Title: Untitled

Author: Metallicafangirl

In the dark of the Slytherin dorms, the scratching of a quill disturbed the night's silence. Occasionally, the plinking sound of a guitar-string being plucked rang, and then the scratching resumed. The sounds came from Blaise Zabini's desk, where a lone candle was still alight.

He had an acoustic guitar in his lap, and a concentrated expression on his face. He was writing on a piece of parchment, and would occasionally interrupt himself to play shortly on the guitar. On the parchment, lines were being written and re-written, scratched out and dismissed completely, before being written once more when he changed his mind. Usually, when he wrote, he didn't change his mind as much as now, but it wasn't a normal class-assignment, or homework.

He was writing a song.

It was something he did every now and then, when everyone else had gone to sleep, and couldn't hear him whisper to himself and play quietly on his guitar. He tried to keep it secret, since he was rather sure they'd all laugh at him. They didn't even know he could play.

After some hours in the dark, the sing was in as finished a state as it would ever be, and he put down his quill and read through it one final time in the flickering light of the candle.

God must have tired of hearing,
The same old tale,
Every day, I'm just an angel,
With my wings for sale,
Every night, I'm just a demon,
with no lord to hail.
My feathers are far from my grasp,
Far and wide they have scattered,
As loneliness and sorrow,
My soul has shattered,
Into tear drops, down my cheeks,
It was long since they mattered
Heaven does not let me in,
so I am left standing in the rain,
Watching the gates of gold,
That gave us nothing but pain,
The guilt and blame,
Is too much for us to remain sane
Even angels can fall,
Walk the endless road, just as you,
They can stumble and break,
Bleed as you do,
But just as you, just as everyone,
They must see it through.
But I am not strong enough,
Trapped in one place for too long,
I have fought to break free,
But I still don't belong,
I want to soar and fly,
Ride on the winds
Touch the face of God
But I can't.

Today hadn't been a good day, and as a result, the song tended towards the moody side. They would laugh at him if they knew who is muse was, what inspired him.

It just wasn't accepted of a Slytherin to spend his nights writing songs because of Hermione Granger.

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