A Childhood Fantasy

A Childhood Fantasy

By: Fatema

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Draco Malfoy watched her from across the room. She laughed and talked to her friends looking more beautiful than he could ever remember her being. She never turned her eyes towards him though. It never once turned towards him. She was too preoccupied with someone else to even notice that he existed.

It hurt like hell to think about how she didn't remember him, notice him, or even was a target on her radar. He didn't deal with hurt well and he didn't want to feel hurt, but she was the one person who could make him feel so much, yet she never knew that she did. She hung on to hopeless wishes and never thought of what could be, at least not between them. And he didn't expect her. It would be completely unreasonable, not to mention troubling.

He didn't understand this longing he had to be with her, to make her his. He could have anyone he wanted, but he knew he could never have her, for more than one obvious reasons. Because it was almost forbidden for him to have her and that only made it more appealing.

He was sure that she didn't remember him. He knew that she only saw him as the enemy as he pretended he saw her. It angered him beyond reason that she did not remember him.

The logical sense that they were too young to even remember bypassed him. He didn't care about age. For a few wonderful hours she was his friend, yet she didn't remember it. She didn't remember the time they had spent together, where they were the only two in each other's world.

He remembered each detail like it was yesterday. He had gotten lost that day while his mother was speaking to the shop lady about some object she desired. She had not been paying attention to him and he remembered seeing this beautiful girl looking at the shop window at some toy that she obviously wanted.

He remembered her so well. She wore a regular dress, something very plain, yet beautiful. Her red hair, very dark red hair, was up in two pigtails, and her eyes were these beautiful bright almond shaped eyes. That was what caught his attention. He was only seven at that time and he remembered her so well.

She had looked up at him and smiled. He had smiled back at her, this scared smile. He looked back at his mother seeing that she was still talking to the owner of the shop. Deciding that he wanted to explore the possible chance of making a friend, he walked out of the shop, leaving his mother behind.

She had looked at him curiously. For some reason he was sure that he shouldn't tell her his name. Every time she told anyone his name, they would always become different and treat him differently. He had already learned that his name meant something. So he had told her his name was Michael, same as his grandfather's.

She had introduced herself as Virginia. "Can I call you Vir?"

She smiled towards him. "No ones ever called me that," she shyly told him.

"Well than that's what I'll call you Vir," he smiled back.

"Do you want to see the dolls at the other shop?" she had asked pointing towards the end of the street. He felt curious enough and looked back at his mother once more, seeing that she was still discussing something. The only time he ever saw his mother socializing of any sort with shopkeepers was when his father wasn't around. She seemed to smile a lot more and he liked it when his father didn't tag along.

He had followed her as she started running. He stopped her before she started to cross the busy street. He had taken her hand in his and they had walked across the street together. No one could've ever thought that these two weren't the best of friends. They had looked close and both were laughing and smiling.

He was starting to get to know her and she had shown him a few toys at the shop. He had never just stared at a toy because he thought it was nice. He always got it, if that was what he wanted. But for once he pretended that he couldn't like she did and just enjoyed how it was meant to be enjoyed.

He looked at her, seeing the longing look on her face as she looked at the doll of her choice. It was a Muggle doll, amazingly enough. He didn't think much of it, it didn't really do anything. But he had made a friend, and he was going to be happy for it. His father never allowed him to associate with anyone he liked.

So he had told her that he wanted to go in the store. He had a few coins that he could use. His mother had given it to him to keep. She was so surprised when he had bought her the doll she had wanted.

And that was when their friendship was made. The two of them had walked around the place for quite some time. He had never enjoyed himself more, not to this very day. She had been his friend and for one afternoon everything was perfect. He forgot all of the trouble he had at home with pleasing his father, even at the young age that he was in and just enjoyed being with her.

It was the best time of his life, yet he knew that she never remembered it. Why would she? He had given her a false name and that's more than reason enough not to remember him. He looked at her now, dancing with Neville Longbottom. He almost threw up at the sight of Neville trying to be comfortable with holding her in his arms.

He wasn't meant to hold her. She didn't deserve to be treated like that. She was so much more than what Neville could hold onto. He watched her as she watched Harry Potter dancing with Hermione Granger. It was pathetic really. He could no longer stand there and watch this happening. It sickened him to the very core.

But before he could leave he saw her pull away from Neville and head outside. He decided that he would follow her. Maybe tonight he would tell her the truth. Tonight he would remind her of what she should've known all along.

He followed her quickly, making sure that she did not saw him. She wore a beautiful lavender dress, one that brought out her figure. She had grown into such a beautiful girl, he could barely believe it. The lavender color complimented her red hair, which was in waves. She must've done some sort of magic trick to get it to look like that. She practically glowed.

He followed her through the rose garden and almost to the east side of the school. She stopped suddenly, looking up at the full moon. Tonight was the night of the Yule Ball and the moon was full, so high in expectation.

He watched her as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to protect herself from the cold. It was just like her not to bring a coat along with her knowing that it was almost winter. She suddenly turned around, surprising him and catching him in the act of watching her. But he was always good at fooling people, so he put on his best smirk and headed towards her.

"Were you following me?" she asked, her forehead scrunched up in wrinkles because of confusion.

"You think I am following you, a Weasley?" Draco asked with much hatred in his voice.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" she demanded to know.

He saw her eyes spark up as she said this. God he wanted to touch her right then, to kiss her. She was tantalizingly beautiful. "You haven't changed a bit have you?"

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked confused.

"Wait you did change. You are chasing after Potter and you just so happen to completely forget me," he replied, walking closer towards her.

She could not move. She was not sure what it was that she was to say. It didn't make any sense to her. "What the hell are you up to Draco?"

"Why did you forget me? How could you forget me Vir?"

The name triggered the memory in her head. She looked at him shocked. That name... Only one person had called her by that name. And that was... Michael. Now that she looked at Draco, really looked at him, she noticed the similarities. The eyes, the hair, the skin, the nose. This couldn't be.

"You remember don't you?"

"How could I forget?" she asked, almost in pain. True as it was, she had never forgotten. She couldn't. He accepted her. That day had been the best day in her life. Even though she had such a loving family, the way he had treated her was unbelievably amazing. She had just turned six then too.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" the simple question he had wanted to ask for so long. It was what he had been dreaming about.

"I thought it was a Michael."

He laughed. A true laughed. Not one of his mocking laugh that he threw at just about everyone, but a true laugh. She was so surprised to hear it, but it made her remember the way Michael... no Draco had laughed that day. "It really is you," she said surprised, stepping closer to him, as if seeing him for the first time.

"In the flash," he replied sarcastically.

"Why?"

"Why what?" he asked her.

"Why did you wait so long?"

"I was hoping you'd remember me."

"I could never forget Mi... Draco," she stopped herself from saying the word. This was the dream that had haunted her for so long and now... now she found out that he was there all along. He had never gone away. He was the one.

"Good. Because you're mine," he whispered before his lips descended upon hers, kissing her with all the pent up passion in him. For a second she could do nothing, but just surrender to his kiss. But then she started to respond to him and pulled him ever closer to her, kissing him back.