(98)

It was disconcerting, even then, the way our friends looked at us. Like they believed we were in a trance, and would snap out of it any time soon.

If they were right, then I'm still captivated by you. And I don't want to wake to reality.

Advanced Potions, our seventh year. Assignment was to brew veritaserum. It was a very…interesting lesson, shall I say? Extremely enlightening. I still smile at the memory.

(She's looking at me with a weird look on her face, no doubt I look like a complete fool, with my mouth all stretched and giggling as I write this. She doesn't get it. Us. And she never will.

Never.)

As the top students, we thought Slughorn would pair us off together, but he didn't. He truly was the master of testing students. I think he wanted to see what results we would attain if we were separated. Were we strengthened by our partnership? Were we defined as a couple, and simply ceased to function as individuals? Or, perhaps, were we brilliant in our own ways, but simply flourished if we were working aside one another?

(We both know the answer to that question.)

So, I was partnered with one of your best friends. I can't remember his name right now, it was so long ago. But I remember that he was not one of the henchmen-type 'friends' that trailed behind you like a lost puppy, but one of those who actually possessed individual, intelligent thought.

"I'm still not sure, exactly, why you two like each other." He said, as I banked the fire and he chopped up some slug hearts.

"I don't know either," I had replied, rather truthfully, "But I think, on some level, we were always attracted to each other. Just that our juvenile minds could not comprehend our feelings, and so directed them into channels that we understood."

"Hate," he smirked, stirring in the leeches.

"No. Passion."

"They did say that love and hate were two sides of the same coin. You two pretty much demonstrated that fact."

"I disagree," I took a ladleful of beetle eyes and carefully added it to the bubbling cauldron. "What we felt in our earlier years was not hate. It was misunderstanding. If I truly hated him, I'll not be here, talking with you. If I had hated him, and he hated me, I'd have more scars than fond memories, and I wouldn't have so readily forgiven him of his past misdeeds towards me."

"Hmm…" He didn't believe me. Of course he didn't. He was witness to nearly all of our arguments, fights, duels, and petty backstabbing. He was the one who was the recipient of a ricocheted spell I'd cast, and accompanied you to the Hospital Wing, groaning in pain together for two days and three nights. Your very best friend.

On the other side of the dungeons, you were probably having a similar conversation with one of my best friends. I couldn't hear you two, but I think it probably went something like this:

"So, you're dating my friend."

"Yes. Though dating sounds…flimsy."

"Well, isn't it? Aren't you two just venting out some feelings? All that built-up animosity, I suppose, must go somewhere."

"Perhaps. But our supply has long been used up, or maybe we never really were capable of such hostility towards each other."

"Please, the number of times I visited her in the Hospital Wing because of you-"

"-Our fights were childish, the product of infantile ignorance. Strong feelings are extremely difficult to put a label on, and even if we could, what we felt probably had multiple conflicting labels. It's-It's difficult to explain."

"Put that knife down and look at me. Tell me you like her."

"I can't. That would be undermining our relationship."

"What a load of utter bullshit. You don't like her, do you? Do you? She's just a toy to you, something to pass the time with-"

"-The only reason, why my fist is not in our face right now, is because I don't want her friends to be hurt on my account. How dare you say something like that to me-how-fucking-dare-you."

This was where you stood up, and in your anger, knocked over your stool. I had heard the last bit, and winced, because I knew you, and I knew my friend. Both stubborn and proud mules, the both of you. Cut from the same cloth, just too blind to recognize how similar you both were.

"I won't say I like her, because I love her. Do you even fucking get what that means? Do you? Insinuating that she's just a-a-distraction, a momentary toy that will inevitably get thrown back into the chest is-is- insulting, at the very least. I don't care if you slander my name, or my family's, but if you question my feelings for her, you question hers, too. And I won't stand for you to insult her-"

Now, this is the part where somebody blocked my view, but the next thing I saw was my friend clutching an empty vial and you gagging on the floor.

My friend was a competent potion maker. I knew he wouldn't poison you, on purpose or otherwise. He himself had gotten out of a difficult relationship recently and was in that stage of denial. Thinking that love is a universal lie, created by romantics and devious beings who sought to ensnare pitiful, hopeless creatures, only to release them with nothing but broken hearts. I finally broke him away from the firewhisky by that lesson, but his scars remained, and he was hurt deeply.

Your friend and I rushed to your side. Only I propped you back against the table, and your friend's fist collided with my friend's face, just like you had wanted to do. Slughorn did nothing, just quietly observed us. Part of the test, I reckon, or maybe he was too old and lazy to actually do something.

Your eyes had gone scarily vacant, and I struggled to keep you upright. Your friend finally realized what was more important and helped me, while I mopped up my friend's bleeding nose, all the while lecturing him and pressing harder than necessary.

"I just want the truth," he told me, wincing, "I don't understand how anybody-let alone him- can actually believe in all this crap."

"I believe in this 'crap'," I reminded him, rather drily. "Why aren't you forcing veritaserum down me?"

"Because even though I really want to, it goes against the code of friendship."

"I didn't realize we had a code."

"It's not written. It's just there. Just like, as your male best friend, and in the absence of any older brothers or fathers, it comes to me to treat your boyfriend like utter shit. It's in the description box-it's practically a tradition."

I frowned, "it would be more believable if you stop grinning."

He shrugged, "enjoying it is also part of the contract. Just like his female best friend is supposed to get him back on track, away from 'distractions'. Did you not read any of the books I gave you?"

"No, and I definitely will not, after that little rousing speech of yours."

By the time I stopped his nosebleed, you were sitting down like an obedient child, with your friends clustered around you, and mine around me. Two opposing sides. All eagerly awaiting for a big showdown.

"Is it true," my friend demanded, "that you believe in-love?"

"Yes."

You said it so certainly that my heart skipped a beat. Even with the full effects of the potion, you managed to find me in the sea of faces and kept your eyes locked with mine.

"And who are you in…love with?"

"Her." A finger pointed directly at me, so, so certain. I should have kissed you right then and there.

"And what will you do for her, if your parents found out?"

You frowned, "everything I need to do, even if it meant defying my family."

I think all the girls, on your side and mine, sighed a little at that. I did, too. I had to sit down.

My friend had wanted some hesitation on your part, or at the very least, a reluctance to divulge information. But your conviction, your strong faith in our relationship, surpassed everything my friend expected. I believe that it was this, and the way you directed your answers to me instead of him, was what won him over.

In retrospect, I know that it was at this point where there was no going back.

You and I, we are in this together. Until death do us part.