"It's foolish," Seamus tells me, "He's never show any interest in her before. Mate, you're just being paranoid." He says he's only being protective because she's Ron's little sister. She might as well be Harry's as well. But he doesn't see it. Quidditch practice, the common room, meal times, everywhere she is, he is too. Maybe I am paranoid, but it would make sense. She's so perfect, guys are lining up everywhere, why pick me? I forget my troubles when it's my hand she's holding and I'm the one who gets to kiss her.
That doesn't last long. I see him storming up to the dormitory after a particularly heated kiss. I can feel his eyes, glaring, and when I look his way, the anger and jealously isn't apparent. Until I started searching for it. During quidditch he would watch her for longer than everyone else. He laughed louder, joked more, yelled less. I needed to do something to reassure her I could be better. We were fighting more. After most of our spats, she would go sit with Ron, Hermione and Harry. She always sat next to him, a little closer than just friendship required. I hated myself for being so jealous. I caused most of the fights anyway. She told me what not todo, but I still did it.
One evening she was the instigator. The thing was I never touched her when we walked into the common room.
Katie Bell was back and in my spot on the quidditch team, so I had little to no opportunities to talk to Ginny. She sat with them at every meal. I could see the relationship grow between her and Potter. It was only a matter of time, and then he went and got himself detention on every Saturday. The match for the cup was the worst one yet. We won, yes, and the after party was huge, as usual. Everyone was waiting for our captain to get back, the portrait hole swung open and then it seemed to happen in slow motion. Harry's face lit up, Ron moved towards him slightly, but it was Ginny who got there first. I felt the glass break in my hand as the wolf whistles and cat calls started. Harry looked up, to find Ron I suppose, his eyes met mine for a second and all I saw was pure happiness.
My resolve to kill him faltered as the weeks went on. I've never seen him or Ginny, so happy. It seemed meant to be, she no longer had boys lined up to date her. They all realized it would be a hopeless attempt.
She told me she loved me, when we were still dating, I believed her then. But watching them now, I know, it was always him. Not the boy who lived, not Harry Potter, the chosen one, but Harry. Just Harry.
