notes: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I thought maybe I could write something that meant anything. Instead I gave up and wrote this, and hoped that somehow it does.

Just That

You would think that red was his favourite colour, red like Gryffindor and the hair of the woman he loved (he said he loved her) but no, it wasn't, green was. Green like Slytherin and the flash of light that had killed the woman he had loved (he loved her and had loved her and didn't know her).

And you would think that Christmas would be his favourite holiday, with red and green together and it didn't matter which was which because they were both holiday colours (plastic Santas and fake wreaths) but it wasn't, Halloween was. The day his parents were killed and the day he became a hero (people said he was a hero. Draco Malfoy said he was a wanker).

People asked him why, sometimes. They said shouldn't the colour green have traumatized him and didn't he know what significance the day October 31 held for him and honestly was he just that stupid (well they didn't say that bit but Professor Snape said it often enough to make up for the entire wizarding world).

He didn't know. He just liked it.