A/N: the italics are descriptions of different pictures
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the rights to Joanna by Hawk Nelson. I am just a fan who doesn't want to offend anyone.
Enjoy :)
I'm getting out this town, Starbucks drive-thru
I reach for my cash and only find pictures of you
Jaden is running away, as fast and as far as he can. His father isn't nearly as crazy as his grandparents had been but he was still proud and cocky too. No one in their family ever ran, not from anything and not from anyone. Even after he had gotten out of his parent's house Jaden's father never quite lost the pride that his parents had literally beaten into him and without really realizing it he had passed that pride along to his own son. Right now, Jaden isn't quite so sure that he really is a clone of his dad after all.
His first pit-stop is twenty minutes from home, in the closest muggle town with a Starbucks in it. He has driven here in the truck he and Joe had rebuilt from the ground up. Her godfather had given it to them as a summer project to keep them occupied and out of trouble over their firs summer holidays. He pushes the pain and the shame and the ache for her aside and reaches for the wallet, where they kept their stash of muggle money, in the glove compartment. He digs and digs and digs and digs and digs. There is no wallet in his glove compartment. He grabs a fistful of whatever is in his way.
Joanna is smiling and waving at him from her porch.
He has his arms around her and her hazel eyes are glowing in the dim light of the evening as they sit under their favorite tree at the edge of the forest behind their houses.
They are at a party. She is wearing a little black dress and her red high heels looking at whoever is holding the camera over her shoulder. She is trying to act as if she doesn't approve of what they are doing but isn't holding back her smile very well. He has one arm around her. He's wearing a tux and looking the other direction out at the other people in the room.
She and her foster brother Jude are sitting in front of the fire in the common room. Their foreheads are nearly touching and they're both looking at a piece of parchment spread out over their laps. They are plotting something.
She is sitting on the couch in their little attic hide away. Her long black hair is in her face while she reads the book resting in her lap. The sun is streaming in through a window behind her and she looks absolutely perfect.
The lady at the window clears her throat. He looks up and into hazel eyes. They aren't as bright as hers. He gives her his thousand-watt-grin anyway and she blushes and smiles back. He makes an excuse, turns away, and mutters a spell under his breath. The wallet shoots out from under the passenger seat and into his waiting hand. He pays for his coffee as he curses the day he finally learned how to work a camera.