Title: Protest for me, Sweetness
Author: Anney
Rating: PG/PG13
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Hermione/??
Summary: Monologe to Hermione, after the war
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warning: Can my lack of a beta count as a warning? Well, it should.
AN: No idea where this comes from. Nor do I have any clear idea as to who's talking. Take a guess. Any guess. I suppose it doesn't really matter who it is, does it? Just a ficlet, nothing big. Maybe there'll be more to it, one day. Maybe not. I can be reached here: Getasimp [at] aol [dot] com for any comments you might want to send me. Enjoy. Or not. shrugs
###Protest for me, Sweetness
###
It's all about you in the end. The way the sun shone in the sky the day your world ended. How unshed tears make your eyes so much brighter. How I would plead with god to let me see your pain is it flowed in liquid down your cheeks.
###
And life goes on winding its way around our throats. We grow old and one day die. Hoping that we've made a lasting impression. Life long repression, all spilling out on the ground at the feet of a god. And yet, in the background of the screaming pain the only focus is you. You and you alone.
###
Bewitched by your smile; laughing eyes turned toward others. People undeserving of your beauty. Understated and hidden as it was. As it is. The way it should be. Only one person in this world is deserving of you, no one else is good enough.
###
In the beginning there was pain. Agony and torture for you, for him. For all those that denied the power of someone so great for so long. He was a whirlwind of hate and anger that all those that were not loyal were made to endure. He is pain for those that don't believe. But you know that in the most intimate of ways.
###
Everyone died. Everyone but you. Mudblood. Muggleborn, and still the most powerful witch of your class. What you lacked in power you made up with knowledge. Books hold all the answers. Except the most important ones. Questions you've screamed out over and over. So much pain in your voice, love. So much anger.
###
It starts out small. Tiny little things given to you by others. You can't be trusted out in the world alone; you might do something foolish. Like try to start a rebellion. Can't have that now, can we?
###
Like before it starts out small. Hatred for all things you are forced to endure. Yet it grows into something more. You hate to be alone and all the people you love have left. Dead and left rotting as examples of what happens to those that cross the Dark Lord. Everyone you once knew; gone. Everyone but me.
###
And as time goes on things change. Your voice grows dimmer in its protests of my caresses. Your eyes change from hate to acceptance. The first steps in the path to freedom. Even if you don't believe it.
###
End (?)