"It's effortless to let go of self-absorbed people. It's challenging to let go of someone you care about and it's exceedingly difficult to let go of an ideal and a belief in someone because what exacerbates the disappointment of finding out they weren't who they presented themselves to be, is the betrayal of it."
― Donna Lynn Hope

"Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime."
― Mineko Iwasaki

I'm writing this under the safety of my duvet cover. The other girls are long asleep. Nothing seems right anymore. Everything's complicated- the lives of my friends and I have become an enigma to this school. I'm no longer Rose, the girl who has hated and hexed Scorpius longer then everyone else. I'm now Rose, that one's friend.

I'm writing this like a mystery, because it is one. Perhaps it isn't a murder mystery, but it's pretty darn close.

(I will write it in present tense, because Professor Binns says I'm crud at doing essays in past tense. )

That day. October 31st. Halloween. 6:00.

I glare at Malfoy from across the Great Hall. He sits all snuggly and happy in the Ravenclaw table. While I'm horrified at the thought of sitting at his table, he couldn't care less about mine. Some sort of 'Inter-house friendship' thing, or so-said Headmaster McGonagall. I glare my extremely-dangerous-I-will-soon-claw-out-your-eyes glare, even bending my finger tips and showing him my menacing 'claws'.

He laughs.

That evil, evil bloke. How dare he ignore my extremely-dangerous-I-will-soon-claw-out-your-eyes glare?!

I turn to see that most of his house is copying my glare. And they're focused right at me.

"Merlin!" I groan loudly, and Vibrissa Zabini jumps from two seats from me. She scooted away when she saw who I was. "It's just hate-on-Rose day, isn't it?"

The slytherins blink.

Ha, I think dryly, I managed to confuse snakes. Now, how to escape their den..?

Eventually I give my eyes a rest from racing around the hall. I've come to the conclusion that the Slytherin is unescapable, like Alcatraz- but when it was still filled with criminals. If I attempt to escape, I'll be eaten by the sharks that are the teachers.

Malfoy's eyes meet mine. His grey orbs gaze, amused and entertained, into my blue ones.

"Curse you to the dakrest abyss, Malfoy," I mutter darkly. "May you be tortured in, and after death..."

Vibrissa Zabini interrupts my evil cursing. "You mean he'll go to hell?"

"Um," I say, cocking my head. I'm prepared to laugh, and say 'you idiot! No!' but she's right. "Yeah.."

She starts to laugh. Her head swings back, black waves flowing after. "Oh, that's hilarious." She says, when she finally calms down. "I mean- come on! Every Slyhterin will go to hell! It's natural!"

My theory that all Slytherins are both vile and deranged has just been proven. "Uh, right. You're right." I say honestly.

"I hope hell has liquid-fire and acid," she continues. "I'd just love to watch Parkinson's bones dissolve... listen to her piercing, girly scream..." Vibrissa cackles darkly.

It's my turn to scoot away. That girl disturbs me.

Annete Bonswoi grins, and joins the conversation. "Oh! I'd pay to see Mara Brown tied by the foot, upside down, over a volcano!"

The two squeal excitedly. "Who would you like to see tortured, Weasley?" Asks Annete.

I decide to repeat my earlier words. "Malfoy."

"And how?" Probes Vibrissa, fascinated.

"Hm," I consider it. Acid and volcanoes have been taken, so... "By learning how to knit, like a muggle," they giggle. "Then, to be put, blindfolded, in a garden that takes up the same amount of space as Hogwarts, and for someone to drop a jelly bean into the long grass, and he has to find it without rest. Then, to be tied by the foot, upsidedown, over a crowd of crazy, boy-mad girls for eternity." I take a deep breath after all that.

Vibrissa and Annete are quiet for a moment, then Vibrissa speaks.

"Wow."

Annete goes on. "Pure genius. He could stay in hope that one would be his last torture, and then be pushed into another trouble! Brilliant!"

I choke. I half expected the two girls to begin attacking me and defending Malfoy. Maybe they aren't so crazy after all...

"Let's make a new start, girls." I say, smiling. "Hello, I'm Rose."

"Izza."

"Ann."

We shook hands. I poked both of their shoulders, and pointed at Malfoy. He wore a shocked expression, his jaw dropping to the ground.

We odd three snickered. Friends, now.

"We are friends," I began solemnly. "For our similar hatred of Scorpius Malfoy."

