A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Word Count: 640
I buried her deep
the scent of her perfume
the taste of her lips
buried deep in my mind.
I couldn't allow him to
find out about her.
I couldn't allow anyone to know
the truth, just how far
it went.
Now it no longer matters.
She's gone.
Taken.
Stolen
from me.
Her laugh is as hollow
as her eyes.
The light has gone out
of those bronze orbs.
She looks through me,
never seeing me
never connecting.
What they did to her,
what they took from her,
might never be reclaimed.
Her mind was shattered,
her body ravaged.
Her soul...
I honestly do not know
if it even still exists.
If it does, it is surely
beyond repair.
She sits,
hands folded in her lap
staring out the
window at nothing,
as she has for three years now.
She has not spoken a word
since then,
not recognized me since then.
I doubt she knows herself.
Mirrors frighten her,
she backs away
as though she was little more
than a creature.
Today is the same,
feels the same,
but there's something about her,
something that's...different.
She lifts her head,
her brown curls bouncing
against her skin.
It has become pale
despite my attempts to
take her outside.
She moved slowly,
as if by gears.
A clockwork girl,
the thought so foreign
I nearly laugh.
She pauses, a jerky motion,
but one that causes me pause.
She has never moved in
response to something I have done.
I wait, watching her.
She turns her head, her eyes finding my face.
For a moment, there is a flicker,
a tiny shimmering of light,
I blink and it's gone, as if it had never
existed, but I know it did.
She is turning her head back to
the window again, staring.
I call her name, wondering if
she might finally respond,
might finally remember herself.
She does nothing save stare,
as if I had not spoken.
With a sigh, I force myself
to believe the light I thought
I saw was nothing more than a
reflection of my own madness,
my own hope she would
one day return to me.
I sink into the chair next to hers,
casting my own gaze out the window.
The sky has shifted from blue to pink.
The clouds look like orange flames.
I watch the wind blow them,
their shapes shifting as they move.
Suddenly, something touches my hand,
my finger. I nearly pull away,
but instead look down. Her fingers
are wrapped around mine.
I raise my head to hers.
Her eyes have not left the window,
but her expression is not quite blank,
instead there is a vague expression of
wonder, of what I want to believe is
deep thought, as though she is
pondering something.
Maybe she is coming back,
maybe it was not just my imagination,
my insane hope.
I whisper her name again,
my breath touching her cheek.
She raises her free hand, the one
not curled around mine and
touches her skin. She pulls back her fingers,
bringing them in front her eyes.
I see her blink, her head tilting,
as she casts her eyes upwards,
a smile spreading across her
face.
"Severus," she whispers,
"My Severus."
The words strike my heart like arrows.
My name from her lips, after years of
silence, years of wondering if she
even remembered. She smiles,
her expression blankens as
she turns her attention back to
the sunset, once again
trapped inside her own
self, but now,
now I know there's hope,
it's not misplaced, it's not
impossible.
She does remember and
one day, she will look at me
and I will see her once again,
see the light in her eyes,
and then, then maybe
we can finally have the
happily ever after we
were once so certain
we could find.