BIvory Tears and White Oleander Fears/B
Chapter One
Myself!
Myself!
What do I do to ignore them behind me?
Do I follow my instincts blindly?
Do I hide my pride, from these bad dreams
And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening?
Do I sit here and try to stand it?
Or do I try to catch them red-handed?
Do I trust some and get fooled by phoniness,
Or do I trust nobody and live in loneliness?
Because I can't hold on when I'm stretched so thin
I make the right moves but I'm lost within
I put on my daily facade but then
I just end up getting hurt again
By myself (Myself)
I ask why
But in my mind I find I can't rely on myself (Myself)I ask why
But in my mind I find I cant rely on myself
I can't look around Its too much to take in
I can't hold on, When I'm stretched so thin
I can't slow down, Watching everything spin
I can't look past, Its starting over again
If I turn my back I'm defenseless
And to go blindly seems senseless
If I hide my pride and let it all go on then they'll
Take from me till everything is gone
If I let them go I'll be outdone
But if I try to catch them I'll be outrun
If I'm killed by the questions like a cancer
Then I'll be buried in the silence of the answer
By Myself (Myself)
I ask why
But in my mind I find I can't rely on myself (Myself)
I ask why
But in my mind I find I cant rely on myself
I can't look around, Its too much to take in
I can't hold on, When I'm stretched so thin
I can't slow down, Watching everything spin
I can't look past, Its starting over again
Don't You (repeated over and over again)
KNOW!
I cant tell you how to make it
Go!
NO matter what I do, how hard I
TRY!
I cant seem to convince myself
WHY!
I'm stuck on the outside
The assignment was to write about what we wanted out of life. It was for that old bat's class. He didn't mind the assignment though. He sat in the window seat in the Gryffindor ((if that's spelled wrong please tell me in a review.)) common room. His head was lying on the glass as he watched the rainfall. He observed his breath fogging up the window. There was one catch to the assignment; it had to be in one word. What did he want? He knew what he wanted; he wanted freedom, freedom from his past, his present, and his dark increasingly gloomy future.
Now, Harry Potter wasn't one to complain. After all he was still alive. He knew it was just barely, but there was still hope. Everyone had the right to live. That where survival of the fittest comes into play. He was different now. His eyes still held a fire and passion. It was a different fire and passion. It was one consumed with his and the ones he cared about survival. He knew his future held killed or be killed, but what he couldn't figure out was why. Why was he meant to kill Voldemort? He was sure that's what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about.
He watched, as his breath would fog the window as he breathed out. In, Out. In, Out. Fog, No fog. Fog, No fog. He slowly rose from the hard yet comfortable window seat and left for Dumbledore's office. He walked in a deserted corridor. It was the first Saturday of the school year, Harry's sixth year of school. He was surprised he was still alive to make it to his sixth year. Everyone was at a secret rave thrown by Malfoy. He invited EVERYONE except Harry. He even invited Ron. Harry sighed as he said the password to the Gargoyles. Let's here was the old coot has to say now.
Harry knocked on the door and was told to come in by a tired and worn Dumbledore. He slowly stepped in mentally preparing for what he was about to be told. He had come to dread his visits to Dumbledore. He sat in one of the huge antique looking chairs in front of Dumbledore old mahogany desk. He surveyed Dumbledore through tired and worn eyes of his own. He hadn't been able to sleep more than an hour or two. His scare would start burning so bad he though his head would literally explode from the pressure. It would glow bright enough to wake people up so he just strolled around the ground in the invisibility cloak his father left him.
Dumbledore's beard was longer and more untamed. He was looking more ancient then he was. His eyes still had that twinkle though. That was one thing you could always count on unless something horrible had happened. He noticed some new trinkets on Dumbledore's desk. They looked fragile and delicate just like most of the other ones.
"Well, Harry let us get straight to the point of your visit." Dumbledore began with a pleasant smile.
"Ok sir." Harry replied wearily.
"Harry do you know why you're the one whose destiny it is to defeat Voldemort?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Because he chose me?" Harry suggested.
"Yes that's part of it. The other part is because you are one of the few Necromancers left in the world." Dumbledore replied.
"What? I can't be a Necromancer. I don't have any of those powers." Harry argued.
"Yes but you type of magical signature leave the trace of a Necromancer Harry. You're meant to defeat Voldemort because you have power over the dead. Voldemort, even though he seems to be alive, isn't. He's like a vampire. He's walking around a live yes, but he isn't. Magic keeps him alive. You have the untapped ability to control the dead, which means you can control him if you knew how. That's where Mr. Malfoy will come in. He is going to teach you. He's a well able Necromancer, just not as power as you. Somewhere along the line your bloodline was mixed with the heir of Gryffindor. You naturally will possess more power." Dumbledore explained slowly wanting to gauge Harry's reaction to it all. After last year Dumbledore vowed to not keep anything from Harry that could potentially endanger him or those around him.
Harry had no expression on his face, but inside he was shell-shocked. He was a Necromancer and Malfoy was to be his teacher? That was the part he was shell-shocked about. Malfoy was a Necromancer? He didn't hate Malfoy anymore, but it seemed the Slytherin did still hold a grudge against him. He knew it would piss Malfoy off like no other to have to teach him. He smirked. This could be good.
"When do lessons start?" Harry asked.
"Tomorrow at two o'clock." Dumbledore answered.
"Well then see you later professor."
Harry walked out of the office with a goofy grin on his face. The day was suddenly looking up.
AN: Craptastic. Oh well, and it's short too. I have the flu and it's 11:37pm. I have school in the morning so I'm making it short this time but I assure you my chapters are going to be long. If you have any suggestions about what Draco should teach him in the lessons let me know because I'm drawing blanks. Well review with advice. I like advice. (
Till later days lamas and crickets!
