a/n—This story started out as one idea, then turned into another, and then became this, so it's a bit...different. I'm still not entirely sure how much I like it, but I figured that if I wrote it, I should let you read it. Hope you like it!
The Course of Love
Love is probably the most complicated thing in the entire world. It causes problems and it comforts. It creates joy and causes sadness. It can start as one thing and change to be something entirely different. It can be small and grow to be something huge. It can affect us in so many different ways.
Love shaped the outcome of my entire life starting on the day I met one James Potter.
It all began on our very first day as actual students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hated James Potter from the very first time I spoke to him. He insulted my best friend; I vowed to hate him for all of eternity.
He swore that was when he first fell in love with me.
It continued once we weren't at the bottom of the food chain anymore. No longer first years, we were now second years, high and mighty above the shrimpy little eleven-year-olds. Well…others lorded it above the first years. I left them alone. That had been me just a short time ago. He pranked them and tricked them and acted like a god because he'd made the Quidditch team. I chose not to go to Gryffindor's first game of the season as a result.
He insisted he messed up because I wasn't there for good luck.
It escalated once we entered third year and were allowed to go to the local wizarding village occasionally. Without even a greeting when he saw me on the train back to school, he asked me to go out with him. I said no. The first time we were allowed into the village, my friend Mary and I ran into him and his friends. Literally. He dropped his package from the joke store. It broke my toe.
He said I shouldn't have surprised him so much with the sudden appearance of my beautiful face.
It drove me insane by the time we were fourth years. I'd reached the age where boys were no longer disgusting and were instead slightly on the verge of becoming more mature for the first time in their lives. Except for him. I'd just like to state, now, for the record, that I like my hair just fine the way (and color) it is, thank you very much.
He believed I over-reacted to having purple hair for more than a month.
It lost me my best friend before our fifth year was up. He was an arrogant, conceited, idiotic jerk. Forget hating him forever; James Potter ruined my life and that's all there was to it.
He admitted later that that was his fault.
It changed throughout the course of our sixth year. He changed. As the year progressed, he became less flamboyant, less the boy I had always hated. I thought he was giving up and I thought I was glad.
He tried to tell me years later that he knew my feelings were on the verge of change back then.
It was hidden before the start of seventh year. He forced himself to accept that I would never feel the same way about him that he felt about me when he found out we were going to be the Head students together. Eventually, we became friends and I soon realized the unthinkable: I liked having him around. It was only a matter of time before I worked up the courage to tell him, even though I thought he had changed his mind about me by then.
He was the happiest person in the world that day.
It became my reason to survive once we left school. We really and truly had each other now and for forever. War raged around us and there were so many near misses for both of us, but we were together, just the two of us.
He thought life was perfect just like that.
It made me fat.
It gave me a family again. My parents were gone and my sister had abandoned me years ago. And then we had Harry and life really was complete. All we needed was for the war to finally end and we would be so happy.
He promised that it would be over soon.
It saved our son. We were in hiding. We thought we were safe and would stay that way. Everything changed that Halloween night.
He told me to run.