I came to him one night. I loved him so much that it was killing me, ripping apart my soul. It got to the point where he was painful to think about. Come to think of it, he still is. He still has that effect on me . . . my bittersweet poison.

I could barely control myself alone with him. I didn't know what to do . . . or when to tell him the truth. The truth. It was something so crazy that I couldn't bring myself to do it. I loved him. It was absurd!

Harry tried to spend a lot of time alone, something I wanted to prevent more than anything. Deep down, I knew that I had to give him his space. He was mourning to such a great extent. I knew that I had to go to him sometime. After all, we were alone in this world. The Order members came and went, but it was just me and Harry in my mind. I was such a foolish girl . . .

I accidentally stumbled across him sitting in a small, empty room upstairs. He was just sitting on the windowsill staring blankly in the sky. I made to leave when I spotted him, as he was sitting in my reading spot.

"Don't go," I heard as I headed out.

"I don't want to bother you, I just . . . "

"'Mione, I don't mind." He beckoned me forward. I clumsily walked to him, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten in each step.

"I come here to think a lot. He showed it to me once, how relaxing the sky can be as the breeze hits you."

"Harry . . . " I said looking into his eyes. But he wouldn't look at me.

"I feel nothing."

"What?"

"I don't feel anymore. I coast through life without feeling its warmth, coldness, cheer, pain, lo . . . " He broke off quickly as he deepened his gaze into the heavens.

"I'm sorry Harry," I said, moving a little closer to him.

"No. Don't. Don't come closer to me," he said, barely over a whisper.

"Why not?" I noticed my mistake in asking that right away. Not only because of how stupid it sounded, but also because of the sadness that immediately washed over him. He began to speak in a voice low, deep, and harsh. The prophecy. He said it word for word to me. I gazed at him in the awkward silence that followed.

"Oh, Harry . . . " I said as I put my arms around him. He needed love. He needed to feel. I didn't think he could ever give that to me, but I felt like I needed to show him how I felt. Harry was stiff at first, but the loosened in my arms. I could feel his sporadic breaths against my neck. I remember the scene all too well. He let tears flow as I held him there. It could have been hours sitting there, I don't know. I do know that it was the pivot point in our long journey together.

I remember him finally withdrawing from my arms. I wiped his eyes and gazed into his emerald depths.

"Why is my life like this?" he said. It wasn't a statement full of angst, sadness, or angry. It was monotonous. It was full of the emptiness he felt. It was enough to bring tears into my eyes. He continued with his weak, unstable talk.

"Why, 'Mione? I do everything I can, and fate acts like I'm a criminal. I hate this damn world. I'm ready to leave it."

"Harry . . . " It was so hard for me to talk. I couldn't tell him everything. I just couldn't.

"No. I'm a weapon, that's all I am. Let the world fall around me."

"Please don't talk like that, this wretched world would be nothing without you."

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm a monster. I kill everything I touch, or love." He spoke these last words slowly, not looking at me the entire time. I didn't see the moment for what it was.

"You know that's not true. Harry, I couldn't take this place without you." He let his gaze fall upon me. I felt it pierce through me. Silent realization began to dawn on both of us. He nervously moved his arm around me, and I leaned onto him.

"Harry, I . . . " He pressed his finger over my lips.

"Words are nothing," he said with a gleam in his eyes, something that hadn't been present in those beautiful oceans for quite some time. We sat there staring into the infinity for what felt like all night.

"Words are nothing," he repeated before letting himself drift to sleep.