A/N: Just a quick thing I felt like writing. It turned out much more sad than I intended it to, but well, I kind of liked, I don't know about you guys though. I was sitting in the couch, resting and trying to get rid of my flu when I got the line 'They still fight, just not about the same things' and this story just popped into my head. I was a bit worried though, 'cause usually when I get an idea like this, they don't turn out very well when I try to write them down. Anyway, just please tell me what you think ina review, 'cause they really make my day! Well, on with the story.
Fighting
Isabel
They are still fighting, it just isn't about the same things nowadays, and usually it isn't quite as serious as it used to be before.
They still get into fistfights, throwing punches at each other, clawing at hands and pulling at strands of hair. But while before it was about someone spitting out an insult and about the other one wanting payback, now it's about someone doing, or not doing, something they should or shouldn't have done.
They're still rolling around on the floor, trying to get the dominance, trying to win. They're still very even and you never know who's going to win before someone has. But when they were younger, the fights were about showing everyone that you were the stronger one, getting higher status and humiliate the other one. Now it's all about who's going to surrender and lay flat and who's going to be on top for the night.
They still get into rows too. They scream at each other, throwing things, insults and tantrums. But before it was just a way to release some anger and being able to scream and rage without someone asking you why. Now it's more serious. Now they hurt each other when they row. Not physically, but emotionally, scarring each others' souls and wounding each others' hearts. The insults burn now and leave marks, marks that never quite go away, no matter how hard they try.
Because love changed things and now nothing can be like it once was, for good and bad. The fights are just a game, teasing and playing and what really hurt now are the insults, the mean words that hit right where they're intended too. Because they know each other so well, the weaknesses and shames and deepest fears.
Now there can be no more screaming just for the sake of it, because that's why Draco Malfoy is now standing, helpless and alone, when Harry Potter packs his things and leave, not uttering a word but with tears staining his cheeks.