Students' Lounge 9 ¾

I could still remember the day I was first captivated by the sweet smile that played on her lips, the warmth that filled her eyes and the soft sway of her hair. She was sitting at one of the Students’ Lounge’s vacant chairs; deeply engrossed with that book she was reading. A book whose cover undoubtedly belongs to one of the Harry Potter books. Her eyes were moving softly and every now and then, a pretty little smile would escape from her lips.

It was a cold, rainy afternoon way back in August 2008. I was making my way through a crowded canteen when I caught a glimpse of this lovely lady. I saw her in my peripheral vision, something that made me think she was just imaginary; sort of an angel. But when I turned my head and fixed my eyes on her, my breath was literally taken away. By then I knew it was love at first sight. I was determined to know her name but I knew it was still early to make a move. Still, I motioned towards her, making a sorry excuse to myself that I just wanted to take a seat and relax at the students’ lounge when in fact, all I really wanted is to get closer to her. Luck wasn’t on my side though. The moment I rested my body on the chair beside hers, the bell rang. She quickly fixed her things, put the book back on her bag, stood up and disappeared through the crowd. “Better luck next time, though” I said to myself.

Everyday, I would longingly wait for her to settle down at the students’ lounge and bury her nose on the Harry Potter book she’s reading for the day. I would watch as her eyes sparkle with delight or as she tears up because of despair. It had become a routine for me, to glance at her from afar; making sure nobody would see me watching her. There were days though, when she wasn’t there. I must admit that my day wouldn’t be complete without a sight of her.

Days passed when I could no longer control how I felt. It’s as if my heart would explode if I couldn’t go and ask her already. But hey, I don’t even know her name. Where will I begin? And then everything fell into place. An idea struck me. I was going to dress up like Harry Potter. Round glasses, lightning-shaped scar and a wand. It may sound weird or cliché but I had no other clever idea to make my existence known to her.

That day eventually came. Every vivid memory of that moment was kept alive in my memory. It was a cold, rainy afternoon just like the first time I saw her. The canteen and the lounge were so noisy and crowded yet she sat there serenely in peace; so royal that she might have been a princess in disguise. In her hand was a thick book; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Her eyes were mist with tears, she probably had read the part where Dobby, the house-elf died. I motioned towards her; feeling my whole body shake with unexplainable nervousness. When I was finally in front of her, I told her the most stupid pick-up line everybody could ever imagine and it goes like this: “Excuse me, uhmm. Are you a witch?”. She looked up to me. Her eyes, though clouded with tears, were sparkling and she let out a sweet smile, the same smile which captivated me the first time I saw her. “I am a witch. What made you think that I am one?”. She asked back. I wasn’t sure what to say next. My thoughts were racing so fast I couldn’t even grasp one. “Uhmm, because … because you bewitched me. You bewitched me just by sitting there, reading a book. You must have cast an enchantment, a spell, which binds me to you or maybe you had me drink a love potion which made my heart cry out for you every single time. I don’t know how it happened but I suddenly find myself wanting to have a glimpse of you reading peacefully amidst the noise”. Some students were looking at us now. Maybe some thought I was so weird for dressing up like that or by confessing my love to her in public. But I never cared. All that matters was that I got her attention now. “You must be a wizard too”. She said with her face full of mischief. “And why would you think that I’m a wizard like you?” I asked her. “Because you bewitched me too, Mr. Potter”. I was taken aback with what she said. Barely whispering, I asked her to apparate into a world where we can talk freely, where we can talk without minding the nine thousand eyes watching us and, to my heart’s pleasure, she said yes.

It had been 5 years since that day happened. Months from now, we’re going to tie the knot and start a new life together. After all the wonderful and bitter experiences we’ve been through together, there is one thing I could proudly conclude: “Magic is and always real only if you choose to believe it is”.