What you don't know, a harry potter fanfic

A new Songfic - Oneshot! I was inspired by the song "What you don't know" by Monrose, a german band. I love the song! While listening to it the idea just formed in my head and I had to write it down, though I do have two other stories which I should update... Well, here's the story anyway! I'd love to get reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

What you don't know…

There are many things you don't know. How to make a love potion correctly, for example, so that the girl for which it's meant doesn't has to burp whenever you say something to her. Or how to ask a girl out properly, you'll never be able to do that. You don't know how to spell insufferable correctly and you don't know that no! means exactly that, namely no!

You don't know that your charm has nothing to do with the way you behave around girls, but the way you behave around your friends. The loyalty, the strong connection, the helpfulness, the way you care for your friends, those things make you the boy… the man you are. And you don't know it.

What you don't know, is that your scars are beautiful...

11.30 p.m. I'm sitting in the common room, trying to suppress a yawn; therefore my eyes are getting teary and I have to blink a few times with my eyelids so that I'm able to see more than a blurry sheet of paper.

"Tired?" I glance up, taking in your appearance, the ruffled jet black hair, the hazel nut eyes behind a pair of round glasses, the lopsided grin tugging at your lips, before I look down again.

"No." I reply shortly, scribbling something on the paper. I'm late with my homework, something very atypical for me. Normally I do my work first thing after lessons. But not this week. Probably I'm too preoccupied with other things. My head duties are outgrowing me and I'm behind schedule. It's your entire fault anyway. You dragged me to this stupid Quidditch game and the party that had followed. And you wanted me to come along to Hagrid this afternoon.

From the corner of my eye I see you peeking at my sheet of paper.

"Are you copying my essay?" I ask intrigued.

"No!" you reply too quickly and way too innocently.

I snatch your parchment out of your hand and read aloud. "The eight golden rules for the disguising charm, by Lily Evans." I scowl at you and you look at me sheepishly.

"I have to revise it, though." You grin and I give you the paper back with a sigh.

"You're incredible."

"Well, I know that, but I like to hear it out of your mouth anyway." Your grin is stretching from one ear to the other and I have to smile myself. You have this ability to make everyone smile whenever you smile. This grin is contagious. Those dimples, that wrinkled nose, those bright eyes. I look at your face intently and not for the first time I notice the small scar between your eyebrows.

"What are you staring at?" you ask, frowning.

"You know, I always wondered where you got that scar from." I say absentminded, indicating with my finger to the little scar. You look at me, your face reflecting my surprise. Did I just ask that?

"Well, most people don't notice it at all, I didn't think you would." You state, looking at me almost pleased.

I feel my face getting hot. Oh great, now I'm blushing, the last thing I need.

To my relief you don't seem to notice. You seem lost in thought, your eyes focusing onto the fire, and I have time to gather myself.

"So, I still wait for an answer." I say eventually, my curiosity getting the better of me.

I must have pulled you out of your thoughts because you shake your head, one, two times and your gaze becomes intense again.

"My cat." You say, making me smile.

"Your cat?" I ask, tilting my head to the left, not knowing if I should believe you or not.

"Yes, my cat. I was five or six and I had this cat, Mucky was its name."

"Mucky?" I interrupt you and you grin sheepishly.

"Well, it was a dirty little cat and I wasn't that creative." I smile in return, warm and gently.

"So Mucky, eh?" I say, making you continue your story. I notice your eyes sparkle; they look golden because of the glistening fire.

"Yes, Mucky was a very alert kitten and sometimes it liked to visit me in my room, preferably at night, when I was asleep, sweet and innocent."

I scoff, interrupting you again. "You? Sweet and innocent?" I laugh at the mere thought and you look at me, your face in mock offence.

"You may not believe it, but I've been a very well-behaved boy. It's Sirius who's spoiling me." You stick your nose up into the air, your face showing nothing but mortification.

I nod exaggerated. "Sure he is." I grin. "I believe you."

I notice you peeking at me from the corner of your eyes. Then you shrug and grin back at me.

"So, where did we break off?"

"Where you've been innocent and sweet." I clarify, looking at you solemnly.

"Ah yes." You harrumph and go on. "So, one night, Mucky thought it would be funny playing with me while I was sleeping. Let me tell you, it was not funny. I woke up in the midst of fur and claws and hisses and…" you break off then, shaking your head. I try to hide my smile and look at you sympathetically.

"That must have been horrible." I say compassionately and you nod in agreement.

"It was traumatic. I've not been the same cat lover ever since."

