Watching From the Sidelines
He was obsessed. Infatuated. Addicted. Everyday he watched her from the shadows of the corridors. Whether it was her going from class to class, talking with her group of friends or walking hand in hand with her boyfriend.
It killed him. It tore him apart. He was always there. Watching from the sidelines, but never taking part.
First Year
There on Platform 9 ¾ stood an eager eleven-year-old boy saying goodbye to his family. He gave his teary mother a farewell hug and clasped hands with his stoic father.
As he was hauling his trunk onto the scarlet train, he saw, in the midst of the crowded platform, a large group of redheaded wizards. Never in his life had he seen such a vibrant colour. No, it was either black or white. Never red.
He quickly found an empty compartment and sat down. He didn't expect anyone to join him. Everyone just opened the compartment door, took a peek inside, froze and ran off, no doubt going to tell their friends that they had an encounter with a Death Eater's son.
It wasn't fair. His life had been shaped out for him. He had no control.
Suddenly, a loud giggle erupted from the hallway outside his compartment. He glanced up and caught site of flaming red hair. Quickly, he leant his head on the glass window, closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, hoping they'd leave him alone.
If he had looked up, he would've seen the redheaded Weasley girl named Rose shrug and clamber in, sitting directly opposite him. Soon the compartment was filled with jokes, chatter and Exploding Snap cards.
He felt uneasy. His family of three never made such a racket. He lifted his eyelids slightly and peered out at Rose. From the corner of his eye, he studied her. She was very pretty for an eleven-year-old girl.
For the rest of the journey to Hogsmeade, he watched and analysed her every move, laugh and word. He noticed that whenever her girl cousins started talking about boys, she was feign interest and add little mumbles of agreement at the right times.
He noticed whenever someone needed help with some overdue homework, her eyes would light up and almost jump the person in need.
Suddenly, he knew Rose better than her family did. It was ironic really, because she barely even knew his name.
Second Year
From a dark corner in the library, he saw studying hard for an upcoming Potions exam. She angrily scribbled sometime down on her parchment before dunking her quill in the ink again.
The library was his favourite place to be now. She was always here. Everyday between breaks he would come here and watch her.
He would think how cute it was when she flipped her hair angrily. He would think how breathtaking she looked when she was annoyed at the text. Her pale face would gain colour, almost like her Weasley blush, her button nose would flare and her eyes would narrow slightly.
Everyday, he would sit here and contemplate a way to talk to her. He thought about asking her for tutoring lessons, or offering to carry her school books and bag back to her common room, or simply go up and say 'Hi'.
Every time he would leave empty handed. Just as he built enough courage to talk to her, something or someone would get it in way. First it would be an annoying cousin asking her to do their homework. Or he would be reminded that she doesn't know he exists.
After a million futile efforts, he stopped trying. Obviously the universe didn't want them together.
He told himself he was totally content with watching her. He told himself he didn't want anything more. He told himself he would get over this stupid crush.
He told himself he would stop caring.
Third Year
He thought he convinced himself. He thought it was over.
But his gaze would still unconsciously drift over to the Gryffindor table during meals. His eyes would still search for the redheaded girl whenever he entered a room. His ears would still perk up and strain to catch her voice.
It was sick.
He had not been the only male in the school to notice how Rose Weasley had changed over the summer. Rose was starting to fill out more. This made him angry.
He had to deal with the fact that he was not the only guy ogling her. It pained him, physically pained him to see her laugh with someone else. How he wished it were he by her side. How he wished it were he attempting to ask her out.
During the Hogsmeade trips, he sat in the Three Broomsticks drinking away his sorrows. Butterbeer was like his new best friend. His best friend. His only friend.
He was still hidden. Hidden beyond the tapestries and shadows. No one even looked at him once. He didn't need the Invisibility Cloak. He was effortlessly invisible. Not that anyone cared enough to look.
Fourth Year
He spent this year in agony. He thought the pain wouldn't stop. His whole body was numb.
Everyday, he would go through his forced routine. Wake up, breakfast, go to class, lunch, go to class, dinner, and sleep. It was as if this routine was a tape that was stuck on repeat.
Not once, had he not dreamed, thought or wished that he could be with Rose.
