Of Angels and Demons
Summary: One-shot 'But what you deserve and what you get never coincide.' He hates her because he loves her and she knows it. They both know it, yet they could never be.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Do not sue. Also any Kelly Clarkson fans may recognize some phrases that are from her song "Beautiful Disaster". I blame listening to that song multiple times and seeing the trailer for "Must Love Dogs" multiple times, for the beginning paragraphs of this fic. Enjoy.
I lied as I am giving you one last story. Another of my favorite pairings that is a bit out there. I hope you enjoy this and see one of the wonderful ships I'm sailing.
-Frozen-Passion-
She was a mess. I may have been the only one who realized it but nerveless realized it I had. She was a living, breathing disaster. It was wonderful. But to ever think about her in such ways was forbidden. It was one of the most severe sins I could ever commit. What would my father say, knowing the things I thought about her? He would probably coolly tell me that I was dishonoring my name. He would tell me that I was an embarrassment and a disgrace to them, my unloving family. The only thing that mattered to my father was honor- and well money and power too. He could not be bothered with petty things like sons and love. I wasn't supposed to feel anything akin to love. It was forbidden.
But could I really be blamed? She was beautiful, in a chaotic sort of way that is. She created chaos, steeped herself in it and yet seemed to ignore, all in the same breathe. Sure everyone thinks she strange and a bit dotty- hell so do I, but its that oddness that makes her so, so appealing. It was her eccentric ways that made her so captivating. Even if I was the only one who saw her that way, it was who she was. She was more then an eccentric sprit, wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone. She was so much more.
We are two completely and totally different people, yet we share so many similarities. As hard as it is to believe, I assume I am the only one who can see her invisible walls. The ones she barricaded herself behind, trapping herself inside her mind to block out the bitterness of reality. Whatever tragedies she had faced, the pain she had experienced, it broke her. It left her as a broken, hollow shell of a witch, hurt but refusing to show the pain. She had a façade. Her abnormality was a mask; yet living so many years with it had made her oddness almost like a reality. It became a permanent part of her character, and yet a deadly flaw that constantly wounded her heart. That is until she learned to build her walls. It isn't too surprising though, that I recognized them for what they were. I would never have noticed them if I hadn't recognized them to be the same barriers that surround my pitiful, cold existence and me. She's numbed to the core, fighting tragedy after tragedy. I wonder if she has ever noticed that she is the biggest tragedy of all? A tragic angel with a deadly fall from grace.
She caught my eye in my second year and ever since then she has mesmerized me with her unusual charm. It was hard not to notice her. She stood out from all the rest of the girls, standing in a line, waiting to be sorted. Though, in plain robes she looked no different from anyone else, she had this aura around her. It drew your gaze to her, made you see her. I'm positive I wasn't the only one who noticed her but was I really the only one to see her for whom she was? An exquisite extreme. She caught my attention and so I wasted many years, watching her. I observed her as she went about her day. I memorized her little routines, imprinted every expression she had in my mind. I watched as she ate meals. She was always on the far end of the bench and she wouldn't talk to anybody because no one sat close enough to talk to her, unless she wanted to shout of course.
When she walked to class, she walked alone, nose usually buried in a paper. Yet she would walk straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she could quite easily run into someone. But she wasn't oblivious. She knew as well as I did they were scared of her and they gave her petite figure a wide berth when she floated through the halls. They found her ways and her beliefs amusing and yet they were all scared of her. When she decided to speak her random comments were dead on and insightful. It was a bit scary to know the girl who always seemed to have her head up in the clouds, always knew exactly what was going on around her. She scared me, I'll admit it, but this odd way of dealing with her life was just part of her intrigue.
So I spent my days watching her, but no one knew that when I gazed across the great hall I was looking at an actual object and not just staring into space. Well, everyone but her that is. And yet she wasn't disgusted by the interest I took in her because she watched me too. And she watched me watch her. She understood and she knew and I can tell she found me quite fascinating, but yet, still she hated me, although, I couldn't blame her.
And I can't complain that she hates me. I hate her too. I hate her for making me love her so god damn much. I hate her for making me fall, hard, into something that definitely wasn't snow. I fell into something that I was unaccustomed too. Something that a heart helped you through, but my hearts been long out of use. My hearts been looked up tight for such a long time, and it was a long time ago when I decided to throw away the key.
And so I'm in love with her. She caught me in a trap that I cannot escape from. I love her and I hate her, a walking contradiction of feelings. But I know she feels the same way. In quick stolen glances that last long enough for me to know they are real, but yet still not long enough I see her secret love. Her love for my cruelty and me. Love for my watching eyes. Eyes that are trained to find her when she enters the same room. But neither of us are slow and we both know what we feel we should never have felt in the first place. So neither of us makes a move. Neither of us attempts to make something out of this shared, frozen passion. We will never have the freedom to become because we are both heavily chained to entirely different worlds. What we feel, what we want, its forbidden.
Forbidden…
A forbidden, frozen passion we hide deep inside. We hide it from everyone around us. They are blind to this unique connection we share. In many ways that is a good thing. It means my father will never find out. When there's someone or something I care about he eliminates it. I can't let him do that to her. And yet, even as the unawareness of our peers is a blessing in disguise it shows me that we, as a pair, as partners in life and death, could never be accepted. So we hide it from everyone else, but we can't hide it from each other. She wants me. She wants me to hold her. She wants me to love her. She needs me to love her. I can see it clearly in her eyes. The way she looks at me, its different. There's something, something inside her frozen grays eyes. It's like a flickering candle. It's calling me, telling me there is warmth and life inside, that she is more than just a lifeless shell. I know I can find it if I took the time, but it is time I do not have. I can't save her. I can't even save myself. She can save me, but she doesn't want to save me. She knows the price you must pay when you meddle in the affairs of demons. She knows how hard you get burned.
But even if she wants nothing to do with me, that doesn't mean she can't want me. When they taunt her she is indifferent, but when I look at her, her silent suffering is written clear across her face. I know I am the only one who can read her so clearly. It's almost sad. Sad that I am the only one who will ever fully know her, and yet still she deserves so much better than me. She deserves much more than the cursed, sinned, tainted man- who am I kidding, the puny weak little boy that I am, who can only love her from afar, and with only half a heart.
But what you deserve and what you get never coincide. I know this far too well. I deserve death and yet I'm still sitting on this earth, living, breathing, and rotting in my cell, devised by the chains my father placed upon me. I waste away in life, we both waste away. We are two lost souls desperately holding on to what could never be, and what we could never become. It's the only thing left to keep us alive, to allow them to call us human. And I would be willing to fight until I spent every ounce of my dignity just to hold onto that truth. To hold onto this painful existence we created for each other. If our lives were painful and twisted before we met, we made it hundreds of times worse. After all you can't tell your heart whom to love. You can only try to forget that such love as of the type your heart holds actually exists. She deservers better. I deserve better. What God did we piss off so much that we are given these torturous lives of silent suffering? Who is all I ask. And yet my questions will never be answered. I fell out of Gods good grace long ago and he has long since shunned me. Oh Luna, you could never be mine. Angels, even fallen ones, never belong to demons. And Malfoy's are always demons.