Meet Virginia

The way you’re bathed in light

Reminds me of that night

God laid my down into your rose garden of trust

And I was swept away

With nothing left to say

Some helpless fool, yeah, I was lost

In a swoon of peace

You’re all I need to find

So when the time is right, come to me sweetly, come to me

 

Chapter 1: Where It All Began

September 1

            I am not sure when it started. Perhaps it all really began that first day that I met her. She was standing in front of my worst enemy. Her robes were shabby and dirty, her face smudged with soot. There was no question of her parentage. The hair gave it away. She wasn’t particularly pretty. Her tangled hair was almost orange, not a flattering shade for anyone. She was too short and too thin, with far too many freckles. But something about her captivated me. Her eyes were blazing and her jaw was set in a way that made it clear to me that she was not going to back down. He meant something to her, and I had insulted him.

 

            That year, I kept a close eye on her. She became withdrawn, and half the time seemed terrified. For some reason, I was actually worried about her. No one else seemed to have picked up on anything. Of course, I didn’t expect Potter or her idiotic brother to pay attention. But Granger is supposed to be clever. Merlin knows she likes to think so. But, no. They were all too wrapped up in playing detective. I think the only time Potter paid her any attention was on Valentine’s Day. That bloody singing valentine. Why did she have to go and do that? It was practically begging to be made fun of. I wish I could say I regretted it, but she brought it on herself. I mean, really. "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad." Who wouldn’t make fun of that? Well, I suppose there are plenty of people who wouldn’t. But I digress.

            I would have never guessed that it was she who had opened the chamber. A Gryffindor. A Weasley. People began to avoid her like the plague. I don’t know why. It’s not like possession is contagious. I tell you, some people are just so bloody stupid. After a while, I suppose she just got used to it. She slipped into the shadows, choosing to hover just around the edges. She was content to chase after the Dream Team like a little puppy. Only one person attempted a real friendship with her, and that was the annoying Creevey kid. She was defined by her status as Potter’s groupie. No one seemed to notice that she was growing up. But I did.

            Now, on my way to my fifth year at Hogwarts, all I can think about is seeing her again. I can’t seem to get the image of her at the Yule Ball out of my head. Her dress robes certainly weren’t shabby. They fit her perfectly, clinging to her new curves. Her hair, which had gotten darker over the years, was pulled back, with a few waves hanging around her face. She was smiling sweetly even though Longbottom was stomping all over her feet. How could anyone have that much patience with that clumsy fool? Especially considering that whenever I attempted to talk to her, she told me to sod off. Just because I wanted to know how her parents had been able to afford those beautiful robes. Honestly! Why does she have to take everything so personally?

 

            Well, this year, that is all going to change. I am going to be friends with the littlest Weasel if I die trying. Why? Because, this is something that has never (to the best of my knowledge) been attempted before. Civil interaction between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. Further more, between a Malfoy and a Weasley. I very much think that, were my father to know that I had this intention, he would be unhappy, to say the least. But honestly, I could care less. The very idea of doing something deemed impossible thrills me. What can I say? I’m a rebel.

Sincerely,

Draco Thomas Malfoy