"Agreed," chorused Izza and Ann.

After I left the great hall, I started to make my way towards the stairs.

"Weasley," Malfoy's droning voice comes from behind me. I stop, halfway up the second step. "What were you doing with Vibrissa Zabini and Annete Bonswoi?" His tone suggests he thought I'd have ran screaming from the table at seeing them. I don't tell him that I nearly did. The Bonswois and Zabinis are etcentric, rich pureblood families. Not much of a surprise he didn't expect them to socialize with me, a Weasley half-blood blood-traitor. Eh, but he was wrong.

I decide to mock him. "Oh!" I exclaim fakely. "You mean Izza and Ann?" I say, putting emphasis on their nicknames. I pause for a minute, smirking as he always does. "Just talking about torture methods, and how much we all despise you!" Finally, I see how well those two topics go together.

Then, as if on cue, the staircase starts to shudder, and then moves on to the jext flight of stairs. "Seeya, jerk!" I call down to him, confidently.

When I reach my common room, I greet my two best friends.

Hazel Level and Eliza Coquard. AKA, Haze and Liza.

"Hey guys," I say, plopping down on the blue sofa. Haze is on a white armchair, and Liza lays on the silver rug beside her giant cat, Henrie.

"Made new friends, eh?" Asks Haze jokingly, placing down her copy of "Chocolate frogs and Summer Love" . Neither of the two are jealous. They never are. "Replaced us already, eh?"

"Definitely." I jest with her. "Who needs you losers when I can talk torture methods with the Slytherins?"

Liza laughs. "Oh yeah," she says. "I can relate to that. I would definitely ditch you two if opportunity passed me."

"We really were!" I insist. "Vibrissa Zabini, Anneti Bonswoi and I are all friends. They appreciated my idea of putting Scorpius Malfoy in hell for eternity!"

Liza and Haze snicker. "I would have to agree on that one," they say in sync, then turn to each other, and begin barking with laughter again.

See? I have the best, most cheerful friends on the planet.

"Thank God I don't have to see him for the rest of the day," I sigh, content.

Liza and Haze exchange worried looks, but I see flickers of entertainment in their eyes.

"Rose," Liza says tentatively. "What about..."

"Your rounds." Haze finishes.

I bang my head against the coffee table. "Why?" I croak miserably.

"Because we're prefects," Liza huffs. "Toughen up, you coward."

This gets me up, "no way!" I say, feigning hurt. "I am a wonderful person."

"Absolutely," Haze says sardonically, laughter in her - you guessed it- hazel brown eyes. "Like when we first met, you shoved me onto the train tracks and nearly killed me."

I send her an apologetic sorry. "I didn't mean to..." I mumble.

"And when we had a fight, and as revenge you went and told Malfoy I was in love with him, and he acted all awkward and confused around me for the rest of the year..." Liza goes on. "And that time when you-"

"Okay!" I sulk. "I'm not a wonderful person." Liza and Haze look proud. They must think I'm modest now. "I'm just wonderfully flawed."

"Ro-se!"

As I prepare for rounds, I suppose I should inform you of my reasons for extremely disliking Scorpius Malfoy. I will begin at the best place to, the beginning.

I was eleven, giddy, hyper, and rather insane with my fiery pigtails flying around after me. Dad shoved me lightly, and told me to beat some snooty-looking blonde bloke in every test. I promised I would. I skipped around merrily, swinging my trunk and laughing crazily as people dived for cover from the monster that was I. It wasn't long until I actually wacked someone with my weapon. A girl with hazel eyes and light red hair squeaked as my trunk began to, in slow motion, speed towards her.

It was like in some sort of movie. I screamed that dramatic -still in slow motion- "Noo-ooooooo~!" and she fell down onto the tracks. I jumped after her and helped her stand up. Nobody saw us- except Liza and.. an unwelcome jerk. Liza cried out and rushed over to us, sticking her hand out, we, one by one, took it and got back up. Liza, Haze and I became friends at that moment. But we became best friends when we all scowled darkly at Scorpius Malfoy, who was sniggering and pointing inconsiderately. Haze and I could've been ran over by a train and smushed into only red remained- and he'd still laugh.

Then, when I was sorted into Ravenclaw a few hours later, he called out to the great hall: "Guess Weasley isn't brave enough for her parent's house!"

I nearly strangled him then.

I swear, when I see Scorpius Malfoy, my thoughts go from cookies to: Must... not... smack... Must... resist... the urge...

