A/N: 11/50 of the 50Shuffle Challenge, well I'm really moving along now aren't I? :P
Look at you; you're nothing special. There is nothing spectacular about the colour of your untamed hair, nor the way it frames your face when you tie it loosely so that it cascades elegantly down your back. There is nothing extraordinary about the depth of your eyes and the shape is just the same as every other witch in the Great Hall.
So why is it that when you laugh at some idiotic joke Weasel has made, I can't help but look at you, watching how they illuminate and come alive as the sounds dance from your mouth...
I hate the sound of laughter. I loathe the idea that someone is happy, that someone has the courage to laugh in a world where pain and suffering are offered up to us on a rose tinted plate.
Rose tinted... not quite the vibrant red of a pureblood but just the fitting shade for someone with dirtied blood; someone like you.
You're nothing more than a filthy Mudblood.
How could I ever love someone with such a stigmatized lineage? I would never, could never, disgrace my family like that, even if the girl who was lucky enough to receive my love happened to be one of the richest or most beautiful Muggleborns around - nothing like you.
No, you couldn't be described as beautiful. You are the furthest thing from it. You don't have luscious hair like Astoria; your eyes are not as enthralling as Pansy's and you weren't blessed with the pale impeccable skin we Malfoy's adore, covet.
You are so disgracefully ordinary looking.
And your family have no riches in this world. They are not needed here; we have spells to fix teeth and ease pain so what good are they? They have no standing in the social ladder of the Wizarding World and my parents would hate them.
I would hate them. Just like I hate you.
You will never be special or pure in my eyes. Never. There is no hope for us and I am wasting my time thinking otherwise, so would you please get the hell out of my heart!
A/N: He loves her really ^^
