Sometimes by Moonlight is Sculpture

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 01/03/2007
Last Updated: 01/03/2007
Status: In Progress

...I don’t want to, especially when I think I could have gone longer...




1. Sometimes
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**Sometimes**

**This is a oneshot inspired by one of the most awesome bands of this century. Ok, so maybe
that's a little exaggeration, but I really love WHY? They're centered in Oakland, CA, which
is close to where I live, and they have absolutely fantastic lyrics. Whenever I listen to them, I
want to write. So this particular story was inspired by the line down there in italics, and it
comes from a song called Rubber Traits. Now, the story started out a lot more related to the quote,
but it kinda got a mind of its own and now the two are only distantly related. WHY?'s lyrics
are very random and even the lines within a song don't always relate to each other. If you get
a chance to listen to the song, the story has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the song
either. Just to warn you. So, I'd highly recommend checking out WHY? on their producer's
website: anticon.com, but only if you like weird, alternative, underground music. I do.**
**J**

**I don't want to, especially when I think I could have gone longer**

*Number 4 Privet Drive, Smallest Bedroom, 1 o'clock in the morning, Summer before Seventh
Year*

Sometimes the despair hits me and I can't breathe.

I revert to my base instincts. All my lofty, idealistic, unrealistic thoughts of saving the
whole of wizarding-kind evaporate and I realize just how powerless, utterly powerless, I really
am.

The first time it was the protection of my mother that saved me, I had nothing to do with it; I
was only a baby. And the other times were pure luck. I have no special abilities. I've shown
some aptitude for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but what can a 16 year old know compared to a man
who has, to some extent, become immortal? I have nothing compared to Voldemort.

The Boy-Who-Lived.

What bullshit. There are many other boys who have lived. I just happen to be the one whose
living coincided with the impermanent death of the most powerful Dark Wizard in centuries.

What shitty luck.

*Hogwarts Castle, Gryffindor Tower, 7**th* *year Boy's Dormitory,
Dinner Hour, Seventh Year*

Sometimes I wish it hadn't been me. Who wouldn't? But then I think who would have to
deal with all this shit if the Dark Lord, for his own mysterious reasons, hadn't said, “Here,
Harry, I've decided that you're the person who's going to be able to kill me, so
I'm going to kill your parents and essentially make sure you can never be a kid.” Well, I'm
sure he never actually said that, but that's basically what happened.

Neville could have been the one. Little, scared, brave, clumsy Neville. Its funny how I still
think of him as little even though he's passed me up in height.

Neville as he is now could not deal with it. But then, if Neville had been marked, I do not
doubt that he would be a different person than he is now. Would he have an inexplicable affinity
for Defense Against the Dark Arts? Would he be a Parseltongue? Most importantly, would his mother
died to save him? Would he even be alive now?

I can't imagine how I would be if I wasn't the `Chosen One`. I, for one, would have a
family. A family. How wonderful it would be.

The Weasleys are the closest I have to a family, and yet I don't have the same comfortable,
lived-in feeling with them that I see them display with each other. There are some bonds that
cannot be made without constant presence in each other's lives.

And I don`t have that with anyone. No one.

It gets so lonely being the savior of the wizarding world.

And all of this because an unloved boy grew into an unloved man and decided that he needed to
conquer death and exterminate Muggleborns.

It all comes back to Voldemort. My whole life is structured around him. I often wonder what I
will do when…if, I defeat him. Play Quidditch? Ha.

I hate him for all the evil things he has doneoh yes, I hate him for thatbut selfishly, I hate
him the most because he has taken my life from me.

*Pik `n Pay, Muggle London, Noon, 5 months after graduating from Hogwarts*

Sometimes the terror creeps up on me like an insect that crawls up the back of my spine and
tickles the back of my neck, causing me to jerk around and frighten the teenage girl in line behind
me. My heartbeat takes a long time to slow down after such incidents, sometimes not for hours.

And I am exhausted. Exhausted all of the time. Such a heightened state of awareness cannot be
maintained for long, and yet I maintain it. I have to. What else can I do?

Nothing. Not a fucking thing.

