This is something I wrote a long time ago. I had it posted previously under a different account name, but created a new one and posted it on here. I have updated and revised this story. I hope you guys enjoy it and will let me know. Reviews and construtive criticisms are always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with Harry Potter. Those rights belong to the talented J.K. Rowling.

I never wanted anything bad to happen to her, but then again I never expected things would turn out they way that they did. We had been enemies since the very first time we met and had been even until the end. But throughout the years she had become so much more to me than just my enemy. I belittled her by calling her almost ever name under the sun, but she still stood her ground and never stooped to the level that I was at.

For many reasons she was beautiful. She never was a drop-dead-gorgeous girl, but her caring nature made her one of the kindest people in the entire school. She tried to avoid stereotypes and not be quick to judge anyone and even if they were horrible to her. However, the way my friends and I were raised we were pretty nasty to her. She tried to be as nice as she possibly could, but a few times she actually got angry enough to be violent, and it was always directed towards me.

I think I was particularly nasty to her because I found her to be extremely interesting. I had been raised to believe that her lifestyle was nasty and people like that were to be compared to the dirt under our fingernails. But I never really thought she was that low. Like I said, she was not the most beautiful girl, but she had a presence that demanded respect. She was also the most intelligent girl in our class, if not the whole school. She was loyal to her friends and would do anything for them; something my house lacked.

I have a single picture of her. She was sixteen at the time and she has Hogwarts; a History in her lap. I believe that was her fourth time reading through it, but she wasn't even looking at the books contents. She was looking off into the distance towards the Forbidden Forest with a thoughtful look on her face. She was in the dark, drab uniforms that everyone had to wear, and they collided with her pale skin. The picture was taken from the side and every now and then, she would run her hand through her bushy hair to try and get it out of her face. The picture had been taken by a member of her house who always had a bloody camera around his neck snapping at anything that wouldn't threaten to smash the lens in.

Perhaps I'm fond of this picture because the thoughtful look in her eyes reminded me of how she could see past the mask I put on for other people. She figured it out our seventh year when we were both Heads of the school, but I think she had always had an idea that it was all just a façade I put on for the rest of the world to see. After all, I had a certain image and reputation I had to keep up; certain things that were expected of me. But she saw right through it. She never did anything to jeopardize me of that position and for that, I'm eternally grateful. She never actually told me she had known about my facade, but her eyes always gave her away. She never could hide her emotions very well. I remember one time...

I was walking through the halls after dinner during our seventh and last year of school. I was Head Boy and was simply walking back to our shared dorm after my patrolling duties were completed. I was simply minding my own business why I heard very quiet sobs from somewhere ahead of me. At first I just assumed it was some fourth year that had just gotten dumped by her love obsession, but I thought I should check it out anyways.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I said down the rather dim hallway. The sobbing stopped just as I was able to pinpoint exactly where the person was. As I turned to face the person who was sitting on the floor, I surprised to find our very own Head Girl crawled in between the wall and a suit of armor.

"What are you doing?" I snarled at her.

She looked up at me, bringing her head up from in between her knees. "It's none of your business what I do, so just go away," she said rubbing her cheeks with the sleeve of her cloak.

"It may not be my business but I'm sure you've heard of the phrase, 'curiosity killed the cat?'"

"Well then, curiosity will just have to kill you then, besides, no one will miss you," she said sniffing loudly. "I fail to see how this is relevant to you bouncing your way away from me and my business."

"You have aroused my curiosity. Why would such a 'perfect' person, such as yourself, be in the hall, tucked away in a corner no less, past curfew, sobbing your little heart out?"

"In case you have forgotten, I am the Head Girl and therefore I have no curfew."

"The same goes for me... mudblood."

She stood up quickly and I finally got a complete look at her. Her hair was even bushier than ever and was partially sticking to her face. Her face was damp with tears and her eyes were red and puffy. She was quite a sight to see- and not in a good way.

She roughly shoved past me, knocking me around to the direction she was briskly walking. I rolled my eyes and slowly followed her back to our room. Stupid Headmaster and his new ideas. I reached our portrait right before it closed. I pushed on it and headed straight towards my green couch in front of the fireplace. She was lying on her Gryffindor red couch staring at the crackling flames of the fire.

"Why do you always try and burst into other people's businesses?" she asked quietly after a while.

I simply sighed and replied with the only answer I could think of. "I don't really mean to do it. It's just like a natural thing for me to do... bugging into other people's business."

