Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling.
I am perfect. I know what you're all thinking: what kind of girl thinks of herself as the picture of perfection? You're wondering why on earth I would say such a thing, and you assume that I am horribly conceited. Don't worry, I agree. I am conceited. Always have been, always will be. I guess that's why it took so long for me to realize that my boyfriend was meant for another girl.
But even so, I'm still perfect. So what if Ron never loved me back? That's his problem, not mine. He was a coward all the time we dated. If he had been a real man, he would have had the guts to break up with me. He would have dared to look me in the eye and tell me that he was in love with his best friend, Hermione Granger. I have never minded her, actually, and I still don't. I know they all think I do, though, but truth to be told, it's Ron who bothers me.
The ginger-haired Ron Weasley… That's what they all know him as. Harry Potter's best friend, the redhead and slightly poor bloke in Gryffindor who once dated Lavender Brown. That's me, by the way. And I have to admit that until sixth year started, I saw him as nothing more than Harry's best friend as well. It wasn't like I fancied Harry or anything, like my friend Parvati, but I did admire the messy-haired hero, like she used to call him. Back then, Ron was nothing special. But then sixth year started, the year you-know-who was officially back (though Ron, Hermione and Harry claimed he had been back for almost a year without anyone knowing it). And all of a sudden, I started thinking of Ronald Weasley as more than a friend.
I'm not sure how it all started. I wasn't myself when I was around him: I must have been blushing and giggling like a madwoman. That didn't seem to scare him away, though, and before I knew it we were snogging. A lot.
I will never forget our first kiss, after the Quidditch match where Ron had played absolutely brilliant. He always did when he wasn't too nervous, though. He had been absolutely thrilled at that party, and I knew that if I wanted him, this was my chance to tell him. So I did, and somehow he kissed me. He wasn't an excellent kisser, at least not in the beginning, but it was amazing non-less. I put my soul into that kiss. I still don't know whether he noticed.
Deep inside me I knew that we weren't meant for each other, though I refused to realize it. I wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him, but if I'd been smart enough to listen to logical sense, I would have seen the looks he sent Hermione. It was obvious to everyone how they felt for each other. They fought because of me, of course, but instead of feeling bad as I normally would have, I was smug about it. I was glad that Ron had chosen me over her, as any normal boy would have. You see, I'm perfect, and therefore I'm also very pretty. Hermione Granger isn't. Ok, she doesn't look too bad when she dresses up, but her bushy, brown hair will never be flattering on her. My hair is brown too, though personally, I think its light brown colour is way prettier, and there is no denying that the soft curls it falls in are beautiful. But apparently, Ron doesn't agree with me. The two of them started going out at the end of seventh year.
Ron never dared to break up with me. Instead, I was the one who broke up with him, after him and yes, you guessed it, Hermione had spent an extremely long time in the boy's dormitories alone. I could only guess what they had been doing up there, though it still hurts to think about it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm over him now. Really, I am. How could I still be in love with a guy who treated me that way? He never appreciated me, and now, many years later, I have realized that he was using me. I don't think he thought of it that way, but there is no better way to describe it. He wanted someone to snog, and I wanted him.
You're probably wondering why I'm ranting on about a guy I broke up with so many years ago. It was just another teen romance, wasn't it? But even though it was, he was the first boy I fell in love with. He was the first boy I would willingly give myself to. No matter how much I wish otherwise, it's true. I can't escape the past.
I look down at the wedding invitation once again.
Ron and Hermione's wedding.
I guess I have known for a long time that this day had to come, sooner or later. No one can be as happy as them and not getting married. I have to admit that I'm surprised they decided to invite me, because even though we greet each other politely every time we meet, I doubt they like me any more than I like them. It's still nice, though.
Perhaps I'll meet the love of my life there as well. And no, I'm not thinking of the groom. There is always a chance I'll meet a mysterious stranger and fall in love with him, right? And then he'll fall in love with me as well. He won't use me.
I am perfect, after all.
A/N: Please review:D