All my life, it felt like...my world revolved around her. 

She was a true friend. My best friend. We used to do everything together.

14th May 1988

Was the day I met her. I remember I was sitting on a bench watching other kids play in the playground. And I also remember feeling left out and sad, I couldn't join in because of the broken ankle I got from a previous shenanigan with Uncle Siri. 

As I watched, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was shaken from my stupor, and there I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. 

The girl offered me a smile. Her hair, fiery red, was blown by the soft breeze. Her freckles adorned her nose and cheeks, it was cute. She was pretty. 

It seemed like the world had stopped around me, around us.

She asked, "Why are you alone?"  And I told her that my ankle was broken, so I just watched from afar.

I saw her looked down at my feet and her face showed nothing but pure concern. 

To my surprise, she sat beside me and looked over the book I had on my lap, which I gave up on reading minutes ago.

"What's that?"

"A book," I replied dumbly, too caught up admiring her features.

The girl frowned, then laughed at me. "Of course it's a book, silly! I know that!" 

I stammered, embarrassed of my obvious statement, "U-um...I meant uh... It's a muggle fairy tale, 'Jack and the Beanstalk'." 

Then, the girl asked me to read the book for her. Huh. She was always bossy even when she was a child.

I said to her that I wouldn't mind lending her the book, and she could read for herself. But she told me she couldn't read yet, so I taught her how.

And the next day went like that too, except Mum had finally gotten home from her trip with Dad, so she healed my ankle.

I finally asked her name that day. It seemed that I had forgotten the day before. 

She smiled brightly at me. "Ginny Weasley," was her name.

"Harry Potter," I told her mine.

"I know," she said proudly.

And so, we continued reading, or me teaching her reading. I heard my friends calling me over to play on the monkey bars, but I couldn't care less. 

I found myself not being able to move away from her, nor could I look away.

1st September 1992

She had finally entered Hogwarts. I was beyond happy. My best friend had finally arrived! You wouldn't believe how excited and anxious I was during the house sorting ceremony.

I watched very attentively as she sat on the chair for Professor McGonagall to put the Sorting Hat upon her cute, redhead. While her brother was too busy stuffing his face with chocolate frogs he snuck in his pockets. Some things never changed.

"GRYFFINDOR!!!" the Sorting Hat shouted with vigour. 

I stood up to give her a standing ovation. Call me a sap, but I was overjoyed to hear she was in the same house as I that tears welled at the edge of my eyes.

She hurried down the chair running to us, almost missing a step. I scurried aside to make space for her to sit in.

But to my surprise, she merely waved at me and apparently, had already made a friend along the way here to Hogwarts, and sat beside the other first years instead.

If I was immensely disappointed -- yes, I was -- then I didn't let it show. I wouldn't let a thing so little to ruin the night. So I put on the big grin back on my face and celebrated with her brothers who were just as proud as I am. 

 I shot her a smile to see if she was looking. She did, and she smiled back.

I felt my heart flutter.

23rd January 1994

The day I realised I was in love with her. 

Like the teenage boys we were, Ron, Dean, Seamus , Neville and I, were talking about the girls in our school before suddenly all the attention was centred at me when Ron had jokingly said, "Y'know... I wouldn't mind having you dating my sister."

The others laugh, they did except for me who was doing a great impression of a very ripe tomato.

The laughter went to a halt when they realised I was silent.

I remember clearly the smirk Seamus had on his face when something dawn on him.

"Merlin's. Bloody. Beard," he said like in some sort of form of staccato -- for extra emphasis, he often reasoned.

"Harry, you really have the hots for Ginny, do you?"

I almost laughed when Ron's eyes when wide like saucers. He wasn't expecting that, obviously. That dense git.

I flushed red. Panicked.

I wasn't aware of what I was actually feeling for her at that moment. From what I could tell back then was that it was normal to feel that way towards your friend.

Well, no it wasn't, apparently.

I spluttered, not knowing what to say. 

Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It gave me a second of nostalgia from years before.

"You know, mate, it's totally fine if you do like my sister. You're nice."

Across from us, Seamus snorted. "Aw, that's it? That's the only reason?" He shut up when Ron shot a glare his way.

"I-I don't... I don't know what you're s-saying?" I tried to defend myself. But deep down, I eventually come to a realisation too, that what I felt for her was love.

And not just of any kind. I saw her as more than a friend.

14th February 1994

I leaned back against the stone wall as I waited for her on the lively school grounds.

Sweat surfaced from beneath my skin. My palms clammy as my hands gripped the expensive box full of intricate-looking chocolate that I had my mum ordered days ago for me to give to a certain redhead on Valentine's Day.

I paced up and down on my heels. Growing rather impatient for her to come around the corner.

Granted, I felt a poke on my side and jumped with an admittedly unmanly squeak.

"Ginny!" I lit up like a light bulb.

She beamed. "Hello to you, too!" she said in a sing-song voice. A grin on her face was enough to make my day.

"So. Why did you ask me to meet you here?" She cocked her head, a red eyebrow arched into a perfect angle.

"Well, that..." I looked down at my shoes and chewed on my bottom lip.

"Hm? What's that?" her curious asked suddenly, peeking at the chocolate I held behind my back.

I blinked at her. Snapping out of my stupor, I stammered, "Um, oh this-- uh, I um, err... Chocolates! F-for you!"

I strained myself from slapping myself hard across the face. That...that wasn't what I was supposed to say. Ugh. All that practice from last night had gone to waste. Seamus' gonna be pissed.

A pause. "F-for me?" 

I looked away blushing, hands still outstretched presenting the chocolate box. "I wouldn't have said that if it wasn't."

Instead of shooting back another retort, she smirked. "Bloody hell! Valentine's Day, is it? Oh, Harry, you gotta make it straight -- I'd say you fancy me if I hadn't known better."

 I pursed my lips. An awkward laugh was my only response. 

Then, I felt the weight lifted off my shaky hands. "This looks amazing! Thank you, Harry!" With a look inside the box, she squealed in joy.

At her dazzling smile, a tug instantly lifted the corners of my lips.

"Anything for you, Gin." 

Anything for you...

6th June 1994

Oh, was it a brilliant, amazing day! With a rather large grin glued onto my face, I made my way down the hallways at a leisure pace, literally greeting almost every person I came across.

"Harry!" 

And I heard that all too familiar voice calling me. More melodious in my ears than any song I ever heard in my life.

I turned around and saw her. 

She was rushing towards me, her quidditch magazines threatening to slip from her hands.

"Careful, Ginny," I said, chuckling -- worried that her clumsy self might trip or something.

