Goodbye
Again
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter properties belong to J.K. Rowling. No
Infringement intended.
A/N: Sometimes you get caught up with life that you forgot to live life till the opportunity pass before your eyes. H/Hr and H/OC
It's in your mind
It's in your eyes
So it's goodbye again
It's way past time
For one last try
So it's goodbye again
Goodbye... again
( Goodbye Again, Vertical Horizon)
You're stuck.
Somewhere between happiness and the most painful stab you've ever endured in your life, and figuratively you've been stabbed a couple of times.
They expected you to be happy, to play the part of the supporting friend, no matter of what had happened in the past between the two of you, no matter the heavy history you two have shared. You're expected to smile, walk over to his smiling face, and sincerely tell him how happy you are for him. After all, he finally seemed to find happiness.
Elsewhere that is. He had found a reason to smile, a reason for his green eyes to light up again, not in you or his friends, but in her. He's smiling because of her, he's happy because of her; he's mind is alive again because of her.
And you felt another stab.
And as you whispered in his ear "congratulations" somewhere in your chest, a muscle had tightened, and the grateful smile he gave you sent a finger of electricity current to waken your nerves and bathe you with an awareness of how empty you are.
Running an eye over your almost-pack living room, you saw your friends giving him an approving smile over the girl, no the woman, that stood beautifully next to him. But, you knew that every eye was briefly laid upon you to check for a reaction before they focused on something else. So you averted Ron and Ginny's gazes and walked briskly towards the bar, willing yourself to slipped into the role of a good hostess. After all, it is your party.
Grabbing the first drink that was being prepared by Bill at the bar, you walked away from the twin that had hogged the bar to avoid any unnecessary conversation. So much for being a hostess, your feet lead you to the balcony, a place where you hoped you could have a privacy to collect your thoughts. Closing the sliding door quietly behind you, it was a huge attempt in your part to not slide against it and protect your aching abdomen. Instead, you took refuge on a lounge chair; its soft mattress reminds you of your mother's lap.
The bitter concoction of your drink reflects your mood.
Running a hand through your hair, you were again reminded by what you were missing. Hands, fingers, skin, caressing the untamed wild mop, as kisses were exchange or comfortable silence over the heat of the fireplace.
You glanced up when the sliding door opened, renouncing the party that was going on inside. You knew that he would come and try to make it all better. A smile crept up to your face, and he took it as a friendly one when she was actually smiling because of his attempt at analyzing things that are considered "emotional".
"Hey," he said, blue eyes tinted with worries. He was never good at hiding his feelings. That was Harry's job, and analyzing things were her job.
"Hey..."
"Great party you're having."
"You think so?"
"Course, which begged the question of why you're out here when it's warmer and more fun inside?"
You looked at him for a moment, his body leaning against the railing opposite you, eyes questioning, and face awkwardly concern. So much had changed between the three of you as the years passed by. You are amazed that after a decade of friendship outside of Hogwarts, the three of you are still going strong. Like nothing has changed.
Which was why you had to end it. You rationalize it; you put effort into thinking it through. In the end, you felt as if you are in a cliché Boy meets girl, boy saves the girl, girl-helped boy to save himself, boy defeated evil, and then hero gets the girl. You had felt the cheesy expressions, felt the emotions that were only ever described in romance novels, and felt that finally normalcy had come to greet you.
But your heart had desired something else. A freedom of building your own life, creating your own identity, experiencing more than what life had presented to you. You were selfish, eager, and willing to taste everything in life that had been denied to you since your Hogwarts years. You wanted to live life, flick every page of history, and practice your power of youth while you had it.
He had noticed your discomfort, and it ended. As simple and as complicated as that, you had slipped rather comfortably into the role of best friend. Until now.
"Bit of headache. Note to self: don't drink anything that Bill makes."
Your redheaded companion laughed, his concern face ebbed away, and the mischievous face returns. "So Harry and Rachel..." He said casually.
"Harry and Rachel..." Disbelief still clogged your throat.
"I knew that she really liked him. Hell, don't we all love him" He said with a chuckle.
A warm feeling passed over you, not warding off the night's cold air, rather it made your body uncomfortable as you sit there and listened to your best friend ramblings.
"...So he finally got the guts and asks her out. You gotta admit; she's a catch" He winked and finished his drink.
You smiled. Your eyes betraying you and you hoped that he'll notice and asked what was wrong with you again so that you can spill these unnerving feelings that's been bubbling for the past half an hour.
"Anyway, I think they're great together. Don't you agree?" he asked, blue eyes meet your brown ones, and you knew that he couldn't see it, the struggles behind your orbs.
You nodded slightly, covering your quivering lips with a sip of your drink.
Someone called out your name, and Ron hollered back that you two would soon be joining a group of people dancing around your coffee table. Someone had discovered your muggle stereo and had placed in a CD. Reluctantly, you accepted Ron's outreach hand and let him lead you back to civilization.
You were hesitant to dance with Ron, first because you were not very good at it and afraid for his toes, and second, because the music is just not made for dancing in your opinion. But your magical friends had somehow found a rhythm in the song and are moving leisurely. Ron did not give you a chance to think up of an excuse and you were pulled into his arms, awkwardly swaying to a beat that does not exist in your head.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw them. Sitting casually on the couch that he had helped you picked out, eyes locked together, goofy smile shared; a painful understanding descends upon you.
You admit it to yourself, and truly admitted that you were a bitch. You were selfish, eager for power and the taste of excitement to settle with what he had to offer. You were looking for better. The cover of wanting to keep your friendship the way it was disappeared and you felt ashamed. You had thought that in the end it was almost expected for the two of you to end up together, so why don't you experience life before settling with what you were given?
You missed him.
Yet it was not your call, not anymore, of whether or not Rachel is suitable for Harry. After all, you expected yourself to move on, live life, and you had never thought that he might be the one who is moving on and living his life. Your judgment is now tainted with your ego, and you wondered what had happened to you. Were you always like this? Is this the woman that resides underneath the bookworm of Hogwarts? Is this the person that you have become in order to prevent you from loneliness? Funny how lonely is exactly what you're feeling right now when you are surrounded by awards that hang on the halls of your beautiful and exclusive penthouse. The woman inside of you seeks for that innocent bushy-headed Gryffindor, somewhere underneath the expensive suits and important ideas.
With a silent cry of anguish, you thought for a moment that you have lost it, lost who you are. It is ironic how you are the one who changed the most when all along you have been trying to stay true to yourself.
The tears did not fall from your eyes when he ended it, giving you his blessing of freedom even though it placed hurt to linger in his eyes. You had expected yourself to move on, search for that happiness that you have not experience. Holding back the tears that threatened to fall, your heavy hearts tells you that the happiness that you have shared with him was the greatest of them all.
And it surrounds you right now. You're in Dean's arms, Ron had been taken away by his happiness in the form of Luna, Neville carefully holding his wife, Ginny snuggled closely with Malfoy in the corner, the twins with their childhood sweethearts, Bill swaying gently with the beautiful Fleur, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley chatting with each other on another set of sofas.
It burns, the feeling that you've felt in the past of how stupid and careless you think you were when you exchange careless "I love you's" with him. Because a part of you now realizes that perhaps you did love him, love him in the sense of two people finding completion within each other. That loving another human being, as scary as that thought was to you, was achievable at such a young age.
And you're stuck. In between your desire and who you are.
All around you, signs of accomplished happiness flowed with time and life. Yet for you, time danced away as life pass you by.
His life passed you by and he is moving on.
You only hoped you could catch up with time and finally regain your life, the life that filled you with satisfaction and permanent happiness.
END.