I look at you for a long time, your messy hair, your slightly long nose, your angular features, your full lips. Again, I think you're beautiful. And you'll never know it, but the scar, and the history behind that scar, makes you even more beautiful.

What you don't know,
It's your imperfections always makes me whole.

Perfection - something no human can ever reach, and then again something everyone can be, at least for someone else.

You are this perfection to me, but you don't know it. You don't know that every bit of you is perfect, perfect for me. The perfect fit, the perfect match.

Imperfect - something every human is, something that makes someone stick out of a crowd, something that makes someone special.

You don't know it, but you are special, you stick out of a crowd. I'm aware of you every second you're in my reach. During breakfast, when you sit with your friends, when you laugh and joke with them, I'm aware of you. During lessons, when you sit in the last row and doodle on a piece of paper, I'm aware of you, although I can't see you. During night, when you sleep just next to my room, when you dream, when I hear you snoring, I'm very aware of you.

I'm aware of you when you are late for class and you stumble through the door, a stupid excuse leaving your mouth. I'm aware of you when you ruffle your hair in that smug, nonchalant way you use to do it. I'm aware of you when your kettle explodes during potions, well, everyone is aware of you, then. I'm aware of you when you prank other students or when you break the rules. I'm aware of you when you're too noisy or too saucy.

I'm aware of all this imperfections of you. And all those imperfections make you perfect. And they make me whole. The make me feel the way I feel about you. But you don't know it.

What you don't know,
is how I spiral down
Cause I can't speak whenever you're around

Drop.

My eyes follow the single raindrops leaving the grey clouds outside. It's only the beginning of Charms and I'm already bored. Although I usually like the class, today it's pure torture.

Alice sits beside me, scribbling away on a piece of paper. She then gives the note to Frank, who, after reading it, grins at her. I look back out the window.

Drop.

My eyes flicker to the empty place behind me, then to the door and back to the window.

Drop.

You're late for class, again. Maybe you don't even show up. I myself am hoping for the former.

Drop.

As the minutes go by I'm loosing my hope to see you. I let my head sink onto my left hand lazily, while my right hand plays with my quill. Up and down the quill goes.

Up and down.

Someone coughs and I can hear the drops falling down from high above to the earth.

Drop.

And the quill goes up and down.

Drop.

Up and down.

Drop.

Up and …

The loud squeak of the door interrupts the ringing silence of the classroom. Twenty one heads turn to the left simultaneously, looking for the culprit. I am one of the lookers, and I look, my eyes brightening. There, in the middle of the doorframe you stand, your hair messy, your brown eyes shining with mirth, your lips twitching, but you try to hide the mirth, the joy. You try to look earnest and sincere when you approach your seat behind me.

"'morning Professor." You greet Professor Flitwick, who stands on his stack of books, peering out behind his console.

"My apologises for being late, Professor. But there has been an urgent issue I had to take care of." You say nonchalantly.

"May I be informed about that issue, Mister Potter?" Professor Flitwick squeaks.

"I'm afraid I can't help you here, Professor." You reply charmingly. "It's very personal."

It seems like the Professor wants to say something else, but then he changes his mind. He closes his half opened mouth and glares for a moment in your general direction. Then he puts a smile onto his lips and looks around the class.

"So, Mister Potter missed a few minutes of the lesson. Who can explain him what he missed?" He looks around whilst students duck away under his gaze, everyone hoping not to be picked.

"What about you, Miss Evans?" I look up to meet my Professors' eyes for a moment. My eyes flicker to my sheet of paper, where I had been supposed to take my notes. There are none. But that doesn't bother me much. I know the stuff we were about to learn already by heart. Muteness – charm. Easy enough.

I look back up and feel twenty one pair of eyes on me. One pair especially. It belongs to the person behind me. To you. You stare holes into my neck, your gaze intense. I can see you watching me from the corner of my eye. You never take your eyes off of me, you don't even blink.

You're here. You're right behind me. I'm aware of you. I can feel your presence. You take in all my senses. And suddenly I am mute.

"Miss Evans?" Professor Flitwick asks again.

I look back to you, big mistake. I open my mouth, but no sound is leaving my lips. You're around, and I can't speak. I feel my heart beating louder and faster. I feel the blood rush through my veins to my cheeks, colouring them in an unfavourable pink. You look back at me, your eyes unreadable, questioning me. I can see it in your eyes… you don't know my emotions, my reactions to you. You don't know I can't speak when you're around.

"Miss Evans, can you tell Mister Potter what he missed?" the Professor asks for the third time. Slowly, I shake my head, my eyes not leaving yours.

"No, I can't."

Again the ringing silence. Someone coughs; I can hear the raindrops falling.

Drop.

