Mjade (mjade_daring) wrote in eriseds_mirror,

Fic Post: Unrequited Love

Hi, just joined this community a few minutes ago and I am very much into reading and writing fanfiction! I am posting my most recent story and hope you enjoy!

Title: Unrequited Love
Author: Mjade
Summary: Does anyone really know the true pain and true torment of unrequited love? Love that runs deep yet is unanswered, unreciprocated, and unreturned? Well, I did. As a matter of fact, I still do. . .
Disclaimer: The characters of this story and the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot of this story.
Rating: PG/Romance/Angst
Author's note: Orignally written after my high school graduation last year. It’s been my school since first grade and though sometimes I hated it, I wouldn’t give my memories of that place and my friends there up for anything in the world. This idea came to me as the realization of the end of high school hit me hard. This fic is also based on a true story.
As for pairing, you'll find out.
Warning: Some major fluff and Draco is probably a bit out of character. Please bear with me.

Happy Reading!

~ Mjade

Tag by lexy_malfoy

I don’t know how it happened.
But I fell for her. I fell for her hard.
I never questioned why.
I never questioned how.
All I knew is that I did.
It was a flame lit inside me by her. A fire that keeps rising and is never-ending.

Sorrow, despair, pain . . . those were feelings I learned to endure and learned to live with. Each building with every passing year. While a fire in me has been burning vibrantly ever since it had been lit. I had refused to admit it at first, even to myself. I had believed it to be inconceivable and it was, yes, but despite all odds it still happened. And I couldn’t stop if from happening even though I knew I should have. I hated her for doing this to me and I hated myself for feeling things for her that I know I shouldn’t be feeling. All forbidden emotions, all hidden feelings. That’s why she didn’t know. That’s why she could never find out.

Does anyone really know the true pain and true torment of unrequited love? Love that runs deep yet is unanswered, unreciprocated, and unreturned? Well, I did. As a matter of fact I still do.

You might think that I don’t know what love is. And had it been seven years ago, I would have agreed with you. People say that love and being in love is the most wonderful thing in the world. But they never mention the other person or how it would break your heart if the feeling wasn’t mutual. Or how it felt as if an arrow pierced your soul because they didn’t share the same feeling and they never would.
For me, being in love was a feeling I wish would fade but I had to admit I desired it, I needed it. It was both wonderful and painful. Agonizing yet invigorating. It made me feel alive. It was something to hold on to. It was sense of solace regardless of the pain it caused. And no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much my heart ached, I still craved the feeling as much as I hated it.

Because I love her. Though she didn’t love me back.
She couldn’t. I mean after all the things I’ve done to her, how could she? I yearn to see her, long to stand close to her even though it meant that all I received from her were hate-filled eyes and spiteful words. And I don’t blame her. Because I am the one who provokes her. I’m the one who glares at her and gives her insulting remarks. And she has every right to look at me that way, to say things like that to me. Merlin knows, I deserve it.

She’s a Mudblood, Potter’s friend, scum of the Wizarding world and I was supposed to hate her, supposed to think she was lower than dirt. Regardless, of how I felt. Don’t you think I tried to stop it, tried to hold it back, tried to deny it, tried convincing myself again and again that it was just a mere infatuation? But, deep down, I knew it wasn’t. And I couldn’t keep denying it. And I was supposed to hate her for what she is. Despise her, lie to her, because I was forbidden to let her know the truth. Why does there always have to be conflict? Why does there always have to be barriers? Why can’t I love her openly, freely, without restraint? Why can’t she love me back?

Yes, I know it’s stupid. I know it’s absurd. I know I shouldn’t feel this way about a Mudblood, this Muggle-born witch who I’ve loved yet hated for the last seven years in school. A girl, with just at the sight of her, ignites a fire in me over and over again. Now, I can’t picture life without her. Now, that’s what is inconceivable. I was going out of my mind thinking of her, dreaming of her, knowing she could never be mine.
I love her yet I know, that deep down, she could never love me back.

