act iv
by Silvia
Every hero has his song and dance.
You look like you're losing until you pull through, last minute, and everybody loves you except for the people who aren't allowed to; if they did, you wouldn't notice. There are monsters you can slay and monsters you must evade by closing your ears and eyes to them. You live and it's still the most special thing about you.
That will change.
The song has a looping chorus that sings, 'Pull up a chair and sit down with your shadows beside you. Watch your table and your teacher and send parchment with snow-white wings. Take mark of your enemies. Forget five seconds, just five seconds of the flurry of days that have gone past.'
It whispers, to save you, ''Don't listen to their screams.'
The dance has two steps - step forward, kick, and step back - and it's so close to the Charleston that you must have the Muggles in your blood, and that's why it's so easy to love them.
In your dreams you're waltzing, but they're dreams so you can do that. They are blurred with ash and the boy and his hands and his fingernails, and those seconds spread out into hours, but that's okay because you need to do this sometime and you can't do it awake.
You tell yourself, later, that he was laughing at you. You picture his face.
You have birthdays and wash blood from your forehead and arms, and they say that means you're getting older. You say, "thank you," and tell yourself you mean it, and watch the Sorting Hat sing a new tune every new term and tell yourself you like yours just fine.
Sometimes you can slip on your cloak at half-past midnight and slip out the dormitory door, padding through the hallways until you reach the Great Hall and a window. The hedges glisten from moonlight and the distant meow of Mrs. Norris is the only sound you hear.
Your nights are your days and your days are your days and you don't sleep very much.