draco malfoy was in love. completely and utterly and irrevocably in love. draco has been in love since the day he was born. she was there. their mothers have been friends since they were children. 2 wealthy connected pureblood families of equal squalor. you and draco grew up together. you were friends before you could walk. you’ve known each other as long as you’ve known your parents. it started as an easy friendship. then a touchy friendship. then boyfriend and girlfriend. your parents were overjoyed by it. they had always hoped you guys would end up together. 3rd year at hogwarts comes around. pansy parkinson has pined for draco since they were all children. draco has only ever known what it’s like to love you. to kiss you. to hold you. did he want more? were you not enough? 3rd year at hogwarts draco malfoys thoughts consumed him from the inside out. he kissed pansy. he wanted to know. he needed to know. he hoped you would never find out. but you did. pansy has never been known to keep a secret. or for her subtlety. the word spread the next day. and draco was wrong. being with someone else was wrong. it was you. it was always you. there was never supposed to be someone else. but he’s too late now. what’s done is done. you left hogwarts that year. your parents and you moved back to france. you were sent to beauxbatons. draco stayed with pansy. he consumed himself with her to try to make up for his mistakes with you. but he never stopped thinking of you. loving you. feeling the phantom sense of your touch. now it’s 7th year for everyone at hogwarts. and you’re back. but you’re not the same. you’re beautiful. and it doesn’t go unnoticed. emerald green eyes that look identical to the jewel. they don’t hold flakes of other colors. they are just the vivid emerald. long black perfect ringlet curls with stands of pure silver threaded in. it is natural. there is no potion. no spell. no magic. that could recreate it. your family’s signet ring rests on your pointer finger. you dress in dark fabrics. greys, blacks, emerald, silver embroidery. and pansy notices how draco still looks at you. every girl does. and they want him to look at them like that. so the imitation starts. every witch copying your hair. your clothes. your demeanor. it doesn’t work. it couldn’t. the curls are messy and frizzy. the clothes don’t replicate your stunning figure underneath. and the heavy french accent you have can’t be replicated. but not for lack of trying. witches start speaking in broken french and fake accents on their english. it is pathetic. it is desperate. and the boys still overlook them. to look at me.