Chapter One
Myself!
Myself!
What do I do to ignore them behind me?
Do I follow my instincts blindly?
Do I hide my pride, from these bad dreams
And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening?
Do I sit here and try to stand it?
Or do I try to catch them red-handed?
Do I trust some and get fooled by phoniness,
Or do I trust nobody and live in loneliness?
Because I can't hold on when I'm stretched so thin
I make the right moves but I'm lost within
I put on my daily facade but then
I just end up getting hurt again
By myself (Myself)
I ask why
But in my mind I find I can't rely on myself (Myself)I ask why
But in my mind I find I cant rely on myself
I can't look around Its too much to take in
I can't hold on, When I'm stretched so thin
I can't slow down, Watching everything spin
I can't look past, Its starting over again
If I turn my back I'm defenseless
And to go blindly seems senseless
If I hide my pride and let it all go on then they'll
Take from me till everything is gone
If I let them go I'll be outdone
But if I try to catch them I'll be outrun
If I'm killed by the questions like a cancer
Then I'll be buried in the silence of the answer
By Myself (Myself)
I ask why
But in my mind I find I can't rely on myself (Myself)
I ask why
But in my mind I find I cant rely on myself
I can't look around, Its too much to take in
I can't hold on, When I'm stretched so thin
I can't slow down, Watching everything spin
I can't look past, Its starting over again
Don't You (repeated over and over again)
KNOW!
I cant tell you how to make it
Go!
NO matter what I do, how hard I
TRY!
I cant seem to convince myself
WHY!
I'm stuck on the outside
The assignment was to write about what we wanted out of life. It was for that old bat's class. He didn't mind the assignment though. He sat in the window seat in the Gryffindor ((if that's spelled wrong please tell me in a review.)) common room. His head was lying on the glass as he watched the rainfall. He observed his breath fogging up the window. There was one catch to the assignment; it had to be in one word. What did he want? He knew what he wanted; he wanted freedom, freedom from his past, his present, and his dark increasingly gloomy future.
Now, Harry Potter wasn't one to complain. After all he was still alive. He knew it was just barely, but there was still hope. Everyone had the right to live. That where survival of the fittest comes into play. He was different now. His eyes still held a fire and passion. It was a different fire and passion. It was one consumed with his and the ones he cared about survival. He knew his future held killed or be killed, but what he couldn't figure out was why. Why was he meant to kill Voldemort? He was sure that's what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about.
He watched, as his breath would fog the window as he breathed out. In, Out. In, Out. Fog, No fog. Fog, No fog. He slowly rose from the hard yet comfortable window seat and left for Dumbledore's office. He walked in a deserted corridor. It was the first Saturday of the school year, Harry's sixth year of school. He was surprised he was still alive to make it to his sixth year. Everyone was at a secret rave thrown by Malfoy. He invited EVERYONE except Harry. He even invited Ron. Harry sighed as he said the password to the Gargoyles. Let's here was the old coot has to say now.
Harry knocked on the door and was told to come in by a tired and worn Dumbledore. He slowly stepped in mentally preparing for what he was about to be told. He had come to dread his visits to Dumbledore. He sat in one of the huge antique looking chairs in front of Dumbledore old mahogany desk. He surveyed Dumbledore through tired and worn eyes of his own. He hadn't been able to sleep more than an hour or two. His scare would start burning so bad he though his head would literally explode from the pressure. It would glow bright enough to wake people up so he just strolled around the ground in the invisibility cloak his father left him.
Dumbledore's beard was longer and more untamed. He was looking more ancient then he was. His eyes still had that twinkle though. That was one thing you could always count on unless something horrible had happened. He noticed some new trinkets on Dumbledore's desk. They looked fragile and delicate just like most of the other ones.
"Well, Harry let us get straight to the point of your visit." Dumbledore began with a pleasant smile.
"Ok sir." Harry replied wearily.
"Harry do you know why you're the one whose destiny it is to defeat Voldemort?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Because he chose me?" Harry suggested.
"Yes that's part of it. The other part is because you are one of the few Necromancers left in the world." Dumbledore replied.
"What? I can't be a Necromancer. I don't have any of those powers." Harry argued.
"Yes but you type of magical signature leave the trace of a Necromancer Harry. You're meant to defeat Voldemort because you have power over the dead. Voldemort, even though he seems to be alive, isn't. He's like a vampire. He's walking around a live yes, but he isn't. Magic keeps him alive. You have the untapped ability to control the dead, which means you can control him if you knew how. That's where Mr. Malfoy will come in. He is going to teach you. He's a well able Necromancer, just not as power as you. Somewhere along the line your bloodline was mixed with the heir of Gryffindor. You naturally will possess more power." Dumbledore explained slowly wanting to gauge Harry's reaction to it all. After last year Dumbledore vowed to not keep anything from Harry that could potentially endanger him or those around him.
Harry had no expression on his face, but inside he was shell-shocked. He was a Necromancer and Malfoy was to be his teacher? That was the part he was shell-shocked about. Malfoy was a Necromancer? He didn't hate Malfoy anymore, but it seemed the Slytherin did still hold a grudge against him. He knew it would piss Malfoy off like no other to have to teach him. He smirked. This could be good.
"When do lessons start?" Harry asked.
"Tomorrow at two o'clock." Dumbledore answered.
"Well then see you later professor."
Harry walked out of the office with a goofy grin on his face. The day was suddenly looking up.
AN: Craptastic. Oh well, and it's short too. I have the flu and it's 11:37pm. I have school in the morning so I'm making it short this time but I assure you my chapters are going to be long. If you have any suggestions about what Draco should teach him in the lessons let me know because I'm drawing blanks. Well review with advice. I like advice. (
Till later days lamas and crickets!