Liza and I part ways, as she heads up around the atronomy tower, and I travel down to the dungeons. I scowl when Malfoy comes into sight.

"Weasley," he sighs tiredly.

"Malfoy," I snap crossly. I'm not really too angry. He just irritates me.

"Let's get on with it," he grunts, turning his back on me and strolling down one bend in the Potions Corridor. I shiver. The dungeons have always freaked me out.

Part of me considers tackling him to the ground- for whatever reason. The way he just ignored me makes me feel like he thought I just wasn't worth it. He probably did. I want to catch his attention- EW! NO! Not in the lovey dovey way! MY MIND IS SCARRED!

Okay, now that that's over, I will continue.

Replay...

I want to catch his attention, because I hate being ignored. I hate a lot of things, and yes, Malfoy does count as a 'thing'. Suddenly an ear piercing shirek runs through my ears.

"Malfoy," I whisper nervously. He doesn't answer.

I groan worriedly. This feels like some sort of cheesy horror/romance film... Where did that term come from, anyways? Pizza is cheesy. Hugo's socks smell cheesy. But how can a book or a movie be cheesy? How is that even possible?

Then I shriek. Someone's hands are on my shoulders.

A voice mutters into my ear, "boo".

Malfoy.

This is too cliche. Really. It's even Halloween.

"Ha ha ha." I say, abruptly bored. "Guess it was you screaming, too?"

Malfoy looks confused. "I thought that was you?"

"Well obviously... it wasn't." I say. I look around the corridor, past Malfoy. I somehow feel all edgy and paranoid.

"Eh," Malfoy shrugs carelessly. "Probably the fifth years, looking for a laugh."

I don't think so, but I nod, and walk further down the halls.

If this was a silly (the word 'cheesy' is getting on my nerves) horror movie, some sort of murderer or monster would appear out of the empty classroom. I'm so paranoid, that I whip open the door and yell: "Ha!"

Well, that was embarrassing.

You know, before Malfoy acted the twit, I was about to forgive him for all the wrong he's done me. What, with all the kindness Izza and Ann showed to me, I thought: Good Merlin, maybe I will renounce my stereotyping of the Slytherins and give them all a chance.

Now I say 'to heck with that idea', because, as I've said, I'm a wonderfully flawed person.

Malfoy's flawed too.

In a not-so-wonderful way.

Another scream roars out through the halls. It's definitely a girl's. I shudder involuntarily, I really don't want to know what's happening.

"Weasley," says Mafloy, materializing beside me. "Was that you?"

"No," I say shortly. I give him my newly accomplished how-dare-you-think-I-scream-at-the-dark-like-an-idiot glare. Or, I meant to. Really, it just came out as a gosh-you-are-such-a-chauvinist-git glare.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath. He clears his throat. "Maybe we should check it out."

"You think?" I mumble sarcastically, already heading towards the stairs. "I think it came from floor three."

"You think?" Malfoy mimicks me mockingly. Except, it sounded a lot less cool from his mouth.

I step onto the first Grande Staircase. It begins to float off without Malfoy, but this time he hops on stealthly.

"Dang it," I say. "Why do you have to be so athletic?"

Malfoy smirks, but doesn't say a thing.

I've decided to list my 10 most famous glares. In ascending order, here they are.

The:

gosh-you-are-such-a-chauvinist-git glare.

You-are-so-stupid-you-idiot-so-back-off glare.

You-really-annoy-me glare.

You-really-scare-and-distrurb-me glare.

I-really-hate-you glare.

Leave-me-alone-my-ego-is-scarred glare.

Professor-I-despise-you-for-giving-me-this-essay glare.

I-shall-attempt-to-refrain-from-killing-you-now glare.

Extremely-dangerous-I-will-soon-claw-out-your-eyes glare.

Malfoy-get-out-of-my-life-you-twit! glare.

As I adventure higher up the stairs, I make up some reasons that someone could be screaming. 1. Dare. 2. Scare. 3. Nightmare. Then I realize how they all rhyme, so I laugh out loud, and Malfoy gives me an odd look.

He finally decides that I'm just insane, and mutters: "weirdo".

Somehow, this offends me. Malfoy's ego is huge and never shrinks. My own is large, but every nasty word spoken to me scars it and it gets smaller.

"So says the boy who was beaten by a girl -moi- in a duel," I scoff rudely.

