I was sitting at the table that we normally sat at in our free periods, the piece of paper seemed to gleam out at me, and the words seemed to become squiggles as my eyes blurred with fresh tears. I didn't really notice; there were only a few more hours left in this room...

The tear splashed onto the paper, and nearly made me jump a mile, then refocusing on the paper I re-read it, I'd written my name, in my horrible just-about-legible-handwriting.

Name: Isabella Marie Swan
Age: 17.
Best memory: when Fred and George were attempting to put their names into the goblet of fire...I was the one to cause the extra aging process ;)
How would you like to be remembered: Bella Swan aka. Clumsy. Not for making everyone fall like dominoes in a certain party when other schools came to Hogwarts... –coughs-

Looking down on the paper had sent a realisation through me. Four hours left in the place I had been in for seven years after running away from home.
My suitcase was sat next to me, with everything except my bird from the owlry. I picked up the piece of paper, and ran up the stone steps for the last time, I was good at running up them now, I didn't have to stop unless I fell, which this time wasn't the case.
For some reason, I had expected to see the usual dorm room...You know? Messy, looking lived in, but we had had to clean our room to make it look like we'd never been there. I felt a tear run down my face as I saw all the memories playing my head.
I went over to my bed, careful not to touch it, but instead I knelt down in front of my bedside cabinet, my fingers traced the wood, it was soft to touch, but I'd cut myself many times on it in my first year here at Hogwarts, I pulled open a few of the drawers, there was bit of paper I'd forgotten to pick up, so I quickly stuffed them into my pockets, however when I got to the bottom drawer I found my camera.

I picked it up carefully, then closed the drawer and stepped back, taking a picture of my bed, then moving back to the door and taking three pictures of what the shape of the room was.
I sighed, looking down at my feet, and then automatically moved to the window, outside was beautiful, and our dorm faced the same way as the boys apparently.

I felt round for the latch on it, but couldn't open it, so I concentrated and did a quick spell, and the window opened carefully, after five minutes of creaking, the window was open, and I took pictures then, but I had to reign myself back, as I had the rest of the school to photograph.
I made sure to close the window, and then I had an idea...no one was in the dorms now; they were all downstairs having a small celebration kind of thing.

So I walked down the cold stone steps, then doing a quick look around the common room I placed my foot on the staircase which led to the boys dorm.

"you shouldn't be going up there young lady" one the paintings retorted
"I'm trying to collect memories with my camera, I'll photograph all of you if you don't say anything" the paintings nodded thinking this was a good deal, and so I tiptoed up the boys staircase and when I reached the top, I found the beds unmade, everything was everywhere. I set the camera down and made the beds starting with what I thought was Ron's, I found they're Hoover quickly, and once I'd tidied the beds and picked everything off of the floor I did a quick Hoover and dust around the room.
I was quite proud of myself, and had just taken a picture when I voice said behind me "should you really be up here?" of course I jumped...my foot had caught itself in a bed sheet which I had carelessly left hanging out, I span then went straight into the bed.
"Ow" I complained feeling my twisted ankle.

I turned to look to see who had shaken me so bad but no one was there, I looked carefully around the room, and then re-made the bed I'd mucked up, as I went round I saw a tiny speaker and a camera. Fred and George was the only explanation I could come up with.

"Hi guys" I said resignedly, I took down the microphone and camera and held them in my hands.
"Are you coming down to the party?" they asked at the same time.
"I'm just trying to make memories" I repeated
"come down to the party and we're sure Malfoy will want memories too" Fred joked.
"Guys...Shut it!" I felt myself blush. I may be a 'mudblood' but that didn't stop me fancying Malfoy, and get this...he knew I fancied him, he played that card every time I tried to stick up for anyone, every time I tried to talk to him I'd walk away in tears, cheeks as red as red rose petals.