She loved him, she knew in the moment right then that she loved Draco Malfoy. She had probably loved him for a lot longer than a few minutes, maybe longer than she cared to admit but she knew. She knew it was more than desire, or passion, or want and need, more than friendship, more than kindness and certainly not pity. It was more than the deep harbouring crush she thought it was originally or the longing and loneliness she hoped it hadn’t been.