Masquerade

Intermission

A/N: Part three is coming up. You know what that means- especially after you read this. It means like 80-90% straight Bellamione. (Well, maybe not that straight, if you catch my drift.) Official first chapter will be out in 2-3 days time.

Love.

Ah, what a word.

A single word, yet it carried so much weight to it. There were songs sung about it, there were poems writ about it, there were stories and tales and tragedies all centering on it, even a holiday had been dedicated entirely to it. Empires had risen and fallen, towns had been ravaged, families savaged, and bodies and hearts broken all for this one word and what entitlements it brought with it. Sagas had been completed, quests finished, bloodlines unwritten, all for obtaining it. But what was love?

There was much variance on the subject of it. It was the sweet and tender feeling, the sense of comfort that one got from familial bonds. It was affection and fun and trust with those one called friends. And it was a sense of fulfillment, of being appreciated and of being one with another, with those one called a loved one. This was the kind of love, the stuff that made up fairy-tale romance. The stuff that everyone wanted to strive to; a happy ending wherein the (two lucky lovers) confessed their undying affections and spent the rest of their years happily by each others sides, requiring nothing more than their eternal bond.

But love was never as gentle as it was made out to be, nor was it forgiving. It was burning hot torment, ensnaring the mind, corrupting the senses, throwing out rationale, and making the body a slave to base desires. Love could never be innocent. It could never be truly good. It could scorch and hurt and give someone such anguish that perhaps death was preferable to being trapped in it's clutches. But no, it could never be pleasant to be in love. It drove muggles and wizards alike crazy. It made them do things they otherwise wouldn't. It made them weak. It made them laughable. Who needed that? Life was already horrendous enough as it was. There was no need for love arriving and mucking everything up.

Or at least that's what she thought of it.

For she had grown up in a loveless household, to a loveless society, to a loveless world, who openly derided her because of her name and blood and the legacy her family had woven. So it was no small shock that nothing close to resembling love grew in the barren waste of her chest where her heart should rightful be.

Or at least there was nothing there at first.

For it is hard to go about life completely unfeeling. Something is always felt, whether it be the rain slapping the cheek harshly, whether it be the hot rays of the sun branding the skin, or whether it be the sting of a smartly placed barb, sharped with the intent to hurt. It is impossible to not feel; humans are after all, feeling creatures. They need feelings to navigate the world, to survive. And no matter how hard she tried to be stoic and empty, filled only with cunning ambition, she could not avoid being human. She could hide her feelings well, a thing she got better at each day, but it did not mean she did not have them.

And slowly by slowly she began to have seeds of various kinds of love grow in her heart. Firstly, for her parents. They had raised her, and she was demanded to pay them respect and admiration and perhaps even fear. Two beautiful Iris', standing tall and proud, stood for them in her heart. But they were the first to go when her heart underwent a massive tyrannical overhaul. And as the Iris' began to discolor and shrink in her heart, their proud purple petals turning a dull brownish red, so did her parents in real life, melting into a dull brownish red until they finally were gone. Washed away by the tears of her soul, an internal rainstorm she could not release and one which only watered the most odoriferous of seeds growing in her bosom.

Secondly, she had a seed for her sisters. They were the closest thing she had to friends, to confidantes, and she trusted them all the while she tested them, to make sure their resolve would be worthy of the family standard. But time was a cruel thing, and it's hand even crueler. While the Narcissus flower survived, nowhere near the pretty glory of its earlier days, the chrysanthemum died, ripped up by the roots so savagely that it left scars on the heart. Scars that could never be closed. Scars that would not permit anything else to grow there.

Thirdly, she gained a seed for her future and later, current husband. Yes, she had loved him a bit even if this had come from a sense of resignation. He had shared her passions, which at the time meant a lot to her, especially since they had been so unsavory. But other than that, her love for him was frankly dead, a withering dandelion. She barely paid him any mind if it didn't involve their shared job. To her he was already gone from her mind and so when he really departed the world, she felt no difference to her quality of life.

And lastly, there was the love for him. It was a love born out of crazed devotion, out of admiration and amazement and childish wonder. He swept her off of her feet with his clearly planned and defined purpose. He astonished her with his magic and skill. He made her feel useful. He made her feel like she had a purpose in this world, like she was alive. Being by his side as his trusted right hand was the best feeling in the world.

This love, outweighed the others, the seed sprouting so much that it overgrew the other flowers causing them to either die or be removed from her chest violently. Once a pure sunflower of idolatry, the petals rotted and turned into a diseased poisonous ivy that constricted her heart, pouring its poison into her veins, and sending roots up to her brain. It made it hard for her to think, to breath, to disobey.

And it eventually rotted her heart so much that it crumbled up and died. She truly was what her parents had wanted her to be all along; a heartless Slytherin. But with no one to love, to follow, she awoke to her own plight, to the shithole she had dug herself into. And she grew afraid. She needed a new lifeline. So she thew a hook out and caught herself one, a guiltless little brown bunny.

And then she died.

And when she awoke once more, in her chest beat a small tentative and frightened thing that seemed almost unsure as if it was indeed supposed to be working. At first she had forgotten what it was, for it had been ages since she had last felt it. Felt the pulse in her throat, the hum of blood going through veins. She had become accustomed to empty coldness there. To being empty coldness.

But she had one- a heart again- and it was shiny and brand new, and it carried none of her old failures to love with it. She truly was reborn anew. She could choose and make her own path in life now. And she decided she would never let anyone take over her heart like the sunflower had, ever again.

But to her rising horror and concern, she found she had no control over such desires. No matter how hard she tried to poison with ill words and thoughts the huge blooming flower that grew out from the recesses of her inner most chamber, it was strong, and stubborn. It filled almost every crevice of her heart unabashedly with it's giant shiny petals. But whereas the sunflower had ruined all the other flowers in it's way, this flower did not do this. It grew in tandem with the other flowers.

And it was the most loveliest of orchids and its sweet scent warmed her chest, made her lips tug up into unbidden smiles, made her feet do the odd skip or two, made her giddy like a little schoolgirl. She hated this flower, dearly wished to have her heart back from its rule, but she couldn't do anything about it. With each beat of her muscle, with each breath, the flower grew stronger. And maybe she didn't truly want her heart back..?

She knew if she accepted this orchid, then there would a path of thorns waiting for her, promising her a world of difficulty and pain as she navigated them, with no telling if she would make it out to the other end alive.

Would she be willing to walk it just for one flowers sake?

Only time would tell.

A/N: Symbolism of the flowers- Iris (royalty and faith, since her parents are almost like royalty and she needs to be faithful to them)

Narcissus (I think this one is pretty self explanatory)

Dandelion (Often considered like a weed, totally useless and ruining the garden)

Sunflower (adoration and loyalty, as she was very loyal to him)

Poison Ivy (definitely something you want to avoid)

Orchid (flower of powerful romantic desire)

Daffodil (rebirth)

Chrysanthemum (optimism and joy)