He watches her from the bookshelves. She's not doing anything out of the ordinary or particularly amazing, she's just doing homework and studying, but he is fascinated with every move she makes. He watches her smooth, curly handwriting fill up the pages. He can't understand how; it's small, but it's just another thing he admires about her.

Shaking out of his stupor, he realizes she is packing up. Frowning slightly, he makes his way out of library without her looking up, which in itself was a wonder, because her hearing was excellent. Before she can hear his light footsteps or quiet breathing, he is gone. She's never noticed him before, but he can't take his chances. This is the only time he could watch her, and he was not letting it go to waste.

-

She watches him from the Owlery, not the cleanest of places, but the only place she could watch him fly. His face is a perfect mask of concentration as he dips and dives through the air. He does crazy tricks until he finally just flies in lazy circles. His eyes her narrowed, and the handle of his broom glinting. He polished it daily, and kept better care of it than his wand. Suddenly, he slices through the air and snatches the Golden Snitch from out of no where, and spins around, looking straight at her.

She ducks quickly, and hopes beyond hope he doesn't see anything. She wrinkles her nose and mutters a quick "Scourgify". Peeking through the window again, she sighs in relief when he doesn't seem to notice. In dismay, she realizes he is flying down, and shouldering his broom. Sighing quietly, she begins the long and lonely walk back to Gryffindor Tower, until the next time she could watch him.

-

He has his Invisibility Cloak with him now, and he watches her play the piano in the abandoned Ancient Runes classroom. If her senses were sharper, she would probably feel herself being watched, but she is entranced. He watches her long, slender fingers dance gracefully across the white keys, playing a beautiful melody he couldn't place. All he knew was that he relished every moment.

-

She watches him paint the beautiful scene in front of him. Brilliant reds, shadowed oranges, dark yellows, bright golds; all part of the wonderful picture. She doesn't know how he does it, as she is hopeless, but she is content with watching, wishing he would take longer, because when he is done, she has to go.

-

They watched each other unknowingly for years, as they were too blind to see what was in front of them. Eventually, they got married to different people.

He likes his wife, maybe as a friend, but nothing more. He much rather prefers her down-to-earth nature than his wife's girly one. He hates the endless make-up on his wife's dresser, and remembers she barely used any. He frowns sadly when he sees his wife's red hair, and desperately wishes for it to be another color. He draws a picture of her as he remembers, and that gives him a bit of peace. Hs goes on with his life, but he always remembers her.

She thinks her husband is a good person, and a very good husband, for another girl. She hates her husband's abysmal flying and thinks he was much better. Her new husband won't let her play the piano, and she hates him for that. Her husband won't let her have independence either; "You should stay home with the kids instead!" he shouts angrily. And she does, not because she loves that fool, but because she loves her kids, even if they weren't his kids. She compares the two constantly, and she always likes him the best. She never forgets him.

If only the two weren't so foolishly prideful. Six people would have been much happier if they weren't.

If only, if only.