A/N: Here's a fic about my OC Aimee Myrine and Daphne Greengrass. I know I've used the character before, but this is a whole new story.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns HP.

Daphne Greengrass was beautiful. She had long, smooth blonde hair and soft, creamy skin. She was tall as well, and she had long legs; everything she wore seemed to accentuate her curves so that every boy was drooling over her. Even in her simple school uniform, her skirt hugged her hips, and the hem reached halfway down her thigh, showing off black tights with delicate vine patterns on them. She had high cheekbones and perfectly sculpted eyebrows and soft pink lips and a brilliant smile and dazzling green eyes and—

"Miss Myrine!"

Aimee's elbow slipped off of her desk, and her chin banged sharply against the wood. Startled and rubbing the new mark on her face, she responded quickly to her professor, her face growing warm with shame. "Yes, Professor?"

"Did you hear my question?" Professor Snape snapped. "Or were you too busy daydreaming?"

Aimee flushed, her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. "I...er...I was...I was just..."

"If I wanted to hear you babble on like this, Miss Myrine, then I would have given you a Babbling Beverage. Can you tell me what I just said?"

"I..." Aimee began, but she could not remember. "No. Sir. I...don't."

"I didn't think so," he said curtly. "That's ten points from Ravenclaw for not paying attention in class, Miss Myrine. Now, I asked what a bezoar could do, Mis—"

"It can cure any poison!" she blurted out, trying to make up for her mistake. When Professor Snape gave her a blazing look for her interruption, she flushed again. "Er... it can. Cure poisons. Sir." She was embarrassed about being caught in her daydream and had not yet recovered from it.

"Thank you, Miss Myrine," her professor said, meaning exactly the opposite, "but I was not asking you. That's five points from Ravenclaw. Mister Ramirez?"

Aimee's best friend, Jaime Ramirez, gave her a oh-well sort of look and repeated Aimee's answer. Soon Professor Snape had moved on and continued with the lecture for the day, and Aimee tried to take notes as best she could. However, she was still caught off guard and humiliated that her teacher had caught her when she was daydreaming. What would he think, now that his most attentive student was barely focusing, daydreaming about—

"You alright there, Aimee?" Jaime asked.

Potions class was over now and Aimee was still caught up in what had happened. "Er...yeah," she said quickly. "We've got lunch next, right?"

He nodded. "Can we head up to the tower first? I've got to grab our poster for Ancient Runes. Wanna work on it during lunch?"

"Sure," she said.

As they climbed the spiral staircase to Ravenclaw Tower, Jaime grabbed her arm. "What were you doing in Potions?" he asked. "You never nod off in class like that."

"I wasn't sleeping," she said defensively. "I was just—"

"Just what? Thinking about a certain someone?"

Angered by the emphasis on the word 'someone,' Aimee snapped, "Shut up. I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Ames," he said, smirking a little. "Who is he? Do I know—"

"I said shut up! You don't know anything about it!" They had stopped going up the stairs now, stuck on the third step from the top.

Jaime, startled by her sudden anger, stared at her in shock. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine," he said coldly. "You don't have to tell me. I'm only your best friend, after all."

Aimee hated it when he did this. "Jaime..." she protested. "Come on, Jaime, it was just—" But she did not stop him, and she let him approach the bronze eagle knocker on his own. However, Jaime had always been rubbish at riddles, so when he spent a good two minutes giving answers like 'the universe' and 'time', she stepped forward, giving her best friend a knowing look. "Eternity," she said, and the door swung open.

Jaime glared at her, but Aimee knew he had always been terrible at holding grudges. By the time they got to lunch, he was mostly back to his normal self. Aimee held his poster still as he added finishing touches with a nice, shiny ink. "You start that essay for History of Magic?" she asked.

Jaime snorted. "We were assigned it this morning, Ames. How could I have—" He stopped. "Wait... did you...?"

