And now for Harry's.
Broken
Harry stared blankly at the wall across from his bed, quill poised above the notebook that Hermione had given him for his birthday. He'd been using it as a dream journal because, thanks to Voldemort, his dreams had taken a sinister twist as of late. He could no longer be sure of where Voldemort's control ended and his own dreams began and he was writing them down in a hope that he could get a grip on the situation and sort it all out.
Distractedly his quill crossed the page and underneath the description of his most recent dream something else began to take shape.
Nightmares,
Of voices and veils.
Shadows,
Indistinct and pale.
Can't stop cursing me,
For what I did wrong.
The pain won't fade,
It'll never be gone.
Broken promise,
Broken mirror.
Blood-red shards of glass
Fall to pierce my broken heart.
How could I be?
So stupid!
Be too blind to see,
The folly in my ways.
Tried to save them all,
And lost the one I held most dear.
Trying to stop it,
I created what I feared.
Don't save me,
I couldn't save him.
Don't save me,
I don't deserve it.
Don't save me.
Don't,
Don't save me.
Don't…
Save me…
Save me?
Suddenly running out of ink he looked down an noticed what he'd written. Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes and he quickly closed the book. In his haste he never had time to register the last line he had written.
"Save me."