Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, and I do not own Harry Potter. I just play with the characters.
AN: This story is complete. 5 chapters. I'll just post it one chapter a day for the next 5 days. Chapters get longer as the story goes on. This is just a tease. Hope you enjoy.
W E are not friends. W E have never been friends. W E will never be friends.
He's a Malfoy. The Heir.
I'm a Weasley. Red hair.
No need to elaborate.
And yet, when Lysander Scamander told everyone in the Great Hall during breakfast yesterday that Rose was the most frigid bitch to ever walk the earth, more so than her prude of a mother, it was Sco-MALFOY who ran out after her and gave her his handkerchief.
SM.
She should give it back. It's all engraved and beautiful and Green on Silver, and she's a Gryffindor. And they're not friends.
She couldn't give it back. Holding on to it in her robe pocket as she walked into the great hall THIS morning and looked Lysander right in the eye and smirked – well, she couldn't have done that without it, don't ask why. Lysander's face ... priceless.
He smiled at me today.
In Charms.
Yes, he did.
I was waiting for him to ask for his handkerchief back and probably ask if I washed it free of Weasley germs, but he didn't.
No, he didn't.
Albus is being annoying, asking why I still carry this thing around. It's been 3 weeks, but what's the big deal. I'll get around to returning it.
"I've been busy"
"For 3 weeks? You see him every day in the Great Hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner. How can you be too busy to walk 10 feet and give it back?"
I also saw him every afternoon in Charms and Transfiguration and Ancient Ruins (yes, I inherited that from my mother) and after dinner in the library, 3 tables away. But Al doesn't need to know that.
"Why do you care if I give it back? When I get around to it, I'll get around to it."
I walked off before he could say any more.
I'll get around to it.