Fallen by zaileia

Rating: G
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/07/2004
Last Updated: 25/07/2004
Status: Completed

This is the sequal to Walking in Memphis dealing with the events leading up to Hermione's
emigration to Memphis, and revealing why she left Harry. So its a prequel within a sequel...
"Prophecies are tricky things. They presume to tell you everything when in fact they tell you
nothing, especially when you receive it in fragments in the first place."




1. Fallen
---------



Fallen

*Dark times lie ahead, but at the Solstice will come a new light, and the promise of new
charmed life shall be borne within her as winter turns to summer.*

*None will have come before her and none will come after.*

*The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches his destiny. He will be born to
those who have thrice defied Him, born as the seventh month dies away.*

*The Dark Lord must choose the one to whom he hands his life's fate and the Dark Lord will
mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not of and cannot
understand.*

*On the night of the 18**th* *Solstice the final battle will be fought
and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives, and
only in death can peace be made by the child of the light. For although the one with the power to
vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies, it is by her hand that the end will
come.*

Prophecies are tricky things. They presume to tell you everything when in fact they tell you
nothing, especially when you receive it in fragments in the first place!

They cause so much trouble, those few words… but then, words usually do. What is that saying,
the pen is mightier than the sword? Well, I think that's safely been backed up by our lives,
that is to say, Harry's and mine. All this trouble over a few supposedly prophetic words spoken
by an insane spiritualist over twenty years ago? It barely seems possible.

I was clearing out my apartment a few days ago in a long overdue attempt at spring cleaning when
I can across one of my old diaries, the only diary I have with me. I've been keeping them since
I can remember, but the only one that has survived my emigration is the one in which I was writing
when I left my life behind me, when I left him behind.

The cover of the book itself held a richness of memories for me. It was a simple notebook that
my mother had brought back with her from Peru six years ago for my birthday. It was woven with
pink, orange and black tapestry threads, thick and soft, worn at the corners revealing the
cardboard like cover underneath. On the inside cover my mother's delicate and precise
handwriting had written my name and a simple message, words which in hindsight seem to sum up my
bond with her.

*September 19**th**,*

*Hermione Jane Granger*

*My darling daughter*

*You have a wisdom that is far beyond your years, so every time you have a problem and I am
not there to help find the solution, write it down and your heart will give you the answer that
your head cannot.*

*Angels delivered you to my door, and will continue to watch over you for me,*

*now and forever.*

I stopped writing a diary the moment I landed in Memphis, maybe that's why I started writing
fiction, I don't know. The point is, I read the book cover to cover, smiling at some memories,
crying at others, but one entry stood out amongst the rest. The last entry.

It was so…*real*. I could recall every emotion and every though that I had written as if
the entry had been made only yesterday. Time sometimes alters perception, and I now see how true
that is. I had no idea how clearly I was thinking back then, it felt so random and muddled and
inarticulate. Maybe it was and I can just make sense of it because I wrote it… well, I'll let
you read it for yourself, and you can decide.

*

*June 28**th*

I can't fully comprehend what has happened to me over the last week. All the images that
flash into my mind are out of sequence and played like a badly edited movie, sometimes missing
sound and others being so loud that one word radiates around the shell of my formally complex
psyche. The events that have led me to be on this plane seem so distant and illusory, like a bad
dream. But I can't wake up from this dream and no amount of magic can fix what has
happened.

The only image I can see, burned into my minds eye for all eternity is the look on his face when
I told him I had to go, when I told him I was leaving him. I could see in his emerald green eyes
that he so badly wanted to live the cliché. I think secretly he expected to lay dead, a martyr,
giving his life to save the world. When he had lived through the war, had woken up with me by his
side, I could see he thought he had gotten his happily ever after… but I've taken that away
from him… I… I couldn't give him his happy ending, the happy ending he deserved so much.

My mind couldn't, still can't, process the facts about what has happened… what I did.
That detail in itself is unsettling for me to say the least! To not be able to think my way out of
a dilemma is an alien experience, I am, after all, `the brainy one'. The only way I can see any
possibility in moving on is to organise my thoughts. It's an eight hour flight at least to
Memphis, I just hope that's enough time!

I guess I should start at the beginning, from the moment I received my Hogwarts letter, from the
first day I met Harry, but that would take far to long, and as I don't intend for anyone else
to read this, it shouldn't have to make sense. No, I'll start from the day that I realised
the war was about to become a battle… the final battle, and that I discovered my role in it.

