THREE NIL

CHAOS- It's just the beginning

Every promise that I made I'm rescinding

Center mass in the middle of the constant

Cry for help- it's debatable

The only reason that you love me is I'm hated by all

Come o- come see dysfunction

I guess we're gonna leave it open for discussion

Who am I? And where am I going?

Maybe I'm looking in the wrong direction

Maybe I'm looking for any direction

This is not my war- this is not my fight

This is something more- this is not my life

(This is not my) Revolution

(This is not my) Convolution

(This is not my) Expectation

(This is not my) Desperation

Holed up, scarred and tamed for the hell of it

Look at me- I am the glorified malcontent

Save me? Save this!

All I gotta do is give up and all is forgiven

I'm sick of being the butt of a cosmic joke

And I don't get the punch line

A million people lined up for miles

To see the great big mouth shut up and apologize

This is not my war- this is not my fight

This is something more- this is not my life

(This is not my) Revolution

(This is not my) Convolution

(This is not my) only reason to question why

Today, I said goodbye!

I'm the pariah (break me)

I am the liar (save me)

I can take anything (make me)

Accuse me of everything (take me)

Cut off the system (shape me)

Deny me my existence (waste me)

I won't be afraid (try me)

I won't be unmade (deny me)

So come on- break it off

Come one- buy the lie

Come on- say it, say it

Come on

Say goodbye!

Goodbye!

Oh I didn't need to leave to stay right here

Today, I said goodbye!

Goodbye!

- Slipknot

It is the end of July and already I feel boredom coming to destroy me. I hate this. My best friend is suppose to be my best friend not my rival in all things regarding my right to existence. I could nearly hate him.

I can't help but notice that he seems oblivious to all the attention he gets and I fume over. I am taller than he is, smarter, I am everything he is not. However he is a better flier than I. A better student when it comes to the Defense Against The Dark Arts classes we take. He is the Boy- Who- Lived. Not me.

I'm looking in the mirror and all my flaws are displayed out in full for me to see and accept. But I can't I have bright red hair that brings to light my freckles. I have blue eyes that shine. Tall and lanky. I am not ugly not beautiful at first sight.

At least by what I see. The only girl who has ever mentioned anything to me about my appearance wanted to get Harry's autograph.

My attitude theses days is not very positive. In fact, even my brothers think that I should lighten up. Not one of the several people downstairs can even guess that my unhealthy "attitude" is because of the dark haired orphan they so willingly love.

No.

I love Harry. No one, nor thing can ever change that. We're the closest thing to being real brothers. My own being so difficult and busy body to love me.

I can hear someone coming up the stairs. I want to scream "Go Away!" At the top of my lungs. But deciding against it . I turn to the door, to see Harry beaming. His glasses askew. I know that I should smile in return. But I don't instead I stand there.

His smile fades a bit. "Guess who's here" I know who it is.

"Hermione." My voice is devoid and somewhat cold. I hate playing these stupid games with him.

He's frowning. "Well no need to sound so cheerful about it."

I smile a big fake smile. "OK Like Oh Mi God. Let's Like So Go And See Her!" I can't help myself. It comes as a second nature to me.

He's definitely pissed now. "Why don't you stay up here and be an ass."

Slam.

Sighing I flop onto my bed. I don't care. I'm through being the Push- Over.

Its supper time and I have finally become hungry. So despite all odds, I'm going to venture outside this room in search of some food. It may be impossible but I'm going to try.

I creep down the stairs. Feeling a little giddy. After all that is how I usually get after I spend a day in self- pity that knows no boundaries.

Of course my mother is waiting right in the kitchen to scream at me.

And boy does she scream.

I tune out and think of a little jig I seen on one of the Muggle T.b's or whatever you call them.

That woman knows everything.

By the time she's done the second time. My appetite has died. I feel sad and the feeling of despair has overcome my senses once again. I hate this feeling of helplessness.

"... So what have you to say for yourself!" She looks murderous.

I look straight in her eye. "I'm tired" Such a statement is asking for a death sentence.

I turn while she purples and walk up the stairs ready to stare at the wall and wait for the numbness to take over once more.

Hermione is in the room by the time I wake up. I don't want to talk to her. But friending sleep is impossible to her and Harry. So instead I open my eyes and start to count the cracks in the ceiling.

I get to 70 by the time she starts to talk. "So do you plan to lie in bed all day again?"

I like to be silent when people ask me this,

The silence dominates over us, while my insides wrench painfully.

So I think of this song that I once heard. Rather lovely in my own opinion.

SEE THE SUN

I'm coming round to open the blinds

You can't hide here any longer

My god you need to rinse those puffy eyes

You can't lie still any longer

And yes they'll ask you where you've been

And you'll have to tell them again and again.

