Hello,

First H.P. fanfic, its angsty

However, I do hope that you wont be disappointed, reviews are VERY welcome.

Disclaimer: I dont own Harry Potter. Or any of its characters

I waited

Everyday, I walk to the train station to wait for the eight oclock train to arrive.

When the train stops at the platform, I scan for you, hoping that this time Id be able to find you, glimpse you, see you.

You never come.

So I wait for the nine oclock train.

And the ten oclock train.

And the eleven oclock train.

But still, you never get off.

So I wait one more hour, for the twelve oclock train.

Each time, when the train comes to a halt, I cannot see you step down onto the platform; I cant find your hazel eyes, or your mop of unruly, gravity-defying hair.

Everyday, I hope with all my heart that youll come home, and just in case you arrive after Ive left the station, I always stick a small note for you on the stations only noticeboard.

Please, come home. Im waiting for you. You know where to go. I love you.

Dearest, Ive waited many days, many months, many years for you. Hoping that one day, Id be rewarded, that youd step onto the platform, and that I would be able to run into your warm embrace. Like you did before you left.

So that Id be able to feel your arms slide protectively around my waist, holding me tightly, yet carefully, as if I was made from glass. You make me feel protected, and I dont know what I did to deserve you. You are my courage; your very image represents my fire. And I cant really live without you. We fit together like yin and yang.

So everyday I wait at the platform for my counterpart to come back to me.

But he never comes.

********************

That day, when a James I did not know stepped onto the platform, eyes devoid of any emotion, sapped of any life, which lacked everything that remotely resembled the James that had left; I knew that this was not the man I loved. When he came to me, and merely held out his hand, I knew that this James was not my James. And that night, when I slept in the same bed with a man I could not recognise, I vowed that Id return to the station everyday, to wait for the big-hearted, warm man who was the husband that had left me for the war, and for his country, promising that hed return one day. My husband is not the stoic and cold man who came back; he is not the one who I have been waiting for. James is not the man who returned.

The sparkle which had always been present in your eye has disappeared, has it been washed out by bloodshed, and death, or are you just not the many you were once before?

Why are you so cold? Do you not love me anymore? Has war changed youre mind? Have I done anything to change your mind?

The James I knew died in the war.

In my mind, I knew that he wouldnt come back the same, yet, in my heart, I also knew that he wouldnt have changed too much from who he was. That was what had gotten me through the days of his absence. That became my strength when I waited for him, when I hoped that hed come back alive.

That is what keeps me from going insane.

The James that did come back, well, he left a short while afterward. He left, saying he did not want to stay in a place which held so many memories, even if they were good ones. He said that he didnt recognise this place, hed been away too long, he wanted to go and travel.

But when he told me what he wanted to do, I did not want to accompany him, I did not want to travel the world. By that time, I had begun to wilt, like a flower, after it blossoms in spring; it begins to wilt in the autumn, and dies by winter.

Inside, I knew that he did not recognise me, that he didnt want to stay with me. The James I knew would not have minded what I looked like, whether I was beautiful or ugly, fat or thin. James wouldve loved me the same. This Jamesoh, it pains my heart to say, butthis James was unnatural.

I did not understand how war can change so much. All I knew was that my once fiery red hair had begun to grey, I had a few wrinkles, and that I was not as energized as I used to be. I did not want to travel, no; I did not want to move around. I wanted a life, a family, children. No.

As I said, James, he left me. Soon after I had told him what I wanted.

And everyday since, I have waited at the train station for the James I loved and knew to come home.

Yet, somehow, even after all those years of waiting, waiting for everything, waiting has never sounded like something worth doing. Life wont wait for you, time wont wait for you, death certainly will not wait for you.

James. Last night, I knew that I could not wait for you to come home any longer.

James, yesterday I checked my calendar, yesterday was the day when I started to wait for you.

Yesterday, I realised that I have been waiting for you for five decades.

And all of it has been in vain.

I can not wait for you here any longer. I can no bear the pain of knowing that no matter how much I pray, and no matter how much I wish or hope that you wont be coming back.

That youve died in the war.

That the strong loving man I know no longer exists on the face of earth.

So James, today, I waited for you. One last time.

I arrived at the train station to wait for the eight oclock train.

I knew you wont be coming.

So I wait for the nine oclock one,

And the ten oclock one,

And the eleven oclock one.

And I know that I wont ever see your hazel eyes or your mop of unruly, gravity-defying hair again.

So I wait one more hour, for the twelve oclock train.

And I know that this time, when the train stops, Ill be getting on.

Today, I wrote my last little note for you, and stuck it on the notice board of the station.

Dearest, I can not wait here any longer. I wont be coming back. I know that youre waiting somewhere else for me, and Im coming. Just wait a little longer, hold on a little longer. Im on the train now; Ill see you in a little while. Im coming. I love you. Wait for me. Im coming.

And I closed my eyes and got onto the train.
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And that is the end of my first Harry Potter story!!

I hope you liked it! (It was not too angsty, was it?)

Please drop a little review, or comment, and thanks again for reading!

-- Bitter-Sweet Teardrops