The Promise

I slowly maneuvered my way around the misty grave yard. The early morning dew rose as the orange rays of sun light shone through the trees. It was an early October morning and my favorite time of day to visit the great number of people who had left me over the past years.

My mother and father were always first. I picked a lily from the bouquet I held and placed it on their grave. I continued through the sea of familiar names and stopped in front of well kept grave littered with flowers. I added my lily to the multiple others obviously placed their by the enormous Weasley family. Ron’s death was very hard for them, along with me, and they never failed to visit his grave weekly. Finally, my destination peered over the hill.

A large, yet humble grave stood in front of me. Turning my eyes towards the sky I looked up to see the angel erected peacefully at the top. She was beautiful. She had flowing, curly hair and held her head up high with prestige. She was elegant and captivating and --- I bowed my head. It was not the angel I was thinking about, but the one whom she guarded, my angel.

Placing the lilies I carried on the grave, I read the inscription and stopped for a moment of prayer before heading home.

How fast the days of my youth have pasted. I am no longer in my prime and at the age of 145 I know my time here will end soon. Most people are distraught over death but I look forward to being reunited with my friends and family. Things that once seemed easy for me now are overbearing exertions.

So as I turn the knob leading to my house I can only think of two things that will bring relief, my chair and the leather bound book sitting next to it, waiting to be filled. The chair seems miles away but I know there is one last thing that needs to be done. So I shuffle slowly barley lifting my old, weary feet and sit.

With tender hands I pick up the book and dipping my quill in ink begin to write letting the bitter sweet memories of my love fill my head and over take me...

The day we split up runs over and over in my head. I wanted to travel and see the world, a luxury that I was denied as a boy. She wanted to settle down, start a family of our own. After the losses of the great war against Voldemort, who wouldn't want a bit of sanity? Me, that's who. Me, the great Harry Potter who has never lead a normal life. I wasn't afraid of the commitment I just wasn't ready.

So as we stood at Kings crossing for the last time of our Hogwarts career I kissed her good-bye and we parted.

And now here I am now, alone. A dying wizard who has now charm or potion to cure loneliness. While the world already knows me as a hero I have one last, deed... a promise if you will. With that, I give you the story of my life, or more so the story of my love; Hermione Granger.