Darkness
A/N: Just a new writing style that I'm trying out... Tell me what you think.
Rating: PG
There is darkness in us all... tell me you haven't discovered it in yourself, Harry.
The note sat there, looking as innocent as can be. Harry knew though. He knew it wasn't as innocent, not with the words bleeding over the parchment. Not with meaning written into the ink. As black as a moonless night. No, blacker than even that.
He knew that handwriting. He expected it to bleed red, not black, as he can so often remember it doing over his abysmal potions essays.
It can't be him, though. He died, a year ago to the day. But, there it sits, as plain as the fire roaring in the grate. The ink not even fully dried.
Harry sits down, his head lost in it's spinning thoughts and blindly following a barely glowing trail.
There is darkness in us all... tell me you haven't discovered it in yourself, Harry.
Oh, he knew there was darkness in everyone. He knew it well.
Those black urges filled with pain, blood, and screaming. Those dark thoughts filled with things neither legal nor possible.
This streak he kept hidden, and if it wasn't hidden, then it was ignored.
Oh, yes, he would have done well as a Slytherin, standing next to the Dark Lord. He knew it. He suspected Dumbledore knew it. They all knew it. Everyone but Harry himself.
No, he did know, just chose to ignore that little fact, chose to shove it away into the empty darkness to fester and grow where it belonged.
There is darkness in us all... tell me you haven't discovered it in yourself, Harry.
What happens when the energy powering the light runs out? What happens when it turns it's back on you, leaving you with the ever moving shadows? What happens when it leaves you to the untamed thoughts that run wild like beasts through the forest, hiding in the night, the shadows, the dark? What happens when you give in and stop trying to fight the growing shadows?
There is darkness in us all...
A touch activated portkey lies there, next to the note that has now dried. Empty emerald eyes stare at it in something akin to wonderment and reverence. He just knows it's touch activated.
Did he not die? Did he just finally give in? Finally find a place where he belonged? Did he wait til this day, this moment, to open the door yet again, for Harry? To reunite him with a lover, a husband feared lost to him forever?
tell me you haven't discovered it in yourself, Harry.
"I can't. I can't tell you that."
And it hung there, almost palpable to the mind and skin alike. And hung, unspoken, were the words that would have followed, had he been there to say them.
'Then join me here.'
He sat there and let his mind follow the trail to the foreseeable end. He watched as it came upon two endings. One he wanted, the other they expected.
Black or white? Light or dark?
Without a backwards glance, he stood and reached for the portkey.
A/N: Well? How was it?