Quote Me if I'm Wrong

Chapter Two: The Difference Between Vrai and Faux

Imagination is the one weapon in the war against reality. -Jules de Gauliter

People actually thought that his death would send me over the edge that was looming closer and closer to the toes of my shoes. Reporters, worshipers, and even my family thought that I would lose what sanity I had left in me.

My initial instinct told me to be sullen and easy to anger and for a while that was how I reacted to every action of guidance. The Dursleys feared me and the possible wrath that could over come me. I can understand the way they acted around me, it makes complete sense. If I had been told to leave my potentially violent nephew alone by a nutter with two different eyes I would have let the kid be.

The silence of my relations gave me time to reflect on what had happened, and whom I had left behind. I hadn't left Sirius behind, I had lost him and he would not be back. I had lost my godfather and father figure, though unwittingly. But the person I left behind was myself, and I shed my old skin somewhat willingly.

I am not who I was. I am no longer the anger ridden boy I was. Anger does nothing for me, it destructs all of us, and it ruins what was and what would be.

While it is all nice and good that I have come to terms with my anger, I haven't forgiven myself for what has become. It is because of me that my godfather is dead, I followed the 'vision' and I dragged myself and my friends to an unknown place and lined up our souls for slaughter. It is my fault.

I cannot erase my mistakes, only recognize them and hope that I do not do the same thing again. If I am not brave no one will be.

Sirius left us to a world of great and monumental change. When I look Lupin's in the eyes I see that he will not ever love again, and though he pats me on the back his eyes do the speaking his vocal chords won't. Tonks claims that we will survive to see what he would want us to see, but her eyes are gray and lack shine, her figure stoops, and pink hair has faded to the doldrums.

But most of all it is the state of my family that bothers me the most. Mrs. Weasly just smiles and puts more food on my plate, and Hermione hardly eats at all. Ron visits memories that have never belonged to him, and Ginny shines in an exulted confidence that she should not have had.

This is how I wish reality stood, but it doesn't. People do not understand what I have gone through to be a semi-sane boy, I cannot handle his departure, and I have taken refuge in the small sliver of my mind where he still lives on, where there is in fact a tomorrow.

Hermione, though weak, always manages a larger meal portion than me, she constantly smiles, and she is the one who is pounding at my door ceaselessly yelling about something Ginny has done to herself.

Ron and I have drifted and he suffers mentally, but even he who feels the thoughts of others is stronger than I who have not that burden. My burden is to die or kill, kill or die. Neither option I find all that enticing, so I cower in my subconscious giving the outer world a glazed look of peace and unfashionable serenity.

Tonks and Lupin have found what they wanted in one another, and I have been left to see what will not be seen to them. I wish with all of me, every fiber that I could be that boy who eats at dinner, who gets out of bed to face the wry at heart and bring he light to the dark. Unfortunately I am nit him and I have found my imagination is a formidable weapon against the sands or time and grains of reality.