Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Tender Beast 2
Ugly Beauty
0 reviewsYou can run and you can hide. But the truth will catch up on you, when you least expect it.
0Unrated
A woman stood on the path between olive trees, with her face buried in a young man's chest. Her lament muffed.
"That bastard!" Malfoy hugged the girl's trembling body even closer.
"Does it matter, him or someone else? I feel so reluctant to myself, Draco."
"Don't say that."
"You do not understand and probably never will. Everyone wishes to be pretty. So stupid! It is not a blessing; it's a curse! What lies in my future? What's the point in being smart if I can't leave my own house? I would have gladly exchanged my body for any other, not polluted by Veela blood. What did I get from my mother? The appearance that brings nothing but pain. Every filth I have is inherited from her! She never needed me! She never wanted me! She gave birth to me, only to throw me to my father. My father! A person, who loves me more than life itself but can't look at me not seeing her! With each glance at me, I remind him of the person who crushed him, turning him into an old man. Why did I never return on holiday at home? That's why!" She was sobbing, her voice trembling, but she continued. Emotions dammed long ago were pouring like a gush. "My body is a traitor! I am poison Draco, who brings only suffering. I am a traitor! I am a murderer! Do you think I can't see how much you try to cheer me up? To make me happy? I just can't! Understand this! Even this anger I have got from her! My father is not even capable of anger, while it's choking me! It's not letting me breathe! Do you hear me! Just let me be. Leave me! Please!"
She turned around and ran to her house.
Draco knew he must have run for her. Must have assured her that she saved him more than once! Even if he could go back in time, he would have never refused to be with her. He would have explained how much he loves her. How much he needs her. He would have told her that she was not a murderer! That she deserves happiness! But he just stood there. Two hyenas were fighting in him: Egoism - which needed Elvein more than life and would never let anything risk them two being together. The second - was consciousness, which fought for a young woman's peace of mind. He quickly found an excuse for his decision, admitted one more shameful defeat, and transgressed at Malfoy Manor.
...
Bartholomew sat on the porch stairs when the darkness crept at the horizon. He was waiting for his daughter to return. Instincts told him something was off. He trusted young Malfoy, but the experience prompted, what kind of welcome will Elvein have on Diagon Alley. He thought of Viviann as well, recalling years spent together. More time passed, and the bigger the resemblance between mother and daughter grew.
He did not want Elvein to hate her mother. Therefore, he tried to justify Viviann's actions, no matter how impossible the task was. He failed. With every second, every effort, Elvein tried to show, that she had nothing in common with her mother. She was just like him. Father's heart knew the girl was deceiving herself. Who was capable of suppressing Veela's blood? Who can vanish blood-call? No one. One can only repress it. And when the volcano finally erupts, who will survive?
Viviann was in complete harmony with herself. Her unearthly beauty fused perfectly with fury in her, who got into a rage as soon as someone came too close. Therefore, she ignited lust and fear, both at the same time. While Elvein suppressed her fury with everything she had, forgiving and absolving everyone, with this, turning herself into a defenseless lamb in the wolf pack.
He thought of Draco as well. Oh, how much did he want their couple to succeed! Maybe, those two, so different people could make successful as a couple. Maybe.
Surrounded by those thoughts, he saw his daughter running toward him. He met her halfway, tucking her sobbing figure in a hug. No words were needed. He understood everything.
"Bloody Veela's ... blood!" She muttered between hiccups.
"It can't go on like this, my child. You can't run away from yourself. How can someone recognize one of her limbs and refuse to acknowledge another?! Stop being stubborn. No one can defend you except yourself."
"I am not my mother!"
"I know my child, but without being true to yourself, you would not be true Elvein as well. Dry your tears."
He coaxed his daughter. Let her finish crying. He made her dinner, as savior as only a parent can make. Then took her to bed like a small child and wished her good night.
"That bastard!" Malfoy hugged the girl's trembling body even closer.
"Does it matter, him or someone else? I feel so reluctant to myself, Draco."
"Don't say that."
"You do not understand and probably never will. Everyone wishes to be pretty. So stupid! It is not a blessing; it's a curse! What lies in my future? What's the point in being smart if I can't leave my own house? I would have gladly exchanged my body for any other, not polluted by Veela blood. What did I get from my mother? The appearance that brings nothing but pain. Every filth I have is inherited from her! She never needed me! She never wanted me! She gave birth to me, only to throw me to my father. My father! A person, who loves me more than life itself but can't look at me not seeing her! With each glance at me, I remind him of the person who crushed him, turning him into an old man. Why did I never return on holiday at home? That's why!" She was sobbing, her voice trembling, but she continued. Emotions dammed long ago were pouring like a gush. "My body is a traitor! I am poison Draco, who brings only suffering. I am a traitor! I am a murderer! Do you think I can't see how much you try to cheer me up? To make me happy? I just can't! Understand this! Even this anger I have got from her! My father is not even capable of anger, while it's choking me! It's not letting me breathe! Do you hear me! Just let me be. Leave me! Please!"
She turned around and ran to her house.
Draco knew he must have run for her. Must have assured her that she saved him more than once! Even if he could go back in time, he would have never refused to be with her. He would have explained how much he loves her. How much he needs her. He would have told her that she was not a murderer! That she deserves happiness! But he just stood there. Two hyenas were fighting in him: Egoism - which needed Elvein more than life and would never let anything risk them two being together. The second - was consciousness, which fought for a young woman's peace of mind. He quickly found an excuse for his decision, admitted one more shameful defeat, and transgressed at Malfoy Manor.
...
Bartholomew sat on the porch stairs when the darkness crept at the horizon. He was waiting for his daughter to return. Instincts told him something was off. He trusted young Malfoy, but the experience prompted, what kind of welcome will Elvein have on Diagon Alley. He thought of Viviann as well, recalling years spent together. More time passed, and the bigger the resemblance between mother and daughter grew.
He did not want Elvein to hate her mother. Therefore, he tried to justify Viviann's actions, no matter how impossible the task was. He failed. With every second, every effort, Elvein tried to show, that she had nothing in common with her mother. She was just like him. Father's heart knew the girl was deceiving herself. Who was capable of suppressing Veela's blood? Who can vanish blood-call? No one. One can only repress it. And when the volcano finally erupts, who will survive?
Viviann was in complete harmony with herself. Her unearthly beauty fused perfectly with fury in her, who got into a rage as soon as someone came too close. Therefore, she ignited lust and fear, both at the same time. While Elvein suppressed her fury with everything she had, forgiving and absolving everyone, with this, turning herself into a defenseless lamb in the wolf pack.
He thought of Draco as well. Oh, how much did he want their couple to succeed! Maybe, those two, so different people could make successful as a couple. Maybe.
Surrounded by those thoughts, he saw his daughter running toward him. He met her halfway, tucking her sobbing figure in a hug. No words were needed. He understood everything.
"Bloody Veela's ... blood!" She muttered between hiccups.
"It can't go on like this, my child. You can't run away from yourself. How can someone recognize one of her limbs and refuse to acknowledge another?! Stop being stubborn. No one can defend you except yourself."
"I am not my mother!"
"I know my child, but without being true to yourself, you would not be true Elvein as well. Dry your tears."
He coaxed his daughter. Let her finish crying. He made her dinner, as savior as only a parent can make. Then took her to bed like a small child and wished her good night.
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