Even then, I'm ashamed to admit, I thought that it was Harry's fight. I had yelled at
him so often that he was not alone, that we would be there by his side… but I knew that was a lie.
I wanted desperately for him not to realise that, I wanted him to live the lie that the rest of us
had deceived ourselves into believing.

Now I understand why he couldn't.

It was exactly two weeks ago that I was sitting alone in the divination classroom. I'm not
sure what drew me there, it being a place that I had avoided ever since my outburst in third year.
After all that's happened though, I can accept that it was fate. Divine intervention is not
something I could comprehend before, but for once in my life the *how* something happened is
irrelevant once the *why* has been revealed.

It was early, maybe three in the morning, but the sky was clear of clouds revealing the mystical
sight of the stars. I had opened every window I could find, willing crisp cold air into the incense
laden atmosphere of this fortune tellers territory. I could feel the purity of the world outside
purging the stifling milieu.

Contrary to popular opinion, I am not against the concept of divination per se. When read
correctly I do believe that the world sends us signs to help us along our path, but as for seeing
death in the dregs of a teacup, I'm sorry, but that's not my cup of tea… pardon the
appalling pun.

Maybe it has something to do with growing up in a Christian community, even though I never
really felt I belonged there. I always kind of liked the idea the God was watching over us, it made
me feel safe. I was a practical child even then however, and if I had no proof, then I was
reluctant to accept the existence.

Whatever the cause of my previous misgivings into the spiritual, I knew beyond all doubt that
what I found in that classroom was real.

I had spent so long being scared and unsure of what lay ahead of me, that to be given an answer,
a path, even one as terrifying as this, was a relief. Ever since the attack at the Ministry when I
was fifteen, the war had been real to me. I never let anyone see how frightened I was, but being
hurt the way I was woke me up to the realities of what war meant, and what it meant to love Harry
Potter. I was at the front line, standing behind the man I loved, knowing that I would die for him.
My death didn't scare me, but his chilled me to my very soul.

Then I was given the answer. It was as if I had been touched by heaven itself and was being
safely led down the right road, led towards my destiny. Before all that lay ahead of me was hell,
flames blocking me at every turn. Pain and death were my future, and I couldn't bear it any
longer. I thought the only way out was death, but the cost of my suicide was more than I could even
bear to comprehend. I couldn't do that to him, I couldn't leave him, not yet.

To tell the truth, I knew that I was going to have to leave him. Our relationship was destroying
me, and for all the love I have for him, I knew that if we made it through, I'd leave. I just
never thought it would be like this.

Is this making any sense? I still feel pretty confused.

I've been trying so hard to forget everything that I'm lost in a fissure between the now
and the then. I feel like I'm falling into an abyss, like I'm loosing my mind slowly, piece
by piece. Maybe its because I've been trying to forget that I've sunk so low into myself,
as strange as it seems, the logical thing for me to do to move on, is to go back…

Harry and I had been a couple for nearly six months before the final battle loomed over
Hogwarts, although it seemed a lot longer. I don't mean that in a bad way, its just that we
sort of slipped into a full on relationship. We never got to have a first date as such, I mean, of
course we had our first date, but a first date with your best friend is rather different from a
first date with, well, a *date*.

There was none of the getting to know each other or eyeing each other up, we already knew
everything about each other, emotionally and physically… well, almost everything anyway, there were
some lapses in knowledge in that area at least. But the point is, we were so close already, there
was no other way for us to begin a relationship than a deep commitment.

Despite what was written in Witch Weekly, I honestly didn't fall for Harry in that way till
our seventh year at Hogwarts. If I'm honest with myself, between years two and five I had a
crush on Ron of all people… but it wasn't meant to be, we clashed too much. I think it was a
case of opposites attracting. With Harry and I though, we just clicked, always did really. We were
so comfortable together.

I never did find out if he thought about me as more that a friend before I kissed him (yes,
*I* kissed *him*!), but it doesn't matter. No offence to Harry, he's really very
clever when it comes to spells and alike, but people are like an alien species to him, and like I
said, we knew each other so well that I could tell he'd never grasp any subtle hints I sent his
way.

So that's how we started. Not particularly spectacular, but it was like a fairy tale to me
and always will be. That was the night I got my prince.

