*growls unhappily* I rather loath what ff.net does to my stories, and it's
all because of this damned Mac. Oh well, life goes on . . . and then ends
rather nastily if a radioactive giant radish squashes you. Anyway, sorry
about the first chapter. I forgot to do all this weird stuff I have to do
to make something readable. It rather sucks. Here's the edited version of
the prologue all set up so that you, my beloved readers, can actually read
it. I don't own the characters in this story, or the plot it's self, but
the idea is mostly mine. I'm sure people have done this in the past, but I
haven't read many fanfics yet so I wouldn't know who has and who has not.
I do not wish to be sued, I have no money and no personal belongings. All
I have is some beer and half a cigar. I also run around naked and lick
porcupines - but that's besides the point. ON TO THE STORY!
Two houses, both alike in dignity,
In fair old Hogwarts, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny
Where wizard blood makes wizard hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, naught could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
Fred and George walk through the halls of school on a fine October morning.
"Brother George, on my word, we shall not carry coals," Fred announces.
George laughs, "No, for then we shall be colliers!"
"I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw!" Fred grins and draws his wand, waving it before him madly.
"Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar!" George smiles and gives his brother a playful punch on the shoulder.
Fred jumps forward, wand held out as if it were a sword and pretends to fence as he says, "I strike quickly, being moved."
"But thou are not quickly moved to strike," George says wisely.
"A snake of the house of Slytherin moves me!" Fred bellows at the top of his lungs for the whole hall to hear.
George quiets his brother down and says more words of wisdom. "To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand. Therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away."
"A snake of that house shall move me to stand," Fred retorts, "I will take the wall of any man or maid of Slytherin's."
" That shows thee a weak man; for the weakest goes to the wall," George chides Fred.
Fred shrugs, "'Tis true; and therefore witches, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push Slytherin's men from the wall and thrust its maids to the wall."
"The quarrel is between our houses," George sighs, "and us their men."
"'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant," Fred grins as he goes back to pretending to be a swordsman, "When I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids - I will cut off their heads."
"The heads of the maids?" George asks and raises an eyebrow.
"Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads. Take it in what sense thou wilt." Fred, sticks his wand back in his pocket.
"They must take it in sense that feel it," George agrees.
"Me they shall feel while I am able to stand; and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh," Fred smirks proudly, rubbing his body in a playfully suggestive fashion. He dances around singing, "A pretty piece of flesh I am!" at the tops of his lungs.
Once again George has to quiet his brother, but this time while he too is laughing, "'Tis true thou are not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor- John," he sees Crabbe and Goyle walking towards them in the hall, "Draw thy wand! Here comes two of the house of Slytherin."
"My naked weapon is out. Quarrel! I will back thee," Fred squeaks, jumping behind his brother.
George sighs, also taking out his weapon, and says to Fred angrily, "How? Turn thy back and run?"
"Fear me not," Fred tries to assure George.
"No, marry. I fear the," George answers.
"Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin," Fred tells George.
George nods in agreement and whispers back, "I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list."
"Nay," Fred shakes his head, "as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is a disgrace to them if they bear it." He bites his thumb at Crabbe and Goyle and makes a face.
Goyle spots this and asks gruffly, "Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?"
"I do bite my thumb, Sir," Fred replies.
"Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?' Goyle asks again, this time more demanding.
Fred turns to George and asks under his breath, "Is the law of our side if I say ay?"
"No," George says.
"No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir," Fred stands at attention and speaks to Goyle as if he were answering a drill Sargent in an obvious attempt to anger Goyle.
"Do you quarrel, sir?" George asks.
Goyle looks quizzically at George, "Quarrel, sir? No, sir."
"But if you do, sir, I am for you," Fred makes a bow. "I serve as good a house as you."
"No better," Goyle asks.
"Say 'better.' Here comes one of my master's kinsmen," George whispers to Fred.
Fred smirks and says, "Yes, better, sir."
"You lie," Goyle growls.
"Draw, if you be men," Fred challenges them as he takes his wand out of his pocket, "Brother George remember thy swashing blow."
They start dueling with each other and curses, hexes, and spell fly every which way some of which hit innocent students as they pass by. Blaise Zambini sees this as he's walking to the library and runs over to try to separate the fight. "Part, fools! Put up your wands. You know not what you do!"
Ron is also on his way to the library and sees Blaise trying to break up the fray. "What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?" Ron calls to Blaise, "Turn the, young good sir Blaise! Look upon thy death."
