A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
Word Count: 478
There you see him,
sitting there across the room.
He's laughing with his friends,
a joke you're sure you'd never understand.
He's below your class, below the people
you're supposed to hang out with.
Muggle born,
the word is like an echo in your head.
How can someone so beautiful,
be from a group that is so wrong?
Look at his eyes lighting up,
look at the way his nose crinkled when
he laughs
how could someone who's so good
with a wand, be someone who doesn't
deserve to wield it?
Now you're questioning everything you
knew.
Now you're wondering to whom you
should be true.
He won't say your name,
no he won't say your name
unless you introduce yourself.
Can you do it? Walk over across the hall?
Can you smile and hold out your hand
in front of them all,
can you tell him that you're Lucius Malfoy
and that you've been staring at him?
But if you do, can you handle the stares,
the glares
of all those friends of yours,
of those who will happily write home
to their fathers and mothers,
Malfoy's been talking to a
muggle born?
Oh, you're trembling and shaking,
a pure blood so scared to make a move,
can you do it, cross that room?
He's looking at you now, watching you now.
Can you feel it, the way his heart beats for you?
Can you feel it, the feeling of love that could be true?
Now you're questioning everything you
knew.
Now you're wondering to whom you
should be true.
He won't say your name,
no he won't say your name
unless you introduce yourself.
Brushing back your blond hair,
got to look perfect, as you rise from your chair.
You can feel their eyes upon you as you take a step,
that first step across the room.
There is talking, and whispers, but you pay them no heed.
He's looking at you, eyes meeting as you bit your lip.
Such a bad habit you should've outgrown,
now he's standing, walking your direction.
You're holding your breath, noticing how
his robes hang from his frame,
"I'm Ted," he's saying, putting out a hand.
You're reaching out, taking it in yours,
"I'm Lucius," you're voice is saying,
trembling slightly. He's smiling at you,
nodding towards the door.
"Want to get out of here?"
Nodding because you can't trust yourself
to speak, you follow, your hand still in his
no time better to confront that you've been lied to,
that this boy, this muggle born is everything
your heart's ever desired,
Outside the Hall,
walking in the grass, around the lake
hand in hand, he pulls you in,
his breath smelling of cinnamon and cloves,
yours of mint
lips crashing together,
like waves in a stormy sea,
a passion unmatched as you finally
kiss the boy.