When I first came to Hogwarts on the train, I already knew I loved him. I know. I was only a first year, but something about him just tugged at my heart, and throughout my time at Hogwarts, my eyes always followed him. I didn't always go out of my way to look for him. But when he did come near me, I couldn't help but look.

I knew him since he was a broody, stuck up first year. And I knew him now—the friendly, flirty, but sometimes still inconsiderate guy. Sirius Orion Black. We were loose friends. We used to be closer during the first few years of Hogwarts, but we grew apart once he found his friends and I found mine. It's strange to think that I used to talk to him every day, but now, I'm lucky to catch a glimpse of him and maybe even exchange greetings.

Today was typical. We shared Defense together, though I usually didn't talk to him much. But I sat a couple seats behind him during the exam today. I'd finished my exam a bit early and checked all my answers, and I'd glance at him from time to time to see what he was doing. Maybe I'd glanced at him a little too long here and there, but nobody noticed. Or I think nobody did.

He had this alluring air of elegance while having that perfect boyish charm when he joked with his friends. It was addicting, to say the least. But it wasn't anything apart from normal. I only looked. I wasn't like those other girls who fawned on him and made him a bit arrogant. I was reasonable. I knew I wasn't pretty. I only had my smarts, and boys his age didn't care too much for that. They really only cared about looks. I don't blame him because it's physiological, and I've already come to terms that I'll never be slender nor will I ever have a pretty voice or pretty hair. I've already given up. I learned my lesson in third year when any time he spoke to me, I only believed more that he fancied me. The rumor mill had gone around that he fancied a Gryffindor, and because I'd been somewhat close friends with him, I foolishly believed that I was the one. In about a week, my stupid hopes were dashed to pieces because he confided in me himself that it was one of my best friends. I helped them start dating. They broke up during the summer before fourth year. The same thing happened twice with other girls within fourth year, and I eventually realized I never had a chance. So I grew up and apart from him once we got involved in different thing in school. I gave up.

But that didn't mean I couldn't look. It's often one of the best bits about my days, as pathetic as that sounds. But nobody knows, and that's all that really matters to me. I'd never in my life want to be associated with those girls always hoping to his next girlfriend because they like his "rugged good looks" and the fame that comes along with being the object of his affections.

I'm different from them, or so I like to believe.