Blaise crawls out of the fight and replies with, "I do but keep the peace. Put up thy wand, or manage it to part these men with me."
"What," Ron snorts, "drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word as I hate hell, all Slytherins, and thee."
McGonagal hears of the fight occurring in the school and goes to investigate. She finds everything in a mess and shouts for the other teachers, "Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!"
"Down with the Gryffindoors!" the students from other houses yell, "Down with the Slytherins!"
Arthur and Molly Weasley, who have been staying at Hogwarts to help the teachers with the latest problems between the Gryffindoor house and the Slytherin house, run in just after hearing about the recently occurring fight.
"What noise is this?" Arthur asks, "give me my long wand, ho!"
"A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a wand?" Molly asks.
Arthur frowns and yells, "My wand, I say! Lucius Malfoy is come and flourishes his wand in spite of me.
Although the Weasleys and the Malfoys were called in to help with the problem, they have instead been adding to it. The only thing keeping them there is that the areas where their houses reside are under attack and this is the safest place for their family and them.
Lucius spots Arthur and bellows, "Thou vile villain Arthur!" Narcissia, seeing the oncoming fight, grabs the sleeve of Lucius's robes. "Hold me not, let me go," Lucius demands, pulling away from his wife.
"Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe," she says firmly as she grabs him by the sleeve a second time.
Dumbledoor walks forward. As he does this, his presence alone breaks up the brawl. "Rebellious students, enemies to peace," he sighs angrily, "profaners of this neighbor-stainéd steel - Will they not hear? What, ho! You men, you beasts, that quench the fire of your pernicious rage with purple fountains issuing from your veins! On pain of torture, from those bloody hands throw your mistemperéd weapons to the ground and hear the sentence of your professor. Three wizard brawls, bred of an airy word by thee, Arthur Weasley, and Lord Malfoy, have thrice disturbed the quiet of our halls and mad Old Hogwarts' ancient citizens cast by their grave beseeming ornaments to wield old partisans, in hands as old, cank'red with peace, to part your cank'red hate. If ever you disturb our halls again, your stay shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time all the rest depart away. You Lord Weasley, shall go along with me; and Lord Malfoy, come you this afternoon to know our farther pleasure in this case, to old Freetown, our common judgment place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart."
The students involved go on their way with heavy heads.
As the students exit, Lucius frowns. "Who sent this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, my boy, were you by when it began?"
"Here were students of your adversary and yours close fighting ere I did approach. I drew to part them. In the instant came the fiery Ronald, with his wand prepared; which, as his breathed defiance to my ears, he swung about his head and cut the winds, who, nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn. While we were interchanging spells and blows, came more and more, and fought on part and part, 'till he came, who parted either part," Blaise explains.
"O, where is my Draco?" Narcissia asks with furrowed brow, "Saw you him today? Right glad I am he was not at this fray."
Blaise sighs and says, "Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun peered forth the golden window of the East, a troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; where, underneath the Forbidden Forest that westward rooteth from this school side, so early walking did I see your son. Towards him I mad, but he was ware of me and stole into the covert of the wood. I, measuring his affections by my own, which then most sought where most might not be found, being one to many by my weary self, pursued my humor, not pursuing his, and gladly shunned who gladly fled from me."
"Many a morning hath he there been seen," Lucius matches Blaise's sigh with his own, shoulders stooping with worry for his son, " with tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; but all so soon as the all-cheering sun should in the farthest East begin to draw the shady curtains from Aurora's bed, away from light steals home my heavy son and private in his dorm-room pens himself, shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, and makes himself an artificial night. Black and portentous must this humor prove unless good counsel may the cause remove."
Hoping to find a reason why his friend is so heavy Blaise asks, "My noble teacher, do you know the cause?"
"I neither know it nor can learn of him," Lucius replies with a sad heart.
"Have you importuned him by any means?"
"Both myself and many other friends; but he, his own affections' counselor, is to himself - I will not say how true- but to himself so secret and so close, so far from sounding and discovery, as is the bud bit with an envious worm ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, we would as willingly give cure as know." The three of them were outside of the school now. Very near where Blaise had seen Draco earlier that day. After a few minutes of silent walking, Draco appears, his head hung in sorrow.
"See, where he comes," Blaise tells them speeding up to get to his friend, "so please you step aside, I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
Nodding, Lucius steps to the side, letting the boy pass, "I would thou wert so happy y thy stay to hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away."
"Good morrow, Draco," Blaise says cheerily, running up from behind his friend."
