A/N: To those following me, I apologize for the multiple notifications for this story. FFN is being amazingly asinine today...

Written for Hogwarts (Challenges and Assignments).

Prompt #1: Pop Music Chart Day — 60s songs — "Runaway", by Del Shannon

Prompt #2: Insane House challenge — prompt 738 — title — Out of Time

As I walk along, I wonder
A-what went wrong with our love...

We first met at King's Cross. Your hair was bright, and it swung across your back in shiny curtains as you moved. I was transfixed by the sight — I had never seen something so mesmerizing.

You were as fascinated by me as I was by you.

Your first year, you could barely look at me without blushing. I was a second year, but I still saw you wherever I went.

Were you following me?

I hardly knew.

I saved your life that year. You thanked me profusely, as did your parents and most of the teachers. I didn't want the attention. I wanted to be normal.

My third year, I was on the lookout for flashes of your beautiful red hair — perhaps turning the corner ahead of me, or passing me in the corridors. Nothing. For some reason, I found myself wanting to see you.

But I never did.

In fifth year, you helped me with my mission. I was eternally grateful for the way you followed me, no questions asked. Just assistance in whatever I needed done.

I was afraid for your life the entire night.

In sixth year, I was working up the courage to talk to you. I'd had a crush on you for years — not that I had admitted it to myself. But you had apparently gotten over your crush on me.

You dated around, flirted with boys that weren't good enough for you.

But you treated me like you'd treat your brother.

After the game, I saw you in the crowd and, though my heart beat rapidly and my palms grew damp, I knew it was time.

I kissed you.

Seventh year was hectic. I had broken it off with you at the Headmaster's funeral, but I knew you wouldn't take that as an answer. You were too stubborn.

I loved it.

After the war was won, I asked you to marry me. You accepted, with the prettiest smile on your face. I was entranced.

I let you grieve your brother's death for six months. You hadn't wanted to wait, but eventually you gave in and mourned for those months.

The wedding date grew near, and your mother worked herself into a frenzy, rushing around preparing things that I could care less about. But you wanted a fancy wedding, so I agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly.

The day dawned, clear and sunny, but chilly. We had decided on an autumn wedding, when it wasn't too warm or too cold. The guests began arriving, filling the white seats with a crowd of colors.

I saw you coming down the aisle on your father's arm. You were breathtakingly beautiful, in a cream-colored, strapless dress and a lacy veil covering your hair. It had darkened considerably over the years, but it was still undeniably red.

And we were married beneath a giant willow, hand-in-hand.

Forever.

I stared at the note that you had left on the kitchen table before fleeing. Beside it were your rings — both the engagement sapphire and wedding diamond. They twinkled merrily at me, making my heart clench.

How could you do this to me?

I thought it was forever.

But our forever was out of time.