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day

But I promise you you'll see the sun again

And you're asking why pain's the only way to happiness

And I promise you you'll see the sun again.

- Dido

I make the connection to the song to what Hermione is trying to do. I know that they sent her up here because they think that I have been infatuated with here. A crush that should be noticed. But not anymore. I don't want to think of what could've been. And what has been lost. Hermione is no longer someone I associate with love.

I feel nothing for no one. And the thing that baffles me most is that everyone thinks that I still feel that fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach. I realize now that I never honestly liked Hermione. Just felt a possessiveness that I cannot explain.

My eyes fall close again. Fatigue that cannot be explained has taken over. I want to scream. But instead I fall into the dark abyss that is my mind.

Waking up I feel sick. Hot and tired at the same time. I move to get up. But I can't. My arm is not moving. My breathing is becoming laboured. I want to scream. But I refuse to bow down before this. This- whatever this is.

I finally jerk bad enough that I fall to the floor. But the floor is covered with snakes. Snakes that want to get into my head and destroy what little balance I have left. I allow the scream to escape.

Footsteps and screams are all around me. I can't stop screaming. My fear of despair has come back in full form. I want to die. I want to fall into oblivion and forever stay underwater looking up into the ripples of the water.

I want to die.

Hands are around my body. Shading and cradling me as I continue to scream in agony.

I want to die.

I stop. I see a man dying in the street. He's old and brittle. Kneeling over and no longer breathing. I want to help him. But I can't. No one can.

I can feel the warmth of the person whose holding me. I feel the coldness of my hands. The horror that has filled my heart.

I don't know what is happening. All I know is that the someone whose holding me is not my mother, not my father. But my brother, the one whose suppose to be gone. Percy.

The last time that my brother held me like this was when that little boy whom had been my friend , drowned in that lake his parents took us. I wonder if he remembers how badly I cried in his arms when it happened. I wonder if the nightmares still plague him the way that they plague me at night.

I can hear the song he's whispering in my ear.

"...when the cold of Winter comes

starless night will cover day

in the veiling of the sun

we will walk in bitter rain

but in dreams

I still hear your name

and in dreams

We will meet again

when the seas and mountains fall

And we come to end of days

In the dark I hear a call

Calling me there

And back again..."

The last time I heard that song, was the same day I lost that happiness that came so naturally. I don't want to think on it. So instead I hum the tune. I remember how much I once loved my brother and how much we loved the family. I remember the times that the world seemed to fall silent during the times we both were at peace. The poorness of our family was non- existent, because we would go outside and he would try to answer my questions about life with words that could not accurately describe it.

I clutch at his chest hoping that the world would go still if he allowed it. As soon as he is done with the song I launch into a poem I learned during my desperation.

I AM

I am- yet what I am, none come or know;

My friends forsake me like a memory lost

I am the self- consumer of my woes;

They rise and vanish in oblivion host

Like shadows in lover frenzied stifled throes;

And yet I am, and live- like vapours toss't

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise-

Into the living sea of waking dreams;

Where there is neither sense of life or joy

But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;

Even the dearest, that I love the best

Are strange- way, rather, stranger than the rest

I long for the scenes where man hath never tried

A place where woman never smiled or wept

There to abide with my Creator, God.

And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept

Untroubling, and untroubled where I lie

The grass below- above the vaulted sky

-John Clare

It doesn't matter if anyone can understand that because I know that Percy will. He always did. Whether or not he truly did, I do not know. All I know is that he will try to understand.

I allow him to hold me still.

I don't know how long we stayed that way. His arms holding me as though I were about to fall.

After a long while I allow his attempt to get me back on my bed. Everyone has disappeared. He's gentle, in the way people are gentle when they don't want to break something.

I miss him as my Big Brother Percy. Instead he had become just 'Percy' with nothing gained.

I notice that his eyes are desperately searching mine for some sort- of assurance.

I smile.

"Stay here, until I fall asleep." That is all I am able to give.

He smiles and nods. Getting on the bed, shifting into a position where I would be lying on his lap.

In doing so, I realize that after the little boy drowned, this was the only way I slept for several months. Percy being the only one I could stand touching me without screaming tot he point blood would rise to my face.

I wake- up. The dream I just experienced, I found horrendous. A graveyard of dragon skeletons. Griffins tearing the flesh off a fresh carcass.

Percy is still asleep.

Getting up reluctantly, I feel the need of a shower. It doesn't matter what time it is. All that really matters is that I get cleaned, and fresh enough to eat and go for a long awaited walk.

The shower itself is europhia. It seems as though I'd just spent the last year in the wilderness and this is my first time that I've had a chance to be cleaned.

