There is no such thing as "true love". In the darkest crevices of our hearts, we all know this.

There is only fleeting love, which flutters by like the little minx she is;

Deluded love, which lures us in with her siren songs, the melodies promising the fulfilment we all crave;

Gratuitous love, bred from the desire to feel something; and

Monotonous love wherein now is a hallucination and the past reigns.

So why is it that we persistently delude ourselves into believing that what we feel is true love?


"Monogamy is overrated, Granger," Draco had drawled into Hermione's ear the first night, igniting passion in her loins.

She had become as malleable as dough under his touches; no, they were not caresses, as Harry's were; but each stroke held the secrets of a world of dark pleasure and the master sculptor was willing to divulge, who was Hermione to refuse?

Animalistic, there is no other word that encompasses their lecherous liaisons so perfectly. Two animals would meet under the invisibility cloak that was darkness; drawn to one another by animalistic instincts. Pure animalistic physicality. Or at least that's how Hermione rationalised her malevolent infidelity. It was much easier to blame her hormones and Draco's sexual prowess than to admit that, maybe, the profound love she had once felt for Harry was, fleeting.

The two animals heat up the lonely halls of Hogwarts at night. They realise that sooner or later their treachery will be exposed. He doesn't care because he has nothing to lose; he'll more likely be praised for deflowering the Gryffindor golden girl. She doesn't care because it seems too obscure, too far-off to actually be able to affect her- like a ghost's dagger, there, but seemingly harmless. Until the night the wispy outlines solidify into reality.

OOO

A sordid declaration of love escapes Hermione's mouth, "I love you Draco," and falls upon Harry Potter's ears as he makes his way to visit Hagrid. Harry rolls his eyes in incredulity wondering which of Malfoy's latest wenches is professing her love as she comes.

He debates his options and chooses to let out some of his pent-up sexual frustration out on Malfoy; pent-up due to the chastity of his girlfriend, but he doesn't mind because he and Hermione share something deeper than mere animalistic physicality.

Harry strides towards the pants of the spent twosome and sees the back of Draco Malfoy's naked figure. Harry forces out a derisive laugh, "Merlin Malfoy, are the beds not big enough for your exploits anymore?"

Draco laughs sardonically, "why don't we ask Granger?"

Harry stands, as though petrified. His breath knocked out of him by Draco's taunting, silken tones and Hermione's disarrayed face. Disbelief, doubt, comprehension, hurt, anger- what are they but mere emotions breaking a single soul out of a billion? The tears don't mean much as they should have to Hermione, only guilt; she had known what she was doing all along. They mean even less to Draco.

Like a scene from a trite soap opera, Harry yells spiteful phrases spitting out words like, "betrayal", "dignity" and "love", as his glasses fog up from the warmth of tears. Hermione is moved to gush pitiful, hollow apologies as Draco's ejaculation seeps out from her folds.

With a final acerbic declaration, "I hope you two are happy together," Harry runs like a child back to his room. He takes his anger out on his few possessions- burning his books; snapping his Firebolt with a single, solid crunch of his foot. Finally, when he runs out of possessions, and anger, he falls to the floor and is enveloped in exhaustion and emotions.

That night Harry Potter makes his way to Ginny Weasley's room; overcoming the trick-staircase with a simple levitation spell, which he learnt in the first year, but was too virtuous to ever make use of.

That night Harry Potter loses his virginity without the usual hindrances of anxiety and nerves that usually plague those drowning in the lascivious waters of sexual pleasure for the first time. Although he slightly understands Hermione's motives; he does not forgive her.

And in one night Harry Potter learns truths it takes others a lifetime to- monogamy is overrated; animalistic physicality is overpoweringly beautiful; love is fleeting.