DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, or Why Can't I?. (Oh, and there's a line in the song that says "Haven't f***ed yet, but my head's spinning". I replaced the swear with "just", 'cause I found a clean version that used that, but I'm not sure if it's actually the real "clean" lyric. Sorry 'bout that….

A/N: Spontaneous, I-wanna-write-something-but-don't-know-what-and-I'm-listening-to-the-perfect-song-for-this-couple sort of thing. Enjoy! R&R

Get a load of me, get a load of you

Walkin' down the street, and I hardly know you

It's just like we were meant to be

Flurries of snow swirled around me, clinging to my cloak and sparkling in my hair, catching in my eyelashes. Harry had fallen in step beside me a while ago, and we hadn't said a word, just enjoying each other's presence.

Harry looked so sweet, so vulnerable walking beside me, pure white snowflakes nestled in his ebony hair, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black jacket, head bowed slightly, and a clear proverbial shield up around him, as though to keep him safe from any insults that he knew might be thrown his way.

Hogsmeade was coming into view, but still, we said nothing.

I know him better than he thinks. I know when he's about to fly into temper. I know how to bring him out of his brooding moments. I know what makes him smile. I know his sense of humor. I know exactly how he felt when he thought he might be being possessed.

It's just like we were meant to be.

Holding hands with you when we're out at night

Got a girlfriend, you say it isn't right

And I've got someone waiting too

Over the past two weeks since that walk into Hogsmeade, we've become better friends. He comes to me with his problems and his pains. He sits with me at mealtimes, and he's truly taken the time to find out all the things he didn't know before about me.

It's after curfew, and we're sneaking back from a walk to the kitchens for some essence of Murtlap for our hands. My scars will fade eventually, but at the rate Harry's going…the words I must not tell lies will be engraved on the back of his hand forever.

He's go a grip on my hand under the Invisibility Cloak, partly to keep me covered, but I half think there's something else.

But he has Cho, and I have Michael, our Ravenclaws.

Michael's sweet, really...but he's not...he's not Harry.

And I've got someone waiting too.

What if if this is just the beginning?

We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming

Maybe this is the beginning, though. It can only get better from here. The end of the year will come soon enough, and if the rumored curse against the Defense job still stands, Umbridge will be gone by next school year, and maybe we'll get a brief period of peace. Or maybe it would be better if Voldemort finally made his move, so the Ministry would know Harry was right all along.

It's the beginning of the war, but it's also the beginning of a friendship - and maybe something more - that Harry and I have. Something to last forever.

We're standing outside, drenched a warm, early-spring rain. March is quite dreary this year. Our hair is plastered to our faces, our clothes cling to our frames…so what the heck? I think as I push Harry playfully in the lake. He comes up spluttering, teeth chattering, and pulls me in.

It's like this in more than one sense:

We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming.

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?

It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it

So tell me

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

I plopped on my bed that night, after showering and wrapping myself in one of Bill's old jumpers, staring out at the rain and feeling a familiar constriction in my chest as I thought about Harry. It's always like this….

Hermione came bursting in cheerfully, and threw herself down next to me, her cheeks eyes sparkling.

"How've you been? I notice you've been spending an awful lot of time around one certain black-haired, green-eyed git lately," she added good-naturedly, wearing an I-Told-You-So look with infuriating familiarity.

"It's…." I struggled for words to describe what I had been feeling.

I rather consider myself pretty good with words, but I simply couldn't speak.

"It's…nothing."

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Isn't this the best part of breakin' up?

Finding someone else you can't get enough of

Someone who wants to be with you too

It's an itch we know we are gonna scratch

Gonna take a while for this egg to hatch

But wouldn't it be beautiful?

Michael and I broke up just days later. He was mad about Ravenclaw loosing to Gryffindor, but he also claimed I was spending too much time around Harry for his liking.

Harry and Cho weren't far behind.

But I still had Harry. It was bound to happen anyway….It's the best part of breaking up, when you know it can't last, and there's someone else with whom something beautiful…might…just maybe…be blossoming.

But wouldn't it be beautiful?

Here we go, we're at the beginning

We haven't just yet, but my heads spinning

It wasn't much…but it was a beginning. He wanted to kiss me, I just know it.

And he probably would have, too, if my prat of a brother, Ron, hadn't yelled at him to get his arse up to the common room so that Hermione would help them with their homework.

We hadn't even so much as kissed, but when he'd left, I had sunken down the wall of the hallway, my head reeling.

We haven't just yet but my head's spinning.

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?

It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it

So tell me

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

High enough for you to make me wonder

Where it's goin'

High enough for you to pull me under

Somethin's growin'out of this that we can control

Baby I am dyin'

I was ten feet off the ground, walking on clouds.

He'd kissed me!

Finally!

We'd been standing in the hallway, just a few paces away from the office of the Toad. We'd been talking about his detention, and I took his hand to examine it.

Suddenly, his finger was under my chin, drawing it up gently, and our eyes met. My chocolate ones never left his emerald irises as we moved closer, finally closing as his lips touched mine.

They were soft and unsure and a little clumsy, and slightly chapped, just as mine were, but it was perfect.

He will be the death of me.

Baby I am dyin'.

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?

I tried to tell Hermione about it, but again, words completely and utterly failed me and I settled for grinning like Umbridge had just left the school, and simply gazed out the window at the empty Quidditch pitch.

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?

It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it

So tell me

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

A/N: It's rushed, and probably horrible. Review and tell me what you think, though!