Theo's "The Right Moment"

"Thou art as wise as thou art is beautiful." Theo had whispered.

A/N: This was written for the lovely challenge called "Shakespeare As Your Summary Challenge." Don't forget to RR!

xxx

"It was nice catching up with you too, sir." He said, standing up to shake the outstretched arm of the new Minister of Magic.

His eyes didn't miss the small, almost invisible grimace on the older man's face, but he decided punching him wasn't worth the jail time in Azkaban with a broken hand.

And so he bid another farewell and excused himself from the table. Loosening the knot on his tie, he sighed.

The party was at full swing by now, the room filled with mindless chatter and a deep guffaw every now and then.

It had been four years since the defeat of Voldemort, and people still looked at him- or other ex-death eaters for that matter- as vile scum that doesn't deserve freedom.

Theo had been deemed innocent despite his shortcomings, with the prospect of his father being a lunatic the trial had gone better than he had hoped,

and now here he was.

Grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing floating tray and swallowed the drink in a single gulp.

He hated gatherings like these, and why he was here was also beyond him.

In a party hosted by the Malfoys to announce Draco's engagement with the Granger girl. Theo snorted at the thought, still not able to wrap his head around it.

It was quite the shocker, both to the families and the whole of the wizarding community, especially with the rumors of her being pregnant with the Weasel King's child.

She may be pregnant, but now they all knew it wasn't another Weasley.

Of all eligible witches it had to be the very person the young Malfoy had spent half of his life tormenting.

'The sex must be brilliant.' Theo smirked to himself.

'Or maybe the guy just valued intellect, Theo. You hormonal, simple piece of shit.' His inner voice had reasoned.

Looking over to the beaming couple upfront who were accommodating a giddy Rita Skeeter, Theo shook his head grabbed another passing drink and took a sip, his eyes jumping from one familiar face to another.

His soft gaze abruptly stopped, as his attention was caught by a wonderful pair of eyes that had the most wonderful glow of the palest blue.

Countless times he had seen those eyes, and countless times he had told himself he should get to know the stories behind them.

And countless times he had told himself it wasn't the right time.

Down the quiet halls of Hogwarts where he always seemed to bump into her, she would look at him with a passive expression and apologize with a hastiness in her lithe, almost dreamy voice.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for nargles. Your head seems to be full of them though."

Then she would turn and skip off in a fashion that Theo swore meant something along the lines of 'follow me'

and he'd slap his dazed face and shake his head vigorously. Whispering harshly to himself.

"It's not the right moment."

Or the rare times he'd come by the library and actually read, he'd notice her bare ankles protruding from under the light swishing of her robes as she tried to reach for a book on the top shelf that read 'Muggle Literature'

He'd have the fiercest internal battles that would put the mental people in St.Mungo's to shame, and eventually when one has finished murdering the other he would take a step to help her and notice that she was, in fact, already gone.

Theo would then kick himself in the back and comfort his bruised ego with "It wasn't the right moment."

Just like he had when he lost his chance to ask her out on the Yule Ball. Or when he saw her walking around the Black Lake, barefoot. in the snow.

He perfectly knew where her shoes were, under a certain Slytherin's bed and he'd curse himself.

When he'd had enough bullshit from his so called "friends" making fun of Looney Lovegood, and for once stood up for her. He was scoffed at and was called a sympathizer.

He didn't give a shit, because once her unshed tears fell, not because of sadness, but of pure joy. It had all been worth it.

She smiled up at him and rubbed her reddened feet.

"Are you okay?" He had asked.

"Splendid." she had replied. "Frankly, I don't feel my ankles so that's either a good or a bad sign." she giggled.

it was the most adorable sound he had admitted to liking and he swore he would hear it again.

But instead he had made that lighthearted laughter disappear, as he stared at her longingly from the other side of the rubble as the once timid Luna he had come to know, was now screaming one spell after another.

Her once spirited eyes that glittered in the moonlight when they were up the astronomy tower after midnight; was now rigid and hard with resolve and hate, very harsh hate.

Piercing through Voldemort, piercing through the Death Eaters, piercing through him.

and he told himself again for the nine hundredth and sixty fifth time since he had last seen her,

"This is not the right time." And he began to doubt if there ever would be one.

He could go on and on and on that he'd get drowned by wave after marvelous wave of regret. But nothing would change now.

Or so he thought.

xxx

A/N: Second part to come in a few hours, keep a look out :)

RandR!