Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

Lily Luna Potter.

Sometimes, I want to kill her.

This evening, I was innocently minding my own business when she ruined my life.

So yeah, I guess you could say that now is one of those times.

"Rosey-posey," my best friend, Emma, calls as she walks up the stone steps to our dormitory (where, yes, I'll admit I'm hiding).

"Go away," I grumble from under my covers and pillow.

She laughs and pulls my quilt off my bed, exposing my extremely red face. I saw it in the leaded windows on my way (escape) up here, and I silently cursed my father for giving me his blushing genes.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" she asks, sitting on the end of my bed.

I look around the dormitory to make sure it's empty before announcing, "Lily Potter has ruined my life."

"Oh, Rose," Emma says sadly, "I think it's time that you stop being so melodramatic. What has she done, branded you with the Dark Mark?"

I sigh. "Worse."

She's obviously trying to hold in a laugh. "It's not funny!" I protest, crossing my arms across my chest and pouting.

"Well, what is it, then? I've been in the library with Harold…er—studying," she says, avoiding my glance. I roll my eyes. Emma and Harold are probably the most active couple in our year. But nobody really cares that much except them.

"Riiight," I reply snarkily. "And don't worry yourself too much—my darling cousin just told all of Gryffindor that I am currently in love with Scorpius Malfoy."

Emma gasps and pales. "She didn't! Why? And who heard?"

I sigh and say, "Oh, just about all of my relatives in Gryffindor, who have by now undoubtedly told all of their siblings in other Houses, who have by now undoubtedly a) announced it to all of Hogwarts, and b) my parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other random hangers-on."

"But why?" Emma can't seem to grasp the fact that Lily and I are not always exactly the best of friends…especially since I may have accidentally stolen Greg McLaggen from her last year.

"I wouldn't help her with her Potions homework," I say quietly, feeling a little ashamed. I mean, Lily is my cousin. It wasn't my fault that sometimes she could be a bitch.

Emma shook her head. "Rose, you know how high-strung she is."

"Well, it didn't help that she blew up at me for being 'a selfish bookworm who only looks to benefit herself and would never stoop to help someone in real need'! It's not like she even tries to do her homework! No, everyone thinks that they can just take advantage of sweet little Rose, who probably should've been in Ravenclaw but by some slip of the Hat landed herself in Gryffindor," I vent, getting a little angry again.

"I don't take advantage of you," Emma says loyally. "And I think that it would've been a shame if the Hat put you in Ravenclaw instead."

"It wouldn't have been too bad if Lily had ended up in Slytherin," I mumble into my pillow.

Emma laughs. "Can you imagine what kind of trouble she would've been up to by now? She's better off with good influences like me and you."

I shrug, not willing to agree just yet.

"So…does Scorpius know yet?" she asks hesitantly.

"Probably," I say glumly. "Can I just cry myself to sleep now?"

Emma nods and silently leaves the dormitory to give me some privacy.

But I can't sleep. All night, I toss and turn and wonder if he knows. And who told him. What he thought. Does he think I'm a freak? A stalker? A loser? What if he hates me now? Scorp had been one of my friends before this. Are we still friends? Dear Lord, what if he pretends it never happened? How embarrassing!

It takes all the Gryffindor courage inside me to walk down the seven floors to the Great Hall the next morning, knowing that I'll face everyone talking about me, knowing one of my deepest secrets. I pass Albus at the Ravenclaw table, but there's no sign of Scorpius yet. Even though I would give anything to turn my back on the situation, I know I have to face the Ravenclaws so that I can see what happens.

Emma tries to distract me with a story about burning the roof of her mouth on a particularly hot strip of bacon when she was seven, but I can't focus on her when he walks into the room. I swear that everyone stops talking for about five seconds as he puts his bag down under the bench and sits opposite from Al, facing me.

"Hello? Earth to Rose!" Emma says impatiently, waving a quill in my face.

"Wha—? Oh, sorry, Em," I reply absently, mistaking a kipper for a sausage. Ew.

Nobody is looking at me anymore, so I hope that they've all been miraculously Obliviated (or that they just don't care). What hurts is that Scorpius doesn't even look at me. I thought he might at least try to catch my eye.

