The Flaw In Perfection: A Snamione Romance Fanfic

Chapter 35: The Poem

How did we come to this? This is a question that kept flooding his mind after her visit last night. He reflected on the words she said before she left him. It was somewhat true. The world showed him nothing but strife. He was brought up to believe that there is no such thing as love. There is only competition. You must be strong to live. Life is an endless battle of species. If you're weak and incapable, you will surely end up losing. He tried all his life to be victorious in any chance he found, but after receiving the reward, he didn't feel any happiness at all. It seems that in the end, the loser still took the prize and not him. He should be happy. But why can't he feel it? There is no twinge of pride or self-fulfillment.

What does it really mean to be happy? How can a person feel contentment?  Can it be measured by glorious achievements? Numerous accolades? He had it all. He didn't need help from anyone.

But then he remembered the things that he wanted so badly when he was a kid. Those things can't be taken by means of galleons. Simple things that must've made him happy.

Every Christmas, he would look up to the sky and make a wish to the brightest star, hoping and believing that his family would not act as an accessory or obligation. That he would be shown love and acceptance by his parents. He also wished that someday someone would remember his birthday and greet him. Someone would befriend him to ease his loneliness. A person who would defend him to those who would try to hurt him. He wanted someone to be there to cheer him up during his downfall and praise him at his best. He waited but nobody came. Even though he knew no one would come for him, he still waited. His innocent hope never ceased until the reality struck him that he would only be alone. He couldn't believe it. All the people he knew found meaning in life. Why was it so hard for the world to give it to him? He only lacks one thing. But that single thing meant everything.

He cried a thousand seas, but no one heard. No one saw. No cared at all.

He slowly got up from his bed and saw a beautiful constellation he had never seen before. The constellation reminded him of Lily. Of Hermione.

Memories flashed back to his mind like a short preview of movie scenes in a theatre.

He was looking at the girl with flaming red hair. The girl smiled at him and handed him a letter. His first letter. He opened the letter, and tears ran down his cheeks as he touched the shining words from the paper: "Constant as the stars above, always know that you are loved."

He was so happy reliving the memory in his mind when the scene altered to reveal a girl giving him the most dashing smile he had ever seen. Her smile was brighter and warmer than Lily's smile, which crushed his heart gently.  The girl touched his hand and spoke two words that made him cry even more. "Spero Spera."

Another memory played in his mind, which shocked him to his very core.

"It's you, isn't it? The Half-Blood Prince?" The girl's voice was not demanding, but he still felt a little offended. He was caught off guard by a single question. He didn't know how or why his student found out his secret name, but there was no point in denying it now.

"Yes. It was a name I used when I was a student."

He wanted to shut up that instant, but he felt the need to explain to her.

The only thing she did was smile at him. The smile melted his heart every time. "The poems, they're beautiful. Every woman who reads will surely fall into the grasp of the poet."

His heart almost jumped in anticipation. Did she really think that the poem was persuasive enough to capture someone's affection?

He was too busy thinking about her words that he didn't see the look on her face. She was utterly puzzled. Something was bothering her.

After three seconds flat, she got up, bade goodbye to him, and disappeared from his sight. As she went away, he saw that the paper was lying on the chair. He rose from the chair and followed his little apprentice.

"Wait, Miss Granger."

His student stopped and held her breath as she turned to see face him again. He quickly walked towards her and forced the paper she left in her hand as she tried to contain her frustration and shock.

"I want you to keep this. This is yours." His words were calm and almost amiable, but still, he kept his distance.

She gave him her sweet smile, the one she gave to those she truly cared for and replied, "Give this to her, Sir. You might be surprised that maybe she reciprocates the poor poet's feelings. I don't have the right to take it since it wasn't made for me."

"Hermione... "

He opened his eyes a few minutes later. He quickly went to his table and took a piece of parchment from his desk. He dipped his quill to the rich, dark ink and began to write.

For the very first time, he wasn't writing for her. He was writing for someone else. Someone who loves him. A poem that he wanted to give her. To read to her.

Black coals facing the glowed hearth
A strand of magic suspended in the air
The fairest orbs fell into the garth.
Mount the highest cloud akin to flair
See the unforeseen beyond finiteness
Pull me into the night with a searing kiss.

I may only be drifting there, lonely and unheard
I may no longer be important or worthy to you
But now, your presence to me is heavenly true.

He folded the paper and placed a lingering kiss to the parchment. He wrote a name on the paper before he inserted it intolo a book he collected from his nook yesterday. The words glowed before the book was shut and returned to the shelf. And the name on the paper was none other than Hermione Granger. And the book placed back on the storage was a book entitled "Sense and Sensibility".

❄❄❄

There had always been a reason why he was called a spy. He can read minds, memorize movements and gestures, calculate time, hide emotions, deny truth with convincing lies, and sneak on people without getting caught.

He usually used his skills as a spy to follow Dumbledore's orders. He only did it because he needed to get necessary information, secrets rather, from the Dark Lord. But now, he was doing this spying mission on his own accord. On his own account.

He slowly followed Potter and Weasley as they went out for a stroll and a visitation to Hagrid's hut. He wasn't having a hard time at first, but seeing the ashen faces of the boys only increased his pain and guilt.

The two Gryffindors entered the hut, and he quickly removed his Dillusionment charm as he listened to their colloquy very carefully.

The half-giant was crying and blowing his nose with a grimy cloth on his shoulder while the boys started wiping tears from their faces with their sleeves.

"She said she wanted to find home. But she is home. I... I don't understand." Potter wiped the tears, which stained his glasses and shook his head sadly.

"She left without any explanation. She fled to America and left us with a letter. A handwritten letter! She didn't even say goodbye. It was all so sudden." Weasley was as miserable as the other boy, but he was the only one who made strange noise of cries. Hagrid didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what words would soothe them. The man was as clueless as he was.

He quickly vanished from the place before somebody saw him and went back to his office. He felt so much weight placed upon his heart that he lost his balance and fell to the floor. He crept slowly to reach his bed and concealed his cries to his hand.

He whispered soft little words as he fell asleep.

"I miss you. I miss you. I... love... youuu... "

It wasn't directed to the woman he claimed to love, but to the girl who showed him love, and by doing so, taught him how to love.