Don't quote me on this, but falling out of a tree onto Harry Potter was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.
8th year in Hogwarts. Most Slytherins hadn't returned but somehow I had. Not many people talked to me, understandably, and I became a bit of a recluse. No Quidditch, no trips out, just lots of studying to get the best possible exam results. I couldn't wait to leave. Harry Potter and most of Gryffindor were as popular as ever, after what happened. They spent most of that year enjoying the glory and helping to slowly rebuild Hogwarts after what happened last term.
I took to climbing the trees in the grounds to get away from the awkward silences and stares that seemed to follow me everywhere I went. Sitting high up, obscured by leaves was a good, peaceful place to read and study. One day in spring, somebody sat under the tree I was hidden in. I craned my neck to see who it was and ended up falling into the lap of a very surprised Harry Potter. I stumbled to my feet, red faced, brushing leaves off my robes. And Harry Potter laughed. He laughed. No vicious comment, no dirty look, no insulting name. He had every right to do any one of those. Instead he laughed, green eyes sparkling and black hair messy over his forehead. That was the start.
After that day, Harry often came to sit under my tree. I have no idea why. Maybe he saw how broken and sorry the war had left me. Who talks to a boy you've hated for years, a boy who has tried to kill you multiple times, a boy who's had a crush on you since the first year of Hogwarts? But, as everyone knows by now, Harry Potter is different from most people. He forgives. So he talked to me, sitting high up in the branches, about school and Quidditch and the weather, all the time swiftly avoiding the difficult conversation topics that give us our differences. He used to draw too, lying on the grass with a black pen, filling page after page with sketches, doodles and patterns. He never came with his posse of do-gooders; just by himself. I got the Golden Boy all to myself. And it felt pretty special.
Harry, as usual, was struggling in Potions, so I surprised myself and offered to help him. Look at me, being nice. Makes a change. Even more surprisingly, Harry accepted my offer enthusiastically. It still wouldn't be good for him to be seen with me after all that had happened, so we used to meet in an old hidden classroom three times a week to go over the work from Potions lessons. We used to talk a lot (I'd forgotten that Harry is quite the chatterbox) and slowly we became more comfortable with being around each other as friends, not enemies. And I loved every minute. Imagine what the others would have thought, the famous Golden Boy meeting in secret with the Slytherin Recluse.
The day Ginny and Harry broke up, things got very real for me. We had a Potions practice session and he arrived looking dazed. Without any prompting from me, the story spilled out about the Weaslette and him. You can imagine my reaction when he told me that she thought he may be in love with someone else and how they had decided to end their relationship. Harry didn't seem upset, just quiet about the fact that people thought he may be seeing someone else. I listened, making all the right sympathetic noises. Inside my mind, the fireworks were exploding.
My favourite memory is from a few weeks after that. I was in my tree studying and Harry came to find me. He'd noticed I wasn't in the Great Hall for lunch and had brought me an apple (God, he's perceptive). I jumped down from the branch to thank him and without warning, he reached up to gently brush a leaf from my hair. I looked at him in surprise (it being the first time he'd ever touched me involuntarily) and he looked at the ground, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. As we slowly walked back to Hogwarts, I grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. Harry stopped still with a startled expression on his face but, I was delighted to see, he didn't pull away. Just squeezed it lightly back.
I kissed him first, in the darkened classroom. Sparks lit up the tiny room as my lips met his. Backed up against a table, his fingers wound into my hair as I wrapped my arms round his waist. It's easy to lose your mind around Harry Potter. We didn't separate until a loud noise outside the window burst our bubble. We were quickly startled out of the magic of that moment and harry, after giving me a shy smile, disappeared, leaving me alone and glowing in the dark room.
I spent the next couple of months in a whirlwind of happiness. Kissing sessions in the classroom in between Potions revision was a regular occurrence, as was holding hands when nobody was around. Harry seemed to spend most of his time around me blushing furiously, which I loved. We were still trying to be careful and let nobody find out as I was definitely still not popular. Hermione did find out, but was surprisingly gleeful about it. We were kissing in a hidden corner by the library when she walked past, on the way to get a book. She laughed as we broke apart, blushing furiously but seemed strangely happy about the scene she'd walked in on. 'Finally,' was the only thing she said before walking off. Harry mumbled something about explaining to her and raced off too. I later found out Hermione had made Harry explain everything to both her and Ron, who definitely didn't take it as well as Hermione. I caught the Weasel muttering a lot of stuff about 'corruption' and 'horrible little ferret' but I didn't mind. Much. I had Harry Potter.