Aimee gave him a sheepish look. "Just the introduction paragraph," she admitted. "I just finished the classwork early in Transfiguration and had a little extra time on my hands..."

"The introduction paragraph? Are you serious?"

She shrugged, trying to hide her grin behind her lips. "And the first body paragraph," she confessed.

"Aimee!" Jaime cried, shoving her playfully. "You're making the rest of us look bad, honestly."

"I'm just managing my time well, Jaime. Don't you want to play Exploding Snaps tonight instead of doing homework?"

Instead of answering her, he only groaned. "What are you doing now, then?" he muttered, gesturing to her hand, now scribbling on parchment. She paused for a moment to dip her quill in ink and to say, "Potions homework."

Jaime's head hit the desk, and he mumbled, "Honestly…"

Daphne Greengrass had freckles scattered over her face like a dusting of powdered sugar; Aimee had never gotten close enough to count them. Daphne's face grew closer, and her hair smelled like vanilla. Daphne smiled at her gently, the dimple in her left cheek showing. Aimee opened her mouth to speak—

"Ames!" Jaime was looking at her with an odd expression. "I've only asked you three times! Am I doing this right?"

Aimee blinked, painting over the picture in her mind. "I…" Her best friend was performing a spell for her. "What spell again?"

His wand arm dropped. "Are you paying attention at all?"

"Sorry, sorry…"

"It's fine, just—" Instead of continuing his spell, he sat down beside her. "Is everything okay? You've been acting kinda weird all day."

Her friend wasn't wrong; Daphne Greengrass had broken up with her boyfriend the night before, so Aimee had been daydreaming all day. "Yes, yes, of course! Everything's fine. Everything's great." Overboard, Einstein. "What spell did you want me to check, Jaime?"

He shook his head. "Forget the spell. I want to know what's going on with you." He looked expectantly at her.

Her face grew hot. "Nothing."

"Seriously, Ames. Are you in trouble? Is someone—"

"No! Of course not. You know I'd tell you if something was wrong."

His face fell the tiniest bit. "I thought that before, but now I'm not so sure."

Aimee felt her guilt slice open her throat like a steel dagger; she clenched her fingers into fists. "Jaime…" Again, she faltered. There was no possible way for her to explain this to him. Aimee herself could barely think about it without mentally slapping herself. How could she tell her best friend if she couldn't even admit it to herself? Every inch of her skin awoke, startled by her inability to speak. Talking to Jaime had always seemed so easy, but now…

"Aimee." He took her hand. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She knew. But she couldn't.

It happened in the Three Broomsticks a couple weeks later. She and Jaime were sitting at a corner booth, sipping on butterbeer and talking. Sometime around twelve o'clock, Aimee recognized a tall, blonde girl walking toward them. Her heart fluttered inside of her chest; it was Daphne Greengrass. She wore low-cut, Slytherin green sweater and dark, bootcut jeans. She wore her hair in a messy French braid, secured at the end by a silver clip.

Jaime shifted beside her. "Who's that?"

Her heartbeat sped up. "She—er, Daphne. Greengrass. Slytherin?"

Daphne was closer, and closer, and closer, and suddenly Aimee could spot that tiny scar on her left cheek— "Can I sit with you?" she asked.

Aimee nodded mutely.

Jaime, thankfully, took over for her. "Of course."

Daphne Greengrass grinned. Aimee blushed. Daphne looked perfect from afar, but now that Aimee could see all the tiny imperfections that made her even more beautiful. "Thanks!" She slid into the booth beside Aimee, tossing her knapsack beside her. "I'm sorry… I know you probably don't know me. I'm Daphne...Greengrass." She looked at Aimee and smiled. "You're in my Muggle Studies class, right? And…"

"Charms," Aimee finished. "And Potions."

She smiled again. "Right." She stared down at her hands for a moment. "Look, sorry to intrude on you, I just…" She glanced over at the door. "You're the only person I know here other than my friends, and I… I don't want to sit with them right now. Are you sure it's okay?"