And it's not like me to hide behind a wall,
And it's not like me to fear before.

This is not me. This is not what I am. This is not my typical behaviour. And nonetheless here I am, doing it. Standing behind a wall in the sixth floor, hiding. But why? Because I'm scared? Probable. Because I don't want to face the truth? Likely. Because you stand on the other side of that wall, speaking with another girl? Certainly.

I stand here, petrified and not capable to move a centimetre. My eyes grow wider and wider with every second ticking by. My lips press together tighter and tighter with every word you speak. My balled hands shake more and more with every laugh coming from the girls' mouth.

A green monster is taking over my mind and heart, is clouding my vision. A green monster, so ugly and jet so full of power – jealousy. And, though this feelings came just minutes ago out of the blue, I hate it already. It's awkward and stupid and totally unsubstantiated, but nonetheless it's everywhere. My stomach tightens uncomfortably, my heart beats in an exaggerated fast velocity and my thoughts swirl uncontrollably through my head.

Is she just a friend of you? Is she your date? Or – the worst thing possible – your girlfriend?

I imagine you kissing her and although I don't even know what she looks like I think you deserve better. You deserve more. Me? I don't even have the right to think of myself as worthy enough for you. But certainly she isn't either.

My fingers press into the soft flesh of my hand and my head collides with the stone wall behind me while I sink to the ground.

"So, you want to do it?" I hear you ask and I feel like dying. She laughs lightly and when a soft yes comes out of her mouth I feel tears pricking in my eyes.

What you don't know,
I have studied the way you walk.

There are many ways to walk. You can walk slowly or fast, you can amble and roam or rush and hurry. Everyone has their own style, their own way to get from one point to the other.

When you walk, when you cross the room, it's something captivating, something magnificent, something that catches my attention.

You have this ability to rush through a room with elegance, with dignity. You saunter through the halls of Hogwarts with the greatest of ease, always graceful, always captivating. When I see you walk by you have this little spring in your step, like you always have when you're cheerful and happy. When you're sad, your gait is dragged, you barley lift your feet from the ground.

I see you entering the common room from my peripheral vision. I have a book in my hands, but I can't look away from you. You enter with big steps and when you reach the first armchairs you slow down, looking in all directions. When you spot me, sitting in a corner of the room I wave and you stumble over your own feet. You almost fall but you catch yourself the last moment. Sheepishly you brush non existent dust from your school uniform and then you look into my direction again, almost hoping I didn't see you adversity. When you see me grinning from ear to ear your cheeks become an adorable red and I'm almost in heaven. You tilt your head, looking like you'd have to decide something very important and then you walk into my direction. Your steps have this little spring again, and I like that much better than your sad, dragged walk. You're almost in front of me and I sit up a little straighter. Your gait is smooth and you wind your way through the many tables and chairs easily.

"Evans, did you just laugh at me?" you ask incredulously whilst you approach me.

"No, I was laughing with you." I reply quickly, looking back at my book.

"What did we laugh about?" you want to know when you come to a halt.

"I don't know. You tell me." I look back up and you grin down at me.

"And now you're laughing at me." I accuse him.

"I would never do such a thing." You answer, you expression scandalized.

"Sure." I reply, suddenly annoyed. I remember the girl, and want you to leave right away. But you're doing the opposite. You sit down beside me, your foot touching mine. I cross my legs to avoid the touch and lean over my book.

"What are you reading?" you ask and I can feel your breath on my neck. I stiffen and look up. I show you the title of the book without saying a word.

"Advanced Healing." You read out loud. "You want to become a Healer?"

I shrug. "Don't know yet."

We sit in silence for a few minutes, and then I look up.

"What about you? Do you know what you want to become already?"

You wave with your hand nonchalantly. "Sure." You grin at me, your eyes glistening.

"And?" I press on.

"I'm going to be your second husband."

I open my mouth to give you an answer but find that I have none. I'm momentary speechless. Several times I open and close my mouth, not able to give you a quick-witted reply.

"You're going to be…" I repeat your words, not having thought of something like that. "What did happen to my first husband?" I ask eventually, annoyed with myself for the stupid question.

"That's not traceable." You answer quickly and you give me this lopsided disarming smile. After a few seconds I have to smile myself. Sometimes you're unbelievable.

What you don't know is
I've already kissed you in the shadows of my heart.

We're alone in the common room, again working on our Head duties. It's after midnight and I'm exhausted. My back aches, my eyelids drop all the time and my fingers are tense from all the writing. I look at you, but you seem quite fit. Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, your tongue sticks out from the right corner of your mouth and now and then you ruffle your hair in that way only you can do it.

