Pride Tears | Dean Thomas

01

why don't you cry?

   Dean walked, and walked. They were the same walls he had seen for the past seven years. Yet, they felt different.

Why he had come back? Did he really wanted to finish his studies, or it was just an excuse to avoid the world around him? To ignore the whispers that the Wizard Society held deep within, even if the war was over. He missed her mother, her warm embrace, her cooking... It was safe now, right? He could go with her mother, he could forget about all of this. About being a wizard, about magic.

A dry laugh escaped his lips.

Who he was trying to fool? He loved magic, even if it was dangerous. It was beautiful too. Just like the fire. He liked to compare them; he visualized his magic like a flame. Soft and warm, sharp and blazing.

He sat by a window, looking at the pitch black night, the eerie silence of the Forbidden Forest just broken by the whistle of the autumn wind. He had been there for two weeks, just two weeks. After three months it looked like the Battle never took place. But he knew it did, and after two weeks seeing the castle like nothing had happened left him with a feeling he couldn't pinpoint.

Dean sighed and leaned his face towards the cold glass, his eyes feeling the sting of the tears, but he holds them. Just like he had done for the past year.

"Why don't you cry?" asked a soft voice startling Dean, who turned his head way to fast, hitting him with the window. The shadow over him didn't snicker, but slowly smirked at the boy's reaction to its presence.

Dean took a moment to look at the owner of the voice. It was a ghost. She wore a simple, yet beautiful dress with long sleeves that reminded him of a muggle princess. It was the Sleeping Beauty, yes, that one. Her hair was long enough to end on her waist, and if he could guess by the shades of gray, it had been black. She was still looking at him, with clear amusement on her eyes.

"So, why don't you cry? It seem like you want to..." she insisted on her question.

"It is not worth it... I don't even know why I want to."

Dean looked at her more closely. He had never seen her around, but she wasn't new either. Her clothing was old fashioned, as he thought before, it reminded him of a princess.

"I wish I could still cry. I have seen so many horrors inside this castle... outside as well." She locked her gaze to the window; Dean thought she was seeing those horrors again.

He stared at her eyes, another shade of the gray that she was. Lighter that her hair, but not by much. Were they brown or dark blue? Maybe they were like Harry's.

"Crying wouldn't fix it, you know." He answered after a moment, her attention back to him.

"You are right. Cry doesn't fix things; at least... our tears don't, yet... I always felt a little bit better after crying... Lighter. "

He raised an eyebrow. Somehow, the girl he had in front of him didn't look like she had cried a lot. She gave him a smile, more like a smirk before she started to drift away. Dean didn't know why, but he wasn't ready to end their conversation.

"Why are you here?" he asked after her. She turned slowly, tilting her head in a bird like manner.

"Why I'm a ghost? Well... same as the others I suppose. I'm afraid of Death, as much as you are... I wasn't ready to embrace her... I think I'll never be. "

"How long have you been here?" he continued. A chill went through his spine when she laughed softly. It wasn't scary, but he guess the ghost had an effect on people they like it or not.

"I think is improper to ask a lady such question you know..." she crossed her arms over her chest, the amusement clear on her eyes.

"Tell me your name then." This seem to take her by surprise, Dean could see it. Why it was so easy to read this ghost?

"My name? I haven't asked yours, haven't I?" She retorted, her gaze turning cold for a second before she seemed to realize what she was doing and kept then a neutral expression.

"You were a little bit occupied prying on why I don't cry, and I was a little bit preoccupied with the ghost I have never seen." He paused for a moment before standing up to his full height, surprised by how tall she was. She was barely four or five inches smaller than him - he saw she wasn't floating around. "Dean Thomas, that's my name."

"Bloody Gryffindor..." she gifts him with another smile."Well, I'll give you a clue. The Gray Lady isn't the only Founders child here." Dean blinked, confused by the clue. "I'll see you around Dean Thomas."

Before he could muster an answer she had vanished, like she hadn't been there at all.