His eyes followed the black wisps of her hair, flowing down her back, bouncing against the frills of her sinuous dress. Hogwarts was, once again, hosting a Yule Ball and he had dutifully gone, always the proper guest. Except that for three years it had been less and less out of duty and more out of the infatuation he felt for the ghostly pale creature he could never stop observing. Her rose-red lips always hid a smile she never hesitated to give. Her grey eyes were like two vast pools of secrets and mischievous behavior and he longed to uncover them. She was a vibrant creature, beautiful and full of life. He pulled on the hem of his crimson sleeve, tilting his head to hopefully give the illusion of grandeur and confidence, and turned to Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Have you spoken to your daughter of my intentions, Madame Ravenclaw?"

"I have, dear Baron. You know how my daughter spurns you. She is a free spirit and I cannot tie her down. At this point it is her choice, no matter how much it grieves me. She is all I have left in this world and I do love her and want her to enjoy her happiness." The Baron grunted slightly, disappointment coloring his tone and his behavior.

"Well, then I'll make do with convincing her myself. With your permission, Madame, of course."

"I just told you, dear Charles, I can do nothing." He nodded and bowed slightly, leaving to follow the faint trail of Helena's scent.

---

Helena wandered the castle, passing through hidden tapestries and walls, having long ago discovered the secrets of her beloved Hogwarts.

"Looking for something, Helena?" Charles' deep voice resounded in the quiet of the hall. She turned, her posture going rigid as she looked upon the face of the incessant Baron.

"Nothing of your business, I am sure, Charles." She quickly turned away and resumed her quick pace.

"Marry me, Helena." She froze and turned, exasperated at the question he'd asked dozens of times.

"I think it's about time you gave up, Charles." The slight melody in her voice had been cloaked by cold displeasure. His scowl deepened and he leaned against the wall, a contradiction of human emotions. He wanted to appear indifferent to her callous words, but his heart twisted in remorse and anger. He didn't want to love her; neither did he want to pursue her. But such was the cruel irony of love. Whether he liked it or not, he was a fool.

Helena turned abruptly and rushed off again, taking advantage of his silence to pursue her quest. She kept her right hand on the wall as she walked, carelessly looking for the hidden doorway her mother had so long ago mentioned to her. She didn't realize the Baron was a few steps behind her when she fell sideways, and her scream stopped short when she looked up to see him staring down at her.

"Need help, Helena?" She scoffed and turned, gasping as she finally found her heart's desire. Her mother's diadem was inches away from her, mesmerizing and beautiful. She quickly took it, and climbed up the steps leading to the seventh floor hallways. Once out, she turned to the Baron.

"You will not speak of this, nor will you think of it. Or I will have you exiled, do not doubt me. Your name will be scorned and your wand destroyed." Her threat lingered in his heart as she once again expressed her contempt at the sight of him. He wanted to scream, to tell her that he would never hurt her, that he would guard her secrets with his life, if he needed to. He wanted to tell her that he would die for her. But they were empty words to her. Helena's grey eyes were looking at him with nothing but hate. He turned, unwilling to dignify her words with an answer, and walked away. He heard her receding footsteps whispering goodbye as his misery overtook him and the tears burned beneath his eyelids. In the past he refused to believe, that she could never love him. But he finally realized that centuries could pass, and she would always hate him.