I'm standing at the top of the astronomy tower, leaning against the window, looking down across the grounds. I've always loved to come here to be alone, to think. My thoughts usually wander to you. The simple things I've noticed about you in class - How you twirl your quill between your fingers when you're taking a test. How you run your thumb across your wand when you get nervous in Transfiguration. How your eyes wander in class when Professor Binns is lecturing. How you try to be so inconspicuous when you and Weasley pass notes. How you desperately look to Hermione when Professor Snape asks you a question that you don't know the answer to.
I hear your voice below. My head shoots out of the window, gazing down at the grounds. You're with Hermione - Of course. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the perfect couple. Smart, save-the-world types. After all, who had saved the Sorcerer's Stone from Voldemort? Harry Potter and his sidekicks. Who had solved the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets? Harry Potter and his sidekicks. It was ridiculous how you always seemed to save the school, the entire wizarding world. It was just pure luck. It had to be. No one could be that incredible.
But if anyone could be, it would be you.
You and Hermione are twirling around in the grass now, laughing together. She's shushing you, I can tell. It's after hours, if you two got caught, you'd get in trouble…More than likely detention. Small droplets of rain begin to fall. Hermione twirls around and lands in your arms. The arms that I've always imagined wrapped around me. Your lips graze her forehead, and she puts a hand on your neck, forcing you to kiss her lips. I look away now, too saddened by the scene to continue watching.
I think of my father, and how he would disapprove. Not only was his son in love with another man, but it was Harry Potter. Harry Potter, who was friends with the rotten Weasleys and was dating that horrible Mudblood Hermione Granger. I wish I had someone I could talk to. My mother…My father…Anyone, really. Crabbe and Goyle aren't friends. They follow me because they admire me. They admire my strength. If they could see me now…They would know exactly how weak I am.
I've fallen under your spell. I now see what everyone else sees in those green eyes, in that adorably messy black hair. I try to be strong, I try to pull myself out of this mess I've gotten into…But I can't. You have a magnetic quality about you, pulling everyone in. Everyone loves you. Everyone wants to be your friend. Everyone wants to be you.
I look out the window once more before storming away to my Slytherin dormitory. Why bother torturing myself by watching you? I torture myself by thinking of you…And you never leave my head.