I was sitting there at the Ravenclaw table, a lazy Saturday breakfast, talking to him, laughing, making faces, friendly touches, what anyone else would call flirting. Mariana Scamander looks back and forth between us, eyes full of keen interest. "Wow, you guys are so meant for each other," she says. We look at each other, and he bursts out laughing. I laugh along, the laughter never reaching my eyes. That night, I cry myself to sleep.

I decide to date other guys. Date is a strong word, snog other guys is the more appropriate term. Why? Well, to forget him, of course. How I came up with this brilliant plan you ask?

We'd been in the common room, talking, when he mentions the latest girl to catch his eye. Victoria James. How I hate that bitch. It's not like we hadn't talked about significant others with each other before, hell we'd been best friends for years, naturally it came up. He helped me through my breakup with Charlie Duncan, shoveling ice cream in the kitchens with me until the wee hours of the morning. I'd been the first person he told when he found Liliana Parker snogging another bloke in a broom closet as he'd been running away from Filch, who must be a hundred by now but just won't die and take his infernal cat with him. Bastard. But in that moment, as he raved about Victoria's dark hair, so unlike mine, I realized that he would never like me like that. I'll always be one of the guys to him.

Now what is any reasonable witch supposed to do when she realizes that the love of her life just doesn't get it? Cry and resign herself to becoming an old spinster with too many kneazels like that old neighbor Uncle Harry had mentioned from the childhood he'd rather forget? By all that is holy and the crumple-horned snorkack, no! Find someone else to fall in love with? Bingo. There was just one problem with that. Being in love with Scorpius for so long had completely made me forget to seek out another compatible other. Which brings us to the present trend of snogging way too many blokes. Honestly, at this point I didn't care if all of Hogwarts thought I was a whore. It was a tactic, I needed to forget him.

He didn't notice. If he did, he didn't mention it. He was too wrapped up in her, and our last month of sixth year passed without much talking. It was better that way. If this mission was going to work, talking to him constantly was not going to help. Summer brought a change. My cousin Lily and I traveled to Paris. City of lights, city of love, city of the heartbroken. But it was there that my faith was restored. They were flings, and no I never developed feelings for any of the guys there. But I thought I could, I thought that if I were there longer, these were guys I could actually fall in love with. I opened my heart again.

And so it was, full of confidence, that I boarded the train to take me to seventh year.

One month later, and I have failed. I'm sitting here, in my dormitory, eating sorbet. Hey, if I have to cry over a guy, I'm not going to let it ruin my figure. And listening to depressing Muggle music. There's this one singer who rather reminds me rather painfully of the veela-lookalike he's dating now, blond hair cascading down her back, but somehow her song 'You Belong With Me' is oddly fitting. I'm out of ideas. I've tried everything.

And when he tells me about his new girlfriend, when I see them walking hand in hand down the corridor, the smile still doesn't reach my eyes.