Finally! I have waited so long, and finally, my insanity has returned. Topaz, this fic is for you since you suggested it. What am I talking about, you ask? Well, let's just read and find out. PS: try to guess who's talking here
A Bleeding Heart
(Oh my! A Good Title! That's incredibly rare with me
I walk alone. Each day, I fight to keep my spirit uplifted, to look at things optimistically. Each day, I fail.
The sidewalk is littered with his footsteps. He travels this sidewalk every day. Today is no different. He passes people, never speaks. A nod, a grin, but he never speaks. He is like every other stranger to them. But he is different. Inside, he has a bleeding heart.
Everything is five-sided, no matter how I look at it. And everything regenerates. The ideas that I throw back to the far corners of my mind always grow back. I need something to grab hold of. A rock, a tree limb, anything that will keep me from being washed into that turbulent ocean of waves they call the world.
Lost love, lost fame. Everything is lost in his scrambled mind. The heart aches to learn again, to love again, to smile again, to be rich.
I have fought evil, I have been evil. And still, my dear Hermione is not yet mine. How I loved to see her hand raise in front of my face. She knew all the answers, even though I didn't. How I long for that head of bushy hair. I still see her lovely face, the time she was petrified under the gaze of a monster. I wanted to save my own skin, to leave, to let her go.
He walks, step after horrible step, and he will walk until the end of the sidewalk. Faded memories of that once glistening smile lay on his yellowed teeth. The gray eyes hardly hang on to that small tinge of blue, and the hair is gray.
I see them.
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger are on that sidewalk.
Oh happy day, oh glorious rapture!
Talking, whispering, joking, laughing. They are moving forward.
Let my smile still be there, let the gaze not be so vacant, let the hair have its blond
They point. They stop. He speaks:
"Hello. I am a starfish!"
They look. They laugh. They leave.
And Gilderoy Lockhart continues down the sidewalk, a starfish once in his prime, reduced to an old gray face in the crowd.
I am a starfish. I am a starfish. I am a starfish.
Oh my gosh, that has to be one of my best ones yet. HAHAHAHA!!!! I'm sorry. Do you ever just have to crack up when you're writing? I can't help it. Go Go Gilderoy! Starfish rule! Please review or I shall turn thee into a one-legged sloth with nose hairs the length of Texas. Have a scrumdiddlyumptious day!