100 Suns.

Hello there!

Well, I just wanted to bring this quick oneshot —  a short story for all of you. I've had this saved on my hard-drive for a while and decided it was time to upload it and share it with all of you. I hope you like it. (:

P.S. The song's from 30 seconds to Mars. (Which is written in Italics )

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                                                                         I believe in nothing

                                                                Not the end, and not the start

It was funny how things changed — how something went from being right to being wrong.

He remembers watching her board the train. He had found her amusing with her excited expression, button-like nose practically sniffing the air in with a thrill, and her bushy brown hair becoming all he could see as she lost herself among the other students climbing into the train too, even as he tried to follow close.

That had been the first moment he saw her, the first time he ever thought nothing bad about someone; the first time he just smiled dimly as he had watched her go from compartment to compartment looking for some blasted toad that shouldn't have mattered but it somehow did.

But that was until someone said in a tone that resembled the one he spoke with, the tone that everyone around him spoke with said so dryly, "seems like Longbottom has already gone and befriended trash," he looked away from the view of that bushy brown hair, finding a boy he knew as Marcus Flint looking thoroughly disgusted, "if that Mudblood comes in here, I will curse her teeth in."

And just like that, not even without a warning, not even without a moment to redeem itself, he looked away from that girl with the brown hair and brown eyes; a part of his brain that was automatic started hating her without a second thought.

                                                                      I believe in nothing

                                                            Not the earth, and not the stars

He was gazing out towards the stars, watching without a noise, without a whisper, without his breathing interrupting as the little specs of lights up above gleamed and twinkled.

There was something majestic about them, he knows; something that made them seem so unreachable, but that always had millions of men trying to leap themselves towards them. It was the way they looked so small, he reckons, the way they glow like jewels, how unimportant sometimes people think they are, but that they're strong points of power even if they're diminutive.

And with the thought of small but intense points, his brain thinks of a pair of brown eyes that glared time and time again at him. That almost toasted-honey color in them that shine in the candlelight, that become even more golden in the sunlight — but that was always frowning at him with her own share of muted disgust.

"…you'll be next, Mudbloods," it repeats in his head once, twice, three, four times as he inches closer to the edge of the Astronomy Tower.

How could he have said it? How could he have mustered all that hate, all that judgment in one swift moment and throw it at her like a rock from the ground? He thinks about it some more, narrowing his eyes at the blanket of midnight blue that is the sky.