a/n:

Look, ZachariasLavender is really fun to write, okay?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

honey && vinegar

You were vinegar—sour, repelling, vile, disgusting.

She was honey—sweet, beautiful, happyhappyhappy.

And you shouldn't go together, but you do. Whispered words and secret notes and covert smiles. Oh, but no, it was a purely platonic relationship, right? Ron was clueless, content to believe whatever uttershit she fed him.

Slowly, she broke through your carefully constructed wall of indifference, your mask of contempt. And she saw the boy who liked to dance in the rain, sing in the shower and secretly played football in his spare time. She was the one who found the Hufflepuff in you.

But, oh, she was dating goddamned Ron Weasley. The boy who was ohso Gryffindor. So fucking brave, the boy who was actually as courageous as Neville Longbottom being encountered by Snape. And you sneered whenever she had to go back to him, and sometimes you wondered if you should've been sorted into Slytherin instead. Because you were so goddamned pessimistic, and secretly, you couldn't stand to see those painted-on (permanent) grins your House all seemed to wear.

You were different. She was not. She was the typical makeup-loving, gossiping girly- girl that you abso-fucking-lutely hated. And yet, you fell for her.

Because under all that materialistic girly fake crap, you saw her. Bright, bubbly, thoughtful (although she didn't seem like it); and she told you secrets; like how she actually admired Hermione Granger, and how (ohmydearfuckingMerlin) she didn't really love Ron. And when she talked to you, you stopped and you listened, and you were always surprised she managed to shut you up, negative comments and all.

And when you talked with her, you found that you couldn't come up with any scathing replies or cutting retorts, because you never wanted to see a frown on that beautiful face of hers. And so, you chattered with her, and hoped with her, and dreamt with her, and you never—notfuckingonce—brought her down. You became honey for her, and you finally felt free of burden, you felt liked and not hated.

And man-oh-man, you weren't supposed to goddamned fall for the girl! And the Slytherin inside you protested, and you were never a Gryffindor, so you couldn't, wouldn't tell her. Looking back at it, you realize you should've done the smart thing, the Ravenclaw thing, and told her. But oh, no, you're just a fucking Hufflepuff, aren't you?

So you kept your mouth shut, but every time you saw her soft brown eyes and that honey (Merlin, there's that word again.) blonde hair, your heart hammered in your chest and you found you couldn't talk.

Then, slowly, you and her began growing apart. And ohMerlin, it was only because you couldn't muster up the courage to tell her! As you grew apart, so did her and thatWeasley (you liked to call him that.) And you were relieved, so relieved, you almost told her.

Until you saw her, head buried in her arms, shaking with silent sobs. You bent down to comfort her, to talk to her, to….tell her? You were always the stingy bee, attracted to the honey. You opened your mouth to tell her, tell her youlovedhoney, tell her you loved her. Then, she looked up.

You saw the brokenness off her face, and fury bubbled up inside of you, making a mental note to murder thatWeasley. But then, as you looked closer, into her eyes, you saw pain and hurt an myMerlin, she cared about RonfuckingWeasley more than you thought! And that fury died down inside you, and suddenly, you felt sick of that sweet-tasting-honey. (It was always too sweet for you anyway.)

So you went back to being vinegar.

(but bloodyhell, you still hated that Ron Weasley for spoiling your honey.)

a.n.

please don't favorite without reviewing.