Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do NOT own the poem.

I knew a boy who liked to draw

He drew things nobody saw

He was most artistic late at night

In the bathroom out of sight

His drawings were Different

No pen nor paper

But needed a bandage now and then

We stood by the river under the stars

He rolled up his sleeves and showed me his scars

He looked embarrassed and stared down at his shoe

I rolled up my sleeve and said "I draw too."

GINNY"S POV

I have always been suspicious, he would have long sleeves, when he didn't he used glamors.

If I was him, I would have too.

May, 14th, 1996

I sat on the grass, Harry next to me, back to the tree branch we were leaning on, hands intertwined, shoulder to shoulder. We stayed out at the lake.

It was around six, no one was out, everyone at the great hall for dinner, Harry had said he wanted to talk to me after I was finished eating, he looked nervous, but hid it well.

So, obviously, I scarfed down a chicken leg and gulp down my pumpkin juice, (I started coughing as it went down the wrong tube), in a matter of time, then I grabbed Harry's hand and practically dragged him here.

I looked at Harry, he was staring straight ahead, then he took a shaky breath. He seemed to decide it's finally time to tell me.

"Just don't judge...Or pity me." He said, his voice barley a whisper.

"Okay." i say, my voice barley a whisper as well.

"I-" he shakes his head, and sat straighter. He pulled his hand away from mine, and rolled up his shirt sleeve, and muttered a spell.

Then I saw

Scars.

straight lines, some bright red, other a pale line.

He cut himself.

"I cut myself." He didn't meet my eyes.

I clear my throat, and swallowed, to clear my ears, because it felt as though someone stuffed cotton in it. "I use to cut."

"What?"

I hummed a bit, "I use to, after the chamber incident, I only did it three times, I made nine cuts in all. I stop though.'' I add again.

"I still do...Since I was eight."

I look away, I might give him a sympathetic look, but, then I look back at him, he's staring at the water again.

I can't help it, I lean forwards to his face, and leaned in, kissing him, he kissed back.

Harry Potter, needed a day off from being Harry potter. I thought dryly.

I don't know which is worse

The one I love hates himself

Or

The ones that He loves are oblivious.