This thing called love

I stare at the raven-haired boy who is sitting in front of me, barely listening to the potions-master who is trying to teach us something. I look at the way he tilts his head when he's paying attention and adore the way his hair stands out in every direction after he slicked his fingers through his hair when he is bored. I notice the way his shoulders bent when he's reaching for his notes and I love the way his muscles roll as he's squashing his murple-berries. I so want to touch him but I know I can't, and it's killing me from the inside.

Proffessor Flitwick is teaching us how to charm a mirror so it'll show us our deepest desires. It's my turn and the whole class, except for Granger ofcourse, failed to make the mirror show a solid picture. I cast the spell and a thick fog appears in the mirror. Just when I turn around to reluctantly accept my failure, the fog starts to form a face. First a nose and a mouth and after a while I recognise two emmerald eyes staring back at me. As fast as I can manage I try to recast the spell but the harm has been done. Somewhere behind me I hear a sharp intake of breath and a high pitched sqeal coming from your beloved friends. A loud murmer erupts in the classroom as people start to realise what this means. I turn around to look at you but as I meet your gaze I see a sheepish grin appear on your face. Granger, who was intently looking at me, now looks at you with a lot of questions in her eyes. As she sees your smile she merely casts an exhausted sigh and returns to her work.

It's remarkable how fast news spreads In this school. The mirror affair only happened fifteen minutes ago and now the whole hall is eather looking at you or looking at me while they wisper softly to their neighbours. I'm very gratefull at the moment that you seem to be wise enough not to look at me nin any way. From the corner of my eyes I see you talking to Granger and Weasley. I think you're trying to explain what's going on, but seeing the tomato-red complexion of Weasley your not doing so well. Besides my worries about your friends I'm having my own set of -one in my house is looking at me either dark or disgusted, including Snape. Now is a good time to bring up my inner Malfoy so with a cold glare and an even colder "What!" almost all of them go back to their lunch, almost. I should have known Pansy wouldn't be so easy to shoo away. She's been trowing me glances for half an hour now, jumping from mad, disgusted to even hurt. I know I should realise why I was getting the evil eye from her but I honestly don't know. I thought I was beeing very clear when I told her at the beginning of this year that I was not interested in any way. So why is she hurt now?

I got my free period now and you have a double care of magical creatures. From the owlery I see you, with your two sidekicks, walk across the lawn towards the dark forest. Next to me on the windowsill sits your snow-white owl. She's looking expectantly at my hand as if she knows I'm about to bind the peace of paper to her paw. I deside not to let her wait any longer, I watch her fly away and down to go sit on your shoulder. I watch you read the note and your eyes wander towards the owlery where you know I'll be. A soft smile spreads on your face, followed by a develish grin. Uh oh.

Dear you,

I'm sorry about what happened

during charms, but maybe it's

time to come out of our cosy

little closet?

I just don't know how.

Your me.

I see you borrow a quil from Granger and write a nnote back to me. Slowly and gracefully your owl comes fying back to me.

Dear devil,

Meet me in the middle of

the Great Hall at dinner.

They'll be shocked, but at

Least we'll be done with all

Of them in one shot.

Your angel.

I don't know if I like this plan… whatever it is.

Ten minutes before dinner and I'm nervous. What the hell are you up to? You won't just stand there and tell them at the spot, will you? They won't believe a word your saying…

What if they think I cursed you… What if they lock me up in azkaban for the rest of my life for cursing their Golden Boy… What if they think the war finaly got the better of you and lock you up… what if… I really have to stop thinking.

I slowely get up and start walking towards the door. I have to use all my selfcontroll to stop me from running up the stairs and into the Great Hall. As I walk through the big doors I see you standing in the middle of the room. A few students are watching you suspiciously but not for too long.

I'm standing in front of you now and try to figure out what your up to, but I only see a cold distance in your eyes. You just stand there looking at me until a few students look up from their fod to see what we're doing. I only have a short moment to register the develish glint in your eyes before you pull me into a soft, sweet kiss. A distand sound af clattering metal makes youi deepen the kiss and I surrender to it, there's nothing left I can do now anyway. After a moment that seemed like ages uou softly pull back, and when our eyes lock I only see war,th and desire. You grab my hand and start walking towards the griffindor table, and as we go I see a lot of shocked or pained faces. As we get closer to your friends a soft murmer erupts from the students ones again. Weasleys face is shocked, disgusted and pained at the same time, Granger is just looking at us whit thast I-know-you-know-I-don't-think-this-is-very-wise look of hers and Thomas is fighting a losing battle with the grin that so wants to break out in his face. Finnigan is nowhere to be seen, but as we get close enough I notice him sitting an the floor with an awed exprecion in his eyes. The rest is just looking shocked. But you sit down, pulling me into the seat next to you, and start to dish up your food as if nothing out of the usually happened.

Maybe you were right, and all it is we have is just this thing called love.