Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or settings mentioned, or anything that looks familiar to you. I'm just a girl who types up stories in her bedroom, and hopes that someday she can maybe become a writer.

Heartbreak, Tears, and Snogging.

I remember last night clearly. Who from the castle wouldn't, after all, I ran into the castle with swollen lips and disheveled hair with Scorpius Malfoy. The boy that my oldest brother hexed constantly, the boy who's father was the enemy of mine during their school years, the boy who had a girlfriend who wasn't me, and the boy I'd been constantly fighting with since my first year.

I had been sitting alone at the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, crying my eyes out, still in my Quidditch robes. It was hours after the game, hours after our victory over Ravenclaw, and hours after I caught my boyfriend, Lorcan Scamander, snogging my cousin Rose. My boyfriend snogging my cousin. Merlin, it still stung.

As dejected and out of it as I felt, I could clearly heard footsteps coming towards me. I had no wand to defend myself from whoever was coming; one of the disadvantages of Quidditch robes. Unable to even raise my head from my self-pity party, I ignored the footsteps. I was in no mood to be bothered, but then again, what fifteen year old, post break-up, just cheated on girl, would be?

I heard his voice before I saw him. And what a deep, husky voice he had. I hadn't noticed that part of him before. Well, I hadn't even noticed him as a person before. He was always the obnoxious, arrogant boy picking on a little redhead who didn't know her way around school, and who was just beginning to figure out who she was. Not who she was in comparison to her famous father and mother or talented brothers and family, but who Lily Luna Potter really was.

"Those tears are ruining your pretty face," was all it took for me to burst into a fresh wave of sobs. But not because I was sad this time, for it was actually quite the opposite. I was trying to laugh through the tears. Because honestly, what kind of guy wouldn't take advantage of a girl when she was hormonal and crying? None that I know of.

There was a long, awkward pause after that remark. It took me a while to think up a witty retort, because of my state-of-being. All I could think about was taking that smirk off of his lips, but when I looked up, he wasn't smirking in the slightest.

"Since when have you thought of my face as pretty?" I retorted, standing up and scowling back at his calm face. It was quite obvious that he never thought of me as pretty, because he told me the opposite everyday. He actually had the indecency to tell me that I looked like a toad, and that really damages a girl's self-esteem.

As I contemplated why there was no sarcasm in his previous comment, he was also silent, looking as if he was debating with himself. But he had gotten himself into this situation. He lied, saying I was pretty, and now he'd just have to deal with the embarrassment of being caught. Or so I thought.

The next thing I knew, he had bounded forward and closed the distance between us, his arms clasping around my waist and forcefully pulling me towards him. I could practically taste his sweet breath as it washed over my face and he whispered out the answer to my rhetorical question; "Always."

And I acted in the spur of the moment, standing on my tip toes, crashing my lips to Scorpius', pulling my body flush up against his, twisting my fingers through his hair. He responded just as eagerly, nearly tearing off my robes and sliding his hands under my shirt, resting them on my stomach, parting my lips with his tongue, fighting for dominance in my mouth. Again, acting in the 'spur of the moment', I couldn't let him have dominance, so the battle moved into his mouth. His hands drifted higher and higher until he came to a stop right below my bra strap, his fingers playing with the clasp in the back unsurely. My hands, on their own accord, slid down to his trousers, slipped in half way, snapping the elastic band there teasingly.

And then I realized it. I was standing on the Quidditch Pitch with Scorpius Malfoy, my hands resting in his trousers, his hands up my shirt, snogging. We were snogging.

I don't know what made me stop. But I did. I broke away from him, panting, grabbed my robes, and sprinted the hell out of there. I couldn't let anyone see us like this, we had been enemies for so long. He, of course, ran after me, and that brings us to everyone seeing us coming into the Great Hall, lips swollen, hair disheveled, and me, crying again. I had just snogged Scorpius Malfoy, and Merlin, I had liked it. And that thought scared me the most.

In the Common Room I got stares. Those were nothing knew, but these stares confused me even more. It was as if they knew something I didn't, as if they were superior to me in every way. Ignoring the questions my brothers hounded me with about my appearance, I ran up to my dormitory, taking the steps two at a time, and collapsed onto my bed. Not even bothering to pull the curtains closed around me, I cried myself to sleep that night. Not crying about my ex-boyfriend, or how he cheated on me just hours before, but crying about Scorpius Malfoy and how I wished that I hadn't stopped that kiss.

So the next day I acted like nothing happened, and I told no one about our moment on the Quidditch Pitch, not even my best friend and cousin Roxanne Weasley. Because if she knew that I had liked it, she'd make me chase after him, and chasing was something that Lily Potter didn't do. She let the boys chase her.

And, after all, it was only in the spur of the moment, nothing real about it. At least that's what I kept telling myself.