AN: This is the seventh entry for the Hunger Games Competition over on HPFC. The prompts for this round was actually pretty dark and intense, but since I really kinda suck at writing dark and intense stuff, here's a nice little angsty and fluffy ons-shot for you. Hope you enjoy!

I used the prompts: arouse, lonely, "No, it's okay; I'm used to it,", Mary MacDonald, Astronomy.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Mary knew better than this. She really did. Or rather, she ought to know better than this. Hadn't she spent her whole life being disappointed by men?

First it was her father, who had left her and her mother when she was very little, and then it was the procession of boys through the years who made efforts to get to know her, only for her to find out later that they were after her prettier friends. To find that out that all that time when they had been making jokes with her and talking to her, they had been making eyes at the prettier girls standing just behind Mary.

So, there was no excuse really. Mary should have expected this.

It was just, Collin had seemed so sincere. He had been kind, smart and he had even taken her out on a few dates, something that none of the others had done before. And, well, though Mary had been cautious, she was lonely. All her friends had boyfriends, and that left them precious little time for poor old Mary MacDonald.

And, if she was being honest with herself, he had aroused her curiosity. Why would Collin Mackenzie, who had floated along with the current, almost entirely unnoticed, (at least by Mary, who remembered only fleeting glimpses of him before that year), all through their Hogwarts career, decide, suddenly, that he wanted to talk to her. It had made her suspicious at first, of course, but he told her that he had been very shy about how he looked when he was younger, all gangly bones and pimples, but that he had finally come to terms with himself over the summer, and he had finally got up the courage to talk to her.

That flattered Mary. She liked to think that a boy had liked her for a long time, even if he was too shy to talk to her. It made a nice change, for once.

So, after that, there wasn't much to it. They had gone out, fooled around a few times, and then the previous night, he had told her he loved her.

It had made Mary's blood sing in her ears, and she had returned the sentiment wholeheartedly, smiling shyly at him while she did so. She When she went to bed that night, she had felt that there was no way that she could ever be happier than she was at that very instant.

Then, that morning, she had gone down to breakfast to witness the horrifyingly heart-breaking scene of Collin kissing Miranda (at least Mary had never likes her, so there wasn't a friendship lost in the fiasco), his hands on her shoulders and hers on his face.

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment, there was a ringing in her ears, and then her heart was plummeting down all the way into the ground, and she felt like she would break apart.

Mary had stayed only long enough to assure her eyes that she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing, and then she had fled out of the Great Hall, ignoring her friends calling after her.

She was now hiding in her special little corner on the Astronomy Tower behind a pillar. It was situated as to give the most incredible view of the castle grounds, but it was completely hidden from whoever else was on the roof. She had found the little comfortable nook in her fourth year, and from then on she had went there whenever she wanted to be alone. She had told no one about it, except for…..

She heard the footsteps behind her just as she remembered that she had, in fact, told someone about her hidey-hole. Turning around, she came face to face with an ashen faced Collin, who stared at her tear-stained face, not saying anything.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, swallowing her sobs and said depreciatingly in a strained and barely audible voice, "You know, if you didn't like me, you could have just told me. I mean, before you started playing with my heart and all. I mean, telling me you loved me, and then kissing Miranda? That's low, really."

Collin made a strained noise, but she ignored him, continuing.

"I mean, I guess it would've been okay if you hadn't done anything; I'm used to that. But, then you had to go and take me out, and kiss me, and told me ̶ " Mary swallowed a hiccupping sob, " ̶ told me that you loved me. That was just, that was just cruel."

Collin interrupted her before she could go on.

"No! Mary, don't, I meant it, I really did. I can't bear to have you putting yourself down. I love you, I do. As to what you saw today, I was caught completely unawares, and had you but stayed a few seconds more, you would have seen me pushing that cow off of me and trying to wipe her spit from my face. She confessed that it was a dare, and she was just fulfilling her part of the bargain." He wiped a hand across his face, grimacing before looking back at a wide-eyed Mary. He sighed, taking in her suspicious expression.

Mary, honestly, had begun to feel a bit silly, listening to his explanation. She supposed she had overreacted a bit, but he couldn't really blame her, could he?

"Mary, I know you've been hurt before. I know there were boys in your past that didn't treat you right, and like I said before, if you would just give me their names I would go decorate their faces for you." Mary let out a startled laugh at that. "But, Mary, you have got to start trusting me if you want this relationship to work."

Colling looked so earnest, that Mary put all her suspicious thoughts, (for there was still plenty of those, but they would talk about that later), aside and fell into his arms.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I guess I overreacted a bit. I just, I just don't want to lose you, alright?"

He shook his head, disturbing her hair which she had pushed underneath his chin.

"No, don't be sorry. It wasn't completely your fault, after all. And don't worry, you won't lose me. Not if I have any say in it."

Mary smiled slightly, pressing her face against his cloak.

Maybe boys weren't all the same after all.