And that is not even half the agony of unrequited love.

It was nearing the end of graduation. I knew that because I was watching her as she presented her closing speech. I love watching her. I always have. Every time I gazed at her or glanced her way, it was always like seeing her in a new light. Every angle of her more beautiful than the next.

Her light brown hair cascaded down her back in waves and it was pleasant to watch the way the sunrays casts numerous shades of auburn on every strand. And I don’t even know why I ever considered brown eyes dull and plain. Her eyes were beautiful. Intense yet gentle brown eyes and how they lit up when she laughed. The flecks of gold in her brown eyes made me feel warm, contented, and even happy on very, very rare occasions. Blue, green, or cold grey eyes could never have that same effect on me.

I know I sound ridiculous. I know what you may be thinking. But I don’t give a damn what you think. I’m not trying to be a poet, I’m just . . . I’m in love. I’m in love and I can’t do a damn thing about it. Why is it that ‘bushy-haired’, ‘buck-toothed’, and ‘skinny, ugly Mudblood’, are the only phrases that come out of my mouth? Why can’t I just say she’s beautiful, she’s brilliant, she’s perfect? Because that’s what she truly is. I wish I could stop pretending, but I know I can’t.

And that’s why she could never love me.

“Without any further ado, I’d like to say congratulations students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Class of 2005!” She exclaimed grinning, as she lifted her black hat and threw it into the air. The other students followed her example. They tossed their hats up in the air and shouted that they were free. Some people were jumping out of happiness, even some of the girls were crying. I was doing neither.

I did not shout, I did not jump, I did not cry, and I did not even feel the energy to fling my hat upwards. I just sat down clutching the black wizard hat tightly in my fists. I would never see her ever again after this day. Why was everyone so bloody happy? I was dying inside.

The students and their families started filing out of the Great Hall into one of Hogwarts’ larger courtyards to begin the Graduation feast. Most of the younger years had already gone home on the Hogwarts Express the day before, so Dumbledore saw no need to have the feast in the Great Hall with the four long house tables. In his opinion, there was no need to separate a Hufflepuff from a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor from a Slytherin.

The courtyard was decorated with many floating lanterns and beautiful plants and vines adorning the pillars, music was playing, and a magnificent banquet was prepared. The graduates had shed their graduation togas into dinner clothes. Everybody eagerly sat down, awaiting the commencement of the feast.

But I felt no necessity to stay. I couldn’t stand the smiles on people’s faces, I couldn’t share the happiness they felt, and I couldn’t join the celebration of another year gone. It was not a cheerful occasion for me. Knowing that this would be the last time I’d see her, I refused to even look at her. I can’t take the pain. And you should consider yourself blessed that you never had to experience what great pain a simple glance can bring.

Looking at her from my table during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, gazing at her during numerous classes that we shared, or just watching her from my dorm window were she was in the courtyard spending time with her two friends. Sometimes, most times, it was sheer torture.

I chose to leave the courtyard at that moment. I strode up the schools steps, and suddenly I broke into a run. It didn’t matter where I went; down the corridors, through the hallways, pass the classroom doors . . . I didn’t want to think about her again, though running aimlessly around Hogwarts was useless. No matter what I did, nothing could ever relieve me from her. Even at night, when sleep would finally welcome me, she would be there to plague my dreams once again, the moment I close my eyes. Yet, they were dreams that made me never want to wake up again.

When I turned the corner, I slowed my pace as I came in front of massive oak doors. It was these very doors that marked the entrance to the ‘renowned’ Hogwarts library. It was a little unnerving that my own thoughts had led me here, to the very place where she spends most of her time. But unsurprising as well, since the library has acted as my sanctuary during the weekends.

She occasionally came and worked in the library on Fridays and Saturdays, where I could watch her from a table nearby. Though on Sundays, she spent the day with her friends and never came to the library. I was always there, waiting, even though I knew she’d never come. I just needed time to think, to get my mind off things, and it worked. It indeed got my mind off a lot of things; everything but her.