I sigh and close my tired eyes for a moment. When I open them again I see you looking at me. Your eyes sparkle and a small smile is tugging at your lips. I look at you, green meets brown and we stare at each other for a long, intense moment. Suddenly you let out a low whistle and you break eye contact with me. You shake your head and I look at you confused.

"What's wrong?" I ask you and you sigh deeply, as if my question was obviously very stupid.

"Ja-ames." I sing. "What is it?" I shift a bit so that I'm sitting right beside you.

You look at me out of the corner of your eyes and then you sigh again. This confuses me even more.

"Tell me." I plead, my mouth turning into a pout when you look at me in silence.

"This is making it much more difficult." You say hoarsely and I look at you, frowning.

"What?" I ask.

"This." He indicates at my face with his forefinger and I look like a big question mark.

"I don't understand." I reply, almost shamefully and lick my dry lips.

You let out another sigh. "Exactly what I'm talking about." You say. "Your lips." You clarify eventually. "When you pout like before, or when you… you lick your lips, it's just…" you break off, then, not finishing the sentence.

"It's just what?" I want to know.

You sigh for it seems the millionth time and you ruffle your hair in frustration. "It's just so hard not to kiss you." You say eventually, not meeting my eyes when you speak.

I look at you and it's like I'm in seventh heaven. Did you just say those words? Those words I've been needing to hear for such a long time. I can't help the smile which tugs at my lips.

You still like me. It's all I needed to know.

"I'm sorry." You say suddenly, looking back at me just when my smile vanishes. You're sorry?

"I didn't want to tell you, now you're probably mad at me. I don't know what came over-" I don't let you finish the nonsense you were about to tell me. I just kiss you. I can feel you're shocked and I'm about to pull away when you slowly begin to kiss me back.

I feel your lips moving against mine, soft and gentle and warm and perfect, and the only thing I'm able to think is Oh my god, I'm kissing James Potter. I'm kissing James Potter! I'm kissing James Potter!

Your hand goes down to the small of my back and with this action you bring my body nearer to yours, but not near enough – never near enough. I can feel your warm, toned chest pressed to me and my stomach begins to tingle in the most perfect way. My hands sneak around your neck, my fingers running through your incredible soft locks.

The kiss becomes more intense, passionate and fierce. I feel your tongue caressing my bottom lip and I open my mouth, our tongues meeting in a way that makes my whole body shivering in delight.

Somehow you're suddenly on top of me. Your hands are everywhere, exploring my body and making my skin tingle. I can feel your body weight on me, but it's only adding to the pleasure I feel. Your lips press gentle kisses down my jaw line until out mouths find each other once more, kissing intoxicatingly yet again.

Finally we break apart, panting hard from the lack of oxygen. You smile down at me, your fingers caressing my cheek lovingly.

"You have no idea for how long I've wanted to do that." You whisper and I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips

"Why are you smiling Lily?"

I open my eyes all of a sudden, looking at you perplexedly. You still sit on the edge of the couch with me, but we're a bit apart. Your head is turned into my direction, but your body is bending over the table, which is covered with paper work. Head duties…

Comprehension dawns and I feel my cheeks getting all warm. Oh no, it had been a dream.

You look at me confused, thank Merlin, you don't know about my embarrassment.

"Are you blushing?" you ask incredulously, your face nearing mine to absorb me better. I can feel your hot breath on my face and my blush deepens, when I remember your warm lips on mine.

"No, I'm not." I say quickly, turning away from him.

My mind still clouded with the kiss I stand up and yawn.

"I think… I'm going to bed now." I say, glancing at you yet again. You only nod, observing me intrigued.

I can feel your eyes follow me up to my dorm. I kissed you… I kissed you in the shadows of my heart… and you don't know it.

What you don't know
is that I lie awake
wishing you were here tonight.

It's one of those nights… again. One of those nights, when it seems sleep doesn't come and there is too much room in my mind… too much room for you. Because all I am capable of thinking in those numerous nights is you. You fill my every thought; every cell of my body craves for you, only you. And I can't help it: I wish for you to be here, with me.

Engulfed in darkness, loneliness, coldness I lie in my bed, trying to force your image out of my head.

I try counting sheep, then niffler, but the niffler soon turn into Snitches, then brooms and I shake my head. You're everywhere. Your amazing chocolate coloured, warm eyes, your full lips, turned up into my most loved smile, your ebony, soft hair, the little scar between your eyebrows. You're everywhere.

