The first time I noticed Tom, I really did not like him.

He was thirteen, and teenage boys terrified me. Especially this one.

But then again, I was only ten and, just like the character I was to portray, determined to do everything by the book.

For example, even though I had already read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone three times before I even auditioned, I read it another three times, just in case.

Tom, however, clearly had not even picked up a copy of it in his life, despite being cast as one of the prominent characters. It really did make me wonder how seriously he was taking all of this.

"Rumour has it, he was after the part of Harry Potter," Rupert confided in me when he found me frowning at the blonde haired actor who was being reprimanded for being caught once again with sweets in his robes pocket. "Must have been a blow to have lost it to Dan, especially after all the films he's been in."

"But Dan's done stuff too," I tartly pointed out. "Don't forget David Copperfield."

Rupert grimaced. "Yeah, but Felton was in the Burrowers. Who hasn't watched that?"

Tom suited the role of Draco Malfoy to a tee, I thought. I literally could not imagine him playing anyone else. He was arrogant, cocky and smart mouthed. The role was literally made for him.

As a result, I avoided him as best I could, struggling to separate him from the bully he portrayed. The God is a Skater Girl incident was the first time in that six months of filming Tom spoke to me. And that did not happen until the final month. After that, I would find myself looking over the call sheet, praying to see his number. And, whenever I did, I knew it was going to be an exciting day.

I would search him out, my stomach fluttering with butterflies every time he walked into the room. He must have noticed me staring, because he began to pay me a lot more attention, throwing me a smile here and a nod there, enquiring as to how my day was going.

Once, he even invited me to play a game of slaps with him during a location shoot, where by our hands made contact, his skin feeling cool and soft against mine.

I never wanted to wash my hands again.

I was utterly bereft on our last day of filming. All day I carried around this lump in my throat and I could not understand how it was possible for someone to feel this sad.

When it was time to wrap up, I was desperate to throw my arms around him. But I played it cool, and simply said "see you," when he said he'll catch me later.

Later... when? I wanted to grab someone and shake them - to beg them to tell me exactly when the next film was going to go into production. And please, please let them recast us all the same.

But I was only ten, and as time passed, so did my feelings.

However, every night I went to sleep, my last thought was always that picture.

******

We began filming the second movie just eight months later. They were keen to get moving before we all got too old for our roles.

The night before our first day, those familiar butterflies returned.

I thought about the boy with bleached blonde hair a lot that night, and was surprised to discover that I hadn't forgotten my feelings at all - they had just lain dormant for a bit whilst I enjoyed turning eleven.

He would be fourteen, I realised. Even more of a scary age for a teenage boy.

"Nervous?"

I looked up as Dan approached, already kitted out in scar and glasses.

"Not really," I lied, trying to act casual. "I've been studying the script all summer."

Dan chuckled, and I realised his voice sounded deeper. He was only twelve, but he looked a lot older. In fact, everyone looked older. I glanced nervously at my reflection in the window. I didn't look any different. Still skinny and baby faced. It made me feel blue.

Especially when I first saw Tom again. He was laughing and joking with one of the extras: a beautiful girl with long dark hair and a body like a woman.

Hurt ripped through me when I saw the way he looked at her. His eyes held that twinkle, his lips twitched into that smirk.

And when he began to play slaps with her, I had to turn around and leave, tears biting dangerously behind my eyes.

I vowed to avoid him, to not allow my feelings take over. I was a professional, god damn it!

But unfortunately, our filming schedules kept saying otherwise.

"Hey, Watson!"

I froze at the familiar voice, my spoon of coco pops stilling at my lips.

Twisting around in my seat, I saw Tom approaching from the top of the stairs, his yellow slicked back hair like a brilliant shining beacon, green Quidditch robes billowing behind him as he strode towards me across the top of the double decker bus.

I stared at him open mouthed as he effortlessly slid into the seat opposite me, the scent of his cologne instantly invading my nostrils, blue eyes glinting warmly into mine.

Trying not to tremble, I lowered my spoon, instantly losing my appetite. Nope. I could never eat again.

"So," he drawled, his lips twitching into that familiar smirk he usually reserved for pretty girls, "today I get to call you a Mudblood, huh?"

As his eyes pierced into mine, I found my cheeks flaming, cursing myself for not being cool. I suddenly wished Rupert or Daniel were here, they always seemed to get on well with Tom, both of whom were a little closer to his age.

To me he was still a scary teenage boy, albeit a beautiful one at that.

"Hey," Tom said softly, reaching out to touch the back of my hand, his freshly bleached eyebrows knitting in concern as he mistook my discomfort for nerves. "It's just acting, remember? If you like, we can go over the lines again?"

I pulled back my hand as though his touch had just burnt me. Realising what I had done, my face grew even hotter and I quickly looked down.

"I think I'm okay, thank you," I said in a small voice, silently cursing myself for being so shy.

He said nothing at first, and I could feel him just stare at me.

"If you're sure? Maybe afterwards you could let me thrash you at a game of ping pong. You know... to show there are no hard feelings and stuff."

My heart soared just as a smile tugged helplessly at my lips. "I'd like that." I whispered, daring myself to meet his gaze. "I'd like that a lot."

Tom grinned, his smile reaching his eyes as he reached over and swiped a coco pop from my bowl.

*****

"You know, you have to slap me in the next film?"

"Oh, right, okay." I said coolly, acting as though I didn't already freaking know.

A smile twitching at his lips, Tom put down his paddle. I tried to hide my frustration: we were in the middle of a game that I was winning.

"In Jackie Chan, they do all these cool stunts. I thought maybe we could give it a try? You've seen those films before, right?"

I'd never even heard of Jackie Chan let alone seen any of the films. But like hell was I going to admit that to Tom.

"Um- yes... okay, then," I shrugged, slowly putting down my paddle. "You mean, now?"

"Yeah, why not?" He said enthusiastically as he walked around the table towards me, eyes glinting excitedly as he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. "Come on... show me how you plan on slapping me. Do it like Jackie Chan."

Not knowing what else to do, and aware we had an audience, I shrugged my shoulders, thought about all the slaps I'd seen on tv and just went for it.

When my hand connected with his cheek, I was shocked at the response. The entire tent gasped and Tom jumped back, clutching his face and looking back at me in wide eyed horror.

"Hey, Felton - way to get twatted by an eleven year old girl!" Rupert shouted out, prompting a mass of hysterical laughter to erupt all around.

I just wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

Especially when Tom could barely look at me after that.

I was almost relieved when filming wrapped up.

******