The Toy Soldier

“Lily!” he cried in his dreams. Over and over again.

The very reason he was sitting there, dying.

He heard footsteps approaching. If he had not been so terribly weak,he would have snorted at the irony of it all. Protecting Harry. It was never Harry – it was Lily. Every sacrifice, every risk and all those silent tears – for her.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture himself if things were to have ended up differently. He pictured her. She was holding his hand.

“James!” she laughed as she clutched his hand tighter.

He winced. No. It never would have changed. To her, it was always James.

He supposed this was destiny – in some sort of cruel, twisted way.

After all, he was merely a toy soldier.

For Dumbledore.

For the Dark Lord.

For the Order.

For the Death Eaters.

or perhaps he was simply just a vulnerable, insecure boy who just didn’t quite fit in.

Maybe that was just it. He was never a full but always a half.

The Half Blood Prince — how befitting.

The footsteps were getting louder – nearer. At this point, he couldn’t even tell the difference between dream and reality. When suddenly, the world was filled with darkness and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. A doe – glowing as bright as the moon, standing by the doorway, looking straight into his dark, cold eyes. His eyes softened at the sight of her magnificent patronus and he smiled – something that he swore he’d never do since the day she died.

Her clear voice filled the silent room.

“After all this time?”

His eyes never left hers.

“Always.”

And with that he followed her into the blinding light, greeting death as an old friend.

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