Idol

Idol

She was never the only one who liked him. He was famous, their savior, and many little girls' heartthrob, even if it was only because he was everything but worshipped. She was just one of the few who were lucky enough to actually touch him.

It really was mad adoration and infatuation at first because he was the Great Harry Potter, and he was best friends with her brother. What more could a girl want? She never took it to heart that he didn't really see her because being in his presence was enough for her, at least then.

Then, one day, she looked at him, and she asked herself, Why him? Maybe he was famous, with that scar on his forehead, but what else was he? He wasn't particularly good-looking or very studious; he was brash and really only good at Quidditch, and she thought that she really wanted something more than a famous athlete-hero. She wanted someone who didn't have to drop her for the world; she didn't want to be second best in her lover's mind. She wanted someone who would cherish her and be glad to see her when he came home, someone who was kind of smart and charming and had some special talent or trait that would define him, not someone whose entire existence revolved around battles and being a hero.

Michael had been very sweet to her. He absolutely adored her, giving her some small token everytime he went out with her on a date, something that wasn't really expensive but was heartfelt, and she loved him for that. He was also an expert in old literature, and sometimes, when they were alone, he would whisper sonnets into her ear. She had always thought such a thing to be corny, but when she was the recipient of such attention, she found it romantic and sweet. However wonderful he might have been, she had found some small, indescribable thing lacking in him, and when he brooded for nearly a week after Gryffindor defeated Ravenclaw even without Harry, she used it as an excuse to break off their relationship.

She really liked Dean. He was funny and friendly, and he always gave her pictures of her, beautifully drawn and colored. He was everything that she ever wanted in someone, and she didn't think she could be any luckier.

Even though she was happy with Dean, she still found herself looking at Harry every now and then. She had read somewhere that first love was always the hardest to get over, and though she didn't think she had ever fallen in love with Harry, idolizing him had been so ingrained in her since birth that it was hard to stop.

Then, one night, she had returned from detention with Snape late because she had messed up halfway through, and in her haste to return to Gryffindor Tower, she didn't see them until she was only a few meters away.

They were pressed against the cold stone wall, and he had his hands buried in blond hair, mouth urgent against another's. She wanted desperately to move away, but she was frozen to the spot, and when they finally broke apart, she saw cool grey and a pointed chin, confirming her suspicions.

Maybe she had needed to see proof before she could move because as soon as she saw Malfoy leaning against the stone wall, flushed and panting, she quickly turned around and ran from the two not-boys-but-not-men. They were so engrossed in each other that they never noticed her.

Goodbye was surprisingly easy to say. She knew now that she really couldn't have him, and she thought he really wasn't the right kind of person for her, anyway. And finally, Ginny could leave behind her first crush and move on to the real people beside her.