She was gorgeous, I really couldn't deny it. Long silky black hair, large dark eyes, smooth skin, a pretty smile. She wasn't mine.
I knew I'd never get over her and she had never been mine, not ever. I could pretend to adore Ron Weasley all I wanted and it was surprisingly easy, he was rather good-looking - for a boy, that is - but, when we kissed, I couldn't help but wish it was her.
I can't remember when I first became attracted to her. I always knew she was lovely, ever since we first met, but back then it was in an 'Oh, I wish I had hair like yours! Mine is all mousy!' sort of way. Not 'I love you more than anyone and I'm so so scared'. Not like it is now.
And, secretly, I'm rather glad Ron broke-up with me. Hurt, of course, that he doesn't like me, doesn't think I'm good enough, but relieved too. No more acting like I love him more than anything else just to stop people noticing how I look at her, no more not being able to study with her because Ron wants us to snog our faces off.
He's such a brutal kisser, all physical. It's not that I mind a bit of passion - quite the contrary - but I wish a bit more feeling had gone into our kisses. I bet her lips would be much softer.
So here I am, lying awake, curtains drawn around my bed, listening as her soft breath fills the room. She's lying in the next bed over and I can't help but wish that she was right here, next to me.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, my hands entwined in her thick dark hair, her lips upon mine...
And I remember what she had said to me when it was finally confirmed that You-Know-Who was back and we were all so terrified for each other and didn't know who to trust.
"We'll be best friends forever. That'll never change."