Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Genres:
Angst Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 10/07/2005
Updated: 10/07/2005
Words: 1,564
Chapters: 1
Hits: 294

Dark Shines

slytherinrules85

Story Summary:
Ignored and shoved aside, one person loves another who doesn't know he exists. Before the end he will make a difference, though, of that he is certain.

Posted:
10/07/2005
Hits:
294
Author's Note:
I swear, I am a happy person. Really, I am. I just figured that writing darkfics is better than living one out.


Passing by you light up my darkest skies
You'll take only seconds to draw me in
So be mine and your innocence

I will consume

He sat in the shadows, as always. In the darkness, where he was unnoticed. She walked by and brought a moment of sunlight that was always poisoned by something Malfoy said about her. Darkness always enveloped him. He tried to fight his way out but it always consumed him again. He wished and hoped for her to save him, for her to share her innocence and grace with him, but she would never look his way.

He couldn't seem to jump out of the stereotype that nailed him to a wall. People assumed he was evil because he was a Slytherin. It wasn't true. His father was evil, not him. But the Mark...the Mark.... The Mark proved that he was. He touched his left forearm, rubbing the skin where the blackened Mark was and winced as it tingled. Evil was in his body, searing through his skin and making its way into his heart. The only thing left to fight for was her.

He'd never win her, he knew that. She was dating Weasley, the boy she'd loved for years. He remembered in fourth year, coming up from the dungeons as she screamed at him, telling him that if he had wanted to go to the ball with her so badly, next time he should ask her. He closed his eyes, remembering the scene well as it flashed before his eyes again. There was a rustling sound and he opened his eyes and she was sitting down the table from him, studying.

So badly did he want to get up and walk down to her, to sit across from her and tell her how he felt, that he didn't want to be who he was, that he only wanted to be with her. But as every fiber within him screamed for her, he looked away, touching his forearm again, knowing she would hate him if she knew. So he went back to studying and left her alone.

He was always alone. No one wanted him, no one cared. His father cared more for his standing with the Dark Lord than for him and his grandmother...well, she was old. She didn't know how to care for him, anyway, not in the way he needed.

Dark shines
Bringing me down
Making my heart feel sore
Because it's good

Life went on for him. He saw her in the hallways, he watched her in the Great Hall, but he never spoke to her, not once. Dark shone into his life and he took instructions from Malfoy He trained and he waited. Life passed him by. Studying became the one activity that he could enjoy. He sat in the library day after day and watched for her. A million times he tried to talk, tried to think of something to say, but a million times he gripped the table and held it in.

She didn't need him, or want him. Her friends would glare at him, the rare times he allowed himself to be caught staring. But then, as summer neared, he saw more of her since the exams were coming up. They were in the library together, studying and studying but never speaking a word to each other.

And then the darkness won over and began to consume him. All hope was lost for him as he watched her and her boyfriend fall deeper into love. And as they fell in love, he fell into depression. His moods got darker and darker until nothing fazed him. As he would look by Hagrid's hut during his walks around the school he saw the Thestrals in their pens and he would sit and stare at them for hours, remembering the death of his mother.

His mother had looked remarkably like her. Curly hair, though not as bushy. Brown eyes, the will to know more about everything. The complete opposite of his father. Being beautiful and smart were things they had in common. He remembered the day she had died, too. Vividly.

His mother had not supported the Dark Lord at all. She had been very...vocal about that when he was young, telling his father that he should get out while he could, while the Dark Lord was gone. She had told him they could leave, could go anywhere, to get away from him. His father had erupted into rage, yelling and screaming at her. Things were thrown and words that should never be said were spoken at the top of their lungs.

Then, at the height of their argument, his father had taken his mother's neck between his hands and choked her until she died. And as his father held her lifeless form in his arms and stared at his hands, saying, "What have I done?" over and over, he stared down at them from the top of the staircase, knowing exactly what had happened, even though he had only been five at that time.

From then on, his father forgot him. From then on, he hated his father.

Dark shines
Bringing me down
Making my heart feel sore

'Cause it's good
Your dark shines
Bringing me down
Making my heart feel sore

'Cause it's good

The day came. The Death Eaters attacked the school and he joined them, donning his mask and robe, preparing to fight with them, fight to the death. He was assigned to her, to kill her, and as he became sick with the thought of that, he accepted, knowing what he was going to do.

He didn't have a plan for anything, in the middle of the fray, as shouts and screams were heard from every corner and people were fighting. He tried to stay out of sight until he saw her, hiding in a corner, staring out into the fight as if she were frantically looking for something. He picked up a body and Transfigured it to look like Weasley and began to drag it off. She saw him and followed and he ran from her as she gained on him.

When they were finally in the dead end of a corridor, he turned to face her.

"What- That's not Ron!" she exclaimed, drawing her wand. He held his in his hand, hanging loosely by his side.

"No, it's not," he answered. "I'm sorry for luring you here, Hermione. I didn't want to, but I had no choice."

Her eyes widened. "Who are you?"

He slowly and carefully reached up to remove his mask. His shaggy hair fell around his shoulder and he stared at her with his dark eyes. "I'm Theodore Nott," he said quietly.

"I know you. You're in my year. Why are you doing this, Theodore?" she asked, wand still trained on him, free hand pressed to her abdomen nervously. "Do you want to kill me?"

"That what I was supposed to do," he told her honestly. "But I can't do that. I do have to tell you some things."

"What things? Where's Ron?" She looked around frantically. Even scared for her life, she was beautiful.

"You look like her," he murmured, staring at her.

"Look like who?"

"My mother. She died a long time ago, you see. My father killed her," he said simply.

"Oh. That must be why you can see the Thestrals." She blinked a few times.

"Yes."

"What was it that you wanted to tell me?" Her wand was jerking around and her hand was shaking.

"Not much. Just that I love you," he told her.

"You what?" Her hand fell to her side and she stared at him open-mouthed.

"I love you," he repeated. "I can't kill you. And I'll die anyway if I don't kill you. You see, I had a thought that if I ever had the courage to speak to you, we might have ended up the happy couple. But now, with this-" he pulled his sleeve up to show the Dark Mark, "-there's no chance of that. Especially since you and Weasley are together. So I just wanted you to know that I love you."

She stepped forward. "Oh, Theodore-" she began.

"Please don't say anything. This moment, even under the circumstances, is perfect for me. It's what I need to continue with what I'm about to do." He reached out and brushed some hair out of her face and smiled at her as she twitched at his touch. "I won't hurt you, trust me." He leaned down and was about to kiss her lips, was breathing on her, he could see her cheeks flush as she anticipated the kiss, but he moved his face at the last moment and kissed her cheek.

He caressed her cheek for a moment as she opened her eyes. "Goodbye, Hermione," he said, smiling at her.

Raising his wand to his temple, he murmured two words, "Avada Kedavra," and fell to the ground as there was a rushing sound and green light filled the corridor.

Hermione screamed and knelt beside his body, shaking him, trying to see if he was really dead. And as she cried, the smile on his face remained.

In life, he had been miserable because no one wanted him. And now, in death, he was mourned by the embodiment of his love. He was finally wanted.


Author notes: So now with it finished will you review? Pretty please? Thanks!