Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and co, the wonderful J.K Rowling does. Cheers for her!
Author Notes: I'm sorry to say that this one isn't beta read, but if anyone feels like helping me out with that then send me an e-mail.
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Smile For Me
A single beam of light can heal a person from a million years of darkness.
You stare in to the mirror and can't help but to wonder who it is that is looking back at you. His hair hangs in long greasy threads that cover his face, but you can still see the all too dark circles under his eyes, and he let his shoulders slump, as if he have been carrying a too heavy burden for far too long. His black school robes are wrinkled and his tie is hanging loosly around his neck. A few buttons are up and you can glimpse a bit of his pale skin that seem to be stretched right over his skelett.
You trail one of your own fingers over the reflection of his face and is almost surprised when you see that it is as pale and bony as his. Looking up through your bangs you stare in to his eyes and your breath catches in your throat as you see the dull colour resting in them. They used to be such a sparkling green, emerald most people said, but now they have lost all their shine. Shaking your head slowly you once again turn your face down towards the sink, trying not to think about how those eyes could change so much over such a short time.
Cold water is running through the tap and you let it wash over your hands, ignoring the chilling pain, until your hands are all numb. You lift them up at long last and cover your face, enjoying the coldness against your eyes. They have been burning on the inside, why you don't know, but the coldness soothes them.
After a while the coldness disappear and you let your hands drop down by your sides. You look up at the boy in the mirror again and see the boy staring back at you with a sadness so deep in his eyes that you quickly turn away again. You feel sorry for him, but you know how much you hate pity yourself and you don't want him to see that in your eyes.
Walking up to one of the windows you jump up and sit on the windowsill. There's mist on the window, like a wall between the warmth inside the bathroom and the dark winter night on the outside. You want to see the stars so you wipe your robearm against it to get the mist away, not caring if your robe gets damp or dirty. When the mist is cleaned away you look out at the sky and your heart falls. It's a cloudy night and not a single star is shining through. You turn your eyes down on the grounds instead and watch how the beautiful snow covers everything. It had been snowing for days and only just stopped a few hours ago. You can remember a time when you loved to be out and play in the snow, but now it feels like an eternity ago. You don't enjoy much anymore and you pretend that you don't notice the way everyone looks at you with worried eyes.
Smoke is coming out the chimney at Hagrid's hut and you wonder what he is doing right now. Maybe he is boiling some tea and playing around with Fang, or maybe he simply keeps the fire going to keep the hut warm while he sleeps. You realise that which ever way it doesn't really matter and you wonder why you even wondered in the first place.
You let your fingers trail along the window and when you feel how cold it is you slowly let your head fall and rest your fore-head against it. Again the coldness sooth you and you wonder if you could stay here forever. Would anyone notice that you were gone? Would they come and look for you? Somewhere deep inside of you, you know that they will but you try to force those thoughts away and pretend that it wouldn't matter if you disappeared. You could just stay here by this window and the coldness would forever calm you, forever keep you safe. You know it is a dream, a ridicules dream, but you still try and believe in it. You wish life could be that simple and you hate to admit it isn't so.
You open your eyes and wonder when exactly you had closed them. Lifting your head up again you caught a light in the corner of your eye and turn to look out the window at the sky again. There is a small hole in the clouds and one single star is shining through it. The corners of your mouth twitch a little before they smooth out to a straight light again. You could recognise that star anywhere, even if it stood next to a million others, which you realise it does. The dog star. Sirius.
How many times have you not looked at it during the last couple of months? How many times have you not wished that you were a star right up there beside him? How many times have you not wished he was a man down here right beside you?
You turn your eyes away and stand up, not wanting to look at it any longer. Silently you wonder when the star went from 'it' to 'he' and then back again. You sigh as the thought runs through your head and you almost choke when you hear the sigh coming out as a sob. There isn't any reason for you to sob, you try and tell youself. He is gone and there is nothing you can do about. What good will it do to sit here and sob and cry? What would that possible achive? He wouldn't want you to sit and cry over him.
Your legs give out under you and you let yourself slide down the wall and sit with your back against it at the floor. The tears are rolling down your cheeks now as you berate yourself for letting your thoughts focus on him for so long. Nothing good will come from it, you tell yourself again, but still the tears keep falling. You feel like you are drowing but you don't even knough what it is you are drowing in. Your eyes burn as the tears fall faster and faster and you wish you were still sitting by the window so you could lean against the cold glas. Remembering your thought from earlier you almost chuckle. Your forever didn't last very long.
Something is clenching your heart, squeazing it, and you wish that the tears would simply stop. But they don't and so you become angry. Angry that you're letting the tears fall, angry because it hurts in you heart, angry because you left the window, angry that forever didn't last long enough and, most of all, angry because he left you. You almost scream straight out at the last thought. Why does everything have to come back to him? Why can't you simply move on?
You hear the door open and wonder if you remembered to lock it when you came in here. You can't remember but you still try and search deeper for the answer, if only too keep your thoughts away from him. The person by the door is slowly making his way towards the sink, you can hear him, but you still don't look up but keep searching your mind. The water stops runing and you realise with a start that it have been running the whole time. Why didn't you hear it before? You could have sworn it was qiuet in here.
The other person is walking towards you now and you look up at him. You recognise the red hair and the freckled face but it takes you a second to match it with a name. Ron. You wonder why you didn't know it was him from the beginning but you decide it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters anymore.
Suddenly you see the damp towel in his hand and something flash in your memory, you feel like you have seen this all before. Been through all this before. Ron sits down beside you and you stare at him in confusion, but he just give you a weak smile, one that doesn't really reach his eyes, and then he lifts the towel and wash away your tears before letting the towel rest over your eyes. As the cold towel soothes the burning in your eyes you realise that he saw you cry, and you wonder what he will say. But the room is quiet and you let yourself relax, and once again the feeling comes back. This is all too familiar.
You don't know how much time that passes but you hear his voice as the takes the now warm towel away.
"Come on, Harry. Lets get you back to bed."
He offers you another weak smile as you open your eyes and then he helps you to stand up. He keeps one arm around your waist to support you as he leads you out the room, and you realise you don't mind that he sees you in this weak state. This is your best friend and you feel like you can trust him with your life.
And the feeling of familiarity comes back and you realise that this has happened before. You realise that this isn't the first night Ron comes here to get you, it isn't the first night you spend in here crying over your loss. You suddenly know that this has happened for so many nights that you don't know if you could count them, and you don't know if it is an inprovment or not that you can remember that.
But a warm feeling spreads through you heart and a smile almost reaches your lips. Even though you might not remember it in the morning, or by tomorrow night, you feel safe. It doesn't matter if you don't remember because either way Ron will be there. He will come and get you when you sit here crying and he won't judge you. He will be here every night, wether you remember it or not, and offer his silent support and friendship.
And even though the smile doesn't reach you lips Ron can still see the small spark of life that turns on in your eyes, and he will know that things aren't hopeless, that some day you might even smile back at him again.
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