a/n: j.i.c. anyone wonders, a nundu is like a deadly panther thing...I think. It's in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them...which is a great book to get, btw.
He had failed.
Nights for Gilderoy were the worst. The tightening of a hard, cold hand upon his arm, Vanessa's silent breath so loud in his ears, his father demanding again and again "What are you hiding from me?!"
He stood, mute, as his father went to where she was hidden, too scared to do what he knew he should. He was sixteen for sakes alive, seventeen before the summer was out. But he was scared. Furious, scared and feeling helpless as he watched him scream at them, every muted word a slam to his chest, and he couldn't look at Vanessa.
His father had hit him, and told him to leave. And he had left. It probably wasn't as abrupt as he remembered it, but then he would have rather never remembered such a thing happening.
Nights were the worst because he remembered then.
Gilderoy could recall clearly being cast out, but the desperation, in itself at an extreme, was nothing that could be replicated. Quite aside from having nothing in the way of money after two months, Gilderoy could not stop thinking of her. It was an obsession, a dangerous one, for his mind was consumed with her, and every night he would tear it apart with thoughts of her.
Over the years, Gilderoy grew to believe (as people will make themselves believe) that he hated Vanessa. Why hadn't she come after him? She should've supported him, why did he have to do everything himself? Would she just find another, didn't she see how worthwhile he was? He was better than she was. And braver. She hadn't believed in him, that was the problem. He could fight her dragons, he would make her see her mistake.
The years accumulated, and so did the restless nights, only quicker than the years. And Gilderoy began to believe himself.
Nights.
One morning, he found himself at the doorstep of an elderly wizard who had once slain a dragon and a nundu. The morning was wet with mist, and Gilderoy licked his lips in preparation, twice, before knocking. After two minutes silence, the sound of shuffling footsteps could be heard, and his sleep deprived body hardly tensed. He knew what was coming, and he was half full of a strange anticipation as he saw the weary old face peer out a window before continuing to the door. Good. Because it was too late for regrets, he wouldn't feel them.
Gilderoy grinned in preparation.
The door knob turned.
It was decided.
The door opened, and the lies began.