How Have You Been?
Disclaimer: If you don’t like this, do not blame me. I did not write this chapter. LilithDrowning did (it’s the first thing she’s written in ages, so don’t think that if you go check out her stories that any of them have been updated this century.) Anyways... Harry Potter and all characters related to the little sucker belong to J.K Rowling. The awesome song "How Have You Been" belongs to that goddess Ani DiFranco. (can anyone else tell that ljp isn’t really writing this disclaimer?)
***
you could always hear the rub squeaking
of those two tree limbs
'til one day one of them came down
taken down by the wind
I sit here looking out the window. There are trees outside (yes. I am quite observant.) and looking at them, I see one missing a limb. I remember how that happened. Months ago. Maybe longer. There was a storm. It was the middle of the night and I was sitting up in bed, thinking of you. I always did. I still do, it seems. Why else would I be noticing that tree?
but on the one that's still there
you can still see where the bark was
rubbed bare
it's a metaphor if you know what i mean
I feel like the left over limb. One of them at least. The stronger part of me was ripped untimely away by a freak storm. A freakish girl, really. Frizzy red hair. Red hair. And here you always told me how ridiculous that color was. Like it had to be some mistake of nature. Just like those Gryffindors. And now what?
how have you been?
I wonder sometimes if you really are as alright as you seem. Are you sad sometimes too? I’m sure you never sit and think. I’m sure you never want to die. You have her. She can heal all your wounds. Apparently she is everything I am not. I must not have been very much.
me and you
and your girlfriend makes three
It’s sad, really, how I try to make you notice me, how I try to talk to you, how it was me who knocked those letters she wrote you behind your dresser. But it was an accident, really. And what proof does anyone have that it was me? I’m being vindictive, I know. It’s ridiculous. I should be ashamed of myself. You have eyes only for her anyway. I’m just the backdrop to your picture fucking perfect romance.
in the interest of even numbers
i will make myself scarce
i will make myself scarcely me
If I were to disappear would you even notice? And if you did, would you care? Maybe I will just up and go. You’ll be better off without me anyway. You’ll be better off with your cute little romance and your cute little Gryffindor and your cute little letters (that I didn’t toss behind your dresser. It was the wind) and your cute little... Everything!
Ugly little me will just go away.
but i'll be outside your window at night
pull up your shades
leave on your light
But try as I might I know that I’ll never really be able to leave you. Even if I left this school, if I left this city, if I left this country, hell, if I left this whole world and all it’s crap you’re the one thing I could never leave. I’d still come back. I’d still stand under your window and look up, hoping that you’d look back down at me. Hoping you’d at least come to the window so I could see your face without seeing hers.
I want to see your face.
i don't want to come in between
i just want to know
If your happy, then how can I not be? Right? Right?! All I ever thought I wanted was for you to be happy, happy, happy. And if what makes you happy is to make me want to die, to make me want to scream, to make me nothing, then so be it, right? I said it was what I wanted. I said I wanted your happiness
And you’re happy with her.
But I hope that you’re really not.
how have you been?
Even if you weren’t happy, it’s not like you would tell me. That would cause you to lose face. You have pride. Far too much pride. I wonder if she knows that. I wonder if she knows all the things I know. I wonder if she can see what I see and hear in your voice what I always heard.
I hope not, because I heard perfect love. I couldn’t stand to have anyone else receive that kind of love from you.
I’d die.
I might die anyway.
i leave for a living
I used to use boys and lose ‘em the next day. They’d buy me roses and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans and take me to Quidditch matches and carry my things for me... Then I’d just ditch them. I got bored. They were boring. Them and their desires and poems and disgustingly trite declarations of love.
Maybe I can treat you like one of them...
No. I can’t. But I can try.
music's just something i do
on my way out the door
You’re the only one who knew about my obsession with music, with singing, with the most beautiful sounds that could be coaxed from all sorts of objects, even those not originally intended to be instruments.
Who else do you think I’ll ever share my secret with? I can’t think of anyone worthy, lovable, or beautiful enough. Even when I sang terribly you told me it was lovely.
And you know what?
I almost believed you.
and i'd do almost anything once
something about you
When you came to me, when we...began, I was doing something I had never done before. I had never really loved before. I hadn’t wanted to.
With you I wanted to.
i think i'd do you more
if i had my way i'd stay here
and watch your hair grow for a while
And if you asked me to come back, as pathetic as this sounds, I probably would. If you asked, I’d be willing to sit and look at you, sit and watch your face, your body, your being.
Hell, that’s almost what I want to do.
it makes me smile just to dream of it
The memories I have are all that really makes me smile any more. I have no reason to be here. I keep saying that. I keep saying I should leave. So why don’t I? Why don’t I go?
how have you been?
Oh yeah. I’d never see you again.
***
The End
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Draco and Ginny belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros and various other corporations. They are being used here without permission and/or affiliation with the above. None of the authors listed here make any profit from these stories.