Song: The Tale of Dusty and Pistol Pete
I cry with my soul, and scream with my mind.
My voice still betrays me.
A heart, still crushed, refuses any explanation.
But that's not fair!
Why can't you turn around and look at me, goddamn you?
Please?
"What's wrong, Hermione?" asks Ginny, and I start.
"What?"
"You're crying," she points out wryly.
"Am I?"
"Oh, it's one of them. I know how that is" she tells me sympathetically, then casts another thought-devoid look at Harry. The complete lack of intelligence in the looks those two exchanged so frequently was terrifying.
Song: Behold! The Night Mare
I dress before leaving the bathroom tonight, although I needn't have bothered. She wasn't there when I got out. Somehow, I felt a heart-wrenching disappointment at that.
Face it I tell myself savagely, You just want her for the sex.
But it isn't true. Lo, if only it was. That would certainly be one less complication to deal with.
A knock comes at the door, and I stop breathing.
Is it…could it be…
It isn't. Just a 5th year who wanted permission to go and get their books from the classroom so as to do their homework. I sigh bitterly, and turn to the marking that I was supposed to have done last night. I cannot help but think off all of the hurt looks that she cast my way, and a few salty tears trickle their way down my cheeks. It isn't right that she is able to make me feel this way. There has got to be some sort of obscure law against it.
But there isn't.
So I continue with my marking, not noticing the tears that splash the parchment.