"Is the day so young?" Draco croaks, his voice rough from tears.
"But new struck nine," replies Blaise.
"Ay me!" Draco moans, "sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast?"
"Is was," Blaise nods, "what sadness lengthens Draco's hours?"
"Not having that which having makes them short."
"In love?" "Out-"
"Of love?"
"Out of here favor where I am in love."
Blaise snorts as he looks up at the trees, "Alas that love, so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"
"Alas that love, whose view is muffled still, should without eyes see pathways to his will!" Draco finishes off his friend's sentence. They walk around the school for a bit until the lunch bell rings, luring them to the inviting food the school holds within its belly. "Well, shall we dine?" Draco asks as they step into the school. Suddenly, he sees the remnants of the fight before. Angry, he turns to Blaise and yells, "O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate, O anything, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, still-walking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this," he looked up, searching for a sign of emotion on Blaise's face, "dost thou not laugh?"
Blaise shakes his head, "No, Draco, I rather weep."
"Good heart," Draco raises an eyebrow, "at what?"
"At they good heart's oppression," Blaise explains.
""Why, such is love's transgression," Draco frowns, "griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest with more of thine. This love that thou hast shown doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet," wanting to go off to think on his own once again Draco says, "farewell, Blaise," and turns to leave.
Realizing that his friend is trying to escape while he still hadn't fully explained his predicament, Blaise turned with him saying, "Soft! I will go along. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
"Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here; this is not Draco, he's some other where.
"Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?"
"What, shall I groan and tell thee?"
"Groan? Why, no; but sadly tell me who.
"Bid a sick man in sadness make his will. Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, Blaise, I do love a woman."
"I aimed so near when I supposed you loved."
"A right good markman. And she's fair I love."
"A right fair mark, fair man, is soonest hit."
"Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit with Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit, and, in strong proof of chastity well armed, from love's weak childish bow she lives unharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes, nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. O, she is rich in beauty; only poor that, when she dies, with beauty dies her store."
"Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?"
"She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; for beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, to merit bliss by making me despair. She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow do I live dead that live to tell it now."
"Be ruled by me; forget to think of her."
Looking off into the distance forlornly Draco sighs, "O, teach me how I should forget to think!"
"By giving liberty unto thine eyes," Blaise smirks, pointing to a passing girl with a rather large chest, "examine other beauties."
"'Tis the way to call hers exquisite in question more," Draco says with a shrug, "These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, being black puts us in mind they hide the fair, He that is strucken blind cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost. Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who passed that passing fair? Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget." Draco speeds up a second time, but this time Blaise does not follow him or try to stop him.
Shaking his head Blaise says, "I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt."
Two houses, both alike in dignity,
In fair old Hogwarts, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny
Where wizard blood makes wizard hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, naught could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
Fred and George walk through the halls of school on a fine October morning.
"Brother George, on my word, we shall not carry coals," Fred announces.
George laughs, "No, for then we shall be colliers!"
"I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw!" Fred grins and draws his wand, waving it before him madly.
"Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar!" George smiles and gives his brother a playful punch on the shoulder.
Fred jumps forward, wand held out as if it were a sword and pretends to fence as he says, "I strike quickly, being moved."
"But thou are not quickly moved to strike," George says wisely.
"A snake of the house of Slytherin moves me!" Fred bellows at the top of his lungs for the whole hall to hear.
George quiets his brother down and says more words of wisdom. "To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand. Therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away."
"A snake of that house shall move me to stand," Fred retorts, "I will take the wall of any man or maid of Slytherin's."
" That shows thee a weak man; for the weakest goes to the wall," George chides Fred.
Fred shrugs, "'Tis true; and therefore witches, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push Slytherin's men from the wall and thrust its maids to the wall."
"The quarrel is between our houses," George sighs, "and us their men."
"'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant," Fred grins as he goes back to pretending to be a swordsman, "When I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids - I will cut off their heads."
"The heads of the maids?" George asks and raises an eyebrow.
"Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads. Take it in what sense thou wilt." Fred, sticks his wand back in his pocket.
"They must take it in sense that feel it," George agrees.
"Me they shall feel while I am able to stand; and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh," Fred smirks proudly, rubbing his body in a playfully suggestive fashion. He dances around singing, "A pretty piece of flesh I am!" at the tops of his lungs.
Once again George has to quiet his brother, but this time while he too is laughing, "'Tis true thou are not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor- John," he sees Crabbe and Goyle walking towards them in the hall, "Draw thy wand! Here comes two of the house of Slytherin."
