A/N: Forget what I said about there being only two chapters. Also, for anybody who is confused about last chapter this chapter should clear it up. Happy reading.
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Remembering
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How long has it been? I'm not sure. I suppose it depends what you're counting from.
4 years since I saw Sophia.
3 years since I started dating Ginny.
2 years since Ron and Hermionie started dating.
1 year since I became a murderer.
I don't care how many people call me a hero, a savior, a bringer of the light, I am still a murderer.
I have a job at the ministry now. I don't hate it. I don't love it. It's just something I do. Something to do until the end of the day. And sometimes at the end of the day I see Ginny. We go out to dinner. I don't hate it. I don't love it. It's just something to do until I go to bed. And then I fall asleep. And I wake up. And it starts over.
I feel like I'm wandering. Drifting in the world. Unconnected to it all. I see a child laughing and I don't even consider that we're of the same species. Because we aren't really. I'm a murderer. That child is not.
People can sugar coat the truth anyway they want. But really, I'm no better than the man I killed. Voldemort.
I go for evening walks a lot, wandering aimlessly. Just to think. Maybe that's my problem. That I think too much. But I don't want to stop thinking, to be some mindless--mindless--murderer.
I stick my freezing hands in my pockets. A breeze blows by, lifting my hair. I shiver slightly. But I don't care. I've been numb inside ever since. Not a speck of emotion. I thought I'd feel something. Anger, relief, happiness, accomplishment. Sadness. But I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I haven't felt anything for a year. I'm just a walking shell of a person.
I don't realize where my feet are taking me until I see the gates. I'm not sure if they're more worn or if it's just my imagination. I don't care enough to look closer. I just proceed onward, ignoring the flowers and the bird's nest.
I walk to her headstone and collapse to my knees in front of it. Suddenly I feel incredibly tired. Not physically. Mentally.
I trace the engraved name with my fingers. What a beautiful name. Sophia Waterman. It rolls off my tongue. Sophia...
My fingers move down to the dates. April 6, 1964-August 31, 1980 I was right. She was 16. Something tells me she was killed by Voldemort. But it doesn't matter. I am still a murderer.
I lean my forehead against the cool stone and start to pray. I'm not sure for what. The words just start to spill out. "Sophia....Sophia. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have died. You didn't deserve to die." I pause for a brief interlude. "Please. Please help me. You said I could always find you when I was lost. I'm lost now. I don't know what to do or where to go. I just--I just--I need help. Please. Help me. Sophia."
I close my eyes and pray silently a bit more. I just need help, I just need help...
When I next open my eyes I'm not sure where I am. The headstone is gone as is the cemetery. I shakily stand up and look around. It's seems, like, just--nothingness. Nothingness that goes forever. A white nothingness.
I turn around and she's there. "Sophia," I whisper, as though unsure it's her.
She just smiles her smile. She's still wearing the same dress, still the same height. Still has the same eyes.
I step forward uncertainly and then run forward to hug her. She hugs me back. We just stay like that for a while. I try not to notice that she's extremely cold. Cold as ice. Cold as death.
We break apart but I continue to hold her hands. It's too good to be true.
"It's been awhile," she says, smiling her sad smile.
I choke out a "Yeah."
She leads me over to two fairly large rocks that weren't there before. I don't ask where they came from. Sophia sits down and I follow suit.
I want to drink her essence and listen to the silence but I know we can't stay there forever. I look into her deep brown eyes and softly say, "I'm a murderer. People can call me a hero all they want but I'm no better than Voldemort." My voice is starting to shake with anger. "I took a life. Somebody died at my hands!"
"Harry,"
"I'M A MURDERER!" I explode. "THERE'S NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ME AND VOLDEMORT! WILL PEOPLE BE CELEBRATING MY DEATH WHEN I DIE? 'OH LOOK THERE GOES THE MURDERER!'"
I collapse back on the rock, shaking. "I'm no better than Voldemort," I say quietly, not sure if I am saying it to myself or her.
"Harry?" I look up. "Do you want to know what makes you different?" I nod and take a steadying breath. "Voldemort murdered out of hatred, hatred for muggles, hatred for his father. You didn't. You killed out of love. Love for your life, love for others, love for your mother."
I nod. It actually kind of makes sense. I still want to know something though. "Did--did Voldemort..."
"Kill me?" she adds softly.
I nod, not looking at her.
I see her nod out of the corner of my eye. "He's sorry though. Dying was the best thing that ever happened to him." She gives a faint smile and I smile back.
"Is he okay? Is everybody he killed okay?" I ask.
She nods and adds, "Of course they wish they hadn't been killed but they've accepted it."
"So--so everything's okay up there?"
She nods and I'm slightly comforted.
"Harry?"
I look back up. "Live your life. Make sure you tell everybody you love that you appreciate them. And keep your eyes open. You'd be surprised how much history repeats itself, even in little things."
I nod.
"Harry, I'll always be here for you."
"Thank you, Sophia. I-I really appreciate you. I even love you." I feel myself blush slightly.
"I love you too, Harry. But as much as you may love me, you love Ginny more."
I nod, and look away. "Are we going to have to part soon?" I ask.
She nods and I lean in to kiss her. I swear her lips are a bit warmer than they were before and her scent of lavender is as strong as ever.
We break and she says "You can always find me when you are feeling lost."
I look into her brown eyes and try to contain my sadness. "Goodbye, Sophia."
"Goodbye, Harry."
"What's going to happen?" I ask.
"You're going to wake up and think it was all a dream."
"And is it?"
She smiles and says "No, no, Harry. This was much more than a dream"
I smile and suddenly feel something wet hit my shoulder. I open my eyes and see her gray headstone in front of me. I feel something clawing its way up my throat and I realize I am crying. I don't care that the rain is soaking me. I don't care that men aren't supposed to cry. I cry and cry. I cry for everything I've ever lost. But at the same time there are tears of joy. I know I will see her again. I know everything will turn out all right. I know Sophia will always be with me. And I know I can feel again.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his world. I do own Sophia and the plot, though.
A/N: Okay, now there aren't going to be any more chapters. Really!