Chapter Three: Ice Queen

"I hate the little bitch."

Story kept a straight face and ate her pancakes. She was sitting ten or fifteen seats down the table, a gaggle of first-years separating her sister's friends and herself, but she could hear every word from Pansy's mouth. The boys were elsewhere- Pansy didn't say rude things about Story in front of Draco, not since the Yule Ball. And she hadn't had a reason to before the Yule Ball.

"Pansy, please, she's my sister," protested Daphne, but it was half-hearted. Scarlett said something too quietly for Story to hear.

It had been gradual, drifting away from her sister and her friends, but it had happened. Story's roommates didn't much like her either. Her only friends these days were Daphne, and only when Pansy wasn't around, and Theo, which was more of a burden than a blessing. And then over the summer Daphne had hosted a sleepover for all of the girls- all of them but Millie, who was always left out because everyone found her unpleasant- and Story had come in to play with them and Pansy had made nasty, cutting remarks until Story left. And Story had no idea why, but she figured that it dated back to the Yule Ball, when Draco Malfoy had Stunned Sergei Poliakoff to prevent him from attempting to molest Astoria Greengrass.

"You know what her roommates call her?" said Pansy, still loud enough for Story to hear. "The Ice Queen. It's fitting, she's all pale and mysterious and cold."

"She's not really," said Daphne feebly," you don't know her as well as I do-"

"I don't care! The little freak is after my boyfriend, and I won't have it."

Story got up. Draco and Pansy had made it official after the Yule Ball, which was the part she really didn't understand. Pansy was sure of him. Why did she still hate Story?

She went to the library and studied until it was time for Charms, and then she went to Charms and outperformed every other student there, Slytherin and Ravenclaw alike. Flitwick praised her work on the Cheering Charms- everyone else in the room was in an impossibly good mood, Flitwick included, as a result of her wandwork. She was not in an impossibly good mood, as nobody had managed to cast a successful Cheering Charm on her.

She went back to the library and found Theo there, waiting. He stood there rather awkwardly and Story nodded to him as she settled at her usual corner table and took out her books. He sat down across from her.

"Story," he began.

She looked up, setting down her quill and folding her hands, giving him her full attention. Or the appearance of it, anyway. Her mind was still mentally writing up the Latin history of the incantation for a Cheering Charm.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you be studying for your O.W.L.s?" she said.

"Yeah, I should, but this is slightly more important," said Theo. "Pansy was saying some less-than-complimentary things about you in the Great Hall, and I wondered if-"

"-I was all right, yes, you mentioned," said Story. "I am perfectly fine, Theo. I don't place any importance on what Pansy Parkinson says or does not say about me."

"There's not much she isn't saying at the moment," he said, his eyes crinkling up in amusement at his own joke. Story wasn't much inclined to laugh at him.

"Really, Theo. I'm quite all right." She picked up her quill and began to write again, ignoring the tall boy across the table from her.

"If you need to talk," he said eventually, "I am here."

"Yes, you've made that quite clear," said Story, and for the first time she allowed a hint of impatience to creep into her voice. Theo would pick up on it, because he usually did.

There was a long pause, and then Theo said, "You know, you aren't helping your case any."

Story was completely annoyed now. She dotted her last few I's ferociously and capped her inkbottle with a slam. "My case?" she snapped. "What case, Theo? Am I supposed to be making a case? We're not in the bloody Wizengamot, and I really don't care what Pansy says. Maybe if she brought up her concerns with me, I could tell her that she has nothing to worry about. Draco was helpful last year at the Yule Ball in helping me to get rid of Poliakoff. He danced with me once and it was in a friendly manner, nothing whatsoever that she should feel threatened by. I don't have a crush on him and he clearly doesn't have a crush on me, since he's been snogging Pansy every five minutes, they're like a couple of bloody rabbits, it's really quite annoying. I'm not making a case. I just don't care and I want to be left alone. By her, by you, by everyone."

He was staring at her, and those dark-green eyes were eerie, as they always were, but they were also... tender. She hadn't expected that.

"Cool head, cool heart," he said in a soft voice. "They call you the Ice Queen for a reason. But wind you up and you're angry enough to burn any man alive."

"Theo," said Story, trying to be patient, "I do not have feelings for you. Maybe that's also why Pansy resents me, because you're interested in me and I am not interested in you and she thinks that maybe because I'm not interested in you I might be interested in Draco. I would rank Blaise before both of you, and I really don't even like him. I don't like anyone. I do not want a boyfriend and I do not need a boyfriend."

The eerie tenderness faded, to be replaced by annoyance. "You'll never know until you try it," he pointed out.

Story wanted to beat her head against the table. Instead, she piled her completed Charms homework into her textbook and closed it, then stuffed it in her bag. "Theo, please be serious for a moment."

"I am being serious," said Theo. "You asked me last year at the ball if I wanted to take an older girl over you. I told you I didn't. I still mean that. I like you, Astoria Greengrass, and I want to be your friend."

"You are my friend."

"I want to be everything you'll let me be," said Theo insistently, reaching for her hand. "Just give me a chance, Astoria. Please."

Astoria closed her eyes and sighed. "No, Theo. Just stop it."

She squeezed his hand once, to show him that she was not angry, and then she released him and walked away.