I feel a little better. The steam fogging up the mirror in a sort- of 'thank god' way.

Getting dressed I notice that either my clothes have stretched or my body has lost weight.

Stomach rumbles.

Eating seems like a past- time activity. An essential activity however. I swallow and take bigger bites. My jaw hurting. My stomach slowly filling.

I finally finish. The sky outside has become light.

Leaving the house I begin to debate whether or not to leave a note.

Not.

I'm walking a road, that I have walked a thousand times before. I'm going farther and farther from the wretched house nicknamed 'The Burrow'. Its ruins, I am no longer able to see.

'Ye nearly made yer ma dead o' a hear' attack." The voice seems to be bodiless. Bending, touring slightly to the left I see a figure that is familiar.

I sigh, "Hello, Mundungus."

His drunken grin greets me back.

"Runnin' o' way?"

I shake my head.

"Nah, just walking." I gesture to the road.

The look he's giving me is calculating.

"Ye best be getting 'some shouldn't we."

I nod.

"Good I'll walk with ye. That way Molly will be a little distracted." I laugh, despite myself.

The walk is mostly quiet. Mundungus sometimes chuckling about some new inventions for the 'Weasley Wheezes."

As we neared the Burrow I could see in the distance figures flying on brooms. A longing weld up inside me.

"...The clouds overhead so white.

Sky so blue

My nerve conceals me.

To go amongst the stars

To see the world, for all its wonders..."

Its been a week, and no one seems fit to bring into inquiry the incidents that have been caused by me.

Percy, whom disowned the family believing, that we've fallen form grace, is here welcomed with open arms. My mother spends hours on catching up with him, falling into a loving mother role every few minutes. Percy tolerates it with small smiles. Fred and George are rather bitter at him. Playing pranks and remarking on how much money they've made through their 'Weasley Wheezes.' Percy never rises to their baiting.

My father and Percy are still formal. My father being the one still hurt from comments made a year ago. Harry and Hermione avoid Percy, along with Ginny, Charlie and Bill.

Than there is me. Ronald, the ghost living upstairs.

I love him. My older brother.

I'm lying on my bed when he comes in. feeling his weight on the end bed, I turn to see him staring at me.

Remarkable, how much we look alike. Yet definite features are unique to each of us. The way dignity overthrows his face. While a cynical humour overrules my own facial features.

"Fred and George want me gone." He's leaving.

I sit up fast, dizzy, grab his wrist.

"You can't... I ....I need you here..." I don't know how to put into words what his leaving would do to me.

He smiles, a sad smile. Shaking his head.

"I can't be trusted..."

"I DON'T CARE!"

I'm breathing heavily. The anger being something I don't need.

I hate this feeling. I hate being so emotional.

It makes me feel as though I cannot control even a small aspect of my life. Instead its reeling out of control. A panic rises that I cannot explain.

Percy is no longer smiling. The look in his eyes is maddening.

"Ron. Do you know what day it is?" How detached he seems from me.

I don't answer.

He continues. "Do you know what has been going on in the world?" Curious that is what he is.

I let go of his wrist. Only to have him grab onto mine.

Pulling me close to him. Looking straight into his blue eyes.

"Do you even realize what is happening to you?" His voice is soft.

Tears well up into my eyes. I choke out. "No."

Fred and George choose that exact moment to apparate into the room.

Seeing me crying and Percy clutching at my wrist, they naturally just to conclusions.

I don't even listen as the yelling starts. Not until the wands are pulled out.

They are just standing there. Not seeming to care what happens.

I bring my knees up to my chin and start to sing to myself.

"... Walk with me my little child,

to the forest of denial,

speak with me my only mind,

walk with me until the time,

and make the forest turn wine,

you take a legend for a fall,

you saw the product,

why, can't you see you are my child,

why don't you know that you are my mind,

tell everyone in the world, that I'm you,

take this promise to the end of you,

walk with me my little friend

take this promise to the end

speak with me my only mind

walk with me until the end

and make the forest turn to sand

you take the legend for a fall

you saw the product.

Why, can't you see you are my child

why, don't you know that you are my mind

tell everyone in the world, that I'm you

take this promise to the end of you

take this promise for a ride

you saw the product of it all

no televisions in the air

no circumcisions on the chair

you made the weapons for us all

just look at us now

why can't you see that you are my child

why don't you know you are my mind

tell everyone in the world, that I'm you

take this promise to the end of you..."

-SOAD

George is staring at me with shock.

I look up at Percy. Whose giving me one of his sad looks. I look away.

"I'm going for a walk."

I like to walk these days. It makes the world more tranquil.

Percy is right to ask those questions, because I don't even remember what the date is, or why I have to be the one going crazy.

It should be Harry. He's lost everything, his parents, his godfather. He's the most hunted down kid in the world. While I. Am.

