They say with love, there is heartache. I never truly understood what my parents were talking about when they first told me this. Then again, I've never been in love. I don't believe that love brings heartache. I believe love brings joy and happiness. It's all the negative emotions that bring heartache. I've sat in the great hall and watched my friends throughout my school years cry over boys who 'broke their heart' and blamed love for the reason of their misery.
I never understood really. I've always witnessed love to be the reason why my mother always greats my father with a kiss in the morning, no matter how hard the day before was. She once told me he was her reason for living. I never fully understood then, as I've heard the same words being repeated about other boys at school, from my friends. Then two weeks later of proclaiming their love for someone, they'd move on to someone else. It confused me for a while.
I came to the conclusion that love wasn't important to me. I didn't have plans to sit and moan to my friends how my boyfriend was 'breaking my heart.' I refused to be that type of girl. I planned my life as soon as I arrived home after my first year at Hogwarts.
The school that to an ordinary person should only exist in dreams, not exist somewhere far in the countryside. Only visible to those who were 'gifted' before they even graced this earth.
As you can possibly guess by now I am one of these 'gifted' individuals. Although I did not come from a 'gifted' line, I am known to my people as a 'muggleborn' this is the term for a witch or wizard that was born from non magical parents.
Yes, you heard me correctly. Magic exists.
To say my mother and father were shocked when I received a letter informing both me and my parents I would be able to attend a boarding school for witches and wizards. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting it. As a friend informed me I was 'gifted', although I must say at first I did think he was making fun of my ginger hair and abnormal emerald eyes. As at the time it wasn't uncommon for the sly ginger joke to appear in any conversation I was involved in.
Things didn't change much throughout my time at Hogwarts, I still have the small jibe over the shocking ness of my hair still to this day. It's safe to say it does get old once you've heard the same jokes about you for sixteen years of your life.
It's with great embarrassment I say my father even made one, once he saw the brightness of the ginger mop on my head.
Although I don't remember that much, I think I was rather annoyed from being taken from the warmth of my mothers womb. To think of it now, I'd say it would probably be a nicer place at this moment in time.
You see my early ramblings of love were not without a purpose.
There is a boy trying to desperately change my views on love.
And that boy has not left me alone since I stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express five and half years ago.
His name is James Potter.
Or more likely known in my vocabulary to be known as 'Potter'.
Throughout my time at Hogwarts there has not been a day that has gone by where I have not heard…
"Go out with me Evans, it'll be the time of your life"
…this sentence is then followed by the gratifying sound of my hand meeting his cheek.
Now don't get me wrong I'm not usually so violent. Potter just happens to know how to push my buttons.
He has done for the past five years.
Now for all the keen readers you'll noticed I said five years, not five and a half. There is a reason for this. After all as I entered my sixth year at Hogwarts, I noticed something very strange.
Potter was polite. He never asked me out once. Not even when he had the chance to.
This has continued on for months. It's almost Easter now too.
I was even tempted to ask Potter where he was and when he'd be coming back. Not that I wanted him back of course….
I have preferred the peace and quiet, although a small part of me, a very small part. Has missed the constant nagging in my ear. It kind of made a nice interaction in my day. Although having 'polite' conversations with him have been nice. But it still felt, wrong.
Although it is these 'polite' conversations which bring me back to my opening topic. I do not understand love. I never will and I am going to go Avada Kedarva myself and then I will not have to admit one day that I am beginning to have feelings.
I can not believe I have just written that.
Well, I can.
Although, this was not suppose to happen, I was not suppose to begin to have feelings for James Potter.
I was suppose to leave Hogwarts, begin either Auror or Healer training and then hopefully never see his face once again.
Not a year before my dream can come true decide that I've had a change of heart and think he's an alright bloke.
No. It can not happen. I am going senile. Or I've had too many firewhiskeys… although I don't drink so that has no logical reasoning.
Then again it seems all my logical reasoning has, all but left me recently.
I find my eyes wandering when I sit in the common room and they always seem to lead me to a mess of wild raven hair and hazel eyes.
Now even my eyes betray me. As well as my thoughts, I used to despise how he'd always run his hand through his messy raven locks. Now I find myself envying that hand and wanting to replace it with my own.
I owled my mother asking for advice on these strange desires I was having. Although I kept detail to a minimal. I did not want to experience the 'safe sex' talk with my mother. Even if it was through letter.
To say I wasn't impressed with her response would be an understatement.
Dear Lily, Oh darling that's wonderful! I never thought it would take you this long to figure out you had feelings for the boy! I mean Lily darling, even your father knew, and you know how dense he is. Maybe that's were you get it from come to think of it… I expect in your next letter that you're all loved up! You deserve to be darling, you need a bit of romance in your life. Is that why you've stayed at Hogwarts this Easter darling? If it is then it's ok! You're nana also sends her love as well as your father and Petunia. Miss you baby, Mum. P.s Petunia has big news about her and Vernon.
The letter seemed only to frustrate me more. Where my feelings that obvious? Could I be showing Potter my feelings now? And not even conscious of it?
So many questions seemed to run through my mind and I was hopeless to stop them.
I could understand now why people got so confused when it came to their feelings, because right now all I wanted to do was curl up in a non Potter zone and forget about my dramatic feelings for a while.
To say that would make me feel happier would be an understatement.
Although as I sit here, in the common room. I glanced up at the time to see the clock has struck past midnight already and I never once realised.
This is unusual for me even on a Friday night. I'm usually in bed by eleven. Half past at the latest.
I glance round seeing the usual Friday night crowd. The Marauders though are nowhere to be seen.
I sigh of relief escapes me, knowing I have no time to deal with them among my feelings for the fantastic fours leader.
Packing up my things I shuffle tiredly up the stairs, my mind slowly beginning to catch up with my sleeping pattern and realising I should have been fast asleep over an hour ago.
As I enter my room shared with four other girls I quickly and quietly pack my things away in my trunk and hurriedly rush into bed and silently pulling the thick velvet curtains round my bed.
Tonight I knew what my dreams had in store for me. I'd dream of him again tonight as I dreamed of him every night.
The only thing I didn't realise is that he'd dream of me too.
Now in four years time when I come across this entry in my diary I'll realise one thing.
I understood love. Love was the reason I could walk downstairs in the morning and kiss my husbands lips and smile whilst welcoming the day with him.
Love was the feeling that would swell my heart with complete utter joy when I saw him holding our son.
Love was that feeling that even though the times we lived in were hard, and the war seemed like it was never going to end. Love was that feeling that gave me hope, that as long as he was by my side.
Then I was complete.
A/N: Err… excuse the cheese… as well as the amount of mistakes that are probably still in this.
I have no idea what spurred my to write this. I should be doing my college work, but to be honest I needed some kind of relief and this gave it to me. Even if it was completely cheesy and just… well cheese.