She was absolutely stunning. She always was. She had long red hair that nearly reached her bum and it curled and waved ever so gently. She had warm dark brown eyes that enraptured anyone who had the pleasure of seeing them in person. Her name is Rose Weasley. She had lived her entire life in the spotlight because of her parents. She was seen in magazines at movie premiers and fancy luncheons. She always had the right clothes, the right smile and the right friends, most of which her family. All the females in the Weasley Potter family were jaw-droppingly gorgeous. But Rose was different. She always had been.
She was my biggest rival. The only person that I ever came across that would make me try harder or fly faster. She was stubborn and fiery and passionate and downright addicting. She would glare at me with the full force of her chocolate eyes and I would stare back hoping she wouldn't see how intimidated I was by her. I picked on her here and there, every once in a while so she would look my way. Point those eyes in my direction for once. I scarcely ever saw her smile. Not that she couldn't, no, it was mostly because every time she did it wasn't directed at me. She made my blood boil and I couldn't get enough.
I thought I hated her, for seventeen years I thought I hated her. I thought it was because she was arrogant or narcissistic but I later discovered she was neither of these. She was a Weasley and that was it. The only reason to hate her. I should have hated her. But I didn't.
The first time I ever saw her smile at me was when we were in Flitwick's class. She had just gotten news that she had been chosen to be the seeker for the ravenclaw team. She was literally bouncing with excitement. She accidentally sent the rocks we were supposed to be levitating in my direction. I was sent flying backwards off my chair and onto my arse in a matter of seconds. The whole class burst into laughter and Rose even had her lips pulled back to reveal her snow white teeth. That was the first time I ever thought Rose Weasley was beautiful. From that moment on I never considered her, even for a second, anything less than stunning.
The first time I ever touched her was when she discovered that her closest companion and her cousin, Albus, was transferring to Durmstrang Institute for a year. She had just found out the news in the great hall and had rushed out in a huff. I was walking down the hall and spotted her, determined to remain out of sight. I wanted to know if she was okay. She had her back turned to me her head held high looking out the window. I moved forward slowly and put my hand on her shoulder, I couldn't resist trying to comfort her in any way. She turned toward me, her face solemn, she didn't look surprised at my being there. Her eyes were lined with tears but only one lonely drop fell down her cheek. She had never been one to cry. I saw the loneliness in her eyes and couldn't stop myself from pulling her close. She tensed at first but she relaxed when she realized I didn't want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her and I never could intentionally from that day on. I just wanted to show her that she would never be alone. She would always have me. She never let her tears fall. She simply allowed me to wrap my arms around her and make her feel safe.
The first time I ever got jealous over her was in our fifth year at Hogwarts when Lysander Scamander finally had the courage to ask Rose out. It was well known that he had liked her for some time. She had agreed and they began to hold hands and occasionally kiss around the grounds. Time and time again I had to resist the urge to hit Scamander. I fantasized about seeing blood spurt from his face at my hands. I couldn't bear to be in the same room as either of them and when I was forced to be with both of them, it was pure torture. One day I just couldn't take it anymore. I was down by the lake, up against my favorite tree when they had come hand in hand along the beach. I scowled and tried with all my might to forget about them but her voice rang clear and high above all other noises of nature. She was trying to tell Lysander that she didn't want to see him anymore but he was begging her to give them another chance. I glanced at her face and I could tell she was conflicted. She didn't want to hurt Lysander and she was actually considering giving into him. I stood up and charged toward them. Toward her. I took her by the hand and pulled her away, ignoring Scamander's confused bellows. I marched her toward the caves and sat her down on a rock. She was angry, but so was I. She asked me again and again why I did that, why it was even my business and I just looked at her. I didn't want to lie to her but I would only scare her with the truth so I told her the only thing I could tell her, If she didn't know now she would soon find out.
The first time I ever kissed her was when we were both assigned patrol duty on the third floor corridor. She had turned to me and asked me why I had pulled her away from Lysander. She wanted to understand what was going on in my mind and I too wished I had understood. She crinkled her nose in that adorable way she does right before she's about to go mad. She started screaming at me that I had no right to determine what happens in her life as I was not a part of her life. She kept rambling and shouting and getting all red faced. I was supposed to be angry at her. Supposed to want to fight but all I could think about is how wonderful her lips must feel after getting all that exercise. I swear my eyes must have not strayed a single time from hers because suddenly she grew very quiet. She turned a bashful shade of red and she stubbornly fought to hold our eye contact although I knew she wanted to look away. I slowly crept toward her and she backed up until her back was flat against the wall. Her porcelain skin screamed for me to touch it. I reached up and ever so slightly brushed the hair out of her eyes. I could feel her breath on my lips and it made my mouth water in anticipation. The tension grew to an undeniable, insatiable level and I knew the only way I would ever be sane again was if I kissed this girl in front of me. I leaned in close and smelled the fresh scent of Rose Weasley. No combination of any flowers or citrus fruits could ever come close to the scent that was purely her. She closed her eyes, her eyelashes just barely sweeping her cheeks which were glowing a beautiful pinkish hue. I gently let my lips touch hers but something inside needed more. I wanted to be sweet and chastise with her but I needed her to be as close to me as physically possible. I pulled her close, ravaging her mouth. She accepted the challenge and came at me just as forcefully. We slowed down after a couple of minutes, or years, or even lifetimes, I wasn't quite sure. I kissed her softly and gently and let her take in what I was trying to show. I wanted her to know that she mattered to me. More and more everyday and although her power over me had scared me, I was ready for it. I wanted it. I craved it.
