A/N: The title comes from a lovely Irish song I sang in choir last year called Orkney Lullaby. I don't believe the fic itsself needs any more explaining, so just enjoy :)
Disclaimer: They're JK's, not mine.
~~*~*~~
The common room was very quiet, most likely because there were only two people occupying it -- one of whom was brooding as he stared at the fire, the other of whom was watching him intently. It wasn't a particularly unusual situation, seeing as this particular boy brooded quite a bit, and this particular girl spent a lot of time watching him intently ... but they usually weren't alone.
"I hate this scar, do you know that?" the boy said bitterly, gesturing to his forehead
The girl's brown eyes softened in concern. "Why?" she asked comfortingly, but still not getting up from her spot practically across the room from him.
"It has caused me nothing but trouble." He said. It looked like he had been wanting to say this for a long time. "When I was little, Dudley used to tease me about it all the time, and of course, since he did it, everyone at school did it too. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would always get this strange fearful look whenever they saw it, like it was about to kill them all. Even now, it links me to Voldemort," the girl habitually flinched at the name, "and puts me and everyone I know in danger." He heaved a sigh, staring at the fire again.
The girl got up from her seat and walked over to where the boy was sitting. She sat down next to him on the couch, but didn't say anything. She only looked up at him, the same look of concern in her eyes. Then she did something completely unexpected. She reached up and traced the scar with her index finger, pausing at the end, and then, trembling in anticipation, she kissed it.
A look of wonder, confusion, and a bit of embarrasment spread across the boy's face. He looked at her intently as her face turned as red as her hair.
"I need to go to the library." she said abruptly, and she left.
The boy looked even more confused as he sat for a few more minutes, still looking at the fire. Then, as if getting a sudden resolve, he, too, headed for the portrait hole. The common room was now once again completely silent.
~~*~*~~
AN2: All right. I know that this begs for a sequel, but if you want one, you can write it yourself, because I kinda like the open-endedness :)
Disclaimer: They're JK's, not mine.
~~*~*~~
The common room was very quiet, most likely because there were only two people occupying it -- one of whom was brooding as he stared at the fire, the other of whom was watching him intently. It wasn't a particularly unusual situation, seeing as this particular boy brooded quite a bit, and this particular girl spent a lot of time watching him intently ... but they usually weren't alone.
"I hate this scar, do you know that?" the boy said bitterly, gesturing to his forehead
The girl's brown eyes softened in concern. "Why?" she asked comfortingly, but still not getting up from her spot practically across the room from him.
"It has caused me nothing but trouble." He said. It looked like he had been wanting to say this for a long time. "When I was little, Dudley used to tease me about it all the time, and of course, since he did it, everyone at school did it too. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would always get this strange fearful look whenever they saw it, like it was about to kill them all. Even now, it links me to Voldemort," the girl habitually flinched at the name, "and puts me and everyone I know in danger." He heaved a sigh, staring at the fire again.
The girl got up from her seat and walked over to where the boy was sitting. She sat down next to him on the couch, but didn't say anything. She only looked up at him, the same look of concern in her eyes. Then she did something completely unexpected. She reached up and traced the scar with her index finger, pausing at the end, and then, trembling in anticipation, she kissed it.
A look of wonder, confusion, and a bit of embarrasment spread across the boy's face. He looked at her intently as her face turned as red as her hair.
"I need to go to the library." she said abruptly, and she left.
The boy looked even more confused as he sat for a few more minutes, still looking at the fire. Then, as if getting a sudden resolve, he, too, headed for the portrait hole. The common room was now once again completely silent.
~~*~*~~
AN2: All right. I know that this begs for a sequel, but if you want one, you can write it yourself, because I kinda like the open-endedness :)
