~COLD MASKS AND LOST SOULS~
Disclaimer:
All Hail J.K. Rowling, Queen of the Harry Potter Universe!! She owns it all and i am just a mere muggle admiring her work. Not to forget Bloomsburry, Scholastic Books and WarnerBros and all others with copyrights. There. Don't sue me. Please.
Part-I: Remembrance
Chapter-2
"She..."
Finally... he thought. With hurried steps, the students were moving out the classroom buried deep in the dark and gloomy dungeons. His dungeons... He belonged there. No, the feeling of belonging was a missing concept in his life, a feeling like all others that he had banned himself from. A feeling that had eternally escaped him the day he had finally denied the monster he had turned into though he knew and feared that the monster still lurked somewhere in his soul. He didn't belong but surely the dungeons suited him. He felt peaceful there, as peaceful as he can get with the memories that cruelly refused to be forgotten... How could he forget what he once was and what he could have been? He could not, not with the living reminders of both facing him every week in the very dungeons that had captured his soul. But most of all, he could not forget her. How could he?
He had promised not to...
...
Unlike other students, he did not hurry. He had nothing to fear in the dungeons, he had seen worse despite his young age. The boy cast one more glance at his way before walking out the door in that frustratingly assured walk of his, the walk of one never refused. How he hated him. And how he hated the pain the boy's very existence caused in his being with the memories it forced to surface in him. How he hated being have to favor him. The beauty of his eyes was marred with the disdainful, cold and cruel look that exactly resembled his father's. The French perfection of his features was twisted with his ordinary smirk, just like his father. His father... He knew his father well. Too well.
Her... She had blond hair. Not the whitish blond of her son and husband but a colour almost golden; rich and soft. He used to love moving his hand through her long and silky hair, he used to love the way his hand would slide through her golden strands. She had deep blue eyes. Not the light, icy blue of her son's and husband's identical eyes but a deep, velvety blue that used to give him life everytime they were turned his way. She had taught him of joy and beauty. Things that had been missing in his life before her and things that had ended up missing after her. She resembled light in his darkness. Everything that would have been his if he hadn't been so foolish to let her go. No, they wouldn't have let her live if he had let her stay with him. She was better off without him, safer and happier. She was, wasn't she? Not if her husband was like what he knew him to be... So many 'what if's and 'only if's haunted him that he felt the world pushing him down, the walls coming toward him and he sank to the cold floor of his office. His shoulders hunched with the weight of regret and guilt, he saw her eyes. Her eyes staring at him and helpless, he wept tears long forgotten, alone. Helpless...
Author's Note: This is the end of part-I which actually was more of a prologue. I will start posting part-II asap. which may be this week, next week or even the week after as i have several exams and essays due coming up ...
