"Lily, I'm kidding." Aen rolls his eyes. I recover quickly.

"Aen, it's OK. We all know you have a secret love of frilly dresses." I say, patting him on the back. Aen looks startled.

"No, I'm…"

"Aen." I shake my head sadly at him. "Don't deny it. It's a part of you." Aen blanches.

"Lily! I swear I was kidding! Really! You have to believe me!" All cool exterior has crumbled, and he is completely panicked already. And I'm just getting started.

"Aen." Rose gets in on the action. "This is just sad. Accept yourself." And THIS is why she's my best friend. She can catch a fastball!

"Lily, Rose…" Aen is freaking out. He grabs my shoulders, and shakes me. "I'm lying! I mean, I'm not lying! Wait, what?"

"I knew it." Rose announced. "At least you have the strength to admit it."

"I think we should get him a purple gown." I muse aloud, tapping my chin.

"Are you crazy? That would totally clash with his eyes!" Rose stares at me.

"But, it's like how my cousin, who has green eyes, wears lavender eyeshadow. It makes them pop!" I argue.

"Mmmm… true. But, should we match it to his skin, eyes, or hair?" Rose asks.

"Guys!" Aen looks like he's about to faint.

"Eyes, but again, I think we should do the purple to make them stand out." I insist.

"OK, I guess you're right. Hey, do you want me to make a new dress for you? Or use an existing one?" Rose asks. Aen claps his hands over his ears and runs away, shooting back at us,

"Lalalalala! I can't heaaaaaar youuuuuu!"

"Well. That's fairly immature." I calmly remark. Rose nods.

"Rather."

"Rose, Angus is picking me up in three minutes, and I'm freaking out. Wait a minute, where is he picking me up!? Oh no… Oh no…" Rose clutches her hair.

"You. Didn't. Settle. Small. Details? Lily, you're hopeless." Just then, a large splotchy owl soars in through the window, and plops a small velvet bag on my bed. The pouch is drawstring, and has a pretty gold card attached to it that reads, To Lily, from Angus. P.S- don't freak out. I'd have more time to contemplate that, but suddenly the owl hoots, snatches a treat from the small bowl of owl treats I keep on my bedside table for Araceli, and drops it in Araceli's cage. The strange owl hoots again, only softly, and Araceli takes the treat, breaks it in half with her beak, and gives one of the pieces to the splotchy owl. I look at Rose, who is watching the entire affair with mooney eyes.

"What are they-" I begin.

"Oh, Lily! Don't you know anything about owls? This is how they show interest in each other as a potential mate." She gushes. "Typically they use a mouse the male kills, but I guess they had to make do."
"Ah. Because the most expensive treats in Hogsmeade are 'making do'." I grumble. Rose shrugs. "And by the way, I know you're stealing the treats at night." I add. Rose sheepishly looks at her shoes.

"Sorry. It's just that Aliquam likes them almost as much as chocolate covered pear slices." Aliquam being her mouse.

"Wait a minute! Are you feeding MY special, way better then that store-made junk, homemade dark chocolate dipped pear slices I give out as birthday presents?!"

"He ate one once and now he's addicted! If I don't feed them to him, he revolts!" Rose says defensively. I shake my head.

"Grrr. Just stop stealing my fancy treats. My EXPENSIVE FANCY TREATS. Conversation over?"

"Agreed." Rose says. We shake. Suddenly, my attention is drawn to the pouch the owl left.

"Merlin! We forgot to open the pouch!" I bite my lip, feeling guilty. What if it's, like, a miniature of a dragon? And the poor thing is dead from too lack of oxygen? Dad has a cute little Hungarian Horntail. It's a feisty little thing. He named it Hagrid, which caused the big half-giant to sob on him for days in happiness, and, because he was affectionate about the cute little dragon, had a clear box, about the size of a large dresser, filled with the coolest toys and fake forests and mountains for it, which dad ALSO uses as a convenient nightstand. He also takes it out once a day on a tiny, fireproof leash where it can fly (somewhat) freely to its heart's content. I remember clearly, however, the day it set fire to mom's favorite armchair. She yelled for five minutes before dad extinguished the flame that had been struggling to grow, and said the dragon had to be outside during "free time".

"Well, open it now!" Rose orders. "And don't worry, it's only been, like five minutes."

"Fine, fine." I weigh the pouch in my hand. It's weightless. I reach for my favorite pen, poke it through the puckered hole on top, and wedge my finger in the crack the pen created. (Hey, what if the dragon was to bite me?). I pull it all the way open. Nothing. I pull at the bag again, and scream as suddenly a small firework bursts in the air. Then, out of the blue, the world dissolves and turns upside down.