Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. What the fuck were you thinking, like you were could be in some kind of relationship? You were a Zabini, for Merlin's sake, and if you couldn't even be good enough at home, why would you assume you were good enough for him?

Him.

Him.

Light and dark, the raging storm and the calm front, the sun and the moon. Remus. He was imperfectly perfect. You adored his flaws. And so did everyone else. Why did you think you could confess how in love you were with him and expect it to go well when he had half of Hogwarts' female population waiting on him hand and foot? You wanted to smack yourself. You should smack yourself.

He hadn't even said anything when you poured your heart out and told him how you felt. Not a fucking word. He stood there for a minute, and then you left. It was better than him rejecting you, as if that was any comfort. But he didn't say the words. He didn't say, 'I don't love you' 'I could never love you'. He was too kind for that. But you knew he thought it.

Why did you think it would end well? Nothing ever ends well for you. You just wanted to win. Just once. You should've kept your mouth shut, then you would've kept him, at least as a friend. It would've killed you every day to be friends with the man who was your reason for waking up some mornings, but it was better than this hellish purgatory. You avoided him with everything you were.

Sat as far away from him any time you were in a room together, and he'd never make you uncomfortable because that was how good he was, so he left it alone, for awhile, at least. You were contemplating hurling yourself over the railing of the astronomy tower when your thoughts were interrupted. You had sequestered yourself between the bookshelves of the massive library, but now you were caught.

He was the last and first person you wanted to see right now. It was ripping you to pieces but you plastered on an almost unbothered look as his words, or word, reached your ears.

"Hey."

Very inventive.