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Love, they say, is unstoppable. A bond never to be broken between two people. Usually love is mutual, but some times you don't find that out until it's too late.
I was in love with her. Her fiery-red hair, her honey-brown eyes, her freckle-dusted nose, and her beautiful smile. For years, I pined for her, wishing that I could be the one to hold her, share her joy, comfort her and wipe away her tears, though I caused my fair share of those tears. It was childish and stupid, how I treated her. One of my many regrets. I watched from afar, knowing that all the guys I saw her with would never be good enough. "She is a princess, and should be treated as such" I recall saying to myself, "Potter can't treat her the way I can." He couldn't. She didn't know how good she could have had it. But I still loved her.
And I left school, went on with my life, and thought about her everyday of my life. Not a day went by that I didn't think 'What if...?' What if I had only told her that I loved her?
I would have been disowned by my house and family, and that is a risk I wasn't willing to take. Now I wish I had, because no matter how many people would or disown me, there would still be a chance at happiness with a red-haired angel that I can't have now. Why? Because I'm a Slytherin, which is a synonym for cowardly snake. What I grew up with, I found questioning when I thought of her. A whole new set of right and wrong; appropriate and not, which I readily accepted. I changed myself for her, and she hated me too much to notice, or so I thought.
When the time came for war and showing of true colors, I was on her side, a spy for Dumbledore. And she noticed, but just barely. What with the deaths of Potter, killed by my horrid Aunt Bellatrix, and her brother Percy. He was brutally murdered after joining the Death Eaters, but then tryed to back out when the time came to kill innocent people. She seemed to be a shell of her former, beautiful self.
Her eyes were no longer as bright, and no smile played across her now cracked and bleeding lips. Her hair was a vibrant as ever, but it was somewhat lack-luster. She couldn't have cared less. It all hurt her so much that she didn't care who said what, how she looked, or what happened to her. In fact, even though she continued to take part in battle, she always went out hoping not to return. But always came back, always resenting the fact that she was still here, wishing for death to come for her.
One day, she got her wish.
She was hit right in the chest with a spell. I came over to help her, to keep her from slipping away, something she wanted to do so badly.
"Don't go Ginny," I pleaded. "Stay here. you have so much to live for."
"Yeah, sure. I have a war to fight and eight or nine graves of friends and family to visit, plus countless others that haven't yet been found. I can't go on like this."
"You can't die right here, not right now." I begged for her to hold on to her life for a little longer.
"Why not? It's what I want." She looked at me defiantly.
" Because I love you. I never told you before because I thought that you hated me. I always have and always will, no matter what. I love everything about you, and you have to stay with us because you are my reason for living."
I looked down at her as she began to cry and grow paler and paler. "I was so in love with you, but never in a million years did I think that you would feel the same. She coughed and blood came to her beautiful lips.
" I love you so much." I said, tears running down my face and landing on her chest as I held her.
Taking her last breath, she whispered in my ear the words I have wanted to hear her say for years:
"I love you...I always will."
She died in my arms, and I had never cried in my life up until that night. I will remember that night for all of time.
I cried for her all the time, but soon I ran out of tears. The pain I used to feel, that was so intense, has left me numb. My regrets will haunt me until the day I die, and the more I think about that day, the more I wish for it to come soon, and think of how sweet it will be.
I was in love with her. Her fiery-red hair, her honey-brown eyes, her freckle-dusted nose, and her beautiful smile. For years, I pined for her, wishing that I could be the one to hold her, share her joy, comfort her and wipe away her tears, though I caused my fair share of those tears. It was childish and stupid, how I treated her. One of my many regrets. I watched from afar, knowing that all the guys I saw her with would never be good enough. "She is a princess, and should be treated as such" I recall saying to myself, "Potter can't treat her the way I can." He couldn't. She didn't know how good she could have had it. But I still loved her.
And I left school, went on with my life, and thought about her everyday of my life. Not a day went by that I didn't think 'What if...?' What if I had only told her that I loved her?
I would have been disowned by my house and family, and that is a risk I wasn't willing to take. Now I wish I had, because no matter how many people would or disown me, there would still be a chance at happiness with a red-haired angel that I can't have now. Why? Because I'm a Slytherin, which is a synonym for cowardly snake. What I grew up with, I found questioning when I thought of her. A whole new set of right and wrong; appropriate and not, which I readily accepted. I changed myself for her, and she hated me too much to notice, or so I thought.
When the time came for war and showing of true colors, I was on her side, a spy for Dumbledore. And she noticed, but just barely. What with the deaths of Potter, killed by my horrid Aunt Bellatrix, and her brother Percy. He was brutally murdered after joining the Death Eaters, but then tryed to back out when the time came to kill innocent people. She seemed to be a shell of her former, beautiful self.
Her eyes were no longer as bright, and no smile played across her now cracked and bleeding lips. Her hair was a vibrant as ever, but it was somewhat lack-luster. She couldn't have cared less. It all hurt her so much that she didn't care who said what, how she looked, or what happened to her. In fact, even though she continued to take part in battle, she always went out hoping not to return. But always came back, always resenting the fact that she was still here, wishing for death to come for her.
One day, she got her wish.
She was hit right in the chest with a spell. I came over to help her, to keep her from slipping away, something she wanted to do so badly.
"Don't go Ginny," I pleaded. "Stay here. you have so much to live for."
"Yeah, sure. I have a war to fight and eight or nine graves of friends and family to visit, plus countless others that haven't yet been found. I can't go on like this."
"You can't die right here, not right now." I begged for her to hold on to her life for a little longer.
"Why not? It's what I want." She looked at me defiantly.
" Because I love you. I never told you before because I thought that you hated me. I always have and always will, no matter what. I love everything about you, and you have to stay with us because you are my reason for living."
I looked down at her as she began to cry and grow paler and paler. "I was so in love with you, but never in a million years did I think that you would feel the same. She coughed and blood came to her beautiful lips.
" I love you so much." I said, tears running down my face and landing on her chest as I held her.
Taking her last breath, she whispered in my ear the words I have wanted to hear her say for years:
"I love you...I always will."
She died in my arms, and I had never cried in my life up until that night. I will remember that night for all of time.
I cried for her all the time, but soon I ran out of tears. The pain I used to feel, that was so intense, has left me numb. My regrets will haunt me until the day I die, and the more I think about that day, the more I wish for it to come soon, and think of how sweet it will be.
To Be Continued.
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