And true to that, dozen -- maybe -- of magazines escaped her embrace onto the floor. I jogged to her and crouched down to help gather the magazines scattering on the floor.

And just then, something like out my mum's novels came to life, our fingers touched when we reached for the same book.

Heat crept up my neck. I turned away to hide my blush when I heard her giggle. It may not be an experience of that kind for her, but it truly was for me.

Butterflies flew around in my stomach, it felt funny.

"So...?" she prompted at me, her eyebrows raised.

I raised an eyebrow back at her. She rolled those very beautiful brown coloured eyes of hers.

"What's up? You seem to be awfully happy for a Monday! Everyone was talking about how you literally greeted everyone, you don't see that every day, you know," she laughed, and looked at me like I was the silliest being in the world.

I probably was, but if that made her smile and laugh so prettily like that, it's a small price to pay.

I snapped out of my short reverie and returned her smile with my own.

"Malfoy got injured by a Hippogriff." I smiled rather wickedly at the memory.

Oh, it was brilliant.

"Really?" her face lit up in disbelief and amusement.

I nodded and replied that I wouldn't say it if it were false news, which earned a hit on the arm.

I told her the whole thing, and we laughed together at Malfoy's misery and dramatic self.

I stopped laughing as I saw her laugh so carefreely, I continued watching and she didn't notice. 

She never did.

I'd hope that one day, she would.

25th August 1994

I stood in the stands, my eyes fixed at a certain red-haired beauty who was currently laughing her twin brothers' joke.

A small smile playing on my lips, I looked down at the very bottom of the grand Quidditch stadium.

To my joy and eagerness, the players walked out to the centre of the grass field, where they held an intense face-off.

The whole stadium erupted into a thunderous roar. I was, too, lost in the moment. 

I looked around as the players ascended and soared high above the ground, taking their  positions.

My heart jolted in frenzy, it pounded fast enough inside of my ribcage for my body to be washed over with adrenaline, blood thumped inside of my ears. 

Just then, a bang went off -- indicating the start of the match.

I leaned forward. My eyes trying their best to keep up tracking the players speeding around the pitch in blurs of red and green.

Just halfway through the game, a rapturous laugh reached my ears and a hand flung itself around my shoulders, pulling me towards them.

I felt my heart skipped a beat. I turned to my left, and my breath hitched in my throat. I really thought I was going to die of suffocation.

"Harry?" her voice brought me out. 

Oh. I stoned there like the idiot I was, not that many things had changed, haha.

I snapped myself out of it. Her face contorted into a frown -- she was worried.

"What's wrong? Is it cold?" I slapped myself internally for being a total ninny, being caught by the girl you liked and asked by the girl whether you're cold or not wasn't something you'd want if you're supposed to be the man.

If anything, it was my line! ...From what I'd gather from Mum's novels -- that was a secret, by the way.

"N-no... I'm not. Of course, not," I stumbled upon my words and let out a disbelieving scoff as if having my pride hurt, which was kinda true to be honest. 

But then, she wrapped her scarf around my neck, I stood there agape. "Oh Harry, it's okay not to be tough at all times, you know." 

A little part of me snapped.

Some would say that I was a sissy and sensitive, but being the hormonal, irrational teenager I was, I got rather pissed. 

I had always hated the way she treated me like a little brother or whatever it was she saw me as. It's just...so hard to accept. I took the green scarf off my neck and wrapped it around hers, said my thanks, then took my leave.

I stayed outside for a while, as my thoughts wandered as to how I ended up in this exact position. 

Just then, I heard the sounds of a woman's high heels clicking. I looked around, curious as to who they belonged to.

There stood Lily, my mum.

"Harry?" she called out. 

Standing herself next to me, she inclined her head to look at me. I could see the worry swirled in her green eyes, the exact same colour as mine.

I knew I stood no chance lying to her as everything had and has never escaped the prying and observant eyes of Lily Potter.

Heaving out a sigh, I led her back to our tent and told her about everything. 

I just couldn't keep it bottled up inside anymore, if there's anyone I could talk to at that moment, it was Mum.

8th December 1994

The day highly anticipated day had finally arrived. The day the other schools were to come to Hogwarts for the infamous magical contest, Triwizard Tournament.

Beauxbatons, from a faraway land in the Pyrenees mountains of southern France, had arrived in large, beautiful carriages flown by white horses. Durmstrang, the third school to participate, had emerged out of a lake in a huge ship.

During their stay, I had made a friend. A Beauxbatons student by name of Genevieve Vernier. She was very beautiful, no doubt a Veela. And yes, she was indeed one when I had asked about it.

We often sat near each other in the Great Hall. The poor girl was almost at all times alone, if not with me or her one other friend, owing to her quiet demeanour and her habit of snogging a book. 

One evening, we were having dinner when Genevieve's friend, Élise, asked whether Ron and I already had a date for the upcoming Yule Ball.

I felt my good mood slipped away a little at the mention of it, then remembered I hadn't yet to ask her to go with me.

So I said, "No, but there's someone I want to ask," loud and clear for her to hear.

I snuck a glance at her who was sitting near us, beside Hermione. Expecting for her to look all jealous and sad, I was disappointed at what I instead got.

She leaned forward and teased me about 'this mysterious girl', as she called it. It hurt, it really did. But I didn't show it.

"Wish it was you, Ginny? My, my."

That didn't get a reaction, too.

I shifted my eyes away from her beautiful face, a pang of hurt creeping up my chest.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ron, Hermione, along with anyone who overhead and seemed to knew of my situation with the redhead, looking at me with pity.

 My chest felt tight, and I lost my appetite -- I had to excused myself.

Then I heard her saying "Finally going to go ask her?" as I climbed over the bench. How I wanted to shout at her that she was, in fact, the one I wanted to ask out, and why I didn't, I still don't know.

I walked up to my dorm as fast as I could, slamming the door behind my back hard.

I spent the night in my bed, with a cart full of food by my bed and with Dobby sitting on my nightstand, listening patiently as I confided everything to him. 

And then, I remember something Dobby said to me, that was stuck in my head until this very day.

"Harry Potter sir," he started, seeming very hesitant to speak out his thoughts. 

"Dobby apologize if Dobby is wrong, but... F-from what Dobby heard, don't love makes you happy? Why is Harry Potter so sad?"  

"I don't know, Dobby."

I don't know.

14th December 1994

It's embarrassing to say this but, yeah, I had been wooing her to get her as my companion for the Yule Ball.

Was it working or not, you may ask? Now, looking back, I say without a doubt it didn't.

