Disclaimer: The characters belong to the wonderful JK Rowling and when writing I was inspired by Lisa Appignanesi.
A/N: I posted this on the ADMM boards a little while back and whilst I still have access to this computer I thought y'all might like me to post it here. I don't know where it sprang from or why, and I certainly don't know if it works, but I would appreciate it if you would let me know.
Ne M'oubliez Pas
At the tender age of twelve I was a girl and Hogwarts was my world. Gryffindor. Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff. Slytherin. Transfiguration.
I was all of thirteen when he walked into my life. A disruption. The new professor with a whimsical air. A disturbance.
I was all of fourteen when he made me smile. A nuisance. Robes every colour of the rainbow. Appalling taste. Tartan matched his knobbly knees. Mouth twitched. Reluctance.
I was all of fifteen when he made me laugh. There once was a veela, a hag and a banshee…Merriment echoed through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Disgruntled tapestries. Decorum.
I was all of sixteen when he first stirred the butterflies. Hair the colour of new kindled fire. Candlelight. A bother. A delightful bother but a bother nonetheless.
I was all of seventeen when he opened my eyes. Gellert Grindelwald. Purebloods. Halfbloods. Muggles. The war had arrived. Bravery. Valour. Death. A terrifying recognition.
And I was all of eighteen when he said goodbye. Eyes the colour of forget-me-nots. I had my mark to set. The world beckoned. I did not fail to remember. I could not forget.
The seasons passed.
Welcome. I came back. Hogwarts. Heart. Home.
He may have found more wrinkles, but despite those hairs of grey, his eyes still held their disarming twinkle. What once was annoying I now found charming. Hope. Remembrance. I dared to look beneath those eyes and through to the soul. Butterflies.
He may have been more than thrice my age but I loved him.
I loved the effortlessness with which he roamed through the world. My world. I loved the thoroughness of consideration he fixed upon me, as if I were a match for all his accomplishments. I loved the way he made me seem interesting.
A witch whose veins pulsed with unbridled passion. Vulnerability.
I loved his intelligence and he soon realised.
I loved his devotion, the enticement of his quest for me. I even loved the flutter of his beard on his breath. Fuzz face.
A kiss, and all was said. On lovers' lips
He met the girl. Worked with the witch. Fell in love with the woman.
* * *
Happy New Year!