For mew.
Demelza bit her lip and played with her hair. Not that there was that much hair to begin with. Cutting it was a bit of a regret on her part.
It was boring, because a.) Ginny was at the Yule ball and b.) without Ginny, she didn't have anything pretty to look at. "Damn age rule," she muttered, examining her bloody nails. "If only—"
She looked over to her shoulder and saw a familiar face. No. She can't be…
But Daphne was there. Daphne, goddess of the swing set
of everything
wonderful
fantastic
Daphne
She gasped inadvertently, gripping the sides of the table. Daphne couldn't be in the library with her. She was a fourth year. She was a Slytherin. She had long wavy black hair and huge eyes that sparkled like—like the crystal chandeliers in the Malfoy Manor. She was porcelain skin and crystal eyes and ebony hair
like a fucking fairytale
"Demi?" asked the silky contralto, the one that sang in the meadow behind the Manor, the one that left her in a trance. "Is that you?"
"Y-yeah," stammered Demelza, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. "Um—you look—er—why are you here?"
"Why shouldn't I be?" asked Daphne, sitting across from her, setting down her books. Comics. "I love what you've done with you hair. The purple looks—"
"I've missed you," blurted Demelza, instantly regretting it. "I mean—"
"I know," said Daphne, suddenly quiet. "Do you…do you still listen to Radiohead?"
"Yeah," said Demelza. "Do you want, like, some tapes? Because, if you want any, I could…give you some copies."
Daphne smiled, her purple eye shadow making Demi feel like a pervert. "I…I would like that."
They stared at each other for a moment
just like the old days
and the they glanced away quickly, each blushing a bit.
"Um, I've got to go back to the common room," said Daphne, cheeks very red. "You know. Homework."
"Oh, yeah," said Demelza a tad bit too quickly. "Like, me too. I'll get you the tapes—"
"Thanks," Daphne said, and Demelza wants to scream as she runs out of the library, her face burning.
And so we end…