The first time he saw her, he was twelve years old. His father and hers were arguing, something he usually would have watched with glee (especially because his father was beating a Weasley) but all he could focus on was the pretty little eleven year old standing next to Potter, red hair shining in the sunlight that filtered through the windows. She was frowning. Subconsciously, he realized he didn't like that.
The second time he saw her, at the Sorting Ceremony, was when he realized he had a small crush on the Weasley girl.
She didn't notice his stare from where she sat with her brothers and Potter, grinning beautifully at the thought of being with them.
He'd wanted her in Slytherin.
The third time was in the dead of night, at the end of the year. She was resting in the hospital wing, he'd heard and he wanted to check up on her. It took him twice the time it should've to reach her because he kept turning back in self-denial, trying to talk himself out of this 'crush' he had on Ginny Weasley.
He only managed to catch glimpses of her during third year, in the Great Hall. He grew to treasure those moments, being able to watch her laugh and smile as she sat with her friends and family, unaware of him.
The fourth time he saw her, really saw her, was at the First Task in the Triwizard Tournament. She was focused totally on the four competing, cheering, gasping, and occasionally screaming with the rest of the crowd, but she never left his sight as he ignored his surroundings (for the most part—there was no way he was going to let a dragon singe his hair or something—how could he work up the courage to talk to her if he looked like a house-elf that had a pyromania problem?).
She'd gotten even more beautiful, if that was possible, since the last time he'd looked at her.
The fifth time, it was around the Yule Ball. He'd decided he would ask her, knowing how unlikely a positive answer would be, but he decided not to dwell on that.
He'd tracked her down one Saturday morning, to the Owlry, where she was accompanying Hermione Granger as the bushy haired girl (he'd mentally stopped calling her a mudblood, knowing that would lower his chances with Ginny to below nonexistent) sent an owl to her parents. Hiding behind the door slightly, so he could wait to talk to Ginny alone, he caught the majority of their conversation, which was focused on the Yule Ball, just like all the other girls in Hogwarts.
"—he asked me today, Hermione—"
Draco froze, feeling his heart clench in his chest before dropping exponentially.
"—Neville, he's asked me to the Yule Ball."
The blonde turned around swiftly, trying to deny the feeling in his chest that matched the tears gathering in his eyes.
He cursed this crush, but he could never—would never—curse the girl.
The sixth time, he was keeping them all in Umbridge's office as she took Granger and Potter off to the forest to see Merlin knows what.
He didn't fight much when she and the others managed to escape.
Sixth year reminded him much of his third year, but he was much less innocent and much more focused on ways to keep his family and fellow Death Eaters from finding out about his crush—though he was fairly certain it was beyond that now—on the youngest Weasley.
He still treasured the moments he saw her in the Great Hall.
The seventh time, he was fighting in the Great Hall, against a Hufflepuff he vaguely recalled from a few of his classes, but he never bothered with names of those he considered below him, focused on Ginny too much to care.
He knocked the Hufflepuff out, since he didn't particularly feel like becoming a killer, and saw her as he turned around.
Her hair had gotten redder, longer and much more beautiful despite the dirt that caked it and the rest of her from the castle's remains.
He'd never seen a better sight than what he saw then. He didn't think he ever would.
An image of her in white, walking gracefully towards him, flashed through his mind.
Then again, that might've been the spell that flew by his head, forcing him back into the battle and away from thoughts of spending the rest of his life with this girl—this Ginny Weasley.
The eighth time, he was older. They both were. Both married, both with children, both with lives. But hers was happy. His, on the other hand, was not. He hid it well, as he did love his son, but he knew that if Scorpius had that typical Weasley hair he'd love him even more.
That was one of the last times he ever saw her, smiling just as beautifully as she had the second time he'd seen her.
But Draco Malfoy knew he would never forget that particular red-head. Ginny Weasley; his first and only love.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
My roommate Kenichi Farfello and I made a list of unlikely things Draco would do. This is the first one we (well, I (she approved it)) wrote. Kind of proud of this, considering it's only 865 words.