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A/N: This is in response to a challenge set by Midnight Magic over on the HPFF forums! The main character is to be Bill Weasley, and the theme to be 'Lost love'. I hope I have done the characters justice!

 

Disclaimer: Everything you've heard of, is as I'm sure you are aware, J.K.Rowling's creation and not mine :)




 

Blurred lines.

There once used to be a time where the above line used to make me laugh, you know? I mean, blurred lines…Seriously? It made no sense when that was the case. But then something happened to me, and suddenly it wasn’t so much of a funny case. It wasn’t something I could call an easy to make decision either; it wasn’t, and every little jolly aspect just happened to be a façade. The girl, well, it’s always about the girl when you have no other worries, isn’t it? That was how it was for me. Young, foolish, carefree and with every chance of drawing in a girl of my choosing should I have bothered to look that close.

Beauty was never something that phased me. I was always someone to hold a preference to someone who was more shadowed, quiet, to someone who would not use their beauty to get anything. I always found the air of mystery that surrounded them to be alluring. Always. And yet there was always that moment where I half wondered what would ever have happened if that very mystery suddenly turned on me. What if it no longer mattered whether it was there for me to solve? What would happen should it have ever gone?

Well, whilst I was at school; that almost never seemed to have happened. I always had attention I wanted, all the puzzles I wanted to solve, and everything I wanted I could ask the Professors for. Being a Prefect and a Head Boy brought with it extra perks I had never realised I could have had, and let me tell you, I took very well to them indeed.

Sarah. This one girl’s name was so simple, and even her personality was such a simple one. She was neither stunning, nor did she have that personality that caught anyone’s attention. A brunette, with brown eyes, pale skin, and something I would be inclined to even call a skill that allowed her to blend in to the background. I rarely saw Sarah with a group of giggling girls, and I rarely saw her at any of the school’s social gatherings either. But she intrigued me, and that was simply because I rarely even heard her. That expression where women should be seen but never heard? Yeah. If there was anyone who could uphold that phrase, it was this girl. At times I was left wondering whether anyone else even saw her around.

The less people seemed to be aware of Sarah, the more I became aware of her. Her quiet movements, the subtle stance, the way she pushed her hair behind her ear because it seemed to irritate her when she was trying to focus on something. Endearing? Perhaps. It made me want to talk to her, or at least what I didn’t know about her made me want to talk to her. So I did. I approached this quiet girl, and whilst our conversations were very vague to start off with, she brought with it an interest and I found I actually enjoyed talking to her.

As it turned out, we did end up becoming really great friends; I found that the occasional day I didn’t get a chance to speak to the Hufflepuff seemed to drag. Even years after graduation we kept in touch. I worked for Gringott’s as a cursebreaker and as a result, rarely spent much time in England. Sarah, well…I never quite spoke to her about her own career because she never actually told me. As time went on, however, we seemed to drift apart. Our time became shorter together; something seemed to pull things apart during the darker days when everything that could go wrong did. Death Eaters everywhere. I wanted Sarah to be safe; she was one of my closest friends, and yet it seemed that she felt she was invincible. I couldn’t say the same for myself.

But then I heard something that caused chills to run down my spine. In fact, until I heard the news, I had not even realised that Sarah meant quite as much to me as she did.

I found out on the even I came back to consciousness. It was in the Hospital Wing, and Fleur was there. Now Fleur, let me tell you a little bit about her. If there was ever a beautiful woman, it was this one. Stunning to the last nanosecond of time. And she had dedicated herself to me. I couldn’t have been a happier man because we loved each other. The back of my mind always did think of what happened to Sarah; she had never gotten back to me after all those letters.

Now I know you’re probably thinking that it was only friendship we shared so it shouldn’t matter all that much. But there had been times, stolen moments within the depths of vacant broom cupboards and hidden alcoves, where we had been more than friends. Oh most certainly more, but I won’t go in to details. Her absence had pushed me in Fleur’s direction, after all.

But I get side tracked. It happened on the day I was attacked, attacked brutally by none other than Fenrir Greyback. The attack itself had been nasty, so much so that even now it gives me horrific images. And before I had lost consciousness, I had seen a figure that I thought might have simply been my imagination playing up in my last hopes of freedom or just before the back rolls of unconsciousness took over.

Sarah, but not as I had ever seen her, laughing. I smiled; glad to see her laugh and show an emotion that was bright and positive, but at that moment a new sort of realisation overtook me. I didn’t even have the courage to stay conscious and face her at such a time because the attack was too great. I never even knew what to do at meeting such an old friend who had stopped keeping contact – a part of me didn’t even believe it to be the former Hufflepuff’s existence. When dad, Arthur Weasley, told me who my attacker was, I was sure that my injured face had already done a great job of covering any paling of my features.

The girl who I had thought to be Sarah in the background, and the hurt that she had done so little to actually help me, hurt. At times, I wondered whether she even knew who I was, and apparently she did. It was at a much later thought, at a nightmare even, that her laugh struck me as ominous and strange. Why would a person laugh at an attack? Had anything have happened to her, I would have left Fleur’s side, I know I would have.

And she, who was once in my thoughts during the day, began to haunt my nights and turn my dreams in to nightmares. Just as dangerous as her father. Just as cruel.

Some people remain a mystery; their silence alluring. But some secrets aren’t worth knowing, and I wish I had never known this one. I’ve learnt my lesson though; to never meddle in what isn’t mine to meddle with. It’s always the silent ones that pose the greatest threat.

Sarah Greyback had always been more than met the eye.  




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