I gave chocolates, quidditch related books, accessories...girls like those, right? Anyways, this had gone on for a week, hence the very juicy gossips exchanged between the female students -- mostly -- every time they caught me giving her something.

I bet I could give her the ugliest, noisiest mandrake mankind has ever seen, and they'd still carry on with the giggles and stuff.

I stared out out the window, in my favourite hanging spot -- the top of the school owlery.

A tired and sad sigh escaped my lips. I knew this wasn't going as well as I wanted it to be. It all felt too like I was trying to buy her affections. And I would not want that.

But it did seemed like it, much to my frustration -- which I let out on a nearby glass bottle that exploded into a thousand pieces with a mere wave of my wand.

I sighed for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day.

I hoped that it at least would convince her to go with me.

16th December 1994

It was finally time. I had gotten her into an empty classroom. 

At the look on her face, I drew in a long breath and eventually asked what had been occupying my mind.

"Ginny, doyouwanttogototheYuleBallwithme?" 

Blimey, I'm laughing at my past self now, bittersweetly I might add.

She looked shocked, to say the least. Had she not expected this? I remember myself thinking. 

Then, became crestfallen when struck by the fact that she had probably never thought of herself as one to accompany me to the ball. Had all my hard work gone to waste then? It was all for nothing?

I pushed back the ache in my heart. I could feel my face falling by the minute as she kept her lips sealed, clearly not knowing what to say.

"Ginny?"

She blinked, her red lashes fanned against her pale olive skin. 

"H-huh yeah? Oh, um... I..." was all she managed to get out.

It stung. I felt like dying inside. 

Sure, I sort of been expecting a rejection -- though, my optimistic side won -- but I thought I could handle a short, simple, "Sorry, Harry, I can't." But this was far too long and painful. 

It felt like fire was scorching the insides of my chest.

I folded my hand together behind my back, each gripping the other as tightly.

Just then, I heard those words. 

And I wanted to scream and throw a fit like a child upon hearing them.

"I...goodness Harry, I didn't expect this, but...I'm really sorry..."

"I don't think I can, you're like a brother to me, so it might be kinda weird.."

Lips curling into the fakest smile I had ever mustered, I cocked my head to the side and said in a forced tone, 

"Ah is that so? Sorry for making you uncomfortable, Gin. I just thought...you know...I could take someone I'm familiar with so it wouldn't be so awkward. But I was wrong apparently, yeah?" 

"Harry-"

"I should be going." I dashed out of the room and hurried to dungeons for Potions.

11th August 1997

I sat in a corner of the Burrow's living room. Staring at the butterbeer in hand, I raised the mug and chugged it down, almost choking in the process.

Pathetic. Was one way to describe my current condition.

Here I was, like every year, invited to her birthday. It was her 16th birthday today. I had bought her the best broom money could buy, knowing her broom was already too out of fashion and slow compared to the ones her friends had.

I received a hug and a very chaste cheek kiss for it, and it made me feel like my life was complete. It was far from that, however. And truth to be told, just then, a young man not much older than the two of us, walked out of the kitchen.

The man looked scruffy, his jaw held messy stubbles, his shirt was all wrinkly and discoloured -- to which Harry almost scrunched his nose up in distaste -- his ears bore several earrings, which had immediately landed him on Harry's bad side.

I  watched how immediately snaked his arm around her waist, and offered a hand for me to shake.

I stared at it with disguised aversion. 

"I'm Harry."

"I know, the name's Matt," he said haughtily, blue eyes looked at me up and down in a leering manner.

I had to say, this whole situation gave off quite a deja vu, except the other time, it was Malfoy -- but now, I found the git much less irritating than the one in front of me, surprisingly enough -- I didn't think it was possible to find someone worse than him. Well, perhaps I shall consider inviting him over for tea.

"Well, nice to meet you, Matt," I said, strained through gritted teeth.

The bastard just looked at literally anything but me as he gave a simple "hmm" as a response.

"So, Harry... I've been wanting to tell you that-"

"I'm her boyfriend." Rude fucking bastard, even to his own girlfriend. It took almost everything in me not to snap and beat the daylights out of him and to shout at her for being together with a douche bloke like him, while she always had me by her side.

Sigh, what had she gotten herself into? I chewed the inside of my cheeks in exasperation.

Offering the pair a tight smile, I replied, "Ah, no wonder we hadn't been hanging out as often anymore then, Ginny." I might or might not have had the venom slipped out a bit. But I could not care less.

Sensing the tension, she looked helplessly at me, her eyes telling me to leave her and her new lover. So, I did. I was planning to do just that anyway. 

My poor heart could only take so much.

19th September 1997

I heard a banging against the door to my Head Boy's quarter. I just went out of the shower and with water still dripping from my hair, I opened the door.

A body crashed onto mine, sending us both to the floor. I fell with a thud, but couldn't find myself to pay a mind when I saw who the person was.

"Ginny? What... What happened?!" I tried to sit up, my elbows propped on my sides.

She was crying. Her tears wetted my pyjama shirt as she buried her face further into my midriff.

I stayed silent, giving her time to let it all out until she calmed herself enough to talk. Slowly, I raised my hand to caress her hair. I felt her relaxed against me.

Seeing her like this was...weird, peculiar, bizarre...the list ran long. She now didn't look like the girl I always look up to at all.

"H-harry...?" Her voice quavered, followed by another sniff. She sounded so pitiful, my heart pinched to see her like this. So vulnerable, so...unlike the person I have always known her to be.

She was fiery, bold, strong and tough...sometimes bossy... This didn't seem like her at all. 

My other hand balled against the wooden floor. Whoever made her like this...they wouldn't get away without a fight. 

"Ginny, what happened?" I spoke with the gentlest voice I could manage.

She broke into another fit of tears, trembling violently as her hands clutched my shirt. 

Moments passed without another word spoken. We sat on a couch near my bookshelves. 

I offered her tissues, which she quickly accepted to dab the tears snot from her blotchy face with.

She leaned back against the couch, her arms wrapped around herself, all curled up in a foetal position. 

I didn't know how to comfort her. This...I had never expected anything like this to occur, especially when it came to her. 

But a small part inside of me was happy that I was the one she chose to come to. To find comfort. ...But I quickly put those feelings aside for the moment and focused on the more important matter at hand.

"Harry I...I'm very sorry." A sob followed. "I didn't know where else to go... I just -- Merlin, this is embarrassing, I'm sorry you have to see me like this." 

Her voice was hoarse from all the crying, I conjured a cup of water and gave it to her.

