Harry Potter saw her sitting there at "that" table - with him.
His silver hair falling onto her slightly pudgy cheeks -
she would stroke his face as he whispered sweet things in
her ear. He never thought that they would be that close.
He saw the glance - he saw the stares - everyone saw the
glares. From a hate sprung forth love - the hate was just
a cover-up.



Shall I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair?



She was intelligent - that was just one of the many
things about her that could be listed. Beauty was something
that was usually not associated with her name, but over the
past two years she become absolutely lovely - but Draco Malfoy
had always seen this loveliness. Harry heard her giggle from
across the great hall and the food that he had just finished
picking at threatened to make it's way back up. Sickened -
he hated the fact that he was the reason making her laugh. How
could Malfoy bring such happiness to a person when all he had
ever been to Harry was pain in the ass.

He saw Malfoy trail a pale hand from her shoulder to
the back of her hand - more disgust - more loathing. He stole
glances from the corner of his eyes - his glasses making it look
as if he were reading the banner on the far wall. Her skin -
he had touched it once - accidentally while running into her
in a hallway. She didn't recoil - only brushed past him with
her cloak billowing behind her. Her flesh was pallid - no -
not pallid - maybe at one time - but it looked gray now. He
remembered, she had a calcium deficiency, that was why if she
stood against a white wall she became translucent. But it
would not matter if she was ghost, as long as he could touch
the silk soften layers of her neck and shoulders.



Or make pale my cheeks with care - 'Cause another's rosy are?



Harry pondered briefly about his skin - rough - calloused
from Quidditch - tanned from bright rays cascading down upon him.
Was it that? Maybe he was too good at Quidditch. Maybe his natural
ability to draw a crowd - his charismatic charm. Was it these
reasons that she never looked at him the way she was looking at
Malfoy now? Perhaps if he quit Quidditch and stayed in doors all
the time to make the outside as pale as Malfoy - maybe then she
would give him a chance.



Be she fairer than the day, Or the flow'ry meads in May, If she
think not well of me, What care I how fair she be?



He told himself he would not care - no - not any more.
He would never glance in their direction again. All the sensual,
feather soft kisses and even the more passionate ones - none of
this would interest him. Harry knew he was lying to himself -
even as he said the words over and over - as he whispered them
before he went to sleep - he knew that what they shared would
always draw an un-mentionable jealous rage out of him.

Harry watched them - they were in a study group now.
Muggle Studies - he never thought he would see the day that Draco
Malfoy would "lower" himself to learn about muggles. She must have
convinced him to take it with her. She seemed happy to be explaing
to him about some of the more technological advances of the
twentieth century. He saw her scribbling notes in his notebook
and telling him to memorize one thing or another. He sat almost
in a dazed like state - watching her pink quill swirling and
curving. Harry almost laughed when Malfoy yanked the quill
away from her and held it above her head. He was such an ass.



Shall my silly heart be pined - 'Cause I see a woman kind?



He had stopped to bend over and pick up his books that Malfoy
had ever so obviously knocked out of his bag. Now Harry was plotting
revenge as he was trying to save a Potions essay from being totally
destroyed by ink blotches. He heard footsteps and suspected it was
one of Malfoy's goons off to attempt to kick his arse. But, unless
suddenly Crabbe or Goyle started to wear knee-high black dragon hide
boots - then it could only be her.

Harry stood slowly - letting his eyes travel up from her feet
to her eyes. They were warm and inviting - and the colour was a shade
he would forever swear that he would never find a duplicate of. She
had a bit of a scowl on her face, with a touch of a pout. He expected
some sort of lecture, followed by yelling, but she took out her wand
and pointed at his stained essay and books. The ink was soon gone and
everything seemed to sparkle or maybe it was her smile that brightened
the room. With flip of her hair, she was gone. It was deffinately the
wrong time to make resolutions of no longer caring if she and Malfoy
were together.



Or a well disposed nature - Joined with a lovely feature?



He had just finished Quidditch practice - Fred was sure a hard-ass
- even more than Wood had been. Practices were long and grueling, but on
the up the side they were only four days a week. It was when he saw a black
hooded figure take a place on a bench, that he stopped - mid-air. As he
hovered closer - she could not see him for which he was greatful - it was her.

