When I was eleven, I met her.
I hated her.
When I was twelve, I called her names.
I hated her.
When I was thirteen, she punched me.
I hated her.
When I was fourteen, I hexed her.
I hated her.
When I was fifteen, I put a stop to her little club.
I hated her.
When I was sixteen, she was still beating me in all my classes.
I hated her.
When I was seventeen, she saved my life.
I hated her a bit less.
When I was eighteen, she forgave me.
I didn't hate her anymore.
When I was nineteen, I fell in love with her.
Who is she? I thought that was obvious...
Hermione. More precisely, Hermione Malfoy-Granger.