Disclaimer: Harry Potter, JKR, kapeesh? 
(Another HP/GW One-shot…call me crazy, or call me the HPGW Fan Fiction Queen) 

Romeo and Juliet

                     Ah, homework, one of my favourite parts of the day. Righto.

                    I was going to open my Standard Book of Spells 5 when a piece of parchment fell out. I picked it up. It was small and had jagged edges. It looked like it was torn out from a book. I read what it had said.

                    Ginny's Eyes
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

You Secret Admirer

                    Your Secret Admirer? That was codswallop. What kind of git would send me a love letter? Though it was rather romantic, I daresay. It sounded very familiar, like I had read it before. Two of the fairest stars in all heaven…no, my eyes aren't that beautiful. They're the colour of poo! I'd rather have bright gree—ahem—blue eyes than these dull brown ones. Hang on, was this some sort of joke my idiot of a brother decided to play on me? I was about to tear the piece of parchment into two when Hermione snatched it away from me, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

                    "What's this, Ginny?" she asked as she skimmed through the letter, "Ah, Shakespeare, I see. This is really sweet; do you know who it's from?" I laughed. If I knew who it was he would already be enveloped in my arms, in a hot and heavy—whoops, sorry I shouldn't share that, should I? I replied, "No."

                    "Then do you have any suspects?" Hermione said as she plopped down beside me. I shrugged. But my eyes landed automatically on Harry Potter. Key word: automatically. I wasn't in love with him or anything, nor did I have a crush on him anymore, or so I think. But so many years have gone and passed that whenever I think of romantic love, my eyes just landed on him. It became a habit, and it surprised me how I didn't try to get rid of it. Oh, sorry, I get distracted really easily.

                    "Do you think it's him?" Hermione asked as she followed my gaze. I smiled, "Can't hurt to dream."

                    "Aha! So you do still like him!" my best friend gasped. Reaching for the piece of parchment, I sighed, "I don't. I just think he's really handsome for a bloke. My feelings for Harry are truly platonic."

                    "Really, then why were you staring at him?" Hermione asked. I shrugged. The bushy-haired girl sighed, "Alright, so, any suspects on who this might be from?"

                    "No."

                    "How about Dean?"

                    "Ugh, no."

                    "Why not?"

                    "He's nutters over Parvati Patil."

                    "Oh, right. How about Michael Corner?"

                    "Cho Chang."

                    "Right. Who else?"

                    "I don't know."

                    "Colin Creevey?"

                    "No, I doubt it."

                    "Why not?"

                    "You sure you want to know?"

                    "YES!" Hermione cried. I laughed, "I think he likes Harry more than girls! Nah, I'm just joking. I don't think he's interested in girls, he's too engrossed in photography."

                    I sighed. I had no suspects. Who in the world was this parchment from? I looked at it again and turned to Hermione, "Do you think this is a joke from Ron?"

                    Hermione shrugged, "I doubt it. I mean if it was a joke, Ron would probably write 'I'm so in love with you, I want to marry you' or whatnot. This person must really care for you a lot to go through all that trouble ripping off a page from a muggle book. And that book was written like a couple of centuries ago. I don't think you'll find that in the Library. And if you really want to find out if this is a joke or not, there's only one thing to do."

                    "What?"

                    "Reply to the letter," Hermione said simply, " Even though it says "Secret Admirer", it has a charm on it that enables you to reply to the person who sent it to you. However, you only can send it by owl. So what do you say? Are you replying?"

                    What choice did I have? I should really take more chances in life. I nodded, "Yeah, sure, I guess. What do I say, though?"

                    "How about something from Shakespeare as well? He got the excerpt from Romeo and Juliet, so I suggest you do the same," Hermione suggested. I grinned. Sometimes she was just  too smart for her own good.

                    *

                    I reread my reply as I walked out of the castle, twenty four hours later. I found it odd, and I really had no idea what it meant. This Shakespeare bloke spoke funny. But Hermione said it would work, that it meant that if my Secret Admirer had really liked me, he should tell me who he really is.  Codswallop, I tell you. It also quite annoyed me that this bloke who fancied me didn't come up right to my face to tell me. Oh blimey, I couldn't blame him, other people thought of me as a fierce person because of my sudden outspokenness last year. Anyway, back to the letter. It read:

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:                 

Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,

I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.

