For Daring to Love
Author's Note: Inspired by Josie421 on her story "Used," as well as my own emotions.
Prologue: Hermione Granger sits at her piano on the night of Christmas Eve,her seventh year.
The piano you sit at lets flow forth the bitter, sweet melody of .what was that again? Your fingers seem to play on their own, your sightless eyes unseeing of the monotype corsivan font that spells out "Theme From Love Story " on top of the sheet music. You lean forward unconsciously, as do all good pianists when they wish to play louder. Or with more emotion. The tears pool up in your eyes, but you don't let them stream forth. Not now. Not yet. And as you play, you struggle not to think of him. Not to let his kind eyes flash again in your thoughts. Still, despite your efforts, his eyes meet that of your mind's, and the tears long submitted now rise to dominance and fall, defeated onto your fingers. You don't hold them back now... why bother? They fall onto the ivory keys, but instead of slipping, your fingers only flow ever easier over the keys, and as hard as you try not to.you remember.
You remember how his face looked when you told him. Oh, the surprise he wore.so closely resembling shock.and something else. Disgust? Or perhaps a look of appall? Appall at something so frowned upon.something so.forbidden. And you remember, how after pouring out your feelings...expressing your love to him as you had often done in your dreams.you remember how the world stopped as you waited for a reaction. A sign, perhaps, on his part. And then.his smile. A soft, smile. And damn her imagination if she really didn't see his eyes covered by a light veil of tears.
No! Your playing has grown softer, allowing memories of Him into your mind. You quickly lean forward again in desperate attempt to block him out again, to keep the barrage of emotions away. It will do you no good. How could you have been so stupid? Yes, you sob, as you beat yourself up over it. You sob, wondering how a man such as that could ever have loved you back. You.your mind laughs at you scornfully. How could a man as wonderful as he have EVER felt anything towards you? Your fingers slow, and soften.the sad, yet beautiful melody's enchantment only enhancing by this. Another wave of tears rises and falls.
You remember how he held you in his arms.how he whispered into your ear how he appreciated your love.and you remember your tears and the half-hearted assault of your palm on his chest before you collapsed against him in a fit of sobs, hating him for being the cause of this intense emotion that has consumed you.
Your playing grows louder now. Are you angry or hurt at the next series of slides on this mental show the melody is rolling in your mind?
You remember how he held you away from him, and lifted your chin up to study your eyes. Those beautiful eyes.
The piano grows ever louder as the next sweep of memories engulfs you.
You're not sure who made the first move.all you know is your small gasp as your lips met his.and the way he wrapped his arms around your waist even as yours wrapped around his neck. How long it lasted, you can't tell. But you can remember thinking that this moment would last forever.
Your hands slow once more.nearly freezing at your internal pain over what happened next.
You remember pulling back.and staring into those eyes. Those same, beautiful, eyes you had looked into moments before. And you remember how they took in your love and admiration.and how they only reflected it, throwing it right back at you.
Yes. a sob erupts from your throat. Cry away, you miserable wreck of a girl! Cry away! You, who have let your pitiful dreams and hopes take hold of you, cry away! That's all you can do now. You ran, didn't you? You first saw the look of regret in those, big, beautiful, kind eyes that contain the soul of who would never be yours to call.and you ran. He stood up, but did he go after you? No.
Your hands fall.defeated at your sides. As defeated as your hopes for your first love. As defeated as your heart. As defeated as you are for ever daring to love Remus Lupin.
Author's Note: Inspired by Josie421 on her story "Used," as well as my own emotions.
Prologue: Hermione Granger sits at her piano on the night of Christmas Eve,her seventh year.
The piano you sit at lets flow forth the bitter, sweet melody of .what was that again? Your fingers seem to play on their own, your sightless eyes unseeing of the monotype corsivan font that spells out "Theme From Love Story " on top of the sheet music. You lean forward unconsciously, as do all good pianists when they wish to play louder. Or with more emotion. The tears pool up in your eyes, but you don't let them stream forth. Not now. Not yet. And as you play, you struggle not to think of him. Not to let his kind eyes flash again in your thoughts. Still, despite your efforts, his eyes meet that of your mind's, and the tears long submitted now rise to dominance and fall, defeated onto your fingers. You don't hold them back now... why bother? They fall onto the ivory keys, but instead of slipping, your fingers only flow ever easier over the keys, and as hard as you try not to.you remember.
You remember how his face looked when you told him. Oh, the surprise he wore.so closely resembling shock.and something else. Disgust? Or perhaps a look of appall? Appall at something so frowned upon.something so.forbidden. And you remember, how after pouring out your feelings...expressing your love to him as you had often done in your dreams.you remember how the world stopped as you waited for a reaction. A sign, perhaps, on his part. And then.his smile. A soft, smile. And damn her imagination if she really didn't see his eyes covered by a light veil of tears.
No! Your playing has grown softer, allowing memories of Him into your mind. You quickly lean forward again in desperate attempt to block him out again, to keep the barrage of emotions away. It will do you no good. How could you have been so stupid? Yes, you sob, as you beat yourself up over it. You sob, wondering how a man such as that could ever have loved you back. You.your mind laughs at you scornfully. How could a man as wonderful as he have EVER felt anything towards you? Your fingers slow, and soften.the sad, yet beautiful melody's enchantment only enhancing by this. Another wave of tears rises and falls.
You remember how he held you in his arms.how he whispered into your ear how he appreciated your love.and you remember your tears and the half-hearted assault of your palm on his chest before you collapsed against him in a fit of sobs, hating him for being the cause of this intense emotion that has consumed you.
Your playing grows louder now. Are you angry or hurt at the next series of slides on this mental show the melody is rolling in your mind?
You remember how he held you away from him, and lifted your chin up to study your eyes. Those beautiful eyes.
The piano grows ever louder as the next sweep of memories engulfs you.
You're not sure who made the first move.all you know is your small gasp as your lips met his.and the way he wrapped his arms around your waist even as yours wrapped around his neck. How long it lasted, you can't tell. But you can remember thinking that this moment would last forever.
Your hands slow once more.nearly freezing at your internal pain over what happened next.
You remember pulling back.and staring into those eyes. Those same, beautiful, eyes you had looked into moments before. And you remember how they took in your love and admiration.and how they only reflected it, throwing it right back at you.
Yes. a sob erupts from your throat. Cry away, you miserable wreck of a girl! Cry away! You, who have let your pitiful dreams and hopes take hold of you, cry away! That's all you can do now. You ran, didn't you? You first saw the look of regret in those, big, beautiful, kind eyes that contain the soul of who would never be yours to call.and you ran. He stood up, but did he go after you? No.
Your hands fall.defeated at your sides. As defeated as your hopes for your first love. As defeated as your heart. As defeated as you are for ever daring to love Remus Lupin.