Disclaimer: I do not; unfortunately own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. I just have my way with them….

Chapter 3: You Can Hit the Floor

"Everything that comes along reminds you
You can either rise above or you can hit the floor..."

I slowly walk to Arithmancy, alone, because all of my mates class's were on the other side of the castle. As I walked, I let my thoughts wander about my head, in not particular order or fashion. It was the last class of the day, and I find myself to be very happy, even though everyone would look at me if i was positively nutters. I never seem sullen about going to class. I always look so happy. But I have been too tired. Well after this class I can go to the library until dinner, I am rather behind on my Transfiguration work. I am only three weeks ahead in that class, instead of my usual month. The library is my sanctuary, where I can be free to concentrate on my studies, free of distractions from all of my friends who are constantly snogging.

I walk along ever so slowly, because I still have fifteen minutes until class. I just didn't want to stay in the Common room, and watch all of them cuddle and babble about nothing, and snog. It makes me so depressed sometimes, because I love him, and I will never be able to do any of that with him. As I walk along, I look at some of the portraits. One catches my eye. It is of a man and woman, standing in a field, and the sky is lit up with thousands of twinkling stars. It is so beautiful, and the portrait moves around, in the wizardly fashion, with stars shooting across the sky, and the girl running in the field, with the man chasing her about in a grand way. It makes my heart ache, and as I round the corner, my body encounters something warm and solid. I am pushed to the floor, and all my books and papers are strewed about, my bag hanging open. A bottle of ink crashed to the floor, breaking and spilling ink all over my robes and parchments. A piece of glass has lodged itself in my hand. I watch as the blood drips out of my cut, and mixes with the ink. Black on red, red on black. I look up, dazed, at what made me fall and make such a mess. It was him.

"Bollocks! Watch where you are going, Ms. Granger! Ten points from Gryffindor, for your insolence. Next time look up, and pay closer attent- Are you hurt? Silly child, let me see."

He looks at me, papers and books strewn about the floor. My hair is even wilder, because of my fall. I hold up my hand, and I show him, as the blood runs from the cut, and the glass catches the light, as he grasps my cold, clammy, bleeding hand, in his soft calloused one. He looks at the cut, and looks up at my face. I can feel a tear fall from my right eye, and with a tiny plop, it falls onto the piece of glass in my right hand. I stare at the glass, as he speaks, with his voice, like a piece of crushed velvet, to me again...

"Ms. Granger. Ms. Granger...Ms. GRANGER!"

I seem to slowly snap out of my daze, and look into his eyes. For one moment, chocolate brown eyes, meet dark brooding brown ones, almost as dark as the night's sky when there is no moon. I see concern in his eyes, as he looks at me still, obviously waiting for an answer.

"Yes, professor?" I say in a small voice, as his grip on my hand relaxes, and I let the tears fall...

"Ms. Granger, are you alright? Don't cry please, its not a trait of your house to cry. I would expect crying from a Hufflepuff, not from you." With those words, he quickly took out his wand, and murmured a spell. a brief moment of searing pain made me cry out, and he gently said to me. "Hush now girl, I had to take the glass out." I looked at my hand, and it was gone. With another spell, the wound was closed up. The blood on my hand looked garish, because it was dried, and changed from a bright red, to a dull reddish-brown, like dead leaves from a maple.

The blood was like my life. At first it was all bright and full of excitement and desire. But now it is dried out, and worn, like that same maple leaf, brittle and morose. I wish I could tell him how I feel, but I don't think he would ever take me seriously. After all I am a bloody Gryffindor, and we all know he hates Gryffindors, and never listens to them.

My hand being fixed, he let go. With another spell from him, the blood was gone, and the ink spill cleaned up. He had stacked my books and papers neatly beside us, because I was on the ground, and he was crouched beside me. He looked at me, and then, the bell sounding the beginning of class rang. He cursed to himself, and with a swish of his robes, was off down the hall, without another look at me, or anything.

I looked at him until he was gone down the corridor, and then I looked at my things. With a sigh, I picked up my books and things, stuffed what i could into my bag, and gathered the rest into my arms, as I made my way to Arithmancy...as I went, I thought...I love him. Why must I love him? But my heart already knew the answer. You just simply love him. I love him, and I can't help it. I love him...

Author's Note: I hope you guys like, and thanks for reviewing! More to come…