Emma heads off to Care of Magical Creatures, leaving me to deal with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy all by myself. It doesn't help that we're with the Ravenclaws for both those classes.

I know I shouldn't, as I'm a prefect and wouldn't mind becoming Head Girl, but I quickly swallow a Nosebleed Nougat from Uncle George's shop five minutes into Ancient Runes and beg Professor Junca to let me go to the Infirmary. Scorpius shoots me a concerned look as I heave my heavy schoolbag onto my shoulder and leave the classroom, and I silently hope that he'll follow me to make sure I'm okay.

He doesn't though, and I quickly heal my condition in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, then prepare to spend a long two hours there by myself—or so I thought.

"Running away from class, are we?" Myrtle asks, swooping from an S-bend with a splash.

"N-not exactly," I reply, folding the wrapper into my planner and shoving it into my bag.

"Oh?" she says, posing on the porcelain sink in front of me. I see my reflection through her transparent form and see that my face is as pale as the marble tiles on the floor.

At least it's not red anymore, I think with a grimace.

"Don't make faces at me!" Myrtle says, pouting and starting to swoop around the bathroom again.

"I'm not, I'm making them at myself," I reply, hoping she'll stop making a ruckus before a teacher comes in. Or worse, Peeves.

"Why?" she asks, suddenly caring again. I feel as though she enjoys watching others in emotional distress.

"My stupid cousin let a huge secret out about me, and now everyone knows, including the one that it concerned," I say vaguely. I don't need Moaning Myrtle spreading my gossip now, too.

"That's it?" she asks, looking a little crestfallen. "That's not anything that interesting."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," I say coldly, gathering my things. "I think I'll return to class now, if you don't mind."

She tut-tuts and dives into one of the toilets with a great splash, probably to go swimming with the Giant Squid.

I reenter the classroom and tell Professor Junca, "Madam Pomfrey cleared it up in no time," with a bright smile on my face.

It's only about five minutes into resuming note-taking when Al shoves a scrap of parchment across the table.

Why did you leave before? I know Nosebleed Nougat when I see it.

Albus Potter! I reply. I'm trying to take notes, if you don't mind!

I know what this is about. At least, I think. Meet me behind the witch-burning tapestry after class.

I sigh. Al is probably my best guy friend (and my best friend from my family), and even though he's not a girl and doesn't always get girl-drama, he knows when something's going on. Too bad what's going on is that I've been secretly in love with his best friend since last June.

It was a warm, balmy day, and I was studying with Al and Scorp out by the lake. Our Transfiguration final was the last one of the week, and it was the only one we still had to go. Everyone else was already celebrating the end of term with raucous parties in the various common rooms, swims in the lake, pickup Quidditch matches, and dangerous rounds of Exploding Snap. Being my best friend, Emma saw fit to make out with Harold in an abandoned broom cupboard.

I was just studying about the differences between Animagi and humans transfigured into animals when It happened.

"You have a leaf in your hair," Scorpius said, reaching over to take it out without permission. His fingers grazed my forehead as he pulled it out, and he smoothed my hair afterwards with this little smile on his face.

My heart instantly started beating overtime, and every cell in my body was on alert. I wondered if I was possibly having a heart attack. I couldn't help but notice how muscular his forearms were and how nice they looked when they were so tanned from spending time in the sun. I liked the ripples they made when he turned a page in his textbook. I liked the way he was lounging against the tree trunk, with his long legs crossed at the ankles. I liked the way he took a humongous bite of his apple, and the way his jaw moved when he chewed it. I liked the way the wind tousled his white-blond hair. I suddenly was caught up with wondering how it felt and what it smelled like.

Neither Albus nor Scorpius noticed the change in me. I eventually had to leave to study in the library because I was so distracted. I mean, before that fateful moment, I had no idea that my cousin's best friend could be so sexy.

And before the fateful moment yesterday, no one else, besides Lily, Victoire, Dominique, Molly, Lucy, Roxanne (playing Truth or Dare at three in the morning on New Years when everyone is smashed just enough to forget what are secrets and what aren't, but not to forget what everyone did or said, especially among Weasleys, is a mistake that is not worth making), and Emma (who I can't help but tell everything) knew, either.

