The Difference Between Fantasies and Reality

Diary Entry: November 16th

How long did it last, you ask?

The love I had for you? It hasn't ended yet. But was I the one to let you know about my love for you? I couldn't be.

The first time I laid eyes on you, I knew. It wasn't just because you were famous. It was because of the way you looked at me that first time. You don't remember that look, do you? Perhaps you were just so nervous. But I remember.

That first time you looked at me was the first time I ever remember looking at someone like that. You had the features and the kindness in your eyes that no red-haired person could produce. Your black hair, your tan, smooth skin... it seemed a surprise Hermione didn't jump all over you.

But then, why would she, when she was so clearly smitten with my brother? Yes... she's told me about how she loves the way she and my brother fight, typical. But you... you were the one I loved since I first saw you.

I remember sitting in my room for countless months, thinking of the time when I first saw you at Kings Cross, clumsily pulling your trunk behind you. Oh, how I wanted to go with you! I was reduced to laying in bed, replaying the memory of you at the station: how I first saw your piercing green eyes... the eyes I couldn't forget.

It came as quite a surprise to see you again, just a year older, sitting at my very own table. Oh, how you had changed since I'd seen you last! I was horrified. Not at the fact that you were there, but the fact that if you looked at me, you could see my every thought, my every fantasy...

So I avoided you. Why, I wonder this, when I could have easily just sat down next to you, and made conversation like everyone else was. But I had plenty of time. I was, in fact, going to Hogwarts...

But that's exactly when I made a horrible mistake. I found a mysterious diary in one of my schoolbooks. Old and battered though it was; I had a friend. I could tell Tom anything. He seemed to understand how I felt about you. I guess I was wrong; I was, unfortunately, a naive eleven-year-old girl. My feelings never wavered for you, even though I tried my hardest to forget about you.

I spent most of my second-year crying in my dormitory, only to stifling my sobs when my roommates were in earshot. I studied your every move, only to find out that you were smitten with Cho. Oh, how that girl didn't deserve you. How dare she prance around with her little friends? But I knew why I was jealous. You liked her and not me; what a jealous twelve-year-old child I had become.

But I was no longer a child when I walked into those castle doors for my third year. My love for you had only intensified for the past three years, but I was ready. I was ready to show everyone that you were just a thing of the past. Hermione knew how I felt. Ron knew how I felt. Even you knew how I felt, but I was ready to show everyone that you were just a childhood crush.

Neville asked me to the Yule Ball; and here was my chance. I said yes, not realizing the consequences of injured toes and feet, as Neville was terribly clumsy, and couldn't dance to save his life. But then I discovered that you didn't have a date. What a fool I was to accept Neville's request! But I had a promise, and I couldn't break it. I went to the Yule Ball with Neville, screaming in my head that there had better be another ball soon, because if there was, I would be the very first in line to ask you, even if there was no line.

Very soon I became a fiery fourteen-year-old, attracting attention from all sorts of boys. No one knew this except Hermione. She was very quiet about my boyfriends, careful not to mention anything to Ron, or worse, you. Hermione still knew I liked you, even with my desperate attempts to shut you out. But Hermione wasn't exactly stupid, was she? But my boyfriends were just, well, fill-ins. They would never be you, and I knew I would never have feelings for them quite the same as the feelings I had (and still have) for you.

I can never quite forget the moment you made my dreams come true, though. In the summer of your fifth year (my fourth year), I finally confessed. I confessed everything I had ever felt and thought. I spilled my heart out to you. I cried into your arms for endless minutes, sobbing "I love you! I love you!" into your shoulder.

That's when I heard you say, "I love you too, Ginny Weasley."

I looked up in your green eyes to find tears swimming in them. Then, you kissed me. You had finally done it. After dreaming about it, thinking about it, fantasizing for hours at a time, you had finally done it. It was the sweetest thing I had ever felt. Everything around me disappeared; the only thing I could feel was my lips against yours. I was the happiest I had ever felt in my life, and nothing could spoil my happy moments. My dreams had come true.

But my happiness soon turned into fear. The threat of You-Know-Who had increased dramatically in the past months, and even though Hogwarts was safe, you were not. You had to control your feelings, study Occlumency, learn the most effective defense spells, even study the Unforgivable Curses to thwart You-Know-Who, for you were to kill or be killed. That's what frightened me the most. I finally had you; I didn't want to lose you.

You were there only some of the time; other times you were off with Dumbledore studying Occlumency, off with McGonagall studying Defense Against the Dark Arts, off with Mad-Eye Moody studying the Unforgivable Curses, and to top it all off, you had apparition lessons. I knew you needed the studying but oh, how I missed you so! I sat alone most of the days, other days studying with Hermione. After all, I did have O.W.L.s, as Hermione constantly reminded me.

The time had finally come for your first attempt to vanquish You-Know-Who. I was terrified. He was more protected than ever, by all of his Death Eaters, most of the giants, and the Dementors. How you were going to get past them I didn't know. Your first attempt failed; you narrowly escaped death by Bellatrix Lestrange. You finally avenged Sirius's death, though. You used the Avada Kedavra curse on Bellatrix and finally gave her what she deserved.

The summer of your sixth year (my fifth year) you had to hide in Grimmauld Place. You-Know-Who couldn't touch you on Privet Drive, but his followers could. I was glad to hear that my family would be staying there with you, to keep you company. It was there that I got to spend time with you. It was such an amazing summer. Even though we could not go outdoors, we were still happy.

I remember the day you left for Auror training. It was a sad day for me. You had graduated from Hogwarts with top marks (with help of McGonagall, of course), and headed out to train for becoming an Auror. I was in my seventh and final year, my first year being alone, without all my real friends. You went with me to Kings Cross... I remember that day so well. You gave me an engagement ring, and you told me that you would come back for me. I trusted you, I believed you. I was so happy that you were going to marry me! You promised me marriage!

So I spent the year at Hogwarts, alone, with Luna as my company. She was the only company I had left. I would look up every morning at the wave of owls flooding into the Great Hall, expecting the beautiful snow-white owl to swoop down and hand me a letter, but I never got one. Not one letter I had received from you.

I graduated Hogwarts successfully and went back to the Burrow to celebrate, but you weren't there. I went to Grimmauld Place, but you weren't there. No one had heard from you. No one had any clue on where you were.

Why did you leave me, Harry Potter? You promised you would come back to me. You promised you would defeat You-Know-You and come back to get me. Why did you let You-Know-Who kill you?

A teardrop fell from my cheek and onto my paper, blurring the word "Promised". That's what it was, I guess, just a blur, just a simple memory of my past. Harry Potter was no more.

I still wore his ring. I wore that pure gold ring that he promised me marriage with. To this day I still wonder if he's still alive, but he would have come back to me now. He kept me waiting for five years.

I heard a faint knocking somewhere downstairs. I ignored it. After about a minute, the knocking became clearer. Sighing, I put down my quill, walked down my stairs, and looked out my window.

There was a hooded person outside. The hooded person wore a tattered old cloak, bloodstained and soaking wet from the pouring rain. Not another homeless wizard! They kept coming 'round, and it was driving me mad. I even had myself a speech.

I opened the door, and said clearly, "Please dear sir, I am not sheltering..."

But this person was not a homeless wizard. As the wizard pulled back his hood, I realized that this wizard was loved by many. This person was now a man, with familiar deep green eyes, messy black hair...

"I told you I would come back for you, Ginny."