Hermione Granger hated mornings. As in, she would cast a shadow on the sun and sleep until noon hate mornings. However, she also got up early. Once she woke up, she could not get back to sleep, and she always woke up around five thirty A.M. She wandered down to the Great Hall to take possession of the coffee pot, the thought of her favorite drink the only thought in her sleep clouded mind.
Blaise Zabini also hated mornings, and his fellow Slytherins found it funny to wake him up around six in the morning. He didn't see anything funny about it. Especially since it was the weekend. His only consolation was he could take the coffee pot, and refuse the other Slytherins coffee. He smiled, and went up to the Great Hall.
When Hermione reached the Great Hall, she made a beeline for the coffee pot and poured herself a mug and added cream and sugar. By the time Blaise Zabini came in, she had had about six cups of coffee. She found it funny to empty the Gryffindor coffee pot, especially since Dumbledore had banned refills of the coffee pot after one scary episode of a third year Gryffindor going crazy from all the caffeine they had ingested.
When Blaise reached the Great Hall, there was one lone figure at the Gryffindor table. She had long curly hair, which could mean only one thing. She was Hermione Granger. He decided to ignore her until he had grabbed the coffee pot. Then he went over and sat next to her. It was their little habit, a quirk. She raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes?"
He asked the question he always asked her. "What do you feel for me?"
He expected her usual answer, which was along the lines of nothing. But this time she answered the question differently. "I pity you."
He was surprised. Why would Hermione Granger, of all people, pity him? "Pity?"
She looked at him, setting her coffee mug down but never letting go of it. "Yes. I pity all of you. I pity everyone in this godforsaken school. I pity everyone in this whole damn world. Because all of them, they can't begin to fathom how wrong this world is. They don't even know this world is messed up."
"What do you mean, this world is messed up?"
"Although Harry didn't do anything, he will probably be killed by Voldemort. Because of my blood, I am hated. People base things on looks everywhere. People start and fight wars over the silliest things. People die without any cause. People are discriminated against because of something they can't even control." She paused to take a breath.
"People think they are doing 'the right thing' while they are doing something wrong. People murder, and abuse, and rape, and steal, and hate because of stupid things. Humanity, for the most part, is idiotic. I really wouldn't mind if all humanity but a few logical and smart people were wiped of the face of this earth. It would probably do almost everything else a favor. And Voldemort discriminates against Muggleborns and Half-Bloods when he himself is a Half-Blood. And no one ever sees what humanity has become. No one ever sees what we're all doing. No one ever sees anything wrong with our world."
He looked at her. Really looked. Not just looking at her as a Mudblood and a Gryffindor, but as a person. And what he saw frightened him. He saw a thin, wiry, beautiful young woman who would be fighting in the war against Voldemort and in all probability take down many Death Eaters. A young woman who would probably, no, definitely, die in the war. And he saw the truth in her words.
He smiled at her. "So, when do we introduce all of humanity to your ideas?"
"Never." Said she.
"What do you mean?"
"They will disregard them. I will right them down, place a charm on the papers so they are not destroyed, and someday people will discover them and see the truth."
"Need any help with that?"
"Yes, but I'm waiting for the right man."
"Oh? Who is he?"
"I think you'll fit the bill."
"Glad to be of service." And he was. A few years later, they had co-authored a book on her ideas. The whole world was shocked. It did nothing to change the world. But it changed them. Perhaps it was meant to be? Or maybe it was just luck. But they became lovers, slowly putting old prejudices behind them. But, of course, the rest of humanity, or at least the wizarding world, wasn't so accepting. So late one night, as they lay in bed in their house, they whispered quickly to each other.
"Zabini. They are coming for us; they'll be here any minute. They'll kill us. I don't know about you, but I see two options. We can commit suicide, or we can go down fighting. I'd prefer fighting, myself. But I am not going to lie here waiting for them to rip me apart and not do anything. Personally, I think we'll have it easier in death. Are you with me?"
"I'm with you, Granger."
And they quickly dressed, kissing as if they were afraid the other would disappear.
Soon the mob was at their house. As the mass of witches and wizards swarmed in, they fought back to back. Firing stupefies and curses everywhere. But there were only two of them, and hundreds of the others. Soon they were weak, wounded, and losing blood fast. They grasped hands quickly, and were finally grabbed from behind. The last thing they saw was Harry Potter standing over them, performing the Death curse on them.
Because, as you know, happy endings never last. Not when the two lovers were Gryffindor and Slytherin, Light and Dark, Yin and Yang, Death Eater and Light sider. It just never works out. Not with humanity the way it is.
