A/N ok, so this is my first attempt at fanfiction. it's a pretty short drabble on what a certain person't thought's might have been on the day Harry's parents got married...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything... it's a terrible state of affairs.

He's Beautiful

He's beautiful.

He always has been I suppose, though I never truly realised until around our sixth year. And by then I was sure; there was no chance. Absolutely no possibility that he could ever love me. No matter what my feelings were.

And so I hid my feelings. I buried them deep, or at least that's what I tried to convince myself. Looking back though, I'm sure I was wrong, that I hadn't been quite as subtle as I'd thought, or hoped to be. All the times I was certain he had caught me staring, all the times I was afraid that he was going to suddenly realise and decide that if I liked him in that way, then he would change his opinion of me. He would no longer shower me with the attention I so craved.

Once I tried to get his attention by making him jealous. I tried spending more time with Remus, but he never flinched. I could tell he was confused, but he was perfectly happy allowing me to do whatever made me happy. And that's why I loved him. All my life, I felt that nobody truly cared for my happiness. I had been at odds with my family since I was eleven years old. They weren't happy about the type of education I was receiving. They scorned me for being proud to be in Gryffindor. They never understood. But I always knew he would. He was, after all, the absolute definition of a true Gryffindor. Hell, look up the definition of the word Gryffindor in the dictionary and he'd be there. A half-page size picture of James Potter smiling and waving, clad in his quiddich uniform, with the revered 'C' blazing in gold on his chest against the backdrop of a deep, deep red…

I think I'd buy that dictionary…

Today is of course being heralded in the Daily prophet as a great day. The wedding of James Potter. Heir to the Ancient House of Potter, a pureblood dynasty, and heir to the Ancient House of Potter's fortune. To be wed to Lily Evans. That would be all said on that matter, what with the fact that James' chosen bride was a muggle born and all…

And so here he is. Standing before me. Handsomely dressed in his brand new, custom fitted robes, bearing his family crest, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his bride. I want to reach out to him and tell him all about my feelings, but I can't. It would probably ruin the rather strict ceremony involved with wizarding marriages…

And so I stand. Watching him, just like I always had as the ceremony proceeds. I can't interrupt, I can't hold him or kiss him or even hope that he would allow it.

After all, what kind of a best man would I be if I tried to stop the wedding?