Taking Flight

All that stands between me, and certain death is a wall. A stone wall, with a beautiful ebony door, slim and inlaid with ivory. The pictures on the doorframe seem to tell a story, separate and connected.

I, the hero of the world. I, the courageous knight in armor. I, the ministry's poster boy. I, a fourteen year old boy gazing after Cho Chang. I, a sixteen year old boy with a changed vision of the world. I, a man that would kill himself if it took Voldemort with him.

But now, I begin to wonder. Would I? Because now, only a wall lies between me, and my death. Life is such a fragile thing.

It takes a great effort of muscles and body to climb up a staircase. You see, above is a glass window beginning to clear, you see a hint of sky -

But it takes only one slip of the foot to fall.

And love. What a mystery. Did I love Cho? Did I love Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and (impossible as it may seem) Dudley? Yes, in a way I did. They kept me from this, sheltered me. They were right.

I love Ginny. I love Hermione. I love Ron. I love Professor McGonagall. I love all of my teachers. I love Remus. I love Tonks. I loved Sirius. I loved Dumbledore, in a strange way. And I loved Draco. You may say I am too free with love, but in such a world, love is something to be administered in great quantaties.

The future is, perhaps, even stranger than love. Say you were performing the simple act of pouring water into a glass. There are a million things that could go wrong. A cat could jumpand knock he glass over. You might miss the glass. There could be a sudden heat wave and the glass might break. But are these different pathways, or is the course already set? Is the water destined to be poisoned. Of course, as someone put the poison into the jug. Or it could simply be a naturally occurring poison that unfortunately happened in your drink. Then, are you fated to drink it? You could have simply chosen fruit juice over water that evening. Or are you meant to drink the water, the venom thus running through your veins and killing you so quickly?

Are these the thoughts of a dying man? A man who knows he is going to die? A hopeless man? A determined man?

Even if I die...if I die, then my life will be gone. How strange; will I look from above, observing my funeral? Will Voldemort still reign? I am a last hope. Always there are those who come to save the day, but no one ever considered that they might not be able to .

One candle alone can illuminate, even if ever so slightly, the darkness. Why is it that it only takes one breath to blow the candle out?