"No, it's okay. I'm always here for you to tell me anything, you know that." I smiled weakly, hoping it was the right thing to say.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Harry, you're really the best-est friend I could ever wish for. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I swallowed back down a sigh. Even at this very moment, huh? She just had to.

"Hm... Still illiterate, I guess? You could read thanks to me, after all." I tried to lighten the mood. I winced at how terrible it came out.

She let out a weak chuckle, thankfully. 

Minutes went by in a slightly uncomfortable -- for my side, at least -- silence. Before she finally spoke out.

"He broke up with me." I frowned, so it was true.

My suspicions were confirmed.

"Oh, Ginny... I'm so sorry to hear that," I drawled, choosing my words carefully.

"No, no, it's okay," a big sigh escaped her throat. A dark look suddenly took over her face. "I don't want to date a two-cent whore anyway. Fucking caught him cheating behind my back with an ugly bint."

"Son of a bitch," she hissed spitefully. A slight shudder went through me -- I'd never seen her like that.

Sure, she wasn't a very soft-spoken person if I had ever seen one, but seeing her spoke with such malice -- I felt a little bothered. Though, I think I would have my fair share of unkind words too, had I been put in her shoes. I could understand her. 

I would and could always.

"Ginny..." 

"No, don't give me that look." She looked away avoiding my eyes. "I don't want pity. You should be happy for me instead that I'm not with a tosser like him anymore."

A pause fell over us both. She scoffed. "How could I've not seen it coming?" she then laughed in bitterness. 

"It was obvious, wasn't it?" A sneer formed on her face. 

I looked down on my lap, not knowing what to do.

"Now I see why Mother hates me seeing him so much." she furrowed her eyes, staring holes into the floor. 

"I should've listened."

I couldn't disagree more with that.

I let out a sigh as I wonder... 

When would be the day she finally look my way?

27th July 1998

Was the day I felt a bit of myself died inside once again. 

I still remembered -- crystal clear inside of my head, repeating itself like a broken tape -- what she said to me when we finally met again after the long vacation I had with my family in Greece to celebrate my graduation.

We sat in our favourite spot in the Three Broomstick, I didn't think I'd be back in Hogsmeade so soon again.

"So, Harry..."

Something about the way she talked seemed rather off, and my guts told me whatever she's about to say, it wasn't going to be pretty. 

And true to that. 

"So, there's this guy I've been seeing." She twirled her hair in a girly manner that she had never done before.

How I wished I was the one to bring out this new side of her that no one had yet seen.

Fuck it all.

The whole evening went by with her constantly talking about this lover boy that I didn't care about and wouldn't ever start to.

It was as if needles were pricking into my heart. I bit back tears. It was the longest hour of my life. 

My face was numb, so taut from all the facade I had to put on. Listening to my crush talking oh-so dreamily about her new lover wasn't exactly the best thing that could happen to me that day. 

I felt my heart cracking like glass being thrown to a wall, I wanted to cry and punch the wall -- but that wouldn't change a thing. If that wouldn't make her  jump into my arms and said how much she loved me, then I wouldn't bother.

 My hands clenched tightly against my jeans, shaking slightly as my nails dug into my palms to hold back my unnerved face from breaking.

I was her friend, after all. I had to be happy for her, look happy for her.

If a friend was all I get to be, then I might as well be a damn good one.

I still rue that blasted day until this very moment.

30th June 1999

Sigh, I remember cancelling my schedule for a meeting with a business acquaintance that day to be present on the day I looked forward so much, that I circled and drew on the calendar with a bunch of markers.

Mum sure did has a lot of fun teasing me about it.

It was Ginny's graduation day. From this day on, she would no longer be a student. I was more than happy to celebrate it alongside her.

With the three Weasley brothers, I snuck inside the packed Great Hall. We stood in a corner, heavy disillusionment charms cast upon us, making our presence undetectable and unknown.

Ginny walked up to the podium. Yeah, it appeared that she was really going to make her speech. Crazy twit, I thought she wasn't serious when she had told me about it the week before. 

I watched in awe as she carried herself with such passion and elegance as she spoke about her time in Hogwarts, how she was a little disheartened for it to come to an end. And how she thanked and apologised to the professors that they had to deal with her for 7 years long -- to which I heard the twins slipped out a snort behind me.

 Then, the ceremony finally reached its end. The entrance of the Great Hall was once again opened for the former students and their parents to take their leave. 

The Weasleys and I hurried past throng of people, completely undetected.

We waited at the gates, disillusionment charm stripped off of us for her and Mr and Mrs Weasley to see.

I conjured the flowers I'd bought earlier. They were roses, red ones -- her absolute favourite.

I stood there, a grin was wide on my face when I saw her and Mr and Mrs Weasley walking down the short flight of stairs.

Ron, Fred and George called for them, waving their hands up in the air silly. They didn't hear them, however.

Out of the blue and to my shock, a brunette man almost glomped her, taking her into his arms in a warm embrace. And kissed her.

All right before my eyes.

"Oh, bloody fucking hell..." I heard Ron muttered behind me. The twins followed suit, as they were aware of the feelings I harboured for their sister as well.

My face fell, it lost its huge grin. My hand that held the beautiful flowers lowered limply to my side.

A fresh tear trickled down my cheek. With a handkerchief from my breast pocket, I wiped it away.

I should be okay, I remember telling myself. 

This wasn't the first time, nor the second. It would never change, just face it. And as much as I just wanted to hand the flowers over to Ron for him to give her instead, I decided I shouldn't run away like the coward I was inside.

Keeping my creeping sorrow in check, I raised my head back up with a perfect, practised smile.

"Congratulations, Gin!" 

Thank Merlin that my voice didn't crack.

"Harry! You came!" she happily shouted as she ran a few feet towards me.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

I offered her the flowers. She almost squealed in delight upon seeing them. Her eyes widened in happiness, a small gasp escaping her lips.

"Roses!" 

No shite, Sherlock. I rolled my eyes in amusement.

"Oh my God, Harry, thank you! I love them!" she said, her bright brown eyes shown even brighter in contentment. Her lips curled up into a lovely smile as she sniffed in the flowers' aromatic scent.

How the slightest of her smiles could erase any of my pain just like that, I would never know.

"Uh, hello? We're here too, you know!" Ron narrowed his eyes at his sister.

"You heard something, Harry?" 

"Nope," I said while shrugging my shoulders, enjoying the moment while it lasts. That is, until before her boyfriend approached us, of course.

I hated it. I hated how he could so easily slide his arms around her from the back, resting his chin on top of her hair -- so affectionate, so...beautiful together. 

