(A/N: Wow, I got a review. That's never happened to me on here before. Here's another one.)

Behind the Lines
Part Two: Forgotten Fairytales

It wasn't supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be happy now, happy. Not lying anguished on a step in some district of London. I was supposed to be with him, not alone, not afraid, not in pain.

He was supposed to wake up and love me. He wasn't supposed to wake up and run back home, spouting about enchantments and an insane woman who kept him under her control. I didn't control him. I made him love me.

For such a short time, everything was sugarcoated and deliriously happy. He would tell me sweet things about how good a person I really was and even though I felt a little guilty, I was ecstatic. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before, the poor girl in the crummy house stuck with an abusive father and a crazy brother. I had something wonderful in the palm of my hand.

It was a fairytale. A fairytale. I was living with Prince Charming, who had rescued me, the damsel in distress, from the horrible wizard who kept me locked up and chained in a little house near Little Hangleton. Locked up and chained with a locket and a dress.

I suppose to him, I was the evil witch who kept Prince Charming away from the woman of his dreams.

But why couldn't he see? I was hopelessly and utterly in love with him, and he ran away as soon as I stopped force-feeding him his love for me. He ran away and never glanced back, not even for the son he probably doesn't recall.

I suppose the man in the shop is happy. I sold him a priceless artifact for 10 measly galleons. It was hateful to me, and I've been in desperate poverty for too long. The baby is about to be born, and I have to find a way to help him live some sort of life. I've been forced to spend most of it for food.

I should have held out for more, but I don't have the energy to fight for anything anymore.

My fairytale is lying forgotten on the street corner and I'm lying trapped on a step, clutching 3 lifeless galleons and wondering how I'm going to survive tomorrow.

He was supposed to wake up and love me, not wake up and run back to his home, claiming that he had been under an evil sorceress's enchantments. He was supposed to wake up and love me. My life was supposed to be happy, now I'll be lucky if my life goes on to tomorrow.

It wasn't an enchantment anyway, it was a potion. There's a difference. A potion is more romantic. Being slipped a love potion and having the woman who did it fall madly in love with you so she takes it off and you realize her love for you is so much better than a simple spell for love. A spell is just a word and a little magic. A potion, that has a life of it's own.

Kind of like a fairytale.