Leave Out All the Rest

Chapter 21: Cheers to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts

POV: Al, Emily, James, Lily, Scorpius

We were walking in a comfortable silence, our shoes leaving distinct footprints on the snow that covered the streets of the village. A chorus of laughter, shouts, and loud conversations rang through the chilly air around us, adding to the sweet melody that played from a music store that'd just opened.

And after roaming the village for a while, stopping at certain stores that would catch our eye or stopping to greet a few friends, I twist my fingers away from a hand they'd been clutching. "Witches first," I said politely to the brunette girl as I opened the door for her as we arrived at our destination.

"Then, by all means, go ahead and step inside," Evanna Nott said with a coy smile, her eyes twinkling in smugness. "I wouldn't want you to catch a cold, so come on, come on," she added as she ushered me inside the tea shop.

I laughed, feeling the warm air grace my skin. "Oi, you wild beast. I was under the impression this would be a gentle date."

"I was expecting quite the opposite, actually," Evanna replied, her smirk still there. "I honestly thought I was going to be getting a little James Potter. But, you'd be pleased to know, you're nothing like your brother. You're actually quite the gentleman."

I rolled my eyes teasingly. "Yeah, well, you're just saying that because my brother pranked Ravenclaw last month. I'm sorry he got you with the automated stink-bombs." But before giving her a chance to reply, an elderly witch with white hair approached us; a smile in greeting. "Table for two, please," I said to her.

The elderly lady nodded her head happily, her giant eyes eager. "Welcome to Madam Puddifoot's, the romantic spot of Hogsmeade; where our teas are carefully brewed and our sweets are deliciously cooked."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Well, that's jolly."

Leading us to a little table at the edge of the shop, the elderly witch nodded solemnly; sighing with her lack of previous enthusiasm. "Ever since Madam Puddifoot passed away ten years ago, Miss Puddifoot thinks it's of great 'elegance' to sound 'poetic' towards our guests. It's a must from now on, so she expects us to walk around like we're on the Cheering Charm. A nutter, that woman is."

As Evanna settled herself on the seat I pulled out for her, she looked at the woman with white hair in sympathy. "That's very unpleasant, I'm sure."

"Yes, dear, it's quite tragic and embarrassing. Imagine, a woman my age with that nonsense? But nonetheless, Miss Puddifoot pays good wages." And back with her cheering smile, she handed us menus. "Enjoy your date. I'm sure Madam Puddifoot's made you realize it was fate."

And as the poor witch grimaced at her embarrassment for sounding like a Muggle children's book author, I shook my head; clucking my tongue. And just as I was about to comment on that, I noticed that something was crossing Evanna's mind as she knitted her brows in thought.

After a few moments of silence, glancing around the room, staring at the other couples in other tables, Evanna flashed her eyes at me. "Can I ask you something?" She asked in a small voice. I nodded and she continued after taking a deep breath. "Why did you bring me here? I mean, it's a lovely place with all the rhyming greetings and floating, pink hearts," her finger pointed to the decorations over our heads, then back down to a candle that was emitting out those floating hearts.

"I wanted it to be a proper date," I said, shrugging a little as I tried not to think of it too much. "I mean, I…you know…And I wanted you to feel special."

She was grinning at me, her eyes back to looking smug, but much sweeter. "Well, thank you, Potter. I do feel special." She chuckled a bit, this time looking away from me as she pulled off her mittens. "And I'm sure my father will be pleased to know you were a true gentleman."

"What—why?" I asked loudly, outrage instantly taking over me. "Why would you tell your dad that?" Oh, Merlin. I hadn't even thought that Evanna was someone's daughter, some wizard's daughter. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not daft. I obviously knew she had parents, but I didn't expect her to be a daddy's girl, you know?

"I have a very close relationship with my father," she said to me as she leaned against the back of her seat, smiling gently as I groaned at her comment. "I tell him everything, Potter. And, sure, some things are better left unsaid, but I trust my father with everything. And this was something that I trust him with."

Trying not to scoff at her remark, I managed to pull on a face that disagreed with her. "Well, what did Mister Nott say when you told him you were off on a date with Harry Potter's son?"

"Honestly, Potter," she was the one to scoff, no doubt sensing my annoyance. "I know you know my father's Theodore Nott; a Slytherin classmate of your dad's. And sure, our fathers weren't friends or anything, but it's not like he's going to throw a fit because I go out with you. He just wants me to enjoy myself, and kick your wand in if you attempt to get roguish with me."

She started laughing, looking thoroughly amused. I chuckled along with her, shaking my head as I sighed; feeling a little more at ease. "So, did I make a mistake bringing you here? You don't cross me as the tea and sweets type of girl," I redirected the subject as a waitress headed towards the table next to us where a girl was gushing over everything with her boyfriend.