She laughed slightly. "I suppose you get that from your wonderful father?"

I said nothing but just lay their staring at the ceiling. It was rather odd. Out in the hall it was like we absolutely despised each other, but once we entered our room, we could simply be ourselves. That was something we were both relieved by. She didn't have to pretend to be the least feminine girl in the school so she could concentrate on her studies, and I didn't have to be a complete jerk. After what seemed like forever she sighed rather loudly and I could hear her get up from her couch.

"My mum died," she said softly. "I hope that your curiosity will just leave it at that." She stood up and slowly walked to her bedroom door and softly shut the door.

I had later found out that her mother had simply died of natural causes and that there had not been an attack by the Death Eaters like I had originally though. I think she died from something called Leukemia. I don't know much about it because muggle diseases aren't common in wizards, but I think it has to do with bone tissue.

Shortly after she came back from taking a few days off to mourn with her family, she came back and continued with school. I would hear her crying occasionally, but she never let it show to her friends. I was jealous of her and how easily she was able to not be miserable. I guess I'm just happy being miserable.

Sometimes my patience would wear thin and I would lash out at her, especially during stressful situations. One time I was sitting in the library at my usual spot studying for the upcoming NEWTS. Nearly ever seat and table was filled with fifth and seventh years and I was the only person with a table to myself-- the pro's of being the "Prince of Slytherin", as I was commonly referred to as (and proud of it).

Like I said, I was alone, that is, until she came and sat across from me.

Normally, I would have said something rude and belittling, but under the circumstances, I was willing to be silent, as long as she was willing to be silent. This was the biggest test of our lives, and doing well was important to me, so I didn't want to worry about some petty arguments that would have most likely ensued. Needless to say she was quiet, but then her little habits began to drive me crazy.

Her quill scratching, her frustrated sighing and her chewing the tip of her sugar quill began to wear thin on my nerves.

"Do you mind?" I growled still staring at my Potion's notes.

She looked up at me innocently enough, questioning what I meant with her horribly bland, brown eyes.

"You keep sighing and scratching and biting your quill and it's getting rather frustrating for me to keep my concentration and my patience." She just rolled her eyes and went back to studying. But not even two minutes after I gave my speech, she sighed rather loudly- again.

I slammed my book shut. "Would you mind?" She simply looked up at me and stared like I was some sort of foreign species. After a few seconds, she mouthed the one word that can cause me to lose any sort of patience I may have- "no." That, needless to say, was the straw that broke the camel's back.

She looked back down at her book and I stood up. I stuck my hand under the cover of the book and slammed it in her face, coming only inches away from hitting her nose. She looked up briskly and harshly whispered, "What was that for?"

"It was for you! I'm sick of you pretending you're so bloody fantastic because you're Harry bloody Potter's sidekick. You think that makes you so bloody special, but you'll never amount to anything because you're just a filthy mudblood!" I smirked down at her, satisfied.

She shook her head and stood up slowly to face me. She lifted her head up to stare me in the eyes. "I never thought I was better than you or anyone else for that matter, unless they gave me a reason to think that I was. I do think I am more mature than you because I don't call people names to make myself feel superior! I don't try and belittle everyone in this school to make me feel like I'm better than anyone. You think that you're so much better than me, but you're not!"

By that time her voice had rose to the point she was nearly yelling at the top of her lungs. Most everyone had peaked around bookcases and turned around in their seats. Some one had told me that a bunch of people were even chanting "fight" but at that point we had zoned out.

"You think I call people names to simply try and place myself up on a pedestal? Please! I only do it because they deserve it. Like you! You're scum to me; your blood pollutes everything you touch. You try to keep your grades up so high because you're afraid that people will just make fun of you all the time. It's called 'building character!' At the first mention of mudblood you become all defensive—"

"Oh! So me being called a mudblood is not something that should offend me? You just said yourself that I'm scum and I pollute things. You're contradicting yourself! You're so stupid! Do I have to prove to you that I'm no different? That my blood isn't dirty? Here!"

She took the quill from my hand and cut her left index finger. She squeezed the tip of it until blood pooled on the tip of her finger. She grabbed a blank piece of parchment and rubbed it on it, the bright red contrasting to the taupe color of the parchment. She grabbed it and held it in front of my face.

"You see? Does it look any different than yours?" she asked tears on the verge of falling from her brown eyes. "I'm tired of trying to show you up. I'm tired of pretending to be someone who is boring and unappealing just to try and prove to people that I'm just as good as they are, if not better! They're all stuck on prejudices like you and you know what, I'm absolutely sick of it!"

