Note: Keeping to the same format is becoming very difficult! Good thing there is only one chapter left after this, then! It's not turned out perfectly but I hope somebody likes it anyway!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Invisible Part 7
I am the person you almost missed. You can spot me in a crowd from a mile off, that's me, the one that made you run for the hills, the one so bright the hills didn't shield you. You've been back for just a little while and I love it. The best part is that I've stopped attention seeking, I'm just being me again. It's true. And you spot me all the same.
It will be true for eternity. And you will never miss me, nor our little bundle of joy.
And it's ironic, don't you think, that the mere phrase run for the hills brought such panic a mere week ago, when now it makes me smile because you say you'd shout your joy from atop them?
You'd spend forever with me just sat upon my mother's sofa, our son in your lap, if you had half a chance. Sometimes I think you don't realise anything else even exists.
I hear accounts of Order meetings from you second hand now, I have done so for weeks. I watch you shuffle through the front door and we sit up late together before the fire in the living room, clutching our hands together as we talk of the War, of the Order, of Harry, and just how black the days have grown. Your grip my hands too tightly, sometimes they hurt, but the dull pain is oddly reassuring and I grip you twice as hard back. But then I talk of Teddy, what a bright smile he offered me at lunchtime that day, and though our grips remain desperate and fearful we both smile ourselves as if we had not a care in the world. We talk of our little family and of love, and when I fall sleep with my head upon your shoulder, your lips pressing a soft kiss to my temple, the last thing I see are the flames in the grate and I think to myself that it will take more than the gathering darkness to snuff our fire out.
A few times I've caught myself thinking foolishly that we might not be quite as impenetrable as we first seem; when you come home later than you promise and I feel such unbearable dread at the thought that you could be lost to us, when you finally arrive back having torn my nerves to shreds and I cannot help but cling to you for a moment when you leave again a few hours later, when I hear Teddy crying having awoken from a nap and I shudder to think that one day we might never be here to soothe him.
But then I remember those glorious moments when we lose ourselves in our own little world, just the three of us, and I remind myself that we've already won. Nothing can take those moments away from us, they can strike us both dead if they truly wish. There will always be people who care for our son, and they'd let him know we loved him greater still. We might die for him, we'd do it in a heartbeat and we'd be glad of it too. And if that isn't a life well lived, I don't know what is. The best thing about remembering this is that it makes me love you even more.
I don't just love you, not really. I love you eternally. I love the way you sit beside Teddy's cradle and read him bedtime stories, even though he is much too young to understand them. I love the way I catch you smiling at me and when I offer you a questioning look you simply shrug and smile even more. I love how close you hold me at night, not moving a muscle when I fall asleep so as not to disturb me. I love the way that I awake a while later to find you still awake, gazing through the darkness towards our baby's cradle, the same small smile forever on your lips. I love the way you tell me that you love me, that you love our son. I love that he is ours now, and not mine alone.
I love the way you say my name. Or rather that you don't. Don't worry, Teddy, Mummy's getting out of bed this time. Where did Mummy put your blanket? Stay asleep won't you little one, so Mummy and I can have a cuddle. Look after Mummy for me, whilst I'm gone. I love the way I think myself silly for thinking it so wonderful, because in truth it isn't very silly. In truth it means I love you, and each day I love you a hundred times more.
It's silly that I once thought you would never come back to us.
I should have known better than that. Because if your honour hadn't brought you racing back, your love for us always would.
And we'll never be parted ever again, not truly, for such great and true love is not something that Voldemort can comprehend. There is no way to destroy it, to destroy us, so let him come. Let all of them just try. Because they can never break us, never make us disappear. We shall never be invisible ever again.