& He was Forever Cold

The cold. It can be beautiful and it can be horrible. The cold can bring with it, the joy, of that season, of that gap of time. Sometimes, the sold can make everything wonderful, but it can also double the pain. The pain of someone punching you is somehow magnified, intensified. A slap across the face can seem so much more bitter than usual. They had been in the courtyard, alone, fighting for what would be the last time. His anger had been rising, mounting until he couldn't bear it anymore. He yelled at her, so mush louder than he ever had, and those words left his lips for the second time, ''You are nothing but a filthy Mud-blood!'' His blood was boiling, how could she ever understand him? And then it came. Her emerald eyes flashed, behind them, a hint of a tear, and she stepped forward and slapped him. It stung his face with white-hot pain as she turned, fighting back those same tears and the snow began to fall. He could see her red mane disappear behind the door to the Entrance Hall. He had been angry and not meant what he said. A single tear ran down his pale cheek.
Nearly 3 years later, he heard. It was November and he could see rain coming in the clouds as he gazed out the window. An opened letter lay on the table behind him, but he didn't need to read it. He already knew what had happened. Now that it had actually happened, it felt like that same slap in the face she had given him that day at Christmas-time. Only something was different. With the one before, the pain had lasted only a few minutes, but this time, the pain was still there, but it had moved down to his chest. His heart ached, now that the one ha loved was gone. He looked up to the stormy sky. ''I'm sorry, Lily. For everything. None of this should have happened. I love you, and I always will.'' He was determined, now, to avenge her in any way possible. It was the least he could do for the only one he could ever love.