Life was very normal at the Flint Estate, exepct for the major hippogriff in the room. You know, the fact that I'm dating Albus Potter.

Sorry, fake dating.

They all know about Potter though, its literally headline news.

My father is sipping his coffee, face hidden slightly behind the Daily Profit.

The headline: "Wizarding royalty set to dazzle at Malfoy Ball".

Two guess who are on the cover?...

Tom and Tate are devouring their breakfasts in unision. Identicale to a T.

They both give me a look before one sniggers at the profit in father's hands. I naturally poke my tongue out.

Mother then waltzes in. Kisses both Tom and Tate on the forehead. She gives my shoulder a soft squeeze before she tusks at dad.

He grunts before winking at her. "I would darling, but I've got to run the stats on Bulgaria".

All three of us cringe, exepct for Mother who flips her professionally styled hair off her shoulders. "Tonight then".

Tom coughs. "Guess I'm spending the night at Tiffany's".

Tiffany Rosier has been Tom's girlfriend since fifth year. She's a Slytherin, not famous and actually very pretty. She has ex-deatheater connections but most do when they're members of the sacred twenty eight. Very hushed but still, grandmother Parkinson has always comended Tom on finding the right kind of girl, one that he's not related to. Something I know makes him very uncomfortable at family renions. Blood status had nothing to do with it as they fell in love naturally. Young love that formed into something stronger. Of course, the press uses it to label Tom Flint as 'the predjudiced heart-throb we all love to hate'.

I wish I was making this stuff up. So you can imagine that Albus Potter is the exact opposite of Tiffany Rosier. And I don't know what to say about it. I feel like I should say something as Potter and I are staring at me from father's paper.

Mother hummed as if she didn't even hear Tom. Eyes on father like he's a god. He looks back at her like she's a goddess. Same ol' family.

Tom then pointed his fork at me casually. "Say Tara? How's your new boyfriend going? You failed to mention anything about him in your letters".

Tate frowned mockingly. "Funny that, I don't remember hearing about him in any of mine either".

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. And I knew I was doomed as soon as both my parents formed the will power to tear their eyes off themselves and on to me. Father foldded the profit in half, Bulgaria forgotten.

I shrugged. "Its...I mean...He's okay".

Father snorted in amusment. "Hope he's better then that Irish kid that only dated you to get my autograph".

I shrugged causally. "Well I'm only dating him to get Harry Potter's".

Father smirked but Mother saw through it. "You never bothered mentioning him at all".

I frowned and pushed a cherry tomato on my plate from side to side. "I was just a bit worried. We're not that serious anyways, we've only just started dating. Didn't want to bring him up unless it was a sure thing".

She tusked in obvious disbelief. "Ah huh".

She then kissed my forheaad. "Well, let us know if it becomes serious".

Tate chuckled. "Oh yeah, if its serious we should invite them all over for dinner. The Potters and Flints. A Bunch of Gryffindo-".

I cut him off with a glare. "He's not a Gryffindor, which you very well know. You played Quidditch with him in school".

Dad perked up slightly. "He plays quidditch?".

Shit. I bit my lip and nodded.

Tom nodded with a frown. "Read in the quarterly he made Captain".

Dad rose an eyebrow. "A Potter is the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team? Over you?". He smiled at me as if he was starting to see something mildly appealing about Potter. "You'll have to introduce me to him then, Tiara".

Tiara was the nickname dad gave me when I was a kid. Tara Tiara. Its a cute name for a five year old and a cringeworthy moment for a sixteen going on seventeen year old.

I opened my mouth to tell him that its never gonna happen before my mum cut in.

She scoffed. "Honestly Marcus!. You can't just hound the boy about quidditch. You're no longer apart of the Slytherin Team. You won't miro-mangage him like you did the boys!".

He winked at me. "I only want my girl to win the cup. Whose to say this Potter kid knows what he's doing?".

Pansy gave him a look, one that had the great Marcus Flint muttering obscerities behind his paper. She then turned to me. "Will he be at the Malfoy's?".

It was a question you ask to prove a point. We all know he will be, he's literally on the cover of the profit right next to me because of it. But I nodded all the same.

She nodded like someone told her she had to walk down diagon alley naked while selling cauldrons. Like she'd rather do anything else but she's determind to do it anyways because someone out there said she couldn't. "Then we'll all go as a family and meet the Potter's. And none of us will discuss quidditch, or him being quidditch captain...I'm looking at you Marcus".