Nothing.

There is nothing extraordinary about me. The world offers nothing to me. I get no condolences. I am that I am, nothing but Ron Weasley. Another redhead.

We're going to Diagon Alley, where the Twins will try vainly to apologize by buying me things. Where Harry and Ginny plan to cheer me up with stupid pranks they find. Where Mom and Dad hope to find some way to get me to eat and speak. I miss Percy to the depths of my core.Why?

No matter who asks me that , i can never honestly answer.

Everything is perfect to everyone, making me want to gag.

Until Malfoy showed up. Standing in the tailor shop as I entered to get refitted.

In fact I hadn't noticed him for the first five minutes. Dazed I was staring out of the window by the time I hear his cold drawl.

"So you finally have money Weasel?"

I start. Turning to look back at him. I say nothing.

Whether or not he notices that my attention is not all focussed on him. I feel a sadness. Not even the sight of him is able to stir the blood in my veins.

He smirks. "Like what you see Weasel?"

i look back into his grey eyes, finding nothing but a winter's chill. I turn my gaze back to the window. Staring at the people rushing past. A hag being pushed by a crowd. I want to go out there and be one of those forgotten faces. With no one to know and no one to care about me.

I notice he;s not saying anything more, as the silence envelopes us. The ladies that pin the cloth together chattering amongst themselves.

I feel something warm touch my shoulder. Startled, I look wide- eyed at the person.

The absent sneer makes the face handsome. The grey eyes still as cold as ice. The pale blonde hair, white in the light. The concern is what makes me cringe.

"They said that you went crazy." His voice is not so mocking.

I swallow. "They?" The eyes are enchanting.

His full red lips frown. "Daily Prophet."

Oh.

I remember what Percy said about not paying any attention to the news.

I cannot seem to stop staring at his lips.

I wonder what a kiss is like. Harry described it as something disgusting.

His hand leaves my shoulder as he backs a few steps away from me.

Dazed I shake my head trying to clear it.

When I look up, I catch him staring at me with his lips parted. We make eye contact.

He quickly pays for his things and leaves.

I hum a little number to myself.

"... You don't remember me.

But I remember you.

I lie awake and try so hard.

Not to think of you.

But who can decide what they dream?

And dream I do...

I believe in you.

I'll give up everything just to find you.

I have to be with you to live to breathe.

You're taking over me.

Have you forgotten all I know.

And all we had?

You saw me mourning my love for you.

And touched my hand.

I knew you loved me then.

I believe in you.

I'll give up everything just to find you.

I have to be with you to live to breathe.

You're taking over me.

I look in the mirror and see your face.

If I look deep enough.

So many thing inside that are

Just like you are taking over..."

-Evanescence.

Its time to go back to Hogwarts. And as per usual my mother is overemotional. Hugging and kissing a summer of insanity forgotten.

Hermione and I go to the Prefect's cabins, promising Harry that as soon as we can we'll go back to hang out with him.

Malfoy is in the same cabin as us. Along with Pansy Parkinson. I hate them both. Hermione whispers in my ear to 'keep my cool'.

Malfoy has his sneer back on. I don't bother to look at him. Ernie MacMillan soon joins us. Getting Hermione in a long debate on house- elves.

After about fifteen minutes I finally look up. To find Malfoy staring.

Catching his eye, he doesn't turn away. I love his grey eyes. Cold and unyielding. Dark rimmed with a sort- of unearthly look in them. He keeps his eyes steady with mine. I feel something strange happening.

My stomach is groaning.

I break off my stare and look down at my stomach. Than I laugh. The laugh is of relief. I'm hungry.

Hermione lets out a small giggle. I turn towards her and start to tickle her. Peals of laughter escape her, ringing with my own.

Standing up I declare in aloud to all whom remain stunned.

"I AM HUNGRY!"

I grin, then take off in search of nourishment.

I don't care if no one understands the significance of that statement.

I basically attacked the lunch trolley, and waddled back tot he cabin. Hermione and Ernie as well as Parkinson have already left. Leaving only Malfoy and I.

Dropping my treasures on the seat opposite of him. I ask.

"Where the hell did everyone go?" I don't really care, but it seemed appropriate to ask.

He shrugs and looks at my bounty.

"Hungry?"

I laugh. "After two months of not eating. I think I should be."

I tuck into eating. Offering Malfoy some. He says 'No' and leans back to watch me glut myself.

Finally I open up 'Bertie Botts.'

His cold voice sends shivers up my spine.

"I'll have one of those." I hold up the box for him. Still on the floor.

Leaning towards me, forcing me to give him my full attention he takes one. Putting it slowly in his mouth. Allowing me to see his tongue. My passion becoming too much to handle.

