Hi lovlies, this is a one-shot I have written for the Quotes For All Occasions Competition and I hope you like it. Please review to let me know if it's any good. The quote used is by Catherine Deneuve. Review please.
Love is suffering. One side always loves more.
Catherine Denueve
He watched her intently as she walked down the street, her back straight, head held high, she had always been proud and confident, majestic, like a peacock, but he could always see through her façade, see that although she was confident, she wasn't above having insecurities, not unlike himself. He always saw them, the way she would always give herself a once over to see if she was correctly dressed, going over her notes to be sure to have not made any mistake, he saw these things although he didn't, it was as if he was utterly clueless of them and it cut him like a knife that he, who she decided to spend her entire life with, didn't understand them. He fell for her act of confidence, but he didn't, he saw right through her.
As she disappeared out of sight he went back to his house, The Malfoy Manor. He never considered the house to be his home, it was just a manor he had inherited. He wasn't particularly fond of living here, but he made himself live here. He could still hear her voice echoing throughout the living room where he could still remember how his aunt had tortured her, for being a muggleborn. He had wanted to stop her even then, but he had been too much of a coward to do it and that was the reason he forced himself to continue living in this Manor. If only he had had the guts, the courage to intervene and stop his ruthless and ferocious aunt from torturing her.
He could still remember the first time he saw her. She had been standing with her parents, who had been wearing muggle clothes while he looked on them in contempt, his parents were quick to recognize her as a muggleborn and had warned him to stay away from her and also encouraged him to beat her at everything and show her her rightful place. Beneath them, purebloods. Then, it hadn't taken a lot of effort for him to discourage himself from being away from her. He did not find her even remotely beautiful, and had thought to himself that he would never be attracted to her. O how wrong he had been.
He could also remember the first time he felt something towards her, it wasn't during the Yule Ball, no, it was when she had punched him. Yes, it was weird, but she had proven to him that she wasn't afraid to stand up to him, and she did it on every occasion she felt he was being an ass. He fell for that, and not just that, she managed to outshine him in every single class, even in Potions.
He also remembered the Yule Ball, remembered that it was the first time he had seen her look so beautiful, but something wasn't right, he had just felt it and had had a brief conversation with her.
The night had almost come to an end, his date for the night, Pansy Parkinson had left when he didn't pay any attention to her throughout the night, but he couldn't help it, he couldn't take his eyes off her, she looked beautiful, but he hadn't liked that.
He was on the way to the dungeons when he saw her on the staircase, tears running down her face, and his heart constricted painfully in his chest, and despite every protest made by his rational mind, he went over and sat down on the step beside her.
"What do you want?" she asked, not even looking at him, but before he could answer, she spoke "are you here to tell me that I made a fool out of myself by dressing up or are you here to laugh at my face, huh?" when she did look up, he saw that her eyes were red and puffy from crying, since when was she crying? He felt a strange desire to go punch the person who made her cry.
"You shouldn't have done all this". He said looking into her brown eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.
"Oh, and why is that? Because I would never look beautiful, no matter what I did. I know that". He frowned hearing her words, and the next words which left his mouth were impulsive.
"Not because you're not beautiful, but because you didn't have to go through all these efforts to look beautiful. You look beautiful even when your hair isn't done, and when you haven't worn any make-up, you look beautiful even when you're not dressed up, you look a hundred times more beautiful because that beauty is not made up of spells, but because it's you. You don't need to do anything to look beautiful, because you are naturally beautiful". He immediately got up and went away wondering what had compelled him to say these things to her out loud.
As he came out of his reverie he also recalled how he had ruined everything by speaking with Rita Skeeter, he sure hated that woman.
He also remembered the time in his fifth year when he had joined the Inquisitorial Squad, he had captured Potter and his friends, which inevitably and unfortunately included her. There was no way he could've helped her without revealing his true intentions to join the Squad, to help protect her in some way. So, when she left with Umbridge and Potter, he himself attacked his fellow members in order to help the others to escape.
Finally coming out of his memories and guilt, he carried out his evening routine and just before he went to bed, he thought of the last time he talked to her, the end of the Battle.
"What are you doing here?" He asked as he saw her sitting in one of the many passages of the school, and walked to her. Why wasn't she celebrating with the rest? She turned to face him and he noticed the tear tracks on her face.
"What does it have to do with you?" She countered his question with her own.
"Nothing. You're not celebrating with the rest and I find that curious". He sat beside her at a considerable distance.
"Why should I tell you?"
"I don't know. You can't even trust me, for all you know but whatever it is could either be what you consider extremely selfless or extremely selfish. Considering you aren't telling Potter or Weasely you reckon it's selfish. And I'm the only person who won't judge you". He reasoned with her although he knew it was a rather stupid one.
"I miss my parents. Around a year ago, I obliviated them, so that they wouldn't remember me and go to Australia away from the War. I can't tell Harry because he just lost Remus, his only remaining parental figure and I can't tell Ron because he just lost Fred. Compared to them, all my parents are going to need is a counter spell and profuse apologies". When she had finished, he saw her in an entirely new although not very different light; he had always known that she was selfless but up to this degree, he just found out today.
"Okay".
"How can you live with yourself?" He turned to look at her and was greeted with a sight he was quite familiar with, her face contorted with hatred and loathe, the mere sight of it constricted his heart. She would never look at him in any other way then that.
"What do you mean?"
"You tortured eleven year old kids and so many other innocent people, yet here you are acting as if none of that ever happened".
"If I hadn't done that, then he would've killed me and my parents. And I know that we probably deserve it considering everything that we have done till now, but I'm selfish and I didn't want to lose my life or my parents".
"So you tortured people?"
"Yes, I did".
"You disgust me".
"I know and I probably deserve that too". He got up after that and left without looking back.
The next day, he watched her yet again, this time walking with him, and his heart constricted painfully yet again. He watched as she laughed at something he said and wanted nothing more than to be there with her, wanted nothing more than to be the one who would make her laugh, but he knew that would never happen so he turned around and walked away, not seeing that she looked back to catch his retreating back and also missed the look on her face, so similar to the one on his face when he watched her.
He was in love with her, and she felt something for him, but it was nothing compared to what she felt for the man standing next to her. So she turned and walked away and that was the last she saw of him, although it wasn't the last he saw of her.