Somewhere in the entrance hall, a hot day in May, a silver blonde girl shouts a name over the crowd that is trying to get to dinner.
"Malfoy!" Her eyes are glittering, but not filled with laugh as they usually would be. The glint in them is alike the one a lion would have in its eyes, while watching its prey.
"Weasley…" He is tilting his head to the left, as if trying to figure her next move out.
The expression on her face fades out and replaces with a look of sheer confusion. "Since when are you calling me Weasley?"
"Since when are you calling me Malfoy?" he retorts with a smirk.
Somewhere, still in the entrance hall, the retired gamekeeper and professor is passing by, hearing a conversation and smiles. He is remembering a day, more than 25 years ago, when he and a black-haired boy were using almost the very same words to each other. Though, instead of "Weasley" and "Malfoy", the names were "Potter" and "sir".
The confusion in her eyes is gone again and the intimidating glinting is back. "Since you ditched my cousin."
"So what?" he asks, and the normally grey eyes go black.
"For your information; you shouted it out in front of the whole school."
"What should I've done then?" His eyes are wide and fully open, and he says it with an innocent voice, but she can still hear the mocking in his voice.
"Well…" she starts but gets interrupted.
"At least I didn't send her an owl, as your precious big scary brother Louis did to his last girlfriend." If the venom in his voice was in a cup it would certainly be dripping over. "I told her personally."
She shakes her head. He should have known by now that insulting her brother is useless, she is considering him as a lost case. "But you couldn't have done it smoother, could you?"
He is ignoring her rhetorical question and suddenly outbursts: "Why do you care by the way?"
"She is, in fact, my cousin and…" Once more she is interrupted.
"Well go comfort her then!" He snaps at her, anger both in voice and eyes.
"…and you're my friend", she continues, trying to be obvious to his last comment. "Now, tell me, I didn't think you would be so rude." She glares at him which makes him shift his feet and look down, as in surrender.
"How should I've done it then?" he asks.
"You…" she starts, but doesn't seem to find the right words.
The silence that appears is awkward and he feels that he has to say something. "Nice and clean cut is better, if you ask me" he says with a smile.
"I didn't ask you", she answers without a smile.
"Ask anyone then!" he says, folding his arms. "Nearly Head-less Nick for an example."
"What do you mean?" Confusion is written over her face.
"Well, if he would have had a nice and clean cut, he would have been a thousand times happier." This is said slowly, as if explaining to a child. But when he sees her doubting look he continues and nods in a convincing way. "I swear he would!"
"I don't get your metaphors", is all she says.
"They can't be so hard to get." If he wasn't a Malfoy, he would have whined.
"Yes, they can", she says, as stubborn as ever.
"Oh, you daft thing." He can't believe her not getting his metaphors.
"Did you just call me daft?" she asks, surprised, yes, but even more upset. "One, you sound like you're from something like 19th century and two, it is because I'm blonde, right?"
He looks at her, not knowing where to start. "…Actually, the word's from before 10th century, and…" He stops himself, curling one of his locks around a finger, waiting for an answer but doesn't get one. "I'm blonde too, so that was a quite stupid question."
"No it wasn't", she says quickly and then continues, trying to change the subject. "Well, yes, you are blonde, but still, no one gets your metaphors. But hey", her voice is pleading and her lashes are batting, but just a bit. "Can't you just tell why?"
She is sounding surprisingly concerning and he hesitates a bit. "Why what?" Playing innocent is always working.
"Why you ditched Rosie?" Or maybe not always.
Somewhere in the Great Hall, a red haired girl frowns and begins to notice the lack of two certain people at dinner table.
"No, I can't tell."
In the beginning of their conversation, a furious lioness was in front him. Now, her eyes are big and hurt as a puppy's. "Why?"
He looks down; those eyes would otherwise make him want to hug her. As usual. "Because, it's personal."
"So personal you can't even tell your girlfriend?" The pleading is nowhere to be find in her voice anymore.
"What do you mean?" He looks up, alarmed.
""You didn't give Rosie a reason at all, for Merlin's sake." She is sounding as she has had enough of this conversation.
"Does she have to have one?" he asks slowly.
"Don't you know your girlfriend at all?" She can't believe what she's hearing.