Aimee nodded again, her head bobbing up and down as if under the Imperius curse. "Yeah—Yes. Yes."

They didn't ask her why she didn't want to sit with her friends, but Aimee soon discovered that Daphne Greengrass was as kind as she was beautiful. Unlike some of the other Slytherins she knew, Daphne was sweet and funny. They bonded over a shared hate for Potions and a love for Defense Against the Dark Arts, talking about books and Celestina Warbeck and even their families. Aimee was one of four children, but the only one born magical in her family. Daphne had a younger sister named Astoria, a third year, as well as a younger brother named Tomas, a first year.

When they got back from Hogsmeade, Aimee felt warm all over. Collapsing into one of their common room's plush couches, she sighed. Today… Talking to Daphne was like playing a song she already knew.

After twelve, she went downstairs to meet with Jaime in the common room, swaddled in her Muggle sweatshirt and pajama pants decorated in Cornish pixies. Most of the other students had already gone to bed, but she and Jaime sat by the fireplace instead.

"What's up?" she asked. He had been the one to initiate their meeting, after all.

He turned to face her, and to her surprise, he was smiling widely. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you...what?"

"Why you've been acting strange all week."

Aimee's stomach dropped. "Why I..."

He lowered his voice. "Daphne," he said simply. "You like her."

Her neck felt hot. "Wh-what?"

He didn't seem to notice her discomfort, so he continued. "I saw the way you looked at her this afternoon. You never even looked over at me. You couldn't take your eyes off of her."

"No—"

"It all makes sense now! Daydreaming in class, stammering when she sat with us, everything! I mean, at first I thought you were just nervous for our Potions exam, but now I know—"

"What?" Aimee, humiliated, interrupted him. "You think that I'm…that I… No!"

His smile seemed to melt from his face. "You…"

She stood up. She could barely look at him. "How could you think that about me?" She tried to laugh it off, but the only emotion that burst from her was anger. "You think you can…" She couldn't form sentences, she couldn't form words, she— "Y-you don't have that right! You don't—" She pressed her hand against her forehead and then her mouth. She had to be careful. If some other Ravenclaw heard them… "God…" She thought she might throw up. Or cry. Or both.

Jaime was standing now, too, and he put his hand on her shoulder. "Ames, I didn't mean to upset you; I just—"

She jerked away. "No!" Realizing she was too loud, she dropped her voice to a frustrated whisper. "No! You think—you think you can just accuse me, say that I'm—" Merlin's balls. "That I—" She couldn't finish her sentence. "I—"

Jaime watched her, concerned and confused, as her vision blurred with tears. She was vibrating with emotion, trying to hold it in by pressing her nails into her scalp. Somewhere in the back of her head, she realized that Jaime had never seen her cry.

She took one look at his pitying expression and ran out of the common room.

She made it halfway to the girls' bathroom on the second floor before tripping over something on the ground and sprawling on the carpeted floor between the sleeping portraits. The newfound pain in her knee induced her first round of tears, and she found herself sobbing quietly between the paintings, curling her knees to her chest in the darkness.

She spent the night with Madame Pomfrey, complaining of cramps, but the stern woman took one look at Aimee's red-rimmed eyes and refused to give her any pain-relieving potion. However, she did offer a Dreamless Sleep Potion that Aimee gladly accepted. Pomfrey allowed her to stay until midday before telling her that she had to go to class.

She went through the rest of the day without speaking to Jaime; she skipped dinner so she could be alone. She went to the library instead, trying to drown out the chaos in her head with magical history.

Someone tapped her shoulder, so she turned. Daphne Greengrass. "Can I sit with you?"

Aimee smiled weakly. "Sure."

The blonde girl slipped in beside her, pulling a book from her bag. And instead of asking her why she wasn't in Charms that morning or why her curly hair was a complete mess, she sat with her in silence, reading. And when she got up at the end of dinner, she touched Aimee's shoulder and said, "Have a nice night."

