I never told him, never wanted him to know. Maybe I was shy, or maybe it wasn't meant to be. I know I'm thinking in clichés, but these words that so many people have used before me are somehow comforting.
Why did I let it slip past me? There were so many times I could have said, "I love you", or "I like you", asked, "Will you go out with me?" I could have let him know I felt. But I didn't, and now it's too late.
I'll never forget those days when I'd sit in class and just watch him, drinking in his unruly hair and emerald eyes. I don't think anyone ever saw it, though once someone gave me a funny look. And somehow it didn't even make a difference in my marks.
Sad to think that I was only ever one of a crowd. So many girls looked at him admiringly, so many girls. I was only ever another to him, though I was fortunate to know him better, beyond his publicity and "Boy Who Lived" façade.
And then when he started going out with Cho- it nearly broke my heart. On the surface, I was indifferent, nothing changed. But underneath, I was in agony, every time I saw them together. At the DA meetings, at Hogsmeade. I couldn't believe it when they split- but I still let it pass me by.
And after we'd finished with school, we went our separate ways. Every now and then, I'd hear about him, his ground-breaking work as an Auror. I'd wanted that, too, once. But that, too, passed me by. My own fault, I suppose.
But it's too late now.
"Mrs Weasley? Mrs Weasley?" a voice from the present calls. "Hermione?"