Wake me up

It’s been a while! I reread my only fanfic and I realize my writing style has changed so much from my original “Love Will Find a Way”. So I’m rewriting the whole story to have more developed ideas and characters with more plot development. I really hope you guys like it. Please give me feed back. I love to hear from you guys!

Disclaimer: Like any other disclaimer, this one basically says the same thing. I don’t own anything. But this possibly failed attempt at a plot.

Here goes…

I checked myself in the mirror. I looked at the bloodshot eyes that stared back at me. Sleep was something I definitely lack. I tugged at the stringy, fiery mess of tangles. I sigh and trudge back over to my bed. I threw the still-warm covers over my head. And a feeling of safety and comfort washed over me. This was my haven, where I was safe from the world.

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I knew my mission, I would have no trouble completing it. Earlier this summer, my father brought me, for the first time, to the place I had grown up knowing I would eventually go. Voldemort’s palace was definitely what I imagined it to be. Cold and damp, with the smell of rot and decay that makes one dizzy. My father threw me down at his knees. At his whims. I shuddered at what I was instructed to do that night. I really should have a simple time. This task was the only thing keeping me from my pre-chosen path. All I had to do was complete it. Easy. But… but… if it she was so unimportant to me, why did it feel so wrong?

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Being back at Hogwarts was exactly as I imagined it to be. Boring, life was plain. In a way, this was a blessing, no news means good news right? Truthfully though, I wished I was more than plain Jane. I wish I was more beautiful, more popular, more smart, more of anything. Even if I was great at one thing but bad at everything else, I would be satisfied. Anything but being average. I’ve never been the pretty girl. People could say I’m the smart girl, but I’m nothing compared to Hermione. I’m not the sporty girl, nor the tomboy. I’m not the popular girl nor the rich priss, the class clown, nor the anything at all. I’m just average. Sure I’m better than others at some things, but I’m never the best. I’ve never excelled.

When it comes to guys. I’m always the nice girl they tell all their problems to. The friend. Sure I’ve had some guys like me, heck some even fall for me head over heels, but they’ve all had something missing from them. Not in the physical sense, or anything like that, but something about them didn’t have that characteristic, that charisma, that drove chills up and down my spin, sent butterflies pounding in my stomach and that lump in my throat that kept me from saying a single word.

I’ve waited all my life for that prince charming. Ever since my first bedtime story, that of sleeping beauty and her true love, I’ve patiently stood by. While others fell to their hormones and to pressure, I’ve stood by, dreaming that one day my prince would ride up to me in a silvery white stallion, lift me off my feet and ride off into the sunset. But lately my faith in my fairytale ending has quickly declined. Maybe it is the pressures of sixth year. The work load. Everything about it. Maybe being the listener and mothering everyone has finally gotten to me. But somehow, my stable, shielded world has come crashing down upon me. I desperately wished that I could tell someone, but all I can do is cry in silence. I know people will feel bad for me and comfort me, that isn’t the problem. Well, actually, it is. I’ve never liked to complain because that would force people to feel bad for me. But I know everyone has problems much worst than my own, I refused to tell people of my own worries, fears, and doubts because I didn’t want to burden them with my pointless complaining and self-pity. I’ve always done a good job of hiding my problems and putting up a façade of peaceful cheeriness and innocence. But the pressures seemed to have started piling up lately, forcing me to pay attention to the mountain of gloom -- forcing me to face reality.

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I trudge into the Great Hall. Looking over to the Gryffindor table, I stared in awe at the clumsy redhead. She seemed to have knocked over yet another platter of food. She blushed one of her blushes that creeps over her entire round face making her seem like a speckled tomato.

She rushed out of the Hall to clean her soiled blouse. How typical. As I stared I didn’t notice the steady stream of orange juice I poured onto my lap. It wasn’t until the cold went liquid made contact with my skin that I realized I had pulled a Weasley.

I grabbed napkins to wipe myself off but it was not use. The damage was done. I tried to make my way quickly toward the bathrooms a floor up, careful to avoid showing my front to the school lest I get ridiculed -- after all, my job is to intimidate, not entertain, I’ll leave that to Finnigan and Dean, those Gryffindor idiots. I got some questioning looks but all-in-all I made it safely out of the Hall. I made my way for the restrooms looking back to check for people that could possibly witness my state of messiness, when my ankle hit a lump growing out of the stairs. I tripped and my head hit the polished wooden banister. I rubbed the throbbing swell on my forehead but I noticed the small figure curled into a ball that I had previously thought of as a growth.

What?

“Sorry. Are you alright?” I inquired with a little more force and anger than I anticipated.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was in you way,” a small voice responded

As the triple vision melted back to one and my headache dull down, I noticed the flaming red curls of the frail, freckled, and pale frame.

“Weasley? What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.”

“Well it would be nice if you did nothing somewhere else so some other person would trip over you. I know you Weasleys like being in the way all the time but you shouldn’t let your pointless existence endanger the lives of others.”

“Thanks for the comforting gesture, Malfoy.”

“No problem.”

I made for the bathroom again. A hidden sniffle that my keen ear caught made me turn around. I hated when I saw people cry. I turned around and walked back. I offered her my a tissue.

“Thanks,” she said in a muffled voice.

Without a word I turned around and returned to my original purpose. But not before I caught sight of her face. Her normally porcelain complexion was reddened , not by blushing, but by tears. Something about the sorrow in the her usually warm brown eyes caused my heart to wrench.

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What’s wrong with me? I’ve never had this feeling before. I have always been perfectly fine in my solitude. Why is this loneliness getting to me.

I sighed as I thought. I slowly floated down the hallway. Of course no one noticed that anything was wrong with me. How could I expect them to? I’m a no one, a nothing.

I was so deep in thought that I accidentally nearly mangled none other than Draco Malfoy.

Opps.

But something about how he used a such a sarcastic sense of humor… Something about his normal, mean, and horrible ways made me remember the times when I was happy. The fact that he is insulting and insensitive actually makes me happy. I don’t want people to worry about me. I don’t want anyone to ask, “What’s wrong?” with furrowed brows. Maybe I’m scared people will only pretend to care. Draco Malfoy would never need to pretend to care. Because he doesn’t.

if only I could get into that corner of your head
where things finally match and meet the standards that you set
oh how I wish I was the treasure that you were lookin' for
bet I would feel better if only I could find the door

I am cryin'
you aren't tryin'
I am melting away

I wait for the words on the tip of your tongue
I'm only as good as the last one
well you decide and I abide as my song goes unsung
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

things are goin' crazy and I'm not sure who to blame
everything is changing and I do not feel the same
I'm slippin' through the cracks of floors I thought that were strong
I'm tryin' to find a place where I can feel like I belong

…

if only I could get into that corner of your head
where things finally match and meet the standards that you set
oh how I wish I was the treasure that you were lookin' for
bet I would feel better if only I could find the door

Vanessa Carlton -- Unsung Lyrics

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