This is a style of writing I've never written in before, and I'd really appreciate your opinion on it. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling

Structure made her life make sense. Structure brought control and order to what would otherwise be a blur of colorful events swirling together. Structure set up Routines that guided her life, setting boundaries. Harry would do something stupidly noble. Ron would be a clueless git, but make up for it later with an unexpected act of kindness. She would survey whatever problem they had drug up, hoard herself up in the library, then reach up and fix the lines, making everything clear and smoothing the wrinkles of confusion on her best friend's faces. Because that's who she was. The Fixer. The Problem-Solver. The Explanation Giver. The Bossy Brain. She was not allowed to be anything else, because there was no room in the Structure to allow such a thing.

Then He came. At first, He had fit perfectly into her Routine. He was a pale Mummy's Boy with slicked back hair and an attitude. Insulting her was to be expected. Antagonizing Harry and Ron was just what the Routine required of Him. She never gave His place in her life a second thought.

But then He had to go and change, suddenly not a snide little boy with stupid hair but a tall man with arrogance and a smirk that was practically copyrighted. And then He wasn't insulting her or laughing at Harry's expense but crying and stressing as His alabaster skin turned grey and black bags puffed up under His eyes. He was not fitting into the Structure. But she couldn't think about Him because let's be honest, Harry already did enough of that for the both of them (and frankly, it was starting to worry her just a bit).

And then He ended up on the Wrong Side with His skin tainted and that was wrong wrong wrong because He was rude and snide but not evil; no, He was never suppose to be evil, He wasn't allowed to be evil.

So when she found out that He was still a frightened Mummy's Boy who didn't take sides it was okay again because He was filling the mold she had subconsciously set for Him. And it was to her relief that He didn't go to prison because that was for Evil Psychotic Murderers, not Sniffly Little Ferrets.

But then two years later she spilled her cereal when she opened the paper only to see Him smirking on the front page, head of a successful company and single-handedly restoring honor to His family name. That was not Right, He wasn't allowed to go expanding His carefully set place in society like that, and someone needed to tell Him so.

That's how she ended up outside His front door, in her pajama pants, shivering in the cold. She started cursing herself-honestly, what was she thinking? This was not her place, she was not to go associating with Him by choice. Just as she started to go back home and pretend this never happened, the door swung open to reveal Him, smirking. Her cheeks turned red, His eyebrows rising up into His hairline as she stammered. He cut her off with a smooth offer, barely hearing her answer before the door was slammed shut.

That's how she got wrangled into dinner with Him.

She wound a stray string off her skirt around her finger until it turned purple-how could she go and overstep her Boundaries like this? There was No Excuse. But all the reasons why she shouldn't be there disappeared from her mind when He walked in, hands in the pockets of His trademark black suit. And an hour later she was laughing at something He'd said over half-eaten pasta and just noticing the exact shade of grey His eyes were. The same eyes she stared into the whole night after they stumbled into her apartment, His hands in her thick mass of hair and her arms round His neck. The same eyes she woke up to as He smiled at her before placing one last kiss and saying He needed to go to work, but he would owl her as soon as possible. The same eyes she couldn't get out of her head as she screamed into her pillow because what happened was definitely NOT following Structure. This couldn't happen again.

When His eagle owl landed outside her window she grabbed the letter, smiling as she wrote a reply.

Three months and many pasta dates later she tried to explain to Him as she laid in His arms why this-they-couldn't go on. They didn't follow Structure, they were overstepping their Boundaries and that Wasn't Allowed. And instead of gathering His things and stomping out like she expected (like she dreaded), He kissed her and said He didn't give a damn about Structure.

Well. That certainly put a twist on things.

And slowly she found her Structure was crumbling away in a swirl of grey eyes and emerald green sheets. She also found she didn't care.

Okay, I have never written something like that before, and I would really like some feedback please! Thank you for reading!