Playground Love

Playground Love

I'm a high school lover, and you're my favorite flavour
Love is all, all my soul
You're my Playground Love

The first love: He just had to have a little bit more and then it would be O.K. Every time he felt like it was all about to end, he'd turn around and she'd be there, waiting; she made everything alright.

And then again he felt guilty, with a gut wrenching pain that scraped invisible knives over soft flesh. He knew he was killing her, slowly, like an insistent poison flooding her veins. It's just a bad habit, he kept telling himself. Look at what it's doing to her, what it's doing to him, he's your best friend; does he deserve it? Goddamn Harry! Why? Why are you so unwilling to let her go? You know she'll never really leave you, neither will he. You're just being selfish and stubborn. They'll always be there for you, whenever you need them. But things can't go on the way they are. They just can't.

He knew deep down that now matter how much he kissed her, how much he whispered softly, he could never love her all the while. As friends, of course; but as lovers, he could never provide the constant love she craved. He felt ashamed for distancing her from the one person who could give her all that, and more.

You're the piece of gold, that flushes all my soul.
Extra time, on the ground.
You're my Playground Love.

The second chance: He hadn't realized how effective she was at solving problems. Wherever he turned, she was there helping out in any way she could. It was a relief for him not to have to worry about Harry alone.

But the way they were, he realized it wasn't the same; it wasn't how it had always been. Not since then, anyway. He avoided her, talked to her less, and their encounters became less frequent.

It had been a surprise to say the least, and it was amazing how much disdain you could hold on to for so long. It was terrible and beautiful all at once; just like Her. Terrible because he would never get the chance to explain why he had held back. Beautiful in its twisted way that he was doomed to be with the one he loved only as a best friend. In his own confusion he denied himself that one simple pleasure, and it burned inside.

Both of them meant so much to him, he was terrified of losing it all; at a time where he needed all they could give.

So he continued on as if nothing fazed him. He stood strong, among the fighting and fallen, and it was then that he realized. He realized exactly what he had been missing. A fact that he had merely glazed over, in order to forget what could never be. He needed it, needed her to stay the same in a world where things were changing too fast for him even to acknowledge their missed presence. Things were changing, and they were all constantly reminded that tomorrow may never begin. It was now or never, and he wasn't going to die before he let her know the truth.

Yet my hands are shaking
I feel my body reeling, times no matter, I'm on fire
on the playground love.

She held her breath, another day over, and still it al felt the same. Darkness blocked the sky like a concrete coverlet. Harry was nowhere to be found, and she breathed a silent prayer to a god she knew didn't exist. But still she prayed to an empty corridor, shadows crawling like insects around her. It was her job to put out the burning braziers in the long corridors as night fell. Despite the inherent need for light, Dumbledore insisted that they maintain this small amount of caution.
She was about to extinguish the last torch when someone called her name. She lifted her eyes slowly, and felt her breath pull tightly at her lungs. He looked beautiful in the singular torchlight, flickering flames that matched his lovely hair. She answered his call with a brief impersonal greeting, not knowing how else to respond. Suddenly he had closed the gap between them, and she thought her ribs would crush her heart like a boot upon a butterfly.

"Is Harry ok?" she asked, thinking it appropriate.

"Yes, of course." He seemed almost disappointed. Almost.

"Look, Ron, I've got to-"

"I need to explain something" he interjected.

"What?" she winced after having spoken, her reply sounded harsher than had meant. But he seemed unfazed.

"After, after you....you and Harry got together I was really distant, with you and...well, to tell you the truth it was because....damn, how do I say this? I love you. I always have, it's just, when you were with Harry, it was more than I could stand. I just couldn't stick around to watch you with him. And then I realized, after you broke up with Harry of course-"

"He broke up with me." She was amazed at how she was still able to speak.

"-ah, well.....the thing I realized is that, it wasn't that you didn't love me, or I didn't love you, it was that you were just afraid to go there with me. I think for some strange reason you found it easier to love Harry at first. And now, now that we have a chance......the last chance..." He trailed off.

Hermione felt overwhelmed with happiness and dismay all at once. What was he doing? She felt like melting on the spot. Here was one of her best friends, admitting that he knew she loved him, and that he loved her back. As if her relationship with Harry had never existed. Her hopes beat their restless wings against melting iron walls.

But he had more, "I know that you're afraid of- Well, we're all afraid right now, but, if you could just overlook that..." He stopped again. This time, Hermione felt compelled to reply, fear and frustration boiling up inside of her.

"Overlook what? The fact that people are losing their lives in a seemingly endless war? Overlook the fact that we, us, you, me, Harry, could die tomorrow? Tonight?

There is no happily ever after for us Ron. You know that" He studied her strangely for a moment, then spoke.

"We're not dead yet, we can still have happily right now can't we?"