I don't own Harry Potter.


Green. A jade tented memory of something almost forgotten. Green like his eyes, the color of death wrought by evil. Even the screaming was green. The high pitched tone of his mother's voice as she begged for the life of her only child.

He hated the color green, it bore him only ill will, pain, and sorrow.


Gray. A smoke tented memory of death and fear. Gray like the color of Cedric's eyes and tombstone of Tom Riddle Sr. Gray like the mist that clung to the hem of Voldemort's robe. The screaming was his this time, trapped in a golden cage and washed gray by the pale moon.

He hated the color gray, it bore him only nightmares, grief, and regret.


Red. A blood tented memory of loss and shame. Red like the curse from a Death Eater's wand. Red like Voldemort's eyes as they looked out from his scull. Red like Phoenix fire. Lupin's screams this time, screaming to hold Harry back.

He hated the color red, it bore him only heartache, despair, and anger.


Black. A death tented memory of betrayal. Black like Snape's eye, hair, and robes. Black like the night. Black like murky waters of the god-forsaken lake. Black like the storm ravaged sea on that unknown coast. The screams were silent then, only heard in Harry's head as he watched Dumbledore fall.

He hated the color black, it bore him only…


What color would he hate next? Who else would pay the price of that unwanted prophecy?

Harry closed his eyes. He didn't want to see or hear what came next. He thought that once it was over he would curse himself blind, for even the rainbow might bring him pain.