The golden trio. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Having a feud with his father in my younger years, I grew to resent the luck of the young boy. He'd done nothing more than sat as his mother protected him, as his mother banished the world of the dark lord, yet, Harry Potter got the recognition. His meddlesome friends were a thorn in my side the entire time they attended the school. Of the three, I have found myself leaning toward the only feminine third of the group, appreciating her for her intelligence. Since the first day the young lioness arrived, she denied failure, and refused rejection. At times, when I seemed harsh, she came back with three times the persistence, trying to show the world that a muggle born witch could be better than all the rest. Before the war, I noticed, that if it not for the young girl, Harry Potter would not be as famous as he was during, and before the great war.
Ah, the Great War. The beginning of the end. A war to end all wars. It was the only time in my entire life that I was an idealist. Flights of fancy seemed to take hold of me at times, making me actually believe that the war would be short, that it would be over in a battle that would make legends. I actually believed that the "good" side would win, quick and easy, only because we deserved to. I never liked fairy tales. The war was ongoing, never ending. The followers of the cause were growing weary. Strategy meant nothing. It was a war fought on shock and surprise. But let us get to that later.
Before the war, I taught. Before the war, I was never happy, I was never content. I'd been like that since I could remember. And then, I noticed her. I noticed her in a way a teacher should never notice a child, his student. In ways of pure lust, pure desire, pure sexual primal hunger. I wanted her. There was just something about her that made me need her like a drug. I was an addict in an environment meant for overdosing. Don't get me wrong, I was never in love with her. I appreciated her body. In my own manipulative manner I suggested to myself that she would be ripe for the picking, she would be perfect for molding. I never knew if she had interest in me, actually I didn't care. I convinced myself that she was a reward, for my service, and that Dumbledore could never say anything about the affair, because he owed me. I knew I was wrong, but, I had to justify my answer somehow. So, like an accomplished spy, I found a way. I lured her into thinking I was in love, I used her, I had her. She was a Queen to the throne of my bed. The first time I had her, I let my defenses fall. I wasn't a spy, I wasn't a teacher. I was a man. It was a forbidden relationship. On my part, it was an old man's fantasy, on hers, a schoolgirl crush. It was undeniably wrong. And so, in a fury of harsh words I ended it, I threatened to fail her if she ever chose to tell. Mean on my part, yes, but a necessary evil nonetheless. Her name was Pansy. Pansy Parkinson.
I know that in writing this, I am convicting myself, not of a crime, no, but of a moral wrongdoing. Hogwarts, along with the wizarding world is not opposed to those sorts of relationships, they are what makes it grow, what shapes it. But in retrospect, I was wrong, I used the young women, I bruised her ego, I hurt her emotionally. I can only ask that it makes her a stronger person. I swore to myself that I would never let it happen again, I would never use a woman for my needs. I could never risk it. I could never hurt someone intentionally. That, that was wrong.
I got to know Hermione Granger during the start of the war. No longer could I deny her intelligence, no longer could I in snide, rude ways berate her as anything as genius. We were, of course, fighting for the same side. She began working with me on research to kill the Dark Lord during the beginning of her seventh year. Having completed her studies, she dove into to task with a vigor that rivaled my own. She had her own reasons for ending the war. I, although I never admitted it before now, appreciated the help, the companionship. I started noticing her. I noticed her like a teacher should never notice his student...