Picking up a Cockroach Cluster I break it in half. He opens his mouth and begins to eat it.

All the while he eats to it out of my hand, our eyes never break contact.

When he's done, he licks my fingers. Wet and hot.

I've become uncomfortably aroused. Near painfully.

I like my lips. He leans back, watching me indifferently.

"Still hungry?" Cold and uncaring.

I say nothing and get up to stumble out of the cabin.

"...He hasn't any enemy in the world

and none of his friends like him."

- Oscar Wilde

Its been two weeks. Harry has become Quidditch Captain. And I swear he's the craziest one yet.

Malfoy hasn't come up to me. Still throwing nasty insults at Harry and Hermione. He seems to have forgotten about me. Though no one has noticed but me.

I find it rather entertaining. Watching him, watching me. The way his eyes want me, not one of my so called 'friends'.

I want to open my arms and beckon to him. That is if it is me, Ron he only wants. I shall be his. Utterly and totally. No one locking us out of our love.

That is, if he loves me.

Only me.

"So what do you think of Professor Flitwick's idea that'll boast moral for our school?:" Lavender and Parvati haven't shut- up since breakfast.

"I think it'll be great." How charming stupid freakin' Harry Potter is.

How can he not see hoe they bat their eyes at him?

Disgusting.

I continue to do my work. Not at all concerned with anything.

Especially this Dance.

Flitwick's brilliant idea that in order to bring back the school's spirit, we have a Dance equivalent too the Yule Ball two years back. The girl's are all excited, same with the guy's. Though they tend to not squeal about it.

"Who are you going to ask Ron?" Harry says making sure Hermione is listening. I want to roll my eyes. Shrugging "Dunn, might no even go." I really don't.

Harry frowns. He's obvious with his impatience with me.

"Well don't wait too long this time." Hes says it too happily as though I were a 2 year-old child who needed to be chided for bad table manners.

Grabbing my books I get up to leave. I half- way expected someone to ask if I were offended by something.

No one did.

They'll go on for hours forgetting that I graced the room with them. Harry being their focus.

And when he's not around? Just ask Ron, he'll know.

BREAKING THE HABIT

Memories consume

like opening the wound

I'm picking me apart again

you all assume

I'm safe here in my room

(unless i try to start again)

I don't want to be the one

the battles always choose

'cause inside I realize

that I'm the one confused

I don't know why I instigate

and say what I don't mean

I don't know how I got this way

I know it's not alright

so I'm breaking the habit

Tonight

clutching my cure

I tightly lock the door

I try to catch my breath again

I hurt much more

than any time before

I had no options left again

I'll paint it on the alls

'cause I'm the one at fault

I'll never fight again

and this is how it ends

I don't know whats worth fighting for

or why I have to scream

but now I have some clarity

to show you what I mean

I don't know how I got this way

I'll never be alright

So I'm

Breaking the Habit

Breaking the Habit

Tonight.

-Linkin Park

I was sharpening my quill when the knife jerked and sliced my finger. The blood shone bright. I was spellbound staring at the dark liquid crimson. The pain felt good and gratifying. I found myself doing it again, and again. Liking the blood, imagining the bitter taste of desperation webbed in it.

It wasn't until my entire hand was covered in deep red marks that I finally came to my senses.

I quickly put the blood stained knife away.

I've been hiding my hand ever since that incident. I don't expect anyone to notice.

Harry wants to go over his Quidditch game plans with me. Ginny gets more into the conversation than I do.

"... Well the new seeker for Hufflepuff is second year, and I've heard she's quite good..." Ginny's eyes are shining with admiration. Harry's emerald green- eyes flash with indignity.

Hermione and Neville come over to sit near us.

I've been doodling on a piece of parchment for the last half- hour. accidentally I push my hair out of my eyes.

With my left hand.

"OMIGOD, Ron what happened to your hand?" Hermione has turned white and shrieky.

"Looks like he pissed off Crookshanks." Harry muses.

I want to roll my eyes at them and declare that I've decided to kill myself.

Hmm... Suicide. Never thought about that.

Dean and Seamus come over, striking and entirely new conversation.

I sit forgotten.

TOP OF THE WORLD

I wished I was smarter

I wished I was stronger

I wished I loved Jesus

The way that my wife does

I wish it had been easier

Instead of any longer

I wished I could have stood where you would have been proud

But that won't happen now

That won't happen now

Chorus:

There's a whole lot of singing thats never gonna be heard

Disappearing everyday without so much as a word somehow

Think I broke the wings off that little song bird

She's never gonna fly to the top of the world right now

Top of the world

I don't have to answer any of these questions

Don't have no God to teach me no lessons

I come home in the evening

And sit min my chair

One night they call me for supper

But I never got up

I stayed right there in my chair

Chorus

I wished I'd a known you

Wished I'd a shown you

All of the things I was on the inside

I'd pretend to be sleeping

When you come in in the morning

To whisper good- bye

Go to work in the rain

I don't know why

Don't know why

'Cause everyone's singing

We just wanna be heard

Disappearing everyday without so much as a word somehow

Wanna grab a hold of that little song bird

Take her for a ride to the top of the world

To the top of the world.

