I'm the priest to whom she must confess
That she can't keep running
But she can't slow down
You can't think straight on a merry-go-round
She's found her own way to deal with the pain
--Down She Goes
There it is.
The perfect stillness I knew had to exist somewhere outside my dreams. Dreams that are painted black with evil memories. Dreams that hold the coveted moment where all my hopes and desires are clear to me. Dreams that reveal all I truly want is for that moment to never end. All this, I've found in daylight hours.
"No more talk of dreams."
I wasn't. I was saying that the only place I find peace is in his arms and in yours. I've jumped from one evil to another. But he was black and you are white.
"Am I? How's that?"
It's your hair. It's not silver, not blond, it's white. And your skin, and your eyes, so pale, they're white as well. Sometimes white can be just as dangerous as black.
"You're speaking nonsense, but I like the sound of that: dangerous. I've been called cold, cruel, and selfish, but never dangerous."
You are dangerous and I shouldn't be with you. If anyone ever found out . . . We've been enemies for so long.
"We're not enemies, not you and I. Potter, your brother, that mudblood, we're enemies. But you and I? Never."
I should hate you for saying that. Hermoine's a nice person - No, don't look at me like that. All right, my brother I could do without but I don't hate him.
"Not yet."
Not what? Never mind. I feel so calm around you and not, well, scared. I feel like I should be scared. Should I be? No, of course not. But . . . aren't you supposed to be working for You-Know-Who?
"Say his real name. Call him Lord Voldemort."
Why?
"Because he'd want you to."
Oh . . . Do you call him that? No, don't answer. I already know. You do, you do because you're rebellious.
"Is that it? Should I go put on some leather for you?"
No, too Muggle. Put on black robes, you're a pureblood.
. . . Did I just say that?
"Yes, love. Yes, you did. Horrible, isn't it? Soon you'll be talking back to teachers, yelling at your friends, and considering a life as a Death Eater."
I - No, don't kiss me. Are you joking? There's a mischievous glint in your eye that makes me think you aren't. Stop touching me and let me think! No, I could never serve You-Kno -- Voldemort . . .
"Of course not, love."
. . . right?
You have my heart.