She watched him carefully, as the candlelight lit his perfectly sculptured features. The curl of his lip and it lifted into a smirk. The dark eyes that watched her, with a hungry possession in their pitch depths. She would have never imagined that any eyes could ever be the exact shade of black, though she was proved wrong when his eyes raised to meet hers for the first time.
His cold fingers trailed over her heated cheeks, down her throat, before he retracted them quickly, the hunger in his eyes vanishing, leaving behind only the cruelty that she became to recognise at Lord Voldemort. The red light flashed in the dark orbs as his smirk contorted into a feral snarl.
She never meant to be in this situation. It was an accident, a small accident with massive consequences, but an accident. She watched her best friend defeat the bane of his existence and rushed forwards to congratulate him. If only she had been more careful, if only she hadn't slipped and fell. The wave of sickness descended over her as she blacked out. She appeared, out of nowhere, cut and bruised with a sprinkling of dusk around her, and a broken hourglass dangling from her neck. He had watched her intently, she in return watched him, though instead for a different purpose. It hadn't taken long before she had fallen for him.
"Silly Hermione Granger," he murmured as his finger traced her jaw line. She whimpered as his sharp nail punctured her skin. He laughed, a cold soulless sound that made her shiver. Then he struck her, causing her to fall to the cold stone floor, to his feet.
"Stupid, little Hermione Granger," he spat on her, and she curled into a ball clutching her throbbing cheek, in an attempt to shield herself from him.
"Love, you speak of?" he asked, pulling her hair, forcing her to look him in the eye. She whimpered again, nodding stiffly. He barred his teeth at her, before attacking her lips with his own, bruising the sensitive flesh and drawing blood with his teeth. She whimpered again, for she was only a broken shell of her former self. She became irresponsive as he ripped the clothes from her body, whispering the incarnation that would remove his own, of course. He entered her and she cried out as pain filled her body and waited for it to be over, to be free.
She watched as he finished and speak the incarnation that would clothe him.
"I hate the word, for it does not exist," he said quietly, before leaving her shivering on the floor, as tears made their way from her eyes and down her cheeks.
How could he? She thought back and realised he never really loved her, she was only a toy for him. She loved him, insanely. But now he ruined her, broke the girl that was once called the brightest witch of her age.
And as she sobbed openly on the cold floor, she only processed one thought.
You're the boy who murdered love.