Egg Plant (A Harry Potter Fan-fiction)

Is he, though?

(Harry's POV, 1st person)

I was running, fast with no sense of direction. I didn't look back once; I couldn't. I'd never run before. From anything. This wasn't like me. I can't understand how that one man can get to me so much, to make everything I had come to believe in, to have faith in, crumble within just one meeting. A meeting I wish had never happened. How I long to be able to turn back time, to never have met him: at all, if I can help it. But I can't. I had learnt long ago - the hard way - there's not always a magical cure for life's problems. Heck, sometimes there just isn't one at all.

As much as I had convinced myself, as much as I had believed in the happy life I had made for myself, I have always had doubts. The little pessimistic voice in the back of my mind that had been implanted in me from such a young age: that had once kept me from getting my hopes up, a survival instinct; was ever present. After the war was finally over, I had tried to ignore it - to banish it from my mind - and I had almost succeeded. Until now. Until I met my Uncle once again in the car park. Until I had heard every insult, every put-down from my uncle's mouth dance around in my mind, making my head spin.

I had tried not to listen, to walk away, to ignore it, to counteract the darkness that was threatening to consume me with feeble, positive thoughts and reassurances. But even the old mantra, which had once brought me comfort, had kept me together through my uncle's rants, had failed. I had crumbled, and I had ran.

The rain lashed down around me as I slowed to a walk, breathing heavily. I didn't stop, though. I didn't dare stop moving, for fear of sinking to the rain-soaked ground in sheer exhaustion: mentally, physically, emotionally. I don't want to go home. Ginny would want to know where I've been. What am I to tell her? That I had run away like a little child? Not just from my Uncle, but from my fears, my doubts. From the truth. I had not been able to take it, to believe it, to think for a second that my Uncle could be right and yet I cannot stop myself. The so-called 'lies' pouring from my uncle's mouth had become my genuine beliefs once more, replacing all thoughts of happiness, suppressing them.

Every memory that I could summon up to prove myself that my family loves me seems so fake now. I don't want to go home and see, as I know I would, just that. The truth through the facade. I do not want to see the pity in their eyes that I had once mistaken for love. I do not want to see the cold fury in my wife's eyes when I open the door, when she finds out that I have ruined yet another thing in her life. Perhaps if I had tried harder, if I had just been better. If I had spent more time with her, paid more attention to her needs - to my family's needs. To me nothing is more important.

How could I have failed so miserably? When was the last time I have gone to see my own sons play Quidditch? I had promised James to see his very first game, and where had I been? Stuck in a staff meeting. A stupid, pointless meeting. Had that meeting be worth the look of utter betrayal in my son's eyes? The disappointment? I had known even then that no matter how many games I was to see since, it will never change anything. The betrayal still lingered between us. I had let him down, and feelings like that didn't just go away. I have let all of them down. Ginny, James, Albus, Lily, Teddy… Oh Teddy! When was the last time I saw my Godson?

Come to think of it, when was the last time I've visited any of my friends? To even stop by and say hi? I'm always so wrapped up in work. In meetings, paperwork, raids, missions that could last from a day to a month. Do my kids resent me for spending so little time with them? Or perhaps… where they glad? Were they relieved when I had left? Every time I leave for work does Ginny feel freer? I don't know. I'm so confused. I can't tell whether I should try to spend more time with my family or leave them all together. I felt hot tears sting in the corner of my eyes. Would they be better off? Would they miss me? Do they miss me? Have they even noticed I've gone?