Memory

*peeks around a mountain of papers and books before smiling sheepishly at readers* I don't know where it came from but here's another one. Please read my note at the bottom. *dives back into notes and exam study guides*

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I'm so very tired now. Tired of running, of hiding, of having to watch my back constantly. It's been 10 years, can't they just leave me be? I fought for them. I gave my life for them. What did I get in return? They hound me day after day, hour after hour. Unending questions and trials. Reporters skewing the facts to sell papers. Ministry officials using me to set an example.

It's cold out tonight. The pain in my bones making me feel every one of my years and then some. My carboard box under this bridge barely making a difference in this howling gale.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when I would be tucked up safe and warm in a big four poster bed with my husband. He died in that last battle. Our bed and the building that housed it were destroyed that same night. All fought bravely that night and both sides were riddled with loses.

My death started long before. It started with my birth. I find it funny that the only desease that will kill us for certain is life. Actually I was dieing faster than life would have dictated. I was born with a genetic defect. It would have killed my father too if he had lived longer. What is it? Magic.

I'm a wizard for crying out loud and it's my magic that will kill me. Apparently my father's family has a history of every male having a weak immune system and due to some genetic mutation, our magic begins to attack our body once we reach a certain age. We cannot fight off the attack. I've lasted longer than any other male in my family because magically and physically, I am the strongest to date. My luck always has been unpredictable. I lasted longer before the symptoms hit but it came at a higher price. I'm dieing faster.

My friends track me down every once in a while and haul me to Scotland. They clean me up, stuff me with food, and tuck me in to a big feather, four poster. Ever time I sneak out in the middle of the night and make my way back to my bridge and my carboard box. They try to convince me that I'm back at Hogwarts but I know it's not right. I spent enough time in the school to know the feel of it's magick, the grit in it's mortar, and the way the stones in the Great Hall reflected the light in a pattern of the schools Coat of Arms when the sun struck them in a specific way. This new castle may have looked like my beloved home, but it wasn't the same.

I think I'm going crazy. I can't really think straight anymore. Some of my old schoolmates would question if I could think in the first place let alone straight. Others would ask if I had ever been sane.

I lay here in my box rubbing my hands trying to ease the ache as the winds pick up. As lightening flashes throught the sky I begin to notice that the pain, which seems to be my only constant companion, is starting to fade. It is at this moment I know, I will not live out this night.

By tomorrow morning, my soul will have joined my loved ones who have gone before me. Within a week, my vaults full of gold and all my properties will be given to the ones I have considered friends.

I close my eyes and pull a pale blue rag about my shoulders. I'm glad Ron and Hermione are coming tomorrow, I could use a bath. I want to be clean when I see my husband.

I want to be just the way he remembers me when I see My Sev'rus.

Another bolt of lightening flashes throught the sky glinting off golden threads sown into what was once a pale blue baby blanket and off of the more recent silver addition.

HJP-S

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An: I have no excuse for this except that finals are next week and this wouldn't leave my head.

I've just noticed that I write a great deal of character death one-shots. I think it's time to go back on my meds.

On a side note, I have the 37th version of chapter 4 of FT half written. The previous attempts sucked worse than a new vaccuum. I'm also contemplating (big word bonus) another story that has Gregory Goyle as the main character. The main difference here would be that it's about Goyle, he get's laid, he's not stupid, his girlfriend/fiancee isn't dumb or ugly, his girlfriend/fiancee is a big help to the war effort, the Slytherins aren't evil, and it's gonna be one long chapter.

Again please no killing and/or maiming of the author. The voices in her head are very loud and mean.

~Charli a.k.a. Madness