No, but he was too late. After the Christmas holidays, Rose Weasley surprised Hogwarts with a new boyfriend. Ravenclaw Chaser, Lysander Scamander. They had gotten together over the holidays at the family Burrow. The Scamander family was invited over for a Christmas dinner because Luna Lovegood was a close friend to the Potter-Weasley family.
This didn't stop him though. Not at first anyway. He still proceeded to watch Rose come and go day after day. He didn't expect anything to be different just because she had a boyfriend.
But of course, he was wrong. He had to endure and suffer through the snogging, hand holding and mushy looks. Lysander was living his ultimate dream and gave him a front seat view of the show.
He tried and tried to stop watching her. He knew his infatuation was becoming on the borderline of stalker. He did not understand how one meagre person could affect him so much.
How one smile from that one person could make your world light up and your chest soar. Even if that smile wasn't directed at you.
How one accidently brushing of bodies as they passed each other in the corridor could set tingles all over your body for the remainder of the day.
He didn't get it. Whenever Rose took one look at Scamander, he wanted to castrate him and hex him into oblivion. He felt the pain escalating day after day.
Whatever he did, he just couldn't stop himself from caring about her.
Fifth Year
He was a Prefect. This made him feel a little better about himself as he was put on the map.
He knew he had grown 4 inches over the holidays and had also filled out around the shoulder chest area. He was starting to feel like he was finally living his life.
Wherever he walked, girls were giggling and gossiping while making pointed stares at him. No guessing who they were talking about. His popularity at Hogwarts started to increase as he was named Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch Team.
For the first time ever, he finally believed that he had what it took to actually forget about Rose. News spread that Rose had broken up with Lysander because she was interested in someone else.
He immediately went stiff when his teammates told him. Jealousy bubbled up inside him once more but his hatred went from Scamander to an unknown face.
He shrugged of his jealous feelings, telling himself that it was only natural for him to still care about Rose. He told himself he'd been obsessed with her for 4 years now and that it was fine for some lingering feelings.
However, deep deep down, he knew that wasn't true and that he still had feelings for her.
Yet, he enjoyed the sight of girls throwing themselves at him. Rumours circulated the school about how he was an exchange student from Durmstrang.
He really had been invisible for the past five years.
It didn't take long for him to find an attractive 6th year Slytherin and walk around the halls snogging her, earning jealous looks from guys and disappointed ones from girls.
He and Melanie were the new 'It' couple of Hogwarts.
She didn't mean anything to him though, not like Rose did.
He knew he was still in denial. He just didn't have enough guts to admit it. So when one day he had a dream about snogging Melanie senseless, he was surprised that Melanie's face had suddenly morphed into Rose's.
He didn't know what was more shameful. Cheating on his girlfriend in a dream, or actually hating the fact that he woke up because he enjoyed kissing Rose so much.
That day at lunch, he pulled Melanie to him on the bench, in front of everyone, and started to ravage her mouth.
He was desperate to prove that Rose didn't hold ANY kind of appeal towards him and that he only dreamt her because she was a challenge.
He roughly pulled Melanie onto his lap and she straddled him, grinding her hips into his. He moaned into her mouth and shoved his tongue into her mouth.
Using one hand, he grabbed a handful of Melanie's hair and brought her closer to him. He rested his other hand on her ass, helping her grind on his crotch.
As their tongues fought for dominance he heard a throat being cleared not far from them. Professor McGonagall was not happy.
Melanie blushed furiously but he merely shrugged and smirked as he looked over at everyone in the Hall. All the students wore expressions of shock, disgust and a hint of arousal.
He led Melanie up by the hand before bowing to everyone and stalking out of Hall.
If he had turned back, he would've seen Rose's face crumpled up in sadness and pain.
Sixth Year
Due to intense Quidditch practices he no longer had enough time for homework, let alone a girlfriend. About a month into 6th year, he had broken up with Melanie. She was heartbroken and started crying whilst screaming at him with insecure questions such as 'Am I not pretty enough?' 'Am I not smart enough?' or 'Am I that bad a shag?'
She had then stomped away but not before calling him a womanizing whore.
He didn't feel bad about it, not when all the things she asked him weren't true. She was pretty and smart and actually a pretty good shag. He just didn't care about her the way he did someone else…
He realised he hadn't wanted Melanie because he was still harbouring feelings for someone else. And an intense Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw was all that was needed for him to bring those feelings out.
