Disclaimer: Most characters, ideas, worlds, and places are copyright J.K.
Rowling. Original plot, characters, and places are mine. If I have
inflicted upon any copyrights, please notify me. Thank you.
Chapter 9: On A One-way Road
When I finally reached Hermione's apartment, the door was locked. I crouched in the old staircase and sulked. My eyes were growing heavy and I was restless; I needed to speak with Hermione before I left. It was too late. I was already falling asleep when I decided to leave. She wasn't home, and I had to face it.
The streets were so lonely, almost silent. I felt like everyone was locked away in their homes, with their children and their families, and their friends. And here I was, walking down the street toward death. The one-way road that led to nothing. I cried freely, unafraid of what people would think, unafraid of what would happen when I ran out of tears from which to cry. I wiped my red eyes and pulled my book bag up to hide my face. I didn't care what happened to me, for all I knew I was walking into a train headed for China. There was nothing left for me to do. There was no more family, no more friends, no more tears to shed, and no more reasons to cry.
Harry had always been brave. He never cried at times of trouble. He never let anyone know he was disappointed in himself. He never gave up. And now I wondered, walking into an endless trap, what he would say if he knew what had happened to my mind. If I had died… I would have wanted Harry to be happy, and to enjoy himself. But what did I know…? I'd probably be hungry for attention anyways.
It's not like I wanted to die. It's not like I wanted him to die. All I needed in the world right then, was to be with Harry, and there was one person who could do that for me… Voldemort. My will was weakening, even though it hadn't been before, and once I reached my old apartment, I felt like I had already died. Yet, I didn't have the joy of returning to him, so I climbed the steep steps towards my room, my feet barely lifting from the ground.
I dropped down onto my bed and lay silent. I could feel the sleep reaching my mind, as it had already gotten my body. My eyes were dry, and my mind was clear, and there… a fell asleep for what I thought would be the last time…
The chamber was dark and empty, exactly how I had imagined it to be. Every dream I had started out, the rogue solider in a battle soon to be lost, with me alone. I was ready, ready for Voldemort to ruthlessly kill me, although he had no reason, no pain, no anger towards me. This time there weren't very man black figures; just a few scattering around the room and reaching their ugly hands out to rip at my skirt. There he was, the tallest one of them all, his shadow looming over my helpless body. I held out my wrists and closed my eyes calmly.
"Kill me now…" I whispered. His eyes opened wide and then a smile took his face over. I heard him laugh, and then stop and speak in his cold, icy voice.
"This is all too easy…" he cried. I opened my eyes and looked right into his, hoping the pain would wash away the emotional hurt. But nothing happened; all I saw were his dark green eyes. It no longer hurt. He slipped his finger under my chin and lifted my head towards his. His grin was huge, a contradiction to my lonesome frown.
"Something's fishy about all this…" he said, throwing my face back. "Why do you want to die?"
"You were right…" I coughed out. The knot in my throat was growing larger. "I have nothing left to live for…"
Voldemort scratched his chin, and with an angry yet satisfied look on his face, he pushed my hair away from my face and chuckled. I glared at him with agony and pushed my body towards him. He whispered something to me, but I didn't quite catch it. Then he motioned to one of the black figures. A body stepped out from the crowd and bowed to Voldemort. He frowned, pulled the death eater up from his bow, and babbled something quickly. The hooded figure dropped his black cover and I gazed at him. His face was pointy, and his features were sharp. He had small eyes that glared right at me. I looked elsewhere, until he took orders from the Dark Lord and headed straight towards me. With the wave of his hand, he pulled me along into a quiet dungeon.
"Good night Sleeping Beauty…" he sneered at me. I dropped to my hands, and crouched down on the cold brick floor, with no tears left.
The busy streets of London on a cloudy morning day was what I woke up too that morning. I briskly pulled on some clothes and headed out the door. No, it wasn't a dream, there were people in it that I recognized, the old man who slept on the bench was still there, the bag lady that walked up and down the street was still pacing herself in the punch of the day.
I don't know what it was that whispered to me, but a force pulled me along to the forlorn scene of the crime. The old house was still as I had remembered it. Tape surrounded the sidewalks and streets. With my skirt bunched in one hand, I climbed over the tape and walked around the dusty grass. It was lifeless, and maybe it had been that way before, but my mind told me something was about to go down very soon.
I climbed back over and observed the house from a distance. I was just about to give up hope, when I decided to walk around the neighborhood once more. I came to an old house, with its classic style, some ice decaying on its flat roof. I walked up to the doorway and gently knocked on the door.
Then, the least possible thing I could imagine happen, was real. The face that opened the door… its sharp features… its pointed chin… its narrow eyes that stared at me with interest….
I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but there was no place to go. I ran down a block, and then realizing he might not have recognized me, I called a cab and went to the nearby park where I could console with myself.
The bench was empty, so I took a seat and stared into the sky, asking God repeatedly why my life has to be so confusing. I pulled my knees up onto the bench and hid my head between them.
Why did a death eater kill another one? In addition, his non-death eater wife? I was so confused, and somehow, I knew that if I just thought for a while, everything would come to me. I knew the answer had to be obvious, but nothing came to mind before my eyes closed and I fell into my dream world once again.
