A very short story I wrote this evening, while feeling angry at my boyfriend; inspired because he reminds me very much of Draco. I think, sometimes, relationships with a bit of snipping, of a healthy arguement, are the best. So, here's to Hermione and Draco: the perfect match.
The poem in the story is the work of Hartley Colridge called "She is not fair to outward view"
This is the third of a serize of stories I am writting based on poems. Please check out "Silence and Tears", my favorite story i've done so far.
Smiles and Smirks
He sat silently, alone. It was Winter, and snow had just fallen again, covering the ground with a delicate blanket of lace. He sat unmoving, blond hair falling in his eyes while he leaned forward, watching.
Hermione ducked as Ron tossed a rather large snowball in her direction. She laughed as she gathered snow in a mound of her own and hurled it at Ron; just as Harry pelted her with one.
Snowball fights were traditional for the three friends; every Christmas, when Hogwarts grew cold and icey. It was their fith year, and the best one so far. She was still the brainy one, Harry still the hero, and Ron the ever noble sidkick and comic releif. But they never thought of that. they were just a trio of friends, enjoying a snowball fight.
Draco studied them, finally moving to brush the hair out of his eyes. He had never really thought of her as beautiful; even now she was...plain, but never average, she had something more.
She would have never smiled at him if it hadn't been for that accident in the hallway. Running into eachother, her gathering the fallen books, and smiling up at him - until she realized who he was. In that moment, Draco had glimpsed her great capasity for love.
She is not fair to outward view,
as many maids may be;
Her lovliness I never knew
Untill she smiled on me:
O, then I saw her eyes were bright,
A well of love, as spring of light.
They were chilled to the bone when they finished. Cloths sopping wet, hair wind blown, and faces red, they headed back twards the castle. It was only then She noticed he had been sitting near them, with that hollow look in his eyes, cold smirk firmly in place.
He felt a chill at the look she cast to him. It wasn't hate, but a cold contempt. Somehow, something it that look made him want to smile. Seeing her like that, tossled, scowling at him left the truth undoubtable; he loved her. And that defient gaze did nothing to change it, no, it only heightened it. He actually found the nerve to smirk back.
She gave a huff and continued her quick paced trot with her friends, the slight air of intelegence with her, perhaps even a bit haughty at times. Draco smiled after her. She was so stubborn, and yet managed to inspire something very wonderful inside of him: defience, defence and love in one breath.
But now her looks are coy and cold;
to mine they'll never reply,
and yet i still can behold,
the love-light in her eye:
Her frowns are better far,
Than smiles of other maidins are.
The poem in the story is the work of Hartley Colridge called "She is not fair to outward view"
This is the third of a serize of stories I am writting based on poems. Please check out "Silence and Tears", my favorite story i've done so far.
Smiles and Smirks
He sat silently, alone. It was Winter, and snow had just fallen again, covering the ground with a delicate blanket of lace. He sat unmoving, blond hair falling in his eyes while he leaned forward, watching.
Hermione ducked as Ron tossed a rather large snowball in her direction. She laughed as she gathered snow in a mound of her own and hurled it at Ron; just as Harry pelted her with one.
Snowball fights were traditional for the three friends; every Christmas, when Hogwarts grew cold and icey. It was their fith year, and the best one so far. She was still the brainy one, Harry still the hero, and Ron the ever noble sidkick and comic releif. But they never thought of that. they were just a trio of friends, enjoying a snowball fight.
Draco studied them, finally moving to brush the hair out of his eyes. He had never really thought of her as beautiful; even now she was...plain, but never average, she had something more.
She would have never smiled at him if it hadn't been for that accident in the hallway. Running into eachother, her gathering the fallen books, and smiling up at him - until she realized who he was. In that moment, Draco had glimpsed her great capasity for love.
She is not fair to outward view,
as many maids may be;
Her lovliness I never knew
Untill she smiled on me:
O, then I saw her eyes were bright,
A well of love, as spring of light.
They were chilled to the bone when they finished. Cloths sopping wet, hair wind blown, and faces red, they headed back twards the castle. It was only then She noticed he had been sitting near them, with that hollow look in his eyes, cold smirk firmly in place.
He felt a chill at the look she cast to him. It wasn't hate, but a cold contempt. Somehow, something it that look made him want to smile. Seeing her like that, tossled, scowling at him left the truth undoubtable; he loved her. And that defient gaze did nothing to change it, no, it only heightened it. He actually found the nerve to smirk back.
She gave a huff and continued her quick paced trot with her friends, the slight air of intelegence with her, perhaps even a bit haughty at times. Draco smiled after her. She was so stubborn, and yet managed to inspire something very wonderful inside of him: defience, defence and love in one breath.
But now her looks are coy and cold;
to mine they'll never reply,
and yet i still can behold,
the love-light in her eye:
Her frowns are better far,
Than smiles of other maidins are.