Ginny

                    I stepped into the Owlery,  still to engrossed in my letter when I bumped hard into someone. I looked up and saw Harry Potter. I guess I should confess at this moment, for I really had feelings for Harry. You just couldn't get enough of those bright green eyes. So I had attempted to get him out of my mind, to push these feelings away, but who was I kidding? I failed miserably. He still managed to make me go weak in the knees, even with just one look. So at that moment, my insides were mush.

                    "Hi Ginny!" He said enthusiastically, "What are you doing here?"

                    I held up the piece of parchment, "Pretty obvious, isn't it?"

                    "R-right," Harry stammered. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, "I heard from Hermione that you got a secret admirer."

                    "Yeah," I said awkwardly. I really didn't know what do around this boy. He chuckled, "So, any idea who it's from?"

                    I tilted my head, "You." Harry stood up straighter and laughed nervously, "Me? Why me? I don't think—"

                    "Just pulling your leg, Potter. No, I don't have a clue. So, who are you sending that too?" I pointed at the piece of parchment in his hands. He smiled, "Well, I didn't expect to find you here. Hmm…It's a secret."

                    I groaned. This was so like Harry. He never did tell me anything. He would just run to Ron and Hermione and tell them his little secret. Hm. I should stop whining. Maybe that's why he doesn't tell me his secret. I sounded like a little girl. He added, "But you'll find out soon."

                    He opened called for Hedwig, and soon enough the snowy owl had appeared, swooshing down on to Harry, nearly shaving off the top of my head. I shuddered. Letting go of my Weasley locks was like letting go of a thousand Galleons. Harry muttered something to Hedwig, and then he grinned at me.

                    I expected Hedwig to fly off and soar above me, but instead she landed beside Harry's feet and hopped towards me. I looked at Harry, confused. He urged me to take the letter, so I did. I knelt down and untied the parchment off Hedwig's leg. Then I stood up and walked towards Harry. I demanded, "What's this?"

                    "You'd never know unless you open it, right?" Harry asked. I unfolded the piece of parchment and widened my eyes in shock. Oh Merlin. Oh my bloody mittens. Oh great Dumbledore's socks!

Dear Ginny,

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

 Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

T is my lady, O, it is my love!

O that she knew she were!

Your Secret Admirer

                    "You're my secret admirer?" I gasped. He looked down at his feet, "You don't seem to be happy with that."

                    I shook my head. He was kidding, right? Me, not happy with that. He's nutters! Too long, had I waited for this particular moment. And if I wasn't happy with it, there's something terribly wrong with me. I suddenly realised that I had a letter in my hand. My reply. I took Harry's hand and placed the letter in it. He looked at me curiously, "What's this?"

                    That sounded oddly familiar. I smiled coyly, "You'd never know unless you open it."

                    Harry gave me a look. I laughed, "I am just quoting." He opened the letter and stared at it for a couple of minutes, and then folded it back. He took my hand, "You want me to say it?"

                    "Say what?" I asked. If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. Oh, right. I was too daft sometimes. He seemed to read my mind. Harry smiled, "Well?"

                    "I'm not forcing you," I said. He placed his lips on the back of my hand, making me shiver, "I know."

                    He took hold of my chin and pressed his lips onto mine.

                    I love you.

                    I didn't hear him say it, but I felt his feelings through his kiss. I kissed him back, telling him the same message. We broke apart, grinning like a bunch of idiots.

                    "So, did you hear what I said?" Harry asked. I replied, "Yeah. Crystal clear."

                    Once again our lips were linked, this time, longer and more passionate.

                    "OY! Harry! Come on! We've got Quidditch practice!" I heard Ron yell. Dammit.  We broke apart reluctantly, pieces of crumpled parchment still in our hands. Harry sighed, "Well, I've got to go, I'll see you later, okay?"

                    I nodded and kissed his nose, "Parting is such sweet sorrow."

                    Harry chuckled, "That I shall say good night till it be morrow."

                                                                                                                                              Finite

Please review if you like the story.