Cliché

Cliché. It irritates me to no end. It really does. Maybe because I'm a Death Eater's son, destined to be a Death Eater as well. Maybe because I detest 'mushy' things, and anything to do with that despicable word we call love.

Because, you know, clichés are rampant everywhere, and anywhere I go. You turn your head that way- Weasel and the Mudblood are snogging. Perfect cliché that one is. The poor, dumb Weasel gets with the smart, ugly Mudblood. Then you turn your head the other way- Pothead and Loony are talking. Yet another example- the freak with the huge gash on his head, gets together with the freak with the radishes in her ears, so that they can create little freaks, who run around, and are even odder than their parents are, if possible.

And then, there's Chang. The biggest cliché of all. Intelligent, pretty, untouchable widow, who's gone out with every noble, chivalric guy you can possibly think of. So trust fate to throw her my way.

I mean, how big of a cliché is that? Evil, sadistic, but handsome Death Eater's son, ditches evil, sadistic ugly Slytherin fiancée for Ravenclaw beauty, who happens to be on the bloody Light Side, and who's also gone out with said evil sadistic Death Eater's son's arch nemesis- the idol they worship called Potter. And then, of course, throw in the fact that her first boyfriend, stupid pretty boy Diggory, is the first murder the Dark Lord commits when he returns for the second time. Oh, and don't forget that the Dark Lord also happens to be my future boss.

It's just annoying, you know? And so damn predictable. They either expect me to forsake the Dark Side, and my family, and everything I've been brought up with, or expect me to drag Chang into the Dark Side with me.

I have no intention of doing either.

Ironic, isn't it? The one who hates clichés gets pulled into a cliché of his own. And, it's not like I can get out of it. Believe me, she's already tried. The odd thing is, the more she pushes me away, the more I am...infatuated with her, if you will.

We really are strange together. It's very much a love-hate relationship, just substitute 'love' with 'infatuation'. We feed off of each other's emotions, off each other's anger, and sadness, and joy. And, no matter how much she hurts me, or how much I hurt her; we always end up coming back. To each other, to more fights, and more insults, and more snogs, and more of each other.

Doesn't it seem unbelievably pointless, and silly of us? Doesn't it seem like we would both be better off with someone else? Doesn't it seem...cliché of us? To defy everybody- screw my father, screw the Dark Side, screw Potty, screw the Light Side, screw tradition, screw predictability, screw love, screw infatuation, screw cliché.

It would be cliché of me to tell you that I love her.

I don't.

It would be cliché of me to tell you that we were meant to be.

We aren't.

It would be cliché of me to tell you that I need her- but I do.