Disclaimer: Might as well say it. Harry Potter isn't mine – he's all J.K. Rowling's. The only thing that belongs to me is this -gag-horrible-gag- drabble.
Author's Note: This was a plot bunny I got two days ago, thanks to my friend Nelli, a.k.a. Joogie. You can thank her for asking me to write it! ;P
"He" is Harry; "she" is Hermione. Beware of much nonsensical babbling and overall gagworthy sappiness. In my opinion, anyway. (cough)
The sky was an endless blue . . . and he hated it. It reminded him of how his life really was; it wasn't cheerful and ever optimistic, like the sky. He knew life wasn't like that – at least, it wasn't for him.
Instead, like dark grey clouds, his life was dreary and empty. Meaningless.
And in a way, mocking. As if he weren't unhappy already, he thought bitterly, now the bright, blue sky had to remind him of that.
Hadn't he had enough of this – this never-ending ridiculing of how miserable he was? Didn't he deserve to at least live and be happy, too? Didn't he deserve to be happy?
No, I don't.
Sighing, he closed his eyes. "I don't deserve to be happy . . . I don't deserve anything at all," he said aloud. "And even if I did . . I would lose everything I have – a family, my best friends . . in a second. Everything will be taken away from me."
He sighed again. "I won't let that happen . . I can't let that happen. I won't let him snatch away everything – and everyone – I live for. . . . And care about."
Even if I have to die for it, his mind silently added.
He looked up at the sky again and rubbed his eyes. Instead of the deep blue sky greeting him, there were dark clouds overhead.
He could hear his conscience now – Get inside the castle before you catch cold! It seemed to chide.
Smiling faintly at that, he got up and headed towards the castle, looking up every now and then.
The sky hadn't changed – there were still clouds looming high above him, as if telling him that he wasn't alone – and was the only one strong enough to face the taunting . . . and find life worth living.
He found her there at the entrance, waiting for him. Gratefully shooting her a smile with the slightest hint of ruefulness in it, he took the toast she offered him.
Before they went inside, he chanced a look at the sky, which had steadily darkened. After a minute rain started to fall, drenching and giving everything a vivid luminance, something akin to life.
He shook his head at this analogy and tried to trace the shape of the clouds with his eyes.
Relieved that he couldn't find any, he went inside with her. As they walked to the Great Hall, chatting, he found himself realizing, with a sudden jolt of shock, that his life wasn't meaningless.
It wasn't empty – every moment was filled with laughter, love and . . . He glanced to his left, where she was talking animatedly besides him. Unwavering loyalty.
So why was he feeling sorry for himself when he had been blessed all along? While he hadn't been fortunate before – now he was; the luckiest person in the world.
And although his parents weren't actually there with him – he felt that they had been there by his side all the time. Like she had been . . . and still was . . . and would always be.
At that thought, the clouds in his mind slowly lifted.
A voice interrupted his musings. "Are you coming to eat or not?" She asked bemusedly.
"What? Uh – yeah." He smiled sheepishly and walked with her to their table.
He sat down, and found, much to his amusement, that his two best friends were deeply immersed in a conversation over the merits of Quidditch. Although it seemed to be a one sided one, judging by the enthused look on Ron's face and her polite nodding.
She glanced over at him and smiled, shrugging hopelessly.
He gave her an amused smile, and for the first time in his life, he felt clear.