Love, ha. Was that ever a joke. Just when the world seems wonderful, when those rose-colored glasses really kick in, when you know that life couldn't get any better because you're with that one special person, …it all collapses right from under your feet.
A bad experience with love? Me? No, of course not. I was never in love …if you don't count being totally madly in bliss, somersaulting in joy, bending over backwards for a person with the biggest swirl of adoration, care and passion swelling in your heart. If you do, well, then yes, I was in love. Once.
And I think I still am. No matter what I do or say or think, I can't escape from it. Na-ah.
Harry Potter stole my heart last year, and hasn't given it back since. I still clearly remember what he said and how he looked when I first became his…
It was late in the castle. It had to have been because I was making my way to the Astronomy Tower to catch up on some notes I had missed from when I was ill with a sore throat.
No one knew that I was out, still thinking that I was too sick. I'm not a straight-A student, but I did not want to fall behind in my favorite subject of all time. Yep, stars, space, I love it all. There's so much to love, literally. Have you just stopped and looked at the sky at night recently? It's incredible, but I'm getting off track.
Alright, so I was walking out onto the balcony, ready with my telescope, parchment and quill in hand. And as I was adjusting the lens, a warm hand gently rested on my shoulder. When I turned around, I met the face of my beloved. His green eyes, greener than the grass or the leaves or the brightest emerald, were glowing as they united with my own amber eyes. His mouth was in a sort of slight half-grin, as if his ease and unease were battling it out upon his face. But I could tell that he was glad to see me; why else would he have followed me up to the balcony, at night, under the stars…
"Harry." I hardly whispered. He took my free hands into his, and it felt wonderful to have such warmth running up my arms and through my stomach.
"Ginny, there's something I want to tell you. I've wanted to for a while, but I just… I've been so stupid. This year I've made some mistakes concerning you. I haven't been there for you, Gin. You're one of my best friends."
Ok, so at this point, I was so dazed from the feeling of his fingers slightly moving back and forth over my skin to even hear his words of guilt and self-blame. But when he said those words, "You're one of my best friends.", I thought I couldn't breathe. His best friend? That's all? It was a metaphoric smack in the face, yet I felt myself turn red anyway. So I let him continue, as I was too shattered to speak.
"You've always been there for me in some way. I admire you so much, Ginny. Your strength, determination, courage. It's what I love about you."
Then my mind froze. Did he just say love?
"That's what I wanted to tell you, Ginny. I love you. With all my heart, I love you."
My lips were pursed and tight as I took in his words. They seemed so surreal to me, like I had finally been granted a wish I'd been holding onto for years. Heck, that's exactly what it was.
"I-I love you too, Harry." I wanted to say so much more. How I had always loved him, no matter what. How each time he faced a challenge, I wanted to be right there with him so badly. How strongly I wished I could take him into my arms every time he looked lost, alone and hopeless. But he knew just what I wanted to say in the quiet harmony between our eyes. Then his eyes closed, and I felt mine close too, and as soon as I knew, his soft lips were pressing against mine.
Astronomy to love. Shooting stars blasted across the sky in a shower of color and light at our kiss. I had my eyes closed, but I could feel the power through Harry. It was the best night of my life.
After that night, that beautiful night, everything continued to be beautiful. Harry and I would walk down to breakfast early in the morning when everyone else was still getting ready, and if we had time, we'd stroll up to the balcony and talk. In between classes and at lunch, we'd be together. At night, in the common room, he would always help me with my Transfiguration, and with our heads put together, we'd do our best to assess one another's Potions assignments. Seriously, those essays can seem downright impossible sometimes.
But it wasn't just talking and homework we did. We loved eachother, so it was only natural to show our love through action. We would always sneak up to the Astronomy Tower underneath his remarkable invisibility cloak. Harry would kiss me and I'd feel lighter than air as though I could rise and keep rising until I'd be amongst the stars.
Harry never failed to make me laugh, too. He didn't even try sometimes. Just a facial expression of his could send me into mad fits of giggles. A glare would follow my outburst, which only made me laugh harder.
But the end of his seventh year came, and things stopped being so amusing. He entered the Auror program, of course. We stayed in touch through owl post, during breaks, and whenever he could, Harry would come into Hogsmeade. Others thought that I dating an 'older man' let alone "The Boy-Who-Lived" was a bit shoddy of me. But I didn't see him as those things. I remained faithful to him no matter what. I even turned down other boys' offers to the balls and other school events.
Why, you ask? Because I loved him. It was so simple. Harry was my world. You could say that I was completely wound. I guess I was.
I'm not wound anymore, but the scars are still there, and my love for Harry is there still as well. It's a relentless dull ache that rouses each time I think about him. And the ache becomes a pain and the pain grows to be agony.
The reason why we broke up was displayed so crudely in front of my eyes. It was the last day of my seventh year, and a few of us wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. When I walked into that pub, the first thing I saw was Harry, sitting at a table with Cho Chang, and they were kissing.
I swear I was paralyzed because as soon as I ran out of there, my knees buckled and I collapsed. The air was heavy and humid as I sucked it in, and tears streaked my face.
Harry never knew I saw him. He never heard my sobs as I cried myself to sleep that night. He never wrote to me after that.
I am Ginny Wealsey, and I love Harry Potter.