-Patty Griffin

Another week and I've still managed to remain a 'Prefect' and 'Keeper'.

Another week and I've still managed to numb myself to the sense of Doom.

No one cares.

It doesn't surprise me.

I found my own abandoned classroom. Its cold, so I have blankets. Its dark, so I have candles. Pillows and cushions. My own hiding place. I spend hours in here. Not showing up for class, Prefect duties, Quidditch practices. My Despair of Doom amounting.

In silence.

Everyone asks me what is wrong. Caring not for me, but for the Griffyndor reputation.

I shrug and go back to doodling.

I've become quite good.

I cut myself deep enough to cause unbearable pain and leave scars. No one will see them so I'll be OK.

Malfoy and I seem to find ways to walk past each other in the hallways. Most of the time I don't even realize it him unless i walk into him.

"Watch it, Weasel." Is the usual commentary.

All my 'friends' have given up talking to me. So I fall into

Silence.

Today in Herbology I cut myself by accident. I forgot where I was and pressed the knife harder. The skin breaking and that sweet liquid fire gushing out.

I think of it as a darkened beauty. A colour so seductive it has no longer come a mystery to why men die at the sight of such a beauty. Romance that is worth dying for has this as its core root...

"Ron?" Its said with such caution.

But I won't look up to see the warped confusion in those innocent eyes.

Instead I start to think more and more about the folly mortality of life.

What has it given me?

Nothing.

The thoughts are too much for me. Clutching my head with two hands I fall to my knees. Wanting to die, yet knowing nothing about death.

Someone's asking what is the matter.

I hear my voice whisper.

"...Rein n'est mort que ce qui n'existe pas encore..."

-Guillaume

...nothing is dead but what has never been...

I spent the last couple days in Madame Pomphrey's care. It seemed a little strange that she didn't ask any questions regarding mental health.

"He needs a few days rest, and cannot be bothered." Her curt voice would say this to my visitors.

I have to admit I do feel a lot better. Insane, but healthy insane.

I'm walking down the stairs, heading to the Commonroom in order to get my missed work from the others.

I'm blinking in mere shock of seeing the blonde- haired cold blooded ferret walking up to me. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he's staring up at me in the most concerned face. The sneer and mockery gone. Not leaving a mark.

Once I get down the stairs and stand over him, he places both his hands on my shoulders and tiptoes to kiss me. His silken lips make me want to... I have not a clue.

I want to touch him. Opening his lips a little, tongue traces his bottom lip, bringing forth a deep throated moan.

Pulling back, he looks dazed, yet alert. I'm still gathering my senses.

"You're still a filthy Mudblood lover." He sounds disdainful.

Laughing I pull him close. "No, just the Madman."

pressing my thumb on his bottom lip our eyes lock.

"I still hate you." He's warm.

"You should smile when you say that."

"Why?" He smells like something that I've never had before.

"Why not?"

Harry and Hermione won't leave me alone. Maybe if they would talk to me, instead of over me I could stomach it better. But they won't and so I am stuck trying to not pound their faces into the ground.

I seem to always find myself thinking and wishing of my little room. Where I can lay or get laid in my cushions. Either one is appealing.

Harry and Hermione walk with some Hufflepuff acquaintances. I drift off.

It's been two months since mine and Malfoy's 'fun' has begun. I remember the first time I dragged him into my hide- away.

"What the hell is this, Weasel?" Cold and desolate. Just dying to be kissed.

The way my tongue rummaged his mouth. Kissing and suckling neck. His body willing to submit to me.

Stepping away from him I asked the inevitable question.

"Have you ever done this before?" I sure the hell haven't.

He smiled apologetically. "Only with a girl."

I understood. Stupid me. All I was was an experimentation. Also I realized that I'm rather an ideal one, being that if anyone should ever find out that I'm having a homosexual affair with none other than my best friend's enemy, The notorious Slytherin Draco Malfoy, I would deny it. After all with all the Weasley children, no one will ever question my heterosexuality. So really I am in the clear.

I hadn't realized that I had turned away from him. His arms wrapping around my waist, his body flat against my back. His moist lips on the back of my neck.

"If it matter I'm a virgin in this too." His voice made goosebumps.

Turning towards him, running my fingers through his pale hair. His delicate features sharpen as I turn him away form me. I whisper in his ear.

