Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Trying to fix some mistakes.


How to Play a Player

AU: This was one game she wasn't going to lose.

She hadn't meant to take it this far. Honestly, she hadn't meant for any of this to happen. They had a plan. Not a very well thought out one, considering they were drunk while creating it, but it had been a decent one. It was just a little bit of fun, mixed with a dash of revenge. But it had gone wrong. Terribly, horribly, wrong.

And now she couldn't stand the sight of herself. She couldn't recognize the girl in the mirror because that wasn't her. Right? It couldn't be. She wasn't this rude, she wasn't this mean and she sure as hell wasn't this heartless.

No, this girl, this cruel and manipulative girl in the mirror, was a stranger. And thinking back on everything, she doesn't understand how it came to this point.

Whatever this point is.

Because even now, when he should hate her, hate the very existence of her, she knows that if she asked for forgiveness, he would readily give it to her.

And that's all she would have to do. How easy it would be, for everything to be forgotten. Just two little words and the mess she'd made would be clean.

Two simple words.

I'm sorry.

And that is what makes her so heartless. Because even while she feels horrible and terrible and is disgusted in herself, she can't do it. She can't apologize to him, even though he's already done it to her. Even though he's apologized so many times, and meant it, truly meant it, she can't do it.

She doesn't want to.

Because admitting her cruelty, facing up to the past few months, seems almost worse than living with the guilt. Even though she knows it would feel better eventually, she can't get herself to face him. She doesn't even know where to start.

She hasn't seen him in a week. Not since he finally saw her for who-for what- she was. But that's her fault, and not his, like everything else.

Avoiding the great hall, eating in the kitchens with only her shame to keep her company. Skipping classes and talking Professor Slughorn into a week long independent study, sleeping in her old dorm and ignoring the Heads Rooms all together. She's a coward.

But while it's her fault she's been avoiding him, it kills her a little that he hasn't found her and forced a confrontation.

She doesn't understand why he hasn't blasted down her door and demanded, in front of the entire common room, for her to beg for his forgiveness, because if the roles were reversed, she would have.

Then again, if the roles were reversed, she bets he would own up to his mistakes, he wouldn't need to be forced to apologize. He would have already fixed things between them.

Being honest, he never would have let them get so broken.

He'd been an ass for years, teasing her and constantly showing up unwanted and unexpected in her life, but she'd held that over him for just as long, using everything at her disposal to critique him.

Looking back she realizes he'd been right all along. She was a bloody obnoxious heartless girl.

What eats her alive though is how fun it had been.

In the beginning at least, she had enjoyed it.

She enjoyed toying with him, enjoyed teasing him and playing with him. He surprised her constantly; his reactions were always so startling that she found it amusing to guess his responses and didn't mind being surprised when they differed.

And then, even when she knew it was going too far, she still liked it. She liked the feel of his presence, liked the warmth he brought. But she was slipping.

She knew she was slipping.

It's true she had never planned for things to end like that. But it did.

She had tried so hard not to let it spiral out of control, to not let herself spiral out of control. But she couldn't control it, as she found out- she couldn't control a lot of things.

And there is no one to blame but herself. Because yes, she'd been drunk and her mates had urged her to do it, but even if she'd been sober, she'd have agreed. That is how bitter she'd been, how hurt she had felt. But it was no excuse, because it was entirely her fault. And she was alone with the guilt.

How it should be.

She can't even remember how it happened, or why it happened for that matter. She supposes that years of his boyish jokes and annoyingly persistent teases had finally pushed her to the edge.

But if she was honest, and why not be honest when it has been clearly decided how much of a bitch she was, she enjoyed his attention. He was, after all, everything. Charming, popular, handsome, talented… the list went on. But most importantly, he was hers. Even when she didn't want him, even when she thought he was just acting, even when she finally knew he wasn't lying, and even now, he'd always been hers.

She doesn't know if she's his though. A part of her wants to be, but she can't belong to him. Because if the last few months have proved anything, it's that she doesn't deserve him. She probably had never deserved him, she thinks.

So it shouldn't matter if she wants him, or even if he wants her, because she'd never be able to face him again, not after everything she'd put him through.

But it would be so easy. Screw if she deserved it. She could have it. She could have it so easily. But as easy as it would be, it'll never happen. Even though she knows what she feels now, and knows what she wants. She'll never get it.

While two words would get her forgiveness, she knows that five words will be the key to ultimate happiness. That's how easy it would be. Five simple words. Hell, she wouldn't even have to say sorry if she could tell him those five words.

But they were five words that she'd sworn to herself she'd never speak aloud, regardless of how many times she'd think them.

I love you, James Potter.

Because really, some part of her always had.


Thank you for reading,

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