The Dark Mark flashed above the campground with an eerie green glow, people running and screaming all around us. Fred grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the trees, you and everyone else close behind. My legs ached and my chest burned, but I kept going, fear overriding anything else. Finally, we came to a stop, Fred and George both panting beside me. I turned around, only to find empty night air.
I had never been so scared in my entire life. You were always doing that to me. Always making me worry.
I could never bear the thought of losing you. It made me nauseous just to think about it. I don't know if it was the thought of not having you there that terrified me, or the thought that I would never know if you felt the same way about me that I did you.
When school started back up, I began to notice something. There were boys looking at me. From across tables, or in the corridors, or in the classrooms. I only really knew one other girl, Hermione, so it was to her that I had to go to help.
And there I found out that they were all looking at me with a new agenda. An agenda I'd been planning for us. And a scheme slowly began to form in my mind.
I gave up on trying have any sort of feelings for Harry. It would never work. Besides, he was too busy fawning over Cho. I told Hermione that I was giving up. She said that maybe it was for the best.
I never wanted to give up. I hated the notion that we could never be what I wanted us to. I was only 13; too childlike and unfinished to know love, let alone know and lose it.
The Triwizard Tournament. It was perhaps the first good thing that had ever happened to me. When Harry's name was plucked from the sparks, and the deathly silence filled the Great Hall, I could see it in your eyes: the confusion... the hurt.
Everyone at Hogwarts knew about that row the two of you had. How could they not? You pushed him away. You dug yourself into a hole with the betrayal you felt. And I was there. I was there to help you through it.
I was so deliriously happy. We could go back. We could go back to the time when it was just you and me.
We talked. We talked like we had when we were young. We'd laugh like we did when we ran through the flowered meadows as children. We returned to guessing each others thoughts and finishing sentences. I could feel that bond we once shared begin to strengthen again.
There that was one night... one night...
The night before the first task, you and I lay by the pond - because you were still afraid of the Forest - looking up at the twinkling night sky. The air moist with a misty fog that seemed to cling to the words we whispered to each other.
I don't remember what you were talking about. All I was listening to was the music of your voice; my heart keeping time with it's rhythm.
A breeze came off the water suddenly, pulling goose bumps from my damp skin. I shivered and instinctively huddled next to you, not thinking about it. My body tensed at the thought of what you would do next. But you didn't push me away, or yell at me; you put your arm around me and pulled me closer.
Oh god, how my heart sang at that small gesture. I let my imagination run wild at all the prospects that simple act could ever lead to.
And we lay there for hours without talking; the bond we had recently reconnected allowed us to be comfortable with silence. Your arm stayed around my shoulders all that time, as the moon sunk below the trees and the darkness grew.
My heart beat faster and faster, each swell feeding the forbidden desire that consumed my thoughts.
Finally, at some nameless hour, in the seemingly endless night, I found the courage to tell you. My heart pushed at the back of my throat as I whispered all things that burned within. The words poured out, more than I thought I was capable of holding. Tears - a mixture of relief and fear - escaped from my eyes.
I pushed up myself up on my elbow and saw that your eyes were closed and your breathing easy and shallow. You're even more gorgeous when your sleeping. I raised my hand to brush the hair from your face, to wake you gently and pour my heart out once again.
But before I had a chance to wake you, you rolled over and murmured, still fast asleep.
You murmured a name.
You murmured her name.
I woke you with a tap on the shoulder and we went back to the common room. Luckily it was dark, and you couldn't see the tears that wore grooves in my cheeks. I rushed into my dormitory without a good night before you could see them.
The pain was almost too much too bear. The dull ache in my chest was unrelenting. That night wasn't the first or last time I cried myself to sleep over you. It didn't last long, though...
Of course, you made up with Harry at the First Task. Best friends til the end, they say. It was stupid misunderstanding, a boy thing. And once again you, Harry, and Hermione were the Golden Trio.
It made me sick. There were times when disgust pushed at the back of my throat when I saw you three together, and I would retch.
Had they been by your side under any circumstances, despite how idiotic they were? No. Did they know the little things about you that made you special? No. Did their hearts burn the way mine did when they saw you? No. Then they had no right to have the titles of your best friends.
The tears I had cried so many nights were forgotten. The sadness I'd felt was long gone. They were both replaced with an anger that welled inside of me, stoked by the sight of them. It became harder and harder each day to act as though I tolerated, let alone enjoyed, their company.To act as though I was still quiet and shy and unthreatening.
I deserved a muggle Oscar.
The Yule Ball was fast approaching. I knew I had to go. I had to get there somehow. I'd be so gorgeous, so stunning, you'd know right then and there that you wanted me the way I did you.
Neville went around asking every girl that stood still long enough. But everyone had a date from the moment the Ball was announced. I got my chance when he finally asked Hermione, but she was already going with that fool, Krum. I offered to go.
And so the date was set.