Love

The Quidditch match is over. We won the last match, an amazing feat. Ron is traipsing around holding the trophy high, telling anyone who will listen how amazingly we (mostly he) defeated the other team. Hermoine and I are sitting on the couch, “So have you seen Harry?” The damn girl knows me too the common room well.

“No.” I notice she’s still staring at Ron, as she has been for the past half hour, “Why don’t you go talk to him? Congratulate him, bet he’d love that. The git.”

She blushed ferociously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I just rolled my eyes as we dissolved into giggles, “I wonder, do you reckon he really thinks he won the match by himself?”

“Knowing him?” She smirked to me, “Probably. He’ll come around in a day or two though, maybe.”

We laughed again as the music in the common room got louder, I looked around and notice the portrait door opening. Cheers were getting louder and over the top of two girls heads I could see a familiar mess of black hair. Without thinking I’m up and running towards the boy who’s been haunting my dreams for years now. He looks up at the exact moment I throw my arms around him, and I’m not sure who starts it but I don’t care.

Because I’m kissing Harry Potter.

And he’s kissing my back.

It seems like an hour has gone by before we pull apart. His face is flushed his eyes wide and excited, and I know I look the same. Behind us the room has gone silent, and Harry stares at me a another moment before looking over my shoulder. His eyes are flickering, looking for something before they stop and he grimances slightly. He sends an apologetic look to someone who I’m guessing is my brother (the git) before looking back to me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Did he like the kiss, does he regret it? His eyes are intense, boring into mine and then he’s gesturing for me to walk with him out the portrait hole. He still hasn’t smiled, or done anything to give away what he’s feeling. Walking out with him I hear people cat calling and whistling to us before the fat lady swings closed and we are engulfed in silence.

We walk for a while, him thoughfully, me nervously. Finally, he stops and turns to me, “So…wow.” He clears his throat, “Um, about-what happened back there-I mean.” He stops him self and runs a hand through his already tousled hair.

I’m watching him now, as he gets even more flustered. The poor boy looks like he’s about to have heart failure so I save him from speaking again, “I never stopped liking you you know.”

His eyes, piercing green, flicker from the floor up to me, “Really?” Is this boy blind? Could he really not tell that I’ve been in love with him since I was ten. Of course back then I only loved him because of his looks, now that I know him better I love him for his personality. As cheesy as that may sound. “Wow.” He says again.

I chuckle slightly, “Wow indeed. Sorry about pouncing on you back there, been wanting to do that forever.”

One corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile, “I know how you feel.” My knees went weak, he did?

love: (n) an intense feeling of deep affection.

Ginny stood in front of me, fearless, while I babbled like an incompetent fool. God Harry could you be any less cool, I mentally smacked myself. Here I was in front of the girl I liked and I was acting like an idiot, having nothing more to say then wow.

Never the less Ginny chuckles, “Wow indeed. Sorry about pouncing on you back there, been wanting to do that forever.”

I smile slightly, she had no idea, “I know how you feel.”

Another laugh from her, “I just wished I’d gotten to see Ron’s face.”

I watched as she threw her head back, imagining what her brother would have looked like, in laughter. God why did this girl always manage to give me weak knees. I can stand up to Voldemort but she manages to break me, “I did see his face. He looked confused, but I’m pretty sure if we hadn’t’ve left when we did he would have beat me.”

The gorgeous girl in front of me, “Yeah right. Have you ever seen my brother fight?” She shook her head, “Without a wand he’s completely useless.”

We started walking again and I looked over to her, how did I get this lucky? “So, um, about what happened in the common room.” She stopped me once again, turning in front of me. Her shirt was slightly undone and I averted my gaze (how ever much I wanted to look) from the cleavlege showing.

“You mean when we kissed.” Why did it sound so much simpler when she said it. I nodded, “What about it.”

Oh god here I go.

love: (v) feel of deep romantic or sexual attachment to someone.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and I watched him curiously as he searched for words. Taking the time to properly look at him for the first time tonight I noticed he was wearing muggle sneakers with his school trousers. He didn’t have his robe on and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, his tie loosened. I tried not to stare too much at the muscles prominent through his shirt.

“Well I was just wondering if you maybe would want to be my girlfriend?” he blurted suddenly. He was gazing at me, his eyes filled with nervousness.

My heart was pouding a million miles per hour, my stomach doing flips, and yet somehow I managed to stay calm. Slowly, I reached out and grabbed his hand, our fingers intertwining, “Only if you want to be my boyfriend.”

He laughed his first genuine laugh in a long time and it was like music to my ears, “Bloody hell yes.” Before then I don’t think I’d ever heard Harry curse. But none of this mattered now because all I could think about were his strong hands on my waist, pulling me against him. His eyes met mine for a brief second before they closed and his lips were on mine again.
It was like a dream come true, a kiss with Harry Potter for the second time in one night.

Unlike in the common room however, our kiss was much less tentative, our tongues taking their time exploring each others mouths. He tasted like the best candy in the world.
We never did get around to discussing the quidditch match.