There are no other options. Not since I was a year old.

I have no choice. Just like I had no choice in breathing. Just like I have to believe that I
will succeed, because the alternative would be too horrific.

I may wallow in self-pity, but all it takes is one thought of what will happen to you or Ron or
Ginny and I can push the despair and questions and fear away. I do not feel proud of the fact that
it is not the thought of unknown millions suffering that galvanizes me into action, but rather the
thought of those few people who are close to me in pain. But I suppose whatever motivates me.
Because I always have to move forward.

(“May I help the next in line?”)

I have to.

(“Sir? *Sir*, may I help you now, please?”)

I could make no other choice.

*Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Formal Sitting Room, 11:36 at night, One month after the
destruction of the second to last Horcrux*

Sometimes I just need the comfort of a body.

Simply touch me, please.

Nothing sexual, I don't think I could deal with that right now. But please hug me. I need to
know I'm not alone. I need to be somewhere besides my brain. No thoughts, just feelings. I wish
I could be like that all the time. No wishing now, though. I'm simply here. Present moment.

Don't hold me too long, though. I might fall apart and I can't do that.

I just can't.

Let me go when I pull away. I know you think I should cry sometimes, but I can't. I
wouldn't be able to put myself back together. Sometimes you just have to bind the wound and
continue fighting. Continue killing, because that's just what you have to do. What I have to
do. What we all have to do.

I'm sorry I've inflicted this on all of you. No, shh. I know you say it's not my
fault, but I feel differently. None of…them, would have died if not for me. I ordered them
there.

I swear I didn't know.

I swear I didn't.

I still don't know. I don't know anything.

I wish I could know everything. It would be so much simpler…

You'd think being able to do magic would solve all your problems, but it really doesn't.
If anything, it creates more. What if they think up a new spell? How will I fight against it?
Muggle wars are so much more simple. But who needs bombs when you can kill thousands of people with
a flick of a wand?

War. Its funny how such a small word can include so many horrible things. It feels like the word
to describe such a heart-breaking, world-stopping thing would be miles long and unpronounceable.
But no, just one syllable. War.

You like words. Tell me, is there a word that can express this horror, terror, atrocity…evil?
No, I thought not.

Fuck. Shit. Dammit. Crap. Hell…

Hell would probably be the closest word to describe what we are going through.

Oh, sorry for swearing like that. I know you don't like it.

*Number 46 Bush Street, Kitchen, 7:34 in the morning, Exactly 1 month, 3 days, and 43 minutes
after the end of the war*

Sometimes I can't believe you're my…friend? I guess friend would describe you best, but
you're so much more. Besides, we've done some things that are definitely beyond the
boundary of simply friends.

It happens sometimes. I just never thought it'd happen to us. You were always Ron's and
I was always Ginny's. Not any longer. We can't follow them to where they are. Well, you
could, but my life has never truly been my own. Besides, I don't know if I could still function
if you left me too. You say you never will, but how can you promise that?

Don't listen to me. I'm just being selfish and stupid. I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

*Hotel Ashland, 2**nd* *Annual Celebratory Dinner, Public Bathroom, 10:39
at night, 2 years and 3 weeks after the end of the war*

Sometimes, I just need you to *go away*.

Get to fuck out of here! What the hell are you doing in here anyway? It's the fucking
boy's bathroom!

I don't care that I'm distraught, of course I'm fucking distraught! How did you
think I would be! Fine? After that?

Fuck. Just fuck.

What the fuck were they thinking? Would *they* fucking get over their best friend and
girlfriend getting killed because they made a huge fucking mistake?

No, I thought not.

Fucking, bloody hell with whipped cream and icing.

Are all reporters paid to be callous and go directly for what hurts? No, don't answer that
question.

And fuck, it still *hurts*.

*Number 46 Bush Street, Living Room, 1:42 in the morning, 2 years and 7 months after the end
of the war*

Sometimes you get home too late.

Where have you been?

No, actually, I know where you were supposed to be, and I'm not sure I want to know if you
weren't there.

…

How's your partner?

Ugh, why can't I say that without sarcasm?

Bloody Malfoy.

