"I told my mother the summer before the fourth year. She got angry and told my father. He was furious. I believed they would understand that they would put my needs before their prejudice. It was foolish of me to expect that from them, but I was only a boy then. I think I started liking you when I saw you in that ridiculously maginficent dress at the Yule Ball. That’s when I started seeing you as something more, as a girl I might fancy. Of course, I knew it would be impossible for us to work out, not only because my family would never give their blessing, but also because you would never see me as anything else but your bully. So I repressed those feelings. Actually, I might’ve been repressing them for far longer, perhaps even since the first time I met you - I was instantly drawn to you because of your intelligence. I grew up surrounded either by actual fools or by those who tried so hard to please me that they ended up seeming stupid. I was never challenged intellectually—until you. And I loathed you for being as smart as me, no, smarter than me. But I didn’t ever mention you again, not after my parents lashed out on me. They couldn’t possibly have known that the small infatuation would turn into a full-on obsession over the next few years."