This Is Falling
The sky was open and blue. It was very like his eyes if you looked toward the horizon - darker than the openness. He still wasn't used to it - he had never liked them the way they were, but they had been a part of him.
It was just a charm, an illusion - Mad-Eye Moody could see through it, as could the Mirror of Erised and any other magical items. Dumbledore had said there were better ways to hide than hiding. Whatever that meant. But that had been before the attacks on Gryffindor Tower, before…now the Headmaster agreed that there was no other way, and actually sent him away, because…but still he held to his previous words.
He pushed the thoughts away, but it was impossible to ignore the gnawing pit of night inside him. His hair might be straight and short and brown, his eyes might be blue, every sign of him might be gone that would have identified him, but he was still the same person, and he had the same duties.
He had to save them.
Now the tide was impossible to hold back. It wasn't only his best friend, the person he would miss most. Even if he had never actually told him that straight out, they both knew it. It was also Colin and Dennis, and Charlie, and Seamus and Neville, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown…all had been taken by the Dark Lord. There had been a time when he had said the name freely, and a time when he refused. Now he refused.
Hermione was fine. Ginny was fine. The rest of the Weasley family - the family he had once been able to call his own - were fine. Sirius and Lupin were fine. Dumbledore and the staff of Hogwarts…most were still alive, none were 'fine'. He himself was fine, although seperated from his school here, forbidden to return, forbidden to leave this place. He loved the school, and he was not quite done with sixth year. Then, he wasn't missing anything - the school was all but abandoned by the students. A few stayed to aid the Resistance. Some had surprised him - as many Slytherins had stayed as any other House. Some had outright amazed him. Draco Malfoy, for one. Goyle had also - and of course he had, until he had been sent away.
What was it the Headmaster had said? "I know you care about him, but we're doing all we can. The danger to yourself is too great." It hadn't sounded like him. It hadn't been the wise, well thought-out Headmaster he knew. It had been a saddened and old Dumbledore, twinkle gone from his eyes, scar crossing his face from the attacks.
He had gotten to know Goyle some - he wasn't as stupid as he had always seemed, really, just slow, and rather timid, but quite ambitious. He hated his parents and the Dark Lord. When he wasn't around Malfoy, he was quite amiable.
He stared at a cloud shaped like a bolt of lightning as it slowly crossed the sky, and vowed to save Harry.
He was a Weasley, and a Gryffindor. He was not afraid.
The sky was open and blue. It was very like his eyes if you looked toward the horizon - darker than the openness. He still wasn't used to it - he had never liked them the way they were, but they had been a part of him.
It was just a charm, an illusion - Mad-Eye Moody could see through it, as could the Mirror of Erised and any other magical items. Dumbledore had said there were better ways to hide than hiding. Whatever that meant. But that had been before the attacks on Gryffindor Tower, before…now the Headmaster agreed that there was no other way, and actually sent him away, because…but still he held to his previous words.
He pushed the thoughts away, but it was impossible to ignore the gnawing pit of night inside him. His hair might be straight and short and brown, his eyes might be blue, every sign of him might be gone that would have identified him, but he was still the same person, and he had the same duties.
He had to save them.
Now the tide was impossible to hold back. It wasn't only his best friend, the person he would miss most. Even if he had never actually told him that straight out, they both knew it. It was also Colin and Dennis, and Charlie, and Seamus and Neville, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown…all had been taken by the Dark Lord. There had been a time when he had said the name freely, and a time when he refused. Now he refused.
Hermione was fine. Ginny was fine. The rest of the Weasley family - the family he had once been able to call his own - were fine. Sirius and Lupin were fine. Dumbledore and the staff of Hogwarts…most were still alive, none were 'fine'. He himself was fine, although seperated from his school here, forbidden to return, forbidden to leave this place. He loved the school, and he was not quite done with sixth year. Then, he wasn't missing anything - the school was all but abandoned by the students. A few stayed to aid the Resistance. Some had surprised him - as many Slytherins had stayed as any other House. Some had outright amazed him. Draco Malfoy, for one. Goyle had also - and of course he had, until he had been sent away.
What was it the Headmaster had said? "I know you care about him, but we're doing all we can. The danger to yourself is too great." It hadn't sounded like him. It hadn't been the wise, well thought-out Headmaster he knew. It had been a saddened and old Dumbledore, twinkle gone from his eyes, scar crossing his face from the attacks.
He had gotten to know Goyle some - he wasn't as stupid as he had always seemed, really, just slow, and rather timid, but quite ambitious. He hated his parents and the Dark Lord. When he wasn't around Malfoy, he was quite amiable.
He stared at a cloud shaped like a bolt of lightning as it slowly crossed the sky, and vowed to save Harry.
He was a Weasley, and a Gryffindor. He was not afraid.