I sigh heavily, turning onto my side, so that I'm able to look out the window. It's a beautiful night. A clear, inky sky, speckled with small, white dots – thousands of stars, far away. Illuminating the grounds around Hogwarts and the castle itself, the round full moon stands in the centre of the sky, its light touching my face, my eyes, almost blinding me – almost.

Somewhere a wolf howls, making me shiver.

The Forbidden Forest looks more threatening, more dangerous than during other nights, and again I wish you'd be here with me, holding me, warming me, bringing light into my darkness. I know I have no right to wish such a thing. I know you don't belong to me. I know I've had my chance. But I can't stop wishing.

What you don't know,
is when the moon and the sun collide
the morning comes.

The night drags on and on, long and gruesome. All the fears and doubts, from the depths of my heart confront me in the darkness of the night. Silent tears streak down me cheeks, making me feel even weaker, more helpless. I don't know why I'm crying anymore, I just do it, and it makes me feel so vulnerable.

I stand up, shivering when my warm feet meet the cold stone floor. I stand there for a moment, in the midst of my room, the only one awake, surrounded by darkness. I hug myself in an attempt to warm myself, rubbing my arms, my breath coming out in little puffs.

Slowly I make my way to the door, opening it soundlessly. When I enter the common room I am greeted by more darkness, more loneliness, and more coldness. Again a cold shiver runs down my spine, making the delicate hairs on my arms stand up, and I turn in spite of myself, feeling as if someone is watching me.

With my right hand I rub my tense neck, trying to force the uneasy feelings out of my body, out of my mind. I look out the window for a second, seeing the full moon unhurriedly vanishing behind the hills and first tracks of sunlight brightening the eastern part of the sky.

It's the time when it's not yet morning, but neither night anymore when I slowly begin to relax, feeling the anxiety leaving me. And when I look out for a second time, watching moon and sun collide, I see you hurrying out of the Forbidden Forest, Sirius and Peter in tow. And suddenly I realise, morning has come.

'Cause how would you know, how could you know?

I stand here in the common room, looking down onto the grounds of Hogwarts, this mystical, wonderful place, where I had the luck to meet you, get to know you. And it's here, when I stand in the silent room, watching you coming back to the castle after doing Merlin knows what, that I realise you don't know. You don't know that your scars are beautiful. You don't know that your imperfections always make me whole. You don't know how I spiral down because I can't speak whenever you're around. You don't know that I have studied the way you walk. You don't know that I have already kissed you in the shadows of my heart. You don't know that I lie awake, whishing you were here tonight. How could you know?

This time I won't be afraid to try.

I hear footsteps coming down the hall, laughter, someone saying the password to the Fat Lady. The portrait swings to the side and I look up to see you and your friends enter the common room. You all look grungy and tired, but you laugh and make jokes all the same. You don't seem to notice me so I stand up and clear my throat.

You're the first one to look up and for a short moment I notice worry flickering through your eyes. You turn to your friends and I hear Peter mumble "Oh-oh" under his breath.

You look back at me, but it's Sirius who speaks to me first.

"Morning Lils." He says cheekily, grinning widely.

"Morning guys." I reply, greeting all, but looking only at you. But you wouldn't meet my eyes. You only look at your feet, saying nothing.

"So, it seems you're an early riser." Sirius states, attempting small talk.

I nod. "It seems." I say shortly. He, too, nods and looks up to the boy's dormitory.

"Well, if you'll excuse us. We didn't get much sleep the last night and…" he trails off, not finishing the sentence but indicating with his left hand to the general direction of the dorm. I don't say anything. I just cross my arms in front of my chest. You follow my movement, but when you see me watching you, you look away, running a hand through your messy hair.

Sirius is still all smiles and dimples. "It was nice chatting with you Tiger Lily, see ya." He waves and turns to the staircase, Peter following him. You linger in the middle of the room for a moment longer, peeking at me from under your lashes. But then you too, turn.

It's now or never – I decide. This time I won't be afraid.

"Er… James." I call after you, taking a step towards you and holding a hand out to stop you from leaving, which is totally unnecessary, because I'm too far away to touch you. You stop nonetheless, and you turn halfway, so that you can look at me, your hand still resting on the banister.

"Yes?" you ask tentatively, your eyes guarded. You have a secret, but that's not relevant right now.

"There is something I need to tell you, something you don't know." I say and you turn. You look down to me for a long moment and then you approach me slowly. When you stop in front of me, your eyes shine with something that tells me, that it is okay. I take a deep breath and reach for your hand, squeezing it. You look down and then up again, meeting my eyes.

You don't know what I'm going to tell you. You don't know that I wanted to tell you all this for such a long time now. But this time I won't be afraid.

So now I'm gonna tell you everything.