"My naked weapon is out. Quarrel! I will back thee," Fred squeaks, jumping behind his brother.
George sighs, also taking out his weapon, and says to Fred angrily, "How? Turn thy back and run?"
"Fear me not," Fred tries to assure George.
"No, marry. I fear the," George answers.
"Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin," Fred tells George.
George nods in agreement and whispers back, "I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list."
"Nay," Fred shakes his head, "as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is a disgrace to them if they bear it." He bites his thumb at Crabbe and Goyle and makes a face.
Goyle spots this and asks gruffly, "Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?"
"I do bite my thumb, Sir," Fred replies.
"Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?' Goyle asks again, this time more demanding.
Fred turns to George and asks under his breath, "Is the law of our side if I say ay?"
"No," George says.
"No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir," Fred stands at attention and speaks to Goyle as if he were answering a drill Sargent in an obvious attempt to anger Goyle.
"Do you quarrel, sir?" George asks.
Goyle looks quizzically at George, "Quarrel, sir? No, sir."
"But if you do, sir, I am for you," Fred makes a bow. "I serve as good a house as you."
"No better," Goyle asks.
"Say 'better.' Here comes one of my master's kinsmen," George whispers to Fred.
Fred smirks and says, "Yes, better, sir."
"You lie," Goyle growls.
"Draw, if you be men," Fred challenges them as he takes his wand out of his pocket, "Brother George remember thy swashing blow."
They start dueling with each other and curses, hexes, and spell fly every which way some of which hit innocent students as they pass by. Blaise Zambini sees this as he's walking to the library and runs over to try to separate the fight. "Part, fools! Put up your wands. You know not what you do!"
Ron is also on his way to the library and sees Blaise trying to break up the fray. "What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?" Ron calls to Blaise, "Turn the, young good sir Blaise! Look upon thy death."
Blaise crawls out of the fight and replies with, "I do but keep the peace. Put up thy wand, or manage it to part these men with me."
"What," Ron snorts, "drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word as I hate hell, all Slytherins, and thee."
McGonagal hears of the fight occurring in the school and goes to investigate. She finds everything in a mess and shouts for the other teachers, "Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!"
"Down with the Gryffindoors!" the students from other houses yell, "Down with the Slytherins!"
Arthur and Molly Weasley, who have been staying at Hogwarts to help the teachers with the latest problems between the Gryffindoor house and the Slytherin house, run in just after hearing about the recently occurring fight.
"What noise is this?" Arthur asks, "give me my long wand, ho!"
"A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a wand?" Molly asks.
Arthur frowns and yells, "My wand, I say! Lucius Malfoy is come and flourishes his wand in spite of me.
Although the Weasleys and the Malfoys were called in to help with the problem, they have instead been adding to it. The only thing keeping them there is that the areas where their houses reside are under attack and this is the safest place for their family and them.
Lucius spots Arthur and bellows, "Thou vile villain Arthur!" Narcissia, seeing the oncoming fight, grabs the sleeve of Lucius's robes. "Hold me not, let me go," Lucius demands, pulling away from his wife.
"Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe," she says firmly as she grabs him by the sleeve a second time.
Dumbledoor walks forward. As he does this, his presence alone breaks up the brawl. "Rebellious students, enemies to peace," he sighs angrily, "profaners of this neighbor-stainéd steel - Will they not hear? What, ho! You men, you beasts, that quench the fire of your pernicious rage with purple fountains issuing from your veins! On pain of torture, from those bloody hands throw your mistemperéd weapons to the ground and hear the sentence of your professor. Three wizard brawls, bred of an airy word by thee, Arthur Weasley, and Lord Malfoy, have thrice disturbed the quiet of our halls and mad Old Hogwarts' ancient citizens cast by their grave beseeming ornaments to wield old partisans, in hands as old, cank'red with peace, to part your cank'red hate. If ever you disturb our halls again, your stay shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time all the rest depart away. You Lord Weasley, shall go along with me; and Lord Malfoy, come you this afternoon to know our farther pleasure in this case, to old Freetown, our common judgment place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart."
The students involved go on their way with heavy heads.
As the students exit, Lucius frowns. "Who sent this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, my boy, were you by when it began?"
"Here were students of your adversary and yours close fighting ere I did approach. I drew to part them. In the instant came the fiery Ronald, with his wand prepared; which, as his breathed defiance to my ears, he swung about his head and cut the winds, who, nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn. While we were interchanging spells and blows, came more and more, and fought on part and part, 'till he came, who parted either part," Blaise explains.
