The Sugar Quill
Author: Calypso (Professors' Bookshelf)  Story: It's Not Easy  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The song lyrics are owned by Five for Fighting and their record company.
Author's Note: This songfic is written to Five for Fighting's "Superman (It's Not Easy)". Just a short angsty fic I wrote when I was listening to the song. Enjoy!

It's Not Easy

I canít stand to fly
Iím not that naive
Iím just out to find
The better part of me

He looked up, blinking in the hot sun and pushed his flaming red hair away from his face. His forehead was damp from the humid weather, but he was used to it by now. He had been kneeling near a sick young animal armed with his wand and various healing potions. He now sat back on his heels and watched as the creature took flight. It was beautiful. Golden-red scales glinted in the sun, and he felt an odd sense of desolate seclusion.

Iím more than a bird...Iím more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
Itís not easy to be me

He stood up slowly, watching the dragon fly farther and farther away. Flight had always fascinated him. That was one of the reasons he loved dragons so much. The stunning and dangerous animals were graceful fliers, and magnificent to watch in motion against the clear blue backdrop of sky. He had loved to fly once. But he only flew on the rare occasion that he visited his family. He could have flown and been rich from it. He could have shown the world just what it means to play Quidditch. He could have been great, flying through the air...

He hadn't wanted that. And he didn't want it now. He had been legend in his school. Everyone knew him, admired his talent, he always had a pretty girlfriend...but for what? Flying? He could do more than fly. No one was interested in that though. He had dated plenty of times, but it never lasted. Nothing lasts. You can't fly forever.

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home Iíll never see

The dragon was still visible, barely, in the distance. A tiny splash of crimson against the horizon. Was that the way he was back then? With his red hair and scarlet Quidditch robes, he too was nothing more than a rapidly departing speck, distant from all who stood solidly on the earth. He crossed his arms, his brown eyes fixed dejectedly on the dragon. A ghost of a frown tugged on his nearly impassive face. Overwhelming loneliness crept over him as he stood with his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun. He scolded himself for his depressed spirit. It was my own choice, he reminded himself, to give up Quidditch and work out in the middle of nowhere. He felt a fleeting doubt. Maybe he shouldn't have turned down that offer to play for England...

It may sound absurd...but donít be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed...but wonít you concede
Even Heroes have the right to dream

He sighed. He didn't want fame. That was all Quidditch was good for. But then what did he want?

His mind wandered to his family and he knew. They all had it. He didn't.

His parents had each other. Bill had Fleur, a pretty girl who was quite talented in charms. Percy had Penny, his perfect match. Fred had Angelina, George had Katie...two girls that could match their exuberance. Ron had Hermione, a clever witch whom Ron had finally worked up the nerve to ask on a date. Even his little sister had her first boyfriend, Ron's best friend Harry, the famous Boy Who Lived. They all had someone and they were all happy.

He had no one. And was miserable.

Itís not easy to be me

He pounded his fist against the palm of his other hand in frustration. He could have had his pick from plenty of girls. But he wanted someone that was there for him. Not because of his flying talent. Not because of his popularity. For him. However, just for him there was no one.

Up, up and away...away from me
Itís all right...You can all sleep sound tonight
Iím not crazy...or anything...

The dragon had reduced to a mere speck, and still he watched. He recalled the summer after his graduation from school. Everyone expected him to go play for England, become the next famous name. It came as an utter shock to everyone when he came here instead. To an area of seclusion to research his favorite animals. He had been annoyed at their shock. He had always been good with magical creatures; flying wasn't the only thing he did well. They had given him strange looks, and he knew they were silently wondering why he was doing this. He had left quickly. Packed his bags and left.

I canít stand to fly
Iím not that naive
Men werenít meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

He longed to fly again as he watched the speck that was the dragon. He longed for the wind rushing around him, the exhilaration of the height, the vast, unconfined space...

He shook himself. No. Flying was for children. It was silly to long for something like flying. It wasn't meant to be.

Iím only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me

He had to squint to see the dragon at all now. He tried to ignore the nagging desire for flight. There was nothing up there for him. He wouldn't be able to find what he was looking for up there. No point in wasting time in the sky.

His heart and spirit were truly up there, amongst the blue expanse. He couldn't see that. He didn't know that. And so he stayed with his feet planted firmly on the solid surface of the earth

Itís not easy to be me.

The dragon disappeared completely from view. Charlie gazed in the direction it had gone for a moment longer before turning and walking away.



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