Beautiful Words

Eccedentesiast

Noun- someone who hides pain behind a smile.

Smiling is considered a sign of joy and happiness by many people. A smile is a sign that one is in a good mood or that something really amazing has happened to a person. A smile could also be friendly or welcoming, like one would give a person they've never met before. Smiling people are seemingly deemed as much prettier than those that don't smile— it seemed society had a thing for smiling people.

People are extremely gullible. Some people think that they're incredibly clever and perhaps they are. However, if one smiles at another individual, they're seen as happy and joyous. As long as one gives a seemingly real smile, everyone just writes that person off as happy.

However, anyone can smile. Smiles don't have the ability to keep themselves off the faces of dangerous or sad people. Murderers can still smile at the girl boarding the train, even if they just slaughtered a man in cold blood the previous night. The man who lied to the detectives investigating the disappearance of a small child gave them a warm smile as they left his house, despite him knowing fully well where that little child is. The lady who won't wake up tomorrow smiled at the butcher, seemingly fine. People don't even care, as long as the other individual smiles.

Smiling has somehow become associated with innocence. And for that, humanity tricked itself greatly.

~

"Hey, you dropped this." Harry gave Blaise a bright smile, showing off his slightly crooked teeth. Dressed in his regular school clothing, he looked like he did every other day. Dark charcoal colored hair fell over his scar and the tan skin of his forehead, which Blaise thought could have used a bit of fixing. With his big smile and slightly ruffled clothing, Blaise thought Harry was actually pretty attractive.

"Thanks Potty." Pansy gave Harry a pouty look, her eyes holding a hateful glare. Her lips them curled in a hateful snarl, making her face look more pug-like than usual. "Next time, I can get it for my little Blaise baby. We don't want your filthy germs on anything! Go pick up something else, like your mother's dead corpse or some ugly roses to place on the mudblood's grave."

Harry's smile only grew. "You know Miss Parkinson, I think that's a brilliant idea. I'll buy roses." Harry turned to walk away. "Oh, and Miss Parkinson?"

"Yes, you filthy halfbreed creature," said Pansy in a rude tone. She continued to give him the most withering look, as if she kept looking at him like that for long enough that he'd drop on the floor.

"I suggest that you pick up your... toy." Harry chuckled. "After all, we wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea about what you do with that."

She stood, looking flabbergasted. A pinkish hue filled her cheeks, which then turned into an ugly shade of cherry red. "Screw you Potter."

Harry smirked, which was one of the first times he did such. It felt foreign on his face, instead of the usual smile that he forced on his face. "You wish darling."

"I..." Pansy swore under her breathe, cursing out both Harry and his parents existence. She even used a new word that Harry had never heard before, but from Blaise's reaction, he gathered all he needed to about that particular word. "Run along, you inbred creature. Go cry on your inbred bitch of a mother's grave, Potty."

"I'll keep that in mind." Harry gave her a smile.

Instead of going to Snape's class, he went into the abandoned girls' bathroom.

~

"...is amazing." Pansy continued to babble, giving Draco a wink multiple times. Her voice was one of the most annoying sounds that Draco had ever heard, even more so than the sound of the Weasley's constant breathing. "And that Potter, never even showing up for potions. What a prude!"

"What?" asked Blaise confusedly, cocking his head to the side like a lost little puppy.

"I mean, he's so extra. Like, really?" Pansy rolled her eyes. "He's a damn brat, that's all. He could fall down the stairs, and literally no one would care. I'd probably laugh and throw a party."

Draco bit back the bitter remark that was on his tongue- I'd do the same thing if you took a great fall of a building, you useless pug. The bitter, vile words were scalding his tongue, like tea, and he wanted nothing more than to repeat those hateful words to her. It took all of his self-restraint not to scream at her; his entire body itching out to push her somewhere and keep moving, almost like what serial killers did to their victims.

How did one go about even commenting on that? Ah yes, you're right. Let's have some pastries and sip some honey tea while laughing about Potter's death. It was pointless to ponder over, but it caused Draco's mood to darken, like the sky did before a northern downpour appeared.

It wasn't only because Draco had the largest crush on Potter; it was living, undeniable humanity and softness that flowed throughout Draco's mind like his blood did that caused that reaction. Draco might have pushed and shoved, but he never wanted things to go to the extent they did- before long, it was all unstoppable. It was like a snowball, with each little thing making the first problem this monster that no one wanted to face. And it was all too much for Draco to handle alone.

"What the actual hell?" asked Blaise with a disturbed look. "That's just sick. I'm gonna go hang out with Millie."

"Go hang out with the tra-"

"Pansy, shut the hell up," said Draco with a sneer. "I'm leaving. Go act like that with someone else."

"But Dray, you love me, so you forgive me," said Pansy, clutching onto Draco's arm.

"Go away," snapped Draco irritably. He brushed her arm off, walking far away her. Draco just continued to walk far away, smiling as he did such.

He knew where he'd go: the girl lavatory. Why? It was simply because it was the only place that one could be truly alone- save for Myrtle.

And Draco saw the famous Harry Potter, one of the most beautiful people he'd ever seen, curled up against the sink, crying. He had his knees pulled to his chest, and his arms were pulled to around his legs, as if he were afraid of being ripped apart.

It was then Draco realized what needed to be done. Draco Malfoy neared his crush and wrapped his arms around him.

And so, Harry Potter, the eccedentesiast, gained someone he could trust with his pain- his future husband, Draco Malfoy.