"O, where is my Draco?" Narcissia asks with furrowed brow, "Saw you him today? Right glad I am he was not at this fray."
Blaise sighs and says, "Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun peered forth the golden window of the East, a troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; where, underneath the Forbidden Forest that westward rooteth from this school side, so early walking did I see your son. Towards him I mad, but he was ware of me and stole into the covert of the wood. I, measuring his affections by my own, which then most sought where most might not be found, being one to many by my weary self, pursued my humor, not pursuing his, and gladly shunned who gladly fled from me."
"Many a morning hath he there been seen," Lucius matches Blaise's sigh with his own, shoulders stooping with worry for his son, " with tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; but all so soon as the all-cheering sun should in the farthest East begin to draw the shady curtains from Aurora's bed, away from light steals home my heavy son and private in his dorm-room pens himself, shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, and makes himself an artificial night. Black and portentous must this humor prove unless good counsel may the cause remove."
Hoping to find a reason why his friend is so heavy Blaise asks, "My noble teacher, do you know the cause?"
"I neither know it nor can learn of him," Lucius replies with a sad heart.
"Have you importuned him by any means?"
"Both myself and many other friends; but he, his own affections' counselor, is to himself - I will not say how true- but to himself so secret and so close, so far from sounding and discovery, as is the bud bit with an envious worm ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, we would as willingly give cure as know." The three of them were outside of the school now. Very near where Blaise had seen Draco earlier that day. After a few minutes of silent walking, Draco appears, his head hung in sorrow.
"See, where he comes," Blaise tells them speeding up to get to his friend, "so please you step aside, I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
Nodding, Lucius steps to the side, letting the boy pass, "I would thou wert so happy y thy stay to hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away."
"Good morrow, Draco," Blaise says cheerily, running up from behind his friend."
"Is the day so young?" Draco croaks, his voice rough from tears.
"But new struck nine," replies Blaise.
"Ay me!" Draco moans, "sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast?"
"Is was," Blaise nods, "what sadness lengthens Draco's hours?"
"Not having that which having makes them short."
"In love?" "Out-"
"Of love?"
"Out of here favor where I am in love."
Blaise snorts as he looks up at the trees, "Alas that love, so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"
"Alas that love, whose view is muffled still, should without eyes see pathways to his will!" Draco finishes off his friend's sentence. They walk around the school for a bit until the lunch bell rings, luring them to the inviting food the school holds within its belly. "Well, shall we dine?" Draco asks as they step into the school. Suddenly, he sees the remnants of the fight before. Angry, he turns to Blaise and yells, "O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate, O anything, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, still-walking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this," he looked up, searching for a sign of emotion on Blaise's face, "dost thou not laugh?"
Blaise shakes his head, "No, Draco, I rather weep."
"Good heart," Draco raises an eyebrow, "at what?"
"At they good heart's oppression," Blaise explains.
""Why, such is love's transgression," Draco frowns, "griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest with more of thine. This love that thou hast shown doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet," wanting to go off to think on his own once again Draco says, "farewell, Blaise," and turns to leave.
Realizing that his friend is trying to escape while he still hadn't fully explained his predicament, Blaise turned with him saying, "Soft! I will go along. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
"Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here; this is not Draco, he's some other where.
"Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?"
"What, shall I groan and tell thee?"
"Groan? Why, no; but sadly tell me who.
"Bid a sick man in sadness make his will. Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, Blaise, I do love a woman."
"I aimed so near when I supposed you loved."
"A right good markman. And she's fair I love."
"A right fair mark, fair man, is soonest hit."
"Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit with Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit, and, in strong proof of chastity well armed, from love's weak childish bow she lives unharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes, nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. O, she is rich in beauty; only poor that, when she dies, with beauty dies her store."
"Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?"
"She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; for beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, to merit bliss by making me despair. She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow do I live dead that live to tell it now."
"Be ruled by me; forget to think of her."
Looking off into the distance forlornly Draco sighs, "O, teach me how I should forget to think!"
"By giving liberty unto thine eyes," Blaise smirks, pointing to a passing girl with a rather large chest, "examine other beauties."
"'Tis the way to call hers exquisite in question more," Draco says with a shrug, "These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, being black puts us in mind they hide the fair, He that is strucken blind cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost. Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who passed that passing fair? Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget." Draco speeds up a second time, but this time Blaise does not follow him or try to stop him.
Shaking his head Blaise says, "I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt."