I wish that all of it had been a dream.

When I was just a little schoolgirl with a little schoolgirl crush, I always dreamed about him. I would wake up feeling distinctly disgruntled and wanting to slip back into my dream world. We had fun, in my dreams. Not in real life, but in my dreams.

No, I didn’t have sex dreams when I was twelve and thirteen years old. Sometimes he would kiss me, but mostly we would just have fun. Laugh together, and just hang out with each other. Also know as, having fun.

I thought that the dreams would have stopped once I started dating other guys, but they didn’t. My dreams of him kept coming and coming. To tell the truth, I didn’t want them to stop. I needed him, and in my dreams was the only way I could have him.

In fourth year, sometimes I would have dreams where I was with him, and then I actually woke up thinking that we were dating instead of Michael and me. I usually came back to my senses pretty quickly, but one day when I woke up getting ready to go to Hogsmeade, I expected to see his smiling face awaiting me in the Entrance Hall instead of Michael’s. Instead I saw him meeting Cho Chang and then going off with her.

I suddenly felt a burst of hatred towards Cho. She didn’t deserve him. They were just going out because Cho was on the rebound. She didn’t like him like I did.

Suddenly something hit me.

I had got over my schoolgirl crush.

I was in love with him.

I told a very confused Michael that I wasn’t up to going out that day. I told him that I was having womanly issues, and he backed off right away. I spent the entire day in my bed, thinking.

If I loved him now, then it was probably too late. He probably was Cho’s boyfriend and I would never get another chance.

A little voice spoke up inside me. It told me that one day, I would get my chance. I would get a chance to be in his arms and kiss him. I’m not sure that I believed it, but it was a little glimmer of hope.

So that was my hope for a little over one more year. I dumped that stupid prat Michael after he got too annoying to handle, and then I met Dean Thomas.

Dean was no…him. He wasn’t as brave and he wasn’t as interesting. He was very, very nice and I fancied him just a bit. When he asked me out, I said yes. It was because for some reason, I could feel him getting closer to me. Over the summer, I could see that he became used to my presence. When I told him that I was meeting Dean on the train, I did see that little flicker of annoyance that passed over his face. I thought that it was a trick of the light at the time, but now I know better.

So I dated Dean. He was nice. He fancied me more than I did him, so he practically worshipped the ground I walked on. I tried to return his niceness, and we had a good time together.

When Ron and…he saw me kissing Dean in the corridor, I saw his look of rage out of the corner of my eye. I was really happy and the dreams of him, which had stopped, came back. I remember waking up and feeling very disgruntled that I wasn’t really in my dream world.

Over Christmas, he was very fun to be around. He laughed at my jokes about Phlegm and Won-Won. I caught him looking at me a few times and that heightened my spirits even more.

When I came back to school, Dean became a lot less appealing now that I knew he liked me. I looked for reasons to break up with Dean but nothing came until much, much later.

The night we split up, he was trying to help me through the portrait hole. I don’t really know what came over me, I’d just had enough. I was done with Dean Thomas. I wanted it to be over.

He started getting pretty happy after the breakup. I caught him looking at me more and more, until after the match he kissed me right there, in front of everyone. We went out to the lake and spent a good hour making up for lost time.

Those were the happiest weeks of my life. I loved finally having him, after all those years of waiting. I could call him mine. He belonged to me, and no one else.

I would have gotten much more snogging done if it wasn’t for Ron. He would eye us suspiciously whenever we got up to go to the lakeside and ask loudly what we were going to do. I would blush furiously, but he would totally play it cool. He would smile mischievously and ask Ron if he would really like to know. It would then be Ron’s turn to blush and we would be on our way.

We had a great deal of…fun down by the lake. I mean, we didn’t do too much, but I certainly thought that he was a much, much better kisser than Michael or Dean ever was. Also, I loved him, so that was better, too.

Alas, I had my O.W.L’s that year. I never had as much time with him as I wanted. I could have snogged him in the common room if Ron hadn’t been such a filthy hypocrite. “I don’t want to see my baby sister doing that stuff,” he would say. I wanted to kill him.

We didn’t do anything scandalous down by the lake. We just kissed. Not innocently, but we didn’t cross too many lines.

It was like a dream, dating him. I loved him so much and we were finally together. He was mine. It was my dream world, but it was finally real. I had him.

But, as they say, nothing last forever. And it seems that only good things don’t last forever.

His stupid nobility prevented us from staying together. He talked all about how we couldn’t be together because of Voldemort. He said that Voldemort would use me to get to him. I guess that I understand…even though I don’t want to. Of course I don’t want to. Why would I? I don’t want to break up with the man that I love. I wanted to grab him and scream “Don’t you love me” and kiss him again. He should have understood how much I needed him, how much I need him right at this very moment. How now, I can’t survive without the touch and taste of him. His lips are like candy.

I could always sic my brothers on him. They would beat him into a bloody pulp if they knew that he broke my heart. But would that do besides causing him bodily harm?

Well, that could work. I want him to feel as much pain as I did.

But he still wouldn’t reconsider.

And I guess that’s just too bad.

I want to want all of it to be a dream. I just want to wake up from sleeping in an armchair by the fire in the common room after the final match. Maybe he would have done something else so a different chain of events happened.

So he I wouldn’t feel the agony of him breaking up with me.

I wouldn’t have had to feel all this pain. I wouldn’t mind if Voldemort was still back, I just want him to be with me. I want to be his one and only. I want to fight alongside him.

