Chapter 4

Rose

Girl's Bathroom, Second Floor

I'm… hopeless. Here I am, sitting curled up on the floor of the most depressing bathroom in the world, having a double crying performance with the famous Moaning Myrtle.

Damn Malfoy for making me suffer like this. And damn me for letting myself endure this. Al is right. I should move on and forget about Malfoy. I give a small sob. Moaning Myrtle hears.

"What's wrong?" she asks, floating in front of me. She's not really concerned. She just wants something to gossip about.

I glare at her.

"It's a boy, isn't it?" she taunts. I shrug. She sighs dreamily. "I know the feeling. You know, years and years ago, there was this boy who always visits me. We have lots in common. He's sensitive, people bully him as well, he's very lonely and he's got no one to talk to. And, you know, he's not afraid of showing his emotions. He would cry in my arms."

I raise my eyebrows. I stop crying as I listen to Myrtle's love story. It's quite interesting.

"Then," her voice lowering in suspense, "one day, when Harry Potter found out that I have been meeting secretly with this boy, he goes berserk! Harry Potter is such a jealous bloke."

My jaw drops. Myrtle is giggling like mad. I don't know if I should believe her.

"Who was the boy Harry Potter got jealous of?" I snort. Don't tell me it's my dad.

"Malfoy," she says the name with awe. I freeze. "Draco Malfoy."

Oh, his father.

I wonder if ghosts have a tendency to be delusional. I don't know much about Draco Malfoy but based on my parents' stories and common public knowledge about him, he is anything but sensitive. No one in their right mind would bully him, except probably Voldemort. Maybe he did get lonely years ago but I doubt he was that lonely to settle for a ghost as a confidant. The thought of Draco Malfoy crying is beyond preposterous. And, there's no way Uncle Harry would be jealous of him.

Someone knocks on the door. It opens and Al pokes his head in. My expression sours at the sight of him.

"What do you want, Potter?" I snap cuttingly. Moaning Myrtle stares at Al.

"I'm looking for my cousin," he drawls casually, ignoring Myrtle, "Her name's Rose Weasley. Did you happen to see her, by any chance?"

"Go away," I mutter miserably, "I'm having a moment here."

"With this ghost?" he points at Myrtle.

Myrtle seems offended by that.

"You are not Harry Potter," she cries out in indignation.

"I never said I was," he retaliates, "Now go away, four eyes."

Myrtle, forgetting that Al's also wearing glasses, gets upset and dives headfirst into the toilet.

"Way to go for scaring a ghost, Al," I say admiringly.

An awkward silence follows as Al and I glance shyly at each other.

"Sorry," we apologize at the same time.

We smile.

"Okay,"

And just like that, we're friends again.

He sits beside me on the floor.

"You do know," he remarks in disgust, "that this floor is filthy?"

I chuckle.

We remain quiet for a while as we sit on the filthy floor of a girl's bathroom. It's nice. This silence, I mean. It's so peaceful. I wish I can stay here forever. Not here in the bathroom per se but this state of mind.

"I'm being stupid right?" I ask Al softly.

Al pauses for a few seconds. He's probably debating whether to be honest or to spare me his own opinion.

"Yes, you are," he replies truthfully. I give a quiet sigh.

Another silence ensues. Al clears his throat.

"Lily told me," he reveals slowly, "about her and Malfoy just now. Apparently, she already told James a few days ago and seeing as Malfoy's still alive, I guess James is okay with it."

I didn't say anything. I don't want to know if he's okay with it, too.

"Can I be viciously honest with you, Rosie?" asks Al cautiously.

"How much worse can it get?" I murmur gently.

"Lily and Malfoy suit each other. I love you but I just don't think you and he are for… well, compatible, you know? I'm not saying that because he's a Malfoy and you're a Weasley. What I mean is, you're a good girl and he's an ass. There's just no way you two will work out. No one can tame the scorpion."

He laughs at his own joke. I remain unmoving, trying my hardest to ignore the words 'Lily and Malfoy". Why does it hurt so badly?

"Now," Al picks up again, "I'm not implying my sister's an ass, too, but she can handle Malfoy much better. And she's tough. She won't get hurt easily. While you… just look at how miserable you are. And you're not even dating the guy. You are too good for him and he is bad for you."

"It hurts," was all I can utter.

"For now. It'll go away, don't worry."

"I wish I can tell him how much he's hurting me, though. Let him know that he broke my heart and he's been walking all over it time and time again."

"You mean like a love confession?" Al smirks. He knows I can't even mutter a simple hello to Malfoy without passing out, much less a love confession. The horror of that!

"No," I grumble, "it's like I want to rage at him, accuse him of being an insensitive piece of dirt for ignoring me for the past five/six years. You know when the first and last time he talked to me?"

Al shakes his head.

"First year!" I yell, "In Potions! Remember that, Al?"

"Yeah," he chuckles at the memory, "I remember. He asked you for a parchment but you blushed then hid behind me. You were so funny."

I glare at him. "Thank you for appreciating my comedic feat. I'm so glad it's going down in history as Rose Weasley's finest moment."

Al wisely shuts his mouth.

"I can't wait for Saturday to come. I need to get wasted and just vent, you know?"

"You want to vent?"

"Yeah,"

Without another word, Al gets on his feet and helps me up.

"Come on," he grins excitedly, dragging me out of the bathroom.

"Where are we going?"

But Al ignores my question and merely smiles his famous sheepish smile.