Roses and Compassion.
Chapter One-Meeting
The Great War ended a few years ago, but the young woman on the park bench could not forget the nightmares of that dark time.
She stood from the park bench, passing the angel statues that guarded the entrance and brought the bluebonnets in her hand to the graves. She had been visiting many graveyards today, bluebonnets and black roses coming from nowhere. She has memorized the dedications on the stones by heart. She walked toward the main graveyard, the one that held the spirits of those who had perished in the Great War. A tear cascaded down the woman's cheek as she laid a bluebonnet and a black rose on the tossed dirt of Fredrick Weasley's tome.
She went around, from Collin Creavy, his brother, his mother, Sarah Holman, who was in her History of Magic class, and Moody's. She shed a tear for each, but only one. The rest stayed on her eyelid and lashes, refusing to fall.
As she made her rounds, she was unaware that gray eyes were trained on her, from the dark side of the park. He felt pity for her; she always let herself get too attached to anyone willing to give her a hand at anything. He saw it in the hallways. He saw her eyes light up, her politeness as she talked to a friend. She always treated them well, as if that were the last minute that she would be able to talk to them. It had gotten worse over the years, her paranoia of a death.
He would always hide in the corner, observing the part of her that no one else knew existed, not even her. He would see her falling apart at the seams. Her guilt and shame, her sadness, her precaution, her love, and her hope all showed brightly in her eyes like colors of a rainbow.
He wondered why no one else could see her, the reason she acted the way she did. The reason behind her studies, her kindness, her gentleness and her strength. She wanted others to be happy. It was never for her happiness, only others'. She didn't read because she felt like it, but because she wanted to be useful, for others to have the difference of safety and danger. Her kindness because not the reason that she wanted to be treated the same way, but because she wanted to give others' hope. Her gentleness, so others would not be afraid of her. Her strength so others could fallow in her footsteps and not fall apart.
He got up from his crouch and headed towards Hermione Jane Granger.
She sat on the bench quietly. Cross-legged, and staring at the stars, she sighed. She felt so tired and worn-down. Suddenly, a man sitting next to her caught her attention and interrupted her thoughts. She looked around. There were benches left and right, all unoccupied. It puzzled her to think that this man would be interested in sitting next to a woman who was too thin, too pale, and too ragged to be pretty. The answer was in front of her when she turned to find it to be Draco Malfoy. "Why sit here? I'm mudblood and not worth your time, or do you find me interesting all of the sudden?" She asked. He turned to her and she gasped. He was beautiful, of course, with the moon behind him, making his skin glow. She found that his eyes were not really gray. His eyes were a light blue; circling the pupil was a light pale green. Outlining the iris, there was a ring; it was deep blue and brown. Mixed in with the pale light blue part were specks of silver and white. He had extraordinary eyes. His face was oval and with a pointed, strong chin. He had full lips that were as pale as his skin, a pasty white. But what really made her gasp was the long, deep, thin scar that started at his hairline, stretched to the point of his left eye, and too his Adam's apple. It ran across his apple, cutting deep. She knew that he must have had to be healed immediately to be able to live. He looked sad at the reaction of her looking at him, and she immediately felt ashamed, no matter whom it was.
"Actually, I've found you interesting for quite a while. If you could do anything, for yourself, and not for others, what would it be?" He asked, a knowing look in his eye. She looked away, scared. She didn't really want to do anything that didn't benefit someone else. She looked back at him and smiled, remembering something.
"I would buy myself treats and eat most of them." She said. He frowned, confused and agitated.
"And what would you do with the rest of them?"
"I would mail them to my mother."
"That's for someone else."
"Yes, but I ate most of it."
"That just makes you selfish, it's still giving."
"Well, then I don't know… I could, no, no… Maybe… no. I don't know, I can't think of anything!" She sighed. "What would you do? Huh? Why am I the victim?"
"Because I'm selfish, as it should be, and you're selfless." They fell silent. After a while, Hermione broke the silence.
"Looks like we complete each other." She murmured. He looked at her. He stared until she looked up. They locked eyes.
He leaned in, as did she. They met in the middle, kissing each other in a sweet, soft, loving embrace.
