Disclaimer: If I were J.K. Rowling, would I have to post my stories here? Oh, I also don't own Galapagos.

Ain't it funny how we Pretend we're still a child?

Everyone's treating me like I'm a four-year-old who's just skinned his knee. They all keep whispering in this awful bittersweet way. Pity masked by false happiness, which they think comes off as empathy, but which really is just phony and annoying to me. I know they all mean well, but I wish they'd realize that soft voices and some food won't change the fact that Sirius is gone. I'm even tired of Ron and Hermione lately. They used to know everything about me. They used to know that I'd hate people trating me this way. Like I'm going to break any second. Like they can't come to close, or I'll die or something. But then, I don't want them close at all. All I want is to be left in peace, away from their voices. But not even Ron and Hermione know me anymore. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they're too busy trying to hide their constant snog-fests from me to pay attention anymore. Honestly, why would I care about that now?

Something stolen Under our blanket skies

I know he's gone. They all keep saying I'm in denial. What the bloody hell do they know about it?

Rescue me from me And all that I believe

I'm not in denial, I simply feel nothing, believe in nothing now. Neither physically nor emotionally. The fact is, I'd give my life to be able to feel this cold, peeling wall I'm leaning against, the scratchy blankets I'm lying on, the inevitable, wrenching pain I should be feeling for "my loss".

I won't deny the pain

I'm not denying pain, I'm welcoming it. But like so many other things, it's decided to abandon me, too. It's ironically funny how that's what hurts. The fact that nothing hurts.

I won't deny the change

But nothing changes here. In this state I'm in, in a dank upper room at Number Twelve. I just lie here. I lie on this creaky old bed in this dark room forever. The blank picture always laughing, and that thief of a black curtain constantly billowing behind my eyelids whenever I try to sleep. Oh yeah, I don't sleep anymore, either.

And should I fall from grace Here with you Will you leave me, too?

I suppose I always had good luck, well maybe luck isn't what you'd call it. Maybe compensation is a better word for it. Someone I love dies, and I'm compensated by being able to live. Yeah, some compensation.

Cut out your heart for keeps In an old oak tree

I vaguely realize the floorboards in my room creaking, and though my eyes are open (I think), I don't see her. I hear her putting firewood into the fireplace, then I hear a match strike. I don't understand why people keep re-lighting the fire in here, it's not like I feel the cold. Next, she'll put food on the nightstand, and whisper bittersweetly that I should eat something. Because, I'm dying, you know.
But she doesn't. I don't even have time to look at her face before I feel her throw her arms around my neck. And before I realize it, my arms are tightly around her small frame, too. I don't even have time to say her name before my face is buried in her scarlet hair that smells like vanilla and rain. I don't even have time to tell her to go away before I feel a painful pitch in my throat and I feel something hot and wet fall down my cheek and into her scarlet hair.

Hold me For goodbyes And whispered lullabies

She says nothing as my fingers grip her steady shoulder. She says nothing as I whisper "thank you" into her auburn hair. She says nothing, but only strokes the back of my head with her thin little fingers.

And tell me I am still The man I'm 'sposed to be

"You're going to be okay." She whispers, her warm lips against my ear. For the first time, I believe it when someone says that. She doesn't whisper like the others, to whom I'm just as good as dead. She doesn't whisper like I'm a child. She lets me know I'm still here. I'm still me, I'm not mad. All in that phrase I've heard nearly a thousand times, but has never sounded the same.
And still, I am lost. Though she has pulled me back from the edge of insanity, I am lost now, somewhere completely different. Has she been saving me like this all along? Has it always been her face I imagined, whenever I felt like this? I've faced death so many times, was it her who actually kept me from it? Suddenly, I am terribly confused.
"Ginny," I say as I pull away from her and roughly wipe away what tears are left on my eyes. My vision's still blurry, since I haven't worn my glasses in weeks. "Ginny, I erm.How do you feel about me? Well no, that's not the right, um. I mean, that is to say, er, us. I mean, no! Well, not necessarily no, but who's to say us is bad.er, I'm not making sense. Sense! That's it! It's just really common sense that we, er, should I say.you and I.were to, er.wait, let me start over-" but suddenly, her hand is clamped over my mouth, and though she's still blurry, I can see her laughing silently.
"Harry," she says, smirking.
"What?"
"Just shut up."

I won't deny the pain I won't deny the change

For the first time in weeks, I feel. I can feel her lips, hot on mine. I can feel her warm cheek under my thumb. I can feel her soft velvet tongue shock mine. I can feel her tremble as my cold hands flutter over her neck. I can feel her heart beat fast against my chest.

And should I fall from grace Here with you Will you leave me, too?

As I feel her arms pressed between us, I know this is wrong. I know her entire family could get here any minute. But I finally feel the pain of everything that's happened, and I find I need that feeling. I need it almost as much as I need her right now.
"I love you, Ginny." Is all I can say now. And as I hear myself say it, I know it won't be forever, because she'll eventually leave me, too. But as long as I can save her, as long as we can save each other, it's completely true, as it has been for so long.
"I love you, too." She says, as she breathes in sharply, and a single, sparkling tear parts her beautiful brown eyelashes. "I've been waiting forever to say that." She whispers into my mouth. Her hot breath makes all the pain go away. Suddenly, with those three little words, I don't need the pain anymore. All I need is her. I know it's wrong, and I don't care.

Too late to turn back now I'm running out of sound

I know I can't stop what happened between us, now, as I lie her down gently on the old creaky bed. I know all that can reach me now are her gasps, as she calls my name and grips the old wooden bedpost 'til her knuckles turn white. I know the only thing that exists now is her. The only thing I know now is her, my object of idolatry.
Her fire hair cascades over my face, as she rides with reckless abandon. Her chocolate-colored eyes flutter backward as my hands wander over her, exploring her every curve. I know I love her.
I can feel the pain of her blunt nails digging into my chest. I can feel the throbbing rhythm we both move to. I can feel her every movement, breathe her every breath, fulfill her every moaning desire as she completes my every shivering fantasy. And I am changing Changing

I hear her cry out in unison with me and I feel her spasm around me. I feel the small of her back underneath my fingertips as we ride it out together, to the rhythm of the old creaky bed and the pulse of our rapidly beating hearts. And I know I love her.
I feel her finally collapse above me, and I feel my arms wrap tightly around her, my angel. As I bury my fingers and my face in her vanilla/rain hair, and I feel all her weight, exhausted above me, I know I love her.
As she snuggles up next to me, her small body fits perfectly in my arms. I move a tendril of flaming hair from out of her eyes, and just look at her. I could look at her forever, smiling like this at me.

And if we die right now This fool you love somehow Is here with you

I kiss her forehead, and entwine her tiny fingers in mine, knowing I love her, and knowing that puts her in danger. But I'll save her. I'll save her from anything, because she saved me tonight. She save me from madness, by the madness that is her. I know I love her, and I'm ready and willing to brave all hell to prove it, as I hold her even more closely to me.

I won't deny the pain I won't deny the change And should I fall from grace Here with you Will you leave me, too?

I don't want her to leave me, and I won't let anyone take her, Voldemort or otherwise. Because, as she falls asleep, I know I need her. Because, as I hold her tighter, I know how much I love her. But though I love you, Ginny, I can't help but wonder,

Will you leave me, too?