Note: I'm having trouble figuring out how to format everything the way I want it...bear with me...

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

"You are my everything,"

I whisper, too late. The door

closes in my face, and she,

She is gone. And now, now

I understand why they call it

Heartbreak, because as my throat

constricts and my lungs

seize up so that I cannot breathe,

my chest begins to feel as if

an overlarge hippogriff is

standing upon it, and I feel this

sharp, dagger-like pain that

I know is my heart tearing apart,

and I wonder if the

now-mangled muscle still beats.

It must, since I am still here,

staring unseeingly at the door

before me. Unless I have died, and

this, this is Hell: staring, staring

at the door that will never again

open, for all eternity, and I,

I am lost.