A/N: So, just letting you know that I hate H/G. The fact that I wrote this and it's like the longest chapter ever should make you all review. Next chapter is GW/TR.

Love is a funny thing. There are so many aspects of it and it can force someone to do many things. Especially if the person is obsessed. But I think for the most part, my love for Harry had no negatives. I was just foolish, but he still loved me anyway.

It all started out with that puppy dog crush. I saw him when I was ten. I was much shyer then, only attending because I wanted to wish off my brothers. I would have never expected to see the Boy-Who-Lived that day. That was probably why I was shy. Because back then, I did not know him. I knew what everyone else knew about him. He was some sort of legend in my eyes and being in his presence was nearly awe-inspiring.

I stood there behind my mother as she told Harry how it worked. It was Ron's first time, too. Looking back, it really wasn't hard. After all, once you've stepped through a lit fireplace, doing crazy things like walking through a wall was nothing. But he was muggle raised, so walking through the wall was much odder to him. After all it was one of those muggle laws of physics. Matter or whatnot-- I never took Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, despite my father wanting me to.

But it didn't matter. As he gave my mother a confused look, it was then that I started having feelings for him. I though that despite his lanky appearance and dirty clothes that were five times too big for him, that he was genuine, honest, and cute. His hair was rather messy and it just barely covered his scar, but I saw it. I looked at him hard enough to remember every move for year. After all, I wasn't the one going to Howarts that year. I wouldn't see him for a year.

And it was a long year. I was stuck in the house with Mum. And everyone that knows my mum would know what I mean. It wasn't that she was bad mother; the opposite in fact. She was a great mother. Too great of a mother.

My only relief was the letters Ron would send back. It seemed like Ron had befriended Harry, much to Malfoy's dismay. Ron would write about the two of them and some girl. She seemed like a nice girl. Ron had once called her a 'smarmy know-it-all', but that was before the incident on Halloween. And the three had made a lifelong friendship.

It's funny to think that Ron and Hermione, the once smarmy know-it-all in his eyes, married and had children.

So the year ended with a bang. When Ron came home, he had told us all about his adventures with Harry. He told me fabulous tales about Hogwarts, but I was more interested with what he had to say about Harry. I'd bring up the boy's name at any chance, and sadly the twins noticed.

They would tease and tease me if anyone mentioned anything remotely close to Harry Potter. Which is exactly why when I saw him sitting there, mid laugh, so cute, just sitting there with my family, I froze. I really wanted that jumper, too, but I did not know how to react. I immediately turned around and ran up to my room to try and look my best for him.

Living with him that summer probably added to my crush, but I soon came to see that he had only seen me as Ron's little sister. And oh, did that aggravate me. I was no little kid and the fact that I had just become one of the Weasley boys was equally annoying, but that is something I had to deal with for years. After all, it wasn't until my fifth year that we even started dating, and I didn't even see him my sixth.

And so my first year came. I was so excited about going. Finally, I could leave the Burrow and go to Hogwarts.

However, my first year wasn't the best. Not every first year gets possessed by the evilest wizard and nearly dies because of it.

But I'll never forget waking up with a startle and Harry's hand on mine. I was shocked and confused and had no idea what was going on, but Harry was there, comforting me.

I also blamed myself for the whole ordeal, but he could sense that. As we walked back to collect Ron and Lockhart, he told me it wasn't my fault. I had dealt with a manipulative, conniving bastard. I didn't even know about it, how could I have done anything?

But he didn't know what transpired between Tom and I. He didn't know that I tried to get away from it, but I was too weak. I was worried when I heard that Harry had found the diary. Would Tom say anything? And I tried telling them that morning that I was taken, but I just couldn't get it out. Of course Percy thought that I was going to blab about Penelope Clearwater, but I just never got it out that Tom possessed me.

But I eventually got over it. I continued to fawn over Harry during my second year, but somewhere along the way, I knew he just saw me as a friend. It hurt, but I started to get over him as others took notice of me.

During the end of my second and third year, I started getting more and more attention. It first started with Neville.

Neville asked me to the Yule Ball. I'd have rather gone with Harry, but I knew that was out of the question and Neville seemed so genuine. I had a good time anyway, much better than Harry and Ron, anyway. Neville and I stayed until the very last song.

I had considered Neville for a while after. He's kind, compassionate, sweet, and just a nice guy. But he was shy. He never asked. We stayed friends long after, especially after the ordeal in the Ministry, but he was just a friend.

I think that is when guys finally noticed me, too. I started getting offers to go to Hogwarts with guys. And not just my age. I had been getting attention from older guys. It'd seemed that I had bloomed and boy, did I.

I caught Cedric looking at me in the library the end of my second year. I suppose that is when it started. And he had captivated most of my third year. Everyone always thought that he and Cho were always together. They were wrong. We had a thing for a bit.

And to tell you the truth, I couldn't stand her. She stole Cedric off of me and she tried to steal Harry the next year. Luckily, she was a sap and cried far too much. Besides, she wasn't a Gryffindor and had insulted Hermione on Valentine's Day. And it was her goofball of a friend, Marietta, that had us found out by Umbridge.

And I was the one there with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets. That is when he had finally seen what I could do with my wand. When angered or threatened, I would not cross me. Ask the Death Eaters who were hit with my Bat Bogey Hex or Reducto spell. Harry seemed quite proud. He was a good teacher and without him, I wouldn't have known how to use half of those defensive spells. But he still saw me as Ron's sister.