Things started to go wrong in my mind about four months later. I'm not sure when I started
putting Harry's needs before my own, but that's when I first noticed that I did. Harry had
been assigned position of Head Boy that year but had turned it down saying that this was just
Dumbledore making a gesture. I never said it, but I agreed in a way. Dumbledore was making a
gesture of peace, of friendship. He was in his way, asking Harry for forgiveness, something that I
would later tell Harry he shouldn't even have to ask for. But that's getting ahead of
myself. The point is, Harry refused to be Head Boy, so the post went to Draco Malfoy of all people.
I refused to be Head Girl along side that peroxide ferret, so stood my ground with Harry.

I think secretly Harry expected to be made Quidditch Captain that year anyway, so when Ron go
the post he was more than a little bitter to say the least. Again though, I never told Harry that
Ron would probably make the better captain. He had a tactical mind beyond that of any War General
in history. So there, I had sacrificed my Head Girl badge and my own opinions to keep Harry happy,
and that's the way we continued to be. Harry's needs always came first.

I can't be bitter about that, I never have been and I never intend to be. I love him so
much, I don't see him as being selfish or uncaring because I think he deserves to be loved and
cared for unconditionally, the way his parents never got a chance to. But you see, I'm not his
mother, I was his girlfriend… his lover, and romantic, passionate love should work both ways, and
after four months, I knew that it would never happen.

I still continued to be with Harry though, despite knowing we would never last beyond the war…
one way or another. God, I hate to admit it but I think a part of me, just like a part of him,
thought that he wouldn't survive. I wanted him to so badly, I wanted him to live a full and
blissful life with someone whom he loved and who loved him the way I do. I wanted to give my life
for his… I wanted to give my life.

That was the thought that catalysed my realisation of how bad I'd let things get. I
wasn't willing to die for Harry anymore, I *wanted* to die for him. It seemed like the
perfect way to end our relationship. He would know that I loved him enough to give my life and he
could move on without me, living to honour my death. Are you noticing a connection between the past
and present yet?

My death would resolve nothing. It would accomplish nothing but pain and anger. It would be a
selfish act, leaving Harry to cope with yet another loss. He couldn't take anymore grief, yet
more grief was sure to come.

Our love was about togetherness and living, about being together forever. It was raw and young,
passionate and idealised. We believed in the beginning that by having each other all the pains are
trials of the past would be undone and forgotten to time. All the anger Harry felt over his parents
murder, Sirius's death, Dumbledore abandoning him, all of it could somehow be turned into
something beautiful and worthwhile. I knew he hoped that if he opened himself up to me, something
would change in himself, make him a more secure person. But such burdens are not so easily lifted.
We were existing in a dream of happily ever after… and then I woke up.

Harry was living in a temporary land of fantasy, ignoring his problems instead of solving them.
He couldn't see this, but I could. The lonely light of dawn had revealed to me the truth of
what had to be done in order to achieve the final healing of Harry's residual emotional scars.
And it meant loosing the most precious thing in my life… as it turned out, death would have been a
small price to pay compared to what I ended up giving.

I spent so long unsure of what it was I was meant to do to help Harry, and then one day, fate
delivered the answer to me.

In the divination classroom, currently abandoned by Professor Trelawney as she had her now
regular sessions with Dumbledore, attempting to see the outcome of the war with little success (or
so I thought), I found my answer, my path. Sybil certainly hadn't received any new prophecies,
but that was because all the answers had already been given to her. She just didn't know
it.

On one of the small circular coffee tables that adorned her classroom (I use that term loosely
as it seems more like a tea room to me!) was sitting a pile of unorganised parchment, each covered
in scribbles of nonsensical sentences. It looked as though the fortune teller was trying to piece
together a puzzle or jumbled up phrases to make a story. It wasn't a story that I ended up with
once I'd completed her task however, it was a prophecy.

A mind that dwells on the divine, such as that of Sybil Trelawney, would have taken years to
piece together the logical solution to her disjointed prediction. My mind, the problem solving
machine that it is, made sense of her words within two hours.

I remain sceptical that even if I had given the full prophecy to Trelawney that she would have
been able to make any sense of it. What I had created was laden with metaphor and worldly wise
arithmetic. It was one of those things that, as Ron would say, only Hermione Granger could
comprehend. I don't know about that. Maybe I did understand it because solving riddles is
something I'm good at, or maybe I grasped the truth because the truth, was about me.

