All Consuming Darkness

Someone once said, " 'Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never to have loved at all."

I wonder if they knew what they were talking about.

Probably not. Otherwise they wouldn't have said it.

They probably never had to look into the eyes of their loved one, seeing none of their usual life and mischief. Never see their face not crinkled in laughter, but in fear, in determination. Never felt their hands, usually warm and inviting, cold and still. Never woken in the middle of the night and reached for them, only to realise the space next to you is empty. And always will be. Never had to say goodbye for the last time.

But I have.

I've done it all.

All because you died.

You died and left me behind, you stupid bastard!

I hate you.

Because of you, I no longer laugh. Because of you, I no longer smile. Because of you, I no longer love. My heart is barren.

It's your fault I hurt inside.

No.

No, it's not your fault and nor could I really hate you.

It's them I hate, not you.

It's them, all those people who pressured you, guilt-tripped you into doing what you did, that I hate.

Maybe they didn't realise what they were doing to you. Maybe they did. It doesn't matter anymore. It's too late.

...

I remember ...

I remember all those nights we would just sit and talk. We would talk about everything and nothing. Sometimes we didn't talk at all, just sat in each other's arms. We didn't need to talk, we understood each other. We understood the silence.

But there were times when you would talk about your fears. You were scared you would them all down, that you would disappoint them, that if you didn't defeat Voldemort (that's right, I said his name, are you proud of me?) they would all die. You felt it was your destiny to kill him. After all you were The Boy Who Lived, if you couldn't defeat him, who could?

Who indeed Harry?

Maybe you were the only one who could defeat him.

Maybe not.

They could have trained us so that we were strong enough to at least help you in the end, so that you wouldn't have to face him alone. Dumbledore and all the others, they could have at least tried to do something. But did they?

No they didn't, and so, you died.

In defeating the Dark Lord, you fulfilled your obligations, real or imagined, to the Wizarding and Muggle communities.

But in dieing, you broke your promise Harry. The one you made to me before the battle. You said you would stay alive. You told me you'd come back to me.

But you didn't.

You broke your promise Harry, and now, I'm alone.

...

Sometimes ...

Sometimes, I lie alone and I wonder, would I be this miserable if I had never loved you?

And the answer ...

The answer is no.

If I had never fallen in love with you, I wouldn't feel like half my soul has been ripped from me. If I had never loved you, I would be thinking your death was a tragedy, not wondering whether I would see you again if I accidentally cut my wrists. If I had never loved you, I wouldn't be sitting here, about to do this.

But I did love you.

I love you Harry.

You were the world to me.

You ARE the world to me.

Without you, life's not worth it.

I'm coming to join you Harry.

Get ready.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The dark form slumped backwards into a pile of pillows immaculately arranged as a flash of green light filled the room. A dull thud sounded as a wand dropped onto the carpeted floor. The room was silent, only the soft mumuring of the wind could be heard. A beam of bright moonlight illuminated the room, casting an eerie light around it. All was still.

~Fin~