It had been a long day; a long day I'd rather forget.
Days before, I heard of his detention and the rather disturbing reason behind it. Not Harry, I thought, At least not intentionally.
Although it was a bit extreme, I cannot help but feel that Malfoy deserved such an injury for all the grief he gave Harry.
Still, I looked forward to playing Harry for the Quidditch Cup. It was a chance to be in close contact with him after months of him barely looking at me, or rather him barely acknowledging my existence. Sure, the thing between us had turned sour, but we were together even if it was for just a little while, and I believed that it should still have merited for something. If there was hope for starting over, that something was a good place to start and rekindle our relationship. A bit of a hopeless situation, I sometimes felt, but the thought of him and me even accidentally coming in contact, even if we were to just reach for the snitch at the same time with hands brushing, may invoke the feelings he had for me. These feelings I was hoping might resurface, along with his realization that me and him belong together; never mind the fact that every time I see him and try to catch his eye, I find him staring at another girl. A girl, I learned eventually, that I was to compete against to catch the snitch in his absence.
I felt confident. I, after all, have been doing this for some years now, and she just started last year. Merlin's beard, was I ever so wrong.
She came into the pitch with such a determined look, so blazing, that I had to steel myself against her gaze. Although it was not unfriendly, there was cold determination, even defiance in her eyes. This was the girl, who like me, has long harboured feelings for him. Everyone knew, heck even I knew, except apparently for Harry himself, or at least he did not understand the girl's level of devotion. I cannot help but think that she felt that the match was some final face-off that she had to undertake before she can finally have him. I was determined not to lose.
But sometimes, the thing that you want most slips through your fingers. Just when you think that you have it in your hands, it escapes you; like holding onto water, or catching a ray of light, or a snitch that you thought you firmly held on, or a boy...
Everyone left ahead of me. I stayed in the changing quarters for a while. While others left the pitch in groups, either celebrating a win or lamenting a loss, I chose to be alone.
Alone with my thoughts.
Alone with my emotions.
Alone with a sad helplessness from a feeling of dread.
I knew I have lost.
I lost, not just the match, but the chance to be with the one who could have been the love of my life.
I never did find out how long I stayed in the changing quarters, but by the time I came back to the castle for dinner, the great hall was abuzz. Unsurprisingly, the Gryffindor table was devoid of students, they most certainly were in their common room celebrating their victory. Still, their absence seemed not to halt the talks about what happened during the match. But most of the talks were particularly about two players: one who was sidelined and one who took his place for the game.
Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley.
Together at last.
Or so as the gossips said.
I told myself that I will not lose myself in my misery until I have confirmed it myself; not until I saw them together will I believe.
The food in front of me remained untouched.
What the bloody hell was I still doing sitting there? I was not even in the mood for food.
I stood up and headed for the dormitories.
As I started for the staircase, I noticed a couple, with their backs to me, on their way up the stairs.
He had untidy black hair, hers were a flaming red. Holding hands. Unmistakable.
I stopped in my tracks. I waited for them to go to the opposite direction from where I was going to go, obviously heading back to the Gryffindor tower, probably from a walk on the grounds.
I stood there for some time. When I heard people moving out of the Great Hall and headed back to their dormitories, I walked as fast as I can towards the Ravenclaw tower. Hastily answering the knocker's riddle, I hurried towards my dormitory, avoiding the encouraging and comforting smiles of the other Ravenclaws. They still think I was distraught because we lost the game. Unlike them, I lost something more.
As I entered my room and pulled the hangings to shield myself from the others, though there was no need since they were either still in the Great Hall or the common room or somewhere in the castle, I finally let go.
I cried.
I cried like the night I lost Cedric.
I cried because I lost the match; I cried because I lost another boy that I loved.
And it was all my fault, because I pushed him away.
Because we were both too young to understand.
Or maybe because we were never meant to be.
A poignant realization that I thought of until I can cry no more.
All the same, I cannot help but wish that I did not finally understand, that I will never remember so that this would have been easier. Ignorance, after all, is bliss.....
It had been a long day; a long day I'd rather forget.