Diseased

===

Ninety miles outside Chicago

Can't stop driving

I don't know why

So many questions

I need an answer

Two years and later

You're still on my mind

Someday, We'll Know

by Jonathan Foreman and Mandy Moore

===

Mold

"I never liked you at Hogwarts, you know. You were so... so perfect. Too prefect, even for me. Haha, you still can make me laugh. A Weasley, too perfect for me?

"I disliked you to the point where I thought that I hated you. I hated you since the moment I laid eyes on you in Flourish and Blotts. You were just like the rest of your kin; red haired and brown-eyed little rabbits that made me want to shudder in uncharacteristic behavior. That's how much I hated you. It only worsened when you arrived at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle's diary tucked between your crossed arms.

"And I hated the way you followed Potter around. From the moment you laid eyes on him, it was all him. God, it was disgusting. Did you know what you looked like as you and him walked down the halls, one in front of the other? It was the same way a gosling follows its mother, or the first thing that it sees, from the moment of its birth. Pretty pathetic Weasley, even on your standards.

"And that stupid Valentine's, Weasley? We're what, three-years-old? It sang, for god's sake! Though Potter turned the brightest shade of red I've ever seen a twelve-year-old turn in a long time. God, it still makes me snicker.

"Bet you were pretty shocked when the Dark Mark appeared during the Quidditch World Cup. It never manages to surprise and amuse me, the thought of that stupid house elf, outsmarting you and Harry, but I knew the attack would happen long before the attack. Father told me. He always told me whatever brilliant plan the Dark Lord had created.

"What puzzled me was that even with the rising threat of Voldemolt, you still managed to smile. Did you know how much that annoyed me, Weasley? The rare times I saw it, I swear, I wanted to wipe it off your face; just rip it off and stomp on it a couple times. You were always so cheery and happy, it made me sick. All I wanted was for one day; you would be depressed and couldn't spread the disease called Happiness to everyone else in the damn school.

"You and your muggles, Weasley. That's why you're dead. You chose the wrong side, and know you've paid for it. I knew that you're father was a muggle-loving fool, but I didn't know you were, until that one time in the library. I still can't believe you read muggle fiction. The Chronicles of Narnia? Please. Who cares if they were philosophically effulgent and had depth? They were muggle and they were trash. I still believe that your deformed and dog-earred copy of 'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe' is still in on that library shelf, third window from the entrance under the book 'Magical Misconfigurations'.

"I hated the way that you could see good, Weasley. There is no good in life, Father tells me, only power, and those that are smart - and strong enough - to wield it. Tom Riddle probably told you later on in the Chamber of Secrets, but you were too weak to heed his words, you foolish girl. You'd looked at the heavens and the stars above us and sigh, completely awed and at a loss for words. You looked at the smallest of insects and smiled. You were in love with life, and for that; I hated you and resented you at the same time.

"I especially hated that one white flower, the 'pure, innocent' one that you carried around. What did you call it, the Snow Tulip? Rose, that's right. The Snow Rose. I hated it enough that I poured Unicorn's blood on it one day while you weren't looking. Its blood was from the dead one you found in the forest, and foolishly told me. I honestly don't know who killed it, but it wasn't me.

"I never lied to Weasley. I would never lie to you. What's there to lie about, anyway? That was the only beauty of our ugly, twisted relationship, you be brutally honest with your feelings with me, I be brutally honest with my feelings with you, and we could go on hating each other. That's the way it was supposed to go, that's the way it went. For a while, anyway.

"Mold grows, did you know that? If you don't stop it, it grows and overtakes everything. You were my mold. You were disgusting like it, and I should've stopped it, but I didn't. You grew on me. You're stupid eyes and that stupid smile and your stupid happiness, it all grew and overtook me. Thankfully, never enough that I would go out and prance around in the meadows or whatever you Weasley's do.

"No, the Dark Lord showed me the right path. He showed me my world, a world full of future power, easy women, money, murder, lies, deceit - a world without you. You wouldn't have survived there. I barely am surviving it. And I'm doing fine without you.

"I'm sorry you died, Weasley. I really didn't mean for that to happen, really. I wish I could bring you back, but death is irreversible. And maybe it's better this way. You can now live your life to the fullest and I can live mine in hell. You deserve whatever heaven's got up there for redheaded angels like you, God knows you've been through enough. Life's a bitch, but I'm getting through it.

"It's been two years and I'm still not over you. God, I'm sad. You were my mold, and I should've stopped it, but I was too much in love to care. I'm sorry it turned out this way."

Draco Malfoy paused a second from his monologue, then took out a white rose out of his cloak and laid it on the ground in front of the gravestone. It read 'Here lies Virginia Angela Weasley, age 18. May death only be the beginning to her discoveries. She will be well missed'.

Then he apparated away.