He was undeniably the most attractive guy at Hogwarts. I burned a bright crimson every time I passed him in the corridor. When he spoke I would mechanically bite my lip and flatten my hair nervously.

In the four years I've known him for; he has engaged me in conversation twice. I remember both times vividly, although I try not to. When I think about it, my usual pallor cheeks burn and I get the sudden urge to hit myself. Whatever happened to playing it cool?

I constantly had the urge to hit myself these days. I had changed so much over the past four years and I missed myself. I missed my care free attitude; I missed my lack of concern over trivial things. I blamed him of course, it was nice to be able to blame someone and falling in love with him changed me – so therefore I could blame him, right?

After our first encounter with words, I replayed the scene over and over in my head for weeks. I over analysed it and exhausted all possible meanings. Yeah – he'd also turned me into a paranoid freak.

I was walking down to Herbology and he was going in the same direction, so he casually fell into step beside me. I prayed he hadn't noticed my eyes widen and my cheeks flush. My legs quivered and I was sure I would trip over; it would be typical, right? I tried my best to play it cool, but, I don't do cool. Not anymore.

I wasn't sure why he was walking towards Herbology – it wasn't the usual location he ventured towards. I might've memorised his timetable off by heart and he definitely shouldn't be walking this way. If my memory serves me correctly he had a free lesson. Yeah, I wasn't just paranoid; I was also a stalker too.

"Horrible weather," he mused. I lifted my eyes from the ground and peeked up at him from behind my hair. Reply, you idiot, I scolded myself.

The seconds ticked by and still I hadn't said anything. I nodded meekly and my eyes returned to staring intently at my black ankle boots. I couldn't bear his raised eye brows and questioning gaze. I'd blown it, already. He probably thought I was a complete idiot. We'd nearly reached our destination; I racked my brain for something intelligent to say. I wanted to sound strong, powerful and perhaps sexy. How do you sound sexy though – is that even possible – for me, I guess not.

"I heard you named your broomstick Cassandra," oh hell. Please, let me die right here, right now. I heard myself saying it in my head moments before it came out. There I was, imagining sounding sexy and sophisticated; instead I blurted it out in what resembled the squeak of a petrified mouse. I cringed. I wasn't even supposed to know about that either, I'd overheard him telling Professor McGonagall.

"Yeah," he said with a grin, "she's a Nimbus 1500." That was impressive; they'd only been out a few months – they were really expensive. He seemed enthused by my mention of brooms. I sighed in relief; I'd successfully managed to erase my earlier foolishness.

I smiled nervously at him, "why Cassandra?"

He shrugged "I don't know, it seemed fitting at the time, you know? The first time I flew her, I knew. She was definitely a Cassandra."

I was doing okay, so far. I was desperate to get to Herbology though. I didn't think I could take much more of this. Don't get me wrong, I relished spending time with him, but it made me so nervous all I wanted to do was run away.

He was walking so close to me and it was unbearable. My white Hogwarts blouse had started to stick to my back, making me squirm uncomfortably. It was two weeks until Christmas and a thick layer of snow covered the grounds. It meant we all had to bundle on the extra layers. Besides my white blouse and Hogwarts tie, I had a black v-neck jumper on over the top along with the standard Hogwarts robe and house scarf. I'd felt silly when I put on a black pleated skirt that sat just above the knee with black tights and my pointy ankle boots. Now though, it was a relief. My body felt as though it would burst into flames at any moment. I wanted to be naked. My insides were burning their way out.

I tucked the left side of my hair behind my ear in order to get a better look at him. He was beautiful. There was just no denying it. Shivers reverberated through my body as I greedily looked him over, absorbing his truffle coloured eyes, his ivory skin and his dark brown hair that hovered just above his shoulders. I noted the extraordinary rate at which it grew, I think he had it cut at least once a week.

"What the -?"