Love
Before I met you, I thought love was a fairytale, something I could never have or would never obtain, just a silly line in a children's rhyme.
But we-our-relationship defined love.
Date's on the very top of a lush little hill, in a secret location no one but you and I knew about.
Pushing each other down lush, soft, grassy hills of green until we both fell down at the exact same time, tumbling in a tangle of limbs to the bottom.
Sitting up at the bottom and closing our eyes leaning in for a kiss but before you reach my lips I push you away and run.
You stay at the bottom of that hill, scratching your head, looking confused, until you give a shrug and get up (no questions asked) chasing me around in our secret meadow paradise.
That's love.
You, taking me home with you, to a Georgless flat, after a date, and we just stood in the dark for a while because you were too much of a gentleman to just jump on me and drag me to your bed.
Instead I ignite the flame myself; kissing you harder than ever, full on the mouth.
Stripping off all those unneeded clothes before we even reached your bed.
Wrapping my legs around your torso, you carrying me off-not to your bedroom-but to a place of ecstasy and passion in my mind.
Sex in the dark, under the covers, heavy breathing, long stretching moans, hands all over each other, you nestled in between my legs, making me ache with need, giving me what I long for, there loving me.
And we were there caressing each other afterwards in the darkness. You whispering my name tenderly, longingly, lovingly.
Then after a while of just staring at each other. Memorizing every dimple, scar, freckle, mark, we'd go at it again because we never got tired of showing each other how much we loved the other.
That's love.
Going to the shop and kissing all the while in your brother's face when we know he hated it almost as mcuh as he hated Alicia's boyfriend.
That's love.
Making fun of people together. Love
Walking through parks together. Love
Coming to the Burrow to meet your family. The happiest, warmest feeling of love for you and them.
My parents (mostly mum's doing and my begging of her to) invited you to one of our properties, a three-story, smooth, all cherry-wood, cabin near the Snowy Alps ski lodge.
Once we apparated there and my parents got a good glimpse of you, they gave you a once over, showing signs in their faces that they didn't and would never approve. Dame didn't like you either.
I fought them all on the matter.
They won the battle but I had the war taken care of.
We tried to share a room, my father went berserk and Dame sided with him like the little kiss ass he was.
You sided with him too though, secretly you had a plan up your sleeve, and I knew you did.
And when the day was over and everyone was resting up in their rooms you snuck into mine in the dead of night and snuggled in the bed with me.
I couldn't control my hands, you couldn't control being a man and before you know it mum was drawn to my room because she heard strange sounds, like a giant jumping up and down on a humongous, broken, squeaky spring, bunk bed.
I swear the woman wouldn't recognize the sounds of two people shagging if one of them were her own self.
She walks in unknowingly and flicks the light switch on, catching a fairly good glimpse of your skinny white arse in the air as you come back down on top of her little girl-me.
The light switch immediately goes off.
I think I'm going to hear her scream but then I hear her shut the door and shuffle back to her room and I realize what's about to happen.
Of course she alerts my father to do something about this; my mum was never one for discipline,
He comes in and switches on the light and I cover my chest and my body and give you some cover so you won't show any more of your package to any more of my family members.
My father does the obvious, lunging for you. You dive swiftly, quickly grabbing your boxers and running out my door and out the cabin's door until you make it outside, naked, and in the snow.
My father has his wand and is shooting hexes at you from a few feet away.
I was never worried, because you, Mr. Weasley, were always full of surprises.
You dodged every single one of those curses and got away with one leg in your boxers and the other naked, white and shivering.Then you shouted goodbye and apparated before one of the jets of bright red light could touch you.
My father now hated you more than he did the first time he saw you (much more) and forbed you from ever coming into any one of our houses, mansions, castles, estates, cabins, or my flat. He also forbed me from seeing you and vice versa. The crazy loon even wanted to get a restraining order, so you wouldn't be able to come to see my games or the Holy head stadium.
I still don't have a care nor worry because I know I'll see you later sometime between today and tomorrow.
That's love.
We never shared bodies with anyone else after we got together, never had eyes for any other, never lusted after another man nor woman, never looked at anyone else the way we look at each other, always kissed before parting ways, never stayed mad at each other for too long, and never cheated out of revenge or anger, because back in those times when the 2nd war was freshly starting we didn't know which step or leap or move would be our last. You were proof of that.
Our love was anything but pure.
I remember you hated when couples called love pure.
Because it isn't.
When you're in love, you hurt people including the one your in love with just so you can find a way to be with them forever.
You'd kill.
You'd steal.
You'd destroy just to remain holding that person in the end.
The sad part is I never got to hold you in the end. The sad tragic end.
I stomped on a lot of tarts, sluts, scarlet women, whores, cunts, bitches, and all just to get to you.
I broke many hearts of quidditch stars, handsome devils, charming aurors, and athletic hunks, including a good friend of mine that you hated.
I cried so many tears in all the nights I spent without you when you were off with some skank at Hogwarts.
But little did I know I'd cry rivers, oceans, and lakes when you left me completely.
Out of this world, never to return with that brilliant smile that could light up the darkest of places.
Some say its better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
And I both resent and understand that.
I'm so disgusted and bitter and sad and lonely and angry all at once, that you left me.
But then I remember all those days we spent locked up in my flat-cuddling, praying for those of our family at war already….Out clubbing on the town-me grinding my body into yours, doing provocative dances that would have made your mum murder me….Watching you stuff your face with the cold chicken sandwiches I made for our picnic in the secluded bright field of daisies, and when you caught me staring, tried to kiss me with your mouth full….and I'm happy, so terribly happy that I got to love you, and you got to love me too.
And at this very second while I'm thinking of you, I swear I can still feel that big heart of yours beating with all the love it held when you, my love, were alive……