Authors Notes: Hey, I haven't gotten this beta-ed but the idea came to me at 4am last night when I was just fooling around on my computer. So I appologize for any mistakes you notice.
Memoirs of a Weasley
My love for Harry Potter began when I was eleven years old. It was when I first saw him at the train station. I'd seen him on the train when we went to drop my brothers off for Ron's first year. He was kind of a loner, but he looked open to friendship when he asked my mum how to get to the platform. Most people expect me to say it was his eyes that got me first but really, it was his hair. I've never seen hair so black in my life. It sticks out all over the place and it just looked so cool, so...fresh. I remember thinking how he got it to do that. I remember wanting to ask him if I could touch it. Then, Ron had come home from Hogwarts, gloating about this and that and talking about his best friend Harry. I was intrigued. His letters were the same. Harry this and Harry that. Harry was a hero in my heart.
And then! Oh! He came to spend the rest of his summer at our house! I couldn't believe it! Harry Potter! Staying at my home! Of course, I had to write about it in that stupid diary Lucius Malfoy gave me. Shouldn't have been so stupid, but I was excited. First year at Hogwarts and Harry Potter staying at our house! It was as if Christmas had come early. And being ever the gentleman, he risked his life, his own life to save me in that chamber, just because I was his friends sister who had a crush on him. Most boys would have spared me but not Harry. Of course, after that, I could never look at him the same again. Because if it hadn't been for the great Harry Potter, I wouldn't be telling you all this right now.
By second year, I realized that Harry Potter was out of my league. Hermione had once told me he fancied Cho Chang and I think they snogged once after a DA meeting. It bothered me but I grew up, and I realized, there were more boys out there than I imagined. Neville had been sweet. He knew I wanted to go to the Yule Ball and couldn't because I was a third year. He had asked me, partially because he knew I wouldn't say no and partially because Hermione already had said no. It wasn't anything like a date, but it was still good fun. And he was very sweet. Did I say that already?
Of course there was Michael. Michael and me just clicked. It was both of our first relationship and I didn't want to make a big deal about it. But then I found that tart kissing another tart. I still wonder if he ever knew what curse I threw at him...
Dean was probably the hardest one to keep secret. He was friends with Ron and well, he was in the same house as him and the same year. But somehow, Ron didn't seem to care too much. He just sort of, made his annoying stupid comments when he saw us but that I could handle. Lucky for me, Fred and George just tease as well but at least their teases were by letter.
But Harry's reaction was different. I could see how red he had gotten after him and Ron caught me and Dean snogging behind that tapestry. And the way he looked at me from then on, as if I was walking around with something embarrasing written on my forehead. And so, when he got back that night, we just snogged. It was one of the best things I've ever experienced. I still remember feeling all light and warm. His touches from his callused hands couldn't have been more gentle. And I knew if anything, Harry would always be there for me. He wasn't the kind of boy to leave you because he lost interest. He only had a few people who he really cared about around him and he counted me among those few. I should have seen it coming, especially after the basilisk incident of first year. Or just the casual, lazy days of the summer he spent with us. No that's just wishful thinking. We hadn't had any previous experiences to foreshadow our short relationship in my fifth and his sixth year.
I put up with the teasing of Fred and George. It wasn't hard, they just poked fun at everything. Ron was different. He told me not to take it personally if Harry hurt me by accident. He had a lot going on and things he did just happened, not on purpose. But he did say if Harry did hurt me, he'd kill him. That was a nice thought. My brother killing his best friend for me. Excellent. But I didn't need anyone to tell me about Harry, we were in love. I remember him putting of his own studies to help me prepare for OWLs.
Of course the hardest was coming. I knew he'd be breaking it off, but for unselfish reasons. He wanted to save me, to protect me. He told me he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to me. Harry's like that. Always blaming destruction he didn't cause on himself. It's in his nature. But it still hurt the most of any breakup I had ever experienced. Watching him during the summer of Bill and Fleur's wedding always sent a dull ache to my heart. What if he died and I didn't know? What if he realized, on his mission of Dumbledore's or whatever, that he really didn't love me. Maybe he'd find another witch. Someone better than me. Someone prettier than me. But it was stupid. Everyone's lives were at stake here. But I couldn't think of that. All I could think about was Harry and me.
And of course, me being the hormonal teenager that I was, wished him a Happy Birthday by snogging him in my bedroom. What would have happened if Ron hadn't come in? Would I have submitted myself to him? Probably. I loved him. I wanted him to know. I wanted him to remember that I was still there for him if he needed me. And then he left, just like that. Nothing left to tell me where he'd gone or when he'd be back.
He had survived. He had saved us all. He was the Saviour. He was my saviour. I don't know what I would have done had he not made it out of that bloody battle alive. I would have walked straight into Bellatrix's killing curse, with open arms, just so I could be with him. But let's just thank Merlin it didn't come to that. He told me all that was going through his head during the battle were thoughts about me. About Ron and Hermione. About his mum and dad. About Dumbledore. About people he loved. I smiled at the thought. He loved me. He loved me so much that it also sent a dull ache to his heart.
My love for Harry Potter began when I was eleven years old. I am now thirty five and my love hasn't even come close to an end. Everyday with him is an adventure, whether it's raising our three children, or just watching him struggle through life.
fin