Author's Note: This is a rather tediously soppy fic, so if you don't like it you'll know you're not the only one! I actually, come to think of it know, cringed so much when I read it through! I absolutely can't stand it, I can't believ I've talked myself into putting it on FanFiction. Ah well. Oh yes and apologies that it's all in italics.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Ginny Weasley.
Because of You
Dearest Harry-
No. Too… lovey-dovey. Bin that.
To Harry. There are some things I would like to tell you, and will do in the enclosed letter-
No. Way too formal.
So. Harry. How are you doing? I'm fine.
Nah. It's all wrong. Clumsy. Try again.
Hey Harry. Listen, I don't know how to say this… but… well, I like you. A lot. I know you know I liked you you before but this isn't just a teenage crush any more. I know it sounds mad and you'll probably reject me, but… I love you. Really I do. And I've been battling with this love for ages. There has been a lot of times when I nearly told you, but I never did. So I am now. And I hope that if you don't feel the same way about me, you'll be happy with somebody else. If you're happy then so am I. But I want you to know that I dream of you, of your green eyes, your raven-black hair, your smile, every night. Gentle memories, but all of them: the good, the bad and the ugly. I cherish these dreams and memories.
I know that sounds lovey-dovey, sickly, sugary, whatever synonym you can find that means the same thing—but you know what? I don't care. I'm past caring. And what stopped me from telling you before was caring too much. You're the only thing I care about at the moment, and if you reject me I'll probably stay that way. But although I do want to be with you I don't want you to come to me for the sake of it. I want it to be meaningful, not false.
It's your choice. Take it or leave it. I'm not going to force you into anything, nor reject you. I love you. Now it's time for you to decide whether you want that love or not. Whether you want it to be ours, or mine. I just hope you make the right decision.
I'm fed up of waiting; I need to know. I mean, I'm 19 and you're 20. I've like you since I was 10. You do the maths.
I've decided to write this letter today because I need to know, before you become too famous and forget about me and you start to travel all over the world. It's horrible when it's like that. Not for you, the Quidditch star, but for those waiting for the stars.
Please don't destroy this letter. It's my only life-line, my only will to live—just in case you come and visit me, love me back, marry me, all that corny things. But you know, the reality is that you probably will. It's a whole load of soppy crud. Soppy, true, crud.
I just hope you make the right choice.
Yours,
Ginny.