Gold in Fire

"The best thing about loving and being hurt is that you get to know what true love really is. For as gold is tested in fire, and so love will be perfected in pain." ~Marvin Jay M. Tores

Chapter Two, Version Two: Daydream Believer

I woke without an alarm at six o'clock in the morning. I always do. I am cursed with the trait of being a "morning person."

I stretched my entire body, extending my arms as far as they would reach above my head and pushing my feet towards the footboard of the bed, curling and uncurling my fingers and toes. I yawned and reached up to rub the sleep from my eyes. My hand brushed my cheek on its journey across my face.

I had grown a nice stubble during the night. Sighing, I sat upright and swung my legs over the side of the bed, wincing as my feet hit the cold wooden boards.

Lethargically, I made my way to the bathroom adjoining the seventh-year Gryffindor boys' dormitory. I prefer to shave by hand rather than by magic.

After smothering the soft lather across my face, I drew the blade down my right cheek.

I wince again.

As the muggle song goes, "My shaving razor's cold, and it stings..."

♪~♫~♪

A smile.

A simple upward curve of the lips that sets the eyes aglow.

If she smiled at me- just for a brief moment- my day would be worth living.

Otherwise, there's no point.

Every day's the same: Breakfast, lessons, lunch, lessons, dinner, homework, bed.

At least today there would be a little variety. I have a tutoring session in Charms.

And I'm the one being tutored. By whom, I have yet to find out.

Understand that I may not be the best student, but I won't accept a 'D' in any class! 'Dreadful'...one more step down and I'll be a 'Troll'! I don't understand why I'm doing so badly in Charms; I never had before.

Idly, I sauntered to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Seating myself at one end of the Gryffindor table, I chanced a glance to the center where she was laughing with her friends.

Feeling my gaze on her (as she usually does- eventually), she looked up, tossing her wavy crimson hair over her shoulder.

There was fire in her eyes- the good kind: a love for life.

Meeting my eyes, the fire was suppressed. I could almost feel daggers of ice framing my heart.

Instead of those luscious lips curving beautifully into the smile that I so longed for, her upper lip raised in a snarl.

Pain.

It's what I live for.

♫~♪~♫

The day had gone by exactly as I had expected it would: breakfast, lessons, lunch, lessons, dinner. Well, that's so far.

I have my tutoring session to look forward to.

I only wondered for a brief moment who my peer tutor was going to be. I just really didn't' care.

My footsteps echoed in the surprisingly empty corridor; it wasn't too long after dinner- I couldn't imagine that everyone was already in their dorms.

However, I didn't think on it too much longer because I had reached the unused classroom (which would momentarily be in use) that I had been instructed to report to.

I pulled further open the already ajar door.

It hit the wall behind it with a loud band that caused the room's solitary occupant to look up.

I froze as the seventeen-year-old girl's crimson hair swished around, finally falling over her shoulders, framing her startled expression.

Upon recognizing me, her brilliantly emerald eyes shaded to jade.

It was her.

Lily Evans.

♪~♫~♪

There's something about flowers that I've noticed since... well, since something twisted the universe.

Some of them cause pain.

It's funny because if you have a daisy, you're going to think it's the most beautiful thing that you've ever seen. But, if you lose it, you'll swear that it cut you.

And then, eventually, you find a rose.

Isn't it strange how the most morbid things are the most alluring and attractive?

A black rose symbolizes death, and I've only seen one prettier.

Crimson petals. So deep of a red that the only other thing one could compare the color to is blood.

This comparison that would cause a plethora of people to cringe, captivates.

That which captivates, however, draws blood, if you get too close.

No one'll know, though, because the blood blends in with the petals.

But you can't leave, can you?

Why?

Because it takes over...

Don't be surprised.

It's what you've been waiting for your whole life.