She Wept
Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.
(…): Random thoughts or ideas
Italics: Thoughts and emphasis
Bold: Emphasis
She wept…
And looked at them through the tears. Watched as they played their cruel games, her eyes gleaming with pity for their victim, sorrow that they could treat another person like this, hate for them … and loathing for herself because she could do nothing.
She cried as she watched the innocence, the hope … wither and die within his eyes, leaving nothing but despair and dark understanding.
She watched them mock him, harass him, torment him. Yet, through it all he never retaliated. He just looked at them with those eyes (those sparkling eyes) and with understanding.
He knew why they did it. It was not because they hated him, but because they hated themselves. They hated the inadequacy within themselves. Yet, they did not try to fix it, they did not strive to be better; they took it out on the one worthwhile person around.
…And worthwhile he was (and still is) and so very wonderful. When he smiled the whole world was made right. Those eyes (her eyes) would gleaming and sparkle, catching even the slightest bit of light…
But they didn't notice any of it! She just wanted to scream. Look! Just look at him, you bastards, look at how wonderful and good he is! See him! Not that image you built in your heads!
But they never did. They looked (and glanced and stared at) but they never saw.
One moment he was their hero, their savior. Next, he was their whipping boy.
And then they would tease him and hurt him. Yet, even after all of it, he saved them all.
And the others, the ones that stood by (never for him), and never protected him nor helped him. Sometimes they would pretend, just for show, to make themselves feel better. But he knew … he knew it was all a lie. Yet, he would never call them on it.
They were supposed to be his friends. They were supposed to be her friends.
Yes, there were some. Some that were real. Some that helped him, protected him, loved him. But they were few and far between.
They were true. The star dog. The crystal eyed angel. The paranoid Auror. The bubbly professor. The psychotic Hat. The enchanted castle. Hell, even the prophetess of doom and gloom. They were all true.
The others were not.
The others, she would sometimes think. Yes, the others. That creature that pretended to be a man (the wolf in sheep's clothing). The hoard of red-headed demons. But most of all that twinkling eye, bloody hypocrite… Oh, there aren't even foul enough words to describe these back-stabbing, lying, thieving, murderous bunch of traitorous, treacherous brutes.
(She wept at the realization that these people, the people she had loved, were absolutely worthless and horrible. She cried when she realized that their eternal resting place would most definitely not be where she was… they were damned, so they tried to damn her baby.)
She stormed and stomped, while cursing these people. These people that she had trust with him, her darling, her baby, her little angel … with HER SON!
He should have let them die! Just as they would have (tried to do) to him.
But he was better than that, he was far better than them. She knew that. She had watched him grow into the fine man he is today. She had watched as he struggled, as he strained, as he finally triumphed … the light and hope returning to his eyes.
And all the while … as she watched, as she screamed and pleaded to deaf ears for them to help her baby, as she whispered and tried to comfort him …
She wept.
ReginaLucifer and meowcat00: Thanks! I love the Sorting Hat. It is such an underutilized character.
Ever Hopeful,
Azar