Wow, I'm finally done! I wrote this in one go, so it's not really the way I wanted it to be... And Harry is a year older hear than he is in the books... Or, if you like it better that way, Angelina is a year younger.
Written for The Back to School Challenge by ObsessedHPFanatic in the HPFC forum.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. :(
We'd had a pretty rocky relationship, Harry and I. Though not at the start.
The reason we started dating was simple; Harry was tired of the fangirls (who constantly tried to slip some love potion into his food), and it made sense for us. Our looks kind of matched each others', we both played Quidditch, and the relationship was good for both of us. He was dating an older girl, and I The Boy Who Lived. It was easy, I was content.
The problem was - as mentioned before - Harry's fangirls. Those who loved to be in the spotlight. Those who tried to make him notice them every single day. Those who threw dirty looks at whichever girl who was lucky enough to walk by his side as a girlfriend. But they were never a problem, not to me. I was a Quidditch player, after all, and they didn't want to harm one of those. They didn't want to be on our bad side either, we were too important. Therefore, Harry and I were left alone.
On our first date, Harry had awkwardly steered his steps towards Madame Puddifoot's. Luckily, I realized where he was going before it was too late, and told him that I'd much rather go to Three Broomsticks. He muttered something about 'Cho', so I blamed her for his lousy taste in dating places (though he did seem relieved that we skipped Puddifoot's).
On the rest of the date we talked, joked, and had an overall nice time. We didn't really end the date, but continued to be together after we were back at school. Then Harry kissed my cheek before going to sleep, and I smiled. It was all good.
Our relationship continued easily. He was a gentleman – well, most of the time – and I enjoyed being the perfect girlfriend. It wasn't even all about our appearances; we were actually content with it, and everything felt natural. The way he greeted me before going to breakfast, the way I was always the first one he grinned at across the Quidditch field whenever something amusing happened, the way he softly kissed me goodnight every evening … It was like a perfect picture in … say, a snow globe.
The thing is, no one's ever wanted look at a snow globe forever. It becomes boring, and so did we, at least to everyone else. After half a year, our relationship wasn't exciting anymore, and Harry's fangirls started to glare at me. Our friends didn't see the point anymore, and people just 'forgot' that we were together … but our picture perfect relationship remained untouchable. At least for a while, until that unexpected thing happened. I started to grow feelings for him.
At first, it was just some weird feelings in my stomach, and a sudden urge to blush whenever he was around. It was easily avoided, since I was not that kind of girl, and so he didn't suspect a thing.
But soon, my skin burned where he touched me. His green, green eyes made me fall off my broom. I constantly ran my fingers through his messy, black hair, and when he looked at another girl, it started to affect me. I had to remind myself that he was mine – but it didn't help, since I knew nothing about his feelings. He could dump me any minute.
Then, what should a good girl do? I didn't know, and I didn't care. My own way of fixing it was to pull him into a broom closet, push him up against the wall, and press my lips firmly against his. Then, in the heat of the moment, I whispered those three, simple words; "I love you". And, to my utter surprise, he said that he loved me too.
From that moment, we were inseparable. We were suddenly interesting again, but this time the fangirls hated me with passion. The affection in his eyes when he looked at me spoke for itself, and my constantly goofy smiles basically yelled out to the world; "I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love!" I was euphoric most of the time, and I think he was as well.
A month after said event, we did it. In the Room of Requirement.
My arms had been tightly wrapped around his neck, and his were sliding down my waist. In the midst of hungry kisses, the bed had appeared, and we were – of course – polite enough to use it.
Surrounded by heat, I breathed heavily and ran my hands through his lovely hair. My lips left his to travel down his neck, and Harry rolled over so that he was on top of me. He started to pull up my robes, and stopped for a moment to look into my eyes.
"Are you sure?" he'd whispered, doubting for a moment that I was as desperate as him, or just trying to protect me. I'd nodded, and … well, it's not that hard to figure out what happened next.
The day after, however, we'd found pictures. Pictures of me clutching onto him while going into the room. Nothing of what happened inside, but plenty of what had happened before we went there. The pictures weren't very innocent.
That was the start of the problems in our relationship. The snow globe was gone, and with the strong emotions of love, came the cracks; the jealousy, the fear, the fights. The fights for us to remain together. Something we succeeded with for quite a long time, considering the huge amount of press we were under. But then I couldn't take it.
It was now the start of my seventh year, and Harry's fifth (A/N I made Harry one year older than he really is, if that's ok?). The feast was over (during which I'd avoided Harry) and we were heading for the common room. As we entered, someone grabbed my hand out of nowhere. It was Harry.
"Hi", he said with a smile, and I sighed. I didn't want to do this.
"Hi, Harry, we need to talk…" my voice came out as a whisper, my words made him frown. As we waited for the others to leave, I reluctantly forced his hand off of mine. Then I sat down on the sofa, and he next to me.
"What is it?" he asked, "has something happened?"
"Well… During the summer, I've been thinking…" I bit my lip. "About our relationship. I-I don't think it's working."
While saying this, I refused to meet his eyes. I stared down at the floor, waiting for him to react.
"What? But … we were just going to make it work-"
"I know, but I can't take it. We always have to fight for this, and your fangirls are just evil! My friends leave me because of them, I can't concentrate in school, and not even my parents like this. I have no one right now, and that's… I'm not strong enough for that." I finally looked him in the eyes, and the hurt there made me flinch. It made my own hurt duplicate and I immediately looked down again.
"You have me, Angelina, I love you…" Harry sighed, and I tried to wipe away an escaped tear.
"I need friends too…" That's what I thought, at least. I almost doubted it. "Maybe, when all of this is over, when we're out of school… Maybe we can fix it then…" I whispered with a faint hope. As I said the last word, Harry stood up. I didn't dare look at him.
"Maybe", he said, but I could hear that he didn't believe it. He probably didn't understand my reasoning. "Goodbye, Angelina."
That's it, feel free to review! :D
I know that boys are often more immature than girls (about two years, I've heard :3), but when you look at Harry's past, I think that it's quite logical for him to be pretty mature. If you wondered about why he seems older than he is, that's my excuse. xD