A/N: Okay. Let's get this straight. We know that Harry and Ginny still love each other. And, although this might seem a little short (you're right about that) and depressing, it's not one of those one chapters full of bitter and unrequited love.
This is...what you call, The Beginning.
Ginny's POV
I loved him.
How could I not-when he was the one boy who I couldn't find fault with? He was perfect. From his unressistable good looks to his kindness. I'd grown up thinking that all boys were slobs (it's hard not to, with Ron in the family.) Hey, but Harry was different. He was a crush.
A crush.
I was stupid. I'd tell myself that he felt the same. Or, that he would eventually.
Eventually.
It's been six years. Six, dull, gloomy years. I still haven't lost faith in him? How can I? We've gone out. One term, full of bliss and happiness.
I didn't need to kid myself then. It was real. He liked me. He loved me. I loved him.
I still do.
I'm not going to sit back and moan about what we could of had. Because it's still there.
Because, even if he does decide that he doesn't love me, it will never be over.
Because, somewhere, someplace in my heart, there's still a flicker-a flicker of hope.
And I won't ever let that flicker go out.
A/N: Cheesy. Rubbish. I know. Hey, I was never much of a writer.