AN: Hey everyone! I was feeling in a bit of a dark mood a while ago and this story is the product of that. This story may of course, not be everyone's cup of tea due to the drama and angst of it. This is very different from everything I've ever written so feedback negative or positive would be great. Thanks, Kels
P.S. Can someone tell me how to get the Document manager to accept the Tabs I used to indicate a new paragraph! Thnx
She would never feel the sweet sun upon her skin. She would never know a love larger than Herself. She would never feel the wind rushing through Her hair as she stood on the hills of Winslow. She would never know any of this and for this fact he mourned. He didn't mourn Her for Herself since he had never really known Her. He could only love the idea of Her. He desperately missed the chance for Her to become reality rather than the essence of his hopes and dreams.
He dreamed of a small girl with long black hair and sparkling emerald green eyes. He dreamed of Her first day of school. She would stand in the door way Her long hair done up in pigtails, Her black patent Mary Janes turned inward and Her large eyes wide with apprehension. He dreamed of Her first date. A boy would stand nervously in the living room as he waited for Her to descend down the stairs to greet him. Her smile would be bright enough to light up the sky and illuminate the night. Her parents would smile brightly for her while mourning the fact that She had indeed grown up and was no longer their little girl. She would come home happy, smiling, and giggling. She would see Her father, his hair as dark as Hers, sitting in the living room with glassy eyes brimming with tears. She would hold him and comfort him and declare that She would always be his little girl.
And always he would dream of Her wedding day. The day that She would leave to make Her own life, Her own family, Her own memories. The day She would begin to live Her own dreams. But She would never do this. She would never do any of the things he dreamed of for Her. For these were in the end only dreams. And dreams don't always come true. Especially for him.
As he stood in front of the end of Dreams, his finger traced the sweetest pattern over and over again. He sighed deeply, the pungent odor of fading roses personified Death and endings. With a small groan he rose from his kneeling position and stretched. Turning away from the symbol of Endings, he spotted a flash of light in the form of silver blond hair. Shaking his head he smiled at the figure and beckoned the blond head forward. As the he was held tightly in an embrace he leaned forward to kiss the figure embracing him. With a whispered plea to go home the two figures made their way home. Before they had gotten very far at all the black haired man looked back at the pattern his finger had lovingly traced so many times. Amelia Lilia Potter. With a slight wave, as a promise he would be back, the light and dark hired couple finally made their way home. And of course he would be back, after all She would always be his baby girl.