"You better make this good. Otherwise I'll get you back."

He laughed.

The sight of his naked pink fleshed body embarrassed me. His cheeks coloured at my own nakedness. The first uncertain touches, erection admanant. The way he shivered when I ran my fingers over his nipples and upper torso to his tight stomach. Grabbing onto my wrists before I traveled further downward.

"What?" I was vaguely annoyed.

He peered into my eyes. "You do realize that it'll hurt more unless we have some sort- of lubrication."...Hmm... I had no idea what he was saying.

It must've shown on my face. Sighing he explained. "For women the body produces a natural body fluid that makes intercourse enjoyable. However for guys they need a supplements for the absent fluid. Without it intercourse is painful." I stared at him than asked the stupid question.

"...What kind of fluid do we need?"

He stared at me.

"You mean my saliva!" I was more than shocked. I was stunned.

He blushed. It took me a couple of moments to recover.

"OK." The words were croaked. He swallowed and nodded.

I got down on my knees, while he stood there awkward. The lust gone to be replaced by fear. His organ rather a surprising size. I didn't know exactly what to do.

"Just put it in your mouth and try not to choke." He instructed.

I did just that. The taste was rather interesting. And I did nearly choke. But that was his fault, with his hand clutching my hair and his body thrashing towards me. He finally pulled me back.

"..go...the cushions...." He was panting pretty hard. His organ glistening with my saliva.

"Oh, but you taste so good!" I teased, leaning to put my mouth back over it.

He shoved me back. " I SAID GET ON THE FUCKIN' CUSHIONS." His grey eyes darkened and bulged out. His mouth contorted with meanness. I figured it would be best to do as he asked.

When I did he kissed me, while looking considerably calmer.

Looking down at me, he told me "Relax... I'm about to hurt you."

I nodded and closed my eyes as his lips traveled down my face and then eventually to my naval. I felt what must've been his finger enter me. A gasp was all I did. Kissing my lips he said again. "Relax."

After a couple of probes it doesn't hurt anymore. In fact I think I start to moaning at that point. Feeling a pleasure that I couldn't quite understand.

Than suddenly his fingers were out of me, a definite groan came out of me at their absence.

Malfoy waited until I opened my eyes to lick off his fingers.

I made a pathetic half whimper sound. He laughed, crawled up to my face and kissed me.

"Lie on your front."

When I obliged, he situated himself behind me with his hands on my hips. Spreading my legs apart, a seering pain shot through my entire body.

I screamed.

Malfoy ignored it and continued to thrust into me. Moaning and groaning. Hurting me.

I lay curled in a ball, crying after it was done. Malfoy had gotten up and dressed. Without saying a word, until he reached the door.

"I did tell you to relax Weasley." No emotion. Nothing.

Even now after two months of that aggressiveness, nothing. And I still can't forgive him. But the pain, pleasure is too good that I cannot deny it. He loves my scars that I leave myself. Often asking if he could do it to me, allow him to taste the blood.

The one thing I will not let him do to me.

The Dance is coming up. But I know better than to ask him.

I thought that we could love each other. That he could be my secret lover.

Alas, that is not meant to be. He wants to own my body. For being Harry Potter's best friend. For being another male. He aggressively hurts me in the beginning and middle of 'fucking' as he so fondly calls it.

No love has he for me, Ron Weasley. And yet I still manage to delude myself that I love him when we are in the same room alone. Hate him at all other times. The bruises he leaves on my body along with his scratches and bites, visible to no one. Colliding with my cuts so perfectly.

Yet at the end, he sometimes allows himself to linger and kiss me. Declaring that I am his and no one else's.

RISE

Rise

Throw away

The charade of your life

Let the flame of my heart

Burn away

Your complacence tonight

I command you to rise

Wash away

The decay of your life

Feel the light of your eyes

Find the way

Through the darkness tonight

Fearing no one

Do your really think I covet like you do.

Chorus:

Come, take me away

Remove the fear from my eyes

Feel the flame of my heart

Burning away

All conversation tonight

Hearing no one

Am I precious to you now

Now rise

Turn away

From the shame of your life

Feel the light form my eyes

Offering

Consolation tonight

Fearing no one

Do you really think I want it like you do

Chorus

Now, I cannot stop this

Pure emotion

Falling from my eyes

You are indicating

Liberating

Saviors of my soul

-Disturbed

I watched today as Ernie McMillan asked Hermione to the Dance an hour ago. Once she said 'yes' and he walked away, I could feel nearly everyone in the Great Hall staring at me as I continued to eat. By the time I had finished Hermione had already run away near to tears. Harry is still mad at me, along with everyone else.

