prompt: blue moon
writer: robb-starks
-:-
He finds her sobbing in a dark corner of an abandoned classroom, and he's never been good with crying girls, okay, so don't hate him for trying to sneak away.
"Malfoy?" she asks, squinting slightly through tear-blurry eyes, her voice terribly small in the arching darkness of the empty room, "Is that you?"
"I was just -" he begins, but he doesn't get any further than that because all of a sudden she's lifting her head from her knees and he sees something that he probably should have noticed the minute he walked in and "- you cut your hair."
She nods quietly, her cheeks stained with the tracks of her tears, short red tendrils dancing about her cheekbones. He folds his arms in the doorway and examines her, the light from the corridor falling onto her slim form and catching the spark of silver in those greygrey eyes, her face dreadfully young with her hair so short. It's not as short as Jemima Peakes', he has to say, which is almost like a boy's - but it's shorter than Lucy's and it doesn't even graze her shoulders and it's a very dark red in the torchlight and the moonlight and she looks kind of... kind of like a fairy or something. (He's not great at this whole figurative language lark.)
"I like it," he ventures eventually, and she raises her pretty little face to gaze up at him in disbelief, "You look very... very French. You should get a beret or something, it would look good."
She looks like she can't decide whether he's complimenting her or insulting her, but he looks kind of genuine and so she smiles, very slightly, and then clambers to her feet and wipes her nose on her sleeve and mutters a thank you as she slips past him and out into the corridor, pausing for just a second.
"The day I wear a beret is the day the moon turns blue," she informs him with a long-lashed wink, before disappearing into the yawning cavernousness of the school. Scorpius watches her go, her newly-short hair swinging behind her, and smiles slightly to himself before turning to continue his journey to the kitchen.
The next day she wears a beret to breakfast.
a/n: please don't favorite/alert without reviewing, thanks.