After that it was like watching a Quidditch match; tons of nasty insults back and forth between the two of us. Eventually Madam Pince had gone and retrieved Professors Snape and McGonagall to try and separate the two of us. When they found us, our wands were pointed towards each other, preparing to duel.

Although, I'll never admit it to anyone, when she cut her finger and smeared her blood on the parchment, it hit me that her blood really wasn't different than mine. Now, I never really thought that her blood had dirt in it, but I always thought that something would be different about it. Maybe it would spell out the word "mudblood" or something stupid like that. But there was no denying that mine was the same crimson color, and I had to admit to myself that there wasn't any significant difference between my blood and hers.

That was probably the ugliest fight. We had received two weeks worth of detention scrubbing the potion's room, without magic. Even more insults were thrown and even a punch was thrown in my direction, but with my fast reflexes I was prepared and caught it before she could touch me.

But then she kicked me in the groin.

Now that I think back on it, she was pretty abusive towards me. Third year she punched me in the face. Then she once punched me in the stomach because I tried to wake her up in the Head's Common Room seventh year, so she wouldn't miss class. That's what I get for trying to be somewhat nice to her. Then there was the time in sixth year, we had to take dancing lessons… again…

It was sixth year and we were having another ball for some unknown reason. The staff also decided we needed dance lessons again, but with the entire year, instead of our own individual houses. And of course, they wanted to torture the two of us and decided to pair us together. Lovely, isn't it?

We stood as far apart as we could and our dancing was anything but graceful because of it. One of the professors came and pushed us closer together. I snarled at her and she glared at me. Eventually it turned into a competition to see who could step on each others feet the most. I believe I won because her feet were so tiny and she was so light, I could hardly feel anything. One day she decided to get back at me and wore high heels. I didn't even know she owned a pair of them. Needless to say, when she stomped on my foot, it didn't feel very nice.

The lessons continued for nearly a week and the abuse also continued. On the last day, each of the couples had to dance in front of everyone in our year. We were one of the first ones and the opening dance was a slow waltz. We walked onto the floor in the Great Hall. The music started and I walked over and held out my hand and she put her small hand in mine. I walked her out to the floor and slowly turned her face to me, and once I did, she had something to say.

"You know I would never ask you for anything unless it was extremely important, but I am requesting for you not to step on my feet," she whispered so that no one could hear her request.

I smirked at her, but she couldn't see it because she was still looking down. I put my hand on her waist and she grabbed my other hand and we began to waltz. This wasn't quite like all the dancing you imagine that are told in fairy tale. She tried to lead a few times and I think I might have stepped on her foot once- purely accidental of course.

The end of the song was coming and we had to twirl and then I had to dip her. We had never perfectly executed it, because I always (purposely) dropped her.

But not this time. Surprising huh?

After I twirled her, I brought her into me and slowly dipped her. Some people applauded and some grumbled because, well, to put it nicely "inter-house unity" wasn't going too well. If you want to get technical about it, inter-house unity was pretty non-existant between Slytherin's and any other house at Hogwarts.

Anyways, I pulled her back up, but I didn't let go of her. I looked down at her and just stared into her brown eyes. She mouthed 'thank you' and like any other guy would, my eyes shifted down to her lips when she mouthed it.

Then, I bloody lost control of my body.

I leaned down and pressed my lips onto hers. I remember feeling a rush of heat run through my lips and a tingling sensation in my fingertips.

But that sensation was quickly replaced with a sharp pain in my groin.

Not too many people had appreciated that, but I just blamed it on a testosterone imbalance in my brain. Ha!

I had been cornered by the two blubbering idiots she calls friends; Pot-head and Weasel. I must say, I do feel bad for her occasionally. What with two idiots for friends and with her intelligence? Who wouldn't?

They had tried to say I was using her to get Pot-head to Voldemort. Please, I was over that childish phase a long time ago.

Yes, I said it. I, Draco Lucius Malfoy did not agree to follow Voldemort. I figure once some people found out they wanted to give me a whole goblet of Veritaserum just to try to get me say I was lying. But I honestly wasn't.

At the end of fifth year I attended my first Death Eater meeting in place of my father, who was in Azkaban. It was the meeting I also received my Dark Mark. Having it branded onto my skin was the most painful thing I had ever experienced. After being branded, I expected it to be all fun and games, until they asked me to perform the Cruciatius Curse on a child. It was a little boy, probably close to nine years old. I'll never forget it. I didn't want to do it after I seen his face, but I knew I had to, so that Voldemort wouldn't have me on the spot.