The first time I realized I loved Rose Weasley was the day of my quittage match against Ravenclaw. I chanced a look at her every once in a while and I realized that she looked conflicted. She was wearing all Ravenclaw material except for her mittens which were lined with gold stripes. Gold for Gryffindor. She secretly cheered me on even though she had sworn she would never speak to me ever again after that "stunt" I pulled on patrol. I smiled at her devilishly and she smirked in return. My heart hammered against my rib cage in the hope that she would soon let go of her anger toward me. I was sorry that she was angry but I was not sorry that I had kissed her and I had told her so. She was surprised at my blatant outburst of confidence and had stormed away in confusion. I tried to focus on the game at hand but images of parts of her always rose to mind. Her hair in the early spring sun, her delicate hands working diligently over a homework assignment, her lovely figure that made my blood boil just being near, or her brilliant eyes that seemed to capture every emotion I have, even before I have them. I was still daydreaming about her when a bludger came flying at my head. It had just barely missed my head but the surprise of having it nearly decapitate me made me lose balance on my broom. I began to fall a treacherous seventy-five feet and just barely managed to hold on to my broom. That was the moment I realized I loved her. On the way to my certain death, the only face that my conciousness could conjure up was that of Rose Weasley. Her brown eyes that held just a hint of green, welcomed me into sudden abyss. They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you know you are going to die but the only life that I had was with Rose. I decided that if I could make it through this fall I would tell her how I felt. I woke up five days later in the hospital wing, holding on to a blue and gold mitten.
The first time I told Rose that I loved her was a week after I woke up. She was sitting by her family, just eating. I was two tables away wishing she knew how agonizing it felt to know that she was perfectly happy, going about her day, and I was fighting to get a grip on myself because of said girl. I wasn't eating, I couldn't sleep and my friends had all but given up on me ever holding a solid conversation. This was the day. I had told myself that everyday for a week that this was the day that I would tell Rose that I loved her. I was just about to get my courage up when she turned her head. She was looking at Lily. I could see the side of her face instead of the back of her head and I saw her smile. All of my courage backed out of me in that single moment and I was once again mad at myself. I stood up and was about to walk out of the great hall in a huff but then I chanced a glance back at her and saw him. Lysander was talking to her again. She was clearly uncomfortable and he was clearly trying to get her back. I stopped thinking. My feet carried me to where she was and I took her hand forcefully again. Lysander growled at me but I turned around and was about to leave when he pulled my shoulder to stop me. I glared at him with the coldest expression I could muster but he kept pushing. I hit him square in the jaw and dragged Rose out of there. She struggled the whole way until I could find a corridor that was unoccupied. I let her go and turned to face her. She screamed, "What the hell do you think you're doing Malfoy?" her chest was moving up and down rapidly, no doubt from the anger. The spark in her eyes grew to a raging fire and her hair was a beautiful mess.
" I had something to tell you." I said quietly and she kept yelling. She told me how wrong it was to hit Scamander even though in my opinion he deserved it. She rambled on about how I wasn't her property and I couldn't drag her where ever I wanted whenever I wanted. Then she talked about how it wasn't my business if Scamander wanted to start a relationship again. It was between her and him. I knew she was right but I still felt hurt for some reason.
"I don't want you to go out with him again!" I shouted and not missing a beat, she retorted with a "why not?"
I made sure that my eyes had met hers as she searched for my response. I stepped toward her so that our noses were inches from touching.
"I don't want you to date him because he's not good enough for you Weasley. He doesn't understand you like you should be understood. He doesn't dream about you even when he's awake. He doesn't lose his mind like I do. He doesn't...love you, like I do." The truth of those words being spoken out loud made me back down a bit. I couldn't seem to hold her eye contact. I stumbled back a couple steps hoping she'd say something. After a couple minutes I chanced a look into her eyes and she was stunned into silence. She turned her head slightly to the side, as if that would help her understand the joke I was trying to pull. I gave her nothing but honesty. Air escaped her lungs as if she had been holding it in and she smirked ever so slightly. That smirk grew into a full bound smile and she stepped closer. Her delicate hand was cool on my cheek as she force me to look at her. She leaned in and I met her with my lips half way.
That was the first day of the rest of our lives.