Oh - Harry, Harry, Harry. Could I write a thousand sonnets about those eyes? Probably, and I'm not even good at poetry. It's just that your eyes are so pretty, I shouldn't say that but they are! The green is like glassy grass I could roll around in, would if I could. See? I shouldn't even attempt poetry.
Ah, you'll never notice me no matter how I stare! I do stare, rather a lot lately. I can't help noticing your skin, milky white and I'm sure it's silky. I'd like to kiss every inch of it, and I do mean every inch.
Yeah, I think about you. I think about you at night. You know. I wonder who you think about, Cho Chang most likely, I've caught you leering. It would kill me to see you with her, kill me and you wouldn't even know! Are you asking her to the Yule Ball? Will I see you there? I know I will.
You're so great at Quidditch, Harry. Watching you swoop and glide, it's lovely, I'll never be that. I'd good, yes. It's different, no? I'll never have that grace, you're a dancer in the air. Beautiful, beautiful.
Maybe you'll go to the ball with Fluer, your eyes sure glaze up when you talk to her.
I probably glaze up when I talk to you as well. I haven't spoken to you much, I fear I am not capable of such a feat. I probably try to hard when I do speak, foolish me.
Foolish me, foolish you! You don't even see me! Oh, why should I care? It's not that this is love, I've had... crushes before. Such lust, infatuation, no reason for me to feel this way, like my life is on fire, and I'm watching it burn away.
It's Hermione, you're asking her to the ball! I never see you without her, especially lately. Oh, I can't let that happen!
What will happen, surely us will never happen. I'm not used to this, not being wanted.
Моя влюбленность, Harry Potter.
Can't you see I am Viktor Krum?