Author's note: Reminder! I am not the original writer of My Immortal or the original writer of Harry Potter, this is simply a revamp (geddit) of the original story.

A marvellous bitch! That is how I would eternally describe Willow. She was difficult, moody, irritable and high maintenance. But truth be told, I would rather no other person be at my side than her. She was my best friend, eventually, once we had both recovered from our first meeting. I had been late to Potions -our third year if I do recall- and by the time I had arrived, there was not a single spare seat in the whole room save for the one she was taking up with her legs. I did try to use my manners.

"Pardon." I said, upon seeing this "But you are going to have to move, or I'm going to knock you off this chair and use you as a foot stool."

Her eyes wide, she had immediately made a place for me to sit. Despite all appearances, this became the beginning of a two-year friendship that essentially consisted of sitting near enough to each other to share the occasional word, but nothing much more than that.

In light of all this, I was eager to start a new year and most surprising, I was eager to see her again. This I knew for the second I saw her perched in the Slytherin common room, I couldn't help the smile on my face. She looked up blankly at me, and my smile faltered.

"Ebony." she said, with a nod.

"Willow," I responded.

"Nice weather we are having, wouldn't you say?" She had looked out of sorts, I will admit. Timid almost, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Once I may have paid this no mind, but perhaps my curiosity, at last, won out.

"Are you all right?" I queried.

Her face went dreadfully pale, and from me, she reeled back, with her palm across her lips.

"Fine. Fine. I'm fine." she said with a fervent glance over her shoulder. "Don't be silly."

I didn't believe that for a second, but she was up on her feet in a second and racing towards the dorms. "Come on Ebony. Don't want to be late!"

I didn't even have to check my watch to know we were in no danger of that, but I followed her anyway.

We were only seconds from the safety of our dorms, I'd say, when I heard this overwhelmingly egotistical laughter echo all around.

"Oh look, it's Enoby." A voice sneered.

"Ebony." I corrected before recognition made me curse. Draco Malfoy. He'd been calling my Enoby for as long as I could remember, and truthfully I had no idea why.

"What ever you say, darling." he chided.

I opened my mouth again, armed with sarcasm when another voice cut me off.

"You better fuck off and get a God damn life, you useless worm." the violence in Willow's voice made me start.

Draco stepped forward like a wraith from the dark and he struck her, right on the cheek. "Shut it, bitch." he snapped and I could see the fury edging in around his features.

My heart had leapt to a furious pace and I stepped in between the two, completely uncertain as to what I should be doing. Willow wasn't the fire brand. And as far as I could remember, Draco had never stooped so low as to hit someone like this. My voice had a dreadful tremble to it that I can only attribute to the suddenness of the situation. "Leave us alone, Draco." I tried to sound as tough as possible, but I could tell it wasn't working. Around us, an eager crowd had begun to gather, and among them, I could hear the whispers and bets. I wanted to glare at them, but I equally feared what would happen should I take my eyes off Draco for even one second. All the while, he said nothing, just looked me right in the eye, then simply stalked away, leaving me even more confused than before.

The crowd was quick to display their displeasure.

My heart was beating so fast in my chest and thick relief was coursing through me. "Any idea what that was about?" I asked Willow.

She barely looked at me for a second, then promptly burst into tears.

On a usual day like this, cold and raining with flecks of sleet as it was, I would usually find comfort in a long walk with Willow through the lush yards of Hogwarts, but her sobbing was too hysterical, her breathing to rapid.

"You must calm, or you are going to pass out," I advised.

"He's been following me around." She blurted out. "All day. I don't know what he wants but he keeps asking me all sorts things."

"Draco?"

She gave a frantic nod. "He keeps asking me how I like it. If I like it."

"It?" I prompted.

Her wide eyed look was all I needed.

"He hasn't done anything to you though, has he?" Quite suddenly I felt protective of the shivering girl at my side. She looked small and frail, with big green eyes and tumbles of black hair. I felt the urge to hug her against me.

"No." She whispered. "I suppose not."

I felt the back of my neck burning and both Willow and I turned to look. From afar, he was there watching, with cold eyes and a wicked smile.

"Let's go, quickly," I suggested.

Willow was quick to agree.

By some strange twist of unfair fate, he was waiting around the next corner we rounded. I gave a start and found myself spinning in circles to look back at the spot where we had seen him just seconds before. He was gone from there, and I suppose that should have been obvious yet I could not comprehend it.

He sauntered forward with the confidence of a cat. "You're coming out with me tonight," he said.

Was he insane? "I would rather insert my entire body into a blender."

"I have a spare ticket to a concert." He said.

"That's nice." I snapped, but when Willow and I tried to manoeuvre around him, he slammed his hand across my path.

"It would be rude to refuse." He sneered, "Besides, Enoby, If I can't take you, I'm going to have to take little Willow." His smile felt perverted like he could see right down to my innards. I wanted to punch him for making me feel so exposed, but I knew he'd just relish in the fact he'd upset me. What a disgusting individual.

"You can't make either of us go with you," I said with very careful, precise words.

"I think I can." He pushed himself away from the wall and stood upright once more. "I can make anyone do anything that I want. Right Willow?"

I could feel Willow cowering behind me, and just slightly, though I now wonder if I was mistaken, I thought I heard her whisper: Please.

It was that please that swayed me enough to snatch the ticket from his palm with as much force as I could muster.

"You are deplorable." I spat in his face.

"Oh, Darling." He whispered back, "Compliments don't excite me."