Chapter Forty-Five

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Week two of school and I am so stressed out. It actually makes me cry when I'm not too busy studying and having a second to actually think about how much coursework there is; on most days, I come home 2 hours before having to head to bed. I really just need someone to rant to so I'm sorry if you're reading this right now; if I don't let it out somehow, I know I'll end up crying again. But anyways! I wrote most of this chapter during my gaps in between classes, when I made terrible decision over and over again to write instead of endorsing myself in my studies. I still regret nothing because writing is always a nice relaxer!

I'm terribly sorry, once again for complaining! I'm still debating whether or not I should leave it as a part of my A/N. I do hope it gives some insight into the reasoning why my updates might be slow from here on out. Thank you all so much for reading and supporting me, as always! I'm sorry once again.

⌛ ⌛ ⌛

"NIALL"

"What was mum like?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe leading to Harry's time. The Timekeeper sat down beside me. His hands were folded neatly in his lap as he watched Harry gracefully tinker out some classical piece that I was quite certain I had heard before. I close my eyes and smiled; it was most definitely a piece he had claimed to have written for the one he would love, just to spite of his parents.

"She was quite lovely; always happy and innocent, like a child." He scooted closer to me and draped his cloak around my shoulders, seemingly aware of my shivering.

"I wonder what our lives would have been like if you had stayed," I said quietly, frowning slightly as Harry's butler applauded him excitedly for his performance; it was a bit painful to see the two of them so friendly and so natural, wishing that it could have been me instead.

"You know we can't ever stay," he replied. The tone in his voice was rather disheartening, almost as if he too knew of that fact but still allowed himself to get close; all that was left now was the shell of a man.

He reached over and took hold of my hand, running his thumb over my knuckles gently. "Do you really love him?" he asked. He fixed his gaze onto me, with Harry now forgotten; the sound of his playing was merely background noise to the loud pounding of my heart.

A sickening feeling gripped me like a terrible fever that I simply couldn't shake off. The mere thought of just how much I liked him, how much I loved him, made me sick to my stomach. It became hard to breathe when I thought too much about it, almost as if everything inside of me wanted to give in.

I squeezed his hand tightly and nodded my head. "I do." A knot began to build up in my throat, the realization once more of just how much Harry meant to me hit me like a new revelation. I curled up into the Timekeeper and let myself go, sobs wracking my body like a small flower in the midst of a hurricane.

The soft sound of the piano began to fade back into focus, drowning out my ears. Every note that Harry would play felt like yet another pin being pushed into my heart, each one more painful than the last.

The Timekeeper pulled me into his chest and held me tightly, almost as if he was afraid I would break if he wasn't there to keep the pieces together. "There is a way I can let you see him again, just one last time," he finally said. His voice came out small and hushed, seemingly unsure of the words himself.

I sat up and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, sniffing loudly in an effort to calm my nerves. "I'm willing to do what it takes."

"And I don't doubt that, but must I ask. Is that something he would want?" He sent me a sad smile before flicking his gaze towards Harry. A thick silence fell as I pondered the meaning behind his words, not quite understanding why seeing him again could possibly be something against Harry's wishes; did he not want to see me?

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