Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon or J.K. Rowling.

When I was young, I had a friend. While my parents ignored me, only giving me attention when it best suited them; she showed me kindness and love. She showed me what it meant to belong. Everything about her reminded me of hot summer day. Her skin was tanned a golden brown, her hair shone like the sun's rays and her eyes were the colour of fresh cut grass.

I met her when she was five. She was at the park, spinning in circles and laughing. She was so carefree. I was a year older than her and I had gone to the park to escape my father. I sat alone on the bench and was content to watch her.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Me? I'm just enjoying the sun," I lie.

She pouts in an adorable way. "Well that's no fun. Come dance with me!" She takes my hand and pulls me along. I don't fight her.

Soon I found myself at the park almost daily. She was always there, but never with her parents, we had that in common.

"Why are you always alone," I ask. "Where are your parents?"

"My parents are fighting. They're always fighting. This is a much nicer place."

I smile at her and she takes my hand. "My parents are strict. I come to the park to get away."

"So do I," she sighs and leans against me.

When she was nine and I was ten, I realized that she was a witch. One day she was sitting in the field, weaving flowers into a chain, she touched her hand to a wilted flower and it doubled in size. I thought it was just my eyes but as I watched her I realized that she was indeed a witch.

It made me so happy, that I had found someone like me. I wanted to tell her the truth, but my father forbade it. For nearly a month he kept me at home, away from the park. At first I thought I missed the freedom, but soon I realized that I just missed her.

"Father! Please, I've done everything you've asked. Can I leave?"

"No," he roars. I shrink back slightly. "You will not see that filthy mudblood! You are a Malfoy. You are better than that!"

"She's a good person," I cry.

"You will not see her again. You leave for Hogwarts soon and you will forget everything about her."

I never did forget her though. I tried, and in the end I ended up bitter. I tried to be the perfect Slytherin. I shunned anyone who wasn't a pureblood, or who sympathized with mudbloods. In my father's eyes I was the perfect son. He'd moulded me to perfection. But all I could think about was her.

The next year I saw her again. She entered the Great Hall, her shoulders squared. She'd grown even more beautiful than ever and I felt a tug at my heart. My facade almost broke when I saw her but I stayed strong.

She approached the sorting hat and sat down. Before the hat even touched her head it shouted out, as loudly as possible; GRYFFINDOR. I felt my face drain of all colour and I lost hope that we would one day be together again.

I watched in anger as she sat down next to Potter. The one person I truly had come to hate. Eventually I broke down. I had to see her.

"Is it really you?" she asks me.

"It is." I hug her tightly. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you."

"It's okay you're here now."

"I am; I always will be."

We started meeting late at night. Neither of us willing to admit to our houses that we loved someone who should be our enemy. It was during that time that I realized I did love her. And that I could never love anyone else the same way. But we weren't meant to be.

"Come back, please," I beg. "I didn't mean it."

"You meant every word. I know you Draco! I'll only ever be a filthy mudblood to you." She slips through the portrait and before it closes I see her in the arms of Harry.

She was lost to me after that. I had to watch as Harry held her when she cried. I had to watch as he laughed with her when she was happy. I hated him more than anything for taking what should have been mine. It was then that I threw myself into the world of the Dark Arts. I became a Death Eater.

Sometimes when they passed me in the halls, she would look at me with sadness in her eyes. I always ignored her, pushing her away further than I already had.

When she was seventeen, Harry proposed to her and she accepted. It was just another tear in my already broken heart. I still loved her though.

"You're going to marry him?" I ask in shock. "How can you accept? You're so young."

"We're not likely to survive. We're at war. I want one happy moment. Harry can give me that."

For a month they disappeared from the wizarding world. When they came back they had been married. It was all anyone could talk about; how beautiful the couple looked together. Unfortunately, all this did was attract the attention of the Dark Lord. What better way to destroy Harry, than to destroy the one he loves?

When it came time for the Battle of Hogwarts, I finally switched sides. I could never hurt her.

Without me the Dark Lord lost his only chance of taking her quietly. I was the only one she would ever agree to meet with. I ended up with a target on my back.

"Harry!" she screams. When he hears her, he ducks just in time to avoid being hit by a stray curse.

She moves with grace as she hurls curses and hexes around the room. She's taken down nearly seven Death Eaters when my father aims his wand at me.

"You traitor," he growls. "You are no longer my son. Avada Kedavra!"

I see the green light flash and then my vision clears. It never hit me. She lies at my feet, her eyes closed. She looks serene. Ignoring the war that surrounds us, I kneel down and pull her into my arms. I cry.

To this day, I still don't know precisely what happened that day. I focused everything on her, as if I could wish her back to life. According to what I've heard, Harry defeated Voldemort immediately after he watched his wife sacrifice herself for me. Hermione or Weasley disarmed my father.

"No, she can't be dead!" Harry pulls her from my arms and cradles her to his chest.

I look at him and we share an understanding. We may be enemies but we love the same girl, and she loved us, in her own unique way. Together we cry over the girl neither of us was ready to lose.

I stand in the cemetery. Her grave sits on the top of a hill, so that she could always watch over us. I come nearly every day to sit with her. She gave up life for me. She's the only one I'll ever love.

And while Harry and I will never be friends, we've come to an understanding. We both loved her and we're bound by that. I gently place the flowers I've brought on her grave. "I'll always love you, Buffy."