She threw back her hood and behold he found himself adoring her from
afar once more. Harry longed to jump from the broom and take a seat at her
side - she most likely would tell him to stay away - say that he was
invading her space. So, he watched on with sorrow filled eyes. She
merely sat and stared out into the vask openess of the world - of the
grounds. He adored so many things about her - eyes, lips - but now even
the simple silver chain she wore around her neck made him sigh longingly.



Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or Pelican, If she be not so to
me, What care I how kind she be?



The evening meal - one he had enjoyed at one time - but now all
meals taken in the great hall, he loathed. It was a chance to see her,
but as well to see them - together. With each glance in each other's
direction sent a needle directly into his heart. Malfoy would love
knowing that he was causing him so much pain and heart ache - he would
find an even more cringe worthy topic to taunt him about.

Harry pushed his plate aside - he had barely touched the food
on the plate, but he was full yet. As he slid back his chair to leave
he ran into to a passing by Cho Chang. Harry stumbled, but kept his
balance - Cho on the other hand had been knocked on her arse and looked
rather stunned. He stood dumb-founded and an almost amused look was
etched into his face.

"S-sorry, Cho - didn't see you there," he muttered.

"Nice going, Potter!" Malfoy yelled.

Some of Malfoy's fellow Slytherins laughed and pointed
jeeringly at Harry.

"So, that how you snog - is it, Harry? Maybe when you ask her out
- you'll send a bludger after her," she joined in.

Harry sighed and trudged back to her room. Ever since her
and Malfoy had gotten together, his sarcasm had rubbed off increadlibly.
Walking up the stairs he felt like a complete idiot - not only his
enemy could get him flustered, but now her too.



Shall a woman's virtues move - Me to perish for her love? Or her
well-deservings known - Make me quite forget my own?



It was utterly stupid - he was angry at Dumbledore for even
considering it, let alone agreeing. And, he was especially angry with
Lavender Brown for proposing the idea. So Valentine's Day was approaching -
they hadn't had anything formal since the Yule Ball in Harry's fourth year,
but apparently many of the femal students missed having something formal
to go to. A Valentine's Day Ball - disgusting.

It wasn't an ordinary affair, no - Lavender had been inventive
when suggesting it to the Headmaster. There would be two cauldrons,
one for each sixth and seventh year students. All the boys of the
houses, depending on year, would place their name into a cauldron.
Then, the girls of their year would pull out a name and that would
be their date - so no one went dateless - and everyone was required
to particapate. One word came to mind when Harry thought about who
his date would be - vomit. What if he was paired with Lavender of
Padma - not that they were not attractive, but he would at least
like someone he could talk to.

He saw her walk up to the sixth year cauldron and slowly dip
her hand in to pieces of parchment. She searched for a bit and then,
grasping on to a piece firmly, pulled it out triumphantly. She grinned
as she read the name and raised her eyebrow in Malfoy's direction.
Harry couldn't believe it - in their entire year she had been so lucky
as to get her boyfriend as her date. He was convinced that Malfoy had
rigged the cauldron.

Harry was lost in thought of how Malfoy could have done it, so
when Padma sat next to him, telling him that he was her date to the ball,
he didn't hear. Padma nudged him, angrily.

"What?!" he yelled.

He hadn't meant to yell, not really. And when he gazed into Padma's
eyes - he saw how upset he had made her. Harry instantly regretted being a
daydreamer.

"I-I said," Padma stuttered, "you're my date to the ball, Harry - so glad
your as excited as Parvati is about going with Neville."

With these words, Padma rushed off almost in tears. It was true -
ever since he had become enamoured with her and Malfoy's relationship - he
had turned down everyone that had asked him out. He even had almost
completely forgotten about Cho Chang and would have too, if it were not
for her being the Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. Harry glanced over at
Ron and Ginny, they both were shaking their heads at him - clearly they
didn't see that his outburst at Padma was a mis-understanding.

Slowly, all gathered in the great hall were retiring, most
if not all were happy with their dates. As she passed Harry, she
patted him on the back, much to Malfoy's annoyance.

"Better luck next time, Harry - too bad Cho is not in our year,"
she said, quite seriously.