A lump rose in my throat. I wanted to vomit.

I smiled, albeit a little bitterly as I bid him a short "Hello", which he returned with the most genuine of smile.

I bit the inside of my cheeks. Maybe I should try getting rid of these petty feelings, I couldn't be hating everyone she dated. It's not like I had any say in that. 

And I probably should try to tolerate the bloke from now on. He seemed like a nice person, anyway. He might be good for her.

I shot the brunette a small smile when I caught him looking over.

...Even though he's not me.

Oh well, as petty as it  sounds, I thought that maybe she will get tired one day, you know? And then I'll be staying by her side like always, and she'll realise I was the one for her, after all. Just maybe... It didn't sound likely though if  I'm being honest.

But anyway...let's just see how it play out and maybe that could actually happen. 

A small voice at the farthest back of my mind whispered, "What if it doesn't turn out good for you... She'd never look your way, you know that..."

I sighed. My stomach churning a tad bit.

The only answer I could come up with was just to let her go. She looked  happy with him, anyway if not happiest. They could be perfect together, too, perhaps. And maybe...just maybe...I would be able to find someone else?

Sounded rather impossible, if you ask me. But who knows?

A grin curved my lips. 

"So, where are we going? It's on me!" Everyone cheered.

If she's happy, then maybe I could try to be, too.

16th February 2000

"Could this get even possibly be worst?" If that's what you're thinking, then yeah. Fuck, indeed.

This is not even the peak yet, kind of close to it, though, but anyway.

On a good February day in 2000, she and her not-boyfriend anymore got engaged.

I was sitting in the living room of my flat since I wanted to be independent and moved out of my family home a year back. 

I was flipping through a book of hexes and curses before suddenly the floo roared to life. A certain girl stepped out of the green flames, almost tripping in the process.

She rushed to my side on the couch. Her eyes shone so brightly, putting the sun to shame.

"What's up, Gin?" I asked.

Oh, this was all too familiar. I gulped nervously.

"You won't believe it, Harry!"

I raised an eyebrow, my stomach still slightly churning in a way. 

"Try me."

What she showed me next, I couldn't have prepared for.

"Eric proposed me-- ahh!!!" she squealed loudly, waving her left hand frantically.

The world stopped around. 

"What?" I croaked out, heartbroken.

Did I hear that right?

I caught her moving left hand, brought my face close to inspect the ring circling her ring finger.

I did hear that right, I answered myself in my head. I let my back fell against the couch, lips apart in incredulity.

Engaged... That one word echoed inside of my head. I just witnessed my world crumbled down to dust.

Tears pricked my eyes. I didn't even know of it, I was numb in shock and disbelief until a worried voice brought me out of it.

"Harry? Are you okay...? You're cryi-"

"Oh, no, no... This..." I paused. "I'm  just...so happy for you, Ginny." 

I felt like screaming. I wanted to destroy everything in sight.

"I'm happy for you."

I wanted to kill myself.

"You know, I can't believe someone actually wants to marry you."

Why couldn't it be me? 

I took off my glasses. Tears now running freely down my cheeks without restrain. I didn't even care if she was watching anymore. 

I couldn't bottle it up inside anymore. The dam finally burst. 

All years of me pining, yearning for the love I couldn't have, the pain I kept inside my heart as I fell asleep every night -- I couldn't hold them in any longer.

I wanted to yell at her, scream at her, for making me fall in love with her -- for being so beautiful, so kind to me, so...perfect.

She shouldn't have offered her hand to me in the first place! I wouldn't have been this way...

If it weren't for this stupid feeling... I-I could've been happier...

"Why couldn't I just see her in the way I knew she sees me?" I repeated the question over and over again.

I sobbed and wept. I felt so pathetic.

A few moments passed. The tears on my face had come to a stop, leaving wet trails behind that I now dabbed with tissue.

Forcing a weak smile on my face, I closed my eyes for a second before asking,

"So? Spill the tea, Gin."

A huge smile appeared on her face once again and quickly jumped into details, utterly convinced that what I just shed were tears of joy.

 A soft voice spoke inside of my head,

"If she's happy, then you should be too."

And so I listened very intently, hanging onto every words she said, nodding and smiling whenever she prompted for my agreement -- again, like the good friend I was.

 And I wished her a happy marriage as I watched her leave my flat.

I ran to my bathroom, closing the door behind me. I slumped down onto the floor, my face buried into my hands.

"Oh God..." a whimper echoed in the silent bathroom.

I hated this. I hated the fact she's going to get married to a guy that she didn't even know existed years ago. I hated the fact that the guy's not me. 

And I hated that I couldn't do anything about it.

I curled up in my bed crying that night.

I kept wondering why couldn't it be me to be the one that stands beside her. I often observed her lover from afar, trying to figure out what I did wrong, what of him that I didn't have.

He dressed nice. But I do, too! 

He seemed to care a lot about her. But I do too, even more, I believe!

He also smiled a lot, I noted. But then, I do as well! Hell, I smiled so much Ron often suspected I was doing muggle drugs.

"Just what is that he has that I don't?"

Whatever it was...I couldn't seem to figure it out, it's frustrating.

Then I cried myself to sleep.

Even in my dreams, I couldn't escape reality.

15th April 2000

It was rather late at night. Around 21:30, more precisely.

I leaned back on a chaise lounge. Here, I was, having the time of my life -- the best one in a while, that is -- in my living with a bowl of crisps while watching a comedy game show on tv.

All was nice and well, that was before an all too familiar otter Patronus went through the glass wall of my apartment. 

"Hermione?" I murmured. What matter could be of enough significance to inform me of this late at night?

The otter, looking as calm and collected as ever, was on the contrary of the voice that came out of its mouth.

"Harry! Oh my God..." Hermione's voice was drenched with fright, I almost didn't recognize it. A heart-wrenching sob cut off her words.

"G-ginny-- she and Eric... They-! They're in the hospital!" 

"What?" was the only thing that went through my mind.

No, that couldn't possibly be true... How did it-- No, this must be some weird joke the Twins are pulling off. This gotta be! I couldn't afford to lose her!

"Please hurry, Harry... We're at the St Mungo's..." another sob took over the voice message and then the otter was nowhere to be seen.

I just sat there stiffened, stoned to my seat as I went through what I just heard.

"What the hell happened?!" I ground my teeth, apprehensive.

She and Eric... Not longer than just two hours ago she told she was going to some wizard club in muggle London to celebrate her fiancé's successful business, but now...

Just what in the fucking world happened?!

