Maybe Tomorrow

It was twilight when he appeared seemingly out of nowhere; the time of day when time seems to stand still, the transition between day-time and night-time. His hooded cloak shrouded his face in shadow, and it rustled around his ankles as he approached, yet he was as silent as the sleepy village itself.

He rested his hand on the kissing-gate, to a stranger looking as if he was surveying the graveyard, but those who knew him well would have noticed the tell-tale look in his eyes and the way his grip tightened on the cold metal, indicating he was having second thoughts. He seemed to overcome them however, as he continued through the gate.

He took a systematic approach through the graveyard, unsure of where the grave he sought lay. Several times his heart leapt as he thought he had found the right one, but then turned out to be just a similar name. How strange he felt to have only gained the courage to seek her out now, after her tragic death. He had just turned to walk up another row, when he saw it. Polished white marble, engraved in a neat script. Compared to most of the other graves, it was very clean and well-kept, but as he reminded himself, of course it would be, He Who Must Not Be Named would still be powerful if it was not for her.

As he kneeled down in front of the headstone, a wave of memories overcame him. The way she threw her head back as she laughed; the way she used to always used to fall asleep in the library, curled up in one of the comfier chairs; the way she looked at the leavers party, with her red hair up in an elegant bun; the way she would blush whenever anyone mentioned that Potter boy. He stared down at the grave, dazed by the vividness of the memories.

To him, she had meant everything. But to her, he was nobody, just a boy who had never had the courage to tell her how he felt. What a great Gryffindor I would have been, he thought, as he remembered all the times he told himself he would finally confess to her, only to change his mind before he got too close. Maybe tomorrow, he told himself, over and over again. He let his mind wander for a moment, letting himself indulge in a day-dream where it was him she was laughing with, him she wanted to curl up next to, him that accompanied her to the ball, him that she had given her heart to.

A creaking sound indicated someone else had entered through the gate, pulling him out of his blissful fantasy. He stood up, wiping furiously at his face when he noticed the wetness. Unwilling to remain whilst a stranger was so close, he turned on his heel to leave. "I loved you," he whispered. His heart sped up as he finally spoke the words aloud.

As he passed through the gate, he told himself he will gather the courage to return, some day. Maybe even tomorrow, he thought.

He span on the spot, to disappear back to nothingness, never to return to the grave again.

I can't work out if I like this or not, but I haven't written in a while so I wanted to write something :)

Please review!