Length: about 535 words (At least you cannot say it lacks shortness, right?)
Disclaimer: JKR created HP. I read it. I loved it. I decided to play with it. Really, best decision of my life. (And if you like the stories, I suppose you pretty much agree.)
Author's Notes: So this chapter's title is Coward, eh? I'm one myself, actually. Do you remember the second book and the giant spiders? Believe me, I would have "made a Ron" and run. (Bad wordplay, I know...) But I'm serious, I would have never been a Gryffindor unlike the redhead. Probably, I would've been in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff (or in Slytherin since I do tend to be a tad bit malevolent at times.) But then again, I never even made it into Hogwarts. I still wonder why the letter never came...? (Didn't we all have hopes when we were eleven?) Anyway, although I'm not a witch I am at least a fanfiction writer and that's almost just as good. Therefore, have fun reading...
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5. Discouraged #2 – Coward
Valentine's Day. Better yet: Chocolate Day. Of course, full moon had had to have been just yesterday and therefore almost ruined his most favourite day of the year. Not that he ever got anything from anyone or at least, he hadn't in a long time, but that wasn't really the point. The point was the chocolate. Oh yes, chocolate. A day devoted to the most delicious sweet in the world. This day was the only one in every year, if ever so terrible and awful a year might have been, that he could truly enjoy. At least up until now…
Valentine's Day. In other words: Lover's Day. And this year, all he could ever think about was her and it nearly drove him insane. When he had struggled himself to his feet this morning, his body aching, his bones cracking; when he had taken a shower, examining new scratches and scars with growing disgust; when he had eaten breakfast early, careful as every day to avoid her presence and even more careful today because of the obvious occasion; when he had rushed out of Grimmauld's with no particular destination, just because he had heard her stumbling downstairs and panicked. It was only her that he could ever think about.
And by the time he halted in front of a candy shop and curiously eyed a bar of chocolate wrapped in pink paper, the words "Strawberry Flavour" written across it in large bold letters, he began to wonder if there was any chance at all in avoiding her presence, not in person but in his head. Because she seemed to have taken her place there and whatever he tried, wherever he went, how much he fought the idea – she was there and it was hard to convince himself that he didn't want her to be there when really all he wanted was for her to accompany him, if only in his head, and for himself never to forget her, if only in his heart.
By the end of the day, he had spent almost the whole time as far away as possible from where he wondered if she might have been waiting for him. Not that she should have been. Well, honestly, not that he would not have wanted her to…
When he walked up the stairs to Grimmauld's at nearly twelve in the night, the bar of chocolate wrapped in pink paper secure in his pocket, he considered for a moment if he should give her his present. She would be happy. Probably. Or she would resent him even more and hate him forever. Possibly.
He worried. And then, he panicked again. He decided that the risks were far too high and therefore when ascending the stairs he went straight past her room and ended up in his own instead. He pulled out a book from one of the shelves and carefully placed the chocolate he had bought for her behind it. He sighed deeply.
He supposed that being a Gryffindor had never suited him well. Certainly, he didn't like to think of himself as a coward, but he could make excuses as much as he liked and yet, in the end, he simply was. A coward.
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Only cowards do not review! (Our motto for today!)
I read a Britpick website about two days ago. It was really interesting and I learned a bit more about the differences between American and British English. As a foreigner it's sometimes difficult to distinguish the one from the other. Example: British people say "anyway" whereas in (US) America it's "anyways". Such little things but they always get me. Anyway (note the spelling; I did improve, didn't I?), I would love to write more British and definitely speak more British although the accent is even more difficult than the language itself. (And there are so many different accents, too!) -sigh- But I won't surrender, of course; I mean, Tonks didn't either, right? (i.e. It's worth it!)
Extraordinarily "British" Jord says "Anyway!!" and feels very British all of a sudden; bye bye und tschüß