*
Well, he deserved it they all admitted it. They all testified to the fact that he was indeed, a blond jerk. It was a far known fact, after all.
But they took it too far, as they all so often do. The girl, had been betrayed by this boy who promised her "everything," she was young then, no doubt.
A girl of just sixteen. Sweet sixteen. Her hair up in a practical green bow, her eyes dancing amongst the shadows. And her older brother, protecting her like she actually 'needed' the protection.
A boy of seventeen. Rebellious seventeen. His hair was wavy in golden locks, his icy blue eyes looked cynically at the world. And he, he had no one protecting him, and he didn't want anyone.
*
And so they met, on a cold October eve. She had bumped into him and felt terribly sorry.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she said getting on her knees on the dirty floor to pick up her books.
He bent down slightly and picked up her books for her. She smiled.
"Thanks," he nodded and smiled back at her.
"Don't get used to it."
And she never did.
From that smile, amazing things developed. The girl's brother got in the way, a little bit. But she would shoo him away in a complacent way, "Listen. I'm sixteen-" and he would roll his eyes and say.
"Exactly. You're 'sixteen'-"
*
The girl wasn't resentful, but she did sneak off a little more with her newfound companion. He, of course, was used to sneaking off and causing havoc. And she loved him for it.
"It's so exciting, you know, it's like being on the run or something-"
"From the bobby's?" He laughed, and she giggled.
"Just like that."
The crowd at Hogwarts was not very accepting of the new relationship. But the girl in her bliss did not care. And the boy, with his new companion, also did not care. And the lack of caring was what ultimately deteriorated the 'never exactly strong' relationship.
*
But for a while, it was marvelous.
She cried, and her brother's heart would hurt for her, but in most cases she would say: "Don't worry about it, I'm a big girl now, see? I can even make my own peanut butter sandwich."
*
He never cried. Ever. It just wasn't in his nature, but when he came close to it, she knew. So she would pat his back sympathetically, never pressing him for more information, and go down to the kitchens and bring up some of his favourite cookies and cider. Oatmeal.
Then he would eat them, his head resting on her shoulder. "Thanks, you know my Mum used to always make these for me-"
The girl would smile, "I know."
And he would press on, because he felt great faith in her, "I miss her-"
Again, the girl would smile, "I know."
And she did.
There were happy times too though, but the girl remembered those very little. Because after all, she said, "It was nice, you know-but I wanted someone to share my misery with-and he filled that spot."
Dismissively she would press on. And it wouldn't do full justice to the relationship if at least some of the fantastic things were not discussed.
*
"I love you," he whispered softly in her ear.
"I know," she said.
And then, as the fireworks shot up into the black sky a smile danced across her cherry flavored lips and she kissed him. Right on his pale pink, contorted into a smirk, lips.
But her brother came, and he ruined everything, he always did. Forcefully, he pulled the two apart, and the girl would pout.
Shooting the boy an evil look, he'd say, "Back off my sister."
And the girl would laugh, "Don't be stupid."
But he was stupid, and they all knew it. And he knew it too, but that was his little sister. And she needed protecting, from that beast.
And in the end, he was right. Although the girl would never admit it.
*
"It's beautiful," the girl said her eyes looking intently at the ruby ring.
"It is, isn't it?" Was the smug response.
"It really is, it must've been loads of galleons-"
"Don't you worry your little head about it, Princess-"
The girl raised her eyebrow and put on the ring adorned with diamonds.
And the boy smiled, "It's lovely on you."
"It really is."
And so it was. The ring stayed on her finger, except in arguments and then it would fly off her finger and hit the poor boy in the forehead.
"And he deserved it" the girl would tell her friends, "it left a mark right on his pretty boy face."
But he would laugh, and the next day there they would be again. Sharing a coffee latte near the pond, and talking about his Mum as they oh so often did.
"She was pretty," he said taking a sip off the steaming latte.
"Yeah, she was," the girl agreed, "And she loved you."
"Did she, then?" The boy questioned.
The girl nodded, "Of course she did, darling."
And she did.
His smile made her heart go "flip flop" and his wink made all the girls swoon. And she knew that and in a kidding sort of way she told her friends, "That'll be the end of me, you know. All of those girls looking at him, as he winks at them."
