Waiting, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: I wish I owned a tiny bit of Harry Potter…but unfortunately, I don't… I also wish I owned the song this is based off of…again, I don't. Sad…

A/N: This is based of "Knock Three Times", which I think is one of the cutest songs ever…anywayz…

...Waiting...

A young girl was sitting by her window listening once again to the sound of the apartment above hers. She didn't know who lived there, but she thought she was falling in love with him.

Sitting by her window every night had become a staple of her life. By listening to the quiet sounds of his music, his T.V, and his voice, she was slowly figuring out what type of person he was.

She never had the guts to go up there and knock on his door, instead she sat by her window, wishing that he would come down and knock on her door.

She wasn't even sure if she'd ever run into him in the hallway. Certainly not. She would have recognized him if he did. She already thought she knew what he looked like. Tall, muscular, slightly long dark brown hair that fell down in thick gorgeous locks, tan skin, and green eyes. It was the only way a guy that listened to that kind of music and talked with that much of a dreamy voice COULD look.

So every night she would sit by her window and sing, don't ask her why she would sing, but she would, hoping that he could hear her, singing, love songs, thinking about meeting him.

A young man was sitting on his couch, once again listening to the sound of the apartment below him. He didn't know who lived there, but he was definitely falling for her.

He would sit quietly on the couch, turn his favorite music on, and hope that she was listening. He would listen to her laughing and talking on the phone. He was slowly trying to build up a picture of what she looked like. She was probably tall, and very beautiful. Probably blonde, with beautiful blue eyes. A girl with a voice as bubbly as hers had to look like his perfect girl.

He would listen to her sing, occasionally along to the music he played. Those were his favorite nights. She sang so beautifully. He would have rather listened to her singing, then the stereo. She mostly sang love songs, which tortured him. Who was she thinking about when she was singing? Her boyfriend?

One night he brought a girl home. The young girl didn't sit by the window that night, or the following weeks after. She felt she should give them privacy, regardless of what they were doing.

Although in those weeks, she felt supremely jealous of this new intruder, she couldn't help but feel slightly happy. After all, he was happy, and that was a good thing.

One night, she noticed the music was playing again. The music continued on the subsequent nights after that. Relationship over. She smiled to herself.

One night he brought a girl home. Well, actually, she followed him home, and he got her out of his apartment as soon as he could. He just simply wasn't attracted to her. He couldn't hear the girl beneath him singing that night. Nor the following nights. He missed her voice.

But she was probably with her boyfriend. Well, he'd give her privacy. He stopped sitting on the couch closest to the window, and instead watched T.V and listened to his music in his room.

One night, he missed her singing so much, he started to play his music in the main room again. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her singing again.

She went back to her regime of sitting next to the window and singing. More of humming. Once in a while she would close the window and sing. Sing at the top of her lungs, not caring who heard her.

He went back to his od routine of playing his music every night. Some nights, she would close the window, and he could hear her voice drifting up through the floor. He could imagine her dancing and singing, in her own little world. He suddenly wanted to be part of it.

One night, she heard sounds of a piano drifting down through her window. She made her way over and listened to what sounded like the man playing a beautiful concerto. She began to hum along, and make up words for a beautiful wordless tune.

He went to his old piano, and began to play an old tune. A simple one, an old concerto, to be exact. He was pleased to find he still had that talent. He heard the girl begin to hum along to his music, making up words where there were none.

Night after night she would sit at the window to listen to the newest piece of piano literature he would play next. Every night she would hum along, and make up words. She found if she closed her window, the sound of the piano would come down through her fireplace. She listened to it whenever she could. It was her background music. Soon she forgot it was there, it was just comforting. She would do dishes and hum along, fold laundry and hum along, or sometimes, she would once again take her place by the window and sing.

Every night he would sit at the piano and play a new song. He would go out to the music stores and pick up more music, some where classical pieces, some where pieces that could be sung along to. He would play every night. He could hear her singing. Sometimes it wasn't too clear, he could tell she was busy doing something else, but the loved to listen to her singing.

She was waiting one night for the piano to come, but it never did. Maybe he found someone… She thought sadly to herself. Then she heard strains of music coming from the apartment upstairs, she craned her body out of the window, trying to hear what it was. Then came the piano, joining the music playing on the stereo perfectly. The young girl suddenly recognized it, and started to sing along.

One night he had an idea. He would play "Knock Three Times" on the stereo for her, and then play it on the piano, and sing along. Maybe she would realize he was talking to her…Maybe…Just Maybe.

"Oh my darling, Knock Three Times on the Ceiling if you wanna meet…Twice on the pipe, if the answer is no….Oh my sweetness, knock knock knock means you'll meet me in the hallway, twice on the pipe tink tink Means you ain't gonna show!!!"

All of a sudden she stopped dead. Was this meant for her? Did he want to meet her? Was he playing this song to perhaps meet her in the hallway??

He wondered if she was understanding, wishing he had the courage to just go down there and talk to her.

She climbed up on her dinner table, and tentatively knocked on the ceiling three times.

Did she just knock on the ceiling three times? Oh god. This is it…

She scrambled down from the table, ran to the bathroom to quickly touch up her hair, and flew out of the door to wait for him. This was it.

He grabbed a hat, and headed out of the door. He decided to go down to her floor.

The young girl saw a man walking towards her. He was tall, and muscular. His other features where hidden under a baseball cap that read "NYC".

The young man saw a girl standing in the hallway. She was of average height, and slim. She was beautiful. He stopped in front of her, raised his head, and took a tentative look at her.

Recognition dawned on the young girl's face. "Draco?"

He knew this girl, "Cho?"

Well this is slightly awkward…

Now what genius?

"So you're…my mystery man?" she asked, slightly disappointed. He wasn't supposed to be someone she already knew and knew she despised.

"And you're my mystery woman…" he stated slowly. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be his dream girl. Wait a minute…Hadn't he spent the last year listening to her voice, falling in love with her singing, the way she banged pots and pans around when she washed dishes, how she swore loudly when her shirt wouldn't fold properly?

She didn't know how to take this turn of events, until she realized that he must have changed. He was the sweet guy that every girl wanted. Who didn't want a guy that listened to good music, watched good T.V. and who could play the piano amazingly?

"Cho?"

"Draco?"

"I think I've fallen in love with you…"

"I think I'm ok with that."

And with that, both of them laughed and then slowly, leaned in for a kiss. It was perfect. Everything just felt right when they were with each other. Draco swept her off her feet and carried her back up to his apartment. He had been lonely too long. So had she. She slept over that night. They stayed up talking until the sun came up. It just goes to show that whatever it is, it'll come… Sometimes it'll just take some waiting…

A/N: That was my first One Shot EVER...ReViEw Please!!! Merci!