Reaching out for my hand, Evanna smiled at me with twinkling, white teeth. "Though I am more of a Butterbeer girl, I do appreciate this, Potter. I know how difficult it is to reserve a table here during Hogsmeade trips with all these love-bound gits."

"…I guess it's just that I've never tried this," I told her sincerely. "I just sort of went off planning this date by what I've seen others do. I'm just a poor, idiot bloke trying to impress you."

And though my tone was mocking, Evanna took it seriously; squeezing my hand once more. "I don't know how you've stayed single so long, Potter. You're absolutely charming," her smile was still there, but another thought crossed her eyes and that smile decreased. "…Though, there are rumors you fancy Nia Harper."

A flash of blonde hair, sapphire-blue eyes, a heartbreaking smile past my eyes, and I shook my head from the imagine trying to sink into my mind. And with that, with not wanting to think about that, I leaned forward from my seat; closing the gap between the Ravenclaw and I.

With a pounding heart, emotions going in different directions, I kissed her with all the determination I could conjure up. And as we kissed, as she happily moved her lips with mine, her heart making the loudest sound, her hand on the side of my face, I knew what I had to do.

"I fancy you, Nott," I breathed over her lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Smiling at the whisper that graced her face, Evanna leaned a little closer. "I would like to," she murmured back to me, closing the gap between us once more. Instead of placing her mouth on mine again, however, she put them on my cheek. "Now, you'll get another proper snog once you buy me a Butterbeer."

"Just one snog?" I asked teasingly as we both pulled away.

Lifting herself from the chair, making me do the same, the Ravenclaw said, "Well, I might need a little warming up from this cold weather." She took my hand, leading me out of Madam Puddifoot's. "So be a good boy and we will have a proper snogging session."

I grinned hugely. "Merlin, bless Hogsmeade."

X

Staring at the grey clouds that were approaching through the darkening sky as we sat on a hill covered in snow, I turned to face the boy with golden eyes twisted into a deep thought. "Are you alright?"

Turning from a faraway point he was engrossed with, Lance Greyback raised a brow at me. "Perfectly. Why do you ask?"

"You haven't really said anything for the past twenty minutes," I told him, part of me feeling self-conscious.

Rolling his eyes at me in a way that suggested he was annoyed yet amused as he caught my emotion, Lance scooted closer to me. "I'm just enjoying this," he whispered to me, putting his arm around my shoulder. "Just you and me, away from everyone else. Alone."

My cheeks flushed pink. "…You say that like I'm the slightest bit intriguing to waste time with."

"But you are," he said, his arm tightening and pulling me further into his side. "You are the most…appealing witch in the castle, Emily."

Not helping myself, I snorted at that. "Isn't that a typical thing a guy says to a girl to impress her?" Though I probably should feel slightly bad about my straightforwardness, I didn't. I couldn't possibly see what he saw in me, why he was so sweet. He just hung around like a puppy following after his chew-toy.

"I'm not your typical boy," his words were offended. "I'm more than the average wizard, than the average person. I know what I want and I always get it," he gave me another squeeze with his arms. "Forgive me for my directness, Emily, but it's true. From the moment I laid eyes on you, from the moment I was in close range to grasp all of you…I knew I had to have you."

There went that chill again—that cold sensation racing up my spine that told me I needed to flee, that I needed to run away from him. There was something about the way he talked; about the way I felt that his words had a double-meaning to them. "…What do you mean by that?"

"I want you, Emily." And in a quick movement, he lifted me away from the snow beneath me, away from the numbness the cold of the snow gave me that I loved, and placed me on him.

I was on his lap now, the warmth of his body sending automatic jolts to every centimeter of skin that I sported. His heated fingers found their way into the grey coat I was wearing, resting them on my waist with a domineering hold.

"…I crave your closeness," he added in a rough tone, that double-meaning in it again.

Nervousness crept into me now and I had to look away from his face. I had never been able to talk to any guys in an intimate matter, nothing like this, that is. I had the greatest boy-friends—James Potter and Scorpius Malfoy were the proof of that; even Al and Liam—but there was never a moment that went beyond my comfort zone. I'd never desired to get close to them, to touch them, to have them touch me; emotionally or physically.

But then Lance came along and it was like there was something about him, something raw that stirred me. It was like he was bewitching me, reeling me in with the way he talked and smelled.

"…Are you going home for the holidays?" I cleared my throat, pushing away those ideas.

Moving his hands away from my waist, he dragged them down to my thighs. "I suppose I might, yes. My mother wouldn't want to spend it alone since my grandparents aren't the festive type."

