Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

"Ginny, why are you reading that book again?"

"Sorry, Draco, I can't help feeling that we'll end up the same way."

Draco gently took the book from her hands and embraced her tightly.

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true. We could both end up dead because of this war."

"I know." he admitted.