I don't know if I can explain clearly what was being foretold, but I suppose I have to try
if I intend this account to make any sense at all.

The prophecy spoke of a light arriving at the solstice, the light being a new life, a child. The
solstice could have meant either the Summer Solstice on June 21st or Winter Solstice on
, but the addition of the line `as winter turned to summer' obviously referred to the annual
Summer Solstice.

At first I thought that this meant the `child of the light' would be born on June
21st, which put me out of the running for the title, but after many musings I realised
that this was not necessarily true. This child would be adorned with the gift of magic, or to quote
the foretelling, `charmed' on this date. I don't know much about biology, that's what
comes from going to a Wizarding School, but who's to say when magic becomes part of a babies
growing veins? I've heard of some who haven't realised their magical potential until well
into their adult years. Magic isn't a science, and I think that's the point.

And she would have to be born to Muggle parents, a Muggle-born girl. Do you see where I'm
going with this? A Muggle-born witch, born eighteen solstice's ago, eighteen solstices before
the final battle between the dark lord and Harry Potter. I think that puts me securely back in the
running, don't you?

As for the `none will come after' part, I guess I'll have to wait and see, but I have my
theories. For now its irrelevant.

My evidence may seem shoddy, but at that point I *knew* that this prophecy referred to me,
I knew it with every fibre of my being. And I knew what I was going to have to do. I had been taken
by the hand by some divine power and shown my destiny, but there was nowhere else for me to turn if
I didn't like what my destiny held for me. There was no way out, and even if there were, I know
I wouldn't have taken it, even if I'd known the price I'd have to pay.

I said nothing about my findings to anyone, I didn't want everyone to try and disprove what
I knew or try to change the course of fate. Whatever interpretation was accepted the conclusion
would try to be manipulated, and it would all be for nothing as the future is always one step ahead
of the present.

There is nothing for me to do now except skip ahead to the fight.

Hogwarts was the scene of the conflict as Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked the supposedly
secure grounds of my home away from home. I later discovered that we were not only attacked from
the grounds but from within as well, and I have my suspicions as to who was responsible for
that…

I was out in the Forbidden Forest however, with Harry as we fled from the battle scene,
searching for the general behind the front line. Harry didn't want me with him, that much was
clear, but I wasn't going to be dissuaded and he knew me well enough to give up trying once
we'd set out. Ron was facing the music as it were, heading a student attack force along with
previous DA members. I never did tell him how proud I was of him…

We found Voldemort… no, that gives us too much credit, we stumbled across Voldemort at the edge
of Hogwarts grounds, at the trough of the cliff edge that towered above the Loch at whose basin the
three of us now stood.

If he was surprised that we had found him then it didn't show. All that could be seen behind
his blood red eyes was malice and hatred. Even as we stood there in front of the most feared wizard
in history, I remember thinking how ironic that Harry possessed eyes of Slytherin emerald green,
and Voldemort those of Ruby Gryffindor red. Destiny has a fondness for irony, that I know as a fact
from personal experience.

The exact motions of the fight itself and the seemingly endless banter leading up to it are
something I can't remember. What was said was between Harry and the creature that murdered his
parents, I was just watching Harry's back for any devious acts the dark lord might pull.

As it happened however, the one thing Harry and Voldemort had in common was that this final, and
they both knew this was final, confrontation was strictly between them, just as it had begun. Just
Harry and Voldemort and two wands powered by the feathers of one phoenix.

Curses were thrown and Harry pushed me out of the way, unintentionally loading me to fall and
hit my head on a rock. I must have passed out for a moment or two because when I came to, the
situation had altered dramatically. Harry's wand lay snapped in to on the ground by his feet,
broken beyond repair, and Voldemort stood holding its brother to the throat of my beloved.

It makes me feel sick thinking about it even now, the flash of death disguised as green light
surrounding its victim, all brought on by two little words.

Avada Kedavra

At that moment I thought I'd lost him, I couldn't even scream as the light faded as
quickly as it came. I watched, waiting for his body to fall limply, lifeless, to the floor. I can
see the image as clearly as if it were playing on the miniature video screen in front of me, but it
never happened.

Harry stood there in front of the Dark Lord, defiant as ever, alive.