"And your dad?" I pressed, trying my hardest to steer him away from his prior, heated conversation.

"I was thinking of staying in the Leaky Cauldron instead of my mother's house," he said to me as he began to move his left hand up and down my thigh; leaving a warm trail behind, "since I have important matters to attend to in London. It's been a few years since I've seen my dad, but I guess I'll stop by and say hello then."

I nodded slowly, swallowing uncomfortably. "Will your mom be okay with that?" I asked him, remembering what he'd told me.

Lance's parents were separated since he was two—which, he mentioned, was frowned upon by his grandparents and the Wizarding World. And though this was a costume most old families valued, Lance said his mother couldn't deal with his father's explosions of rage and had to live her life from him. And ever since then, he's been isolated from his father.

"It's going to be problematic to get a hold of him," Lance huffed, "he's always so…secluded. There has to be certain…times when one is allowed to."

I raised an eyebrow. "But you're his son."

He shrugged at my statement, and thinking that he was about to continue explaining about his father, he caught me off guard when he turned me on his lap so I could straddle him. Once again, my eyes were wide with shock as they stared into his golden eyes; a flush seeping into my cheeks that burned red.

"Lance…"

"Come away with me," he muttered, ignoring my awkwardness as he gripped me tighter and inhaled deeply. "Let's go away together, Emily. We'll disappear before the trains stop, I can apparate now. I'm a legal adult—we can go away."

My heart gave a panicked leap, something flashing in warning. "I can't, Lance," I told him as gently as I could. "My family, they won't allow."

He pushed me deeper into him, our chests connecting and shivers racing up my back as he snuggled his face into my neck. "We'll camp in the woods," he whispered against my flesh. "We'll be around the falling snow, with the night…With the moon, just you and I." He breathed deeply, and then pulled away from my neck; his forehead now touching mine. "I can't be away from you so many days, Emily."

My head was spinning now, thousands of thoughts all leading up to one question: was Lance Greyback in love with me?

Sure, that sounds a bit conceited right off the bat, but I'm not the arrogant type. I can't even look in the mirror without feeling uneasy, but that just comes with years of degrading myself, right? But what I meant was that all the signs of a boy being in love with a girl were there. The next question was: am I in love with him?

No, absolutely not. If I were to associate the word love with anyone, it wasn't Lance's golden eyes that came into my mind. But things were different now, Lance was here. I didn't know anything about him—not anything that he didn't want me to know, and he didn't know anything about me that I didn't want to reveal. He understood me; he manipulated me not to feel what I always felt.

Yes, that was selfish, I am aware, but I liked it. He was numbness. He was this doze of pain-killers that fell from the moon and stars when I most needed it. It wasn't love, wasn't friendship, it was a bond of understanding. And a giant part of me wanted to hold on to that for as long as I could.

"Stay with me, Lance," grabbing his warm face with my hands, I stared deeply into those honey-colored eyes; something in my voice sounding like a plea. "Promise me that, okay? Promise me that and I'll go with you wherever."

I couldn't risk losing him, not like I've done with everyone else. He would be the only one allowed to go in, to see the skeletons I carried and endure them. I didn't wish that type of fate to me friends, which is why I kept them all away—they didn't need to be involved in the horrors that were my shadow.

The wind blew between us and Lance let out a groan that sounded like a howl. And without answering my question, his response came in the form of a passionate kiss as he smashed his lips against mine. And soon enough, he bit my bottom lip like he'd done with every stolen kiss he'd taken since the moment we met.

"Your fate's mine now," he muttered, sending a bolt of fear into my blood as he began kissing me with an animalistic manner.

X

"Oh, dear child, what in Merlin's name did you do to this broom?"

Narrowing those always-annoyed blue eyes of hers, Nia Harper huffed at the clerk of Dervish and Banges as he inspected her broken broom; shaking his head in disapproval.

"This ought to have been a vile match, right, darling?" The middle-aged man continued. "Look at the state it's in!"

Harper frowned deeper as I continued to tap my foot impatiently beside her. "I was not playing a brutal match," she practically hissed at the poor man, sounding offended by the thought that she'd been playing Quidditch. "My dense house-mate indirectly sent a curse at it."

I was so very happy that I was not Saar Finnegan that day—or ever, actually. According to the story passed down by Gryffindor to Gryffindor, Finnegan was a lucky git that Lysander Scamander had been there to whisk him away because Harper was hexing to kill.

"And being the bloody menace that he is, he didn't know what curse he used so I couldn't fix it by magic," the blonde girl finished, still seething.

Clearing his throat, his black eyes suddenly wary by the anger on Harper's face, the man said, "well, my darling lad, we might be able to repair it. It will take some time, of course, since it's a very old broom."

