A/N: This is a response to my 1, 2, 3 Challenge at the HPFC. I also challenged myself to write this piece in second person after inspired by the writings of EHWIES. Short, but exactly what I had in mind when I received the challenge, which will be posted below. Enjoy!

For years, you had shared the same classes, discussed the same teenage drama, endured the same grueling assignments, witnessed the same students leave and enter the school, talked among some of the same groups of people, probably even crushed on some of the same guys. Rivals in Quidditch for four years, you had watched each other fly with a critical eye.

You could recall times when the Other Girl had helped you learn an incantation or suggested a helpful book for a Potions assignment. Once, in your first year, you could remember the two of you sitting at the same table in the library. Peculiarly enough, you ended up talking with each other more than studying. No repeat of the event occurred, but whenever you saw each other in the hallways, you shared a smile that reminded you of how nice the Other Girl from another house was.

As the years passed, everyone in your class grew to know who the Other Girl was, because she was so smart, and so pretty. Most of them knew you, too, but that was only because of Quidditch. If you would ever get a compliment from someone outside of your house, more likely than not, it was concerning your performance on the latest game. But you didn't resent it, not most of the time. Whenever those feelings would appear inside, you would think about how Quidditch had brought you to you friends, even if they hung out with the other students who were actually their age more often than with you. And trying out for Quidditch had indirectly provided you the opportunity to create the friendship you had with all the other girls your age in your house, including your best friend.

But the Other Girl got Quidditch and good marks and pretty looks on top of friends.

When the Other Girl had been the one to attend the Yule Ball with one of the Champions last year, almost every girl in the castle envied her, including you. All of the older girls (your year and above, that is) had been admiring him for a while by then, and many were disappointed when he had chosen the Other Girl. But when June rolled around, no one envied her. Pitied, mourned alongside, empathized, but never envied. Not then.

This year, you both found something within that sparked your joining of the DA. Together, with others like you, you learned from Harry and grew in character, practiced spells and taught each other the importance of teamwork, laughed at the Weasley Twins and groaned at Umbridge's antics.

But the Other Girl was doing something else, too. After such an emotionally crushing summer, you couldn't understand how the Other Girl could possibly pursue a relationship with another boy, much less the one who witnessed her ex-boyfriend's murder.

At meal times, you would gaze around the Great Hall, merely noting the behaviors of your fellow students. Since the beginning of your sixth year, the Other Girl seemed to have developed the habit of looking over at your table, more specifically, at Harry. Of course, Harry being a teenage boy, you doubted he even noticed. But later, after Harry had started training the DA, the Other Girl continued to send him these glances, saying things in these tones, flashing these smiles. You were not blind, nor were you stupid. You knew what the Other Girl was doing.

But knowing isn't understanding, and quite frankly, you did not understand why the Other Girl was elongating her suffering in such a manner.

Normally, you would have remained a spectator, not wanting to push yourself into other people's business that did not concern you. But this time was different. This time it was Harry, your housemate, your teammate, the boy who also still fought the flood of emotions created last June. He didn't deserve to be dragged into such a mess.

Still, you didn't want to have to tell the Other Girl how foolish she was acting; you hoped that she was smart enough to realize that on her own.

For a few days, a debate ran through your head, brain begging to drop the topic, heart demanding to confront the Other Girl. Your eyes followed her in class, your friends asked if something was wrong, your time was spent worrying whether approaching her would be the best path to take.

You never did make a decision.

But one day, when you were headed back up to the castle after a refreshing jog in the autumn evening air, you saw her sitting in the branches of a tree, perfectly still.

She was alone.

And she was crying. You could hear the sobs that she refused to let rack her body.

You didn't want to disturb her, but your heart couldn't refuse the opportunity. Breaking into a light jog, you didn't mean to frighten her. However, she obviously wasn't expecting anyone to be around.

When you called her name, the Other Girl nearly fell out of the tree, catching herself just in time. Thank Merlin for the reflex building interactions with bludgers all these years.

"You all right?" you asked as you reached the tree, raising an arm.

"Yeah," she replied, finding her balance on the branch once more. "You just scared me." She noticed your offer and accepted the assistance, placing her hand on yours.

"Sorry about that," you said as she jumps to the ground.

"It's okay," she lied. You knew she was lying because she kept her back towards you for a moment to attempt to wipe the incriminating evidence of tears from her face. When she did turn around, she wore a fake smile that didn't match her eyes. Definitely not okay.

An awkward silence settled between the two of you, the Other Girl waiting for what you had to say and you not knowing how to say it.

"I just want to tell you," you heard a voice announce, "that maybe you should slow down."

When she gave you a questioning look, you decided to word it differently.

"Sometimes it's best to let wounds heal for a bit before jumping back into the game," you advised gently. Her eyes fell to her hands, and you knew she understood.

"He's probably having a hard time, too," you reminded her. "Just… be careful with hearts."

Casting her eyes upward for a single moment to meet your gaze, when she dropped them back to her hands, you continued on your way back to the castle, leaving her to her sanctuary of solitude once more.

You hoped that your words had been enough, that they had impacted her, made her think.

But when you heard the gossip floating around the Gryffindor common room late in the night after Valentine's Day, you knew she didn't listen.


A/N: And my challenge was "Katie Bell frightens Cho Chang." Any thoughts?