My Favorite Weasley

I watched as her breathing slowed and I realized she was in a deep sleep. Dreaming of peaceful times with her fiance.

She will always be my favorite Weasley.

She turns slightly to her right, her hair flaming red hair following like beautiful river of blood.

I still don't know how this happened. Me falling in love with her. When did it ever come to the point that I would fall in love with a Weasley? A Weasley?

But she is my favorite Weasley.

I remember the first time I saw her at Flourish and Blotts. A simple silly girl covered from head to foot in soot. Hardly thinking of the little girl, I see the twenty-year-old Virginia lying peacefully in the small shabby flat she shared with her stupid fiance, good-for-nothing brother, and insane friend.

I could kill the three of them and take her away with me. But it's much too simple. Besides, it's silly. The past is the past.

Nevertheless, she will always be my favorite Weasley.

She is silly. So silly, I hate her. I hate her for being a Weasley. I hate her for being so love struck over the boy with piercing green eyes. I hate her for hating me.

I could watch her like this forever, but one of the three pests will awake. They're all insanely idiotic in every way describable.

I cannot help the things I've done. They've given me power. A power I'd be willing to lose just for her.

Stupid girl.

Still, she will always be my favorite Weasley.

How would I, a person of sound body and mind fall in love with the sister of a man I killed?

He deserved it. It's as simple as that.

She reaches out in her sleep for the raven-haired brat. He acts with an automatic response and pulls her into his arms. I envy the bastard.

She moans and it sends a shiver through my body. It's as if this is the way it's meant to be.

The hero and his phoenix haired beauty.

Disgusting.

And yet, she is still my favorite Weasley.

Why is the fool even spending the night tonight? Stupid question, there are clothes scattered everywhere.

I'm so foolish.

Why do I waste my time obsessing over something that should be left alone? The very fact that it is inhumane makes me want to stalk her more?

Yes, the Mudblood in the room to the right is pretty, but she is beautiful.

Why?

Simply because she is.

She is my favorite Weasley.

Sighing, I realize it is time to depart from my rose.

I get that final glance and detail her description in my thoughts for my dreams.

Her pale skin, raspberry lips, soft cheek bones, long legs... I must leave.

I Apparate back to the manor.

As soon as I climb into bed, I began to get a quiz about my whereabouts.

"Where were you?" She rolls over sleepily to me.

"Walking," I grumble.

"Walking?"

I simply plant a false kiss on her bony shoulder and reply, "Go to bed Narcissa."