I guess I had just never wanted to believe that they would do such a thing to an innocent child. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. I had heard stories about the Death Eaters ridding the world of mudblood children, I just never thought they would expect that of me, being a new member and all.

I'll never forget the cries and screams and the hazel eyes that little boy had. I think it was one of the most traumatizing things I have ever had to perform myself, and I've seen a lot of disgusting things. I don't know what happened to him. The Death Eaters probably killed him shortly after that. Afterwards I ran to the bushes and puked up everything I had eaten that day.

I was able to weasel my way out of a few of the meetings by having my mother say I was too busy with school and I didn't want to do anything suspicious and make Dumbledore question my actions.

But what they didn't know didn't hurt them.

Shortly after the incident with the little boy, I went to Dumbledore. I don't know how I worked up the courage but I think it was a fight between me and the Head Girl. She had said that I would never do anything good for someone even if it ran in front of me naked dancing the Macarena (whatever that is; must be a muggle thing).

So, I turned into a spy. I would absorb information from the Slytherin Common Room and the few meetings that I did attend and relay it back to Dumbledore. No one knew for a long time that I was on their side. Not even the Head Girl.

I remember the day Dumbledore told the rest of the Order that I was on their side.

Dumbledore had shown them my Dark Mark, which was probably not the smartest thing to do. But once I gave them some very crucial information and they acted upon it, they realized that I had turned to their side. My information resulted in the capture of four extremely dangerous Death Eaters.

Weasel decided to try and hunt me down after he saw me, but I think it was Lupin that prevented that. Pot-Head didn't take it so well either, but he sat there and stewed over it for a long time, not speaking a word to anyone. Weasel was always the more violent while Pot-Head would just pout about it.

Then there was her. The one person I was taught to despise no matter what they were like. She was the only one who accepted it right from the start. I remember her sitting in the kitchen of that old dingy house with a smile spread across her face. For the first time, it made me want to smile my first real smile.

Once Graduation came around, the tension everywhere was so thick, it was nearly unbearable. I know that is a very cliché thing to say, but it's no joke. The Head Girl and I were to decorate for the occasion. The weather had decided to be uncooperative, so we had the ceremony in the Great Hall. Everything was decorated in house colors; blue, yellow, green and red. It clashed pretty horribly if you ask me, but she absolutely insisted upon it.

My mother was able to attend and for obvious reasons, my father didn't. I met the Head Girl's father that day. I can only assume she looked more like her deceased mother, but there were a few traits she shared with her father, such as her brown eyes and her nose.

It was a rather tense moment between my mother and her. Although my mother is not as hateful towards muggleborns, she was raised a pureblood and had trouble letting old prejudices go. Her father, oblivious to the fact she was pureblood, was as kind and sincere as anyone I have ever met. It was a little sickening, but being raised in a house where affection is not a priority, I simply wasn't used to it.

They shook hands and even carried on a small conversation about what he does for a living- dentistry. The Head Girl tried to explain it to me and the only thing I could understand was that he is a doctor for teeth.

Being the Head Boy and she the Head Girl, we both had to give a small speech before Dumbledore provided us with our diploma. We had gotten into and argument over what to talk about in our speeches…

I sat at my desk in the common room with a piece of parchment in front of me and a quill in my hand. I must have sat there for nearly an hour before I could even write one sentence. She sat on the other side of the room from me, also at her desk, attempting to think of something. I eventually gave up and just went and sat on my couch.

"Have you not thought of anything to write?" she asked walking over to her couch and leaning on the arm rest.

"No. Have you?"

"Of course not. There's so much you can say about our time here. It's hard to just pick a few things to talk about."

"I have to agree, but maybe we should make a speech about the things that suck. I'm sure more people would actually listen to it."

She scowled. "You can't make a speech about the negatives, especially in the situation we're in now."

"Oh yes we can. The negatives are what people are going to remember. They're going to remember the disgusting detentions scrubbing the potions room floor, the nasty people and the people that were complete pricks."

"That's real rich coming from someone like you. I'm not saying they won't remember them, but they'll learn from them. You learn from your mistakes, and you get over them. They'll remember the laughs they had with their friends, the pranks the pulled on teachers, and the friends they made. You can't replace those things even with a terrible memory. They'll always still be there, you just have to dig for them."

"But what if you've never experienced any of that? Then how would you know what to write about?"

