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Simple Motions	By : indira Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: Simple Motions
Author: Indira Neill
Pairings: OliverxPercy, suggested Harry+Ron and 'twincest' damn that is a shibby word :D
Comment: What I write means what you want it to mean. Each person finds their own symbolism in what is presented to me. What I intend is of no matter, it is what you interpret. However, this chapter is random babbling. Also it should be fairly obvious at this point this is mildly au.

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I can walk alone because we breathe together.

A simple shared motion.

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I work a bit on my studies while you are at practice. Despite what people seem to think I'm not all that intelligent on my own, I have little natural gift for it. You probably have more natural intellect then I do. Just, I'm willing to work hard, I have to work hard. I have the drive to do well, to work for my goals, ambition. The drive though is my brothers hanging above me, pushing me to be the best. I've made it this far, to Head Boy, but there is still further I can go, I know it. As long as I work, I can take myself farther then anyone else. I hope you understand, that you understand in time we will have to seperate. We'll need to, as we are distinct individuals. Too different to be one whole. It's tearing me apart inside.

Oh but I forget, you can't hear inside my head. Well, for a moment now I will pretend that you can. It works out best for the both of us this way, because what I'm going to tell you I don't want you to know. As in I want someone desperately to help me but I'd rather keep my tragic side hidden, a scar seared on my chest for only god to see, to bey shy shame alone. And yes, I am quite taken with Muggle literature.

Yes, well, it started when I was, a third year, yes, about then. That's when I meet Penny, she was sweet and pretty and much nicer to me than anyone else. Smart too, well, she isn't in Ravenclaw for nothing. I would see her in the halls between classes and we would talk and laugh. We started spending a little time out of classes too when we were fourth years. She wanted more then anything to be a prefect just like I did. Oh and maybe I should explain my motivation for wanting to be a prefect as well.

As a Weasley, certain things are expected of you. First, that you are placed in Gryffindor. Oh I suspect that I was much more suited for Ravenclaw, and George and Fred, who knows where they belong, there is no house for annoying twits. And yes, I do love my brothers, in that sort of distanced love way. The second is that whatever you are you must be the best at it. Put your entire heart into it. Perhaps that is why we are all placed into Gryffindor, the bravery to lose ourselves completely and utterly. Well, since I was never a healthy child, and had little skill on a broom Qitchitch was out of the question, I decided I wanted to be the best student I could. I decided to become a perfect and Head Boy, and well I got my wish. It was what my heart wanted the most.

Fifth year came and we were both prefects. I was so happy for her and her for I. We tell each other everything even now, though our public meetings are for show. She knows just how I've felt about you, well, about boys in general. And while I'm rambling on I suppose I should also talk about Ron since he's been in my thoughts more then usual as of late.

I do not in any way think Ron's situation is remotely like mine. Although we'll have similar ends, the means are so drastically different. He is going to be with his best friend, it is a simple matter of them taking their relationship one step further then is considered the norm for two boys. Ron isn't, he's not, Ron isn't a homosexual. It's so odd to even think that word, it's like breaking a rule. I despise and loath that word. It sound dirty in my mind and on the tip of my tongue, like acid as an antidote. So painful and wrong but it's the only way out. The only release from torment. But it's the truth, I am a homosexual, Ron is not. I don't think he would ever be attracted to a man other then Harry. It's just the way the world turned out. It's just fate. Divination and all that rubbish. Could have been different, but it's not.

That is why my situation is different then Ron's. Ron and Harry will be side by side forever. To me, you will be just another boyfriend in the end. I love you now and you love me now in a silly teenaged sort of way. I will have other boyfriends as my life moves on, you will have girlfriends and on occasion perhaps you will fall for a boy or two along the way. We will remember each other fondly. Perhaps years from now we will meet again and part of our tragic past love will be rekindled for a few brief hours. Then you will leave me like the tragic hero you are, a broken princess longing in the dark.

You know how our story began and I know how it will end. Tragically. Because that is what I search for in my life more then love, more then rules, more then breathing, I search for Tragedy. Because I am the lost child, the middle son. And I am so unlike the others. I manage to neither stand out nor blend in. I am fighting just to breathe here and the only way I will be heard is in my own personal tragedy. But it's not time yet. I still have years to go. Years at the ministry ahead of me. But in the end the prince will be his own undoing. The hero may try as he might now, but he will be off to slay larger dragons, he will leave the prince alone to contemplate his life, and in time other heroes will try as well, but someone destined for tragedy will meet nothing but it. I have done myself in.

I can hear your heavy footsteps as you enter the dorm room. I turn my body to face you, your face is covered with dirt which seems unexplainable considering Quidditch is played so high above the ground. You're all scratched and bruised but look like you've been having the time of your life. Do you realize you bleed friendliness sometimes? I can't help but smile, only you could make me smile.

"How on earth did you manage that?"

"Had a little run in with a goal post."

Your smile is so broad and warm and inviting. I don't even want to resist it. My lips cover yours and I can feel the earth upon it. You really do taste like the outdoors in a literal sense now.

"I think you need a bath."

"I know I need one."

"Well then, grab your things and follow me."

I know exactly what makes me so bold, it's rather simple to explain. I'm in love with the idea of love. That wicked little smile is still clinging to the corners of your mouth. I lead the way down the corridors to the prefect bathroom. There could be others in there but it doesn't very well matter as they would be just as embarrassed as we would. I highly doubt it anyway. I whisper the password ("Oak Brook") and the look of delight on your face is just enough for me. I lock the door behind us and start turning on the taps.

The multicolored bubbles fill both the large tub and the air around us. Each a perfect circle floating ever upwards in it's infancy and rupturing as the strain of the world around it becomes too much for its delicate surface. They never mature, they die as newborns.

By the time I've completed my task you are already submerged in the foamy water. Nervously I work the buttons on my dress shirt and slip out of it. My pants following soon after. I'm hesitant to remove the last barrier and somehow you understand and advert your eyes. Once I am in the water as well you turn back to face me. You've already managed to clean yourself up rather well.

"I can tell now what the big deal about being a prefect is."

A single motion and I can't tell where you end and I begin. The water is the same tempature as our skin and everything runs into everything else, like feeling nothing and everything all at once. You're mouth feels hotter and wetter then anything else around me and it's all I can focus on. I love being a teenager in love.

Your hands press down on my hips so I sit on one of the stairs of the bath and fluidly, as if you were flying you are over me. What you don't realize is in this world I am a better flyer then you could imagine and I slip away swimming quickly to the other side of the pool, teasing. You follow but it's obvious that I do out perform you here. In the air you could certainly capture me but I am far more graceful in water. But I don't want to run forever. I let you catch me and there is a look of pride on your face. Beaming with childlike innocence. Too soon that will all be lost.

Simple motions and nothing more.

Innocence crushed by ambition.
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Simple Motions