I had moved on anyway. I had dated a bit that year. Ron had run my ear off about it, but he still didn't get that I was my own person. I could date whom I pleased. And so I did. And I continued to during my fifth year. And he was one to talk, always off snogging or more with Lavender.

It wasn't until the end of my fifth year that Harry made a move. And it was one of the happiest days of my life, because as much as I dated, Harry would always be my first crush. But that was the thing; it seemed like so much more than just a crush. I had moved on from those little girl feelings.

And though we didn't date for very long, it had meant a lot to me. I knew he'd come back; I just had to wait. And I could. He had finally admitted his feelings to me and I knew that I was his. It was just that the whole ordeal with Voldemort. He didn't want me to get hurt because of him. He didn't realize that I was already apart of it. My family was in the Order and I was seen as a bloodtraitor, so any number of the Death Eaters will have wanted me dead anyway.

But I waited. And even though I barely saw him that summer, when he kissed me, I knew it. I knew I could wait. Everything would be over soon and in the end I would get him. I was rather persistent about it.

That's why during my sixth year I tried to help Harry from the inside. It was hard and I got into so much trouble, but it was worth it. The sooner Voldemort was defeated the sooner Harry could be back in my arms longingly kissing me in the same way he left me.

Needless to say, but when I saw him in the Room of Requirement, it was all that I had but to run up to him and hold him. That was when I knew that I did love him, I really did. I couldn't really say much to him then, but I knew that if we survived, I would. I had to.

I'm not really going to rehash the Last Battle. I'm sure you've heard all about it and probably know the details of it as well as I do. I lost a brother and dear friends. I only respect their memory by mentioning how much I miss Fred, Tonks, Professor Lupin, and even Colin Creevey.

But know that when I saw Harry's limp body in Hagrid's arms and the way Voldemort just stood there gloating, I felt as if my own life had just ended. I thought that everything was over. So when I saw Harry spring back up, it was like my own life had reawakened. I was ready to fight again.

And we know how it ended. Voldemort was defeated and Harry was back in my arms again. We had made it. It had been tough and it was long, but we had done it.

Not to say that the next few years weren't difficult. With the loss of Dumbledore and the Ministry in a whirl, the Wizarding world has to come together. I still say that I'm not the same, I can only imagine how Harry did it.

But we had each other. He went back to school, determined to become and Auror. He wanted to make sure that nothing like that would ever happen again. We saw each other all the time. We graduated together and he proposed to me on the two year anniversary of the Last Battle.

It was all so perfect. Of course it was still hard and we had to deal with a lot, but we did it. We were truly in love. Harry had no other family so it was like he latched to my family and me in particular. I was so happy to finally have him. It really did seem like everything was perfect.

We married a few months after he became an Auror. I took up a position in the Ministry. I had so many connections it seemed silly if I didn't. We had enough money between the two of us to get a nice house not far from the Burrow which made Mum happy when I became pregnant.

I ended up have three children: James, Albus, and Lily. They were the highlight of my life for so long. I loved being a mother and Harry was such a good father. I always knew he would be.

Nothing very big happened until the children went to school. For ten years, we had the perfect marriage. Everything was amazing. We were still in love. We had the house with the white picket fence. We had the children. We had the animals. We had everything we wanted.

And somehow that wasn't enough for me. I had strayed away from my husband with an attractive Quidditch player. I knew it was wrong, but Oliver was different. He was fun and crazy. And for a time, it was rather amazing.

But he wasn't Harry. And I knew I had to tell him. It was perhaps the scariest day of my life. Telling the man I loved that I had cheated on him was far worse than dueling Bellatrix Lestrange. I would take that any day.

He was more hurt than angry, as I suspected. But I begged and pleaded with him. I told him that I would never do that again. I knew it was wrong and I knew that I had screwed up the best thing I had. I put everything at risk and I knew that I needed Harry and no one else. He asked who it was. I lied. He and Oliver were friends; I couldn't do that to Harry. I lied and told him it was someone at work. And then I told him I would never cheat or lie to him again.

And it was resolved. It took awhile, but he knew that I felt so awful about it. I still do. I feel childish and almost dirty because of it. Oliver was a great person (and a great lay), but I felt like a tart because of it. That was not me and Oliver was not Harry.

He forgave me and soon it was forgotten. We grew older together. Harry still persisted on being an Auror. It was a regular argument with the two of us. Even on his 60th birthday, he told me he was going to work that day. And soon after, he was killed.

Today makes it three years since he was taken from his family and me. I feel like I belong nowhere now. I watched them role the rock in front of his grave and I cursed every Dark Wizard. He was killed during a raid. People still deny that there is evil out there, but every few years some crackpot tries to gain world dominance and it seemed like Alagory Dolohov was trying to be like the next Voldemort or something. Of course his dominance was over Harry, but the rest of the Aurors eventually took him down.

But I still lost the man I love. It still feels like there's a whole in my heart of it. It's been three years and that's why I am writing this. Sure it is a story about my escapades with the opposite gender, but this is mainly written to Harry. I will always love him. That is why this is the first chapter about guys. He was the most important person to me.

And he always will.

So, Harry, wherever you are, this is for you. I send my love.