Enjoy,
Aimée
I come here everyday just to watch the people go by. I entertain myself by making up little stories about them, saying perhaps this tall, brunette woman is cheating on her husband of three years with the cook, or perhaps this man has two children he hasn't seen in over seven months. Not by choice, mind you, but because they're over in the States.
I do this to pass the time, to take my thoughts away from my own life. It's not much of a life, to be honest; at least it's not without you. Perhaps, before everything happened, it was a life worth living, but not now.
Now, I only have one true friend in the world; Ginny Weasley. Now, I have nothing left to give anyone. My heart's been taken for over three years now, my mind's been filled with thoughts of only you, and all of my possessions are trinkets, nothing of value worthy to have.
I didn't believe it when they told me; Harry Potter, dead. What shocked me even more was that it had been Ron who had killed you. I had suspected he had been involved with the Dark Arts, but never to the point where I could have even begun to fathom him being a Death Eater. He's Ron Weasley, for Christ's Sake! I thought he didn't have a bad bone in his body.
In truth, I come here to watch these people and wish for something I can never have. I wanted to start a life with you, Harry. I wanted to be with you always, to bear your children, to lie down next to you as the stars and moon reigned over the sky. I wanted to love you like there was no tomorrow; unfortunately, there wasn't.
I don't blame Ron, I suppose. It is his fault, after all, but I don't believe he was acting of his own free will. The Jury was so close to letting him go… So, so close. The only reason he's serving a life sentence in Azkaban right now is because of who you are… who you were.
Most of the wizarding world demanded the Dementor's Kiss be forced upon him, but Headmaster Dumbledore and I demanded it didn't be done. I couldn't stand to see him walk out of the courtroom like he did, Harry… Like he was worse than the lowliest human being in the world. As if he were worse than Wormtail, even.
I miss you… I can't believe it's been so long since you've been gone. I'm still not willing to believe it, you can't be gone… All those nights you promised me you'd be with me forever, all those times you told me you'd never leave me… You lied, Harry. Why did you lie?
I know, I'm thinking irrationally again. I can't help it, love, I'm sorry. I just miss you so much… Everytime I see a couple pass, I always see our faces instead of theirs. How could it be any other way? I thought nothing could hurt you, Harry. I thought you were invincible.
I was ready to settle down, get married, have as many babies as you wanted. Voldemort took that away from us, Harry. He ripped you from my grasp and killed you. He made me feel like I wanted to die, like there was nothing to live for. There is nothing to live for, now that you're gone. I'm only holding on to life because, one day, I believe they'll realize they made a mistake and set Ron free. He did kill you, Harry, but he couldn't have been acting under his own will. No one would kill his or her best friend, especially when their best friend was you. He loved you as much as I did; two completely different kinds of love, yes, but it's love all the same.
Everytime I close my eyes, I see your face. It's as if your portrait has been painted on the back of my eyelids, so all that I see is you. I feel you all around me, like you're surrounding me even after death. I wish you were, but I'm sure you're not a ghost. How can you be? You were so happy with your life; you had joys, hopes, and dreams… You made me the happiest woman alive, Harry, when you told me you loved me.
I always wonder what things would be like if you hadn't have been killed. Would you still love me? Would you still be fighting against Voldemort? I'm sure you would, but would you have wanted to stay with me instead of going out to battle?
You always walked out that door a hero, and you always walked back in a hero. You were never scared, you never compromised the lives of thousands just to be with me. You were a hero's hero, Harry. But… As selfish as it is… I just wished, maybe one time you would stop as you reached the door and turn around, not to tell me you love me, but to come back to me, gather me up in your arms, and tell me that this time, you would stay.
When you didn't walk back through that door the night you died, I knew what had happened. Even before Dumbledore came to tell me, even before Sirius joined us, his eyes red with crying, I knew. I could feel you die as you fell to the floor; I could feel the life being sucked out of you as you were hit with the curse. I could feel your agony, your regret, and your patriotism… I never felt fear though, and I like to believe you didn't feel any.
We buried you between your mother and your father's grave. Did you know your parents had specifically requested that you would be buried between them, forever a one-year-old baby in their eyes? I'm sure you didn't; the only person that did know was Dumbledore himself.
I only cried once, Harry. I tried to be strong for both of us… For all three of us. Ron needs someone to believe in him, and I try each day to believe he is innocent. It doesn't matter that his wand was the one that cast the spell. It doesn't matter that the mouths of the curse that killed you passed through his lips, not another's. It doesn't matter, because in my heart, I believe he couldn't have meant it.
He pleaded guilty, of course. Always Ron to take the punishment for his actions. How could he have, knowing what lay before him if convicted? A lifetime of agony and pain, remembering you as you fell to the ground, remembering you as you took your last breath, remembering you as you would always be.
Harry Potter, age 20. You would never grow old, you would never have children, and you would never share a bed with any other except me. I think you knew that; though. You died protecting us all from the evils of the Dark Arts. You died protecting me, even, from the ways of the Dark Lord.
To the world, you may have been Harry Potter, but you were only one person. To me, you were Harry Potter, one person, but you were also my world.
My world.
[next part, part three: Draco]
