He didn't want to speak of love.
He'd once approached the word, delicately, tentatively, but
finding its dimensions too many, its shape unfamiliar, its movements strange
and haphazard, he'd shrunk away.
Already too much to worry about, he'd
thought, dejected, on the train.
He'd had opportunities to notice. He felt apprehensive
about noticing. Noticing carried too many risks and responsibilities. He felt
encumbered, already, by friendships and anxieties, compounding dreams,
nightmares of obligations imposed by prophesies.
He understood the risk his friendship and love could
So, naturally, while he loved his friends and his teachers,
"love" was a word he avoided at all costs, in his mind as well as
When Harry arrived back in Surrey, and had freed himself
from Uncle Vernon's hostile frown and Dudley's frightened whining, he lay on
his bed, studying the bleak ceiling once again.
He'd had opportunities to notice, and he finally had to
admit it to himself, but he wouldn't let the words take direct shape in his
But then the clouds came; daydreams of anticipated
nightmares filled the empty air above him.
Every summer I lie here with my eyes
fixed on this horrible ceiling, while fire
flashes in my mind. I always promise
myself, 'next year will be sane,' but
disrupt my dreams, and when I wake, a
seems to hang in my thoughts. I'm all
All alone, and they're hunters. So alone
I lie, my eyes locked on this ceiling,
fixed in fear, unblinking, waiting for
to clear, make room for empty skies, starfire.
I'm not afraid. I'm lonely. The monsters
know what I need, know my mind, promise
me horrible things. The hunter's promise
to his prey: 'We will kill you cold
Never doubt the promises of monsters.'
That's how Cedric fell with a breath, his
exhaled and extinguished. Sirius, fire
alight in his eyes, fell, vanished like
I just stood both times, numb, fleeting as
as weak as a breath. I cannot promise
my friends they won't die because of me.
surrounds me, it seems, burns. I alone
am not hurt, but all that I touch dies.
eyes. My eyes have witnessed the monsters
as they hunt and prey: 'Crucio!' the
scream. I hear this every night. Dark as
their dark sentiments storm, darken my
I hate them. If I... If I could
I could promise... that you're not alone.
Do I stare at a ceiling, or fire?
Every time I see you I think of fire,
lately, I mean, sometimes, when the
crowd my head, I think of you. You're
but you're shining like a fire through the
And if I could protect you, could
that no hunters or monsters fill our
My mind's filled with smoke. Your hair
shines like fire,
light burning monsters. And if I promise
we won't be alone... You. I miss your
He caught his thought.
He held it for a moment.
He carefully stowed it away.