And instantly, I started laughing hysterically. "Old broom," I repeated, snorting at the broken twig on the counter.

Snapping her neck so she could face me, Harper sent me her murderous glare. "You think this is amusing, do you, Potter?"

"Potter?" Before I could retort, the old clerk was practically squealing. "A Potter at Dervish and Banges! Merlin's beard! The honor! The—"

"Honestly, Harper," interrupting one of the million Potter fanatics in the world, I snorted at the girl, "you've to admit it is an old broom. It's more than two decades old, actually. They don't even make models like it anymore. No one wants an ancient broom."

Oh, Merlin, I should've stayed quiet—Nia was turning pink in that fantastic face of hers. "My broom is not ancient!" She snarled at me. "Firebolts are classic and dependable!"

I snorted once more. "No, Harper, they're not. They're as worthless and out of style as that Nimbus Two-thousand and One Malfoy inherited from his father."

"He's right, you know?" The clerk added in my favor. "Firebolts were once brilliant brooms, of course, but now they're more of a collection item among long-time Quidditch fans. It's not a proper broom for a young girl." He smiled at her but he was met with that constant frown. "I suggest a Volo, perhaps, lad."

I nodded encouragingly, wiggling my brows. "A Volo is the best broom out there, Harper. Listen to the man. It'll come in better use than your broken Firebolt." I smiled at her too. "Not to mention it will look wicked on your trunk. You can be the most badass girl Hogwarts has seen."

And in that funk that she's been submerging herself all day, and that she refuses to let go of—even as she was in the presence of someone as wicked as me—Harper's face colored in anger. "What's that supposed to mean, Potter?"

I took a step back. I was surely troll waste once she was through with me.

"I don't want that useless broom, alright? I just want my Firebolt mended. I'm not filthy rich, Potter, just if you failed to register while you bask in your daddy's galleons." Thankfully, before she decided to curse me, she turned back to the old wizard. "Mend it, owl me, and you'll receive your pay," and with that she stomped away to the back of the shop.

Clucking his tongue, examining more of that broken broom, the clerk aimed a fast leer at me. "A bit energetic your girlfriend is, Mister Potter."

A grunt escaped from me. "Please," I scoffed, "that demented bint wishes she was my girlfriend. I'm not that mental to jump on that train-wreck." With that being cleared, I followed after my fellow Gryffindor.

Pacing up and down a single aisle, kicking the edges of some shelves, Harper was mumbling to herself. "Sodding Potter…Thinks he's so brilliant," she kicked another shelf. "A Volo, ha!"

"Quit your bickering, will you?" I frowned at her. "This is supposed to be a fabulous date, Harper, not a rambling-fest. You're going to give people the wrong impression of what going out with James Potter really is about."

She returned the scowl. "We're not on a date, Potter. And if that ever was the case, I'd shoot the killing curse at myself. You're insufferable, and definitely not my type."

One would assume that her comment would piss me off, but it really didn't. Sure, she was immensely attractive in that I'm-not-really-a-lady-but-I-have-a-killer-body-so-I'm-not-really-a-bloke way, but I felt exactly the same. James Potter needed a little something more than something to gaze at. "Alright, this isn't a date. That doesn't mean you shouldn't drop the attitude, you know."

Taking a second to inhale, exhale, and control herself, she sighed and gave me a single nod. "Don't mind me, Potter," she mumbled, walking beside me as we exited the shop. "I just have a lot of pent up anger."

I rolled my eyes. "No kidding," I told her as the cold wind brushed by us as we kept on our path; freezing my wand off in the process. "But, anyway, I didn't know you flew, Harper."

She sighed again, but took the bait to lighten the mood. "It's a pastime, actually. It's an escape from my strict father and etiquette-teaching grandmother." She smiled a little from the corner of her mouth as we past the Hogsmeade inhabitants. "The broom was actually my mother's. She gave it to me in hope that I would find a way to unwind and not be mad as often."

"Bless my grandmummy's heart then," I teased. "All she makes me do is help with the garden and feed the chickens."

She rolled her blue eyes. "You live such a hard life."

"Yes, mock me, Harper, but you've no idea how blood-thirsty those chickens are." I laughed, and cheerfully put my arm around her shoulders.

Stiffening at my touch, not saying anything for a moment, she turned her head to look at me with calculating eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When did you start liking Emily?"

Inhaling the cold air as we casually walked, I was now suddenly choking up the oxygen my lungs was throwing back out. "Pardon me?" I asked as I smacked my chest, trying to maneuver the air-flow through me again. "Perhaps I heard you wrong, Harper. Did you just…insinuate I fancy Taylor?"

"No," she replied with a blank look. "I asked when you started liking her. There's a difference."