Dad rolled his eyes and saulted her. "We'll charm their assess off darling".

The night of the Malfoy's Christmas Party/Ball had arrived sooner than I'd hoped. I'm dreading it for multiple reasons. For example, I have to give Ginny Potter my answer on her quidditch offer. An answer that I don't even know the answer to. Not to mention she now thinks I'm dating her son, so it's even more complicated. And let's add in Potter is apparently her favourite child. Or the fact that my mother actually wants to meet the Potters to show them we're not scary death eaters. Urgh! I'm a wreck.

Also I'll be seeing Potter for the first time in two weeks. I bit my lip as I assessed myself in the mirror. I'm in a lavender dress. Silky and pretty. Some designer Mum picked out that I've already forgotten the name of. I turned to my trunk, the contents nothing but an absolute mess. I could faintly see a piece of forest green fabric in that large pile of shit. Apart of me was tempted to pull it out and wear it again because he called me beautiful in it.

Idiot!. I shook my head in disgust. I need to get over it. It was a fake moment in an otherwise fake relationship. Besides I'd be an outfit repeater, mother would never let me live it down.

I nodded at myself in the mirror.

"Hello Harry Potter, I'm Tara Flint. The girl that hates your son and wants to see him burn. But don't worry, I'm not a death eater. My mother is probbably going to tell you that ten times in the next ten minutes. Did I mention I hate your son?".

I slumped in annoyance. I'm a disaster. I mean, this is Harry Potter.

I'm about to meet Harry- FREAKING- Potter!. Actually its whatever. Just the biggest celebrity known to man. With a family so famous they rival mine. In and out. They're just people. People and one devil child. That's it. And I've met Ginny and survived. And Liliy Potter too. Really its just a stupid devil wannabe and a literal savior of the planet that I haven't met. And if I just stare at Potter's stupid face then I won't be nervous at al-

"Tara let's go your going to make us all late!",

"Yeah Tara, if I didn't known any better I'd say your stalling"

I glared at my reflection. "Shut up! I'm already half way down the stairs!".

Deep breath. I got this.

I don't got this.

I looked at my family while biting my lip in trepidation. Mother held her sixth glass of champagne while giggling with Blaise Zambini and Vincent Crabbe.

Father stood off at a different table, mother definetly not in his sights. He's talking to Sam Leeds, current coach of the Bulgarian team. What Sam is doing at the Malfoy's I'll never know.

Tom is in a corner whispering heatedly to Tiffany.

Tate leant casually against the drinks table. Two ladies giggling at his every word. I could tell by their heart eyes that they're obviously fan-girls.

I happen to be slumped against the furtherest wall, Suzie leant against me with our shoulders touching. The both of us nursing butterbeers. I sighed. "I want to leave".

She looked down at her nearly empty butterbear. "Same. You'd think Scorpius would show up to his own bloody party".

I nodded. "Do you think Amelia ditched? I haven't seen her yet".

She shrugged. "Blazie came alone".

I made an 'oh' expression and Suize nodded with her eyebrows raised.

The Potter's haven't arrived yet. Scorpius hasn't shown yet but when I arrived Draco said 'he'd be down in a bit'. That was over an hour ago!. Draco was still greeting everyone. Despite this ball room being full-ish I could tell there was some kind of charm that kept increasing the square inch of it with every new entry. The place looked amazing. The white marble room with the evergreen trees and silver decorations is spectacular. Proper uniformed wait staff wearing the Malfoy's family crest is probably overboard but you have to hand it to Draco Malfoy, he knows how to throw a party.

Also I could feel eyes on me despite my dark hiding corner. Hushed whispers between guests seemed to spread as soon I was spotted. Hell, as soon as I entered the room with my family everyone stopped and stared at us. That is, until mother waved at Zambini with a "Blasie darling, how long has it been?". And everything went back to normal.

Suzie hummed. "How long do you think until the Potter's get here?".

I blinked in fake casualty. "Oh who knows. I'm sure they probably forgot all about it".

She giggled. "Forgot? I think you've forgotten that the Potter's have apparently been coming to this thing for years".

