Preface
"Since when do you fancy redheads?" Luce asked her eldest friend. The duo had met at a very young age, being that their fathers were close growing up, and now the two could say the same. Ever since three years of age (as far back as they could remember) they'd been inseparable.
"What's wrong with redheads?" Dean wanted to know, noting Monty's annoyed tone. The name was something he'd taken to calling her since they were seven. To put it simply, she didn't care much for her first name anymore, so he devised a new one. Calling her Montgomery (her last name) proved to be a mouthful, which is why he settled for Monty. It was a name that stuck, thanks to him. Nowadays, practically everyone called her by it (not that she minded).
"Nothing," she sighed. "I just don't understand how you could like Ginny. I mean, you've hardly spoken more than a word or two with her. You're not even in the same year for Merlin's sake," Luce went on, feeling worn down and exasperated. She didn't want him to like Weasley.
"I'll get to know her better this term," the sixteen year-old justified his feelings.
"Why don't you go get started, then?" she suggested, knowing that if she didn't get away from him soon she'd break down.
"Something wrong, Monty?" Dean knew her better than anyone and could tell instantly when something was troubling her.
"Of course not," she lied. "I just wanted to get to bed early tonight. I'm tired."
"I don't believe you," he watched her unblinkingly. "Tell me what's wrong."
Luce took a deep breath. "Nothing is wrong. Go talk to Ginny, would you? You know you want to."
"Are you sure?" he checked. Yes, he wanted to join the youngest Weasley for the last part of this Thursday evening's feast, but he wouldn't leave if his best friend was upset.
She nodded a bit too quickly, "Positive. Now go," she tried smiling reassuringly. "I'll catch up with you later."
"You're the best, Monty," he ruffled her hair and set off to find his crush.
"Right…the best," Luce muttered. She then slowly got up from the table, no longer having an appetite, and retreated to the dormitories where a long night of crying awaited her.