Stars
The ceiling was dotted with stars every night. At first she had gasped and stared, amazed, at the never-ending carpet of silver and blue that surrounded them. Most of them had, that first time. She was the only one who continued to gaze at them, night after night, week after week, for the entirety of her first year at the school.
When she came back the second year and found that the Boy Who Lived was now there every night, sitting at the table opposite theirs, she found something new to stare at. Something that might be more powerful than stars. Something that meant more to her.
But she still glanced up, now and then, and on the occasions when she forgot to look at the dark-haired boy with the piercing green eyes she glimpsed the stars instead. It was enough for her, then.
Then.
She left the school for three long summer months, and found herself missing it more and more. Maybe she was missing the school. Maybe she was missing the stars. Maybe she was missing him. She was only twelve.
She didn't know.
She found herself going outside to the garden for hours at a time to look at the stars.
Inside, her parents whispered and wondered what was happening to their daughter. So different from what she had been two years ago.
Sometimes as she gazed at the glittering orbs, one would catch her eye and a shining tear would form and she would brush it away, because there was no reason for her to cry.
Yet.
She returned to the school and almost immediately began to fear for her life. Some creature was roaming about the school. Something was petrifying students. Something could destroy forever her and her mind full of stars.
So she hid almost incessantly in her dormitory and only came out for classes and an occasional quick mouthful of food. She became thin and pale and almost never let anyone talk to her. She veiled herself with the curtains of her canopy bed and grieved for the stars and for the boy.
She wondered if in some other deserted dormitory, someone was grieving for her.
One night she couldn't stand it any longer and wandered out, alone, to the great hall. It was probably the most dangerous thing she could possibly do, she knew. But it had grown to be an obsession.
She sat all night atop a table, staring at the stars with her luminous eyes. Wishing that she would live.
She was glad to leave the school that year. She wondered less about the boy, and sat more in her bedroom reading or listening to music. She looked less at the stars and more at magazines.
Her parents had to bribe her to go back to school. She didn't want to. She thought there was no reason to.
That year, there wasn't. Nothing happened. Everyone was just - there. They were just students, and it was just a school. It was all blank to her.
She left and swore she would never come back. All the way home that June she sat, silent and alone, in a compartment by herself. She locked the door with a spell and realized she hadn't once thought of stars that year. And she didn't care.
Then she heard that her school was going to have a tournament that year. She wasn't supposed to know. Her parents let it slip. They hoped it might encourage her to return.
It did.
She got onto the train with enthusiasm she hadn't had since her first year. Who knew what would happen that year?
Whoever did was probably crying. But she didn't know that until later.
Much later.
They held a ball at Christmastime. She went with a boy in seventh year. She wished she had said no to him, only because the Boy Who Lived asked her too late.
She lived in hell for that whole week. She had to pretend she didn't care, and that she cared about Diggory.
And then, at the Yule Ball, she glanced up at the star-covered ceiling. It was like a stranger to her now. She danced with Cedric and she focused on a star that wasn't on the ceiling and he kissed her.
She cared now. They went for walks in the garden and he put his arm around her shoulders and they looked at the stars together. The best way to look at stars. With someone.
She cared more now than she had ever cared about anything before in her life. She cared with all her heart and mind.
One night he told her he cared, too.
The stars were more brilliant now than ever.
For a short time. Until he died.
He died in the last task. Killed by Voldemort.
She watched her love die, and with it the stars. Her heart and her mind whirled out of control.
Because he had died.
And the Boy Who Lived had lived again.
Even the stars were gone.
Her life was almost no more.
She left when the pain numbed. And she came back in a trance. The pain was hidden now.
It all came back in a flood of tears. In the Room of Requirement.
In Harry Potter's arms.
It wouldn't leave her to live her life sanely.
He tried to make her feel better. He kissed her a few times.
It wasn't because of the tears. She knew it was because he loved her.
But she didn't know if she loved him any more.
And she couldn't stop thinking about Cedric.
So they went out a few times. Then she broke it off. It wasn't working.
There was too much pain.
She could see the stars again. They still glimmered in the sky like beacons of light. Showing the way to happiness.
They had not led her to happiness.
They were not the same stars they had been.
She was aloof from them now. They were not mere strangers. They were an enemy.
She fought them with all her strength. As Harry Potter fought his own battle with Voldemort.
Her life was now her own.
She had managed to forget.
But part of her was gone now.