I really, *really*, wish I could blame this on him, but I know I can't. Maybe I should
blame it on your supervisors. Who was the bloody brilliant one who paired you two up? Oh, right,
Johnson. She would have. Would have thought it was funny.

Ah, bloody hell, why do I care so much?

Fuck.

Sorry.

You're right, I shouldn't've stayed up for you. Now I'm all tensed up.

I'm going to go to bed now.

Goodnight.

*Number 46 Bush Street, Kitchen, 9:30 in the morning, 2 months later*

Sometimes I can't imagine where the hell you got the reputation as a nerdy, bookworm even
among your fellow Healers. But then again, I don't suppose they have seen you like this.

Or, they bloody well better not have.

Who knew sex could be like this? Fast, passionate, and still loving? Maybe its because we're
friends too, because it sure as hell isn't like this with anyone else.

Whoops, train of thought derailed by a tongue in the ear. Bloody hell, that feels good, though
the refrigerator handle is starting to get a little uncomfortable to lean against.

But, there goes that problem. Along with all your charts. Oops, I promise I'll clean them up
as soon as I'm done with this.

Oh yes, *this*.

Remember when I first tried this? You laughed at me.

The memory still hurts. Not really, but I can always make you flustered when I bring it up.

Ow, don't hit me! I'm close to a very important part of your body and I could do some
serious damage if I wanted to! Which I don't, but I don't have to tell you that.

Teasing is good for you. You get what you want entirely too often. Who is it who takes out the
trash? Washes the dishes? Even does the laundry? Ok, only half the time.

Bloody dimples. You can make do whatever you want when you smile. Which you're doing
now.

Sigh.

Did you know that your lips are exceptionally soft today? And where is that bloody wand?

Thank god for wandless magic, though I don't think Remus meant me to use it to me when he
taught me how. Though I would willingly put money on him having used it at least once with Tonks.
Damn useful.

Oh yes. I'm bloody well home.

Ha, ha. Corny thought, but true. I suppose you're all I have left. My whole family wrapped
into one. But you can handle it, handle me and my immaturity. Besides you're mature enough for
both of us.

Oh, sorry. Am I not paying enough attention to your Highness? Right away.

*North Street CafÃ©, Table by the Window, 8:45 at night, Six months later*

Sometimes I get a vicious pleasure from making you so mad you look like you'd like nothing
better than for me to walk off a cliff. You get red, and I feel powerful. That's not a healthy
feeling, is it?

It comes at odd times. And I always feel bad afterwards, but it never stops me in the
moment.

I really shouldn't have said anything about Draco, I'm sorry. Not really right
*now*, but I will be.

Maybe, this is jealousy? That's an uncomfortable thought.

I guess it all began when you moved in with me. Even though we had slept together already,
neither of us claimed anything permanent from the other. Rooming together seemed permanent.

And it changed the way I thought about our relationship.

I remember having a thought, *oops, there goes our old friendship*. I ignored it though.
I'm good at ignoring things I don't want to think about. You should know that by now.

It worked so well for me during the war. Guess I never got out of the habit. Probably isn't
the best way to deal with normal problems.

What? I'm sorry, I was having a soul searching moment. Please feel free to tell me how
immature and hateful I am now.

*Number 46 Bush Street, Bedroom, 9:37 at night, Two Years Later*

Sometimes you absolutely astonish me. Its been, what? three years since we first slept together?
And yet you've never done this before. But please, please, please don't stop.

Who'd have thought being on the bottom would be so hot?

You practically attacked me when we came in the door from our date. If I had known what
proposing would have gotten me, I would've done it sooner.

So now you'll be mine forever.

Forever…what a fantastic word. I've never really had a forever before. You'll be my
first.

Ok, so if any of you didn't get it, yes he was talking to Hermione most of the time. Sorry
if it confused anybody that he went from talking to nobody, to talking exclusively to her. Any
other confusion I apologize for as well, but it is supposed to be written like Harry's train of
thought, and I'd don't know about you guys, but my train of thought is distictly odd and
jumpy.

So now to the important bit...

P

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REVIEW!!!

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