I hope you enjoy this "story"...It came to me yesterday morning on my way to work..The plot belongs to me but alas I have borrowed the Potion's Master from J.K. and hope she won't mind as long as I give him back un-harmed..It would really make my day if you would leave a few words and let me know what you think..Thanks so much...


Watching. That was how he had spent every moment of his life for the last six years, just watching and the entire time knowing how her brave new world would end. As certain of the moon rising that night and following the light of day with the sun riding high across the sky, he had known and knew what he would have to do. He was a man on fire and only murder would sate his desire. To many thoughts, each echoing her name had plagued his soul, thoughts beaten to the surface, forced out by to many nights spent in the embrace of sweet salvation, Absinth. Much like Prometheus he had been bound, set on his course with unwavering devotion. Her death would fall on his hands, he was sure, as was he certain the end would in this case more than justify the deed.

It would seem it had always been his birthright, his allotment in life to be a watcher. A true observer of human nature; keenly aware to the flaws that only she can bear. How beauty and such seeming innocence can be twisted and transformed, turned into a weapon capable of such devastation. It was like the world had become a moth and she, the only light still shinning, left for them to seek. Through no effort of her own she simply just was the center of the world when she chose to let it in. A pretty girl though unremarkable when compared to some of her peers, she eluded to something deeper, some small piece of herself that she had saved all the years, knowing one day she would give them to you. It was not so much the knowledge you gained, that was unimportant, its significance resided in that it had been given and given to you. Such small little pieces doled out to admirers, followers of the light, alone they were nothing but placed one on the other drew a carefully crafted portrait of a force that clearly should not be unleashed upon the world. The hallowed halls had fallen the very day of her arrival; they had not even survived the sorting.

Within the first few weeks her minions had multiplied, she was the witty little Ravenclaw and despite their house affiliation, fledglings sought out her company and practically preened once they considered themselves to be in her graces. A series of contradictions seemed to be her makings, each carefully though slightly only connected to the other. If it had only been his desire, his need to become her world then possibly he would have let her live. Her fate would have rested with the Gods and he would have been resolute to accept their final judgment. But this, this little Ravenclaw that made the world love her, that made them all have to adore her, was beyond what the world knew to create and then control. Alone his single devotion was nothing, but much like the layers within her, when combined became a volatile storm of strength and vulnerability. In true form he had seen her give away her time, a smile, a nod of the head, brief moments in her life awarded to those who deserved her penitence and had silently prayed to be one of the chosen.

Pleasant. She had always been that way where he was concerned. Appropriate yes Sir's and no Sir's in all the right places. Not one to look away from her task, always aware that she was the best and seemingly daring anyone to question the self appointed title by making you love her even more. The more she didn't give, made your love for her all the greater. It was an addiction, the familiar sting of bliss into the vein made you forget why you loved but knew you had to have her and not just have her, but save her.

A myriad of emotions, each played across her features, unable to hide the thundering thoughts running rampant with in her own mind. All sense of freedom gone, bound to her madness as he was to his destiny. In a crisis he would choose her above even fully-grown wizards twice her age, she was a mountain of strength not likely to fall to adversity. Though really she was clever enough to never find herself in any situation she could not reason her way out of, as previous infractions of policy had been ignored by even him self. Nor was she ever above using her obvious physical traits to her advantage, as he had seen more times than he cared to stomach. The casually placed hand across someone's arm while leaning in as they spoke, seemingly enthralled at their very presence had soothed many beast's over the years. She was always clever and calculated in her attack, precision being her constant companion, careful and never approaching until clearly sited and then slowly allowing her self to be invited into your world. Or so it seemed. The reality was actually quite the contrary. You only thought her to be a passing breeze, enjoyed during the rush of wind but then quickly forsaken, but nothing was more from the truth. She was very much in fact an addiction and it was one he shared with the world.

He could not imagine what she could accomplish, what she would become and the power she could hold once she finally left his sight and was released upon the world. The uncanny ability to rise to the top, to triumph over any occasion made her a very dangerous little girl who had grown up into a potentially life altering mistake for them all. And that was just what she had become, a mistake he could not let live, any more than he could live with his own devotion. It was that simple really, summed up in its entirety by one sentence. It was all sex and death from what he could tell. He would never have her; she would never be his and only his to covet. Just as she did now she would forever belong to the minions, those idiots, fooled into loving her to excess and never for one minute receiving the adoration in return?

It had taken every moment over the last six years, observing every small detail of her being. Each move she made from the moment she entered the school had transpired in only the space between his robes and the shadows. Her life had played out, each facet exposed, stripped then burned into his mind's eye. There was nothing in her make-up that he did not know, not a thought she had he could not anticipate, and the slightest inflection of her voice could be heard over the distance of his classroom. Her features could be recalled with exacting detail, altering her moods at will, reveling in his resulting need and constant hunger of wanting more. This devotion, his miss placed loyalty would eventually become her down fall and make the way to her ruin utterly painless at his hand.

He had not flinched when handing her the book, his face schooled over the years to give away nothing. Never let them know what you're thinking and they will never know how to destroy you. If you give them nothing, they have nothing to use against you. Smiling, dipping her eyes to the floor, clearly enunciating her thank-you she had brushed her finger across his. Even then his resolve did not falter, replying only with a nod and dismissing her from the room. With the click of the door he knew she would not live through the night, again too much time spent in silent worship would be her final undoing. An endearing little trait, observed hundred's, possibly even thousands of times over the years would end his torment and return him to what he knew life to be before she became his world. The little Ravenclaw always and he did mean always casually manage to run her finger across her lips, slowly tracing the defined edges whenever she found her self absorbed in her reading, stopping only long enough to turn the page only then to begin again. He had berated his soul, cursed his carnal thoughts as visions of this one act played over and over, forever racing through his mind. The most subtle of her actions, one perhaps she was not even aware of, would finally end his damnation. Not even a release from Azkaban would be as sweet and well deserved. Sweet Belladonna had delivered him, presented him before the Gods and kissed his lips with the click of a door.

It would be painless, he had seen to that. She was after all to beautiful to die an ugly death, he wanted to preserve her, give her minions their time to grieve and decide that they could in fact out live her death. Placed lovingly and with only the precision a Master brings to any task, tiny drops of deliverance on the edge of every page in the book given to her. Given out of love, out of desperation, out of simple self -preservation. Softly her eyes would begin to flutter and sleep would claim her within its soothing arms. Silently she would slip without so much as a whimper out of his world and he would no longer be bound to anything but her memory. It was a price he would be willing to pay. He had saved them all, despite tomorrow and the sorrow it would bring. He had freed them all and one day they would love him for it.

I thank you for reading and would love to see your comments..