I  stood up, spending no more time on my useless musing. I reached out a hand and expertly accio'ed my coat from its rack wandlessly. 

I hastened to my fireplace, rashly grabbing a handful of floo powder and spelt out a quick "St Mungo's" before I was engulfed in green fire and was in the said hospital in a blink of an eye.

I looked around, my pulse frantic beneath my skin. 

There, I spotted Hermione sitting alone with her face in her hands.

"Hermione! What happened?!" I asked her, the panic evident in my voice. My heart was pounding the way they had never before. 

Hermione looked up from her hands. She was in a just as unpresentable state of clothing as myself, wearing only a long nightgown with a denim jacket over. 

Her face at that moment was still fresh in my memory, I could never forget the tense look she had on her and the way she immediately jumped to hug me and fell into a heap of very hysterical crying.

She pulled away from the hug as fast as she had jumped into. She grasped my hand and led me into another wing.

We walked past many Healers and Mediwizards on our way to Merlin-knows-where. That was until when I caught a glimpse of a glowing red sign on top of the passage that read "Emergency  Room".

I felt cold sweat building up. No, no, no, no, no! I chanted like a mantra.

Hermione then took an abrupt turn to the right into a long corridor with a large door shut closed on the end.

I felt my face fell upon the sight of the Weasleys waiting in front of what appeared to be an operating room.

I went over to sat beside a crying Ron, his hunched over back rose and fell in sync with his sobs. I felt a pang of pity surged me over. Out of instinct, I circled my arms over his shoulders, my hand rubbed his back in a repeated motion. 

I looked away from him to the other Weasleys. "What happened?"

Mrs Weasley parted her mouth to respond only for her tears to swallow it down.  I looked over to Fred and George. Their teary eyes were downcast to the floor, not meeting mine.

And at last, Hermione, I looked over to her beside me. My eyes met hers demanding for an answer, the back of my eyes stung, fearing of what I would hear next.

Hermione shook her head, her handkerchief long forgotten as she stared right back at me. With a heavy heart I noted, her brown eyes had lost of their hope.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

Whatever happened... It couldn't be so bad, could it? What's the worst thing that could happen in a two-hour spa-

"She's gotten into a car crash!" she blurted out in a burst. 

My eyes went wide. "What?" I blinked. My hands clenched at my sides.

Hermione sobbed into her hands, a teardrop slipped her palms and ran down her wrist.

Rubbing at her eyes after she managed to calm herself enough, she let her hands fell to her skirt-clad thighs.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching the last of teardrops out before leaning back in her seat and forcing herself to take a slow, deep breath.

After a few calming minutes, she was finally set to a more detailed explanation.

"Half an hour ago...maybe, I don't know, just as I was about to head to bed... I-I heard a call," she sniffed, scrunching her eyes shut, forming thin lines of clear distress on her forehead.

I leaned forward, having her my full attention.

"And...?"

She pursed her lips. "It was from Ginny... But it wasn't her, it was a guy -- he told me t-that...that she and Eric had a car accident on their way back and t-that he called me...b-because I was on her favourites-!" another cry tore out from her once more.

I placed a hand on top of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Then... Then I flooed to the Burrow, took them here...and..."

Her jaw clenched tightly as she drew in yet another breath. "Harry, when we arrived...Ginny... She was dying, Harry." she said in a hushed tone, I almost didn't catch it.

My heart clenched painfully. I felt something wet landed on my hand. I was crying.

Hermione sniffed loudly behind her handkerchief, her voice shaky as she spoke, "Oh my God, Harry... Her, her face-! It was so bloody I almost didn't recognize her!" 

"No... You're joking..." I shook my head in denial. Because this couldn't be true... 

Getting run over by a Knight Bus would always be a better option over this. 

I sat still as stone, appalled and numb inside. 

"I wish I was -- Oh God, Oh God.." Hermione cried into her hands, her nails dug into her forehead.

I let my back fell against the backseat. I stared into nothing, it felt like all the air was sucked out of me.

What...just happened?

Tears broke free from my bleary eyes. I took my face into my hands. And prayed for the Gods to spare her life because I wouldn't know what I'd do without her.

An hour had passed. A click of the door brought our faces up demanding an answer from the furtive Healer. 

The bomb finally dropped.

"Our deepest apologies. We couldn't save her. She is now-" I sucked in a breath.

"-dead."

Sigh... I remember how many fights I put up that day, from hearing those words.

I lunged at the Healer, my feelings havoc as I swung a fist back and punched him square in the face. 

I also remember being held back by...I don't know, I was too busy cursing the Healer and his group of Mediwizards and wrestling to get out of whoever grasp it was.

I screamed bloody murder, yelling at the Healer for being so incompetent and telling him that he should just fucking quit his job and go fuck himself or something. Damn, was I harsh.

And later, I found myself forcefully dragged out of the hospital by security. 

That night, I vented all of it out. For the first time in fucking years.

All years of anguish and pain went unleashed. I travelled deep into the woods near our favourite hangout spot and went out cursing everything in my path. I screamed my lungs out for hours, as I'd always wanted to in the past years.

I screamed and screamed until my throat and lungs burned. But I didn't stop. I couldn't. I couldn't keep it inside any longer. 

Everything was just so wrong.

It shouldn't have to end like this. 

She should've been sleeping at home by now, safe and sound. Why did this have to happen?!

I shouted at the Gods up there. Mad that they had to take her away from me. And in such a horrible way.

She was supposed to get a happy ending. With or not with me.

She was just a month away from what could have been the happiest day of her life.

She should've gotten married to her beloved boyfriend, go on a honeymoon in France -- as she liked to dream about, have kids, grow old together... There's just so much that had been taken away.

I dropped to the ground, hands cupping both of my ears. "AHHHHHHHH!!!" A shrill shriek of agony tore through the quiet night.

I sat there, alone in the middle of nowhere. Chest heaving heavily from all the tantrums.

And with what's left of my energy, I disapparated.

22nd April 2000

It felt like...life wasn't worth living anymore.

I stood in the middle of the crowd unmoving, only keeping my eyes fixed upon the grey tombstone in front of all of us. The reason for the weeping crowd surrounding me.

I stared at it numbly. Dried tears traced along my cheeks.

A lump formed in my throat. I heaved a heavy sigh. 

A droplet of water landed on my cheek. Running down to my jaw.

I looked up. 

Grey clouds mantled the vast sky, leaving no traces of blue -- colourless. I let my head lolled back and stared long until a lens of my glasses caught another drop. A bitter smile curved my lips.

Fuck everything.

