She
A Harry Potter story by Adelaide
He stands and looks at her, because he knows she is his everything.
She knows what he feels, and when he's gone to far. She knows that sometimes he needs a reality check, and she won't hesitate to give him one. She knows he'll listen, and she's not afraid to say her mind.
She knows when he wants to be alone, and when he needs to be held, almost like a child. She isn't surprised; the Dursley's deprived him of having comfort, and now that he has it from her, she won't take it away.
She knows when to laugh, and when to stay quiet because he's serious. She knows his every part, his innermost self, sometimes better than he does. She won't leave him because they are one in two; one cannot live without the other.
He knows that he wouldn't be worth a sickle without her, and that she is his rationale. She is the reason that he had to end the godforsaken war, and she is the reason he couldn't give up.
She is the reason. The reason for all his mistakes and all his triumphs, and the reason why he hasn't gone insane yet. She is his muse, his basis for being who he wants to be.
He stands and looks at her, because he knows how damn lucky he is.
She lived past the Dark Time, and so did he. So many died, yet they were chosen to live. They were picked to survive. He is grateful to his lucky stars that she is his, and that he is hers.
He stands and looks at her, because she isn't beautiful.
She has red hair and freckles. He thought he liked blue-eyed blondes. She is short and pixie-like. He thought he liked tall, willowy girls. Her hair is only shoulder length, and all his old flames had longer hair. She isn't a Cinderella, or a Morning Glory. In fact, she is the most cantankerous and irritable in the morning.
He stares at her because she is more than beautiful; we just don't have a name for it yet.
SE ACABA
