I watch you from across the great hall, a scowl in place. Your 'friends' are surrounding you, touching you, watching you. It makes me seethe in anger, they don't care, all they see is "The Boy Who Lived", they don't see you; they don't see Harry. I watch as you give them a fake smile, I knows it fake, I also know that you believe what they do, that Harry isn't worth anything, that all the matters is "The Boy Who Lived", and defeating Voldemort, I see it in your eyes, even if no one else does.

I know you, I know that all of your smiles are fake, haven't seen you smile since Cedric died, maybe even before that, and that was two, almost three years ago. I know you look at yourself in dismay when you see yourself in a mirror.

Seems the only one who doesn't see your beauty is the face in the mirror looking back at you, you walk around here thinking you're not pretty, but that's not true 'cause I know you.

You stand, everyone watches as walk through the doors at the end of the hall. I stand, receiving the nods from my house mates, showing that they know who is boss, me. I follow you out, watching as you walk towards the lavatories, I follow, my head held high, not hiding, not like you are. I listen outside the door, I can you turn on the sink, something you always do, so no one can hear you crying. I follow you often.

Hold on, baby, your losing it, the water's high, your jumping in and doing it, and letting go, and no one knows that you cry , but you don't tell anyone, that you might not be the golden one, and your tied together with a smile, but your coming undone.

You've come undone, the deaths everywhere you look, blaming yourself for each and every one of them, but it's not your fault. I want to go in and hold you, comfort you, but you would just push me away. I want to kiss you, and make you believe that you are perfect, and that the deaths are not your fault, but you would push me away, telling me that you hate me. I couldn't stand hearing that, not from you, from anyone else, sure, but not from you, never from you.

I know that you are gay, you had that fling with Terry Boot, but he left you crying, seeing "The Boy Who Lived", a conquest. I had Crab and Goyle beat him up over that, over you, over the pain that he caused you. I started a fight over a Gryffindor, if any of my house mates knew, they would laugh in my face, asking if I was okay, but I'm not, because I love you, I love the great Harry Potter, but to me, you're Harry, the one I love from afar.

They did it without questions, always do.

I also know that you were in love with Cedric; I know the pain that you felt thinking that the one you loved died because of you, and who you are. You never told him, and I think that, that caused you the most pain.

I guess it's true that love was all you wanted, cause your giving it away like it's extra change, but he leaves you out like a penny in the rain, cause it's not his price to pay, it's not his price to pay.

You are still crying, but I hear the rustling of your cloths and robes now, you're about to leave. I need to move if I don't want you to find me, listening to you cry, but I can't find myself to move.

You open the door, standing still in the door way when you see me; your eyes are slightly red, you look meek. You look up at me, "Please, Malfoy, I don't feel like fighting right now, can you just please move?"

The only reason I fight with you is because it's as close as I can get to feeling you, skin on skin, as I will probably ever get, and if you could only be happy, I would be happy with that.

I look down at you, "It's not true you know, what you and everyone else thinks, it's not true," and with that I walk away, leaving you standing in the door way.

Hold on baby your losing it, the waters high, your jumping in and doing it and no one knows that you cry, but you don't tell anyone, that you might not be the golden one, and your tied together with a smile, but your coming undone; ohhhh.

I can feel you staring at me, and then I hear your footsteps, you catch up to me, "What do you mean by that?"

I don't look at you, "You know exactly what I mean."

You stop walking, pausing for a minute, before catching up again. "How do you know? Why do you even care what I think?"

I stop walking, "Because I watch everything and because I do."

"That's it, just because you do." Your voice is raising, I know what will come next, but I will give it to you, let you release your anger and frustration on me with your voice and words, because I know how much you need it.

"Yes, just because I do."

Than you do something that I did not expect, "You are not who you appear to be either."

I shake my head, "No,"

"Are you agreeing or disagreeing with me?"

I look at you, "Why do you think you, Harry, are worthless?"

You look away at the floor, "Because I am," you whisper.

I feel as my heart breaks, shatters into a million pieces on the cold, stone floor.

"That's not true," I whisper also.

You look up at me, tears falling down your face, you emerald eyes wide.

Hold on baby your losing the waters high your jumping in, doing it, and no one knows that you cry but you don't tell anyone that you might not be the golden one, and your tied together with a smile, but your coming undone. Ohhh, your tied together with a smile, but your coming, undone, ohhh, goodbye baby, with a smile baby; ohhhh.

You close your eyes, I can hear yourself thinking, 'he just trying to use you, he doesn't care, he and his father are working with Voldemort.'

"That's not true,"

You look up at me, startled, "I do not work for Voldemort, I am not trying to use you, and I do really care."

Your eyes widen, and I take a step forward. "I know you, I watch you, I know you feel alone, and I know you don't trust your friends anymore. You are barely tied together anymore, but I would like to help you, if you gave me the chance."

You take a step forward, and I wrap my arms around you. You sob into my chest, and I hold you, never letting go. Together we will pick up all of the pieces that have fallen.