Crowing

Crowing

"You get over regret
You were sleeping with the angels
He was under the bed
And the more skin that you shed
The more the air in your throat will linger
when you call him your friend...
Staring at a cold little hand
reading fault lines
of a shell of a man
you were waiting for a word from above
wouldn't you know it,
no answer ever did come
And it was never a question he was crowing for repair
you'd give him love and affection,
but you couldn't keep him there."

She loved Hogwarts. She did. Honestly and truly. Hogwarts made her whole, complete. It was there that she would transition from a bossy little girl to a sensitive woman. She would finally have friends. Friends who cared about her, sometimes more then they did about themselves, and she about them. But most of all, she loved him.

In the beginning, she thought that Ron was him, but with the passing of her fourth year, was also any romantic feeling for him. She visited Viktor Krum in Bulgaria, she had her first kiss. She refused to let him put his tongue in her mouth. She didn't like him that much. In the end, Viktor grew up and she stayed a little girl with bushy hair and a bossy voice. She cared very little when he broke it off, but it still hurt. No one likes to be rejected.

Throughout the course of her fifth year she would find a great many faces to admire, but none stood out prominently, except for one. But she would not allow herself to think that way about him. It just wasn't possible. There are some things that should never change, and should always remain the same. He was one of those things. And slowly throughout fifth and sixth year, despite her very intelligible notions and ideas, the feeling for him would begin gnawing away at the pit her stomach, as if she had been fasting and her stomach acid had been resigned to feed on the lining of the very organ who hosted it. Heartache and stomachache seem to go hand in hand. The way you feel as if you just missed a stair when walking down them, feels exactly the same as when that special someone walks by, or even says hello. How oddly emotions and the body are connected. Hermione liked to deal with facts, emotions she decided were a weakness. At least in her, as she had always been a little emotional. Those two brats made her that way. She could remember crying over their arguments between each other as much as her arguments with them. They were very precious to her, those two boys. But not as precious as just him.

"...Something inside is telling me,
that I've got your secret.
Are you still listening?
Fear is the lock,
and laughter the key to your heart.
And I love you.
I am yours, you are mine,
you are what you are,
and you make it hard..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I spend too much time,
raiding windmills.
We go side by side,
laugh until it's right
There's something that we both show,
waiting with the life boats..."

She loved Hogwarts. Loved it. Hogwarts made her feel truly alive. It was where she learned to forget about petty little insecurities. It was where she learned to forgive instead of holding grudges.

She would mature with something approaching skill and grace. Everyone would notice, even him though he would pretend not too.

She used to think Harry was him. Until one day she opened up her beautiful brown eyes and saw Harry staring at her with the same adoration and caring as her brother Ron. She cried a little, but she moved on. Until her fifth year nobody could take his place.

In her fourth year, Ginny became a people watcher; a mere wall-flower who watched the masses and then made her own assumptions and analyzations as to what was plaguing each subject. She knew that Hermione was fighting her feelings. Ginny understood, she really did. But Hermione was over analytical. Facts can be flawed when not depicted correctly. And Hermione's facts towards her feelings for him, were most inaccurate and flawed. For someone so brave, intelligent, and clever, she was still such a silly girl.

Ron lived oblivious to everything, bless him. He wasn't thick really, just merely sedated it seemed. Ron was happy all in all. Sure, he complained about being poor, about not having the riches that in his mind he thought that he deserved. He sometimes felt lowly and second best when compared to his brothers or Harry. But all in all, Ron was happy and content with life; for if anything his being overshadowed and his lack of the finer niceties made him strive to be better. It made him work harder, and in the end, though he may not have realized it, it made him content.

Then there was Harry. Harry she would think sadly, no one has to be brave all the time. Everyone cries and everyone knows that you're not as happy as you seem to be. Everyone but you. Harry lived in a state of denial that would have boggled most psychiatrists, but not Ginny. For although she was new to people watching, she had been Harry watching for years. She worried about him. In her sixth year she would discover that this worry was not love. It had taken close to six years, but she finally broke free, and loved Harry openly as her brother.

"...I spend too much time seeking shelter,
World without end,
Couldn't hold her.
There's something that we both show,
waiting with the life boats.
Baby anywhere the wind blows,
It's all worth waiting for..."

When Ginny learned that Harry was not the one, and had finally found him; she found a freedom. She hadn't told him yet how she felt, but she would. He would agree. She knew he would. She saw the way he watched her when he thought she couldn't see, the way a smile threatened to break through if he wasn't careful to appear null and void. It made her ache for him worse then ever. She did not blush like she did with Harry, though at times, she felt as though she may vomit.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"It's getting to the point where I'm no fun anymore
I am sorry
Sometimes it hurts so badly I must cry out loud
I am lonely
I am yours, your are mine
you are what you are
You make it hard..."

He loved Hogwarts. It was the only place he had ever really felt happy. It was the only place he had ever belonged. It was where he had made the transition from a scrawny little boy in baggy clothes to a striking young man who was much respected by his peers. It was where he had finally started his inner healing, until he found her.

