When I was ten years old, I lost my parents. My uncle Lucius brought me back and I became the little princess of the family.
The next year, the poplar wand in the cupboard, 13 inches long, with thestral tail feathers, chose me. Ollivander said it had a lifelong relationship with the unicorn hair, which was exactly the same material and length as my last wand.
That same year, I saw this wand accidentally left in the classroom by its owner. I sat in the classroom until he came into the classroom. Red hair, blue eyes, anxious eyes.
It turns out to be him, Weasley, but I already like him.
But after all, he does not belong to me. After all, I am Slytherin and he is Gryffindor. The only thing I can do is to block the death curse for him. Maybe, I don't belong to him, and he doesn't belong to me. The encounter between us is the most wonderful fairy tale.
At least that's how it seems to me. The story of how the show will not be separated.