I removed my arm from her shoulder. "I do not like Emily Taylor, Harper. She's like…She's like a sister."

She scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes at my comment. "Please, Potter. Although I don't tend to act like one, I'm a girl and I'm not blind. I've seen the way you look at her, the way you act when she's around. You change and your eyes light up."

I didn't respond to her, I just continued walking towards the path of snow that would take us back to the castle.

What could I possibly say to that? I wanted to deny it, but it would be like saying that Voldemort had a lovely nose and a wonderful set of hair—all an obvious lie. I knew what happened to me when that American was around and I damned it.

But finally, with a shaky exhale, I said, "I care for her. She did something noble for me, even if she didn't mean to. I don't forget that. It's only right that I stay grateful. And over the years that gratitude has turned into—"

"Into love?"

"No, not love," I retorted. "It's gratitude. Aren't you paying attention?"

Nia shrugged carelessly. "Love's often mistaken with gratitude, Potter," she said to me like she had all the knowledge about this. "During the process of your gratitude, you fell in love with her. Your protectiveness over her ignited, and you started following her like a lost Hippogriff." Without a warning, she laced her arm through mine as we continued to walk. "It explains the constant jealousy you've over Malfoy because you know he fancies her too."

The wind was suddenly colder.

"Don't look that way, Potter, you know it's true. You resent Malfoy because he's her best friend and she lights up when he's around. But, of course, you're instantly confused when she spends hours with you, never mentioning Malfoy once, and then you began wondering if she likes you too."

I frowned, kicking a giant fluff of snow. "For not wanting to be a girl, you sure talk like one, Harper." She snickered, punched my arm, and I sighed in frustration. "…So you think that he likes her?"

She laughed at my turmoil again. "No, James," her voice was low, now, "I don't think he does. But then again…I may be mistaken."

"Why can't you witches just know these things?" I groaned.

"We're not ruddy psychics, Potter. Some boys are just easier to read than others. And Malfoy's the latter. There's no knowing what he's thinking. You, on the other hand, mate, are as easy as Slytherin girls."

I crossed my arms in indignation.

She smirked. "So, you admit, then?"

"Yes, Harper," I snapped, irritated now. "I like Emily Taylor." (Oh, don't act like you didn't know. It's not like you needed tea leaves to see it.)

Her hand squeezed my arm. "I do reckon you're the perfect bloke for her," she looked at me and I smiled like a giddy witch. "You two would be lovely together. And it'll happen, I know it. You just have to give it time."

Not letting a silence take over us—seeing as she owed me—I asked casually, "so, Harper, when did you realize you were in love with Greengrass?"

She tensed beside me, her arm falling away from mine.

I knitted my brows at her. "Oh, come off it, Harper. It's only obvious."

Her face was stricken with an emotion I could not identify. "…He's my best friend," she muttered, something crossing her eyes.

But before I could ask what that meant, a clear, bell-like voice giggled a, "—Nia! James!"

Trying to see through the fog and falling snow, I squinted my eyes as I tried to spot the owner of that dazzling voice. And just as my heart was giving that thump, thump, that it did when I knew I was going to be in her presence, that beating dropped as I saw her approaching—hand clasped tight with that unknown Slytherin.

Her cheeks were flushed pink, making her glow in the snow with warmth, and she had a beautiful smile on her face. She contradicted everything that the ruddy bloke next to her was: a twisted expression of blankness, gold eyes, and lips pressed into a rigid line.

As she got closer, flashing her smile at us, Emily asked, "are you going back to school now?"

Snapping away from her haze, Harper nodded slowly. "Yes. Are you two already parting?"

"I am," Emily nodded. "Lance is going to stay a little longer. He was just walking me to the carriages."

Throwing her blue eyes at the older student, Nia said to him, "there's no need now. We'll keep her company. But, we really best get going. It's getting colder."

Not acknowledging the blonde witch, the Slytherin turned to my Gryffindor. "I'll see you soon, Emily."

My American nodded once, letting his hand go. "Sure. Have fun."

Glancing a leering gaze at me, almost like he knew he was about to destroy me, Lance Greyback leaned into Emily and captured her lips into an illegal kiss.

The Hogsmeade trip was now over.

X

Winter was definitely here with its cold wind, thick snow, and darkening skies overpowering the sun rays in a battle of dominance. It made everything murky, grey and the view outside Gryffindor Tower's window so sad to look at; like we were watching a world be eaten by white and ice.

"This is so depressing," someone sighed next to me, reflecting my mood.

Letting out a grunt, I sunk myself lower into the armchair beside the fireplace.

"We're Third Years, and instead of being off at Hogsmeade, now that we've the opportunity, we're sulking," that same person continued.

