I wonder

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns the Harry Potter world, i am just playing with her idea!

A/N: Hey guys review if you can be stuffed otherwise reading would be good hehe.

One shot

I suppose after a loss that great you would feel some pain. But it is in human nature to try to ignore the pain, block it all out, shut down and stop feeling. If you don't feel you can't get hurt. Amazing isn't it? Amazing how selfish humans become. They push everyone away because they can't handle the pain. I always despised this quality; I would never block out anyone, never hurt anyone just to save myself some pain.

I did.

Human nature again. I couldn't handle the pain so I ran away. I forgot everything that made me remember their smiles, their personalities their hopes and dreams. I tried to forget them. Running should have cured my pain. It didn't. It only made me tired, weak; it let my defenses down so I thought of them more.

I couldn't hide from them in my dreams; I saw their hollow eyes staring out empty, oblivious to the world. I saw their thick blood wash and stain the ground beneath them. I heard their mournful cries before the night became ungodly quiet. I almost smelt the silence it was that strong. I remember the coldness of their touch when I tried to wake them, when I touched their faces, their lips. In my dreams I awake a deep sorrow inside of myself that no amount of running can hide me from.

I tried to stop dreaming. I tried to stop sleeping.

I tried to stop living, for what is my life without them? Blank, empty, useless. An endless stretch of fake "I'm fine" lines and sympathetic stares from people I did not know. I didn't need their sympathy, I didn't need their pity. Would their useless emotions bring them back? If it did I would have tried along time ago.

Sometimes I get sick of the running. The constant fear of getting caught up in emotions. The endless betrayal of the memory, the swift noise of shallow breaths. Maybe I should give up on everything. Sometimes I do want to give up and fall on my wand, but then I see the good times back at Hogwarts. I see their determined faces and I know I couldn't kill myself. I never had that weakness in me. In some ways they kept me alive all these years even when they took half of me away when they died.

I could never be whole again.

But after all this pain, after all the running and the tears, I still see his eyes burning into mine before he died. I saw the pain embedded deep in those blue chambers, pain he never showed me until then. I also saw fear. You see in movies when the hero is about to die saving someone he is all heroic and brave. But he, he was not. I saw fear and unwillingness, pain and uncertainty as he stared into my eyes knowing that he was going to die. Then I saw nothing.

I still remember the coldness of the floor as I crashed hard against it breaking my wrist. The pain searing down my arm as a pain burned in my heart. By the time I looked at where his body once stood he was already dead. Bodies were everywhere as I slowly crawled towards him staring down at faces I didn't know, some wore death eater masks and I elbowed them extra hard sobbing as his red hair glowed in the sea of black robes.

I never reached him.

Men stepped on my outstretched fingers as I tried to grab him. I cried out in pain as I heard the distinctive crack of bones breaking. They pulled me by the hair towards the middle of the field; I remember so clearly the look of triumph in all of their eyes. Their faces I could not see hidden beneath dirtied white masks.

I saw the blood dripping from his body as he stood upright his wand shaking in his right hand. My voice croaked as I called out his name. He only turned for an instant to glance my way, his eyes wide in shock, and that's the way he fell, eyes open towards me. I screamed and strained against the two men that held me; I bit into the arms of my captors and fled towards his body.

Harry Potter had fallen to the Dark Lord and it was entirely my fault.

The fate of the wizarding world that had rested on this mans shoulders for 17 years, his birthday was next week, crumbled. All hope was lost; finally the world had been plunged into darkness along with me as a rock collided with my head.

I don't know how many days I was unconscious, but I knew I did not want to be awake for what they did to me. I woke parched and filthy, my robes torn and my underwear missing. My fingers throbbed and my wrist was swollen double its normal size. My arms had been deeply carved into, some cuts running to the bone. All bearing the same words, Mudblood. They would scar and stain my arms forever.

I don't know how I escaped the dungeon they kept me in, I didn't know whether it was day or night, summer or winter, I didn't know if it was raining or cloudy. I ran as far as I could as fast as I could, forgetting my wand. My legs were wobbly and I wasn't sure how I managed to make my way all the way back to the muggle world. Finally I could escape the mayhem of witchery.

But the end had just begun.

As I walked into my neighborhood smoke drifted from burned houses, ashes blew away in the wind. Fires burned lightly in the remains of what was once my home. I kneeled at what would have been my front door and screamed. I cried and yelled and punched the ground with my fists, I still have the scars. After all I had been through I couldn't outrun what was haunting me.

I couldn't outrun my best friends, or the monsterousdeath eaters.

They found me crying in a ball at my house and the Dark Lord personally tortured me with the Crucio spell. I endured years of that pain, the slave labor, the new way, the dawn of the Darkness. The era of Lord Voldemort.

But honesty it wasn't all the slave labor and the rise of The Dark Lord that hurt the most. It wasn't how I was responsible for it all, for Harry's death. I was so torn up inside because of the look Ron gave me when he saved my life. It was then I knew I truly loved him and I couldn't believe how selfish he was being at giving himself up like that. He let himself die yes to save me, but did he really? He left me here alone.

What hurt the most was not knowing what could have been. I didn't know if Ron loved me. I will never know. I just have a lifetime to wonder, a lifetime to think of how smooth his lips would have been, how sweet he would have tasted. A lifetime to yearn for him, to cry at night and crumble on the inside. To feel my heart break everyday and try to piece it together every night.

I don't want a lifetime to think of him.

That is how I find myself standing on the side of the Hogwarts lake the first time I realized I had a crush on Ron. Death Eaters surround me and I can't help but smile. I have run from my pain for to long. I won't let them kill me, I have to much pride for that. Its time for that old Gryffindor courage many have since lost.

Finally I will be able to see Harry again, finally I will be able to see Ron's smiling face, finally I can stop wondering. I close my eyes and bring a stolen wand to my head.

"Avada Kedavra"

A/N Just saying hello again...hehe. Didnt think i would just forget did ya? Review if you can or go read another story (thats what im probably doing right now) muah muah! Kisses to all.