Your hand clasped in mine
With a grip soft and strong,
Makes me admit that I love you.
But I know that it's wrong.

A soft, slight brush -
Your lips against my cheek.
Your affectionate kiss;
My knees are weak.

The briefest touch
Provokes such feeling!
A gentle graze;
My thoughts are reeling...

You love me as a friend,
But I want something more;
Your casual embraces
Stab my heart to the core.

"Are you alright, Gin?"
He asks me, green eyes filled with concern.
"What? Of course! Silly question!"
My secret anguish returns.

Forget how you feel, and be content! Reason cries;
But how can I do that?
Natural love
It belies.

I had resolved to forget him.
Still, inside I am aching.
Oh, dear Harry!
Can't you see that my heart is breaking?

It is small consolation,
That he sha'n't ever guess.
My smile is bitter.

I will never confess.

---

A/N: Her silence is all the more excruciating because Harry seems to sense nothing of her pain - but mightn't he harbor a secret of his own?