This story is not affiliated with or endorsed by J. K. Rowling or any of her publishers or licensees. It does not imply or claim any rights to her characters or creations.
Harry Potter is a registered trademark of Warner Bros.
He sat in his deep seated armchair, sipping his tea as he read his newspaper. The armchair reflected the man; proud, aristocratic and extravagant. His plain black robes were a far cry from his usual elegant wardrobe, however, reflecting his casual countenance. The common straight-backed posture the pureblood usually accommodated with his austere reserve was forgone in place of his seemingly relaxed and casual exterior. The paper was never incredibly interesting and worth his time, although it did wonders for the thoughtful and classic outward appearance he was displaying. He was not known to indulge in such a sit-down, reading the paper as he did, however this time he had good reason to.
The front page and first full section of the paper was dedicated to her and her fiancé. The feature was solely about them and there, smiling proudly and gaily from the front cover, waving at him almost mockingly, was the girl he had known with the bushy hair, and the weasel he had known as well. Her smile was breathtaking and so happy he almost allowed himself to quirk his lips. However, upon noticing the man standing next to her with his arms so lovingly draped around her figure, his brow knotted and his mouth quirked downward instead of the upward it had desired.
She should have been his, could have, if he hadn't been such a git. She was everything a witch should be and oh, if she had only been of pure blood would the world have been reckoned by the power and prestige. She had done fantastically for herself, of course, but at least if she had been of an old family, she could have been his. His grey eyes softened almost imperceptibly as he continued to gaze at her smiling face, a face that had so many times only held disgust, anger and loathing for him. Platinum blonde lashes fell to rest against crystal-white cheek as he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to replay for him each and every dream he had ever had of her being his; an impossibility but a dream nonetheless.
Thanks for reading and if you're interested, this will probably change to a series of one shots based around the saying "hearts are often broken by words left unspoken". The pairings will be both canon and non-canon, unrequited love and both wanting it but denying themselves. If you have any suggestions for pairings or a scenario in mind, feel free to tell me and we'll see how we go. I'm really going to try and keep it drabble-length, too.
Until then,
Hermitt