I hate to start off in such a cliché way, but what can I say? I'm a Harry Potter girl at heart.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, there would still be two Weasley twins.
She turned when she heard the portrait open.
Harry looked just the way he always had to her eyes. Beautiful.
Before she even knew what she was doing, she was running towards him. They had won. They had WON! Even without their star Seeker.
And so she went to hug him, to be congratulated, to see him look past her as he had done so many times before. She knew he didn't like her. She knew that. But she went anyway.
And she barely had time to be surprised when he caught her up in his arms.
But then, for a million moments and hardly long enough, he kissed her.
Wait, WHAT? He kissed her? She knew he didn't like her, she knew he didn't. She'd told herself that so many times. And yet, she wanted it to be true. She wanted to believe that Harry Potter was kissing her. Wanted it so badly that it hurt.
When he finally broke away, there was silence for a moment. The type of silence that made her think she might be finally waking up. But she didn't look away from Harry. If she did, he'd disappear. And then Fred wolf-whistled and people started clapping. It couldn't be a dream. So she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. He was still there, Dean was still holding a broken glass, several girls still looked like they wanted to kill her.
And when Harry took her hand and gestured out of the portrait hole, she realized that she'd been lying to herself. He did like her, and it wasn't a dream. Just the first kiss of many.