Twilight

{ I was stained, with a role, in a day not my own...}

She had always been labled as "the smart one with loads of hair". She had really only ever known two real friends, Harry and Ron, the Quidditch fanatics. All through her first three years at Hogwarts, she had not minded. It gave her a sense of purpose and belonging. But during her fourth year, she had matured...she'd tricked the school nurse into shrinking her teeth, and discovered the true genius of Sleake-Eaze Hair Potion. And now... now she realized that she was trapped, trapped inside a tiny box called books. And she wanted out so badly; she watched all the other girls her age, dating, having fun, living life to the fullest they could, and even Harry and Ron had various girlfriends as they matured and got older and better looking.

And it dawned on her: she was thoroughly and utterly depressed. But all she wanted was--though she hated to admit it--love. Love, to realise her real self, not just her clever ways. Love that was real and pure and strong and forgiving of any flaws---

And then she saw him in a whole new light......

{But as you walked into my life, you showed what needed to be shown...}

As she and her peers grew, she noticed a certain change in him....he grew about six inches in one summer, to start. Then there was the decline in the insults toward she and her parents, and even at Harry and Ron. Sure, there were the occasional sneering remarks, but there was a definite disinterest. Not that Harry or Ron had any objections to that. But she was growing and changing as well, and she began to take notice of his finer qualities...she found herself admiring his sharp, articulate features, his cocky, confident posture...she realized how much she appreciated his fine, beautilfully soft silver-blonde crown....and those eyes....peircing and slate, she imagined being lost in them, and not wanting to be found. She was shocked awake the day she realised that she loved him.

She was even more shocked to find that he loved her back.

{I always knew, just what was right, I just didn't know that I might, peel away and choose to see with such a different sight....}

When she confronted Ron and Harry about it, they had taken it much better than she had expected. Harry had said that he'd accept it as long as she was happy, but "..if Malfoy lays one hand on you, if he puts one toe out of line, I will promptly pulvarize him into a pulpish waste!". Ron had simply made a remark.

"So are Harry and I allowed to date girls now, Mum?" She laughed at that one, and she and Draco started seeing each other openly.

And it was the first time she'd been truly happy in years.

Draco was acting very gentlemanly. He was courteous and polite, and he even tried patching things up with the Gryffindors. She admitted her fear of his father to him, so he visited her at her home over the summer, and he was ever-so nice to her Muggle parents. He was SO nice that Mrs. Weasley even invited she and Draco both to stay at the Burrow during the last weeks before sixth term started. They had lots of fun, with Ron and Harry and Draco all getting along, and she stayed glued to Draco's side, and they both loved it. But something kept nagging at the back of her mind.....

No matter how much of her true self Draco brought out of her, no matter how much they loved each other, his father was still a Death Eater. And Voldemort still wanted Draco Malfoy as a Death Eater. But the more time they spent together, the more sure she felt that he would resist the Dark Lord's empty promises.

And then it happened.

Voldemort, as it happened, had been planning for Harry and Draco to be in Flourish and Blotts on August 30, buying their school books. He ended up planting a Portkey, meant for Harry and Draco--he wanted to kill Harry and start Draco's training--but, as she was attatched to his arm as usual, it was she who dissapeared in Harry's place.

Draco had protected her as the Death Eaters advanced. He stepped in front of her, his wand at ready, screening her from view. Voldemort had laughed and told him that she was obsolete.

"Draco," he had said in his silkiest hiss, " you do not need her. Join me, and this filthy Mudblood will be wiped blissfully away from your mind. You will have power and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. Come, young Malfoy," he finished beckoning to her Dragon.

"No," Draco had said, "No, I will not play your idiotic game, and I will not let you talk about my Angel that way."

Without a word, The Dark Lord cursed her love--Avada Meticino, the slow and agonizing death. She ran to him and caught him before he fell, she cradled him in her arms as the laughing Death Eaters all Disapparated. He looked up at her out of those startling eyes, and she struggled to contain her tears--she didn't want him to die guilty. But he did something he'd never done before, and he cried. He was too weak and in pain to make any effort at stopping the tears. So she let it out. Because it was too much; she was watching the only love she'd ever had die slowly and excrutiatingly, and though she couldn't bear the sight, she knew she couldn't leave him, because then he would die cold and alone. The whole ordeal was causing her immense suffering, and she hugged him tight as he began to shiver. He was so beautiful, and she realized, as he whispered softly in her ear, "I love you", and she whispered it back, assured him that she would never love another, she realized that these were the last moments of a human life, and it was so tragic that it created a beautiful kalaidoscope of sadness, with a sense of slipping toward the end.

This was his Twilight.

{And I will never see the sky the same way, and I will learn to say good-bye to yesterday and I will never cease to fly if held down and I will always reach too high cause I've seen, cause I've seen Twilight.}