I can't help myself.
So what if she's a year younger than me? She's very mature for her age. So what if I'm the worst wizard in my year? I'm getting a lot better.
Ah, who am I kidding? Why would she ever be interested in me? I can barely do a simple Switching Spell without having an accident, and she's mastered the Bat-Bogey Hex. What could she possibly see in me?
It doesn't seem to matter to my heart. I can barely remember to take my wand to class, but I recall every conversation I've ever had with her. I couldn't whip a six-year-old in a fight, but I took on a Slytherin sixth- year to save her. I close my eyes and see the way her long red hair flows down her back, the way her laugh reminds me of a rippling brook, the way her eyes light up when she's really interested in something. She's the only girl I've ever danced with, the only one I ever want to.
I can't help myself.