Don't Let the Sun Fall Down On Me
A/N Story is based on Elton John's song "Don't Let the Sun Fall Down On Me." The lyrics were written by Bernie Taupin. However, THIS IS NOT A SONG FIC!!! I just wanted to give them muse credits. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the books...yadda, yadda, yadda, and I don't own the name of my story either. I guess I missed that boat, huh?
It was the time before sunrise, so the earth's cold shadow still loomed over the hideout of the Order of the Phoenix. The young man watched her from afar as she stared out of a window and into the dark world outside.. Her beautiful face was bathed in shadow, but even at his distance he could see the pain in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her and bring her out of her grief and into the light. It was impossible. At one time he didn't think she would ever have him. Not as an acquaintance, friend or otherwise. Looking back on recent events, he realized that a shadow had passed over everyone. Especially himself. He used to think the world was all greys. But now, he sees the world and all that is in it as either black or white...right or wrong...yin and yang. Everything separate, but working together to 'become'. He didn't know yet what 'become' meant at the moment, but he knew that (whatever it was) it was happening.
In this moment they are at war. Not with each other (as it was in their school days). No, they were at war with Him. Voldemort A.K.A. He, Who Shall Go Promptly To Hell. The man smirked at that last thought. He hated Voldemort with a passion. The Dark Lord was a demon in his eyes. A disease that needed to be cured. But, the He didn't know when that 'cure' was going to grace their doorstep. The young man was tired. Tired of the war, death, grief and pain. Especially the grief and pain. He saw it every day, during every waking moment.
They say that time flies when you're having fun. Well, fun was impossible during these dark times, so time just stands still. Well, it seemed to, anyway. He could see the rapid ageing around him and to any outsider, it would seem that time was moving faster than usual. But this was not the case.
Yes, time was indeed motionless, causing me and everyone else to stop climbing life's ladder. Some stopped in fear, others stopped to observe. The man, however, stopped to think.
He had been young and naive. He had wanted nothing more than to make his father proud of him (for once.) So he joined them. Voldemort and his minions. Stupid Death Eaters. He felt he had the right to think of them as stupid, after all, he used to be one. He had taken the mark at the age of eighteen. A mark that he just wished would go away. Even though he knew it wouldn't. At least not until the Dark Lord was gone for good.
His first mission was simple (by Death Eater standards.) Kill Potter's mudblood.
Flashback...
He was ready to do it. He had cornered her in an area of Hogwarts that was deserted. He had the extra wand his father had given as a gift. He was going to Avada her and then get out unnoticed. His father had told him not to use his wand, because Dumbledore would have had every known wand in the castle checked for recent uses of that curse. He would have gotten off easy.
But he didn't do it. He couldn't. The sight of the terror in her eyes changed him, and he felt his conscience kick in for the first time. It was then that he realized that the world truly was black and white. That moment was like truly seeing her for the first time. He said her name, trying to calm her (not her last name, her first name.) He paused as the sound of her name rolled off of his tongue.
Her eyes widened, and for a moment he thought that she was going to cry. But, instead, she used my moment of confusion to turn and run for a door that was ten feet away. Once it had closed behind her, the young man fell to his knees and he wept. He hadn't cried since he was young, and was surprised that he was doing so now.
She had shown him everything, and as the tears slowly subsided, he sat staring at the door willing the confusion to melt away. For eighteen years he'd been taught that Muggles, Mudbloods and Half bloods were lower than him. Amongst those teachings he had been told that Voldemort was not evil, he just wanted what was best for "true wizards." And now, it was if a blinding light turned on inside of him. He could think of doing nothing less than bringing that slime to his knees.
Standing up he walked to the door that she hid behind he leaned against it. He reveled at the cool rigged surface under his face and he listened to the sobbing that was directly on the other side of the door. He spoke to her, and told her everything. And when he told her not to give up on him, her sobs had stopped and she opened the door to face him.
End Flashback...
He remembered them talking for hours, and he remembered what he had said to her. And ever since then, his words played over and over in his head. Causing him to brood over their meanings. For the longest time he had been someone that his father wanted him to be, and now, It was hard to see anyone else. Yet, every time he got a glimpse of her, he felt free of the person he used to be.
And know he was afraid to tell her how he felt about her. He was afraid of the rejection. He had tasted rejection from his father for eighteen years, and he didn't want to lose hope. If she turned him away, it would snuff out the one bright fantasy he had left.
Stepping up to her, he made a choice. He would let her choose. Gone was his selfish self, so he'd be damned before he just lived for himself and said nothing. She had the right to know, and if it happened that she did reject him, he'd leave it at that. He'd truly set the fragment of her life that was in his fantasies free, even though that one fragment was all that he had in this world.
He clung to hope as he spoke to her, telling her how he felt. He told her of his fantasy of them existing together in happiness. But the silence that followed scared him. He couldn't read her expression as she continued to look him over.
Suddenly, her hands were on his chest, inching their way up to his neck to pull him to her. When their lips met, he brought his arms around her waist to pull her even closer as the sunrise slowly warmed them.
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