It's Not Easy... To Be Me

I can't stand to fly

I'm not that naïve

I'm just out to find

The better part of me

Harry looked stonily out into the lake, oblivious to the misty rain that was causing an imposing cloud of fog to creep out from the Forbidden Forest, caressing him with its chilling fingers. He pulled his knees up to his chest, the numbing sleet rendering his jaw useless. It didn't matter. Life was so unfair.

I'm more than a bird... I'm more than a plane

More than some pretty face beside a train

It's not easy to be me

He had never seen anyone as upset as Cho had been that day. He traced his fingers over the place on his cheek where she'd slapped him. The physical discomfort was temporary, but the emotional pain had been scarred into his memory.

Wish that I could cry

Fall upon my knees

Find away to lie

About a home I'll never see

It was after dinner, and, the typical Ravenclaw, Cho Chang was in the library, working by the light of a small lamp. She was shrouded by stacks of books and the lack of light, darkness setting the room into a decidedly depressing atmosphere. Having come simply to retrieve his bag of books, Harry had been somewhat alarmed when he heard a muffled cry drifting through the shelves. Approaching cautiously, he crept through the towering aisles until his spicy green eyes were met with red-rimmed crystal orbs.

It may sound absurd... but don't be naïve

Even heroes have the right to bleed

I may be disturbed... but won't you concede

Even heroes have the right to dream

It's not easy to be me

"Cho," he breathed, startled by her harried appearance. "What are you doing back here? Are you all right?" He immediately kicked himself inwardly. Of course she wasn't all right. She was crying in a dark, empty library when she should have been with her friends doing girly things. It was a Friday night, after all.

Her eyes narrowed at him with hatred and suddenly Harry got the gnawing urge to take his things and go.

"Why did you let him go with you?" she asked weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "He wanted you to have the cup, why didn't you just take it?"

Horrified by what she was accusing him of, Harry felt his cheeks drain of color. "I didn't know," he said harshly, taken aback.

Ignoring him, Cho spoke again. "You have no idea what it's like thinking of him every night before I go to sleep, knowing that I'll never hear him laugh again. Knowing that I may dream of him, but when I wake up his smile will be just a memory, a memory that may very well slip away from me at any moment. Why didn't you just let him be humble? Why didn't you just let him do what he thought was best?"

Up, up and away... away from me

It's all right... you can sleep sound tonight

I'm not crazy... or anything...

Anger surging through him like adrenaline, Harry opened his mouth before he knew what he would say. "Don't give me that," he said in a deadly whisper. "Don't tell me that you're entire life was shattered and that you'll never breathe again- putting it off on me. I won't lie and say that I liked Cedric, but God knows that only makes it harder when I fall asleep and see his cold gray eyes staring at me without a trace of life. You should be glad that you'll eventually forget his flaws. You'll be able to keep him in the back of your mind as your highschool sweetheart; you won't have to remember him as innocent bloodshed on your hands."

The slap came before he could even see it coming, her small, frigid hand hitting him with full force. Her expression blazed with pride and vengeance like he had never seen, her breathing was rattled and hot on his face. "Don't ever, ever tell me I'll be lucky to forget him," she seethed. "He was a far better man than you'll ever be, Harry Potter." She stared at him for a moment and then added, "The boy who lived is nothing in comparison to the man who died."

With that, she stormed off, leaving a hole in Harry's heart greater than he had ever felt before. Speechless, he slumped into the vacated chair and felt warm tears sting his eyes.

I can't stand to fly

I'm not that naïve

Men weren't meant to ride

With clouds between their knees

The sleet began to pour more avidly onto his face, mingling with the salty tears that were streaming like waterfalls now. Maybe it was entirely his fault. Maybe if he weren't always the Perfect Harry Potter, he would have reacted to his first instinct and snatched the cup, or not warned Cedric of the spider at all. Self-loathing overcame him, drowning him in a vortex of hopelessness.

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet

Digging for kryptonite on this one way street

Only a man in a silly red sheet

Looking for special things inside of me

Inside of me...

Vision blurring, Harry buried his face in his hands, the memory of Cedric's empty eyes looming before him like an ever-present omen... an omen that The Boy Who Lived would be the next to die. "I'm so sorry, Cedric," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

It's not easy... to be me