In anger and frustration at having failed to execute this child with the killing curse for a
second time, Voldemort struck Harry about the face with all his physical strength, throwing the
lean form of Harry face first into the lake, unconscious.

I panicked and ran to his aid, but was thrown back away from Harry's drowning body. I
can't explain how what happened next came to be, I can only say that it was fate.

Harry's broken wand lay inches from my right hand, my wand hand. I took hold of the handle
and somehow, some innate magic within myself caused the wand to heal. The two pieces melded into
one and without a second thought I pointed it at the thing that had destroyed my soul mates life,
in every sense.

I don't remember saying the words, maybe I did maybe I didn't, but whether vocalised or
not, the signature green light of the killing curse filled the sky once again, only this time from
my hand, directed at He Who Must Not Be Named.

At that moment I saw genuine emotion behind those dead eyes. Shock, surprise… fear. I could see
the final thread of humanity left in the black soul that resided in a resurrected body, and I
killed it. I killed *him*.

When you deliver the killing curse a little bit of your own magical essence gets mingled in with
the residual magic that exists all around us. When I delivered the killing curse, all of my magical
essence went with it. I knew it as soon as it happened, but right then I didn't care. All I
cared about was Harry, and as soon as the body in front of me… well, what was left of it after all
the magic keeping it alive had dispersed, sunk to the ground, I ran to Harry's side.

He was so cold. His lips were blue and knew he was dead. Somehow through my tears of grief I had
the sense to start CPR, he had drowned I kept telling myself, there's still a chance…

God I'm crying even as I write this. It seemed like forever that I was pumping his chest and
breathing all the life I had into him, in truth it could only have been a couple of minutes before
Dumbledore Apparated (for the Death Eaters had disabled all the protection charms around the castle
anyway) to the site, followed by various member of the Order of the Phoenix.

He wasted no time in issuing a restorative spell and instantly Harry coughed back to life in my
arms. I held him so tightly, trying to delude myself for a few minutes that I'd never have to
let him go. He was in shock and the only thing he said before slipping into a deep coma were four
words that I knew would be the key to his survival.

I saw my parents.

The next couple of weeks passed like a blur. All the Death Eaters, having lost their connection
to Voldemort as soon as he died… as soon as I killed him, had faltered in their individual battles
and been defeated. Amazingly few fatalities occurred amongst out ranks, but there were innumerable
casualties to be dealt with. Popular opinion of course was that Harry had killed Voldemort and the
exertion of magical energy it had taken had driven him into a coma for much needed rest.

Everyone was so busy, Hogwarts was a scene of organised chaos, gossip of Voldemort's demise
spreading like wildfire. I had to get away from it all. I managed to slip mostly unnoticed up to
the Divination classroom to cry. It was the last place I thought anyone would look for me. I was
right about it being the last place, but that didn't stop Ron from eventually finding me.

Harry was being cared for in the Infirmary along with numerous injured students and teachers. I
doubt anyone else really noticed my absence. Ron found me exhausted from fighting and crying in the
far corner of the warm room. He came over, his usual awkwardness forgotten as he pulled me into a
tight hug. I started sobbing all over again, wanting him to understand why I was crying, but I
couldn't tell him. Even as he held me I felt a distance growing between me and my world. I was
lost to everything I knew, lost to all my friends.

Dumbledore was the only one who knew that I'd lost all my magical ability, he seems to know
everything that goes on inside the castle. I didn't tell anyone, but gradually it became known
to a few that it was not Harry who had defeated… killed Voldemort, but an unknown Muggle-born. Ron
tried to talk to me, but I just distanced myself further and further away from everyone. They tried
to let me be, turn their heads away from what was obvious, pretend that they didn't see how
this was destroying me, hoping I'd work it out.

I somehow managed to avoid situations that involved me doing magic, but such a charade can only
be upheld for so long before you slip up. I slipped up and I fell, and that sealed my decision that
there was no way for me to be redeemed in my own eyes whilst I stayed here.

Harry woke up and recovered, physically at least, not long after. Once I knew he was well I
packed a few things in a small bag and Dumbledore, knowing my plans, arranged a Ministry Taxi to
pick me up from just outside Hogsmeade two days later.

