The Places We Have Come to Fear the Most

Forbidden.

I wait for you just inside the forest. The wind is cold and it snaps my scarf against my face as cyclones of red and gold leaves swirl about me. Only a few more weeks before the world becomes white and pure, too pure for us, and the end of secret meetings. A promise meant to keep, but destined to be broken, as if we could stop this well of desire growing between us. A nice thought, but you waste yourself on good intentions, you who like your lines drawn clean. Love and hate, good and evil, black and white--there is only one answer.

I live in shades of grey.

We both know what is expected of us, and we both expect to follow it through. This mark I have is nothing to be taken lightly--neither is yours. Our sides were chosen before birth, and no amount of love or desire or longing will change that. Destiny is destiny, and who would play the fool? Would you look your father in the face and tell him that you are laying down your arms? Neither can I. Do not expect to save me from my fate--I won't let you. This is necessary, needed, required, so ingrained in me that to remove it would take my very life.

I know that in your world, things seem so easy. You can form alliances and make plans and follow through, but things are different for me. I have very little in life, save my identity, and to throw that away would be madness. Do you think I would save you? Do not be mistaken. I would see the last drop of life squeezed from your body before I would try to save you. I cannot deny what I feel for you, but I cannot fight the future. Would you see me dead? No, but that is the difference between us. You are ever the hero, and I am skulking like a panther in the background waiting to pounce. Do not speak to me of love everlasting, against all odds. Only a fool can believe in that. I believe in what I know--pain, death, loss, betrayal. Love has no place in my life.

I am meant to be alone, restless--everything one expects from darkness. You say there is enough darkness in the world, enough suffering, and what would I know of it? But what would you know of me? I too have suffered. I too have lost. You never question what makes me who I am. Your concern lies purely on your own cause--never thinking a moment about mine. It makes you uncomfortable, to feel this way about someone so obviously evil. I can see it in your eyes when we are apart, when I am playing my role, and you are playing yours. But you must understand one thing to realize why. Darkness and light--these are the places we have come to fear the most.

I can feel you drawing closer, and can almost see your face, your emerald eyes shining with the light of a thousand stars, a smile on your lips. I will not deny that I am smiling too. A touch of your hand, and you pull me closer. Your tongue enters my mouth, your lips so soft, sucking the resistance from me like a dementor's kiss. Your hands roam my body, on my neck, my back, everywhere. The world is spinning and the skies are a sea of red and gold. Oh, sweet betrayal, thy name is Potter.