*
She listened to what he had to say about the world. Taking it all in, and agreeing with the jest of it. He was experienced, and he was worldly. In his Gringots vault, loads of currency was stashed there. She knew.
Often, she would teach him a lesson or two. Simple things that he grew up never knowing.
"You know," she would state twirling her gingersnap coloured hair in a bored sort of way, "sometimes you just have to be nice to people, even if they are terrible."
He'd raise his blond eyebrows in contempt, and then a small snort let out of his mouth. "You've a smart mind, but your heart is so-"
"Stupid?" She suggested giggling and falling back onto the blanket.
"Hearts can't be stupid, silly," he reminded her.
"Oh yeah right," she dismissed.
"Your heart is so naïve, that you think that it's actually plausible to be able to be nice to everyone."
The girl rolled her eyes, "It is possible."
"Maybe for you," was the terse reply.
The petite girl would pull the blanket around her, "Yeah, for me."
*
They'd sit on his commons couch. And talk. A lot. The girl enjoyed talking-of course-she was a girl. He didn't like it so much.
"You're raving mad you know that? They'll have to take you to Saint Mungo's soon." The boy would say, as the girl would cackle insanely.
"Of course I know that," would be the response, which could hardly be heard over her cackling.
And it was so. For a while.
*
The girl used to have to only worry about her near perfect marks. No, not up to Hermione's standards of course, but certainly very well.
And then she met him.
And then she had a heck of a lot more to worry about.
"I don't like the sound of that."
"I knew you wouldn't."
"Then don't go."
"My Father wants to see me, don't worry about it-"
"He hits you!" Was the indignant reply as cold tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Really, Princess, it isn't any of your business-"
The girl would look back at him in shock, "It is and you bleedin' well know it. I love you, I care about it, I do. I don't like when he hits you-" she coiled up in a little ball on the plush couch.
The boy, always living up to the 'knight in shining armor' stereotype would give her an uncharacteristic warm smile. "I don't like it either, Princess."
She rubbed a hand to his cold, pale, cheek. "Don't go."
But he did.
And when he came back, she had a plate of oatmeal cookies waiting for him.
She always did.
And she always would.
Her brother would snort in disgust and mention to his friend, "My sister going out with HIM-"
And she would hit him in the back of his head and said pointedly, "Get used to it."
And he never did.
And she never cared.
*
She was the only one who could make him apologize. He was a stubborn boy, and he grew up to be a stubborn man. Never wanting to admit that he was 'wrong', the girl respected this of him. For she was stubborn too, just not (that) stubborn.
He would forgive her for anything, if only she asked him to, and she often did.
But her brother was less forgiving, and he would never forgive her for going out with 'him.' And she didn't care.
For in love, the ignorance is deafening and the realness is lacking horribly. But that's what love is, really, being so hopelessly in love that you can't see the holes in the relationship.
He could see them, he was smart, and she knew. For, he never 'loved' fully. It was just too hard for him. And he was not blindsided when the relationship came to a screeching stop.
*
For it was him, who broke up with her.
It had been too long, he had proclaimed, he said he needed to get on with his life; he said he couldn't love her the way that she loved him. And he also said, that he was going off to work in the ministry.
It had been just a year and a half.
"You can't do this to me," she said, half in doubt.
"Listen-"
"No!"
"Then don't," he said giving her an awkward hug as she ran off to talk to her brother.
"I knew it-"
"Don't tell me you knew it."
"I'll beat him up for you, kiddo."
"You don't have to-"
"Yeah, I do."
And so he did.
But she couldn't help thinking he didn't deserve it. Because he did. And even 'she' knew it.
*
And the next day he saw her sitting quietly in Potion's class mumbling to herself.
From behind her he came, and made her squeal in surprise.
"What are 'you' doing here?"
"I came to give you something," he smiled, around his eye was a large black circle. Her brother had punched him well she took note.
And from behind his back, a plate of cookies could be seen.
Oatmeal cookies.
"For you," he said hastily setting them on the desk.
"Thanks." She said, as he walked back over to his desk his black cloak billowing around him.
And she took her arms and made them crisscrossed over her chest. Hugging herself. It would just have to be this way, for a while, she had decided.
And as she looked down at the cookies one small tear dropped onto the largest cookie.
It'd be hard being alone. But she'd make it. She had her oatmeal cookies. And her older brother.
*
Fin.
