Authors Note: Just a little piece.
Disclaimer: All belongs to Jo Rowling (you go girl!)
~*~
At one point or another they always tell you that the world is an awful place. Filled with bad people and bad things. People out to get you and to give you an unfair deal. People who lie to you and talk nasty words to your face. And if you're lucky, to your back. And some cry at night, and no one comes to their side. Some go hungry, and others feast. The people are cruel and unyielding; they are behind every corner and every window. They will beat you at your game, and you will never beat them at theirs. They will steal and cheat to meet their ends.
And she would have believed that. For she had seen that. Until she met him.
And in an odd way he restored faith in her. Faith for the human condition. He shed light on everything and his eyes danced in the shadows. He told the truth through lies and wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He saw the flaws in adults and searched for rebellion amongst the control. He was the life of the world. He was the sort of person that you'd quite like to die next to. He breathed life. You waited with baited breath to hear him say something powerful.
Of course he was an amazing. How could he not be? But he was still insufferable most of the time. He told people off and it was a bit refreshing for her (although she'd never ever admit it.) Because he was just so frank with his words and his opinions. He urged on competition and wasn't afraid of others. The ebony haired boy often teased his friends and got in food fights. Many points were taken away from Gryffindor. He didn't care.
He was selfish.
But that was okay. His hair never could be tamed it was always messy and flying with the wind, the boy just couldn't be controlled. Many a time she'd catch him on Hogwarts' front steps with his friends and they would be drinking cheap wine. She'd tell them off and go back to bed with a scowl on her pale face.
He admired her too. For she was everything he couldn't be. She was controlled and dignified. Her head was held high and she could rat someone else like no one's business. He simply couldn't. He couldn't tell Dumbledore that Roger had been smoking in the lavatory, even though he did hate Roger. That would be wrong. She listened and did what she was told. She was docile and servile. The redhead got amazing grades and tried very hard. She loved reading and excelled at all that she did. And there was the fact that she didn't have the 'cheap wine' addiction, of course. So he admired her from afar, and only from afar.
He had many girlfriends whilst at Hogwarts. Trashy girls. Girls who hiked up their skirts and insisted that the food at Hogwarts is served in 'smaller proportions.' The petite redhead was sickened by the display and she pretended to vomit whenever they walked near her. Never being superficial she didn't understand the tedious displays of make-up and colour coding closets. The boy that she had her eye on did not look happy with these girls he looked disappointed maybe even crestfallen. And at times, she could've sworn he was gazing at her instead of them. Then she'd go back to her cold oatmeal. Often she was lonely.
But she didn't quite mind being lonely; it was so much easier than. Easier, but not nicer.
It was a pitiful type of thing that you never ever tell anyone. Even if they happen to be your very best friend in all of the world. The fact is, she hadn't been kissed. And she was seventeen. Seventeen for goodness sake. She kept this tidbit of information to herself, of course. It was just horrifying.
And she direly wanted to be kissed. Swept off her feet. Right on the Astronomy Tower. And he was to smell of rain and chocolate...the best smells in the world. And she wanted the fairytale, just like the trashy girls, but she'd never admit it.
And then he came.
And part of her, just a very small part, realized that he was the absolute fairytale. The fact that he was a git, however, definitely put a damper on things.
But one day, at the start of their seventh year when the rain was pouring and both were on the Astronomy Tower working on 'homework' something marvelous happened. They were looking out on the starry sky and scrawling words on ancient parchment, and they were alone. Talking was unnecessary but he decided to have a go at it anyway.
"Pretty day, isn't it?" He said conversationally.
"It's night, Potter," she scowled. "And yes, it is."
"The rain's soaking your hair," he said as she looked down at her soaking wet red tresses.
"I can see that," she said as she tugged on a lock of hair. "Yours too."
"I can see that," he mimicked.
"Why are you up here anyway?" She muttered. "You never do your homework."
"You come up here every night," he said. "And you talk to the sky."
She looked horror stricken. "I--do--not--!" She stuttered.
"Oh Evans," he chuckled. "I've been up here."
"That's impossible," she said surely.
"Invisibility cloak," he grinned sheepishly.
"That's a dirty thing to do to someone and you know it!" She yelled as her inkwell dropped to the floor.
"Oh please," he said, dismissing her waving arm, "it was nice. It'd be nice if you could talk to someone real though, someone who talked back."
"Do not tell me what to do, Potter," she said coolly as she packed up her book-bag.