Malfoy, lingering behind her, whipped out his wand after
she was far ahead and wacked Harry, violently on his head. Any
other day, Harry would have punched him, but he allowed Malfoy to
catch up with her and walk her out of the great hall. Harry sighed,
longingly and shook his head. Courage - where had his courage gone
- it had flew out of his heart so swiftly as his adoration for her
had flew in.



Be she with that goodness blest - Which may merit name of Best, If she
be not such to me, What care I how good she be?



Potions now was even more disturbing than it had ever been.
They were there - sitting together - laughing - writing - studying -
following Snape's every whim and word - disgusting. Even on occasion,
pulling a large book in front of them, they would sneak a kiss or, two.
And, Harry had the misfortune to have a "perfect" view of Malfoy caressing
her thigh.

The potion to be made was not of a difficult nature - but when
Neville had caused his cauldron to implode once, then explode the second
time - Harry was un-nerved. She offered to help him, much to Snape's
dismay, but none-the-less allowed her to give Neville assistance.
Malfoy, of course, interjected that she should not have to grace her
intelligence onto such a witless squib as Neville Longbottom. She
playfully swatted his arm and whispered something in his ear to calm
him. Malfoy nodded and went back to dicing ingredients for his potion.

For the first time, in all of his years in potions - Harry had
caused his own cauldron to melt. Ron was more surprised than anyone -
kept insisting that Malfoy or some Slytherin had slipped some wrong
ingredient in. Harry was utterly embarrased and he felt complete shame
when Snape lectured about how "celebrities" should be more careful.

He thought maybe she would now offer to help him - but it was
not his attention to destroy a cauldron - but if it worked to his
advantage he would have to make destroying cauldrons a regular task.
She only shook her head destestedly in his direction - finished
assisting Neville and went back to her place by Malfoy. Harry was
disappointed and he let it show greatly.



'Cause her fortune seems too high, Shall I play the fool and die?



Harry attempted to feign illness on the night of the ball -
but Ron made him get his arse out of bed and escort Padma - he was
strangely experiencing a case of deja vu from the Yule Ball. Ron
was slightly peeved that Harry had actually made Padma cry - so he
reasoned that Harry had to make it up to her by being a complete
gentlemen and even if he had to, at least pretend that he was
interested in whatever gossip she had to utter.

Padma looked stunning - for someone wearing a crimson dress
on Valentine's Day - because most of every girl present was wearing
some shade of red. Somewhere in the midst of wading through people,
Harry had lost Ron - but that didn't matter at the moment. In a blur
he saw a shade of pale pink dress robes - her - it was her. She was
more beautiful than he had seen her. And Harry became even more
jealous when many of the other male students turned catch a glimpse
of the vision. She was dancing - gracefully - dancng - with Malfoy,
of course.

Malfoy - he had grown much in taste since their fourth year -
his robes, Harry hated to admit, made him be one of the best looking
at the ball. Together they made a dementingly perfect couple. It
was them that made the room spin - they together - laughing - embracing.
Sweet whispers of their un-dying love for one another - through all
the music and chattering - Harry could hear them. It tore at his
very soul and strings that held his heart in tack were lanced when
Malfoy slipped a simply beautiful, silver ring onto her finger.
Etched into it was his name and hers.

Harry snapped - he stood calmly and stalked forth to them.
Malfoy never saw him - he was too busy gazing at her to notice anyone
else. Harry grabbed hold of Malfoy's robes, turning him and cleanly
punched him. She screamed no, he believed - but he did not care.
Malfoy had been knocked unconscious - that was the plan all along.



She that bears a noble mind, If not outward helps she find,
Thanks what with them he would do, That with out them dares
her woo; And unless that mind I see, What care I how great
she be?



Harry was sitting in the great hall - alone - uncaring.
He recieved detention for a month - with Snape - disgusting.
Though Harry admitted that he deserved it, but didn't Malfoy,
then, too deserve what he got? He slammed his head onto the
table, enjoying the sickening thud it made as the echo embedded
itself briefly around the hall.

"You know," she drawled, from behind, "if you did that long
enough - you might pound some sense into your head."