As I plod along towards the tapestry decorated with flames and pools of blood, I compare my life to one of the witches who were burned at the stake for being themselves. I never asked to want my best friend and cousin's best friend. Who would ask for this? It's not my fault that Scorpius Malfoy is just a bundle of sexy!

"Rose," Al whispers from behind the tapestry. I didn't realize that I was staring at it while imagining spending time in a broom cupboard with a certain Malfoy.

I slip into the hidden alcove, where I've found plenty of broom-cupboard couples before when doing prefect rounds.

"I know," he says in a low voice. It's actually kind of creepy.

"Er—yeah," I say, scratching at my collar. Why do they make these blasted uniforms so hot and itchy?

"I had to tell him, Rosie," he continues sadly.

"Er—yeah," I repeat, not sure what to say. They should make guides for when your cousin is confronting you about fancying his best friend in a hidden alcove behind a violently-decorated tapestry, because I have no idea what to say.

Al sighs. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say?" I retort. "It's not as if you would've been fine with it. 'Right, Rosie, that's just peachy, I wonder if my friend's up for a snog with my cousin. I'll go ask him. Cheers!'"

Albus looks shocked. "WHAT?"

I swallow. Oops.

"Er—I guess that's not what you meant," I squeak, watching my cousin's face grow an acute shade of plum.

"WHAT DID YOU MEAN?"

"Er—you first," I suggest, still verging on a squeak.

"ROSE—WEASLEY!"

"Er—yes?"

Al looks like he's just seen the Grim. Or maybe the Grim with Voldemort riding on his back, carrying a sign that says, 'Spawn of Harry Potter, You Will Be Killed,' with a wand pointed straight at his chest.

I feel a little bad for the poor boy. He obviously wasn't expecting this. "Maybe you should sit down, or something," I say, offering him my arm. He nods stiffly and slides down the stone wall, landing with a thump at the bottom.

"I was talking about Uncle George," he says weakly, "and how I had to owl him about you—perfect Rosie!—using one of his products to skive off lessons. But no! You had to drop a—a—what's that Muggle term?"

"A bomb?" I say helpfully. I'm surprised he hasn't listened to Grandpa Weasley a little bit better.

"A bomb!" he says, looking distraught. "I had no idea! This is just horrible! Can you imagine? What if I told you I shagged Emma?"

"Now, Al, that's completely different. First of all, Emma has Harold, and according to her, he's just fine at it. Secondly, I haven't done anything. I'm a little insulted that you've implied that I have no self-control."

Al shudders. "No, you haven't done anything, but you've thought about it, and that's worse."

I contemplate this. "Are you trying to tell me that you secretly fantasize about Emma? Because I'm sure she'd be honored to know."

"No!" he almost yells. "I mean, no. Don't be ridiculous."

"You do!" I say triumphantly. "I can see it in your eyes! You can't look at me! Look me in the eye and tell me that you think that Emma is ugly and that you would never under any circumstances want to take advantage of her."

He can't. He won't do it.

"This isn't about me!" he nearly shouts, flustered. "It's about you! I should've known when Lily was telling me something last night, but I was so focused on that blasted Ancient Runes translation—"

"So you didn't know?" I ask, hope dawning on me like the break of a new day. I can almost hear the birds singing. My little sparrow wings are just about to take flight when he says,

"No, but I think Scorp does."

The little sparrow within me ran into a clear window and fell to the ground with an ungraceful thump.

"What do you mean, 'I think Scorp does'? You just said you had no idea!"

Al rubs his eyes with his hands. "Lily was telling him something last night, and he looked extremely interested. And he kept asking me these weird questions until about one in the morning."

"Like what?" Suddenly, I'm dying to know.

Al is just about to tell me when the bell rings, signaling that break is over.

"Like what?" I repeat, not letting him leave.

"I don't know, weird stuff," he says, trying to plow through me to get to Arithmancy.

"Tell me!" I beg, taking off after him.