He held on to the railing as he adjusted his scarlet and gold tie. Swaggering slightly he made his way to her and before she could yell or scream he kissed her. Right on her wet, crackled, peppermint toad-red lips. The rain fell down upon them, but it didn't matter, for they were already wet. He smelled of rain and chocolate...and when the kiss was finished the girl looked at him in shock.
"Seven years," she said. "You waited seven years to do that?"
"Who said I waited seven years?" He chuckled smugly.
"Don't be stupid," she chastised, "ever since first year you've liked me. Just say it. Right now."
He did the grapevine across the wet surface and glared over at her. "So what if I have?"
"You could've kissed me before now, you know!" She said, half indignant.
"Perfect timing, Evans," he said.
"Now get away," she said quickly. "Homework." She continued to write in neat cursive on the now wet parchment. He snorted.
"Cold?" He asked.
"No," she said shaking her head as she shivered slightly. "I'm good."
He smiled, "you know. One day you'll be drowning and you'll be so stubborn that you won't even call for help from the person happily swimming next to you."
"I know how to swim," she said, "I wouldn't drown."
"Let's say the water's really deep," he said.
"I'll be fine," she said as she stared up at the illuminating moon.
"Okay Evans," he said. "But if you aren't fine...and you're drowning or whatever you won't have to say 'help help'-" he waved his hands madly about "-because I'll rescue you before you have time to say it."
She blushed. "Well then," was the caustic response.
"Lily," he said.
"Evans," she said quickly, "call me Evans."
"No, I'm calling you Lily. Starting now. Lily is much prettier than Evans anyway." She rolled her stunning emerald green eyes.
He asked her to go out with him just then. Using far too many words than necessary (she thought) he tried awfully hard to be complex and romantic and ended up falling hard on his face. She chuckled and continued to work on her homework throughout his speech.
"Okay, Potter," she said.
And he kissed her again. Emerald eyes meeting hazel. Scarlet hair meeting ebony. The rain covered them in a hazy veil and it surrounded them.
She smiled slightly; this had to be the sole most romantic moment in her whole life. They walked back to Gryffindor Tower, small, pale, clammy hand with rough browned hand.
And so the girl learned that sometimes, but only sometimes perfection comes. And perfections remains in memories till the end of time. And although she had to wait near forever for her first kiss once she got it the memory could never be forgotten.
The smell of chocolate and rain would forever remain with her.
Disclaimer: All belongs to Jo Rowling (you go girl!)
~*~
At one point or another they always tell you that the world is an awful place. Filled with bad people and bad things. People out to get you and to give you an unfair deal. People who lie to you and talk nasty words to your face. And if you're lucky, to your back. And some cry at night, and no one comes to their side. Some go hungry, and others feast. The people are cruel and unyielding; they are behind every corner and every window. They will beat you at your game, and you will never beat them at theirs. They will steal and cheat to meet their ends.
And she would have believed that. For she had seen that. Until she met him.
And in an odd way he restored faith in her. Faith for the human condition. He shed light on everything and his eyes danced in the shadows. He told the truth through lies and wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He saw the flaws in adults and searched for rebellion amongst the control. He was the life of the world. He was the sort of person that you'd quite like to die next to. He breathed life. You waited with baited breath to hear him say something powerful.
Of course he was an amazing. How could he not be? But he was still insufferable most of the time. He told people off and it was a bit refreshing for her (although she'd never ever admit it.) Because he was just so frank with his words and his opinions. He urged on competition and wasn't afraid of others. The ebony haired boy often teased his friends and got in food fights. Many points were taken away from Gryffindor. He didn't care.
He was selfish.
But that was okay. His hair never could be tamed it was always messy and flying with the wind, the boy just couldn't be controlled. Many a time she'd catch him on Hogwarts' front steps with his friends and they would be drinking cheap wine. She'd tell them off and go back to bed with a scowl on her pale face.
He admired her too. For she was everything he couldn't be. She was controlled and dignified. Her head was held high and she could rat someone else like no one's business. He simply couldn't. He couldn't tell Dumbledore that Roger had been smoking in the lavatory, even though he did hate Roger. That would be wrong. She listened and did what she was told. She was docile and servile. The redhead got amazing grades and tried very hard. She loved reading and excelled at all that she did. And there was the fact that she didn't have the 'cheap wine' addiction, of course. So he admired her from afar, and only from afar.