Aimee didn't want to face Jaime again, so she went straight to her dormitory and to her bed. The other girls left her alone, mostly, which she was grateful for. She laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what Jaime had said.

It just wasn't possible. Sure, she thought about girls sometimes, but not in… Not in that way. She just thought some girls were beautiful, that's all. She'd had crushes on boys before, for Merlin's sake! So she couldn't possibly be… She squeezed her eyes shut. Memories bubbled onto the surface of her mind, threatening to spill over, but she shoved them down. How could he think that about her? She'd loved that boy wizard band when she was a first year, just the same as all of the other girls. She was the same as all of the other girls. She had to be.

That night, her mind played her a chorus of memories instead of her usual magic-infused dreams. In the first, she was young, around eight or nine, and she was standing in the line for the cashier with her mother, hanging on the end of the cart. Her eyes wandered to a magazine at her eye level; it depicted a lithe, gorgeous woman with smoky eyes and dark red lips, her skin airbrushed to perfection, wearing little more than a bathing suit. An odd, hot feeling rose within her, and she stared at the magazine, entranced by the woman.

Suddenly, she was twelve, and she was at a baseball game with her father. He handed her a pair of sunglasses and a tube of sunblock. "You don't want to burn, do you?" He smiled. She rubbed the ointment into her skin and slipped on the sunglasses. It took her a while, but soon she recognized that no one could see her eyes with the sunglasses on. Freed, she glanced at the people around her. Men. Women. Children. A teenage girl brushed past her, and she watched her intently, freely, as she passed her and ran to catch up with her friends, wearing jeans shorts and a crop top. She watched her as she went, knowing that no one in her family… No one around her could see her eyes, so they didn't know that when she let herself go in those couple moments, allowing herself to see a girl, she'd never felt more free.

Then, she was thirteen, and her whole family was staying at a beach house with some family friends. She couldn't remember the daughter's name, but she was Aimee's age, with sparkling green eyes and soft skin. Aimee, her little sister, and the girl, all slept in the same room together. "Come on, sweetheart," her mum said, reminding her to stay quiet. Aimee blinked at her. "It's time to go. Say goodbye to your friends." After shaking her shoulder to wake her and whispering a quiet goodbye, Aimee hugged the girl, knowing they most likely wouldn't see each other again until the end of the summer. Both of them were bleary with sleep, their eyes half-closed, and Aimee received a warm embrace in return. As she had just woken up as well, she was barely in control of herself, and without thinking, she pressed her lips against the other girl's cheek, kissing the spot just beside her mouth. It was only after she had done it that Aimee realized what she had done, and icy fear raced through her. What if her friend thought—

Aimee woke up sweaty with her curls plastered against her neck, and she stumbled out of bed, not bothering to find her slippers. She felt odd, as though someone had taken a corkscrew and twisted it right between her ribs, poisoning her. Panicked, she glanced out the window, afraid that someone could see right into her heart and into her disgusting brew of feelings. It was still dark out.

She ran into the bathroom and locked the door, barely able to breathe. She'd never thought about it before. She'd never wanted to think about it before. It was always just a part of her, like a little parasite in the back of her brain, forever sucking at her normalcy. Now, she was terrified. What if someone found out? She lived in an all-girls dorm… What would her roommates do? Oh, God—She ran to the toilet, shoved the lid up, and threw up violently, clutching each porcelain side. How would she ever get through this?

She stopped crying at the sound of knocking on the bathroom door. "Aimee?" called a quiet voice. "Are you okay?' Aimee pressed a weak hand against her mouth, wiping away saliva and vomit. Her shoulders shook. If she spoke, surely Padma would know that she was upset. "Aimee?" She stood up and turned on the faucet, washing her face. When she finally left the bathroom, Padma was standing outside, concerned. "Are you…"

"Fine," she said, and she climbed into bed.

