Another day at the Slytherin Table, surrounded by my so called "friends".
They aren't my friends.
Crabbe and Goyle are just...there. They follow me around, they protect me. I'm grateful to them for that. But I can take care of myself.
Pansy Parkinson? She looks like a pug, for god's sake. Her family's got connections with the Dark Lord, just like mine, which is the only reason why I had to take her to that damn Yule Ball.
I'd give anything to not be in Slytherin. The only reason that I'm here is my father told me very politely that if I didn't follow the Family tradition and get into Slytherin, he'd personally turn me over to the Dark Lord.
Not something I'd want to experience.
Thank you, father.
You show touching concern.
Hogsmeade Weekend, according to Dumbledore.
I don't really think he's that bad. He's very gifted, I must say.
Damn you, father, for having spies even in Hogwarts to keep an eye on me.
Nice to know I can't speak my own thoughts, I have to conform to yours.
Breakfast is over.
I had an apple.
Not much else looked appetizing to me.
It was red.
Like her.
Automatically, my eyes look over the Gryffindor table, searching for her.
There she is.
Her red hair pulled back, with a few strands in front of her face.
Talking to her brother.
His back is towards me. She looks past him and our eyes meet.
A jolt passes through me.
I feel my face flush, my pale skin turning a slight reddish color.
Red...just like her hair.
Just like her lips.
Neither of us looks away.
Ever hear that Muggle saying, "Eyes are the windows to the soul?"
That Muggle is a very smart man.
In those few seconds I could sense all that she was feeling.
Her anger towards her mother for not trusting her.
Her exasperation towards her brother for constantly watching her, to make sure she didn't spontaneously self combust or anything.
Her love for Harry, and her anger at herself for still loving Harry.
I thought she would look away.
She didn't.