Eyes Shut In Ecstasy
Can you imagine how jealously I watched from afar? No, of course you can't- you're dead.
I saw the two of you. It was so obvious. You were in love. A blissful year for you, a year of seething hatred for me. But at the end of it, you died and instead of jealousy I was sad- sad and empty, because I never had a chance.
I followed you that night. You whispered the password and the door slid open. Invisible to your eyes I watched you join him in that room. I watched you remove your robe and quietly, oh so quietly, slide into the water, disguised by all the bubbles. He didn't know you were there until you put your hands over his eyes and whispered something into his ear. He turned around, then, and your arms went around his waist and you kissed, standing there in that swimming pool-sized bath.
His face was full of bliss, his green eyes shut in ecstasy. Your eyes were shut as well, and when the kiss ended, you kept them shut a little longer, as if to prolong the sensation of Harry Potter's mouth on yours. I wanted to be in there with you so much. I wanted to have you open your eyes and see me there, not him, and then I wanted you to love me with all of your heart. But it was so clear that Potter had your heart already, and that there was no way it'd ever be you and me, standing there in all the bubbles.
Oh, how I wished it, though. And when you held him close to you, I wanted to be the one in your arms. And when your head disappeared under the water…and Harry Potter threw his head back in delight…I wanted it to be me in the throes of orgasm. And I hoped, for a moment, that it was only sex, that you'd tire of him and move on and that I could replace him.
But there was no chance of that. Oh, the two of you played against each other in the Tournament- both of you were too serious about competing to deliberately let the other one win; hadn't I seen that in all your Quidditch games the year before? In all of his? But when you weren't competing, and when it was just another ordinary day, you were together.
I watched- watched too much. I spent too long watching and too long seething and too long hating Harry, and my life began to crumble around the edges. The two of you- strolling around the lake, talking and smiling those smiles. You sat near each other in the library too. Sometimes you let your leg touch his under the table, but you were always silent in there, intent on homework but needing the close proximity between you even then. In class, I glared at Harry Potter, who never seemed to notice, and I was glad you were two years above us because I would have killed Potter if I'd had to look at the two of you sitting together the entire day, day in, day out.
Sometimes he met you by the Quidditch pitch, deserted without teams training or playing, and the two of you would kiss and embrace and touch and relish the opportunity to be alone together. The third task came, and before you went in to face the maze, I watched you hold him and I watched the good luck kiss you shared.
I cheered so loudly for you when you went in, and everyone thought it was because I didn't consider Harry Potter to be a real Triwizard champion; they never thought it was because I wanted you to hear me calling your name. I wanted you to turn and see me there, and change your mind about Potter, and love me and look at me the way you looked at him. But you never turned around. You looked straight ahead, focused, and then you looked at Harry Potter just once, before you entered the maze. I couldn't see if you smiled or not, but I think you did. I wish I could have told you that I loved your smile. You were always sincere, and when you smiled, your smile danced in your eyes, every single time. If only I had gotten to see that last smile of yours.
I heard Fleur Delacour scream and I saw the red sparks go up. I was so glad it wasn't you. I wanted you to win. More red sparks, and a voice announcing Viktor Krum. Fury attacked me; you had better beat Potter. You had better not meet him in the maze, because there would be total privacy there and I would not know if you kissed. I would not be able to deal with that uncertainty.
No more red sparks, but no green ones either. It was taking so long for you to win. Why was it taking so long?
He brought your body back. He was sobbing so loudly that I could hear him. His body shook as he held on to yours. Professor Moody pried him away, and you lay there in the grass. Your eyes were wide and unblinking. Your body was still.
Dumbledore read a eulogy. I didn't cry for you then. But later, later by the lake I sat there and stared into the water and then I cried. I saw Harry Potter, too. He came to do the same. Perhaps he thought himself more justified, because you had loved him. It was worse for me; so much worse. You never loved me.
'Piss off, Malfoy,' he yelled at me. I stared at him and then I went. I did not want to watch anymore. There was no more jealousy; it was all swept away. I was sad and empty, and you were dead.