She watches at her sisters wedding, standing with her husband, and feels so alone. One shot

The War is raging and it hurts, but then she meets him by the bridge and all can be forgotten until sunrise.

Suddenly you are one of them. A butterfly in the storm. Reality blurred by coloured wings and in his eyes you see his death.

The ages pass and still it sits, silently witnessing the hard work of so many of Hogwarts’ finest. From Rowena Ravenclaw to Hermione Granger.

She sees things in the water. Sitting at night to watch them surface. She sees laughing children, the sobbing aged… She sees fire and ice, dragons and ghosts… But most frequently, she sees him.

Black. To the core. Righteous little boy, so certain he can escape what runs within his very blood. Foolish child, you can’t twist who you are.

Two souls lost. A vague expression of my boredom. Short and sweet...

He knows this world...more than that. He commands it. Words grabbing the attention of those around him, his very name demanding respect. She observes.

Dreams were made here, beneath the high ceiling, within these walls. And dreams were broken.