The Aftermath of a Broken Heart

Mara Jade Potter

Rating: G
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 05/02/2005
Last Updated: 05/02/2005
Status: completed

Edited version!A short one-shot about a broken heart, with a little bit of bittersweet hope at the end. Please, I would love feedback on my one-shots.Read and review... If you've ever been in love,it will touch you, I promise.

Chapters

1. Broken

1. Broken

A/N: The edited version. Hope you like it. Please, please, PLEASE review.

The Aftermath of a Broken Heart

The flickering glow of the fire cast shadows of contorted images upon the walls, eerily fitting to the mood he was in. It was a sober atmosphere, harboring some uncanny power over his thoughts, which begged to turn away from the subject that was most achingly close to his heart right now. And despite the blaze, there was not enough heat in the world to warm his chilled reflections.

He was like a shadow himself; distorted, dark, and twisted without the luminescence of her glory.The bitter recognition of all his own failings was almost too much to bear.He watched the flames dance higher and blaze brighter, devouring the oxygen in the room. They were the intense memories he had entombed himself with, suffocating him slowly. Like those dreams that everyone has, of falling and falling, yet never landing anywhere...it was as if those dreams had manifested themselves into his life. Only in this case, in his forever unlucky case, there was that final sensation of crashing to rock bottom.

The whiskey did nothing to sooth his wounded pride, his aching heart, and his incomplete soul.For how could alcohol purge someone that was in your very blood, in your spirit, in your body--someone who is as much a part of you as you yourself are?
All that he could think of was her eyes. Those velvety dark eyes that seemed to cut through him to the very core of his being. He had never understood the concept of love at first sight, until he peered into those wondrous eyes and realized he never wanted to live without them.

But that was long ago, so long ago. He could scarcely remember all the trials they went through to be together...how their love for one another had strengthened them. They had been lost in a fantasy world where the only thing that mattered was each other and their all-consuming passion. Who would have thought it would ever end?

Yet ended it had. Like all good things, like anything pure that had ever entered his life.And it was all such a blur, such a mass of confusion that he wasn't sure if he could ever sort it out in his own mind.Like the fire now before him, slowly dimming until it died. That had been their relationship. He knew he was partly to blame. And on evenings such as this, when the loss of her ate away at his soul, he pretended that if he had been different,she might still be here by his side. But you can only lie to yourself for so long, and deep down, he knew the truth.

That some things just aren't meant to be. However cliche and utterly unromantic, it was true nevertheless. And even on nights like tonight, when his tears flowed unchecked and he cried out audibly at the hole in his heart, he knew. Even on nights like tonight, when he was haunted by her smell, tortured by her smile, and the echoes of her laughter filled his head, he knew.She was there, reading his mind, holding him close, kissing him gently...but he knew.Even on nights like tonight, he just knew that you couldn't hold onto the past forever.

Which was why he awoke every morning with a little less pain in his eyes, a little less agony in his face. He faced every day with a little more composure and a little more hope. And he shut himself up every evening with a little less whiskey and a few less remembrances of her.

He knew that someday, someday , he would awake to find his old self staring back in the mirror. And he would quietly pack up all memories of her into a box, to be hidden away in the deepest recesses of his closet.Because when he was an old man, and nothing remained in front of him, he could pull out that dusty old treasure trove and smile. Nothing of the pain would remain then, but merely the memories of a lifetime she had helped him create.

And so, with all of this in mind, he emptied his glass stoically. And rising from his chair, he paused at the window and uttered words that he only hoped he would mean someday.

"Good-bye."