"Ex-girlfriend, it is. And yes, I know her." The expression at his face is hard.
"No you don't. You would've known she has to have a reason, so she can analyze it. We're talking about Rosie, you know." The disappointment on him can't be mistaken on.
He is quiet for a while before starting to speak. "But if…" Then, he is quiet once more.
"What?" she asks irritated.
"It didn't feel right anymore. That's the only reason", he says wide-eyed.
"There has to be more, you two were meant for each other." Oddly enough, she doesn't show the normal happiness and awe for the cutest Hogwarts-couple these days. She knows she should. But she can't act anymore.
"We weren't!"
"You were", she says determined.
"How do you know?"
"You could see. You just fit together, like Romeo and Juliet." She gives him a sad smile.
"How do you mean?"
"Yeah, you know, family loathing each other and stuff."
"They don't loath each other!" He is sounding as if he's bound to defend them.
"Well they did, but anyway, that's not really the point. You are like Romeo and Juliet or any other perfect couple."
"We're not." He says this, looking anywhere but on her.
"Are too," she says with twinkling eyes.
"Are not… Merlin's beard, stop it!" He blushes as a seventh year student passes and throws them an odd look.
"I won!" She sounds exactly as happy as she would when they were eleven and could go on with "Are not!", "Are too!" for hours. "And you were perfect for each other, I swear", she continues seriously. Somewhere inside her she is hoping that she is wrong.
He sighs. "What if…"
"What?" she asks eagerly.
"What if it were too perfect?"
"What do you mean?" She is narrowing her eyes a bit.
"I don't know it really." He shakes his head.
"You can tell me." This makes him close his eyes, as in pain, and then, when he opens them, the normal shimmering is gone.
"I just... No. Go tell Rose I'm sorry for being rude, abrupt or whatever I was. But that we can't continue living in a made-up world where we were 'meant for each other'."
"Okay…" she says quietly and avoids eye contact with him.
"What?" he asks concerned.
"You… I don't know. It feels like you aren't telling me everything." She bites her lower lip.
He is suddenly angry. "What makes you always think that I should tell you everything?" He shouts at her, something finally bursting inside of him. Probably his patience. He doesn't want to argue with her really. But when everything is this screwed up, he doesn't know what he should do.
"Oh I don't know, maybe that we've been friends for years!" This is also shouted, but ironic and whilst backing off. "'Cause I guess we aren't anymore!" That wasn't supposed to be her final words to him, but she has had something bursting inside of her, as well. Maybe her heart.
He runs after her – it wasn't supposed to end like this. "Dom! Sorry, I didn't mean that." She feels his hand on her shoulder, but slips away.
"You didn't? You sure sounded convincing." Even though her head is held high and her voice is steady, the hurt can be seen in her eyes. "But I guess I'm too daft and stupid to see such things."
"Dom, really. I am sorry." He leans against the wall in the abandoned corridor which she ran into. "It is just hard to explain." He puts his head in his hands after sitting down.
"Explain what? You're driving me crazy, Scorp, as you always do." She joins him on the floor.
"What?" His voice is muffled as he still has his head in his arms and refuses to come up.
"Oh, Merlin. Don't you see it? We've been friends for, what? Six years and you never tell me anything. 'It's hard to explain, you wouldn't understand, it's personal…' And on top of it…" She hesitates, but decides to let go. "…watching you and Rosie getting your happi-"
Suddenly, he turns his head and watches her, also deciding to jump of that cliff that was safe and normal, but, oh, so unexciting. "Dom, don't you see why?" He is definitely falling from the cliff now, fast. "I didn't want that happily ever after. But everyone made me think that I wanted it by telling me how cute we were and so on, so I started believing it. Then I faced the truth, and saw you. I do want to get a happily ever after, but with you."
"Oh", she says surprised. And when he leans forward to kiss her, the happiness inside her is flowing over and the ground he is hitting isn't hard at all.
When the best moment of her life has come to an end, she smiles at him. "Come", she begs, taking his hand. "Let me show you my favorite place."
Somewhere under a certain beech tree by the lake a blonde boy kisses her for the second time in his life.
A/N: Thanks to Linchalou for reading it trough!
Please review, my first story and I would appreciate it a lot if you told me your thoughts on it.
