-1People say that young love isn't real love. That the first flickering flames of passion simply don't count. I refuse to believe that all of my feelings are fake and shallow. I refuse to believe that the longing that is tearing my heart and soul asunder is false. How can I? How can I allow myself to believe that everything we have gone through for the last three years is fake and meaningless? But that is what they ask me to do, they ask me to turn my back on the one person who has always been there for me. That is one thing I can't do, I refuse to give up on you, on us, on me. I refuse to give up again.

It all started when we were sixteen. You were the Slytherin bad boy and everything my older brothers had ever taught me told me to run away from you. You were a snake it seemed simple enough. It was that night in the Great Hall however that I realized I had never really looked at you before. In that moment it didn't seem right to judge you simply on hearsay without discovering the truth for myself.

After that one glance I had of you I knew that I wanted to be with you. And you, you hid behind your cold ass-hole shell refusing to let yourself believe that any girl could be interested in you. I don't mean that you didn't think they wanted your body. You didn't earn your sex god title for staying locked in your dorm room but you didn't believe that any girl would actually want to know you. I remember I had a date that night and thanks to you it was the worst date of my life. My head was swimming with thoughts of you. The way your voice had sounded, the way you held yourself and managed to turn everything into a joke, just brushing it off.

I knew a couple of kids in Slytherin and luckily for me my brothers weren't in on that little bit of knowledge and I started to use them as an excuse to get near you. Soon I was dreaming of you every night wishing that for once you would look at me and not just see the youngest of the Weasley brood.

And then … you did.