With a loud sigh, Roxy propped herself up on her elbows from her lying form on the floor. "We have no lives," she said sadly.

On the armchair across from me, Lucy snorted as she flipped a page of her book. "You're all being a bit pathetic, don't you think?" Her brown eyes peered up at us, looking scolding and firm in that way Uncle Percy's always wearing. "You could've caught a carriage to Hogsmeade, Roxanne—and you were, until you came for a sweater and lost yourself here."

"I was—"

"And you, Hugo," Lucy continued, cutting across Roxy to look at the boy next to me, "your Ravenclaw friends insisted you join them, but then you came here to ask Rose for some extra galleons and ditched your friends."

"I did not—"

"So, all in all, really," there Lucy went again, "you two could've been enjoying yourself, but you saw Lily moping around and you felt too sad to leave her to wallow in her misery."

At that, at the way Lucy's always honest and appointed words lingered in the lonely common room we were in, Roxy and Hugo blushed red and refused to look anywhere but at their feet.

I frowned at them, but quickly shot it at the redheaded across from me. "Why aren't you at Hogsmeade, Luce? I doubt you stayed to cheer me up."

Closing her book, brown eyes narrowed and annoyed, Lucy sat taller in her armchair. "I actually was going to go to Hogsmeade with Dominique, I came in here to look for her and I saw you. So, naturally, I couldn't leave."

Just like that, like a quick snap of fingers or a palm being waved in front of my face, I shook away Lucy's annoyingly scolding manner of being and I remembered why I loved her so. "You three are the best friends in the world," I sighed, digging my back deeper into my seat. "But, honestly, don't mind me. You three should've gone and enjoyed yourselves. I just have a broken heart, I'll be fine."

Lucy rolled her eyes, Roxy gave me a sad, pouted look, and Hugo wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm sure if any of us were in this state, you'd do the same for us," Hugo said all-knowingly, squeezing me a little. "Now, cheer up, cousin. We hate seeing you like that."

I huffed. "I hate seeing myself like this too," I mumbled, "but it is my fault. I should've known a little better."

Roxy continued to pout sadly. "Well, Lily, just because you two haven't talked, it doesn't mean he doesn't want anything to do with you," she said silently. "Maybe he's just thinking a lot of things over, you know. It has to be hard to be in the spot he's in. He doesn't just have Al to worry about, or you, but also Nia. She's his best friend."

"Don't sympathize with him," I snapped, crossing my arms indignantly. "Or that bloody girl, either."

"Merlin forbid that I ever confess this again, but I agree with Roxanne," Lucy spoke up, giving her opinion for the first time for my situation. (One that didn't include the eye-roll, I snort, or a disapproving shake of the head.) "You don't know what he's going through, yet you're dramatizing everything, Lily."

I was taking a second to come up with an intelligent retort, but in that moment the portrait-hole swung open and someone marched into the common room. And like it had to be my luck, that Gryffindor marched deeper into the room and all I saw was a beautiful wave of brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin.

"…Talking about Prince Charming," Hugo muttered in my ear, no doubt a smirk on his stupid face.

Brown eyes taking in the people before him, the Fifth Year suddenly looked overwhelmed. "Erm…hey, you lot," he said awkwardly.

"Greengrass," Hugo greeted cheerfully. "Glad you're here, mate, we were just leaving and we needed someone to take care of Lily. She's been out of order lately, so hopefully you can help with that."

Shooting the most murderous gaze that I could've come up with at my redheaded cousin, I felt immensely betrayed as Lucy and Roxy immediately stood up from their places to go along with whatever our Ravenclaw cousin decided.

"Hugo!" I hissed desperately, my eyes wide as my three cousins headed past the Fifth Year and straight out to the portrait-hole.

And once the hole closed behind them, an uncomfortable tension pierced the air like little needles. (Great.)

Turning away from the path my cousins left in, the Fifth Year turned his brown eyes towards me; looking apologetic and ill-eased as the atmosphere in the lonely common room felt. And because of the way that he looked, like he wanted to be anywhere but there, I felt an anger wake inside of me.

"Lily—" Liam called after me as I stood up from my armchair and turned my heels. "Lily, wait!" He continued, his footsteps right behind me.

Before I can make it four steps up the staircase of the girls' dormitories, I felt his fingers grasp my forearm. "What?" I snapped with my automatic anger, narrowing my eyes at him. In the tiny space that we had, his face was so close to mine, those glittering brown eyes inches from mine, and I wanted to pass out. "What do you want, Liam?" I said in a thick voice.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, those glittering eyes now gleaming with something murky. "I didn't mean to hurt you, honest. I…I don't even know what's going on half of the time. I'm just…Confused doesn't cut it, Lily. I just needed some, erm, time…time to figure things out."