The ceiling was dotted with stars every night. At first she had gasped and stared, amazed, at the never-ending carpet of silver and blue that surrounded them. Most of them had, that first time. She was the only one who continued to gaze at them, night after night, week after week, for the entirety of her first year at the school.
When she came back the second year and found that the Boy Who Lived was now there every night, sitting at the table opposite theirs, she found something new to stare at. Something that might be more powerful than stars. Something that meant more to her.
But she still glanced up, now and then, and on the occasions when she forgot to look at the dark-haired boy with the piercing green eyes she glimpsed the stars instead. It was enough for her, then.
Then.
She left the school for three long summer months, and found herself missing it more and more. Maybe she was missing the school. Maybe she was missing the stars. Maybe she was missing him. She was only twelve.
She didn't know.
She found herself going outside to the garden for hours at a time to look at the stars.
Inside, her parents whispered and wondered what was happening to their daughter. So different from what she had been two years ago.
Sometimes as she gazed at the glittering orbs, one would catch her eye and a shining tear would form and she would brush it away, because there was no reason for her to cry.
Yet.
She returned to the school and almost immediately began to fear for her life. Some creature was roaming about the school. Something was petrifying students. Something could destroy forever her and her mind full of stars.
So she hid almost incessantly in her dormitory and only came out for classes and an occasional quick mouthful of food. She became thin and pale and almost never let anyone talk to her. She veiled herself with the curtains of her canopy bed and grieved for the stars and for the boy.
She wondered if in some other deserted dormitory, someone was grieving for her.
One night she couldn't stand it any longer and wandered out, alone, to the great hall. It was probably the most dangerous thing she could possibly do, she knew. But it had grown to be an obsession.
She sat all night atop a table, staring at the stars with her luminous eyes. Wishing that she would live.
She was glad to leave the school that year. She wondered less about the boy, and sat more in her bedroom reading or listening to music. She looked less at the stars and more at magazines.
Her parents had to bribe her to go back to school. She didn't want to. She thought there was no reason to.
That year, there wasn't. Nothing happened. Everyone was just - there. They were just students, and it was just a school. It was all blank to her.
She left and swore she would never come back. All the way home that June she sat, silent and alone, in a compartment by herself. She locked the door with a spell and realized she hadn't once thought of stars that year. And she didn't care.
Then she heard that her school was going to have a tournament that year. She wasn't supposed to know. Her parents let it slip. They hoped it might encourage her to return.
It did.
She got onto the train with enthusiasm she hadn't had since her first year. Who knew what would happen that year?
Whoever did was probably crying. But she didn't know that until later.
Much later.
They held a ball at Christmastime. She went with a boy in seventh year. She wished she had said no to him, only because the Boy Who Lived asked her too late.
She lived in hell for that whole week. She had to pretend she didn't care, and that she cared about Diggory.
And then, at the Yule Ball, she glanced up at the star-covered ceiling. It was like a stranger to her now. She danced with Cedric and she focused on a star that wasn't on the ceiling and he kissed her.
She cared now. They went for walks in the garden and he put his arm around her shoulders and they looked at the stars together. The best way to look at stars. With someone.
She cared more now than she had ever cared about anything before in her life. She cared with all her heart and mind.
One night he told her he cared, too.
The stars were more brilliant now than ever.
For a short time. Until he died.
He died in the last task. Killed by Voldemort.
She watched her love die, and with it the stars. Her heart and her mind whirled out of control.
Because he had died.
And the Boy Who Lived had lived again.
Even the stars were gone.
Her life was almost no more.
She left when the pain numbed. And she came back in a trance. The pain was hidden now.
It all came back in a flood of tears. In the Room of Requirement.
In Harry Potter's arms.
It wouldn't leave her to live her life sanely.
He tried to make her feel better. He kissed her a few times.
It wasn't because of the tears. She knew it was because he loved her.
But she didn't know if she loved him any more.
And she couldn't stop thinking about Cedric.
So they went out a few times. Then she broke it off. It wasn't working.
There was too much pain.
She could see the stars again. They still glimmered in the sky like beacons of light. Showing the way to happiness.
They had not led her to happiness.
They were not the same stars they had been.
She was aloof from them now. They were not mere strangers. They were an enemy.
She fought them with all her strength. As Harry Potter fought his own battle with Voldemort.
Her life was now her own.
She had managed to forget.
But part of her was gone now.