The rest of the school found out after Harry's big Quidditch match. It was quite spectacular. Just imagine, Harry swooping down on his broomstick after a fantastic victory, breaking every girl's hearts as he flew by them, only to end up tackling me into a hug. He then kissed me like no one was watching, but surely he couldn't have missed the collective gasp the entire school let out when they saw us. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Who cares anyway, it was me that got the great Harry Potter and I was never letting him go. Not after this long. Sure I heard the whispers, the insults, the comments but Harry put a stop to all of that. And we had Hermione and the Weasel with us too. And Hermione's pretty scary when she's irritated. Trust me.
Harry took me to the 8th year Ball too. Magical is the only word to describe the memories I have of that night. Black suits, house colour ties and soft smiles. He gave me a rose. Red, the exact shade of Gryffindor. I still have it, pressed in our scrapbook alongside a blurry polaroid that Pansy took of us. We danced with all the other couples, whirling round until we were dizzy and he kissed me again, in front of everyone just like the first time. We shone as bright as the stars above us.
The move to London was the start of the next adventure. Me, Harry, the Weaselette, Neville, the Weasel, Hermione, Pansy and Blaise all moved to start training for what we wanted to do. Harry and I got separate flats, about 20 minutes walk from each other but we saw each other enough. Training was difficult and time-consuming but I loved every minute. And I spent so much time in Harry's flat, it didn't take long before I was practically living there. My own flat was small and dark, and the memories came back whenever i was alone. I prefered being with Harry and his was nearer to training too. Soon his flat became our flat and I was taking up half the wardrobe and covering the bathroom surfaces with my many hair products. Sharing a place was as easy as breathing, especially as we spent every minute not at training cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie marathon.
Adventures are fun with Harry Potter. He took me on several surprise trips around London, doing all the classic tourist things and visiting all his favourite art galleries. It's different here to the wizarding world, Harry doesn't get stopped on the street, there's no incredulous whispers as we pass hand in hand and I prefer it like this. Just an ordinary couple, wrapped up in our own little world. We took a boat down the Thames, visited Buckingham Palace and Trafalgar Square. We had day trips out to Tate Modern and Tate Britain. My favourite was Southbank and the London Eye. There's something so special about kissing in a glass capsule suspended over the river, overlooking all the famous landmarks.
For our anniversary, I covered every surface in the flat with hundreds of paper birds, exactly like the one I once sent Harry in class, about the same time I realized I had a crush on the Golden Boy himself. Small memories from a time when we were distant enemies. Oh, how things have changed.
We took a train to Dover Castle for the day, just us, alone exploring. The view was spectacular and I loved every minute. We stayed until the sun set over the hills, turning every brick a glowing shade of orange. A golden castle for my Golden Boy. A picnic blanket, a bottle of champagne and my favourite person ever made the trip feel something like heaven.
As you can probably guess, my home never had a domestic atmosphere. My father was always away, my mother often out or locked away in some room in our huge house. We were too far away from everything and the only kids I met were the ones who had 'useful' parents (according to my father). But I love being at home with Harry. When I get home, he's always there. Cooking together is fun, even on the days I don't feel like eating. The flat is messy but cosy (Harry likes to tell me that I own too many clothes, therefore resulting in the constant mess). There's frequent midnight conversations, lying awake together when one of us can't sleep on a bad night. The dark of a city night makes Harry claustrophobic but I'm always there. In this city, we're surrounded by our closest friends.
We argue, but who doesn't? I'm still a sharp-tongued Slytherin who says all the wrong things and we both have our demons, making arguments easy to start. But we always find our way back to each other in the end, because we're the only ones who completely understand what we've each been through. But we're alright. We cope. Who said love was ever easy?
Which is why, when the sun comes up tomorrow, I've planned a surprise. When Harry wakes up, with messy hair and glowing eyes, I'll take him out to breakfast at our local cafe. Then we'll walk through Kensington Gardens in the morning sun. And when we get to the sunken garden, he'll spot a squirrel and turn away. And when he turns back around, I'll be waiting on one knee with a small velvet box in my hands. Harry Potter, my one and only, my golden boy, my Gryffindor lion, will you stay by my side forever? Will you marry me?
And we'll start a new adventure.