She had always been obsessed with him…
No matter what he did, the fascination with him stayed. She didn't want to want him, but she did anyway. She knew she shouldn't, but she needed him. He was gorgeous. His hair, his eyes…she wanted him like she had never wanted anything else. It tore at her heart, desire rising inside her whenever she looked at him. It was hopeless, even she could see that.
So she ignored it, put it aside, and set her attention on other people, leading them on like they had a chance. It was pitiful, really. He would never return her feeling. She felt so helpless, staring at him any chance she got. She made sure no one could see it; they'd never let her live it down if they saw, if they caught on. But, no, they thought she was lusting after Harry. The thought was insane, even if it made perfect since—Harry wasn't bad-looking, he was a powerful wizard, he was friends with Ron and 'Mione, her parents liked him.
But…he just wasn't right. He wasn't perfect for her.
Not like her Obsession…No, that one was beautiful, even if he did treat her poorly…Even if he may not deserve her, or even want her. She was his and no one else's.
It didn't take long for her to realize she loved him. It took even less time to realize they would never have a chance—not with the Dark Lord and his father.
And the War.
That would be the end of it, she knew.
They were on opposing sides, they had different beliefs.
Still, she kept hope that he would see the error of his ways. She kept hoping he would come to Dumbledore, asking for help. But he didn't.
Before the Final Battle…that was the last time she saw him alive. It was at the end of her sixth year, his seventh. The last time he gazed at her was with contempt and condescendence, right before he slammed the compartment door in her face. That had hurt, but she brushed it off. She was used to it.
And she still kept hoping that some time during the summer they would receive word that he had come to Dumbledore, but of course, they didn't.
Out on the battlefield, she was the last thing he saw.
He was the last thing she saw.
She had looked for him, knew she would recognize him even behind the mask he would be wearing. Sure enough, she picked out his form among the other bodies and flashes of light. Spells were flying everywhere. It was only common sense that he would get hit.
She saw it when it happened. She saw him go down. The light was green, and she feared the worst. She scrambled to his side, putting a hand on the side of his face. He had looked up at her, coughing up blood. It had amazed her that even in his dying moments he could perfect a code stare and biting words.
"Weasley."
It hadn't been a question; it had been a statement. He had closed his eyes after that, and she had cried, kissing him for the first time, for the last time.
Then the light was green again, and she was dead, sprawled over Her Obsession.
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Author's Note:
I have no clue when I started this, but I was going through my files today and this popped up, half-finished. So, mnaturally, I finished it.
And if you can't figure out who the Obsessor is, then...think harder. -.o
-Darcy