Harry Potter 1. First Year

Flawless

it was not her beautiful green eyes, that seemed to draw you in like a forest you wished to explore, or her long, red hair that was even more alive than fire, or her smile, her smile that included everyone and yet made you feel special, made you feel as though you were the only one she cared about.

no, it was all of her. every single flawless inch of her. from her toenails that she liked to paint purple, that you had seen when she used to run barefoot through the long grass of the fields near home, running away from you and you so desperate to catch up, catch her, to the very top of her beautiful head.

but you are not the only one to have noticed this. watch as the two boys enter your carriage and give her the once over. NO! DON'T DO THAT. SHE IS NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS. STOP. the boys. james potter and sirius black. the end of your nose curls in distaste. GO BACK TO YOUR OWN CARRIAGE. james potter. his jet black hair hangs over his eyes but he makes not move to push it back. probably makes him think he looks debonair. and sirius black, treats everything like a joke. to him, it probably is. to his family, he probably is. and james, he's talking to her, he has a hungry look in his eye. it is a look you recognise, a look you know well. it is the same look you have every time you look at her too.

you feel yourself smile as she rebuffs them and agree with whatever she says next as they leave, the sound of their cloaks against the floor the sweet sound of victory.


	2. Second Year

Sparkling

and others see it too, her perfection. she sparkles at school, like a butterfly floating in the wind. she is never alone, never unhappy. her smile is like a light and everyone else merely moths. she does well in every subject and yet still has time to sparkle.

and she's in gryffindor, the house that matches her hair, matches her. and you're slytherin, the house the matches her eyes, matches you. yet she still finds the time to talk to you. makes you forget that loneliness for a few minutes. you no longer sit in the corner, hiding behind your hair and that air of disdain for everyone. you remember the sound of your own laughter. the special thing about her is that she sparkles but makes everything around her sparkle too.

nothing sparkles in the dungeons that you now call home, a place more comforting than the house you were brought up in. you sleep in a room with boys you can barely stand, boys filled with jealousy and hate. you hear whispers of mudblood, more than a word, a suggestion of a traitor, of a pathetic dirty individual that doesn't fit in, of tainted beginnings and even worse endings.

I'M NOT A MUDBLOOD. so you've told them. you've led them to believe you're one of them. these boys, these selfish creatures you lie next to each night, these beings that are so far from her it is hard to believe they are from the same world, are your friends. and perhaps you do belong with them. you hate, you are jealous. you are nothing like her either, you always see the worst in people. NOT TRUE.

then try and explain why, as james and sirius and remus and peter enter the great hall for dinner, you find yourself thinking about their flaws. james is arrogant, sirius is hated by his family, remus is weak and peter is just stupid. is that hatred or jealousy?

and in she comes, sparkling as ever, laughing at something her friend has said. she waves at you, she is happy to see you. one of the few that is. yes, you love her but perhaps you hate her as well. you hate her. NO I COULD NEVER HATE HER. oh but you do. you hate how she reminds you how lonely you truly are.


	3. Third Year

treasure

she talks, you listen. you're deep in the confines of the library, surrounded by old books. it smells like knowledge. it is one of the only places you feel safe. the library provides an escape that you have not known before. there is only the whispers of learning, of exploring, of knowing.

and it is here you meet, everyday, after dinner, away from everyone, everything. she trusts you, she tells you things she never tells anyone else. and you know her well, know her better than anyone else, even herself. especially herself. and you treasure her company too. around her, you can be yourself, you do not need to pretend, to try and be something you are not.

she is telling you about her day, about something embarrassing that happened to her. you laugh in the right places and hold your hands tightly under the desk to prevent yourself from reaching over and tucking that stray lock of hair behind her ear. your hands are turning white but you do not let go, do not risk losing what you have. she finishes and her bright green eyes look from under her eyelashes straight at you. she is not looking at you, but through you. you meet her gaze but only for a few seconds before faltering and looking back down at the work you are helping her with. or rather, she is helping you with. you suggest to continue and she gives a light laugh that seems to float away amongst the bookshelves. she shuffles her chair towards you, until your arms are almost brushing up against each other. you're sure she can notice the shine of your face caused by the nervous sweating. she points out an ingredient she doesn't recognise and you lean forward to read it. a suddent waft of coconut hits you as you get so close to her you can smell her hair.

