Author's Note: For the prompt of any Slytherin girl (except Pansy), for the livejournal community hh_sugarquill.
Millicent Bulstrode had grown accustomed to being overlooked. She wasn't a pureblood, like Daphne or Pansy. And she wasn't even pretty, like Tracey. She was plain and sturdy, and her family's money paled in comparison with the Malfoys. In short, she was insignificant.
But for all this, Millicent wasn't dissatisfied with her life. There were advantages to being ignored, and she'd learned to use them at every opportunity. Boys were a distraction, and she worked hard to be the best in her class while Pansy drooled over Draco and Daphne went panting after Blaise. She didn't need anyone to fawn over her, and she got a lot more done without someone else underfoot.
At least that's what she believed, until the day she got into an argument with Zacharias Smith.
She lost her temper, yelled, and stamped her foot. But he just argued right back, his voice booming louder with every sentence. She even threw a punch at him, and he just ducked and came up with his wand in his hand.
The discussion ended with him flat on his back, blood pouring from his nose. Still, he glared up at her, with anger and fierce determination. Full of a zillion other emotions nobody ever bothered to direct at her. Standing over him, she felt a twinge of something she'd never felt before. She offered her hand before she'd quite realized what she was doing, and he took a swing at her. Not even close, and she couldn't help but laugh now. This seemed to startle him almost as much as it did her, and he stared at her, eyes wide with confusion. She was still laughing, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, when one corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile.
She held out her hand again, and this time he took it.
