In memory of Heath Ledger In memory of Heath Ledger

"Kat Stratford: You know, you can't just buy me a guitar every time you mess up.
Patrick: I know, but there's also drums, bass, and maybe someday a tambourine."

Harry was extra bored. In muggle studies they were reading out the poems they had all written. Sat at the back he could see Ron cosyed up with Lavender. It looked as if he was stroking her leg under the table.

Hermione was called up to read hers.

Standing out at the front of the class, she stared down at her paper.

And started to read.

"I hate the way you talk to me,

and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive your car.

I hate it when you stare.

I hate your big dumb quidditch games,

and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick;

it even makes me rhyme.

I hate it, I hate the way you're never right.

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

even worse when you make me cry.

I hate it when you're not around,

and the fact that you didn't call.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."

Then she ran out of the classroom crying.

And Ron followed.

He found her in the a deserted corridor.

"Im Sorry Hermione" Ron said quietly.

"Just leave me alone." She whispered, "Please."

It wasn't time for their movie perfect ending, so Ron left.
Besides, Hermione didn't want a guitar.