I shuddered. It was at that moment the Potter's arrived. Ginny looked beautiful. Hair in a messy updo along with an elegant silk green dress. It highlighted her hair in the best way. Harry Potter wore dress robes and he looks the same in his auor watch picture that they take at the ministery. I looked him up on Wiznet earlier today. You know, for research. James Potter is handsome in that werid overcompensating Gryffindor kind of way. But the brown eyes just don't hit like those dangerous green ones do. He stood next to James.Black suit and no tie. Hair messy and face gorgeously brooding and unreachable. As if begging to be brought to life by my cruel insults. Oh and I suppose Liliy Potter was there too.

I instantly leant futher back into the shadows. Even hissing at Suzie to do the same before she gets us caught. I watched Potter's bored stare drift across the room. He instantly spotted mother. Face ever unreadable before finding father who was even more surrounded by quidditch people. He tore his eyes from father and they squinted slightly at Tom and Tiffany before he literally rolled his eyes at Tate and his groupies.

How lovely.

I jolted as my back hit the wall. And cursed rather loudly as Suzie toppled a vase in her attempt to do the same. Those geen eyes had found their mark instantly at the sound of the crash.

I gulped. He looks amazing. Dazzling and... damit pull it together, Flint!.

I turned to Suzie only to find Tate helping her, having charmed her hand with a healing charm to stop the blood. "There, Suzie Cutie. All fixed". He winked at her and ruffled her hair before giving me a look as if to say, help your friend. Before running back over to his fangirls.

Suzie giggled stupidly to herself. "He's so great".

I shook my head. "He uses girls for sex and then breaks their hearts".

She sighed longinly at the drinks table. "I don't beileve that".

I tusked. "He's never given a hint that he likes you. You can do better".

She shrugged. "That's because he's over eighteen so it'd be inapropriate to date me. But I know he likes me".

I stared at the ceiling in frustation. "Tate only likes one thing. Quidditch".

She waved me off. "No, that's just a Flint thing."

No point in arguing, its a loss cause. I turned back to the front of the room only to find the Potters no longer there. Double shi-

"Hello Flint, Suzie".

I blinked and peered round Suzie to find Potter casually leaning against the wall. "I saw what happened with the vase, are you alright?".

Suzie beamed at the devil. "Oh sure, Tate helped me out".

Potter nodded but there was something near to mocking on his expression. "How nice of him. I'm suprised Tara didn't help you".

There's that word again. I tried to contain my eye twitch at hearing the word 'nice' coming out of his mouth. "Yes my family are full of nice non-death eaters". Suzie stiffened at the term and I cringed, her father still carried a faded dark mark on his arm. "My mother is surely going to tell your family that multiple times tonight".

He smirked. "What fun that'll be".

I sighed and slumped back onto the wall. Potter now blocked from view beside Crabbe. "Never picked you as the wall flower type".

A beat of silence. "I'm not, but Scorpius isn't down here and Rose hasn't arrived. I don't want to make small talk as Harry Potter's son. Besides I want to be here with you".

Suzie smiled. "Awww you guys are cute".

I screwed up my nose. Nothing about Potter and I are cute.

Suzie looked down at her broken bottle of butter-beer on the floor and shrugged. "I'm going to get another, don't leave this spot. If you disappear and I have to spend the rest of the night alone you'll wish for death Tara!".

I nodded.

And then there were two.

I watched Potter slide closer to me until his arm rested against mine. "You weren't trying to hide from me were you?".

I scoffed. "Me? Hide?. Please."

He hummed. "Good".

I felt his thumb brush my hand. I took in a sharp breath before letting it go. "I'm so nervous".

He nodded. "I know. Its why you've bearly looked at me since I arrived. James said you were blowing me off".

I smirked. "Albus Potter cares about what an idiotic Gryffindor says?".

He smirked now. "Cause not, I knew you'd be hiding before I came. And if you came after my family arrived you'd cling to yours until you absoutley had to leave their side".

I swallowed. "My family saw the article in the profit".

He nodded, unbothered. "Hence the hiding".

I'm not even mad he knows me well enough to know how I'd behave in certain situations. "Did yours see it?".

He nodded. "Yeah, but they've known I've been dating you since the Witch Weekly article".

That's slightly better. I bit my lip. "Fake dating".

Potter clicked his tongue. "Of course. We're totally fake".

I turned to him, his eyes piercing into my own. Green eyes so full of an emotion close to love telling me that this is anything but fake. Contrasted with that smirk on his face screaming fake. Screaming I'm going to kill you slowly and dance on your grave. I don't know who to believe...

His eyes or his smirk.