Chapter 9: On A One-way Road
When I finally reached Hermione's apartment, the door was locked. I crouched in the old staircase and sulked. My eyes were growing heavy and I was restless; I needed to speak with Hermione before I left. It was too late. I was already falling asleep when I decided to leave. She wasn't home, and I had to face it.
The streets were so lonely, almost silent. I felt like everyone was locked away in their homes, with their children and their families, and their friends. And here I was, walking down the street toward death. The one-way road that led to nothing. I cried freely, unafraid of what people would think, unafraid of what would happen when I ran out of tears from which to cry. I wiped my red eyes and pulled my book bag up to hide my face. I didn't care what happened to me, for all I knew I was walking into a train headed for China. There was nothing left for me to do. There was no more family, no more friends, no more tears to shed, and no more reasons to cry.
Harry had always been brave. He never cried at times of trouble. He never let anyone know he was disappointed in himself. He never gave up. And now I wondered, walking into an endless trap, what he would say if he knew what had happened to my mind. If I had died… I would have wanted Harry to be happy, and to enjoy himself. But what did I know…? I'd probably be hungry for attention anyways.
It's not like I wanted to die. It's not like I wanted him to die. All I needed in the world right then, was to be with Harry, and there was one person who could do that for me… Voldemort. My will was weakening, even though it hadn't been before, and once I reached my old apartment, I felt like I had already died. Yet, I didn't have the joy of returning to him, so I climbed the steep steps towards my room, my feet barely lifting from the ground.
I dropped down onto my bed and lay silent. I could feel the sleep reaching my mind, as it had already gotten my body. My eyes were dry, and my mind was clear, and there… a fell asleep for what I thought would be the last time…
The chamber was dark and empty, exactly how I had imagined it to be. Every dream I had started out, the rogue solider in a battle soon to be lost, with me alone. I was ready, ready for Voldemort to ruthlessly kill me, although he had no reason, no pain, no anger towards me. This time there weren't very man black figures; just a few scattering around the room and reaching their ugly hands out to rip at my skirt. There he was, the tallest one of them all, his shadow looming over my helpless body. I held out my wrists and closed my eyes calmly.
"Kill me now…" I whispered. His eyes opened wide and then a smile took his face over. I heard him laugh, and then stop and speak in his cold, icy voice.
"This is all too easy…" he cried. I opened my eyes and looked right into his, hoping the pain would wash away the emotional hurt. But nothing happened; all I saw were his dark green eyes. It no longer hurt. He slipped his finger under my chin and lifted my head towards his. His grin was huge, a contradiction to my lonesome frown.
"Something's fishy about all this…" he said, throwing my face back. "Why do you want to die?"
"You were right…" I coughed out. The knot in my throat was growing larger. "I have nothing left to live for…"
Voldemort scratched his chin, and with an angry yet satisfied look on his face, he pushed my hair away from my face and chuckled. I glared at him with agony and pushed my body towards him. He whispered something to me, but I didn't quite catch it. Then he motioned to one of the black figures. A body stepped out from the crowd and bowed to Voldemort. He frowned, pulled the death eater up from his bow, and babbled something quickly. The hooded figure dropped his black cover and I gazed at him. His face was pointy, and his features were sharp. He had small eyes that glared right at me. I looked elsewhere, until he took orders from the Dark Lord and headed straight towards me. With the wave of his hand, he pulled me along into a quiet dungeon.
"Good night Sleeping Beauty…" he sneered at me. I dropped to my hands, and crouched down on the cold brick floor, with no tears left.
The busy streets of London on a cloudy morning day was what I woke up too that morning. I briskly pulled on some clothes and headed out the door. No, it wasn't a dream, there were people in it that I recognized, the old man who slept on the bench was still there, the bag lady that walked up and down the street was still pacing herself in the punch of the day.
I don't know what it was that whispered to me, but a force pulled me along to the forlorn scene of the crime. The old house was still as I had remembered it. Tape surrounded the sidewalks and streets. With my skirt bunched in one hand, I climbed over the tape and walked around the dusty grass. It was lifeless, and maybe it had been that way before, but my mind told me something was about to go down very soon.
I climbed back over and observed the house from a distance. I was just about to give up hope, when I decided to walk around the neighborhood once more. I came to an old house, with its classic style, some ice decaying on its flat roof. I walked up to the doorway and gently knocked on the door.
Then, the least possible thing I could imagine happen, was real. The face that opened the door… its sharp features… its pointed chin… its narrow eyes that stared at me with interest….
I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but there was no place to go. I ran down a block, and then realizing he might not have recognized me, I called a cab and went to the nearby park where I could console with myself.
The bench was empty, so I took a seat and stared into the sky, asking God repeatedly why my life has to be so confusing. I pulled my knees up onto the bench and hid my head between them.
Why did a death eater kill another one? In addition, his non-death eater wife? I was so confused, and somehow, I knew that if I just thought for a while, everything would come to me. I knew the answer had to be obvious, but nothing came to mind before my eyes closed and I fell into my dream world once again.