Harry walked with me to the edge of the village, not knowing what I was going to do. The taxi
pulled up, and I turned to face him. This I can recall with total accuracy. Every word, every
gesture. I told him I was leaving, that it was best for both of u. That I'd always love him,
but not to come looking for me. I explained that I was no longer a Witch, and I needed to discover
for myself what that meant for me. He pleaded and begged with me, saying it didn't matter, that
we'd live a Muggle life together. But I had made up my mind, and had prepared myself for
everything he would say.

“It breaks my heart to have to leave you Harry, but you need to learn who you are, and you need
to deal with what it means to be you. I've tried to let you live the life you want to be true,
but I can't anymore. You need to live life that way the *life* wants you to, and if that
includes pain and loss, then you need to find out why. There is lesson for you to learn, and you
can't avoid it anymore, and if I stay, then you'll be living a lie forever.”

I let go of his hand and got into the cab, trying not to let my tears flow until the driver
pulled away. I didn't need to look back to have the image of Harry staring after me imprinted
eternally on my memory.

I arrived at the airport without a clue where to go or what to do. I was terrified, I still am
terrified. I wanted to get as far away from Hogwarts and England as possible, that I knew, but an
exact location was harder to decide on. Fate decided to give me one final helping hand it seemed
though, and no sooner had I stepped into the overcrowded airport that a flustered young man in a
business suit rushed past me, before stopping and running back to me.

He was holding a ticket in his had and asked me if I needed a ticket to the states.

I told him that I actually didn't know where I was going yet. He grinned and told me that
his wife had just called him on his mobile and that she had just gone into labour with their first
child. He couldn't stop smiling. She apparently wasn't due for another two weeks, and if
she had called an hour later it would be to late for him to get back for the birth.

I said congratulations and he said thanks, then gave me his ticket! He said, and I quote,

“No point it going to waste. Its unnamed, I only got called on to fly out two days ago to
replace some guy who broke his leg skiing. Just make sure you raise a glass to Harry James Junior
on the flight!”

And with that, he ran out of the airport leaving me standing in shock holding a business class
plane ticket to Memphis, Tennessee. Hey, I can take a hint!

So here I am, on my way to a strange country with hardly any money, no Muggle qualifications,
nowhere to stay and all on my own. But I know I've made the right decision. Perhaps I'll
see Harry and Ron and all my friends again one day, but for now I'm actually excited about
starting a new life. To say it's scary is an understatement, but like I told Harry, you need to
live life the way life wants you to, and life wants me in Memphis. I hope life knows what its
doing!

According to the pilot as we land the weather in Memphis leaves much to be desired, and I can
see what he means. It's pouring with rain.

Great, so on top of everything I'm going to probably ruin my favourite blue suede shoes.

*

Reading those final pages now I can tell you that as I got on the at plane I had genuinely
thought that Harry might show up in some amorous gesture, catching me at the airport to say he
understood, that he loved me and say goodbye. I think I must have been reliving `The
Bodyguard'. The only thing missing from my daydream was Whitney Houston singing `I will always
love you' as the plane took off.

Its not a movie though, and Harry I didn't make peace until much later.

After I landed I walked into the streets of Memphis, glad I had brought an umbrella with me,
hoping to find somewhere to stay. It was early evening and the sun was still shining bright in a
clear blue sky. I wandered for a few hours and found a cheap motel where I could stay. Dumping my
stuff and taking only my old satchel out with me I went to find somewhere to eat. I didn't even
notice that I had my Hogwarts Head Girl badge pinned on it. I had taken it to Dumbledore when I
resigned my post, but he insisted I keep it, saying that no matter what, I was Hogwarts' Head
Girl.

Harry had given me a new book bag for my birthday, so this old one went forgotten to the bottom
of my trunk.

Still, if it hadn't been for that badge I would never have met Rev. Iason Green and
wouldn't be where I am today. Strange how things turn out really, the life I was escaping from
was the key to opening my new found freedom.

Tomorrow I leave to go back to my old world for the first time. It's Harry's funeral.
I've already said my goodbyes to him, but I owe it to my friends and family to show up. I
can't keep hiding forever, and now, finally, I think I'm ready to face them.

I don't plan on staying though. Maybe I'll come back here, maybe I`ll move on. Who knows
what the future has in store for me, I just hope that it'll be a surprise. Unexpected and
unstructured. I've had enough of destiny to last me a lifetime.

**Fallen**

Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I have held so dear.

I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I'm lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarrassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...
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