Chapter 1 : The Way the World Goes Round
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Each of her smiles as brilliant as her bright blue eyes. Each movement as graceful and smooth as the reflections in her auburn curls. Each intelligent word a melody off her smiling lips. And for a while, he had himself convinced that every moment he spent admiring her from afar had been simply because of the fact her parents were too well known for her to be ignored.
She was his light.
Despite the sorrowful occasion, he had never felt as thrilled and surprised as he did on the day he sat by her on their Advanced Potions class. It was the first time someone looked beyond all the rumors his name carried along and actually offered to see him for who he truly was.
Although doubtful and cautious at first, her smile was as sincere as always. And that one time, that smile belonged only to him.
And ever since that moment, he had had the opportunity to admire her from close as well.
The brilliance she showed on their classes, the ease with which she spoke and befriended, the mischievous gleam of her eyes, the slight laughing dimple on her left cheek even when she was serious, all the little happy things that seemed to follow her everywhere she went, it made him almost happy as well. Happy because he had been privileged to share that happiness with her.
And he was so rarely happy. Silent and withdrawn, closed in the little group of fellow Slytherin simply because his father had belonged to the same group with their fathers in his time, but more often seen alone and studying.
No connections, no trouble.
It was his little mantra. He was the mysterious loner with a bad family reputation. He wouldn’t have minded being completely unnoticeable as well if not for his father’s looks that threw many a virtuous female into a dreamy daze. He never liked that kind of attention.
However, as long as She noticed him, it was alright. As long as her smiles found their way towards him, as long as she still had the time for a midnight conversation on the Astronomy tower while he gladly tutored her in the dreaded subject, as long as she still felt as eager for yet another of his attempts to beat her in a game of Wizard chess. As long as she was around, he was selfishly content.
Yet, he was still the dark.
The room he slept in was in the dark, the people around him were the dark. Hatred and prejudices and cruelness couldn’t just disappear over night and their friendship had soon been tested. And they have soon been torn apart. And not even the Cruciatus curse could have pained him more than the hurtful words she had spoken to him that day.
However, that pain also brought him to another day he would never forget. The day when he finally tasted those smiling lips.
The world was still prejudiced and disgustingly hypocritical, the people still ignorant and blind with resentment, yet he had gained his little piece of heaven and it was enough to make him content.
Yet, the contentment felt impure.
Because every secret note he passed, every single time he pulled her in the darkness of forgotten corridors, he would feel as if betraying the loyal light by tainting it with his impure lips. But her eyes still glistened amidst the shadows and he became content again for she seemed to feel content. And her smiles were again as bright.
But this time, they were only as bright for him.
And another small light began to ignite, this time within his heart. A warm light promising to turn him into perfection she deserved.
The third moment forever alive in his memories would have to be the serene expression of her face while she peacefully slept in her bed in the Gryffindor tower.
It was the first time he had awakened her with his kisses, each and every one of them as sweet as any other, neither even suspecting it would be their last. She had smiled happier than ever that morning and he had felt his entire soul swelling with joy as well. He had never felt happier. He had never felt as alive.
But darkness always consumes the light in the end.
One horrible scream was all it took to shatter the happy little balloon he had longed to live in.
One terrifying, agonizing, hopeless scream so different from the melody that was her voice and he had already knew he never wanted to hear anything as terrible again. One sign of laughter from someone in his company. One look at her crumpled body in the centre of the Quidditch field, scarlet blood marring her flawless face, now so deformed with fear and agony. Scarlet blood seeping, drenching her scarlet robes, sticking into her cherry-wood hair, pooling on the emerald grass.
One sign of his heart stopping its beat at the sight and he knew he would never permit her in such danger ever again. Never would he allow her getting hurt because of his past again, because of the selfish resentment of the unchanged world.
He could feel himself bleeding as he forced his hand into writing one final letter to end it all.
She was well in a while. Her steps again bouncy and full of life, her smiles again sincere and gentle to everyone, him admiring her from afar once again.
But in her eyes still remained some of the darkness. His darkness.Never again did they return to being as bright.
Never had he wished more to be able to turn back time.So many times had he caught himself reconsidering that little Memory charm, to wipe all of the memories on her smiles from his mind, to return to being a simple observer of her light as he was before.
Somehow, it never seemed right.
She was not pure light anymore. Because of him she had lost that carefree note to her smile. Because of him her eyes had never sparkled the same again. He had tainted her too much, it simply wouldn’t be fair.
Yet, it never was.
Some years later, as he stood next to his father by the antique fireplace on a glamorous memorial service for the fallen War heroes, he had still tried to convince himself that the azure embodiments on his midnight blue robes were not chosen for reminding him of her smiling eyes. Sipping on the bubbling champagne, he had even mentally scolded himself for noticing how the shimmering golden liquid reflected the crackling embers in a color so similar to the shades of her hair.
And he made yet another secret plea for forgetfulness, for a chance to be able to look at his fiancé at the same loving way, to feel the same thrill and joy when holding her in his arms.
Lightly clinging to her husband’s arm while entering the elaborately decorated hall, she had stubbornly decided a silken green robe discreetly decorated with silver designs was chosen simply because it looked lovely on her. Most definitely not because it reprimanded perfectly the way his platinum strands fell over the emeralds he called eyes.
No, she had forgotten about him just as he had requested.
But if so, why had she subconsciously been dreaming there was someone else sharing her bed each night instead of her husband? And why did it made her feel such guilt afterwards? She had forgotten, hadn’t she?
Across the dance hall, blue and green met.
She turned away, the light of her eyes darkening yet again.
He admired form afar, as he had done so many years ago.
She was cold and devoid, the forced brightness of the outside never again as magical.
He was dead inside, even the darkness left the nothingness he had become.
None of them spoke, no words appropriate. No one speaks of a secret affair once so well hidden. It’s just not meant to be.
Somehow, they both know it never was.
It is just the way the world goes round.