It really was how it was supposed to be. He remembered the night he met her, truly met her; she looked ethereal. It was almost impossible to think that she was the girl he remembered at school. As she walked down the curved staircase, he found himself mesmerized, not with her face, but with her manner. She had grown from the impetuous self-indulged girl he thought her to be and instead, what walked was no substantial beauty but rather a dignified woman.
"May I?" He signaled to the area where couples were drifting to slow music under a canopy of enchanted stars. She looked up at him with patient indulgence.
"Why not?" She was evidently bored.
He brought her flowers, appealed to her romantic nature, showed her the array of material possessions that would be hers if she complied with his wishes. But she always had the upper hand. This he knew, and this she knew he knew. But her laugh and her vivaciousness captured his heart, and he yearned for her acknowledgement of her feelings. But he was impatient; there was work to be done abroad for the Ministry that included secret affairs conducted in the utmost privacy. He did not wish to be alone in such an endeavor. So one night, while she painted and he stared, he turned her around and asked "will you marry me?"
His intent, while tainted with selfishness, was true and noble. He did it out of a heart of love. And when a tear trickled down her face and she whispered "yes" into his shirt sleeve, he knew with absolute certainty that she did not love him back.
A/N: Don't worry, it'll get longer... if you review.