Maybe I'm Just Kidding Myself

It's been three years since I saw those big, green eyes. During the final battle, I remember thinking it was sort of ironic that they were same shade as the light from Death Curse.

I got there too late. I wouldn't have if I hadn't been held up by my dear auntie Bellatrix. She gave the scar on my cheekbone. But I killed her, so I suppose we're even.

When I got there, I saw two bodies on the floor. One was long and horribly thin. Its red eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling. The other was the limp form of Harry Potter. For a second, I just stared in disbelief at him. He was still in his dress robes from Graduation. His holly wand was lying on the floor, a few inches from his hand.

Suddenly my throat constricted and my body wracked with sobs. I threw myself on top of him, crying into his chest. And then I heard it. A heartbeat. Faint, but unmistakable. I stopped crying and looked up hopefully. I saw Draco standing in the doorway, blood making his fair hair red. I heard footsteps behind him and soon Tonks and Remus standing behind him, looking bloody and morose.

"He's alive," I croaked.

Remus crossed the room and checked Harry's pulse. "Tonks, help me with him. Draco, you take her," he nodded in my direction. I felt arms scoop me up. I fought weakly.

"I'm fine. I want to stay with Harry," I tried to shout, but it came out as little more than a hoarse whisper. I could feel Draco moving down stairs now and I grimaced in pain at every step. I couldn't hold back any longer. I started to sob into Draco's neck.

"Shh. It's alright. It's over now," he murmured. His voice had lost all of its usual callousness. I must have blacked out after that, because the next thing I remember is waking up in St. Mungo's.

Draco's face was the first thing I saw. He smiled widely. No smirk, no sneer, just a smile. "Hey you," he said softly. I smiled in return until the memories came flooding back to me.

"Where's Harry?"

Draco's face fell. "He's here...he's in a different room."

For the first time, I noticed Graham standing near the door.

"How is he?"

Graham opened his mouth to speak, but sighed instead. Draco put his elbow on his knee and rested his forehead in his palm. Graham pressed his lips together thoughtfully and finally said, "Well, we don't know yet. He hasn't woken up. And it doesn't look like he's going to."

"Can I see him?" my voice sounded tiny and far away.

Harry was lying there looking exactly the same as he had the night I found him. His eyes were closed and his skin was much paler than usual. His scar burned a bright red against his white forehead.

Ginny was by his bedside watching him as if she expected his eyes to flutter open at any moment. Sweet Ginny. She and Harry were the only ones that still spoke to me after I was sorted into Slytherin. Ron and Hermione acted as if I'd chosen it myself. They'd already spent the summer before in distrust of me and my surname. Because I was the daughter of a Death Eater I'd never met. I think I saw him that night. His eyes were the same muddied blue as mine. But maybe I'm just kidding myself.

Hermione and I get along alright now. I guess she knows I helped as much as she did. Ron and Draco have even become friends sort of. Everyone knows if hadn't been for Draco, things might have gone very differently that night. If he hadn't told us that the final attack was going to be during Graduation, none of us would've been prepared. Half the Order wouldn't have been there.

Nobody really understood why Draco was helping us except me. Nobody else had heard his father shouting "Crucio!" again and again at his whimpering son. It was during the Christmas break I spent at the Malfoys in my seventh year, before Draco found out whose side I was really on. By the time he did, it was his side as well. I've never gotten the courage to ask him why he was being punished. He doesn't like to talk about his father.

I still see Ginny. She visits Harry as often as I do. It's the only thing she and Neville fight about. How she shouldn't be seeing him if she's still loves Harry. But the fights never last long, Ginny tells me. Apparently she's got Neville wrapped around her finger. Who would have guessed.

Ron and Hermione visit every year on Harry's birthday. I suppose they would visit more often if they had more time. Ron's always busy with Auror training and Hermione's just as busy with the bookshop, which is getting to be even more of a handful now that she's pregnant. She told me if it's a boy, they're going to name him Harry.

I've been helping George out with the joke shop. He's been having trouble coming up with new inventions. He hasn't been the same since Fred died. It's a miracle George is alive considering all the hexes he had on him.