I crossed my arms, taking a step up so I could put some distance between us. "What is there to think about, Liam? I told you I liked you—I kissed you, for Merlin's sake! You should've been able to know right there and then if you liked me too. You're over-thinking everything."

He lowered his head, hiding his eyes from me. "It's not that simple," he whispered again. "Al would have my head…then there's Nia. I…Nia and me…well—"

"Ugh!" I tossed my arms in the air with a grunt. I didn't want to hear any of this, not anymore. I put my heart in the line and all I get is Nia-this and Nia-that; well, to hell with Harper! She wasn't involved with this. It was just me and him; no third-parties!

Turning on him again, I continued to stomp my way up the staircase. His footsteps were right behind me again, and at that very moment I wondered why in Dumbledore's name the slip-and-slide that was put on the stairs to keep all the boys out was not working.

"Lily, please, listen—"

"No. Go away now, Greengrass," I told him with a snort as I kept walking. But as I did, he did too. And since my only hope to escape him so I could cry my eyes out was on the other side of my dormitory door, I opened it quickly.

However, just as I opened it with a giant BANG, something moving caught my attention and the boy's in the back.

"—What the hell?"

"—Lily!"

"—My eyes!" Liam shouted in pure disgust, ignoring the two other voices that boomed out of my dormitory.

Stumbling back a step, my eyes opened wide in repugnance, Liam caught me swiftly as I continued to gape. "Dominique!" I shrieked with a voice that sounded horrified. "What the bloody hell are you—"

Stopping myself, I stumbled some more and Liam held on tighter. There, completely naked and on a boy who was wearing the same thing as her—absolutely nothing—was my cousin, Dominique Weasley. Her green eyes were staring in shock and embarrassment, her long hair covering her exposed chest as she faced our direction.

Turning, I slapped Liam's hands away from me and I put mine over his eyes. (Mad at him or not, I did not want him to see another girl naked!)

And as I was now behind the Fifth Year, making sure his eyes were covered and he couldn't see anything, I got a full glance of where Dominique and that boy were naked on. Instantly, more horror seeped into me. "Dominique," I shouted again, "you're on my bed!"

"Well, I'd say I was sorry, but you weren't supposed to be here!" Dominique threw back at me, sounding like she was the one who was offended.

Moving away from me, Liam tore his face from my hands and grimaced. "Isn't that a Slytherin?" He asked, turning in an angle away from my bed as he pointed a discreet finger at the bloke lying underneath my cousin. "Derrick Rowle, isn't it? I saw you talking once with my cousin Scorpius."

I frowned at him, slapping him on the chest. "Yes, like this is the time to make acquaintances!" But despite my anger, I blinked and caught a view of the muscular boy. I blushed and quickly looked away.

Groaning in embarrassment and annoyance, the boy underneath stirred. "Can't you to beat it for a moment? I'd really like my pants right about now."

"You should've kept your pants on before you came up here to violate a Weasley," Liam snapped at him, crossing his arms and acting offended.

Derrick narrowed his black eyes at us, his face more at view as he sat and continued to balance Dominique on him. "You're one to talk, mate. You're up here about to violate a Potter! That's even worse."

"Lily!" Dominique's eyes widened in mock.

I frowned. "Oh, shut up. We weren't going to do no such thing."

Dominique scoffed and ignored me. "Why are you here with my little cousin, Greengrass? I thought you fancied Nia Harper. I don't think she's going to take it well when she knows you were in here with Lily."

Tensing up for a moment, looking between upset and saddened, Liam was quick to shake it off. "That's none of your business," he snapped in a tone that was very unlike him. "My feelings for Lily are between her and I, and you two should really get out so me and her can talk."

"Fine then," Dominique glared.

Feeling dazed—because had Liam just said he had feelings for me—the Fifth Year grabbed my hand and led me out of the room. I was all swirls and twirls now.

Holy Merlin, what a day.

X

Stretching on my bed as I extended my arms and my legs forward, wrinkling the emerald sheets on the mattress of my four-poster, I yawned loudly and heard it echo. The dormitory that I shared with Zabini and Potter was deadly silent for the first time in the past five years that we shared it, and honestly, it was nice.

But of course, like most great things that come to an end, the door to my dormitory opened. "Honestly, Scorpius," a dainty giggle pierced the room, "isn't there something better than lying about on this day?"

There, leaning on the doorframe of my dormitory door was Slytherin's evilest and prettiest witch. Belinda Rookwood. She aimed a smirk at me, arms crossed over her emerald bathrobe that exposed her neck and collarbone from its loose tie.

