Written In The Stars

I am here to tell you we can never meet again

Simple really, isn't it, a word or two and then

A lifetime of not knowing where or how or why or when

You think of me or speak of me or wonder what befell

The someone you once loved so long ago so well

Harry staired down at the letter in his hand, leaning back against his oak headboard. The loving, flowing script before his eyes was shaky, words written from a heart that hated each one of them. He longed to hold the letter writer in his arms, to comfort the body who’s heard broke with each sentence. To stroke the hand that shook so badly it left huge blotches of ink across the ivory parchment.

Never wonder what I'll feel as living shuffles by

You don't have to ask me and I need not reply

Every moment of my life from now until I die

I will think or dream of you and fail to understand

How a perfect love can be confounded out of hand

Draco stared out at the falling night, watching the horizon for a flash of brown and white wing. Tears slid down his face, following the path that so many others had taken that night as he waited for his owl to return. He didn’t expect a response from the addressee, it was better that way.

Is it written in the stars

Are we paying for some crime

Is that all that we are good for

Just a stretch of mortal time

Is this God's experiment

In which we have no say

In which we're given paradise

But only for a day

Harry sent the sad owl on it’s way with an owl treat and a kiss good-bye. He turned away from the window, the letter now forgotten beside him as he stared out the window into the night sky. He had known this night would once come, known it since the first kiss his lover had graced him with. No love could last forever, and no enemies could truly become lovers. The rules of the world forbid it. And should by chance, such a thing ever happen, then life would of course intervene to tear the star-crossed lovers apart.

Nothing can be altered, there is nothing to decide

No escape, no change of heart, no anyplace to hide

You are all I'll ever want, but this I am denied

Sometimes in my darkest thoughts, I wish I'd never learned

What it is to be in love and have that love returned

Draco turned away from the window as the bird flew in, letting the heavy velvet curtains close between him and the world outside. He sat on his bed, laying back amid the mounds of pillows and stared at the locked door across the room from him. His father leaned against the other side of the door, eyes closed in pain, head against the solid, worn wood as he slid the last lock in place and cast a final spell to keep it that way. It tore Lucius apart to have to resort to such measures, but his son was sick…deranged even, and it was his job to keep young Draco, and the rest of the family safe.