Meeting Rupert Grint

And there he was. My heart hammered violently against my ribcage. I let out a high-pitched squeal as Rupert Grint walked closer to me, The Goblet of Fire pressed to my chest. My stomach was doing somersaults. Finally, he looked at me, his blue eyes burning into mine. I could no longer hear the screaming girls. I opened the book and he scribbled his name across the page, smiling. “It’s so nice to meet you,” I said. He handed the book back to me. “And you.” He leaned in and wrapped his arms around my neck as I placed my trembling hands on his back. Before we drew apart, I felt his lips lightly press my cheek. Now I knew this wasn’t real. I stared at him as he went off to sign other books or body parts. But I was the luckiest girl lined up at the red carpet.

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