Well, he deserved it they all admitted it. They all testified to the fact that he was indeed, a blond jerk. It was a far known fact, after all.
But they took it too far, as they all so often do. The girl, had been betrayed by this boy who promised her "everything," she was young then, no doubt.
A girl of just sixteen. Sweet sixteen. Her hair up in a practical green bow, her eyes dancing amongst the shadows. And her older brother, protecting her like she actually 'needed' the protection.
A boy of seventeen. Rebellious seventeen. His hair was wavy in golden locks, his icy blue eyes looked cynically at the world. And he, he had no one protecting him, and he didn't want anyone.
*
And so they met, on a cold October eve. She had bumped into him and felt terribly sorry.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she said getting on her knees on the dirty floor to pick up her books.
He bent down slightly and picked up her books for her. She smiled.
"Thanks," he nodded and smiled back at her.
"Don't get used to it."
And she never did.
From that smile, amazing things developed. The girl's brother got in the way, a little bit. But she would shoo him away in a complacent way, "Listen. I'm sixteen-" and he would roll his eyes and say.
"Exactly. You're 'sixteen'-"
*
The girl wasn't resentful, but she did sneak off a little more with her newfound companion. He, of course, was used to sneaking off and causing havoc. And she loved him for it.
"It's so exciting, you know, it's like being on the run or something-"
"From the bobby's?" He laughed, and she giggled.
"Just like that."
The crowd at Hogwarts was not very accepting of the new relationship. But the girl in her bliss did not care. And the boy, with his new companion, also did not care. And the lack of caring was what ultimately deteriorated the 'never exactly strong' relationship.
*
But for a while, it was marvelous.
She cried, and her brother's heart would hurt for her, but in most cases she would say: "Don't worry about it, I'm a big girl now, see? I can even make my own peanut butter sandwich."
*
He never cried. Ever. It just wasn't in his nature, but when he came close to it, she knew. So she would pat his back sympathetically, never pressing him for more information, and go down to the kitchens and bring up some of his favourite cookies and cider. Oatmeal.
Then he would eat them, his head resting on her shoulder. "Thanks, you know my Mum used to always make these for me-"
The girl would smile, "I know."
And he would press on, because he felt great faith in her, "I miss her-"
Again, the girl would smile, "I know."
And she did.
There were happy times too though, but the girl remembered those very little. Because after all, she said, "It was nice, you know-but I wanted someone to share my misery with-and he filled that spot."
Dismissively she would press on. And it wouldn't do full justice to the relationship if at least some of the fantastic things were not discussed.
*
"I love you," he whispered softly in her ear.
"I know," she said.
And then, as the fireworks shot up into the black sky a smile danced across her cherry flavored lips and she kissed him. Right on his pale pink, contorted into a smirk, lips.
But her brother came, and he ruined everything, he always did. Forcefully, he pulled the two apart, and the girl would pout.
Shooting the boy an evil look, he'd say, "Back off my sister."
And the girl would laugh, "Don't be stupid."
But he was stupid, and they all knew it. And he knew it too, but that was his little sister. And she needed protecting, from that beast.
And in the end, he was right. Although the girl would never admit it.
*
"It's beautiful," the girl said her eyes looking intently at the ruby ring.
"It is, isn't it?" Was the smug response.
"It really is, it must've been loads of galleons-"
"Don't you worry your little head about it, Princess-"
The girl raised her eyebrow and put on the ring adorned with diamonds.
And the boy smiled, "It's lovely on you."
"It really is."
And so it was. The ring stayed on her finger, except in arguments and then it would fly off her finger and hit the poor boy in the forehead.
"And he deserved it" the girl would tell her friends, "it left a mark right on his pretty boy face."
But he would laugh, and the next day there they would be again. Sharing a coffee latte near the pond, and talking about his Mum as they oh so often did.
"She was pretty," he said taking a sip off the steaming latte.
"Yeah, she was," the girl agreed, "And she loved you."
"Did she, then?" The boy questioned.
The girl nodded, "Of course she did, darling."
And she did.
His smile made her heart go "flip flop" and his wink made all the girls swoon. And she knew that and in a kidding sort of way she told her friends, "That'll be the end of me, you know. All of those girls looking at him, as he winks at them."
