A/N: This is my first attempt ever at writing fanfiction, let alone femslash (what a way to start huh?). Just know that Fleur goes to Hogwarts and disregard any discontinuities with technological advances. Some questions will be answered in the story (how they met, etc.). This is a one-shot, but it may be a two-parter. Who knows? I got the idea of this story after finding a found poem (haha, finding a found…) from I made from English class last year. You'll see how I incorporated the concept of that into this. Well, have fun. Review if you want, feedback is always good and appreciated. If you don't, it's okay… I'm like that.
Also, I didn't get this "beta-ed" like I should've, so there may be some mistakes. I just wanted to get this out already.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter– it all belongs to J.K. Rowling. It'd be cool if I did, but I DON'T. =P
It Was All Random, or So I Thought
Prologue: It's Beginning to Get Me
(Fleur's POV)
I've done nothing wrong to deserve this… to feel this way. It's eating me inside out. All I want do is huddle, lie in bed under the covers, or sleep it all away. I don't want to eat even though I'm starving (for you perhaps). The hunger pangs drown out what I'm feeling, but they also seem to intensify them.
And here I am… listening to a playlist of songs that only remind me of ardor towards you. I'm supposed to be getting ready, getting the adrenaline pumping for the next task, but you alone do that to me with just the mere sight of you. I want these feelings for you to go away than for them to be unrequited. Exposing them there out in the open and making me vulnerable is something I would go through if I had some degree of certainty that this pain would go away with just the feel of you in my grasp. Does that even make any sense? Wanting these emotions go away rather than to have them out in the open with the slight chance that they'll be reciprocated? Probability sucks because it never tells you for what it's worth.
Am I that scared? I think I am, seeing that I've kept up a really good façade. Perhaps it is my heritage that helped me with that. What have I done to deserve this as though it were some kind of punishment? I don't want it to be seen that way, but it sure as hell feels that way. I came to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. The allures of glory and fame keep me going through the daunting tasks of this competition. I was all happy and fine, minding my own business, until you came along. Don't get me wrong – you, even the thought of you, make me happy. It's the restless nights, the never-ending daydreaming, and constant, incessant thoughts of you, that drive me crazy. No longer did I think of what dangers the next task would entail. Every time I saw you in the halls with your friends, that red-haired boy and the one with the glasses, you never once looked at me or acknowledge my presence as everyone else did. I wondered what you were doing, thinking, or even feeling whenever I'm in class letting my mind wander about.
It isn't normal, but what is normal? Whatever people consider to be normal, it never is. Normalcy is relative. Anyone can believe an extreme as common as the air they breathe. Whatever I'm feeling right now is not common at all, but it has reached the point where I've gotten used to it. I've grown accustomed to this feeling as I have with people staring at me in awe because of what I am.
I've wondered what my life was like before these feelings grew out of proportion for you. It just came out of nowhere, you came out of nowhere. It was a very random moment indeed. It's not normal for me to feel such fervor towards another person. Even as though I may be seen as a superficial, narcisstic snob, that doesn't mean that I'm incapable of that. If you allow me to, I'd like to prove it to you.
But there's one thing holding me back from doing so… it's me. It's my stupid fear of opening myself up to another with the possibility of getting hurt. It seems reasonable to fear that, but it's stupid to live in fear of something that hasn't happened. However, there's a chance that that won't even occur at all – there's the chance that I won't get hurt. It's a sort of self-vindication for facing what I've been running from. Herein lays the conflict: should I stay or should I go?
No, that is not an allusion to that song by the Clash (though it could be depending on one's interpretation of the lyrics). How I know this, do not ask me. Should I stay this way forever and not tell you at all how I feel and be left wondering what could have happened? Or should I go through the depths of the oceans and reveal the hidden fervor I have for you with the possibility of you not feeling the same way? What am I to do?
I don't know what to do and I hate that. I usually know what to do because I can figure it out. I can't figure out this one particular predicament. You see, this isn't normal, for me at least.
Either go away or come to me and let me live and move on with my life… with or without you. I'm hoping, praying, needing, for you to choose the latter. But I'm so stupid because that does not make any sense at all. How can I force you to make a decision when I've not even made one myself?