hair that is gold in the flickering candlelight of the library, the gold of treasure, of lions, of her. it glows with a light of its own in the quietness of the corner you sit in. you try and remember what you meant to say, yet are overcome with the urge to hold her and kiss her. you answer after a long pause but she does not seem to have noticed and instead scribbles down a small note on the scroll, the quill gently scratching at the paper.

bit by bit, you help her make her way through the potions essay. it is the only subject that she struggles with and by far your best subject. she dots the last full stop and packs away her stuff, leaning under the table to grab her bag. her head is dangerously close to you and you find yourself backing away. she re-emerges and moves to hug you. you hold her tight, arms wrapped around her waist. you both break off and take a step back. she goes to leave and you reach out.

DON'T GO.

instead of asking her to stay, to extend these treasured moments, you find yourself asking about her plans for tomorrow. you both agree to meet after dinner and she goes. you watch as her hair, golden as treasure, swishes behind her.


	4. Fourth Year

starry

christmas holidays. you have decided to stay. anywhere is better than home, better than the arguments, the yelling, the crying, the hate. your parents don't seem to care if you're there or not. they just care about making the other just as miserable as they feel.

you're not the only one that has decided to stay. sirius is staying, his family's even more messed up than yours. doesn't help that he's in gryffindor and his entire family is slytherin. very slytherin. james and remus have stayed too, they're keeping sirius company like good friends do. no one has stayed for you. well, not strictly true. she is staying over christmas too. her family are going skiing, some sort of muggle sport, but she broke her leg falling off a broom at the weekend, so she has decided to stay behind too.

you're not the only one happy about this. james flirts shamelessly with her and finds it hilariously funny when she rejects him. he will never give up. james is always with her and sirius is always with james so it makes being with her very difficult as sirius goes out of his way to make life difficult for you.

HE'S AN ARSEHOLE.

yes, one that delights in taunting you. you're afraid that she actually finds his insults funny and so you have turned to avoiding them all. plus, there's some boys from slytherin also staying here so you hang out with them instead. they're not her but they'll do.

christmas day. there is quite a large group sitting under the starry sky of the great hall, dumbledore at the foot of the table. the ceiling is clear, with the stars as bright as her smile, and you find yourself pointing out some of the constellations to her which she delights in. you motion to the sagittarian constellation, her star sign.

candles float above the table, casting light on the mountains of food. plates of carved turkey lie next to giant bowls of roasted potatoes, crisp on the outside, piping hot and soft on the inside. layers of gammon, dripping with honey, fight for space with peas and carrots steaming with heat, butter melting on top of them. there are towers of yorkshire puddings, stacks of sweet parsnips, piles of sausages wrapped in bacon and heaps of brussel sprouts. gravy, as thick and rich as velvet, along with redcurrant jelly, are being passed up and down the table.

there is a general sense of warmth in the room, despite the fact you are only two seats down from james and sirius with only her as a barrier. it appears they have taken a day off from bullying you. well, almost. sirius has only made two comments about the size of your nose.

she is wearing the green scarf that you bought for her, a green that is faint in comparison to her sparkling eyes. she tells you a joke and you laugh, unused to the sound of happiness.

you feel strange, you rarely feel like this. you realise you're happy, as happy as you've ever known under the starry sky of the great hall, sitting next to the girl you love.


