Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, related trademarks, or ideas.

Summary: Montague/Angelina. He is inhuman and she is forbidden.

Someone Like You

We have all met someone like David Montague. He was proud and arrogant, thinking himself invincible. He was popular, handsome, and extremely talented at quidditch. He was the epitome of a Slytherin; cunning and ambitious. Also, he knew what he wanted and obtained it.

"Out of my way, Johnson, I'm in a hurry!" he called rather carelessly, knowing everyone in Hogwarts was listening. He strode by purposefully in his quidditch gear.

We have also all met someone like Angelina Johnson. She was fair and honest, believing everyone else was too. She was not beautiful as some girls were, but she thought she could change the world. Though not terribly skilled at quidditch, she had heart. And a bit of spirit, when the situation arose.

"Shove off, Montague. You're wasting your time and energy this year, that cup will be Gryffindor's again," she taunts, though her voice holds no real menace.

Most of us have been second fiddle to someone like David Montague. He was the leader of the Slytherins, their king and captain of their quidditch team. No one could compare to the seemingly perfect boy, who had been placed on the pedestal.

"You've lost, Johnson," he says after the first quidditch match of the season. He doesn't specify whether he is referring to her beaters, seeker, the match, or the cup. It doesn't really matter.

Most of us have been friends with someone like Angelina Johnson. Her caring, sympathetic nature made her easy to talk to. Luckily, this meant she always had someone around to share her misery with, a shoulder to cry on. She never feels defeated.

"Anything is possible, Montague. Good game," she says simply, before marching into the locker room to figure out how things could be so terribly wrong and how to rectify them.

Some of us have kissed someone like David Montague. Totally in charge, his cool, calm, collected demeanor dominated the kiss. He pressed his lips onto yours and made you beg for more. It was enjoyable, but you understood that he was the dominate force and he was bending you to his will.

"Johnson, don't tell anyone about this. This is to remain a secret," he whispers as he pushes her into an alcove. Her lips are swollen from kissing when she emerges later.

Some of us have kissed someone like Angelina Johnson. She tastes sweet as your lips linger upon hers. She closes her eyes and her foot pops like a scene from a classic movie. For a moment you forget where you are. As you pull away, she smiles.

"Don't worry, Montague, this will be our secret," she promises eagerly, not knowing the consequences of these words. She has fallen prey to his trap, not that she realizes there is a trap.

A scant few of us have realized what someone like David Montague is. He is insecure, knowing he may lose his power at any moment. He is weak for not showing any mercy and hated for any show of mercy. He is a servant to his title, cursed by the restraints of his station.

"You know why this has to be a secret, Johnson. My family would never allow it, the heir to the Montague fortune and a nobody," he explains to her honestly, but cruelly.

A scant few of us have realized what someone like Angelina Johnson is. She is happy being herself. She sings in the shower and whenever she thinks she is alone. She writes poetry She dreams of love, wealth, happiness, and wants a life with David Montague.

"David, do you love me?" she asks, desiring him to answer. Her eyes burn into him, begging him to tell her truth. To say, somehow everything will be okay.

She knows what it is like to love someone like David Montague. He makes you the center of his world, one moment. Then, you are simply the girl he was casually seeing. He will give you jewelry and flowers, then remark about sending the same gifts to every girl. You know it is wrong, but you love him.

"It's over, Johnson," he tells her without any emotion on his face. She knows he has been honest, but somewhere along the lines she forgot what someone like David Montague truly is. Inhuman.

He knows what it is like to love someone like Angelina Johnson. You have never been so happy. She is pure and innocent and good. You open up your very soul to her and she heals the tattered remnants. Never, will he feel this way about someone again, it hurts too much.

"I love you," she says quietly, he doesn't answer or doesn't care. He sees the tears that are falling into her lap and remembers what someone like Angelina Johnson is. Forbidden.

The End