A/N: Here is just a little "fanfiction that has incorporated song lyrics" that I came up with when I was having a little strum on my acoustic guitar this morning. I love this song, so all credit to this little piece of work must go to Regina Spektor. Her songs inspire me. The song is actually called "Samson" and I recommend you to have a look. I am also thinking of writing a series of one shots all started off with this creation, so if you have any ideas, post me a review or a pm. It is all for your enjoyment anyway.

Disclaimer: Belongs to JK. Nuff said.

You are my sweetest downfall

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first

She took a long and prolonged intake of breath – more of an inward sigh than anything else. Three years had passed since she had stepped foot out of Hogwarts and suddenly everything seemed so normal. Normality is what she had wanted ever since the whole fiasco had started. She had wanted to live long enough to start a family. She had wanted everything to have a stable office job and a mediocre marriage. But now, all she wanted was for everything to return to her idea of normal.

Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go

She longed for the excitement that he brought with him. She loved the cheeky, impulsive-driven glint in his eye. She loved his normality and not the normality cards that life had dealt her. So, she did what she did best. She wrote. She allowed her imagination to take a hold of her and her feelings streamed out of her and inked themselves onto the parchment pages of her diary.

She had married the year after she had left Hogwarts and she had settled for someone who loved her. Compromising for her husband wasn't something she was proud of, but at least then she could start to pave her path to normality. His name was Ben. A simple British name which reflected purely in his personality. He was normal. Back at the time, normal is what she wanted no matter what shape or form it was delivered in.

Normal also distracted her from what she truly wanted. She wanted what every other woman wanted. She wanted him. There was a slight difference in her that separated her from all the other women – she wanted him for him and not for the fame that he basked in ever since he left the womb.

Your hair was long when we first met

The first time they spoke. His hair masked his face – almost shielding himself from the world. And it was from that moment that she knew that normality isn't what she wanted. There was something about him that completely intrigued her. He drew her in with his misty eyes and his jet black mop that made him easily pass for a girl. It was all part of the big plan allegedly. That's what she had teased him years later.

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed

Samson is what she had called him. Samson, after the Herculean figure, who is granted tremendous strength by God to combat his enemies and perform heroic feats unachievable by ordinary humans. That's what he was, right? There was no sense in his Wizarding name. There was no sense in his Muggle upbringing. What he was, was and still is beyond anything that a Warlock could conjure up. He was a hero, after all. He had performed things that only normality could dream of.

She had written about the adventures they would have together. The adventures that would reflect in their intense past. She wrote about a time when he took her swimming in the sea at night, just because he wanted to. She wrote about a time when she had been blindfolded and then unveiled in front of a library he had built, all because he had felt like it. The more and more she wrote – the more and more she longed to be in this "time" and the more and more reality became the past. The dream became the reality. She would wake up in the morning and immerse herself in her imagination. It was a haven from the world of cruelty and love that she had made around herself.

And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once.

He had several biographies written about him in his time. About his struggle to defeat the Great Voldemort and about how he did it all by himself. She scoffed. She knew the truth. These "stalkers" that he had acquired over the years treat these words as Bible, and yet they didn't know the truth. The "Bible" hadn't mentioned OUR struggle. The "Bible" hadn't mentioned how much they craved for it all to be over. The "Bible" hadn't mentioned them nearly giving up on society. He was a hero. But every hero has a downfall.

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first

She was a hero in her story. They had saved the world together and they had lived happily ever after. Love had shielded them during the fight. Reality saw her losing her tether. Reality had saw her growing sick and old before her time. Love hadn't shielded her from anything. Her normality that she had desired intensely for all those years hadn't done her any good. But she was a hero in her own life. And he was her painfully sweet downfall. She needed him. She loved him before anyone else. She loved him for him.

Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light

Her stories kept her going. Her favourite one was when they fell asleep under the stars. She was alone at home. And he came in and swept her off to the middle of the countryside.

"Harry," she giggled, "Harry? Where are you taking me?"

"Shhhh," he silenced her through stifled laughs, "You'll see in a minute."

He took her hand and placed the other hand over her eyes so she couldn't see. She protested, "Where are we going?"

"One second..." he said.

She sighed.

"And we are here," he said as he took his hand away but regained a firm grip on her hand, "You can look now."

And there stood the most breath taking view she had ever seen in her life. He had took her up a hill and now she stood at the top. He was standing behind her and he curled his arms around her waist and snagged her closer. He breathed softly into her ear, "Surprise."

She smiled, "Thank you," she said breathlessly.

She turned her head to the right, and their faces became mere inches apart. She opened her mouth to speak. Soft, passionate lips silenced her and she melted into him. It was brief and chaste, but sweet all the same. She tasted like strawberries. And he tasted like magic.

Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed

She sighed. The "Real" Hermione sighed. Fantasy seemed so close and yet it was so far away from what she had. She closed the curtains and climbed back into bed. When had longing hurt so much? When had love become so painful that she had retreat in veracity?

She had to let go of Ben. She couldn't hold him back and pull him back into the past she was trying to push herself back into. As she relived yesterday, he needed to move forward. He loved her and promised to stay with her but she couldn't stay with him. She loved him, but she wasn't in love with him. As she closed her eyes and she felt a familiar pair of arms encircle her. She felt at home.

"You're back," the deep voice breathed into her ear.

"I'm where I should be," she said in between sobs. She squeezed her eyelids together. She couldn't open her eyes again and leave him.

He played with her hair, "I love you, you know."

She smiled, "I know."

And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light
And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

She didn't open her eyes again. She was where she wanted to be all along. You could say that she willed herself to her dreams. It was an unwritten contract. She knew what she was letting herself into when she started to write. She knew she'd become engrossed in her words, and as soon as she realised that she couldn't have what she wanted to have, that she'd have to let go of what she had. Every little thing. Every little thing was dropped one by one until all she had was herself and her books.

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head

Age had deteriorated her appearance and had took her spring in her step. But in her books he and her were eternally youthful and eternal happy. Getting out of her bed, she took the papers and clambered back in. She hugged them tightly. Maybe if she did it for long enough, the words and reality she craved would become embedded and she could live it. Living a lie wasn't good, but it wasn't good enough. She had perfection and normality, but everyone always wants what they can't have.

And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

She knew that she might not have been as important in his life as he was in hers, but when she closed her eyes she felt complete. Nobody mentioned her passing. Nobody cared. She wasn't important. She was just like another person. People grieved, yes, but nobody stopped and thought. She was happy. They all knew that. They knew that she had compelled herself to her inevitable end and that she had to go. There wasn't a cure for a broken heart.

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first

She loved him first and she would love him lastly and eternally. Her downfall was that she loved him too much. Curse or blessing, it brought the end to her forgotten soul. You could say that her death was the passing of her body – she'd already died inside.

A/N: Don't cry too much. Please. Vote time, would you like a sequal? A real life sequal or dream? None? What do you want? It is for you after all :)