Just Lie There

Just Lie There

So no of course we can't be friends

Not while I'm still this obsessed

I want to ask where I went wrong

But don't say anything at all

-"Cup of Coffee" lyrics by Shirley Manson

I'm walking empty streets, searching for something I know I'll never find. But I can't go back tonight. Not yet.

Her smell still lingers in my clothes. Maybe it was just shampoo. I'm sure millions of other girls in the world use it and smell like that. It's not like me to idealize it as genuinely hers. It was some combination of lavender and sage that I can't quite figure out.

It's not like I wasn't expecting it. I've expected it from the beginning, but that doesn't make it any easier. There's a hole where she was, but I can never remember it not being there. I wish I could say I want her back, but I never had her to begin with it seems. She was never anything but a fleeting moment of pleasure.

The blood in the alleys used to scare me. I kneel before a mangled body, hearing the sirens looming ever closer. The face is so familiar, despite it's contortions. A little boy...I think he was in my year at Hogwarts. Colin. Yes, Colin. He went into hiding after our fifth year, but I suppose it was useless. Those things often are. The skull in the sky is fading; he must have been here sometime. Without another glance, I leave.

I suppose it truly began the night Sirius died, but none of it seemed real to me until I saw Harry cry. He didn't know I was there. But I heard him, whispering his godfather's name into the darkness that surrounded him. A part of me wanted him to know that I was there, that I understood. But in the end, I knew nothing would have helped him then.

But Harry's going now. He knows what he has to do. It wasn't enough for him to see Sirius die. He had to see countless innocents and even Dumbledore fall before he understood. Maybe I'm just angry that she always put him first.

I remember the first night she kissed me. It was the summer before her fifth year. Before I started dating Michael Corner and before she'd really resigned herself to a life with Ron. We were merely sitting and talking in the room we shared in headquarters. There was nothing special or different about the moment, but she leaned forward and kissed me. I'd been wishing she would for weeks, but I'd never thought it was even plausible. That night we slept in each other's arms. We didn't mention it again for months.

In a Hogsmeade weekend in October we met, briefly, in an alley behind the Three Broomsticks before she had to go and meet Luna Lovegood.

Luna was an interesting girl. Before winter break in my third year, I "discovered" myself with her. She was beautiful in her own way, and she satisfied my lust for a while.

I think, secretly, I'd known I was gay for sometime before that. I never had been truly interested in boys. My infatuation with Harry was more of a hero-worship where I wanted to be him. And I do admit that I always have. He holds Hermione's respect and her love. I suppose I could have also wanted to be my brother to that effect, as she's always loved him. But the nobility that Harry possessed Ron lacked. And, of course, I could not pass it off as lust if I'd wanted to be my own brother.

I certainly noticed it first when I was thirteen. It wasn't just occasionally snogging Luna. I realized it once when I was looking at a couple in a magazine. A man and a woman dressed up in marriage-wear. I simply understood at that moment that all of these years I'd been staring at the woman.

My fourth year was spent secretly building my relationship with Hermione. It seemed to me that I had loved her forever. The moment we first kissed was the best of my life. I guess that logically that would make the moment she left me the worst. But it wasn't.

I killed my brother. Percy joined Voldemort. His endless ambition got the better of him. I never wanted to admit that he was evil, but I killed him nonetheless. I watched his movements stop as a green burst of light emitted from the end of my wand. I wasn't even aware that I had said the words. I watched the look of pure shock on his face as he fell to the ground. And I turned away.

Voldemort's army swells, but tonight I can feel the end. I saw him leave headquarters earlier in the evening, and just as when I saw his tears over Sirius, I didn't tell anybody what I saw. His face was the same as mine when Percy died.

She left my bed only three days ago. She looked down at me but she didn't have to say a word. She just nodded her head when she saw the question in my eyes.

I should be in my sixth year now. I'm seventeen. Somehow, I don't feel it. Everything I can remember from my life seems to be locked away in decades past. I heard once that war does that to a person. I heard that nothing's ever the same once the war is over. And I know that Harry will never live a normal life when this is over. I doubt he'll ever get married. Maybe he'll just play Quidditch for the rest of his life, form no ties and break no hearts. I think the few underground newspapers that are still running believe that I'm his secret lover, and that that's the only reason I'm not in the fight anymore.

It's true that I haven't fought in the open for several months. After I murdered Percy, Ron requested that I remain at headquarters for a while. I obeyed him for a week, but then I began to prowl the streets again at night, after Hermione fell asleep. I've saved many, but seen the same number die. Maybe that all would have died if not for me. Maybe my insomnia has helped just a little.

I turn another corner. To my surprise I have walked straight into a battlefield. Harry and Voldemort are before me. Struck dumb, I stand for a few moments before moving into shadow once more.

The scene plays before me like a stretch of celluloid. I can feel everything collide, collapsing in upon itself. Draco Malfoy is battling his own father beside Harry. And winning.

The House of Usher is pulled deep into the chasm created by its own occupants.

The celluloid nears its end. It's such a familiar scene to the audience; nothing seems new to me anymore. Malfoy breaks as his father dies, half-destroyed by his own deed. I come out to him silently, trying not to attract those still fighting. I pull him back into hiding with me as he sobs. He hated Lucius. But they were still blood.

I pass the blood on the streets on the way back home, to headquarters. The Burrow is long since gone. Draco and Harry will come later. I only want to tell her first.

I pass Colin's body once more. I stop for a moment, hoping that now I can feel again. Now that it's all over. But nothing comes.

I pass silently up the stairs to the bedrooms. Harry will tell the others. I know where she is. Lying asleep, undisturbed when I enter.

"Hermione," I whisper her name softly into her ear, kneeling beside her face. "It's all over now, baby." I look at her face, soft and pale in the moonlight. "You wanted me to hate you, didn't you?" Her eyes flutter for a moment. I realize my voice had risen without my consent. "You thought that would make it easier. I'm sorry I couldn't hate you. But it's okay now. You don't have to worry anymore. It's all over. You can go and have your happily ever after." With my brother.

I watch from the landing as Harry and Draco enter, quickly unleashing their hands. Maybe he can have something of a happy, if not normal, life after all.

She stands behind me, thinking I don't notice her. She winds her arms around my waist and places her head on my shoulder.

"I thought..." I begin.

"Don't think. It's just this once. It's just because of what's happening." I turn around, my mouth meeting hers in an instant. Her hands roam all over me as we tumble back into her room. She manages to close and lock the door with a spell. Our clothes are on the floor; bare skin meets her rough, worn sheets. My hands are in her hair as my body moves against hers for just this once.

And in the morning I pull my clothes back on before she wakes up. I know we don't want to talk. I walk over to her side of the bed. She always had to have the right side. Or maybe it was that I always had to have the right. "You are my everything," I whisper to her. "I wish you didn't have to do anything at all. But there's still a lot of work ahead, isn't there? I wish...that you could just rest, just this once. Just...lie there. And I could take care of everything. But...I guess that time has passed."

I leave again. I'd normally prowl the streets after leaving her. But for once, I stay. The streets will come. But for now, I can stay.