I don't own Harry Potter, and unless you're J.K Rowling, neither do you.

There was something strangely inviting about that veil. Quietly ushering me over, while it fluttered so mysteriously.

I was so overcome by curiosity and bewilderment. How could something so simple appear so eerie and yet, to a degree, romantic?

The flowing, black veil was anchored to an ancient stone arch with no support or visible keystone.

I felt an uncontrollable urge to go up to it; to touch it. But they pulled me away. And that was the last time I saw him.

He was like a father to me. He was all I had. He left and I wasn't ready to say goodbye. How many more people do I have to loose before they'll let me go? When will they realise that I'm suffocating and I want out? I'm alone with no one to turn to.

I feel a deep, void space inside. I don't know what to think. It doesn't seem like he's dead; just somewhere far away. Somewhere far beyond my reach. It's like we've been pulled apart; as if he's on the other side of that veil.

I can't let go of that memory. The red jet of light, that swaying veil, and the voices. I want to believe that, somehow, he'll come back. It's all I have left. It's all I can hold on to.