Across the Cauldron

Harry

Serving Potions detention, alone together with a certain, long-time rival -

Here we are, face to face across the cauldron. This potion tasted bittersweet, but not bad; I've certainly tasted worse. But it burns as it starts to work. I think you know by now it's not the one that Snape assigned. I slipped in my own secret ingredient before it was ladled it out, so there's no going back. There will be truth between us.

I'll start.

"Brave Gryffindor," right? I don't know about that. Just hear me out.

Most days I feel a right coward, too afraid that you'll mock me again to risk telling you anything. Until now, I've never had the nerve to come to you, but there were times I dared to make you notice me. I put myself in your way, praying you would take what was offered.

A few times you teased me with the possibility. You let me think that this time the inevitable would happen. But each time, you gave me that sly glance and rejected me again.

Why do you do that? Do you want to drive me mad with frustration? Does my anguish amuse you?

Perhaps you were waiting for just this, for me to commit myself.

We are supposed to be enemies. It's expected, part of the Order of the Universe. When I took a good hard look in the mirror, and first admitted my true feelings to myself, I felt ashamed. How could I want you? How could I care so little for the other people in my life?

Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Dumbledore. The Weasleys, Sirius, the guys. I love them all. My choosing you will disappoint them terribly, but I don't want the same things they do. They want me to be the Boy Who Lived, Voldemort's nemesis, the great bloody war hero. You, my friend, they cast as a villain.

Do they know what they're setting us up for? We'll both claim a lot of victims. God, I've started already. I became a killer at the age of eleven! Quirrell. Tom Riddle. (Yes, I knew what I was about when I stabbed the basilisk's fang into that diary.) I came within a heartbeat of murdering Sirius.

Voldemort is the only one I want to kill, but I'm no use against him. In all our duels, the best I've managed is to drive him off, while he usually gets first blood. And the blood he took in the graveyard -

It's...

It's my fault. My fault he has his powers back. I hate him so much, and what he did... He made me help him.

I wish I could kill him.

I wonder about you, love. Are you and he mates? Could you ever betray his trust and finish him off for me?

I don't want to live life for the sake of hatred. I want to be loved.

I want to go with you.

It breaks my heart to keep up the pretense. In front of the others, when we face off, I scream my contempt, while my soul whispers its desire. I know you hear the whisper.

As certain as Fawkes will rise from his ashes, I know that you want me. Don't forget, it was you who made the first advance, after all. And I put you down - hard. I'm sorry about that now. Imagine all the time and heartache we could have been spared.

Actually, there have been a few times when you reached out your hand to me. But suddenly, the reality of being with you was too much. I got scared, and I fought you for real.

Later, of course, was another story. What others mistook for fatigue or hurt was grief. I mourned the missed opportunities.

You already know most of what I've said. The truth I wanted to share with you is this:

I'm tired.

Tired of pretending not to want you,

Tired of fighting a war I never chose,

Tired of being afraid,

And tired of playing these games with you.

It's your turn.

The potion is working at full strength now, and if I've brewed it right, you cannot deny me.

Answer me this, my love. Will you finally take me?

You say nothing, but I have my answer. The silence seems to reverberate, and I feel dizzy and light, but you catch me as I fall into your arms. Your embrace is sweet relief. Your fingertips, cool as I imagined them, trace down my scar and quench its fire, then brush my eyelids. Your lips, softer than I ever thought possible, draw my breath into you on a sigh.

I told you about the time when I took a good hard look in the mirror and first admitted my true feelings to myself. It's when I knew I wanted you, Death.

The Mirror of Erised showed me together with my parents and all my family. Now I'll have my heart's desire. Please... take me to them.