Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I'm not really sure how this happened, to be honest. It's my first freeverse, but it was definitely fun to write and much easier than normal prose. It seems to me a little odd as well, though. Just to qualify, I only see this as one side of Ginny, the part of her that is at once hesitant about her feelings for Harry and at the same time fiercely determined. (Okay, I'm not making that much sense even to myself, so I'll let you actually read the thing now.)


You're waiting for your prince, darling,

But he'll never look at you that way.

Don't you know you're just the {little girl}

to him?

Unimportant, trivial.

Forgotten.

Your sister, the one you never had,

she tells you to make friends

with him.

And maybe he isn't such a s*t*a*r after all.

Maybe he's just an ordinary little boy,

and maybe

((just maybe))

you love him all the more for it.

But he'll never look at you that way.

And, well –

you've never been known for your patience.

Forget him. There are better people out there.

People who

a-p-p-r-e-c-i-a-t-e you

Boys who call you BEAUTIFUL.

Perhaps it goes to your head a bit.

And all girls deserve

a bit of fun.

It becomes a g/a/m/e

of sorts:

How quickly can you make their hearts go

-CRACK!-

How l~o~n~g before they

leave you?

What will take

for them to break?

You're a firework, baby,

flash into their minds and leave them

DAZZLED

little rabbits caught in

h-e-a-d-l-i-g-h-t-s

and you can kill them from the

((inside))

out.

Oh, you never actually do anything:

you're waiting for your prince, after all

and this is just a bit of fun.

It is

a squeeze of the hand

and a s*p*a*r*k*l*i*n*g smile

and you let them think they've

CAUGHT

you.

But you're a b-u-t-t-e-r-f-l-y, sweetheart,

so they can't trap you

in a /glass jar\.

Not you.

You walk in a trail

of bro/ken hearts

and people call you beautiful.

They never do call you princess, though,

and don't you know that princes only go for princesses?

So you make the boys who think they've

((caught you))

SUFFER

because they're not,

can't be,

him.

Maybe he will never {love} you

and you are doomed to being

bro/ken.

Incomplete.

So you twist the hearts

of the boys who {love} you

and maybe it's even fun.

Right now, you feel

POWERFUL.

DIFFERENT.

SPECIAL.

Maybe you can even pretend

to be the girl he loves.

But the thing is –

you're not.

So you dance through your g/a/m/e

of love that isn't r-e-a-l

and add to your collection of

bro/ken hearts.

The thing is, you look like you're all

f-i-r-e and p*a*s*s*i*o*n

but your |heart|

is made of stone.

Only he can

crack

you.

Your tiara's rusting away, sweetie,

and your prince's hair is turning

grey.

And aren't you tired of waiting?

Maybe you aren't a princess, after all.

Princesses are patient.

And you are always in the ((middle))

of the a-c-t-i-o-n.

So is he.

He's a hero, after all.

So maybe it's time for you to stand on your

((own two feet))

and prove to him

you're worth it.

He's the hero, after all –

and you can be the heroine.


A/N: Well, did you like it? Hate it? Please tell me in a review!

~Butterfly