Rolling my eyes at her, I sat upright. "I was studying, actually," and though that was the saddest thing out there, I told her the truth. "Some of us do that instead of sneaking up to the Prefects bathroom and hogging up all their hot water."

"You've could've hogged all the hot water with me if you wanted to," she said teasingly, smirking at me. "But honestly, you're lying about because Potter didn't take you on his date, right? Or maybe you're here, all alone, because that Emily Taylor girl has a boyfriend now?"

I frowned at her.

"It explains why you two don't hang around each other. I bet she's finally found someone else to batt those innocent eyes of hers. You're no longer needed, am I right? Sad, sad. Though I admit that Greyback is handsome for his kind, I wouldn't give you up."

Holding my frown I said, "Well, you're particularly nasty today, Belinda. Did my cousin, Daren Greengrass not ask you out to Hogsmeade?"

Instantly, knowing that I hit a spot, Belinda frowned at me. She hated my other Greengrass cousin more than Liam and I did. And it majorly had to do with the fact that he was the person her father had chosen for her to marry when she turned seventeen.

"Don't look so mad," I continued, "at least you'll have me as family when you two do get married."

Her black eyes darkened even more. "How're you holding up, Malfoy? I heard that Rose Weasley had a date with Lysander and it went beautifully. They're back now, did you know? He was gushing about it and holding her hand. It was sickening sweet."

I dropped my glare and mock automatically, my skin feeling like she sent a stinging hex at me. "Weasley can do whatever she wants," I said through a thick tone.

Belinda started snickering. "Don't be so bitter, Scorpius. She is your friend, after all."

Placing my head on the back of my bed-frame, I shrugged. "I guess I've been around you for too long," I said like that explained my attitude change. I had been trying not to think about Rose and Scamander on their date, prancing around Hogsmeade like it was a candy-store while I sat in my dormitory studying for my Potions exam.

"I do grow on people," she nodded in agreement as she kicked the door shut, waved her wand at it, and walked her towards me. "But let's not fight, I know you stayed to be with me," she said, her voice gentle and grateful as her knees sunk into the end of my bed.

I smiled dimly at her. "Yeah, well, that's what friends are for, right? You've had it hard since that lesson with the Boggarts."

Her gentleness was gone now as she leered darkly. "Well, I'm always in need of a friend," and she crawled towards me, her hands instantly tugging the collar of my hooded-sweater. Swiftly and skillfully, which is a little sad at her young age, she spread her legs over mine, sitting on my lap lightly. "And you're just the best one at that, Scorpius."

Not helping myself, I slithered my arms around her waist; feeling the softness of the fabric of her bathrobe. "Why do you do this, Belinda?" I questioned her, closing my eyes as she sunk her teeth into my neck—continuing the game she had begun weeks ago. That one that held no emotional connection, that didn't tie us down, and that gave us a comfort for being alone.

"Don't see why not," she muttered, pulling away before tracing her tongue on the patch of skin she'd bitten. "You're currently smitten with a girl who doesn't want to love you and vise versa. I say, just have some fun."

I sighed, the face of that girl she spoke about flashing before me.

"See?" She laughed, pressing herself more tightly down on my lap. "Don't think about her, or this, even. Just let me be your friend."

"You don't have to be my friend like this, Belinda," I told her, our eyes locking now.

She shrugged, nothing passing her face. "Then take it as a Christmas gift." Her fingers found the tie to her bathrobe, shrugging it off in a second and exposing herself to me now.

I narrowed my eyes. It was impossible not to see how beautiful she was, pale and so inviting. "I care about you, you know?" I told her, tracing my thumbs on the sides of her bare waist; the action caring and gentle.

"I know you do," she said in a low voice as her hands pulled off my shirt. "But you don't love me. I know who you do love, Scorpius. And while she's being a fool and ignoring you, I'll gladly keep you warm for her." Her fingers were now on the top of my black pants, smirking. "Though, it might be for a while since you'll always be just her friend."

I glared at her now, anger rising at the cruelty of her last comment. "How sweet of you."

"I do my best," she laughed before catching my lips with hers; sending jolts of angry lust through my veins.

No, this was not love. This was a game, a continuous game.

Sure, I cared for Belinda in a way that I cared for Nia Harper, perhaps a little lesser, but not in the way I adored Emily Taylor. She was great company, always easy to talk to. We had potential to be great friends if she wasn't all about skin contact and hisses. But for the time being, as selfish and vulgar of me, I continued with the game as I tried not to think about what she said.

I would always be the friend, or lesser to that for that girl that I loved. Because even as I was here, letting Belinda Rookwood kiss and touch me, she was somewhere else with a boy that should've been me.

Rose Weasley was with Lysander Scamander, not thinking of me.