A/N: Yes, another short fanfic. I never do tire of these, even if it takes longer to set-up for publishing than it does to type it. Rate and review!
Disclaimer: Oh, yeah, because J.K. Rowling sits around writing slashes of her own books in her spare time. And not only that, but she publishes them on Fanfiction. And then, she begs people to review because she thinks her writing is horrible. Yup, that's just what she does on a typically in the wee hours of Monday morn.
These Tears You Cry
All you do is cry tears which are not for me. It pains me so. I open my mouth to say something, but years of Father's work have left a mark.
"Hey, Potter, crying over Weasel-Bee?" You look up with those emerald orbs to meet me with a fury. I don't recognize it in those eyes. There's fear and strife and pain right to the very core of your being. All I want to do is hold you tightly. But I can't.
"She was never worth anything – blood traitor." Those words aren't true. I know that she was braver than I ever would be, and died a hero's death in your arms. Your hand grips for your wand. An animal snarl contorts your face. My relentless mouth remains in scowl though I die to ask why you would never love me. It's not like I don't know the answer.
"I'm glad Father did it." You howl your loneliness and torment of a broken world to me like a wolf would to a moon as your wand points at me with deadly aim. I need you. My eyes see nothing but the pain that lightning bolt has cost you. And I cry in pain with you.
Those two words. The curse. A green light the color of your eyes streaks toward me. Time slows. I don't move, but finally manage to smile. Before it hits, I find myself finally saying it. "I love you."