Hopeless romantics || drarry

1

I watched him again. Was this creepy and very abnormal? Yes. But this boy was different. And I wanted to somehow find out how different he really is.

His eyes creeped along the never ending rows of books hunting for one that stuck out to him. Finally he reached out and pulled out a rather old and worn out looking book taking it over to his seat and sitting down.

He calmly sat reading, in his own little world. Facial expressions changing as he read along the lines of the page, sitting there but yet maybe he was witnessing a love confession, A murder, a marriage, a kidnapping, a breakup, only he knows.

He soon got up again and walked over to get another book, but left the recent one sitting there. I ran over and shoved the letter into the pages he was reading and left the library.

I secretly hoped he didnt know who I was. Maybe it would have been more romantic if I had placed the words "secret admirer" instead of "draco" at the end, maybe it would be a bit more fun for the both of us. But all the same I'm not a well known person, I keep in the shadows and although this is a small town nobody knows my name, who my family was or anything. That's how I like it, but I'm willing to change all that for him.

Although I have never talked to him I know so much about him. His bestfriend: Ronald Weasley, who is married to Blaise Weasley. His parents: Mr and Mrs Potter, book writers and poets. Harry is also a book writer and poet although he has never published anything. His friend group: Hermione and Pansy Parkinson-Granger, Blaise and Ronald Weasley, Cedric Diggory and Luna Lovegood. All hopeless romantics.

I sat down on a freezing park bench, although my jacket was thick and long I felt as if my hole body was slowly freezing over and turning blue. I blew into my hands to warm them up, never realized the helpfulness having such a warm breath can give.

Looking up I seen two teenagers biking past, obviously in deep love. Both boys were biking slowly, both blushing -im convinced it's not only the cold making this happen- and smiling shyly at eachother. Cute. I wonder if one will rip the others heart and soul into pieces as harry has done with me. Harry doesn't know he has done such a thing, he doesn't know of my existence. He doesn't know he keeps me up at late hours of the night, he doesn't know all my poems are now based around him, he doesn't know that I fantasize going on dates with him and being able to hold his hand.

I felt now as if I'm wasting my life now imagining being with Harry. Never once has he glanced at me, never once has he smiled at me, never once have we reached for the same book and fell in love when our hands touched, never will he fall in love me. I can only hope that the feelings in the words I wrote down on that piece of parchment is enough. Is enough to make him fall in love with me, only by my handwriting and the way I use words. I hope it does, i hope that at this very moment hes falling in love with that letter, wondering who I am, his heart begging to know.

"Excuse me, may I sit here?" Some lady asked. I nodded my head,

"Of course" I said simply. She smiled and looked at me as if she wanted to start a conversation, I made it clear to her that I was deep in thought and didnt want anything to do with anything she had to say. Disrespectful you say? I call it privacy. She pulled out a small note book and locked herself in her own little world far away from mine.

Maybe you wish to know what I wrote on that parchment? Well it was rather simple:

Dear Mr H.J Potter,

I hope this will not alarm you in anyway, I only wish this to tell you the deep never ending feeling I have for you. No, please do not think of it as hate. It's quite the opposite.

I find it fascinating to watch you read everyday in the library, how you cut you're self off from the rest of the world and the only thing you pay any care to is the words on the pages on the book. I cant explain how much I adore the look on your face when you finish a book you havent been able to put down. I get it, some books I would love to last forever.

You always go to my friends coffee shop every morning and write, poetry I'm guessing. Again I adore the way your face looks when you are concentrating rather hard.

Again please dont think I'm to much of a stalker, I do admit I need to stop for I dont wish to scare you or make you uncomfortable but you're different Mr Potter. You dont know me, i don't know you and yet I'm pulled into you're uniqueness.

~ Draco

You see, I told him everything. You may think that has absolutely no emotion in it at all, but you are very wrong. I spilled my hole heart into that parchment. I only hope he sees that.

The girl got up from the bench and left rubbing her hands together. I also got up and walked in the direction of my house, I better start the fire and check on my dog.

I live out of town. It's a fair walk, about 20 minutes from the train station just on the east side of town. My house is something my friends call a "mansion" it's far from but it's not your normal house. It has 4 storys and looks like something from the children's story beauty and the beast. I have a stone parth leading up to the stairs to the front door, I put that in myself once my uncle died. He owned the house, I used to visit every two weeks and spend the night. When he died two years ago he left the house for me, and all his money. He was a rich man, he was also like me. Would rather live with out anybody knowing who he is. His name was Severus Snape. But only my family knew that. He had a dog, he never named him, only called him dog. So once I moved in and became owner of the house -and the dog- I named him ollie. Goes well with him too, he steals the olives from my salads.

I unlocked my front door, it even more cold inside than out. I called out for ollie as I grabbed some fire wood and a lighter to start the fire. Ollie came running down the stairs, almost face planting as he jumped to the main floor. I sat with him in front of the fire as the flames cirled around the dead tree. He sat in my lap and started to fall asleep. I smiled and grabbed my book from the table beside me and lost my consciousness in a world of freedom, war and murder.