He was sitting on the benches watching a tough game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Secretly, he was analysing each teams strong points and weaknesses for the benefit of his own team. He knew he was a shoe in for Quidditch Captain next year.
However, his concentration was always disrupted as he found himself watching a certain Weasley chaser soar through the air gracefully with the quaffle.
'Rose Weasley shoots… AND SHE SCORES! Another 10 points for Gryffindor!' exclaimed Gryffindor commentator Stephanie Jordan.
He was impressed and dazes as he watched her fly. It was breathtaking. She was, hands down, the best Chaser in their team and probably the reason they were leading 80-20.
Nothing could make Gryffindor lose now, he thought.
Just as he said it, a bludger that came from Jonah Corner, hit Rose squarely on ribs, causing her to drop the quaffle, fall of her broom and tumble lifelessly through the air.
He stood up of the bench, eyes widening with terror. He helplessly reached out his arms, as if he could catch her. That bludger had caused some serious damage; a concussion, broken limbs, internal bleeding and a few cracked ribs.
Later that day, when visitors were allowed into the Hospital Wing, he waited outside for when all her cousins came out. He wanted a time alone with her, even if she was unconscious.
When her family went back to their dormitories, he snuck in and looked at where Madame Pomfrey was snoozing in her office. He quickly cast a 'Muffliato' on her and walked to the occupied bed.
He glanced down at her and assessed the damages caused by the bludger. It looked as if a train hit her. But Madame Pomfrey had already used the Skele-Gro so at least her bones were healing.
He sat down by her head and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears. He smiled at her tranquil state. For the first time in 6 years, he felt whole. He felt like he belonged here, right by her side.
He almost despised tomorrow when things would go back to normal and he would have to pretend he didn't care for her one bit. If only he could have this moment forever. He knew he would. In his heart.
Now he knew why he ended it with Melanie, she wasn't Rose. It wasn't because of the lack of time, but the lack of feelings.
She wasn't able to make his heart flutter like Rose was doing now.
She wasn't able to put a smile on his lips like Rose was doing now.
She wasn't able to make him HAPPY like Rose was doing now.
He knew this moment was going to be short-lived but he couldn't find it in himself to let go of her hand.
When he felt that the charm he cast on Madame Pomfrey was slowly starting to weaken, he let go of her hand and stood up.
Only when he was sure she was still unconscious, he slowly leaned in to kiss her forehead before muttering 'I love you' and then walking away.
Seventh Year
He was right when he said that it was going to go back to the way things were. After the Hospital Wing, Rose fully recovered within a week without any memory of what he did or said to her.
He should be relieved, but he wasn't. Instead this feeling of disappointment washed all over him.
It doesn't matter anyway, it was going to be over soon. He was leaving Hogwarts next week and had his life planned out ahead of him. Even if he was going to feel like the Cruciatus Curse because this is the last time he'll ever see Rose again.
The last time he'll ever hear her laugh.
The last time he'll ever see her smile.
The last time he'll ever see her fly.
He felt like he failed himself, failed life. He didn't have enough courage to go after his one true love.
I guess I wasn't put into Gryffindor for a reason, he thought bitterly.
Now, for the next year, he was going to be an intern at St Mungo before pursuing his dream of becoming a Healer. Then he'd probably be forced into an arranged marriage with some high-class pureblood.
He just hoped he could find a fraction of happiness with her compared to that night in the Hospital Wing.
As for Rose, she was going to European Ministry for two years to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before returning back to England to be the Chief Warlock in the Wizengamot.
He felt like nothing had changed since the first time he stood on Platform 9 ¾ but then again, everything had changed.
He was still that little boy on the train who watched the pretty redheaded Weasley girl live her life without him. Just a grown up version though.
As he stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time he saw a bunch of redheads all crowding around Rose, saying goodbye before she went off to Europe.
Suddenly, almost as if sensing something watching her, she turned around and locked his gaze. Grey eyes met blue ones. They looked at each other, conveying their words with their eyes.
We had a good run but this is it, they said, I should've done it better. I should've been stronger. I was too proud to admit that I loved you. Maybe in another life.
He stood there on the platform. Watching her from the sidelines, but never taking part.
He was alone. All alone.