He had many girlfriends whilst at Hogwarts. Trashy girls. Girls who hiked up their skirts and insisted that the food at Hogwarts is served in 'smaller proportions.' The petite redhead was sickened by the display and she pretended to vomit whenever they walked near her. Never being superficial she didn't understand the tedious displays of make-up and colour coding closets. The boy that she had her eye on did not look happy with these girls he looked disappointed maybe even crestfallen. And at times, she could've sworn he was gazing at her instead of them. Then she'd go back to her cold oatmeal. Often she was lonely.
But she didn't quite mind being lonely; it was so much easier than. Easier, but not nicer.
It was a pitiful type of thing that you never ever tell anyone. Even if they happen to be your very best friend in all of the world. The fact is, she hadn't been kissed. And she was seventeen. Seventeen for goodness sake. She kept this tidbit of information to herself, of course. It was just horrifying.
And she direly wanted to be kissed. Swept off her feet. Right on the Astronomy Tower. And he was to smell of rain and chocolate...the best smells in the world. And she wanted the fairytale, just like the trashy girls, but she'd never admit it.
And then he came.
And part of her, just a very small part, realized that he was the absolute fairytale. The fact that he was a git, however, definitely put a damper on things.
But one day, at the start of their seventh year when the rain was pouring and both were on the Astronomy Tower working on 'homework' something marvelous happened. They were looking out on the starry sky and scrawling words on ancient parchment, and they were alone. Talking was unnecessary but he decided to have a go at it anyway.
"Pretty day, isn't it?" He said conversationally.
"It's night, Potter," she scowled. "And yes, it is."
"The rain's soaking your hair," he said as she looked down at her soaking wet red tresses.
"I can see that," she said as she tugged on a lock of hair. "Yours too."
"I can see that," he mimicked.
"Why are you up here anyway?" She muttered. "You never do your homework."
"You come up here every night," he said. "And you talk to the sky."
She looked horror stricken. "I--do--not--!" She stuttered.
"Oh Evans," he chuckled. "I've been up here."
"That's impossible," she said surely.
"Invisibility cloak," he grinned sheepishly.
"That's a dirty thing to do to someone and you know it!" She yelled as her inkwell dropped to the floor.
"Oh please," he said, dismissing her waving arm, "it was nice. It'd be nice if you could talk to someone real though, someone who talked back."
"Do not tell me what to do, Potter," she said coolly as she packed up her book-bag.
He held on to the railing as he adjusted his scarlet and gold tie. Swaggering slightly he made his way to her and before she could yell or scream he kissed her. Right on her wet, crackled, peppermint toad-red lips. The rain fell down upon them, but it didn't matter, for they were already wet. He smelled of rain and chocolate...and when the kiss was finished the girl looked at him in shock.
"Seven years," she said. "You waited seven years to do that?"
"Who said I waited seven years?" He chuckled smugly.
"Don't be stupid," she chastised, "ever since first year you've liked me. Just say it. Right now."
He did the grapevine across the wet surface and glared over at her. "So what if I have?"
"You could've kissed me before now, you know!" She said, half indignant.
"Perfect timing, Evans," he said.
"Now get away," she said quickly. "Homework." She continued to write in neat cursive on the now wet parchment. He snorted.
"Cold?" He asked.
"No," she said shaking her head as she shivered slightly. "I'm good."
He smiled, "you know. One day you'll be drowning and you'll be so stubborn that you won't even call for help from the person happily swimming next to you."
"I know how to swim," she said, "I wouldn't drown."
"Let's say the water's really deep," he said.
"I'll be fine," she said as she stared up at the illuminating moon.
"Okay Evans," he said. "But if you aren't fine...and you're drowning or whatever you won't have to say 'help help'-" he waved his hands madly about "-because I'll rescue you before you have time to say it."
She blushed. "Well then," was the caustic response.
"Lily," he said.
"Evans," she said quickly, "call me Evans."
"No, I'm calling you Lily. Starting now. Lily is much prettier than Evans anyway." She rolled her stunning emerald green eyes.
He asked her to go out with him just then. Using far too many words than necessary (she thought) he tried awfully hard to be complex and romantic and ended up falling hard on his face. She chuckled and continued to work on her homework throughout his speech.
"Okay, Potter," she said.
And he kissed her again. Emerald eyes meeting hazel. Scarlet hair meeting ebony. The rain covered them in a hazy veil and it surrounded them.
She smiled slightly; this had to be the sole most romantic moment in her whole life. They walked back to Gryffindor Tower, small, pale, clammy hand with rough browned hand.
And so the girl learned that sometimes, but only sometimes perfection comes. And perfections remains in memories till the end of time. And although she had to wait near forever for her first kiss once she got it the memory could never be forgotten.
The smell of chocolate and rain would forever remain with her.