Lying on her bed, half awake, staring at the ceiling, Ginevra Weasley was lost in her own thoughts yet again.
He was taking over. So many things within her now were him. He had been a part of her for a year; he had been part of her literally more often than she would like to recall. She tried so hard not to think of him, but when it comes down to it, you can't decide what you dream and she couldn't stop dreaming. Every time she closed her eyes he was there.
The problem was that she didn't want to forget him. She knew she should, should want to that is, but she just couldn't bring herself to let him go. She was sure that he wouldn't remember her, the part of him that was left in the world, but she would never forget the sixteen year old version she had allowed so close.
She had tried not to fall in love with him, she really had. She was only eleven, after all, and he was sixteen. Well, he would have been sixteen if he had been corporeal. What separated them was even worse than age. He was stuck in a diary. He couldn't hold her, she couldn't see him, and she tried so hard not to fall in love with him. But she had.
He was there for her when no one else was, when everyone else was ignoring her, was turning away from her, was leaving her alone. He had even known when things changed, when she had fallen in love with him and tried to hide it, tried to deny it, tried to ignore the pain. He had known and he had understood, he had comforted her. That was when she had known that he loved her as well.
The longer things had gone on, when she had realized that he was dangerous and had gotten scared and tried to get rid of the diary, he had forgiven her; he had taken her back.
Fuck!
She sat up and buried her face in her hands.
She knew he was evil. She knew he had tried to kill her. She knew what he was and what he would become. How stupid was she? How insane is it to be in love the one you most hate? How foolish was it to fall in love with the deadliest man to live? Hell, was her mind even her own anymore?
She couldn't help it. She loved him. She believed in him. He couldn't be everything she knew he was, everything the world said he was. She started to cry.
When the tears finally stopped she got up and started getting dressed. She honestly felt that she would be willing to give up everything just to find him again. She needed him. She needed to be with him. He was her life, literally. She needed him to breathe.
She stood before the mirror and stared at her reflection. The deeper she looked the more clearly she could see him. So many things in her were him. He was taking over.
She went down to breakfast and never noticed a pair of silver eyes watching her.