I don’t want to feel this pain. The pain is so intense that I want to be someone else. I plan to spend the time until he comes back to me curled up in my bed, sobbing my heart out. There’s nothing else to. I no longer have anyone to love. My love for him is so intense that when I don’t have him, I can’t say or even think his name without feeling like dying. I didn’t have him for a long, long time before this, but now that I’ve had him, I crave and crave for more.

I keep my eyes closed every morning when I wake up. I hope that it really is just a dream. I’ll wake up to find a different life. Not this one. Any life but this one. Any life that both me and him are happily married, or that we haven’t started dating yet. I just was to see something different when I wake up. I want to be someone else. I want a different life.

Just any life but this one.

Maybe it’s all just a nightmare. Maybe I’ll wake up to find neither Ron nor I have gone to Hogwarts yet. Maybe Voldemort is really dead. In my dream, he’ll never come back, and everyone knows it. I’ll be meeting Harry Potter in a couple of years, when I go to Hogwarts. When I meet him, I’ll be cool, calm, and collected, and we’ll start dating a lot sooner.

But it’s no dream. It’s reality.

And there’s no waking up from this nightmare.



So that was my hope for a little over one more year. I dumped that stupid prat Michael after he got too annoying to handle, and then I met Dean Thomas.

Dean was no…well, him. He wasn’t as brave and he wasn’t as interesting. He was very, very nice and I fancied him just a bit. When he asked me out, I said yes. It was because for some reason, I could feel him getting closer to me. Over the summer, I could see that he became used to my presence. When I told him that I was meeting Dean on the train, I did see that little flicker of annoyance that passed over his face. I thought that it was a trick of the light at the time, but now I know better.

So I dated Dean. He was nice. He fancied me more than I did him, so he practically worshipped the ground I walked on. I tried to return his niceness, and we had a good time together.

When Ron and…he saw me kissing Dean in the corridor, I saw his look of rage out of the corner of my eye. I was really happy and the dreams of him, which had stopped, came back. I remember waking up and feeling very disgruntled that I wasn’t really in my dream world.

Over Christmas, he was very fun to be around. He laughed at my jokes about Phlegm and Won-Won. I caught him looking at me a few times and that heightened my spirits even more.

When I came back to school, Dean became a lot less appealing now that I knew he liked me. I looked for reasons to break up with Dean but nothing came until much, much later.

The night we split up, he was trying to help me through the portrait hole. I don’t really know what came over me, I’d just had enough. I was done with Dean Thomas. I wanted it to be over.

He started getting pretty happy after the breakup. I caught him looking at me more and more, until after the match he kissed me right there, in front of everyone. We went out to the lake and spent a good hour making up for lost time.

Those were the happiest weeks of my life. I loved finally having him, after all those years of waiting. I could call him mine.

I would have gotten much more snogging done if it wasn’t for Ron. He would eye us suspiciously whenever we got up to go to the lakeside and ask loudly what we were going to do. I would blush furiously, but he would totally play it cool. He would smile mischievously and ask Ron if he would really like to know. It would then be Ron’s turn to blush and we would be on our way.

We had a great deal of…fun down by the lake. I mean, we didn’t do too much, but I certainly thought that he was a much, much better kisser than Michael or Dean ever was. Also, I loved him, so that was better, too.

Alas, I had my O.W.L’s that year. I never had as much time with him as I wanted. I could have snogged him in the common room if Ron hadn’t been such a filthy hypocrite. “I don’t want to see my baby sister doing that stuff,” he would say. I wanted to kill him.

We didn’t do anything scandalous down by the lake. We just kissed. Not innocently, but we didn’t cross too many lines.

It was like a dream, dating him. I loved him so much and we were finally together. He was mine.

But, as they say, nothing last forever. And it seems that only good things don’t last forever.

His stupid nobility prevented us from staying together. He talked all about how we couldn’t be together because of Voldemort. He said that Voldemort would use me to get to him. I guess that I understand…even though I don’t want to. Of course I don’t want to. Why would I? I don’t want to break up with the man that I love. I could always sic my brothers on him, but what good would that do besides causing him bodily harm?

Well, that could work. I want him to feel as much pain as I did.

But he still wouldn’t reconsider.

And I guess that’s just too bad.

I want to want all of it to be a dream. I just want to wake up from sleeping in an armchair by the fire in the common room after the final match. Maybe he would have done something else so a different chain of events happened.

So he I wouldn’t feel the agony of him breaking up with me.

I wouldn’t have had to feel all this pain. I wouldn’t mind if Voldemort was still back, I just want him to be with me. I want to be his one and only. I want to fight alongside him.

I don’t want to feel this pain. The pain is so intense that I want to be someone else. I plan to spend the time until he comes back to me curled up in my bed, sobbing my heart out. There’s nothing else to. I no longer have anyone to love. My love for him is so intense that when I don’t have him, I can’t say or even think his name without feeling like dying. I didn’t have him for a long, long time before this, but now that I’ve had him, I crave and crave for more.

I keep my eyes closed every morning when I wake up. I hope that it really is just a dream. I’ll wake up to find a different life. Not this one. Any life but this one. Any life that both me and him are happily married, or that we haven’t started dating yet.

Just any life but this one.

Maybe it’s all just a nightmare. Maybe I’ll wake up to find neither me nor Ron has gone to Hogwarts yet. Maybe Voldemort is really dead. In my dream, he’ll never come back, and everyone knows it. I’ll be meeting Harry Potter in a couple of years, when I go to Hogwarts. When I meet him, I’ll be cool, calm, and collected, and we’ll start dating a lot sooner.

But it’s no dream. It’s reality.

And there’s no waking up from this nightmare.