Till Death Do Us Part

It was dark where I was. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. It was suffocating, terrifying, too much. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to move, tried to struggle, tried to scream, but nothing happened. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t feel my eyes moving or my chest breathing or my hands clenching.






I was back. It was still dark, I still couldn’t move and I was alone. I began to panic, trying to scream, trying to claw at my throat, trying to feel. Just when I thought I was going to explode-

Everything



I opened my eyes to nothing again. At least, that’s what I assumed I was doing. I kept returning to this place, this place of nothingness. This time was different. I didn’t panic. I didn’t do anything. I just sat, or stood-I wasn’t quite sure what-and thought.

I hadn’t had anytime to think by myself since I could remember.



I thought a lot about a boy with glasses. He has circle glasses and such vibrant green eyes. His eyes, the more I thought about them, the less panicky I was. They were green with flecks of gold and they were comforting. They were understanding. They were loving.



There was a girl and a boy. Bushy brown hair for the girl and vibrant red for the boy. They stood together and watched me. I couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t tell what they were feeling, but they were watching me. It unnerved me, made me want to cry. I didn’t know why they were looking at me, but I did know one thing.





I did something to him. I did something horrible to the boy with glasses. I assume that because I feel a sense of dread when I think of his eyes. I feel guilt, so much guilt and sadness and pain. His understanding, loving eyes always turn hard and unforgiving.



I can feel again.



What did I do what did I do what did I do what did I do-

I can’t remember.

Why is his gaze so haunting, so tragic, so broken?





I can see him now. All of him.



Glasses in front of green eyes. Messy dark hair that covers his head. Calloused hands, a firm jaw, and chapped lips. Strong shoulders, muscled arms, two legs. I can see all of him.

I want nothing but to feel his hands in mine.



He’s fading. The boy, he’s fading, where is he going?

No. Don’t go.

Stay.

Please.





He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.

Where did he go, where did he go, where did he go, where did Harry go, where did he go, where did he-?



The scar, the lightening scar, and his eyes. His eyes, so haunting, so sad, so broken-

I remember.





I’m screaming.

I can finally hear, and all I can hear is screaming.

From my own throat. It hurts, it hurts so bad.

I betrayed him. Everything’s coming back now, and it’s all too much. All of the killing, the hurt, the lies, the everything. The blackness, it’s suffocating me. The memories, they’re too much. I want to die.





I opened my eyes. This time, I could see. Everything was blurry, it was too bright, but I could see.

I close my eyes again.



“Fidelity.”

A voice. Someone’s voice. A female? Possibly.

I open my eyes.

“There you are.”

I blink, my tired eyes wanting to close, to close forever and I open my mouth and my throat hurts but I have to say his name, I have to say-

“H-Harry.”

I close my eyes.



“-she woke up for a few seconds before falling asleep again-”

“Did she say anything?”

“Well, no, not really, only-well, she did say-”

“What? What did she say?”

“She said,” Pause. “-she said your name.”

Everything turned off.



“How is she?”

“She’s doing better, but please, no visitors-”

“I’m sure you’ll find I have every right to be here. You may go.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A visitor.

Where was I?

My eyes open and a light groan escapes my lips, hurting my throat. Everything is blurry and slowly it all comes into focus. I blink rapidly, another groan making it’s way up my throat.

“Fidelity.”

A voice. It was stern, kind, familiar. I blink once more and my lips part in surprise when I see Professor McGonagall’s face. The wall behind her head was a mint green. I was laying down and judging by the blankets around me and the pillows under me, it was a bed. I look up to Professor McGonagall’s face once more and I speak.

“Where am I?”

“St. Mungo’s hospital dear.”

St. Mungo’s. Hospital.

I was in the hospital.

“Do you remember anything?”

Of course I did.



“Yes.” I whispered. She nodded.

“Fidelity, there’s something-”

“Professor?”

She stopped and looked me, a little surprised.

“Can you do something for me?”

I looked up at her and our eyes met. There was a moment of silence before she nodded.

“Of course.”



It had been a week.

It had been a week since I’ve been awake. A week since Professor McGonagall had visited. A week since I gave her my memories. A week since she promised she’d get them to Harry.

It had been a week.



I had given up. It had been two weeks. Two weeks with nothing but nurses bustling in and out. Two weeks of tears, two weeks or regrets, two weeks of pain. McGonagall had informed me that I had a hearing in front of what was left of the Ministry of Magic. They would tell me if I was to be set free or spend the rest of my life in prison.



McGonagall had told me since I was forced to do his bidding and because I was so young, my chances of being set free were high. But I didn’t care.

If Harry still couldn’t forgive me after he knew everything, there was no point. I couldn't blame him, no, because he didn't deserve me or what I did. I wouldn't forgive me.



No one else would forgive me either, but they didn’t matter. No one else mattered but him.



I was laying in my bed with my eyes closed. Thoughts of Harry and everything I did to him plagued my mind and I took deep breaths. I was beginning to feel another headache coming on when my door opened softly and-

“Fidelity?”

I opened my eyes and gasped.