He turns to face me competetively. "Your curse went off aim and hit my wand- which electrocuted me!"

"I still won." I tell him proudly. "And I so hit your wand on purpose." Lie -cough- lie.

"As if. Your parents are probably so disappointed that their daughter can't even succeed in the disarming charm."

This hits me like a brick. "Nobody. Insults. My ego." I literally growl. Here comes nuber six on m glare chart: Leave-me-alone-my-ego-is-scarred glare.

"What?"

"Your parents are probably so disappointed that their son isn't a death eater!" I screech at him.

Fire burns in his eyes. Flames of pure fury. "You miserable mudblood!"

I take a step back. I can feel my eyes go wide. The word 'mudblood' is a curse word. The m-word. It is banned here, now, for being so cruel.

Malfoy's eyes, once a blaze with anger, now large with realization.

"Oh, Rose," he begins. But I'm so upset I don't even take in that he's -for once- used my first name. "Look, I'm s-"

I push him out of the way. "Shut up, jerk." Out of indignation, I add savagely, "you're just like your grandfather."

And then I'm on the ground. He stands above me, furious and near-bloodthirsty. "Never. Compare me. To. Him." He hisses.

And I stumble backwards. He blinks, like he's surprised that I'm lying on the floor. He winces when he sees the fear in my eyes.

"You're no better," I murmur. He hears me, but his eyes don't flare up, they just look sad.

"I don't mean to," he says quietly, and he walks away.

That optimistic side of me attempts to brighten things up: well, that is one emotional, dramatic moment.

I completely agree with my optimistic side.

Someone knocks me over as I walk a few feet away from Malfoy.

"Uncle Harry?" I ask, bewildered. I recognize the scraggly black hair and crooked glasses immediately.

"Sorry Rose," he says gently, helping me up. "We've got to get to the second floor, main hall as soon as possible." And he brushes past, and his partner and he break into a steady jog.

"What's Harry Potter doing here?" Malfoy breathes, amazed.

"I dunno. Uncle Harry's an auror. He works against dark magic and attacks."

"Dark magic?" Malfoy repeates, ignoring 'attacks'.

"Oh god," I shriek into my hands. "It could be Moaning Myrtle all over again!"

And we both race in the direction uncle Harry ran towards.

When we arrive, the place is a disaster.

Aurors, professors and prefects are sprinting around in circles like Hamsters on a wheel. There's yellow tape around the croner of the hall, which is shrouded in darkness.

"Poor girl", "Attacked" "No one knows why..." plays over in my ears. I leave Malfoy in my dust, and zoom over to the corner. A young mediwitch, clothed in white, is mucking with her kit, looking nervously over to something.

I move closer, slipping under the yellow 'warning' tape. Something inside insists that I should get closer. The mediwitch doesn't stop me. None of the aurors notice me. I hear Malfoy call my name, but it echoes in my ears until it's inaudible. I step forward again, and my knees buckle, and I tumble down beside it.

There's a body, laying face down, in a puddle of crimson. Red curls stick lifelessly to the victim's back. Her hand, though she seems to be unconscious, clutches a book. I can make out the cover. "Chocolate frogs and Summer Love".

Oh no. No, no no.

I move up again, and put my hand on her waist. I look to the mediwitch for approval, and she nods sadly. I carefully pull the body onto its front. I gasp. Her eyes are closed, like she's asleep. Except, her mouth is pulled into a grim 'o', like she can;t stop screaming, even in her dreams. My eyes travel down to her stomach. A gaping hole goes straight through her robes. I touch the hole, and my hand comes away warm and red. I can't tell if her chest is moving up and down, I'm so terrified. I can't tell whether she's alright.

I suddenly feel horrible. If I had insisted Malfoy and I check out the screaming, maybe she wouldn't be in such a bad condition. Maybe.

"Bloody hell," says Malfoy from behind the yellow tape. He's too cowardly to cross it as I did. "Hazel Level?"

"Haze," I flare up resentfully. "She hates being called Hazel."

I can't talk about her in past tense. She can't be dead.

All of a sudden there's yelling. I turn around, and my breath catches in my throat. I forget how to breath. A blonde girl with familiar green eyes is struggling, as two aurors cling onto both of her arms. I tell myself it isn't her. She would never do that, ever. It's not possible. But the girl's next words change that instantly.

"I didn't do it!" She howls. "Why would I hurt my best friend?!"