He lifted his head and nodded, chuckling. Much to his
surprise, she sat beside him. Harry went stiff - sure he had
sitten beside her before - plenty of times, but now it was different.
He could not be sure, because he had never felt it before, but he
was almost sure that he was falling in love with her. However
strange it seemed - he loved her from afar and now he had a
chance to tell her everything - to tell her that Malfoy was
wrong for her - that he could treat her like no one else could -
he would forever be her slave if she would only adorn him with
her attention.

Harry did not dare to meet her eyes - no - he couldn't
do that, because then he would pull her to him tightly and - he
stopped thinking of such things. She was here, most likely to
scold him like a bad puppy or to lecture, like she was so fond
of doing to everyone else.

"Harry, I know why you hit, Draco - well, he can be pompous at
times - even arrogant..."

"To put it lightly," he scoffed.

She sighed in frustration - this wasn't easy for her to
come out and say and if Draco saw them sitting together, however
innocent it may be - he would kill Harry and then not speak to
her for a month.

"Okay, okay. I admit it, he is an arrogant prat - but he is
different when were together. Nothing else matters, but us,"

Harry scoffed once more - that was the problem - in
their world they were the only ones who mattered. Harry -
anybody else did not exist.

"I know it sounds selfish, but if you knew his parents - his
Father - is such a - such a - asshole,"

He was shocked that she used that language. Only once
had he heard utter a curse - well, it wasn't exactly muttered.
Ron had accidentally filled his cauldron much too full and dye -
permanent dye - had dripped onto her. Mind that it was boiling
hot and Malfoy got splattered with a great deal of the liquid -
she was burned.

Harry - braving that he could withstand gazing into her
warm, pulling eyes, looked up at her. She smiled, slightly, then frowned.

"For the longest time I have known that you have feelings for me -
no one else even notices that the-boy-who-lived steals tiny peeks
of me, while my boyfriend - who I love, Harry - sits with his
arm around me. I have eyes and ears..."

"Then you heard me? I mean - I - wasn't really spying on you -
but I knew that if anyone saw us together - well - I'm not scared
of Draco or anything like that - but, I wouldn't want to make you angry,"

She nodded and he loved the way her hair bounced loosely
around her face. Harry had to do it - he could not resist - if
it meant that he would never get to see her again - if he was
never able to breathe in the subtle scent of Eucalyptus that
followed her - he would still do it - he kissed her. She had
been expecting him to do so - and surprisingly she let him -
for a moment. Melodiously, she pushed him away - in truth he
thought she would have slapped him with all her might. And,
Harry supposed that he wished for it a bit - she liked him -
well, tolerated might be a better word - but if she and Draco
were not - were not...

"Harry, I have told you - I love Draco - and only Draco,"

She was gone - left in flurry of robe and cloak - he
could almost still hear the calming noise they made when she
walked. Harry once more slammed his head onto the table - the
echo - this time - uttered not any hope, what-so-ever. Another
deep, heavy sigh and Harry felt more alone than he ever had before.

Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe, I will die ere she shall grieve;

He had been in bed for two days - two complete days -
sleeping or feigning sleep. He had told Ron that he was sick -
and he was not lying exactly. His amount of food intake for the
past week, summed up to a few rolls, juice, and a couple of
Chocolate Frogs. But, when he didn't have the energy to go
and play the game against Hufflepuff yesterday - he decided.



If she slight me when I woo, I can scorn and let her go;



Yes, he would put her out of his head - oh, he would think about
her, but each day he vowed to do it less and less. If she did not want
him - he refused out of pride to spend the rest of his sixth year and
his entire seventh year mooning after a girl he could not be with.
Malfoy was who made her happy - though he would hate Draco Malfoy
until the day he died and they would spend all of eternity locked
in a death grip like hold onto one another, butting heads in the
process - he would smile lamentingly when he looked at her and he
would never ill talk her.

There was the one thing - the only thing that he would remember
of her for the rest of his life - he had had his first kiss with her and
he was still amazed that he had been the one to iniate it. Harry always
figured that he would feel as if he would ruin the mood if he blurted out
"Can I kiss you?" to the one he wanted to kiss. Yes, he would always
remember that the very first lips that he touched with his own - was
that of Pansy Parkinson.



For if she be not for me, What care I for whom she be?

***NOTE***
THE POEM WAS WRITTEN BY GEORGE WITHER - THE LOVER'S RESOLUTION