Winning Back Harry

In a certain little parallel universe, there is no such thing as good or bad magic. There is no such thing as mudblood or pureblood. There never has been or ever will be a Dark Lord.

And at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there is no houses, which means less rivalry and prejudices between students.

In this world, the Muggles know everything about the wizards. They had always known, and had always accepted that there were some people that were different. It was like being black or white. Everyone knows that everyone else, magic or otherwise, is human, and that’s all that really matters. There had never been a witch hunt like in the other world.

And sometimes, rarely, magical children are born into Muggle families. They are cherished, and the parents often proudly bragg that they - “have a Witch/Wizard in the family!” - and the listeners would squeal - “Oh, how wonderful!”

Hermione Granger, in example, is one of those children. Her parents had known that Hermione was a witch before she was even three months old. They had been asleep in their room, when they heard a whimpering coming from the baby monitor beside the bed. Her father got up to get dressed so he could check on her before the wails grew angry, but as he was pulling up his boxers, they heard the mobile over the crib start playing the gentle music, and their little baby calmed down just as quickly as she had started to fuss. Which would have been impossible for a three month old to do without magic, seeing as how her parents had a hard time winding it up by hand!

They were so happy, they threw a huge party the next day at the dentist office. And as everyone there was gifting the baby Hermione, she grinned hugely, showing off a full set of teeth. Her parents, dentists, got to work on them straight away.

But this isn’t quite her story.

This is a story about a boy named Harry Potter, who is in no way special, at least to those who aren’t close to him. He has a normal family life, parents who love him, and good friends who would die for him - (which they needn’t do, since his life never is, has been, or will be in any danger).

No, this boy Harry is about as normal as you can get. Round glasses, dark messy hair, baggy clothes (he is insecure, people! Do you really think he’s forced to wear clothes that are too big for him???), black eyeliner, black nail polish, black lipstick on special occasions…

Okay, so maybe Harry Potter isn’t exactly normal. But I love him all the more for it, for being original, being his own man (yes, man, we are in our seventh year at Hogwarts after all), but here’s the bad part. He doesn’t even know I exist anymore.

We were the best of friends in first and second year, but when summer vacation was over, and we started third year, he ignored me. When I tried talking to him, he walked the other way. When I annoyed him, he pulled his wand on me and threatened to hex me to next Sunday.

So I left him alone. He forgot about me, and I tried to forget about him, but I just can’t! How do you just drop your best friend in the world, and forget they ever existed, especially when you see them every day?

It’s been five years since he’s said one word to me outside of class, when the teachers pair us up together. Five long years since his laugh has rang joyfully through my ears. Five years; long, difficult, lonely years, since he kissed me.

It was then that I knew I loved him. We were on the Hogwarts express, heading home for summer vacation after second year. Our friend Hermione had left the coach to go to the bathroom, and I asked Harry if he would write to me for the three months we would be apart. He solemnly promised that he would, then leaned close to me, too close, much too close, oh my god! I closed my eyes and tilted my head, puckered my lips a little, and felt the wonderful shock of his lips touching mine. It lasted only a few seconds, then it was over. We both blushed and looked down embarrassed. The rest of the train ride was very quiet, even after Hermione had returned. She didn’t seem to notice anything was different.

But something definitely was different. All summer, I waited for a letter from Harry, but one never came. Not one! He even had the audacity to send back the letters I had sent him unopened.

And when third year started, Harry was different. He wore nothing but black. The whole black shebang. The eyeliner, the nail polish, the German Nazi boots. And he rejected me and our friendship.

I was heartbroken, to say the least. And I still am to this very day. Not a day has gone by where I didn’t think about that kiss.

Maybe he is ashamed of me for some reason. Maybe he doesn’t want to be gay. Maybe, oh my God! Maybe he hates me because I’m pretty! Maybe I’m too girly looking for him. Maybe he’s jealous of me because my family has a lot more money than him. No, he wouldn’t be that shallow…

But I’m tired of not knowing what’s going through his mind. I’m tired of having to deny myself my best friend, because he is being stupid for some reason. And this year, I am going to find out why! This year, Harry Potter is going down! (hopefully =D )
TBC asap!