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Date Posted: 20:44:21 03/16/02 Sat
Author: Harry Potter
Subject: It seems even the truth is mendacious.
In reply to: Ron Weasley 's message, "-Only When You Look For It Does the Truth Surface-" on 19:52:06 03/16/02 Sat

The maelstrom that had been encroaching upon his swimming mind fully ascends as he follows his thin familiar's cedar colored gaze towards the castle. The moment seems very unreal, and as cliched as it is, the tousel haired boy feels as if this is one prolonged, loathed nightmare that they will all soon awaken from. Reality tells him that this quixotic fantasy of his, that it is all just a thing his mind conceived in his sleep, holds as much truth as a blackened lie does.

A painful pang of irresolute sympathy for his vermilion topped cohort multiples within him as he queries so listlessly. His pate inclines towards his chest and pale digits trail through mussed, ebony locks as he responds. "Yes, Ron. You're alive. Thankfully." He surpresses the tremendously overwhelming itch to exhale because he knows things can never be the same. Instead of being disheartening, he does the opposite by offering the freckled friend a weakened smile.

He sincerely wishes there was something he could do to ease the ache of denial inside the friend that has managed to put up with all of his quirks for nearly five years now. He silently swallows a lump in his throat, in debate of awakening the logical side of his grieving friend and merely going along with the idea of Fred being extant as not to upset him. An undilutedly sad, dreary sort of look onsets upon his visage of pallor, and he murmurs, barely audibly. "Ron... they're upset as we are about all of this." What pain it brings him to pronounce the words. Fred is gone, and Harry knows this fact well, yet Ron's kinship inspired love for his brother prevents him from believing the obvious. The things a human being can do to another human being never cease to amaze the Boy Who Lived.


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