I took a deep breath, pushed open the massive library doors and stepped in. And froze. Because there in front of me was the last person I wanted to see and at the same time, the only person I longed to be with.

Her wavy hair was up in an elegant ponytail and she had changed out of her toga into a Muggle evening dress. She was wearing a black, fitted, halter bodice where the dress just reached right below the knees. Needless to say, I had never seen her wear something like that before. She looked absolutely mesmerizing.

She was standing beside a bookcase with a hardbound burgundy book in her hands. She seemed focused on what she was reading and didn’t look up. I assumed she didn’t hear me. Thank Merlin.

It was a little ironic I have to admit. I left the courtyard so as not to see her and came to the only place I could find at least a little comfort—and that was where she was. I had to leave the library fast before she noticed me. Quickly. Quietly.

As I turned to reach out for the door handle, I knew I had failed. I knew I was a little too late.


She had seen me. My breath caught in my throat. My heart was pounding painfully against my chest. It took all my willpower to turn around and face her.

“Granger,” I said, surprised to finally find my voice.

Suddenly she glared at me. “What are you doing here?” She snapped sharply. "Where are your friends?”
I inwardly flinched at the harshness of her tone. It stung me, every time she spoke like that and it hurt knowing that she had every right to talk to me that way. After all, I knew that the things I said to her were much, much worse.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone was so happy and I . . . I knew I had to leave the courtyard,” I said dejectedly. “And Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Zabini . . . I don’t even know if they were ever my real friends.”

She looked a bit startled. It was clear to me that she hadn’t expected an answer like that. And she had no idea why I said something relatively civil to her. Hell, even I don’t know why nothing rude or inconsiderate came out of my mouth. That was probably the only civil statement I ever said towards her throughout the whole seven years in Hogwarts. It felt . . . different.

“Oh,” She said quietly, looking at the floor.


It was uncomfortable and soothing being this close to her with no one else around. What am I saying? How could two words that directly contradict each other be in the same sentence? It’s just like a Gryffindor and a Slytherin being together. But that’s how she makes me feel. And at this moment I was bursting to talk to her and speechless at the same time.

“How about you?” I managed to choke out.

She looked up at me, slightly perplexed. “Er. . . I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to this place yet.” She looked out the window near the bookcase. Dusk had already set in. “It’s been a real home to me. All my friends are here, my classmates, my teachers, all the people I care about . . . I can’t believe I’m finally leaving Hogwarts at last…”

It was a pleasant feeling listening to her when she didn’t sound like she detested you. I just stood watching her as she smiled softly, probably recalling all the memories she had in this place.

“The library was always a sense of comfort for me. That’s why I frequently spent my time here,” she continued. Suddenly, she turned back to look at me. She seemed to be returning to her old self. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to understand. It’s predictable isn’t it? That a Mudblood bookworm like me would find someplace like the library soothing,” She said harshly.

I smiled sadly. “No, actually I agree with you,” I told her.

She looked stunned, her eyes widened in surprise.
“The library has always been a place of solace for me, as well. And Hogwarts, no matter how many times I complained about it, it was the one place where I’ve always felt safe,” I finished.

Huh? What did I say?

Another unexpected answer and now I was sure that the words coming from my mouth were working on its own accord. Man, I sounded like a . . . a. . . I don’t even have a word for it. I had no clue why I was being so nice. I tried so many times before to be at least a bit polite to her, but it had never worked. Why only now?

She looked rather taken aback. She was probably wondering why I was acting strangely. Why I was acting so out of character. The thing was though, I wasn’t acting strangely nor was I acting out of character. This was me. It had always been a part of me, no matter how small a part it was. It’s just that this was the first time I actually showed this side of me openly and in front of her. It indeed felt different, but it also felt . . . nice.

She looked at me as if she felt guilty for snapping at me while I just answered her calmly. “Oh,” she said again.
Another silence passed.