He had always known her. They had always spoken, but she had always faded into the background against all the others. Then one day he truly noticed her. Not just her, but everything about her. The way she smiled, and the way she laughed; the only times she threw caution to the wind and relaxed. He felt that throughout their years at Hogwarts that they had all built walls around themselves. Love your friends but no one else. He, Ron, Hermione, and even Ginny all seemed to move about their daily activities reveling in the days delights, whispering fervently and angrily about its disappointments. None had moved apart from each other. They stayed a close circle of friends, with no lines crossed. He wondered if they felt as he did. If they too, were in a strange and forlorn way, afraid to love.

More then anything else in the world, Harry longed to be loved. He had been liked, but never loved. He wondered if she loved him, if she ever could. He would never have the strength to ask her though. He just wasn't strong enough, not anymore. For with each passing year Harry lost a little bit more of himself. He hid it well, and no one knew. Though sometimes Ginny would look at him with eyes that said you're not fooling anyone. She was wrong he knew, for it seemed that he had fooled everyone. Everyone but Ginny. He acted strong and so they believed him. They needed him to be strong and in the end he would die because of it. He knew this. He accepted it. He felt very alone.

He had known since he was in his first year that he would never grow old and gray with his friends. He would someday die to save them, and to save the thousand of nameless faces that had one day lifted their glasses and toasted, "To Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived." He had never asked for that, and it made him bitter. That his life could be so insignificant that it would matter to no one unless one day he gave it up so that they all could live. He would do this for them, mostly because he could think of no good reason not to. He had a happy life. He had good friends. He wanted her to love him the way he loved her until the day he would die. It would not be a terribly long wait, he reasoned, there would not be much commitment involved. But he also knew that when she fell, it would be completely. And if it were for him...he would destroy her utterly. She did not deserve that.

In a way Harry longed to make peace with his life and everything in it. Even with Draco Malfoy. Perhaps before he died he would speak t Draco and tell him: I'm giving you what you want. So let's put the past behind us. Then he would shake Draco's hand and go die.

He honestly believed that he was in love with her. He watched her grow and mature. He loved that he knew everything about her, every line, contour, and wrinkle. In his mind, he always found himself finishing her sentences in his head, he knew her so well.

"...cause you know, for you I'd bleed myself dry..." Whenever he heard that song he thought of her. "...for you I'd bleed myself dry." He would someday. He would die so that she could live. And somehow, that made it worthwhile. It made it alright. It made him ready.

"...Remember what we've said
and done
and felt about each other
please have mercy
Don't let the past remind us of what we are not now
I am leaving
I am yours, you are mine
you are what you are,
you make it hard..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He loved Hogwarts. He really did. If for no other reason then that she was there. He didn't know what attracted him to her, nor why, but he reasoned that perhaps it was fate. He wouldn't argue with fate.

When the war was over, he would make her his own. She would go willingly.

"I spend too much time,
raiding windmills.
We go side by side,
laugh until it's right
There's something that we both show,
waiting with the life boats..."

When he finally could have her, he would never let her go. He wished that things could be different. To be honest, Draco wished that he could have made his peace a long time ago. Especially with Harry Potter. He didn't really hate Harry, he disliked him at times true, and he was incredibly rude and never missed an opportunity to rub his face in the dirt. But it was Potter's fault; he did start it after all. If he had just shaken hands with him on the train all them years ago... But he had not and Draco had been thoroughly embarrassed and because of this the taunting and snide remarks had begun. And now it was too late to back down. He didn't really hate the Mudblood either, though he did find her somewhat inferior and true, he was even slightly embarrassed that she had beaten him out in every exam. Draco never meant the things he said, even the things he said to his closest friends and family. He acted as his name commanded but secretly, he wished to be different. To even be a part of the terrible trio. He could replace Weasley...he would probably never like him. He would try perhaps, but not for a long time. He would make peace with Harry, before he died. He knew that Potter would die, and in so many ways that he had already. But it was not his problem really, but he would make amends before his death. For Potter's peace of mind...and his own.

When the time came, he would make his peace with everyone, he would go to her and ask for her love. He was confident that she would say yes. Why wouldn't she? He saw the way she looked at him, and unlike himself, she made no real attempt to hide it. He would try to bring some honor to his name, so that she would never have to be tainted by it. She that sometimes snuck out to the Quidditch pitch and looked at the sky, at the constellation that bore his name. He would watch her from a safe distance, and smile as his heart soared and he repeatedly whispered to himself: Not yet, not yet. Be patient. And he would resign himself to watching her hair flow wildly with the wind and her beautiful skin glow is his starlight.

"Spring's sweet rhythm dance in my head,
Slip into my lover's hands
Kiss me, won't you kiss me now?
And sleep I would inside your mouth
Don't be us too shy
For knowing it's no big surprise
I will wait for you
I will wait for no one but you
Oh please Lover lay down
Spend this time with me..."