Disclaimer: I am a poor, demented woman who takes pleasure in exploiting J.'s characters. Please don't sue me.
A/N: This is my first fic, please be nice! Constructive criticicism is welcome, flamers are not.
Warning: Mild slash. Don't like, don't read.
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Your face is an open book to me, Harry Potter.
You have to give me some credit. I have known you for twenty six years. Five years as your sister, seven years as your girlfriend, fourteen years as your wife.
Do you think you can hide everything from me? Do you think I don't notice your pleasure on hearing that Draco and Astoria are on the verge of a divorce?
I know when I see the way he looks at the father of my three children.I know when you scream his name while we are deep in our act of pleasure.
I know I can never make you happy.
Yet, yet…. I can't let you go.
It will shatter my world.