The Hundred Things: Purple

(Theme 016)

Disclaimer: I own fuzzy slippers! But not Harry Potter or anything associated. Fuzzy slippers!

A/N: Urgh. I feel weird about this piece, but it's just a drabble, so what the heck; I'm posting it. It's been at UnknowableRoom for some time. First response to Fanfic100 LJ Challenge. Please review; I would love suggestions on how to make this better, or any drabble-writing.

It was supposed to be purple by now.

"Two more minutes!"

On a good day, and even on not-so-good days, this class usually managed to brighten my spirits. Aside from being one of Slughorn's favorites (there's really no denying it), potion-making usually came naturally to me.

I just couldn't concentrate today. I didn't even want to think about why…

My hand was gripping the stick so tight that my knuckles were turning white. I continued to stir counterclockwise, apparently to no avail. My potion splashed dangerously close to the cauldron edge; I was stirring so fast.

Stupid potion. Why won't you turn lighter?

"It's supposed to be lilac by now, y'know."

I gritted my teeth at the voice. There was no mistaking that voice.

The annoying voice that pestered me to no end. The voice that posed the ever-present offer of supposedly the best Hogsmeade experience I'll ever have. The voice that shouted flattery at me from the other end of the corridor. The v—

"Time's almost up…"

—oice that…

My passionate stirring slowed a bit at what that voice had said today. Or rather, what I had overheard the voice say today.

"So anyways, what's up with you and Evans?"

It was Black, down in the common room, no doubt talking to Potter.

I paused in my step, walking down from the girls' dormitories, suddenly seized with an unusual interest in his answer.

A pause. "Not much, I guess…Why?"

"You haven't been going on and on about her like you usually do."

Loud sighing, probably followed by the running of a hand through hair, though I couldn't see him. "I—I just really don't know. There's not much left for me to do, I guess. I've asked her, nicely, to Hogsmeade this weekend, but of course she said no. I haven't been bugging her at all, I haven't been a prat, I haven't—I just don't know anymore."

"Just go with that Parker girl! She's been bugging you for ages."

"I know. I don't want her though. I only want Lily. You know how it is."

The portrait hole opened, the two boys climbed out, and their voices were cut off as the door shut. I stood still, on the seventh step of the staircase, unable to figure out why his words had affected me so much.

"I only want Lily."

The words echoed in my head now, bouncing around in my brain, as much as I tried to concentrate on the potion.

I involuntarily glanced over at Potter's cauldron. The potion didn't look so lilac-y itself. Hah.

I looked up at his face, and his faraway eyes were on me, and looked as if they had been on me for a while. His hand was stirring absentmindedly.

I caught his gaze; he blinked and gave a lazy half-smile.

…"I only want Lily."

The heat was creeping up from my neck, and I looked away.

…"I only want Lily."

"Stop!" Professor Slughorn called.

I threw my hands up in surrender.

It was supposed to be purple by now, anyway.

Finis

.mische.