A tear leaked out my eye, dribbling down to my neck. 

I watched more drops of rain fell on us, I narrowed my eyes and a slight sneer formed on my lips.

Matching the mood, are we, Mother Nature?

I heard rustlings and muffled noises around me, making known of their departures. 

"Harry?" 

I turned to look at the person. It was Mum, Dad stood close behind. 

"Hm?" I raised an eyebrow -- letting her know of my disinterest in a conversation at the moment.

"Are you leaving?"

I stayed silent. "...Not just yet, Mum." 

She nodded. Father gave a squeeze to my shoulder before saying, "We'll be waiting," and turned to his wife.

They, along with the mourning Weasley family walked away. Going home, I presumed.

I stared at the gravestone. Rather uncannily, it somewhat felt like the gravestone was staring right back at me. 

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, 1981 - 2000. You will be missed," I read it inwardly.

It wasn't something I thought I would ever read in this lifetime, not so early. It was like a punch in the gut, only more painful.

I ground my teeth. My jaw clenched painfully.

"FUCKKK!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, almost drowned by the sound of the thunder striking.

"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU GOTTA LEAVE ME!! AGHHHH!!" I shouted at the unmoving gravestone as I would if I could see her for the last time.

I panted harshly, teeth clashed together and I scrunched up my face in frustration. 

I cried for what seemed to be the eleventh time that day. Salty tears mixing with the rain pouring down my shaking form.

I took a slow step forward, and then another until I stood right in front of her.

I sunk onto the ground, fingers digging into the dirt beneath me.

I let out a frustrated growl.

"We were supposed to be friends forever, right?" I looked at where she now resided as if expecting an answer from the lifeless gravestone.

A sob broke out from my throat. I croaked, "Why did you break your promise? This isn't like you."

Yeah, maybe I really was going mad. I couldn't care less, however.

"Fuck you," I said with lack of spite, my hands shielding my blotchy face from the world to see.

My tears flowed uncontrollable, like that of a powerful river stream -- I cried just like I did the day I was born.

Time seemed to went by quite fast.

The next thing I knew, I felt a presence standing behind me. I could tell it was my dad standing beside me with an umbrella in hand, sheltering us both from the heavy rain.

"Come on, you're not staying here forever, Harry." His eyes shone with sadness and concern.

I remained silent, staring back lifelessly at the gravestone.

"...Just a minute."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, before composing myself back up and stared down at her.

"Goodbye, Ginny." 

2nd September 2001

A twenty-one-year-old Harry Potter sat in a coffee shop, along with the company of a hot cup of his favourite coffee on the table in front of him. He hummed as he watched the steam flown about in the air.

It's been a year and four months since the funeral. 

Harry planned to pay her a visit this afternoon, not forgetting to bring her favourite flowers as well.

He ticked his nail against the ceramic cup absentmindedly as his mind wandered about what he should do next to spend his day off.

The doorbell of the shop chimed merrily, greeting yet another customer with high spirits.

Harry didn't look up, too occupied with admiring the steams of his hot coffee.

Just then after the chimes died down, a voice back from years ago, one that he knew all too well and never expected to hear again, was heard from in front of him.

"Potter," the voice drawled.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, knitted into one if possible.

A frown evident across his face, he looked up at his caller who was smirking down at him as he used to years ago.

What was the git doing in a muggle coffee shop? That Harry didn't know. Not that he was interested enough to ask.

"Malfoy."

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Yes-"

The snobbish Malfoy sat down anyway. It was pointless to answer, he knew that. 

The former Slytherin had always acted like the world was his own and that the beings other than himself weren't significant. Chances are that he hadn't changed from his younger self.

Not that that's possible anyway, Harry fought an urge to roll his eyes.

"Fancy meeting you here, Potter."

Can't say the same. "Likewise."

"So. How's it been going for you?" the blond man asked. 

Harry looked down, not wanting to meet the other's eyes. "Fine," he shrugged.

Malfoy gave a mere nod before calling for the waiter to order a cup of black coffee.

"How's your mother?"

"All right. Why do you care?" Harry winced inwardly, regretting how immediate and curt his response came out.

Though, one couldn't blame him for being defensive. Malfoy's never ran out of words regarding his opinion about muggleborns -- which his mother, Lily, was one of.

A frown dawned on Malfoy's pointy face. "Salazar, calm your tits, Potter. I was just trying to make a conversation."

Harry bit his lips. Maybe it was time to get past their petty schoolboy rivalry. It has been years since they graduated, after all.

A mere nod was his response. "Yeah, didn't mean it, sorry."

If Malfoy was taken aback, he didn't let it show. And Harry could hardly believe what he just heard himself saying.

Him, apologizing to his ex arch-nemesis, the very person that kept tormenting him and his friends in every opportunity -- the very person that made his school life often a living hell?

...So, where are the flying pigs, again? Harry believed it's finally time.

Malfoy raised his cup to his lips, taking a minuscule sip to taste and check the temperature.

"No need to apologize," was what he said. Although, Harry could see the tiny smirk behind his cup. Oh, the git was definitely taking pleasure in this. Bet he dreamed of this moment for years.

Harry swallowed down a gulp of his coffee, sweet and the littlest amount of bitterness just as he liked it.

Malfoy, with all his elegance and poise, leaned back in his chair and brushed his blond fringe with an elegant, slender hand.

A smirk, none of the snarky ones he used to display back then, adorned his aristocratic features. 

"Do tell, Potter, how's your relationship with Weaslette?"

Harry blanched at the mention.

"Finally asked her out yet? Or already married even?" he chuckled. "Oh, never mind, the Prophets would've gone bonkers if that were to take place."

Harry chewed the inside of his cheeks. He needed to calm himself, not that Malfoy would bring this up if he had known, right?

"Potter?" Malfoy asked with uncertainty colouring his voice when he didn't get the response he expected from the dark-haired man.

Harry clutched at the hem of his green hoodie.

"She's not here anymore, Malfoy," his voice escaped his lips in a mere whisper.

Malfoy didn't look fazed, as he was trying to figure what exactly that the other  had meant by his statement.

"She's dead." A pause.

The blond parted his lips, looking shocked in the slightest. As it was, undoubtedly, wasn't what he had expected to hear.

"Potter... I'm sorry to hear that, my condolences."  

I crossed my arms above my chess, my shoes were suddenly interesting objects to study.

"If you don't mind me asking," were the kindest of words Malfoy has never said to almost anyone ever, and certainly, not Harry Potter.

Harry looked up from his fallen bangs.

"When did she...?"

"Last year," was the brief answer to his question.

