~*~

She was incredibly mad at him. Rightfully so, of course. At least in her mind. He had said something. . . . . mean. Very mean. They were just eleven then, just children, really. The two had those rouge coloured cheeks and childish warmth about them. Just first years and already causing havoc. It started that chilly, very early October day-

That day that he said her hair was ratty and tangled. And very ugly. She didn't like that an awful lot. It was said that she didn't respond well to criticism.

Her light mocha coloured eyes flickered towards him and they turned darkly into slits. Her eyebrows raised and she assumed the air of a warrior.

He was a silly little boy and he simply laughed at this display of "lioness." She leaned against the marble wall with her short, little arms crossed.

"Oh come off it already," he teased.

Stomping a black mary jane upon the floor she gave him a glare worthy of his.

"Come off what?" she demanded.

"Oh never mind. You're quite slow for someone who's supposedly brilliant though, aren't you?" He scoffed and skimmed through a Potions book nonchalantly.

"Boys," she muttered darkly under her breath.

She stuck her pointy, elfish nose up in the air and flipped her bushy, hot cocoa coloured hair over her shoulder.

"I bet you think your something special," he told her coldly as he looked up from the book.

"I bet you I am."

He looked at her, in that silly little "warrior" pose and he had to figure that maybe, just maybe, this would turn into a friendship.

After all, she did look pretty special just then. Maybe.

~*~

La Fin.