Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.
Warnings: Slight Language
Is there really any difference between the two?
I never really thought so. My heart is aching, breaking.
Please, help me! Please, I beg you!
Why won't you let me stay? Why can't I stay?
You just look at me with those twinkling eyes and say, "I'm sorry, my boy."
Like you're actually sorry about it. I know that you're not. Just go ahead and twist the knife in my back a bit more.
"But you cannot remain at Hogwarts during the summer. You cannot go with your friends either. You must return home."
But this is my home, more than that place has ever been. My family is here, not there… with those people.
And why can't I go with my friends?
They said that I can come with them. They want me to go with them. So why can't I?
I want to ask; I try to ask. I open my mouth to do so, but you cut me off.
"Sorry." You smile at me like you haven't a care in the world.
You and those damnable and forsaken twinkling eyes just stare at me. "Now, carry on. I'm sure you have more important things to do than dawdle with an old man such as myself."
And you all but throw me out the door.
You were my last chance. You were my salvation. Everyone else said no, but I thought that you might help me. I thought that I actually meant something to you.
I guess I was wrong.
I return to my dorm and throw myself on my bed, trying not to cry. What the hell I am supposed to do now?
I can't go back. I won't go back… but they're making me.
Why? Why can't I stay?
I hear the door open, and someone step inside.
"So," he asks, "how did it go?" Deep blue eyes look at me with mounting hope.
Hope that I fear I will have to crush.
"Dumbledore said that I can't stay--"
"Oh," he interrupts me. "Can you come home with me then? Mum would love it if you did. You know how she always goes on about you being her 'good as' son. And I'm sure that Dad would love to ask you all about Muggles. And then, there're my brothers…"
I merely sigh, fighting tears. I roll over onto my stomach and press my face into my pillow.
"I have to go back." It comes out in a muffled whisper.
"Come again?" he asks imploringly.
I lift my head from my pillow. "I can't go with you either. I have to go back… go there." I all but spit out the words.
He sighs and sits beside me on my bed. He claps his hand on my shoulder in what would normally be a reassuring manner.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "We can still write, you know." He grins at me gently.
I attempt to smile back, but I can't pull it off.
"Yes, we can do that." I close my eyes but can still feel tears prickling behind my eyelids.
He squeezes my shoulder. "Cheer up, and don't worry, Tom. I'm sure it won't be so bad."
Tears drop from my face onto my pillow.
If only he knew…