Sometimes there were silences I could not stand. Like the times Potter, Weasley, or even Granger would be glaring at me and I couldn’t help but throw an insult at them, just to see how they would react. Man, I was such an idiot. If I had just--

“I’m sorry,” she said, interrupting my thoughts.

Sorry? Did she say she was sorry? What for?

“You’re sorry?” I asked, finding my throat a little dry.

“Yes,” she said, looking up at me. “After all, you’re father was captured and brought to Azkaban and he received the Dementor’s kiss only two weeks ago. It must have been really hard for you, especially witnessing a death that is so unbearable.”

My voice and my mouth refused to function. I think I might have just lost the ability to speak.

“And I’m really sorry about your mother,” she continued. “I heard she’s been under the Imperious curse for so many years and how bad the effect of the curse was on her. I know she’s been restricted to St. Mungo’s as a mental patient.”

“Er . . . oh, yeah,” I managed, feeling stupid.

“I thought that after Voldemort was vanquished, everything would be much better,” she went on, sighing sadly. “I mean we fought for the common good of everybody. Thinking that it would benefit everyone, but I guess we overlooked you. I know you’re not a Death Eater or anything but the war made your family fall apart.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s the end of the school year and I didn’t want you to leave thinking I was heartless or anything. I know that coming from a Muggle-born it probably doesn’t mean very much to you but I do actually care. I know it hasn’t been that easy for you and I wish knew your situation sooner. I think I would have understood you more. But, anyway, I just want to say I’m. . . I’m sorry.”

I was speechless for a second then smiled a little. “And I’m sorry.”

That statement completely took her off guard. After all, she’s never heard me apologize before. Come to think of it, I never heard myself apologize before.

“For what?” She said.

“Well, I haven’t been that nice to you or to your friends,” I said. I can’t believe I was saying sorry for that.

She smiled lightly. “That’s a bit of an understatement.”

“Okay, okay! I was horrible!” I said, holding my hands up. “Does that seem a suitable enough word for you? I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done to you throughout the years. Calling you Mudblood, infuriating you enough that you slapped me, making your teeth grow, being insufferable as you have called me on several occasions, and terrorizing the lives of Potter and Weasley. I’m sorry for that.”

“Are you feeling well?” she said, still rather shocked.

“Hey, you were the one who said it was the end of the school year and we’re probably never going to see each other again. I didn’t want you to leave thinking I was heartless or anything. Believe it or not, Granger, I do actually care,” I said mockingly.

She rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’d better go down now. Harry and Ron will be wondering where I am,” she said walking towards the door.

I exhaled. Oh well, it was fine while it lasted.

“Oh and by the way,” she said turning towards me and taking my hand and shaking it. “Congratulations on your graduation. And don’t say that.”

“Say what?” I managed to choke out. Just the touch of her hand sent electricity shooting through my veins.

“That we’re probably never going to see each other again. Because believe it or not, Malfoy, I don’t mind seeing you again in the near future,” she smiled and walked out the door.

That was it. That was the last and final time I’d see her walk through those doors. I probably may never see her again, in the near future or the next, despite what she said. She’ll probably forget all about me, grow up, find a job, and without a doubt become very successful. I would just be a vague memory in the back of her mind.

Does anyone really know the true pain and true torment of unrequited love? Love that runs deep yet is unanswered, unreciprocated, and unreturned? Well, I did. As a matter of fact I still do.

Because I, Draco Malfoy, am in love with Hermione Granger.

I loved her, though she didn’t love me back.

And against all odds, I will always love her. . .

- Fin -

A/n: I know, I know! I’m sorry about the fluffiness, the cheesiness, and the ooc-ness of the chapter! Forgive me, please. I wrote this right after my own graduation day and I finally have the courage to post it and of course I’d be very grateful if you would enter a review! Please, please review! Praises and constructive criticism are always appreciated and taken into regard. Have a great summer!


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