Drarry Oneshots

What if?

This is another scrap from a book that I've written in the past that I gave up on. Takes place in first year, and they never met at the sorting hat scene.

-

Draco,

You are a part of the stars. Everything you do, it all connects back to them. My curiosity of astronomy grows every time I see you. Is there a constellation for love? Because when I die, I am going right with that constellation, right near you, looking and seeing what you're doing. Whether it be you're reading, or you're just sleeping, I want to be a part of it. You're the only thing that makes me keep on going, to live another day. The stars hold up the sky every night and even when they are not present, they still hold up the sky every day. That reminds me of you. You hold me up, give me all your strength, and even when it seems you are not there, you are. It makes me love you to the moon and back. The stars in your eyes help me get lost in them, but I love it everytime. The next time I see you, I'm going to cover you with all of my kisses, all of my love, and we will fall onto the clouds and be happy. I miss you.

Lots of love,

HP

I sigh and close my notebook. That makes me look way too cheesy...and sappy, worst of all. Are men usually cheesy people? I doubt it. Do I do all of this to make myself feel worse than I already am? Probably. I glance over to the side of my desk, looking at my phone. I should text him. Maybe I can have my little escape for a while, it would be calming and lovely. Except...they probably won't respond, especially not now. It's around 4:00 a.m, I doubt they're awake. Once they go to sleep, you can almost never wake them up. I open my journal and I grab a pen. I place the tip of the pen on the paper, trying to write something. To open up. To feel something, other than pity for myself. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts. Damnit. Why can't I ever write something? I'm so exhausted from this. I cave in and I start writing something. But not about me. About another would, another place, different people. Is this why people write? To not only escape reality, but to escape their own skin? And when it becomes too much, and they feel as though there is no time in the world that can save them from their anxiety and stress, they write to free themselves. The only unfortunate thing is when you're absolute crap at it, and when you do think you wrote an absolute masterpiece, people tear it to shreds, repeating the same words that everyone else does.

"You're not good enough, you're not good enough."

Those words want me to indulge in sadness, crouched down, sobbing, breaking down. One day, I hope I have enough strength to keep going, to make an impact on others, and myself.

For now, I'll just lay my head down on my arms, and close my eyes, to finally have my pathetic 2 hour sleep until my day starts up again. Dear god, will you save me?

~

I never slept. My eyes remained open the entire time. I glance at the clock, 6 a.m. I have to go to school in a few hours. It would be better to get up now, wouldn't it? But I don't. I never have the motivation, nor the mental capacity, to be ready and go to school. But it is Hogwarts, and the Dudley's tried so hard to take it away from me. I cannot comprehend why this is starting to become such an increasingly difficult task.

I am stuck in an endless loophole, repeating the same actions everyday. Wake up, eat, school, work, sleep. It's an endless cycle. Forever, until I drop dead. I'm tired of it. I need a nap. But I'm much too undeserving of it, hm? I always complain. I complain way too much. Perhaps that's my issue.

I roll out of bed, watching the floor as if there was a show on it. I ponder, and stare, for a good while before I blink back into consciousness. I continue getting ready, brushing my hair, brushing my teeth, the usual. I was barely even there. My mind was in a different world, living a different life. Perhaps I'm a famous celebrity that has millions of dollars. Perhaps I'm in fact a farmer, or someone who likes themselves. But once I snap back to reality, it hits down like a truck. It's horrible. I wish I was that celebrity.