DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, which is lame! I don't own the lyrics either! My life is lame! They're Finger Eleven's and the song is called Paralyzer!

So I feel the need to say this, I have twenty-three chapters! The longest I've ever had on a single story! Ever!

XoXo

I hold on so nervously
To me and my drink
I wish it was cooling me
But so far, has not been good
It's been shitty
And I feel awkward, as I should
This club has got to be
The most pretentious thing
Since I thought you and me
Well I am imagining
A dark lit place
Or your place or my place

I woke up on September 2nd with the sun pushing its way through my open curtains. It took me a little while to remember where I was, but as soon as I did, I jumped out of my bed and ran to my trunk. I pulled the robes that were laid on the chair beside my bed on and ran my fingers through my long hair. I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and bounded down the stairs two at a time. The lavatories were full of giggle sixth and seventh years, including Victoire. I saw her long blonde hair and went over to her, hugging her around her waist. She looked down and let out a warm laugh.

"Hey, stranger. What are you doing up?" she asked warmly, hugging me back. I laughed and then glared at her when she ruffled my hair. "Hey! What is that look for?" Her normally warm green eyes were now filled to the brim with questioning and I saw a little bit of hurt and pain.

"You messed my hair up!" I grumbled, doing my famous pout. She turned away and made the mascara in her hand fly onto her eyelashes. She then ran her brush though her long, yellow silk. I looked up at Victoire and intently watched her methods of getting ready for the day. She turned her gaze back to me and smiled, handing me her brush. "What's the brush for?" I asked, taking the brush from her.

"Since I messed your hair up, fix it," she replied, inspecting me as I inspected the brush. It was beautiful!

"Where did you get this?" I whispered, in awe of the beautiful thing in my hands.

"I got it for my birthday from mum and dad," she said with a small smile. "They decided that I was old enough to take care of it, so they let me have my mother's brush. It's a family heirloom."

"Really?! That's so cool! I kind of wish my parents were alive so that I could have something like that," I smiled. She smiled sadly at that and then patted me on the head. "What's wrong?"

"Don't wish your mother alive, she caused much more havoc then it was worth," she said, walking out of the lavatory with me.

"But how do I know that she wasn't corrupted and changed into thinking that?"

"Because she wasn't. It was all choice!"

"But how do I know?!"

"Just trust on me on this!"

"No! I can't! I have to believe that there was some good in her; otherwise I would be a traitorous daughter! Just leave me alone and let me think what I want! I'm tired of people saying that she was evil! What if she wasn't!?" I stormed away with anger burning in every atom of my being and I could feel hot tears stinging my eyes. I sank down on a chair and let the sobs over take me. A song played in my head over and over again.

"Well I'm not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you're standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you

I hold out for one more drink
Before I think
I'm looking too desperately
But so far has not been fun
I should just stay home
If one thing really means one
This club will hopefully
Be closed in three weeks
That would be cool with me
Well I'm still imagining
A dark lit place
Or your place or my place

Well, I'm not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you're standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you

Well, I'm not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you're standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you

I'm not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you're standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you

You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you

You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you"