It was the summer of 1998. The war was over, and we had won; winning, we had lost. My family had lost more than many. My older brother had died a hero's death, but that didn't make the pain of losing him any less bitter. My father was back in the Ministry now, but that didn't change the fact that he had lost nearly a year's salary, and we had never been rich at the best of times.

I had been doing some shopping in Diagon Alley, and in the interests of taking my mind off things, I stopped by the Magical Menagerie to take a look around. They had just gotten in a new litter of adorable black kittens, and I wanted to take a closer look.

It was several minutes before I realized I was not alone.

His pale hair halfway down his back, his cold eyes staring at me, Draco Malfoy was staring at me. His face was unreadable, but I didn't have to guess at his emotions. He had spelled out his feelings for me and my family clearly enough before. Hatred. Scorn.

I refused to allow myself to be intimidated. I knew Malfoy to be a coward in all things; even his one act of semi-heroism, switching sides along with his family at the end of the war, had clearly been inspired by cowardice. He was nothing to fear. And to maintain my dignity with him glaring at me, I had to talk to him.

"Malfoy." I meant it to sound cold and level, like his own voice, but it came out hoarse and nervous. "I didn't know you had a pet."

Malfoy didn't break eye contact with me as he replied. "Not the kind you like, I imagine. No kittens. I happen to have an excellent snake. He is black, and very venomous."

"I like snakes," I replied stoutly. "Coral snakes especially are very pretty. What sort is yours?"

"Despite your evident impression otherwise, I am not interested in holding a conversation with you, Weasley. Do me a favor and go back to crossing the street and looking sidelong at me. I liked it better. Oh, and staring at my arm. For people who are horrified with my former allegiances, you are certainly fascinated with the mark of it."

Despite my resolutions not to let him manipulate me, I couldn't help staring as he slowly pulled up the sleeve of his robe, revealing a broad red scar where the Mark had been on his arm.

"Didn't you hear me, Weasley? Stop staring at me." Before I could react, his wand was in his hand. I recoiled in terror, assuming I was going to be at the receiving end of one of his infamous jinxes. The quick spark didn't hit me at all, though; it took me a moment to figure out what it had hit.

Just behind me, the latch of a cage of toads had snapped up. The toads, being rather stupid creatures, took a few moments to notice it; then, all at once, they started croaking and leaping against the door. The fourth toad managed to swing it open, and hopped from the low shelf to the floor. Several others followed suit.

"What are you thinking?" I demanded, wheeling from the toads to face Malfoy again. "Go close it!"

"I, dear girl," he drawled, not moving from his slouch, "have done nothing. Anybody can plainly see that I have not moved from this spot. You, on the other hand-"

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Infuriated, I slammed the cage door close and latched it.

"If you haven't noticed, there are still several toads loose. You might want to replace them before the shopkeeper finishes his paper. Arthur's paychecks don't have wiggle room in them even for toads, or so I hear."

The twit. Could he be more infuriating? First he mocked my family, now he was forcing me to get down on my hands and knees and crawl all over the floor to find a lot of toads. Because he was perfectly right; I had been opening cages and handling the animals, anyone who saw the situation would immediately assume that I was at fault.

I have my pride, but I like to imagine I am rather practical, too. Muttering to myself, I knelt down and fished behind a display shelf of rat feed for a wayward toad. Draco just watched me, smirking.

It didn't help with the humiliation factor that Malfoy had an ungodly sort of beauty. Now, don't get me wrong: I don't fall for prats, no matter how attractive the prat in question might be. It was just bloody unfair, that's all. Why couldn't a decent Gryffindor boy, or even a Ravenclaw, have that hair. Those eyes...

I shuddered a little as I retrieved another toad, remembering that those eyes were still trained on me, with Malfoy's haughty gaze. Maybe I could do without them, after all.

As I slammed the door on the last toad, I snapped at Malfoy, "That was completely unnecessary. Do that again and I will report you-and with your reputation, any sane person would believe me."

Malfoy stifled a yawn. "Your threats bore me, Weasley. I've had my fun-and believe me, I've seen more than you think I have."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He almost smiled as he passed me, striding out of the store. His blond hair flew out behind him, brushing against my cheek. "You think I'm beautiful, Ginevra. Like a coral snake. Beautiful and deadly."

Then he was gone, leaving me standing in the pet store with slimy hands, scarcely able to breathe.