I'm still living with Aunt Andy and Uncle Ted. It's getting pathetic. I should move out soon. I'm twenty years old for Merlin's sake. I should get a real job as well. Maybe one at Gringotts with Graham and Bill. It's just hard. Everything changed that night and I don't know if I can take more change. I know it's been three years, but it still feels like it was yesterday.

Draco's asked me to marry him. Several times. Aunt Andy thinks it's a good idea. She says then she can finally be my aunt for real and it'll stop sounding so silly. She's the closest thing to a mother I've got so I really should listen to her.

But what about Harry?

Ginny and I are the only who still have any hope about him waking up. When Hannah starting working at St. Mungo's, she told me she had loads of ideas about treatment. But she's not so optimistic anymore.

I should marry Draco. It is a good idea. Then I could move into the Manor and get out of Aunt Andy's hair. I'd finally be rid of my awful last name. Tonks says Malfoy makes as many people cringe as Lestrange does, but she doesn't understand how much I hate it. Not the way she hates Nymphadora. I called her Nymphie once and she threw a hairbrush at me. It isn't like that. It's the way you hate a scar. It's always there reminding you of the past. But in my case it's worse because it's someone else's past. At least being a Malfoy would be my choice.

And I do love him. Maybe not the same way I love Harry, but it's still love. But marrying him means giving up; it's admitting defeat. Harry never gave up on me, so it just doesn't seem fair.

None of this is fair.

I've tried using the Pensieve. I've gone through that memory a hundred times. I thought if I could see how it happened, it could help Harry. But every time I get to that room, no matter when it is, they're lying there on floor motionless.

I need some fire whiskey. Hermione thinks it's dreadful that I drink, but she's just too much of a girl to stomach it. Aunt Andy won't let me have any at the house since I'm underage, but I'll get George and he'll buy me some. She's so protective of me. She always has been. Even more than she was of Tonks, and I'm not even her daughter. She wouldn't even let me go to Hogwarts until she and Dumbledore had a chat after my fifth year of being home-taught. She never told me exactly why she wouldn't let me go for so long. It must've had something to do with my father. What would people say if they heard, "Lestrange, Morgana," called at the Sorting ceremony? Well, I found out. I was dubbed 'that Lestrange girl' and was the odds on favorite to become the first Death Eater of our class. To be fair, it was probably a tie between me and Draco.

It's funny how much he's changed. I guess war does that to people. None of us are the same. We lost too many to just go to back to the way it was before. Fred, Percy, Moody, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Luna, Dean- all gone. And I lost Pansy. She was my best friend. I watched her die. I miss her almost as much as I miss Harry.

As much as the war tore us apart, it also brought us together. People realized that they might not have tomorrow to say, "I love you," or "I'm sorry." I guess that's what made Draco brave enough to tell me. We had a fight about it not so long ago. I was over at the Manor with him, and afterwards I was planning on swinging by St. Mungo's. It was a mistake to mention it.

"Why do you still go?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"You're in love with him, I get it. He's still beating me, even in death."

"He's not dead."

"He's gone and he's not coming back, Gana, so why do you keeping doing this to yourself? To me? You need to move on."

"Me? I need to move on? You've been asking me to marry you for the past year."

"And you still haven't answered me! I love you, Morgana Lestrange, and I want to make you happy. Did he love you? I mean, did he ever even tell you that?"

I didn't answer.

"Gana, let me take care of you."

"I have to go." And I left.

We haven't talked about it since. I really should answer him. Tonks has been on my back about sorting things out and settling down. She's one to talk. She's been living with Remus for years, and she still won't marry him. Though I suspect Remus'll make an honest woman out of her some day. But Morgana Lestrange and honest woman do not belong in the same sentence.

Everyone thinks I'm so wonderful now. It's disgusting. Those same people that had been whispering about how I ought to be hauled off to Azkaban when we were at Hogwarts. Now I'm a saint instead of an evil, raving lunatic. Truthfully, I'm not either of those things. I miss having people around that really know me. I've got Tonks and Draco, but that's about it. Maybe Graham.

That's it. I'm done remembering. Bring on the fire whiskey.

I tried, Harry. I really did. But I don't how much longer I can keep hoping.