Howling ghosts they reappear,
In Mountains that are stacked with fear,
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.
Zacharias Smith was never the man to make the sacrifice play.
He's a coward, and he knows so, but he pretends otherwise.
She's afraid, and she knows so, and she doesn't pretend otherwise.
He can talk himself out of almost every situation he gets into.
She can't, and she just sits there in fear, waiting for the pain to stop.
He's afraid, he's afraid of what they'll do to him, so he does anything in his power to make sure they don't hurt him.
She's afraid, she always has been, and she always will be, and there's nothing in her power she can do to make them stop.
He lies awake at night, wondering why he's living such a dishonest life.
She cries herself to sleep, wondering if she'll wake up in the morning.
He has four scars, one on his hand from his owl, two on his right leg from a nasty Quidditch accident, and another on his neck, from detention, and he hinds them with glamour charms.
She has eleven scars, all of them from detention, and all of them carved so very deeply into her skin that no amount of charms or magic will heal them.
His armour is seemingly unbroken, no glitches, no dents, he's unbreakable, indestructible.
Hers is full of gaping holes and little defects, no protection, she's weak, vulnerable.
He sits next to her in Charms and he watches her shiver and shake, she's sitting on the edge of her sheet and her eyes are red and tired.
She sits next to him in Charms and she tries to work out how he isn't a nervous wreck, how his face is a blank emotionless sheet.
He doesn't understand why she lets the world see her vulnerabilities.
She doesn't understand why he wears a mask to hide his true feelings from the rest of the world.
During dinner, he sits next to her, and notices a small cut on her forehead, dry blood sitting on the wound. He wipes it away with his handkerchief and briefly smiles at her.
During dinner, she sits next to him, hiding her head in her hands after another Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson and being partnered with Pansy Parkinson. He wipes away the blood and for the first time in a year she manages to smile.
He has a heart of ice, and a sense of indifference.
She has a heart of gold, and a caring nature.
He notices that she has the prettiest blue eyes, dark, dark blue, not the usual subdued sky blue, and the softest blonde hair.
She notices that he has really quite nice chocolate brown eyes and the sweetest golden brown hair.
He thinks of her and he feels weak, powerless, like she's the dent in his armour now.
She thinks of her and she feels slightly stronger, safer, like he's mending her broken spirit.
She's melting away in his ice cold heart.
He's indenting his name into her solid gold heart.
He's always thought of himself as unbreakable, indestructible, and then he sees her and he's almost willing to drop on his knees in surrender for her.
She's always thought of herself as this china doll that people seem to always drop and smash into tiny pieces, and then she sees him and she's almost willing to stand up and fight for him.
It makes him mad that he feels like this about someone, but he can't be mad at her, he can't, no, he's mad at himself.
He's a coward for the first time in his life is thinking about someone other than himself.
She's afraid, and not for the first time in her life she's putting someone else before herself.
The thought of her getting hurt makes him sick to his stomach, but then day after day he watches the very thing happen and all he can do is sit by the sidelines and wait for someone else to do something.
He might be changing, but he's still Zacharias Smith and he's still a coward.
She sits there and let's curse after curse, hex after hex hit her, and she bites her tongue to stop herself from crying out in pure agony. She just lies there and waits, waits for the sweet release to take over her.
She might be changing, but she's still Hannah Abbot and she's still afraid.
He watches her collapse to the ground and he has no choice but to walk away.
She passes out and the sweet release takes over her.
He visits her in the Hospital Wing and allows himself just this one moment to let his mask down and he kisses her on the cheek.
"I can be brave for you."
She's in the Hospital Wing for a few days and while she's somewhere between the realms of reality and dreams she sees him walk up to her and kiss her on the cheek.
The softest, most smallest of smiles grows on her face and somewhere, somewhere in her very core she knows that after everything, maybe, just maybe, she'll be okay.
He can be brave for her. He knows so, well, he thinks so, and he knows he can't have second thoughts but screw it.
She can be strong for him. She knows so, well, she hopes so.
She's taught him how to do so.
He's taught her how to do so.
He watches her and he watches her inhale and close her eyes before they hurt her. And he knows in the pit of his stomach he can be brave for her.
She watches him and she watches him compose himself and blink away any emotion whatsoever. He puts on his mask and she knows that in the very bottom of her soul, she can be strong for him.
Zacharias Smith, the liar, the coward, can be brave. He can be brave for her.
Hannah Abbot, the weak, the afraid, can be strong. She can be strong for him.
He breaks.
They're standing there, towering over her, casting curses he's never heard of and hearing her scream even louder than ever before.
"STOP!"
He yells at the top of his lungs, and he gulps, he's having second thoughts, hell, who wouldn't? But he sees her lying on the ground and then he knows.
He just knows.
"I'll tell you everything you want to know, just don't hurt her, alright?"
Zacharias Smith was never the man to make the sacrifice play.
I can be brave for you.
And as the world comes to an end,
I'll be here to hold your hand,
'Cause you're my king and I'm your lion-heart.
AN: Okay, that was a lot shorter than I normally write but oh well, hope it was just as god if not better.
Kinda, sorta, based on King And Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men.
Again for Eloise, who I write a majority of my things for.
Last but not least, I don't own anything, all credit goes to JK Rowling and the wonderful reality she created!