Unbeknownst To...

The Consequences of a Facade

As Harry laid in the privacy bed that night, he finally allowed his masks to fall. It just seemed so hard to be happy when there were so many things that were missing and just this once, he didn't use his occlumency shields to block out the storm; consequences be damned. His cheeks burned as he felt two fat tears rolled down his cheeks because he just felt so alone.

For the past two days, he has done bizarre things in the hopes of feeling better, feel as if he would be just fine and not miss his family too much. Everything was just piling up, he felt so overwhelmed, annoyed, frustrated, and weak, but most of all, he felt lonely. He had friends, but none of them were able to see through the mask that he put up. He confusedly found himself enjoying the time he spent with a teenager who grew up to become one of the greatest dark lords of all times. The one who was the catalyst to the domino of reactions that was his failure of a life. At first, he struggled to keep with his neutral attitude towards Tom but now it was different and he hated the conflict going on in his mind.

Sometimes, he felt as if Tom understood how he was feeling, felt as if there was some sort of connection between them but he dismissed the idea because that would be too absurd to think about. Not even the Voldemort in his time had been able to see through him.

He felt disgusted with himself, disgusted for having his composure nearly slip several times due to his emotions, disgusted for hanging with the wrong company, disgusted that he hasn't tried harder to get ahold of his family.

He longed for their company and grieved for their loss even though he knew that they were never truly gone. He remembered all the moments they've spent together, all the good and the bad. He remembered the comfort and understanding they held for each other, the safety and reassurance they felt amongst their own company. He remembered the times when they've had to heal each other because their training went too far, but he also remembered the times when they felt proud of their accomplishments. He longed to be there and he knew that he would give so much just to have them all together again.

He was exhausted with the persona he must keep up, a warm-hearted if a bit crazy student for the Hufflepuffs and a powerful figure for the Slytherins. He was exhausted with the things he must do to protect himself, exhausted with having to deal with people who misunderstand him. Perhaps, death would be a mercy but was he even brave enough to take his own life when he has worked so hard for years to live and survive? No, he wasn't and he felt like a coward because he couldn't.

He rolled onto his stomach, face planted into the pillow, muffled sobs echoing off the thin curtains, body shaking under the blankets as uncontrollable sobs wracked his frame. His core trembled as it fought for breath amongst the suffocating presence of the emotions. Just this once, he allowed himself to cry even as his pillow became cold and wet from his tears and he grieved, reminisced, and exhausted himself. As the last of his tears slipped away, he pulled on his strength to stay strong, find his family, and be the leader he was born to be. But that could wait till morning, for now, he should be allowed to take comfort in the darkness as he drifted off towards the arms of Morpheus.

That night as Tom Riddle went to bed, there was a strong wave of sadness before he was assaulted with a storm of emotions through his occlumency shields. He was vaguely aware that one end of his connection with Harry Potter was opened, then he was assaulted with countless memories.

He watched as Harry fought for his survival, sought comfort from those around him, protected students from bullies, battled against the machinations of an old man, and found the strength buried deep within. He envied Harry's strength in not just magic but also of the mind and soul. He envied Harry's resilience, the amount of determination he carried, the power of his character. Worst of all, he found himself envious of those who had earned Harry's affections, been the ones under Harry's protective instincts, witnessed Harry's growth in strength. He was frustrated with his future self for playing into Harry's game, not catching on to the true character. He was jealous of the many paths Harry has created for himself especially when he, Lord Voldemort couldn't find the strength to walk anywhere but towards the dark. He understood Harry's pain, was envious of Potter's strength and longed to have the brat on his side.