Work Text:
I never thought I'd amount to anything more than your brainy friend that would nag you half to death. Nothing more than just someone standing by you, and in a way, I am. I see the looks people send me when we walk together through the halls, when we joke and laugh together down Diagon Alley.
But at the same time, I'm more than that.
Did you know I talk to my walls about you, during the summer? When I'm alone during those humid nights, the only light coming through my window coming from the moon, I talk about you to no one. I talk about the way you make my heart flutter when you look at me like I'm the only person that matters. I talk about the way you make my lungs hurt when we make those stupid jokes, laughing until we're both out of breath. I talk about how when you put your arms around me, knowing I'm one of the few people you trust to hold you back, and how our embraces make me feel warm and safe.
Ginny and Luna must be sick about the hushed chats we have within the library, when I gush about my feelings for you that I'm too cowardly to say to your face. Ginny looks at me with that fond look of exasperation she always holds whenever I launch into one of my tangents about you. Luna always pushes me to tell you, to be selfish for once in my life and take you all to my own because she just knows you feel the same, but I'm terrified that's just wishful thinking.
My mother smiles whenever she sees me open one of your letters. Do you know I keep every single one in a scrapbook on my desk at home? Of course you don't, I've never told you. She's told me she wants to meet you, meet the man that makes me smile and giggle to myself when I think no one's listening. She thinks you sound wonderful, and good for me.
I never thought much about myself, thinking I had nothing more than my intellect and my loyalty.
But you tell me that I'm pretty, and I believe it every time. You never ask anything of me, other than be there and support you, which I'll do for the rest of my life. And I know promises can hurt, but we've barely just begun.
I'm so used to relationships I try to make work collapsing, but you make me feel we'll stand tall and burn brightly together. And I think we're all in agreement that what you and I have?
It's something I should hold on to.
So wait for me Harry. Wait for me to 'Gryffindor up' like you always say, and wait for me to tell you just how I feel.
Because I think, and I hope against all hope, that with all those hidden glances you take when you think I'm not looking, and all those brushes of your hand against mine that you pretend you didn't mean to do but your smile says differently, that you feel the same.
I'm so in love with you, Mister Potter. And I cannot wait to tell you as much.
-Your Booker