*
She listened to what he had to say about the world. Taking it all in, and agreeing with the jest of it. He was experienced, and he was worldly. In his Gringots vault, loads of currency was stashed there. She knew.
Often, she would teach him a lesson or two. Simple things that he grew up never knowing.
"You know," she would state twirling her gingersnap coloured hair in a bored sort of way, "sometimes you just have to be nice to people, even if they are terrible."
He'd raise his blond eyebrows in contempt, and then a small snort let out of his mouth. "You've a smart mind, but your heart is so-"
"Stupid?" She suggested giggling and falling back onto the blanket.
"Hearts can't be stupid, silly," he reminded her.
"Oh yeah right," she dismissed.
"Your heart is so naïve, that you think that it's actually plausible to be able to be nice to everyone."
The girl rolled her eyes, "It is possible."
"Maybe for you," was the terse reply.
The petite girl would pull the blanket around her, "Yeah, for me."
*
They'd sit on his commons couch. And talk. A lot. The girl enjoyed talking-of course-she was a girl. He didn't like it so much.
"You're raving mad you know that? They'll have to take you to Saint Mungo's soon." The boy would say, as the girl would cackle insanely.
"Of course I know that," would be the response, which could hardly be heard over her cackling.
And it was so. For a while.
*
The girl used to have to only worry about her near perfect marks. No, not up to Hermione's standards of course, but certainly very well.
And then she met him.
And then she had a heck of a lot more to worry about.
"I don't like the sound of that."
"I knew you wouldn't."
"Then don't go."
"My Father wants to see me, don't worry about it-"
"He hits you!" Was the indignant reply as cold tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Really, Princess, it isn't any of your business-"
The girl would look back at him in shock, "It is and you bleedin' well know it. I love you, I care about it, I do. I don't like when he hits you-" she coiled up in a little ball on the plush couch.
The boy, always living up to the 'knight in shining armor' stereotype would give her an uncharacteristic warm smile. "I don't like it either, Princess."
She rubbed a hand to his cold, pale, cheek. "Don't go."
But he did.
And when he came back, she had a plate of oatmeal cookies waiting for him.
She always did.
And she always would.
Her brother would snort in disgust and mention to his friend, "My sister going out with HIM-"
And she would hit him in the back of his head and said pointedly, "Get used to it."
And he never did.
And she never cared.
*
She was the only one who could make him apologize. He was a stubborn boy, and he grew up to be a stubborn man. Never wanting to admit that he was 'wrong', the girl respected this of him. For she was stubborn too, just not (that) stubborn.
He would forgive her for anything, if only she asked him to, and she often did.
But her brother was less forgiving, and he would never forgive her for going out with 'him.' And she didn't care.
For in love, the ignorance is deafening and the realness is lacking horribly. But that's what love is, really, being so hopelessly in love that you can't see the holes in the relationship.
He could see them, he was smart, and she knew. For, he never 'loved' fully. It was just too hard for him. And he was not blindsided when the relationship came to a screeching stop.
*
For it was him, who broke up with her.
It had been too long, he had proclaimed, he said he needed to get on with his life; he said he couldn't love her the way that she loved him. And he also said, that he was going off to work in the ministry.
It had been just a year and a half.
"You can't do this to me," she said, half in doubt.
"Listen-"
"No!"
"Then don't," he said giving her an awkward hug as she ran off to talk to her brother.
"I knew it-"
"Don't tell me you knew it."
"I'll beat him up for you, kiddo."
"You don't have to-"
"Yeah, I do."
And so he did.
But she couldn't help thinking he didn't deserve it. Because he did. And even 'she' knew it.
*
And the next day he saw her sitting quietly in Potion's class mumbling to herself.
From behind her he came, and made her squeal in surprise.
"What are 'you' doing here?"
"I came to give you something," he smiled, around his eye was a large black circle. Her brother had punched him well she took note.
And from behind his back, a plate of cookies could be seen.
Oatmeal cookies.
"For you," he said hastily setting them on the desk.
"Thanks." She said, as he walked back over to his desk his black cloak billowing around him.
And she took her arms and made them crisscrossed over her chest. Hugging herself. It would just have to be this way, for a while, she had decided.
And as she looked down at the cookies one small tear dropped onto the largest cookie.
It'd be hard being alone. But she'd make it. She had her oatmeal cookies. And her older brother.
*
Fin.