The next day, she skipped breakfast again so that she wouldn't have to face Jaime or Padma. Instead, she went to the library, finding an empty table and pulling out her textbook. She tried to lose herself in the easy rhythm of Muggle Studies, but it seemed an impossible task with all of the rediscovered thoughts clouding her brain.

Someone slid into the chair across from her. Blonde. Slytherin. Daphne. "Hey," the beautiful girl said. "Not up for breakfast today either, yeah?"

Aimee shrugged.

"Not up for talking today, then?" She smiled, and Aimee's cheeks warmed. "I understand."

So they sat in silence again, reading quietly.

After about a week, Jaime caught her in the hall while she walked to the Ravenclaw common room after Charms class. "Aimee," he said, running to catch up to her. "Aimee, please. Wait!"

She stopped, turning around. She spotted her best friend; it was obvious that he had been running for a little longer than he was used to, for he was panting and red-faced. She didn't say anything, waiting for him to talk instead.

After catching his breath, he spoke. "Ames, I'm sorry about what I said." Almost paranoid, she glanced around them. Anyone could be listening. "I didn't mean to...assume anything. I just… I thought…" He sighed. "I'm sorry. And I miss you. And I just want to be friends again. I never meant to hurt you or anything with what I said." He smiled sheepishly. "I got you a gift, if that makes it any better." He held out a shiny parcel to her. "It's, er…"

She took it from him, shrugging off her knapsack so she could open it. Inside the box was a set of brand-new notebooks. Unable to help it, she beamed. Jaime relaxed upon seeing her grin. "Thank you," she said, barely able to contain herself. He knew she loved notebooks, and always knew how to make her smile. He was her best friend, after all. "And… I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to ignore you. I…" Those stupid thoughts began pressing at the back of her skull again. "I'm sorry. And I accept your bribe, you nutter."

Now, Jaime was beaming as well. He wrapped her in a bear hug. "Fantastic! Now, who's up for a trip to the kitchens?"

They stole downstairs behind the secret portrait to meet the house-elves there. Elated by their visit, the elves gifted them with pastries and sweets, and in return, Aimee and Jaime played duet after duet on the piano. Together, they had moved the piano to the kitchens in their third year after discovering the incredibly strong silencing spell cast over the room. They played into their fingers were sore and their wrists cramped, and they ate until powdered sugar coated their laps. Overwhelmed with joy, she sat by the fire with Jaime, licking the jelly from her fingers. She couldn't have been more happy.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Challenges used:

Original Character Boot Camp - #30 (delicate), Aimee Myrine

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #228 (Romance)

If You Dare Challenge - #539 (Heart's truth)

365 Prompts - #263 (gay)

Writing Club - Disney Challenge - Songs - #2 (Shiny) - Write about someone pretending to be something they're not.

Writing Club - Lizzy's Loft - #7 (Nadine Brandes) - Write about a Ravenclaw.

Writing Club -Amber's Attic - #6 (Dirty Dancing) Write about falling in love with someone you shouldn't.

Writing Club - Count Your Buttons - Characters - #2 (Daphne Greengrass)

Writing Club - Ami's Audio Admirations - #13 (The Suffering Game) - (genre) hurt/comfort

Writing Club - Emy's Emporium - Bonus: Nostalgia - Write a story using flashbacks.

Writing Club - Bex's Basement - #13 (Captain America: Civil War) - Write about someone finding a long buried truth.

Fantastic Beasts - #38 Incubus/Succubus (dream), #22 Bosnia and Herzegovina (genre - romance)

Autumn - False Confession Day - Write about someone lying.

Library - #12 - Goshawk's Guide to Herbology by Miranda Goshawk - Start an MC using an OC.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Performing Arts: Halloween Monologues - Task #3 - (genre) hurt/comfort

The Golden Snitch - Through The Universe - #112 (color - cream) - Molecular Cloud

The Golden Snitch - Ollivander's Wand Shop - Neville Longbottom - 13 inch - Write about a Ravenclaw character.

Fanfiction Writing Month: November []