Obsession
7:00 a.m. She ate her scrambled eggs with bacon and loads of ketchup.
8:00 a.m. She took her long, hot shower in the prefect's bathroom- with papaya scented water.
9:00 a.m. She'd have Herbology or Potions with Hufflepuffs.
10:00 a.m. She'd have Potions or Transfiguration with Slytherins.
11:00 a.m. She'd have Herbology or Arithmacy with Hufflepuffs.
12:00 p.m. She ate her usual teriyaki chicken with mashed potatoes and pumpkin juice.
1:00 p.m. She would be reading leisure books in the forbidden section of the library.
2:00 p.m. She'd have Transfiguration or Muggle Studies with Ravenclaws.
3:00 p.m. She'd have Arithmacy or Muggle Studies with Slytherins.
4:00 p.m. She would take the hour to finish her essays.
5:00 p.m. She ate some fruit dipped in maple syrup.
6:00 p.m. She took a dip in the pool to keep fit.
7:00 p.m. She'd play a game of truth or dare in the Gryffindor common room.
8:00 p.m. She would take a warm, short shower.
9:00 p.m. She would climb into bed for the night's sleep.
My eyes scanned her body once again as she grabbed her mashed potatoes, stuffing them in her mouth, for she did not care about table manners and such girlish reverie.
I hated myself for knowing everything about her. But yet, I could not help but watch her every move, every day. It had become my sole purpose when I woke up, she was always on my mind, yet she did not even know I existed. It had been three very uneventful years like this, where I would follow in shadows, never really knowing what this obsession was all about.
I loved the way her fiery red hair blew in the wind and the way her hips moved when she walked. I envied the way she giggled for Harry Potter, the way she'd bat her eyelashes at him. I loved the way she didn't care about the things around her, the way she got bright red as soon as she was embarrassed. I loved her amazing anger at everyone, how she would lash out as soon as they'd insult her family, her name, or her looks.
But I do not love her.
Anyone would tell you not to say Harry Potter's name in front of me. Most people think it's because I ship for Voldemort, but that isn't necessarily true. The bloody git has the most wonderful girl in his hands, and he is too stupid to notice it. He will laugh with her at jokes their best friend makes. He would treat her just like he treats any other girl her age. He does not notice the way she watches his every move, just like I do with her.
I have never talked to her, never held her in my arms. She has never cried on my shoulder, never turned to look at me. I will never talk to her, never hold her in my arms. She will never cry on my shoulder, never turn to look at me.
"Eh…. Excuse me?" I was shaken out of my reverie by her sweet, sing-song voice. She was standing behind me, an angel clad in black robes.
"Yes?" I replied coldly, my staring eyes never leaving hers.
"Could I have the salt please?" she indicated the tiny object I was currently holding in my hand, I had used it moments ago with my mashed potatoes.
"Uh…. Sure." I gave it her, she muttered a "thanks" and went back to her table.
Not once did my eyes leave her body as she walked across the hallway, sat on her chair and engaged in a boring conversation with the Boy who Lived.
So I will watch her every move once more, she will laugh at Potter's jokes once more, and life will go on. Tonight when I fall asleep in my bed, I will think of her, and my dreams will try to help me sooth my pain.
For I will never talk to her again, never hold her in my arms. She will never cry on my shoulder, never turn to look at me.
For her, I am a nobody, and always will be.
"You might not love me Ginny, but I swear my love will stay the same for you." I whispered under my breath, my eyes still on her.
"Cmon Blaise, party in the common room!" I looked back one last time as I left the dining hall. Her skin so creamy, yet I will never be able to touch it for for her, I am a nobody.