Disclaimer: I wish, you wish, we all wish… to no avail. Genie says that he can't take Harry Potter from JKR either.

A/N: So, this is a little thing I thought up while at school. Just a short, little one-shot. Doesn't really go into details or anything… you know how those plot bunnies are! Anyways, enjoy! And tell me if you like!

Of course I don't love her. The prospect is ridiculous.

I just… I just can't get her out of my mind. I find myself drawn to her intelligence, which no one – not even Professor Snape, despite how much he tries – can deny that she has.

The mysterious way her mind works intrigues me beyond the mystifying curriculum in my classes. She is a tangled web of thought that I don't think I'll ever unravel.

I am constantly in awe of the way her eyes shine when she thinks of something extraordinary and the way her smile that never fails to bright up her face when someone praises her.

I delight in watching the way her hands twist themselves into knots as she waits for her perfect potion to show its perfection, the way she bites her lower lip and nails as she struggles with her Arithmancy charts, the way she twirls her untamable mess of hair around her thin fingers when she gets bored in Charms after completing the assignment early.

I marvel at the way she steadily takes the notes in History of Magic that no one else ever bothers with, the way she manages to lightly walk through the halls with that dreadfully heavy bag of books on her shoulder, the way she concentrates so heavily on reading the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet when her fellow classmates are practically asleep in their breakfast plates,.

I can't but notice the way the rays from the setting sun hit her glowing face as she and her friends enjoy the evening's setting sun, the way the moonlight hits her curly hair as she stares out onto the grounds covered in pure snow, the way she gazes up into the stars at night while atop the Astronomy tower.

I laugh to myself at the way she devotedly rushes to her sanctioned library to complete essays due weeks after she finishes them, the way her fingertips brush the dusty volumes of the novels as she searches their titles, the way her hand flits so anxiously in the air as her mouth itches to give the answer she knows like the back of her hand.

I smile at the way she looks so amazingly delicate when she lays her head down on her pile of work on the library table for a few seconds of much-needed rest, the way her eyes shine with excitement at the prospect of a new theory she had discovered.

I envy the way she playfully teases her two friends as they walk the corridors, the way she looks at Weasley when he does something atrocious.

I need the way she awakens such emotions within me, the way her presence in the room lifts my heavy heart, the way her smile casts the painful memories of my life through the window, the way her laughter seems to light up the eternal darkness I feel inside.

No, of course I don't love her. The prospect is ridiculous.

I just… I just can't get her out of my mind.