	5. Fifth Year

To acquiesce

the word escape your mouth before you could stop it, drifting towards her like a plume of black smoke. her face, her face was something you will never forget. it flickered with disbelief as though the ground had fallen from under her but quickly resolved into a grim determination of hatred, her eyes, those incredible, sparkling green eyes that drew you in like a forest you wished to explore, hardening. her eyes are now a forest that is shut off to you forever, a tangle of tall trees, cold bushes and noises you could not wish to understand. it is not a forest for you anymore.

and that's it. she walks away. your heart, your heart – how does it feel? it doesn't, she is your heart. and now she's gone and you can't feel anything. there's nothing. just a darkness, an infinite darkness that has no beginning or end or anything. her long, red hair dancing from side to side as she goes, not even turning back to look at you, is now the fire that has burnt you out.

why aren't you running after her? you want her, you need her. ever since the first time you saw her, playing on that swing, it's been her. always her. I CAN'T OKAY. ITS HER DECISION. I ACQUIESCE. but you could change it. grab her arm, shake her, kiss her, anything to make her realise. NO. no…


	6. Sixth Year

To shiver

OWW. OW. IT HURTS SO MUCH.

nothing. you have nothing anymore. maybe that's why you agreed. so that you'd have something, something that would finally purge her from your mind. the pain keeps your mind off her, you can think of nothing else but the smell of burning flesh as the mark is tattooed onto your arm. it feels like someone has dug a red hot poker into your wrist and is dragging it through your veins. your head pumps as the cloaked figures of fellow classmates surround you, but you can not see them. all you can see is red. the red of the heat, the red of the pain, the red of anger, the red of her hair. and you've done it again. you can't forget her.

I CAN.

she's forgotten you. you've joined the ranks of the lonely, the afraid, the jealous. you hide behind rank and hatred and uniforms but you are all just afraid. your leader in particular. he is afraid of death, of love, of anything that truly matters. you have realised this but you are too.

OW.

and so you clutch the ugly red mark on your arm as you fall to the ground and lie in the foetal position, shivering. your whole body is beyond your control, but no one moves to help you. it is a ritual, a sign that you are strong enough to join them. but you realised you aren't. smart enough, perhaps but this hurts so much. brains can't help you now. no one can.

well, maybe one person can but what would she think if she could see you now? on the ground, where you belong, covered in mud and tears and blood, surrounded by people that can not abide her very existence because she's muggle born. despite that, she is one of the most talented witches in the year, in the school. despite that? you have started thinking like them.

NO, I HAVEN'T.

one by one, the lights at the ends of their wands are extinguished and they leave, disguised under the cloak of darkness. and you are left, alone, with nothing but the pain and your thoughts to keep you company.


	7. Seventh Year

To promise

she was announced head girl. you were proud but remembered that she is not yours to be proud of. head boy was potter. but of course it would be. after that it was inevitable. after 7 years of trying, potter finally got the girl. it only took him 7 years. you've been trying since you were young, since before hogwarts. you see them, all the time. holding hands as they patrol the corridors. stealing kisses between classes.

they're a good looking couple, you know that. and who would go for you anyway? as sirius takes any chance to remind you, your nose is too big, your hair too greasy, your eyes too far apart and your teeth too yellow.

SHUT UP. you escape from the castle, stumbling down the stairs to get away from your thoughts. you find yourself wandering around the grounds in the rain. everyone is taking shelter inside and the grounds are deserted, as empty as you.

you hear a giggle and hide behind a tree as footsteps approach. whispers fail to reach your ears, like secrets or dreams that you once remembered but can no longer as you wake. you stay, deadly still, taking advantage of the approaching darkness, the rain, and your black cloak. the whispers are louder and you recognise the voices. you know the tone of her voice as well as you know your own, light yet focussed, honest yet kind. and his, arrogant and brash and yet when speaking with her, there is a gentleness.

the whispering stops and you take the time to quickly glance around. they are pressed up against the tree, his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, their bodies against each other like they are one. she is on her toes to reach his mouth, their lips hovering but still not touching. she sighs and he takes the opportunity to pull her even closer to him and softly place his lips against hers. he breaks away but she has her hands in his messy black hair and forces his lips to hers once again.

you watch, you know that she is not yours. that she has never been yours and yet.

I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING YOU.

Lily, I promise.


End file.