"...What happened to her?" the Malfoy heir asked, curious and looked somewhat sorry -- for a Malfoy that is, as insensitive as their kind are.

Harry shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable and wasn't in the mood to talk about it at the moment, nor at any other time at all.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have pushed it. It was just very...unforeseen, her death."

Harry pursed his lips and looked anywhere but the man he's sharing tables with.

They settled with a long silence. The most inconvenient five minutes of his life, Harry would say.

Harry turned to look out the glass window. Though, his eyes were rather preoccupied than actually admiring the street view.

A slight movement from the other man caught his eye. 

"How's business, Potter?" the posh voice asked. Harry looked over and met Malfoy's glinting grey eyes with his rather dull and bored ones.

"Great." 

"Are you dating someone, by any chance?" Nosy prick.

"No."

"Are you going to be launching a new broom?"

"No." Yes.

Malfoy forced a tight smile, getting quite bothered by the one-word answers the dark-haired man seemed to prefer giving him.

"If you don't want to talk, then fine! Tsk, I don't prefer talking to walls, anyway."

"You're still talking."

Malfoy tutted his tongue. "You son of a-! ...stupid bloody holier-than-thou bastard."

Harry whipped his head so fast he almost killed himself by getting his neck snapped. 

"Prissy git," Harry hissed, his eyes flashed dangerously as they narrowed to slits -- Malfoy's a dead meat had looks alone could kill.

"Homeless looking moron." Malfoy's eyes flickered in distaste at Harry's jeans and hoodie.

"Fucking wanker."

"Saint Potter."

"A little overused, don't you think?"

"At least I'm capable of something original, unlike some people," Malfoy sneered -- a sight too familiar from their school days.

It continued. Each throwing trains of insults at the other, they kept it going for Merlin-knows-how-long until the inevitable happened.

"Gentlemen, my apologies to interrupt your...conversation. But as for our other customers' convenience, it'll be very appreciated for you to tone it down, or we'll have to call the securi-"

"No, no, there's no necessity for that! We'll keep it down, no worries." Malfoy flashed the fakest, falsest -- if that's even a word -- smile Harry had ever seen.

Though, his charm seemed to work very effortlessly as the stoic looking young lady melted under his gaze and walked away with a disgusting blush and giggle.

Malfoy turned back to his former rival.

"What are you looking at? I know I'm extremely attractive, but do be less subtle the next time, all right? Kind of rude to stare."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"As if I was staring- What?" Harry's eyes went wide upon noticing something.

The tiniest tinges of pink were spotted on Malfoy's cheek, and the blond was suddenly so busy examining his perfect nails.

"Next time...?"

Malfoy scoffed half-heartedly. "What are you, deaf? Huh. Not only you are blind, you're deaf as well, apparently. Merlin's beard, your life is so hard."

"Malfoy."

Malfoy visibly bit down on his lips. Harry caught himself almost staring again.

A sigh went past through his cupid bow lips. And with sudden determination swarming in his grey eyes, he turned to face the confused, oblivious, dense, green-eyed ravenette.

"Are you free next Saturday?" 

Harry was quite taken aback, not seeing that coming, obviously. "Um... Yes? Why do you ask?"

"You're so fucking dense, it's unbelievable!" Malfoy looked at him, exasperated. He looked like he was about to rip his hair. That wasn't possible, however, given the amount of love and fondness he held towards his luscious blond hair.

"Then tell me wh-"

"I'm asking you out! Do you want to or not?!"

Harry blinked. His lips slightly parted but emitted no sound.

Oh.

Seconds passed without words spoken. Not that Malfoy minded, he was rather enjoying the look on Harry's face. 

Cheeks red enough it put the existence of all tomatoes to shame, his pink lips agape like that of a fish, and with those forest green eyes as wide as the beautiful saucers his mother liked to collect.

This was too good.

"Don't leave me yet, Potter. I haven't got my answer."

Harry snapped out of his trance. Slapping the hand waving inches away from his face.

"Ouch. How feisty...kinda like that."

Harry glowered, though he doubted his face looked the slightest threatening at the moment. Just as he was about to spat some unpleasant words at the stuck up blond, he was cut off with an impatient,

"So, what do you say?! If no, then just say it. This is embarrassing, damn it!" 

Harry looked down at the now empty cup of coffee, thoughts running through his head like wildfire.

Could it be okay if he decided to go on a...date with Malfoy? Could they even get along enough to go on a decent date without killing each other before it ended?

"You know what? Fine, I'm leaving." 

Malfoy stood up from his seat, throwing his overcoat over his broad shoulders without actually wearing it. He picked up his leftover coffee and turned around to leave.

Finally coming down to a decision, Harry stood so abruptly that he almost knocked over his chair.

"Wait!" Harry's voice stopped him in his tracks.

Harry noticed the stares people gave him, and silently cursed himself for not being able to answer Malfoy faster.

"Yes, I will go on a...da-te with you." The word date sounded so foreign in his tongue, as he was too busy pining after her back then to go on a date with someone else.

A smirk graced the former blond Slytherin's face, only it didn't hold any animosity like it used to.

His smirk was rather that of amusement. And Harry could only imagine how he looked like.

"As I had expected, no one could refuse a Malfoy, after a- shite." 

The blond turned his face away, reminded of his hand being rejected by the now wickedly smiling Gryffindor and how dramatically he coped with it and the fact that he was probably the first-ever Malfoy to have received a 'no' as an answer.

Malfoy, or Draco now, walked back to Harry and very smoothly, took Harry's hand in his and wrote his floo network address on the palm of his hand. The ink from the muggle pen was a fine contrast on Harry's pale skin. 

Draco felt satisfaction washed over him upon the sight of it -- it felt almost like he was marking the Boy Who Lived as his own.

Placing the pen down on the table, Draco smirked and said "I shall inform of our date soon enough, just wait for my call."

And carrying himself very gracefully, Draco turned on his heels with a last word of departure, "Until next we meet, Potter."

Harry plopped down onto his seat. Not believing what he had just agreed on. 

A date with Malfoy...

Not sure why, but a small smile made its way onto his face.

Perhaps that could be interesting. 

Harry decided he was looking forward to next week, as he sat glued on his chair staring at particularly nothing for a few moments, a stupid smile resided on his face all the while. Before he eventually got up and made his way out of the shop to visit his childhood friend and first love.

Maybe a new door had just opened.

Who knows?

-- The End --

Note(s):

Sequel? Share your thoughts.

Update:

Sequel out, folks! My friend wouldn't stop nagging me about it. ('A Date with Malfoy')