She was beautiful. Purely radiant. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her silky sheet of golden hair or her emerald eyes that sparkled with laughter every time one of the Weasley twins cracked a joke. I could just detect the witty comments that she'd say in the high-rhythmic melody of her voice and see tiny flashes of a bright grin that could overpower the sun in light.
All I wanted to do was snatch her away from the crowded common room and snuggle into some hidden corridor where nobody would see us. I'd enwrap my arms around her and lean in to kiss her. She'd gaze into my eyes-
"HARRI! Quit daydreaming, and listen to me for once in while," Anita, my girlfriend snapped, and slapped my wrist.
"Sorry love," I apologized and slid my hand on to her knee. She lowered her voice immediately and smiled with satisfaction. I glanced around the living room of the Christmas party to see if anyone noticed the racket.
These were the type of girls that I'd been dating for the past three years of my life. Women who caked their faces with that icky powdery stuff to hide zits, glotted their lips with head aching bright cardinal lipstick, and heightened their eyelashes to frighteningly high lengths. Most of them didn't even have the slightest clue to who Cornelius Fudge was or that You-Know-Who actually had a name other than "You-Know-Who". Boys that resembled rockers and possessed some other ethnicity other than white easily turned them on.
Heather, on the other hand, was different. She was the Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, a genius, and didn't even know what eyeliner was. I'd resented her at first because Heather was barging in the way of Chris and my conversations with her annoying little antics about Muggle world affairs, all that African poverty and such. Suddenly, after a year or two, she was a tiny princess perched on a stool, listening intently to lectures in Professor Flitwick's classes. And it started; I fell for her charm, and never admitted it until the night of the exams.
"Harri, what was I saying?"
"I dunno, some thing about Paulo and Nikki getting married?" I lied.
She hissed, "No, I was mentioning that Gertrude and Liam hooked up on Saturday! You never listen!"
I spat out at her,” For once in a while, maybe I'd perch an ear to your voice if you'd talk about something interesting for once in a blue moon!"
"Oh really," she retorted, "I could careless, because all you do is drum your guitar, read the paper, do your homework, pray the Rosy, and...stare at that dork in the corner!"
"Please, she's far more intriguing then you'll ever be!"
"Yeh, you're not deaf, you heard what I said!"
"Fine. All I really wanted was to de-virginize you anyways," She rolled off of her tongue.
I shouted back at Anita as she tripped out of the Portrait Hole in those orange high heels, "It’s a Rosary by the way!"
"I DON'T CARE!" She sung out and slammed the Fat Lady.
I flushed with crimson at her stupid adhocracy. Anita was the ninth flame I'd plowed through and it was nothing to brag about, number wise that is. She was a Quidditch Groupie I was set up with on a Hogsmeade expedition with Oliver Wood. He needed to double date because he was finally in a relationship with some Ravenclaws he'd laid eyes on for several months and Oliver was jumpy about being alone with Marigold Davis. Anita Malanera apparently thought that we were actually in a relationship, so it hit off for a couple of weeks.
"Great," I avoided her annoying little gaze and continued to burn a hole into the wall until she stalked out of the room.
Meanwhile Heather was laughing hysterically and pointing her finger in my direction. Fred and Wave joined in with her guffawing. I groaned, those four were such cynics, they found such joy in my misery. Maybe the Weasleys, Wave and Heather should've been classified a new case of cynicism, Harrison cynics. There I went.
"Will you all knock it off?"
"Pssh, why should we? It's fun to spike your girlfriends drink with the twins' new experiments!" Wave cried.
I was speechless,"Fred......George....you...you wouldn't..."
"Oh yes, we would!" They chimed in unison.
"God, you guys! I broke up with another girl."
"Oh," Heather suddenly ripped through the banter," like a little Tizzy Clicker would endanger your sex life!"
"My sex life? Like I ever had one!"
"Sure, and I hear that Jimmy Hendrix wasn't black."
"Way to insult the rocker expert, Heath Ledger," I bounced out of my chair.
"Shut your trap, I ain't looking like the Joker!" She leaped a tiny step towards me.
"Ain't? Wow, Glencoe...you're a hick?"
"Why, excuse yourself. The Spanish aren't too great themselves. Such low-class!"
"Doubt that, you're blonde."
"We'll see about that, hijo de punta."
I flung towards her and now, our faces were just inches apart from one another.
"Just you wait Hea-"
"Break apart the catfight ladies," Wave intervened, snatching my arm.
"Yeh, you lot should take this outside and work it out WITHOUT getting in a violent row," Oliver was suddenly in the picture. How'd he get here?
Fred and George yanked our shoulders and pushed us out of the Portrait Hole.
"Good luck! Don't kill each other!"
The red headed duo vanished as soon as the Fat Lady forcefully clamped the place shut.
"Here, we are again. You pollock." Heather scoffed with her arms crossed. I'd done it again, we weren't on good terms and I was in love with her. She'd never forgive me for calling her a hick. What did I get myself into?
"You are so mean and cruel sometimes," Heather choked on her tears, “I don't think you're aware of that though, are you?"
I frowned. Blimey, she could really get bitter; I'd never foresee Heather going Midol on me. Most people in the Houses thought she was too virginal, saintly, and a poster-girl for a goody-two shoes. Apparently, Heather had a dark side. Maybe it had cookies.
"Yes, I am," I snapped,” you’re just too blatant to notice."
"Is that another reference to me being yellow?"
"Yellow, more like Ice Queen."
She took the comment with astonishment. Her brain was thinking hard to spit back an insult back at me. Her nose and forehead wrinkled a little, while her lips disappeared into a white line.
"Why don't you just say sorry?"
"Because you insulted me first!"
"Well, I can't help it!"
I snorted quite obnoxiously," Help what? Being an idiot?"
"Pssh, well excuse me. You're the one whose head can't even handle the mental capacity to screw a girl's mind around by telling her that you lo-"
She halted in midsentence, knowing exactly what she was going to say.
I retorted,” Come again, twit? In love with whom?"
"I-i-i-i," she stuttered.
I spat out," With some little brat named Heather. Why yes, she's quite the bitch right now."
My ear reacted to the sound of a wail. Oh Merlin, I'd made her cry, again like last night. What had I done? Even more so, how'd that harsh language roll off my tongue to the apple of my eye?
"Heather," I frantically tried to apologize,” I’m so sorry! I didn't mean it! Really I didn't!"
She glared at me from under those long fluttering eyelashes. Even though she was sobbing like crazy and wasn't clad with any hint of cosmetic, she looked stunning. I positioned myself comfortably in that position for sometime until her sniffling began to soften.
"Just leave me alone, you home-wrecking fool!" She shoved me off and began to scamper away. I caught her right before she could turn the corner.
Her warm hand was nestled into the interlock of our hands. Her back was leaned up against a wall and shivering from the light cotton long sleeve shirt she was wearing.
I didn't know what to say except her name,” Heather, honey."
She didn't utter a sound.
I saw the tears on her face, my lips crashed down on to each tear, sucking each one on the soft surface of each cheek. They were salty with a reminder of Heather's love and hope of a much sweeter maiden beneath it all. She relaxed with each touch of my lip upon her skin; in fact I think she was enjoying it. Finally, I came to the last tear, which was on her lip......
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