However, Malfoy was pleased. I caught his eye for the first time in public. The mockery in his eyes being too much for me.

And so for the past half- hour I've been walking aimlessly around.

I wonder if I should find a new hiding place? Seeing as my old one has become the meeting place for Malfoy and mine's 'fucking' sessions.

I go into an old 'Girls' bathroom. The one that is haunted by Moaning Myrtle.

Dingy and depressing, the leaks and broken tiles making it impossible to stand in one place.

I move to one of the cracked mirrors. Dusty with spider webs. The bright hair and blue eyes. Unchanged, except for the hardness of the eyes.

And if you could the hidden hickey below my collar.

I notice the way that my hair has grown long. But unlike most of the redheads in my family my hair has darkened. I would have never noticed if Malfoy hadn't made a comment on it the other day.

I have to admit that I love being touched by that bastard. The hands that are so perfectly kept. I love the cold way his eyes are, how they bore into my face as I writhe under him. Vulnerable and completely his in those moments where Time doesn't seem to matter. I groan and wriggle violently. I mumble things that make no actual sense.

I love the way no one will ever think once that I could be as self- destructible as I am. Not even Malfoy when he nips at my cuts, making lewd comments can't secretly imagine the torn- up ligaments of sanity.

No. No one can know.

Even the hints that I undoubtedly give does nothing. My lack of notice in the details of things. My slow uptake to emotion. Lack of interest in everything. Including Quidditch.

Staring into this cracked mirror is doing nothing to help me. The grime and cobwebs are doing nothing but add to its ugly charm.

Its strange to know that the cobwebs are not making me anxious.

If I do not have spiders to fear...

Than what do I have?

Malfoy is waiting at the end of the hall for someone.

Yet seeing Parkinson fly into his arms does not manage to make the jealousy boil over in my veins. Instead an iced cold fills my h4eart. I continue on my way, walking past them to the corner, Malfoy's cold grey eyes burning a hole in to my back.

I'm on my way to the library to finally do some homework. Walking into the room I'm still awed after all these years by the magnificance of the books. Lined up with no spaces on the walls. Sunlight pouring on them making the spines shine.

The smell is great.

I have truly gone mad.

Taking out parchment and textbooks I dig around for my quill and ink bottle.

"Here."

I look up into dreamy dazed eyes. The blonde hair making the face seem translucent. Holding out for me a yellow quill and ink bottle. I still am amazed by the way she always looks. Eyebrows pitched to give her a permenently surprised mad person look.

Thanking her I grab the quill and ink bottle, start to do my homework. Consciously aware that she is still watching. Luna LoveGood. Crazier than I am.

I continue to do the Herbology essay on the differences that atmosphere effects the rest poisonous plants.

"Why aren't you at Quidditch practice?" No warning.

"Um... because I'm doing my homework?" She is completely loony.

"Harry's mad at you."

"How'd you know?"

"He's coming right now."

Twisting around I see that she's right. Also registering that he looks as though he's ready to murder me. Scary looking with all that mud on his Quidditch robes.

"RON! Where the hell have you been." He's not looking for an answer.

"Uh... Homewor----"

"I don't care! We have Quidditch practice tonight. Its your fault that you didn't do your homework before." Quite the speech.

I take a deep breathe. "Harry, theres more to life than Quidditch. OK?"

He grabs my arm dragging me to the Pitch.

Everything I say ignored.

"Weasel, Potty having marital problems I see." Eyes that know everything.

Harry turns toward the voice. His rage at me throwing his anger out of proportion.

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up Malfoy. After all I'm amazed that you can still act like the ass you are when your father groveled like a child when he was caught." NO! No no no no.....

Malfoy colours a deep pink. The way his eyes flash in malice and vengence, makes itself known to me that I will be the one who will pay for this later.

Harry has already taken out his wand and is prepared to duel. However Malfoy has other plans.

Smiling coldly at both of us. "The only one who will ever grovel is your little friend Weasel there."

"What are you talking about?" Harry has his teeth gritted.

The cold grey eyes turn themselves to me for the first time. Smiling at my obvious discomfort.

"Why don't you tell him. Or should I be given the honour." statements that mean so much.

I want him to burst into flames to save myself from an unspeakable humiliation. Instead I go on the defense.

"I quite plainly don't have a clue as to what you are talking about you slimey git. Maybe being an inbred has finally gotten to you." This is the wrong move. Sad thing is, I know it.

"Why you fucking faggot!" Taking out his wand he attempts to attack me. He swishes his wand once, I can hear Harry yell out in alarm. But all has gone black for me. I can still hear but all I fell is an urge to double over and throw up. I can't see and I can't seem to speak either.

The shouting is loud and cracks of spells hitting walls is enough to tell me that there is more than two people dueling.