She sat their in silence with her arms crossed. She eventually gave up and walked back to her desk. Shortly after her quill began quietly scratching away. Glad to know I gave her some inspiration.

Eventually I had finally worked on my speech. I did talk about some negatives, but I used her example and explained that we should all learn from them. It was a rather ironic speech coming from a person like me.

We weren't required to wear our regular uniforms. Instead the Head Girl and I decided that we should simply wear black pants (or skirts for the girls), a dress shirt in the color of our house, and our robes. We wanted it to be casual but we still wanted to look nice.

After the actual ceremony, there was a banquet that our Heads of House and Dumbledore set up. Dumbledore performed some quick magic and transformed the Great hall into a banquet hall. Of course the muggles who were able to attend where amazed. I always thought that no muggle could make it into Hogwarts, but I guess Dumbledore let the wards down to let certain people in. Perhaps that's why we had to have guests RSVP.

During the banquet we were allowed to mingle with everyone, unlike the ceremony when we had assigned seats. I mostly mingled with the Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws. Hufflepuffs are a bunch of idiots and Gryffindors just get on my nerves. I didn't see her through the banquet until I was walking to leave with my mother…

I was getting ready to walk out of the Great Hall when I heard someone say my name to the right of me. I stopped and told my mother to keep going that I would meet her outside. I put my hand in my robes and drew my wand and slowly walked down the hall and around the dimly-lit corner. Once I rounded the corner I saw her standing there. I sighed and put my wand back into my pocket.

"You do know that you startled me, right?"

She smirked at me. "That's what I was going for. Look, I just had a few things I wanted to say to you."

"You want to voluntarily speak to me, I'm stunned speechless," I said feigning surprise.

"Well, if indeed you are stunned speechless, be quiet for a few minutes." I nodded my head for her to continue.

"I know that over the past seven years, we haven't exactly got a long. Two years ago, I could have sworn that you would be a death eater and would be pointing a wand in my face at the last battle. But you proved me wrong. You came over to our side and have helped us out tremendously. Saying thanks doesn't even begin to describe how thankful I am that you made this decision. I know that it's hard to let down all the prejudices you have against me, but I'm glad that this year was bearable between the two of us. So, I just wanted to say thanks."

She held out her hand for me to shake and I slowly placed my hand in hers and shook it. If this wasn't a photo-op I don't know what would be. Seeing her in her red button down shirt and me in my green dress shirt, would be enough to give someone a heart attack.

Eventually she slowly pulled her hand away from me. She looked down to the floor. "I also, um, I also got you something." She pulled something out of her back pocket and handed it to me.

It was a small box wrapped in green paper with a black ribbon.

"You can go ahead and open it now if you want," she said quietly.

I slowly opened the end of the package and pulled out the box. I lifted up the lid on the box and stared at its contents. Inside was a silver bracelet. I looked at it closer and noticed it was engraved with my initials. Although it was simple enough, it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever given me.

"I didn't know if you would like it, but-"

I held up my hand to silence her. "This is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has even gotten me. Thank you." I looked around and slowly stepped up to her and gave her a hug. When I pulled back her face was flushed and her eyes were widened.

"I have something for you." I reached into my robe and also pulled out a small box. I handed it to her and she reached a shaking hand out to grab it. It was wrapped in silver and gold.

She carefully tore the paper and pulled the box out of it. She lifted up the lid and put a hand to her mouth. Inside was a necklace. Nothing fancy. It was a gold chain with a small charm on the end shaped as a wand- her wand. The charm itself was about an inch and a half long and was gold and had silver ivy on it, the design being an identical replica of hers.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and quickly gave me a hug. It was an odd sensation. She didn't look for other people and at that particular moment, I didn't care. I didn't care that I was hugging a Muggleborn Gryffindor. At that moment, we were just two individuals who were being kind to one another.

Almost two months to the day after that moment, the Final Battle came around. The war was no short affair and it was absolutely grotesque. It lasted for nearly three months while it moved throughout the country side. A lot of people that I fought beside in the war were gone. It was certainly harder than I though. It was also hard to fight against people who I had grown up with in Slytherin. I fought against Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Parkinson. It was hard to do it, but I knew that I had to.

Finally at the end of the battle, Potter was able to destroy Voldemort. It wasn't a wonderful affair. Voldemort had put some kind of a shield around Potter and himself, so that no one could penetrate it. No one really knows what happened, but they both yelled a curse towards each other, there was a blinding green light, and Voldemort was gone. Harry never wanted to relieve the experience, so needless to say, no one will ever know what happened.

