Love Doesn't Fizzle

Chapter 1

Sometimes love isn't easily defined. Is it the quickening of your heart? Is it the sweating of your palms? Is it the belief that no one could ever take their place? Or is it the fear of losing that person?

Everyone wants to believe that love is something tangible, that they'll be able to feel it in their hearts and know when it happens but I happen to know that those people live in a fantasy land. Real love, love that will never fizzle out, isn't tangible. Real love creeps in like the icy hands of winter sneaking up under your sweater. One minute you're warm and smiling, enjoying the warmth of that sweater, then a brutal breeze sweeps by and all too quickly you're aware of the cold biting at your fingers and nose. The cold snuck up on you, just like real love will.

A man with dirty blonde hair in his early twenties laid the paperback novel down he had just read from on a dark wood coffee table in front of him and took a deep breath, running his hand through his messy hair. His startlingly blue eyes looked up from the book to the other young man in the room.

"And you don't know where she is? All you can provide me with is this-this book?"

The young man fidgeted nervously, the intensity in the other man's eyes was intimidating and he wasn't ignorant to the articles in the Daily Prophet that told horror stories of this man's temper. There was a particularly nasty story about a week ago that said he put a fellow Auror in St. Mungo's after his co-worker had made a comment about the blonde's father being a Death Eater. He shook his head, he was good at his job, he just had to prove it to this bloke.

"No, sir. She is very hard to track. It is by pure miracle that I became aware of the fact that she is the author of this book. She used a pen name to write it and her publisher was very adamant in telling me that she wished to remain anonymous."

The dark haired man lifted his leg to rest his ankle on his knee and settled back into the leather loveseat before continuing, "This is a big lead; it's the closest we've ever been to finding her. Her publisher is out of New York which means that at some point she had to have been there to make the deal with the publisher. If I can get back into that building and talk to some of the other employees there I might be able to get some information about her appearance now and maybe some clues as to where she currently resides."

The blonde's eyes flashed, his fists instantly clenching till his normally tan knuckles turned stark white.

"I told you what she looks like! How hard can it be to find her? This is your job! You told me you could find anyone in the world and so far all you have is this anonymous book. What am I paying you for, you imbecile?"

The blonde ran his hand through his hair again, only this time it was little more roughly. It was apparent that he was quickly losing his patience. The man he hired, Mr. Donavan, had been recommended to him by another Auror he worked with for being one of the Wizarding World's best detectives but so far he had produced little results and he'd had enough of this man's bullshit. He wanted real results and he wanted them sooner, rather than later.

"Sir, with all due respect, the description you provided me of this girl is from three years ago. Do you really think she couldn't or wouldn't have changed her appearance since then? She is a witch after all, it wouldn't take that much effort for her to be completely unrecognizable", Mr. Donovan said.

His client's face conveyed his annoyance and his fists were slowly opening and closing. A noise that sounded decidedly like a growl slipped from the blonde's lips as he pushed himself up off the dark leather seat in barely controlled rage.

"Well, if that's the best you can do, then you can take your bullshit results and see yourself out of my house. Come back when you actually have something worth reporting", the blonde seethed as he turned and stalked to the small cabinet that housed his liquor. Reaching up he grasped the bottle of Firewhiskey that was already near empty and poured the rest of it into a short glass. A shaky hand raised it to his lips and he took a long swig.

Mr. Donovan stood from his seat, grabbing his manila folder containing the information on this case and walked in silence towards the door.

"I-I will try my best to find her for you sir, you have my word."

The blonde remained silent sipping from his glass and didn't bother acknowledging the speaking man.

Mr. Donovan stopped with his hand on the door knob and quietly addressed his employer one last time, "Oh, and just so you know Mr. Malfoy, I believe she wrote that book about you. You should read some, you might find it interesting."

And with that Mr. Donovan was out the door.

Mr. Malfoy walked slowly back to the leather seat, sitting on the edge and setting his glass down on the table. His tan hand reached out and picked up the novel that lay in front of him. The cover was a deep navy blue with the title in a silver cursive. The Curse of a Lifetime: Love by Rhonda Elaine Dergers. This was the closest he had been to her in years.

His brow crinkled and his mouth turned into a frown as he read who the author of the book was. 'Rhonda Elaine Dergers?' he wondered. Why the bloody hell had she picked that as a pen name. It was nothing close to her real name, except for the first letter. But it wasn't her initials and a name like that certainly wasn't a nickname.

He carefully opened the cover of the book and began flipping through the first couple of pages: publisher's information, a table of contents, and a dedication. He stopped on the dedication and sat up straighter. Maybe it would provide a clue to where she was.

To Love, you may have caused me misery all these years but without you I wouldn't be where I am today. You have made me into the woman I never thought was possible. And to the one who showed me this love, I'm sorry.
R.E. Dergers

The frown deepened as he read the dedication. She was sorry? If she was so sorry why was she still hiding from him? From this great love she can obviously write about? Where the fucking hell did she get off saying she was sorry when she was still Merlin knows where, hidden away from him and the Wizarding World she belonged to. He would find her, of that he was sure and she would have a lot of explaining to do.

Leaning back in the chair, Scorpious Malfoy opened the novel to the first page and began to read.

I was eleven years old when I met the boy who would change my life forever….

(So, this is the story that kept begging me to write it and I'm sorry I haven't updated my other story in a really long time. I actually have more written of it but I felt this one was a little better and I'm having more inspiration to write this one. I hope you guys like it : ) Tell me if and what I need to improve)

-Whatamess