My heart aches horribly. For what I'm not sure, all I know is the dull, familiar ache I feel is my heart. Almost as if, it is crying out. Crying out to what I'm not sure of that either. Crying out to find it's soul mate maybe? Yeah, that's probably not likely.

Who could love a bushy-haired, buck-toothed, know-it-all bookworm like me? No one. Not even the boy I've dreamt of since I was 14. Sure, he's told me I'm not ugly, but that doesn't constitute into him actually having feelings for me. He was simply making an observation.

Not a particularly accurate one, but an observation non-the-less. And really, the only guy who has really noticed me the way I wanted to be noticed is Victor Krum. But even he had other motives. No one has truly taken the time to get to know who I am.

To find out what my passions are, to find out what drives me to the point of exhaustion. What gives that sparkle in my eyes that my dad is always telling me about?

Maybe I'm not meant to have any of those things. Maybe I'm not meant to have someone like that. Maybe it's just all-fanciful thinking. I mean after all, I am known to think too much about things.

But honestly, I just want someone to love me. Is that so much to ask? So wrong of me to want?

Even in a world where I am considered by some to be beneath them. A mudblood. Is it so wrong for me to want love? To want the love of one particular person in all the world, even if he is unattainable.

Well I should say unattainable to the likes of me anyway. He could have any girl he wants, all he has to do is look at the right way and they start falling at his feet. But his is, as always, blissfully unaware.

Or maybe he does notice and just doesn't care? Or maybe he does care and he is just looking for the right one to fall at his feet. Well I can tell you, that I would hardly stoop that low.

But it still hurts. To know that he can sit next to me every day at meals and in classes. And never notice how I look at him. How I'm sure my emotions shine through in my eyes. How I wish with everything that I am that, he will notice me in that way. And return my feelings.

Is that too much wishful thinking? Probably. But I can't help it. Every time he looks at me I feel myself melting just a little more. Like another layer of myself has been stripped away for good. And I am powerless to stop it. Of course not that I want to stop it, but still…

I think it's his eyes that do it. They are my undoing. Every time I catch them, I can feel myself falling further. And I have to restrain myself from leaping up and snogging him right then and there.

But of course, that would take courage. Something I simply don't have enough of. Otherwise, I probably would have gotten up the nerve by now to tell him how I feel. But instead, I am here, sitting by the dying fire in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place. Staring into the flames. Waiting.

Waiting to die. Maybe. Waiting to live. I hope. Waiting for an absolution. Probably not going to come.

But I can wait. I'm patient. And I have hope. Hope that when the sun rises, there will be a new dawn, without fear. Without having to look over my shoulder. But most of all, I hope that when the dawn comes, it will be a world without a dark lord in it and with Harry Potter still in it. I hope. And wait. Till the dawn comes.

And maybe when that new dawn comes, I will have the courage to say what I haven't been able to say yet. That I love Harry James Potter. Until then, I will wait, because I am patient and I have hope.

~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: The line about waiting to die, etc. I stole from the film, `Titanic'. And for those waiting for the next chapter of `My Best Friend' I am SO sorry it is taking so long! I decided abruptly that I did not like the first draft of the chapter I wrote and decided to re-write the whole chapter. But alas, now I have been struck with writers block concerning said chapter. I am slowly working through it but it will be a bit longer before it is out. But I WILL try to have it out as soon as I can.