At first, everyone thought Voldemort had simply disappeared, but I knew he hadn't. I had the Dark Mark imprinted on my skin and once he disappeared, I felt this horrible searing pain. It felt like my arm was being burned off. I blacked out shortly after that. The healers and aurors that were walking around the field that evening, found me and took me to St. Mungo's for a few days to recuperate from my injuries which consisted of a broken wrist, several deep gashes and some sort of a dark hex that took quite a few days to find a cure.

Once they released me from the hospital, I tried to search for my allies. Potter survived, but was in a coma for nearly two months. Weasley was alive, but just barely. Surprisingly, many of the Order of the Phoenix survived. I don't quite remember who all died but I know that Lupin, Finnegan, Percy and Charlie Weasley died. There were many more, but their names escape me.

Then there was my former roommate. She had been admitted in the hospital a few days after me. She had more physical damage than magical. It looked as if she got in a fight with a Death Eater. She had three broken ribs, a smashed vertebrae and many cuts and bruises. However, St. Mungo's was able to fix her up rather quickly in comparison to many people.

I visited her nearly every day she was in the hospital. She would sleep most of the time and I would just sit there and watch her. I had really become mesmerized by her, almost obsessed, waiting for some kind of sign that she was going to be alright. I never put much trust into the magical monitoring systems they placed on her; maybe because it was of muggle inspiration.

After she got out of the hospital, we spent a lot of time together. We would go out to dinner and go to muggle movies, which surprised me to no end, and spent weekends with friends and family.

Then, three years after the battle I proposed. It wasn't an extremely elegant affair, but I did plan it all out. After the many hours we spent together, I had found out that one of her favorite things to do was go horseback riding in the country. I had planned a date to ride into a clearing in one of the forests near my mansion and set up a picnic. I had prepared this lovely speech, but when it came down to it, my mind went completely blank. I tried to make-up something, but I guess I made it sound more like I was trying to dump her.

"Hermione," I said, grabbing for a drink of butterbeer, "we've been together for two and a half years, and it's been wonderful, but…"

I looked up at her and she had a shocked and hurt look on her face. I definitely wasn't expecting that look, so I stopped and asked her what was wrong.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you? After all that we've been through?" she said standing up rather quickly with tears welling up in her eyes.

"What? No! Hermione, just calm down and listen to me. We've been together for over two and a half years, but I think that it's time to take it further." As soon as I said that, her eyes got big and she placed a hand over her mouth. I sat up so that I was resting on one knee and pulled a ring box out of my pocket.

"Hermione, will you marry me?"

I waited for what seemed like eternity for her to answer me. Finally she did and she quietly said yes. Tears were streaming down her face and a large smile broke out on her face. I smiled back at her and opened the ring box and placed the ring on her finger. She gasped and told me how beautiful it was.

I tried to respect her taste and it wasn't anything large and extravagant. It had a teardrop shaped diamond with a ruby and emerald on each side of it.

It shocked the entire wizarding population of England. Pothead and Weasel hunted me down. There were a few punches and kicks thrown, but eventually they came to terms with it. We get a long better now, but there is still a rivalry there.

We were married seven months later and are now expecting our first child, a boy. Life hasn't been easy. Growing with two different heritages, there were many obstacles we had to overcome. When we fight, those insulting, belittling words that I tried to give up form on my lips, but I just walk away and cool down. If I go cool down, I can think more rationally. My mother learned to accept her and her family. Once again, there's still that heritage difference, but my mum learned to get past it and get to know her better.

As I sit her and write this, I can't help but realize something. Through all the fights and insults we put each other through in Hogwarts, those feelings were always there. We were just young kids, still under the influence of our parents, and worrying about what everyone would think. We were insecure. But I've learned to let things go and accept people as who they are and not where they come from.

As I stare at the scar that is a perfect imprint of the Dark Mark on my arm I realize that although it's there forever, if I hadn't have gotten it, I would never be who I am today. I learned to trust people, and be a friend, but most importantly I learned to love.

I love my wife with all my heart. And as we prepare for parenthood, I realize that she never was my enemy. You don't have an enemy when your eleven years old. We were just two different personalities that clashed because of the views my parents upheld.

And no matter what people say she is, including me, I love Hermione with all my heart and I'm grateful that I had a second chance at life.

Never my enemy. I like the sound of that. Maybe I should write a book and title it that...