Better Be Slytherin
XXV
Girls Will be Girls

Christmas holidays consisted of practicing Unforgivables with aunt Bellatrix and listening to his mother's crying and whinging about how afraid she was of him being at Hogwarts – needless to say, it had not been a pleasant stay.

A few days after New Year's, school started and they were all going back to the castle. The ministry had set up a temporary connection with the Floo Network to get all students back to school quickly as well as safely. Draco only felt relieved saying goodbye to his clingy, oversensitive mother to get back – he needed some space to think and relax.

He hadn't ever thought he could miss someone so much, more than he missed his parents, even his father who was in Azkaban. And Pansy didn't care. He hadn't smiled in months at all, and she didn't care. She had moved on, her life went on like usual, having fun with her gang of girls, studying in the common room with the boys, sitting next to Theodore Nott.

He heard her shriek with laughter in the corridors, in the common room, by the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. It, along with everything else, drove him mental.

While Draco hadn't smiled in months, she was laughing. He just wanted her to make him laugh one last time. Just one last kiss.

His world had turned even darker without Pansy there to entertain him like usual. But he didn't have time to miss her. And she didn't care. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps he just needed some human contact.

The next morning the spring term began and a large message had been put up during the night about Apparition lessons. Naturally, Draco had begun practising that in the summer several months earlier, with his aunt Bellatrix, still there were loads of more training to do before he could manage it.

The first couple of days back at Hogwarts were strained as ever. Potions lessons were the worst, as the only four Slytherins were supposed to sit together, and those four Slytherins happened to be himself, Zabini, Nott and Pansy. Since Draco for long now had been occupied with his mission and low prioritised his housemates and friends, Pansy had taken over his role as the one in centre, making the jokes. He briefly thought it was as if they had gotten divorced and she had gotten custody of their common friends.

Slughorn was, as usual, impressed and gushing over ruddy Zabini. Draco's own potion looked like cat's vomit and had exploded all over his kettle and robe. Slughorn merely cast him a glance before moving on. Not to mention how Potter received his standard praise. Draco despised potions this year. He was furious when he made his way to lunch.

Pansy gave a scornful chuckle when Draco's lumpy and sticky potion splashed all over the front of his chest, and Draco muttered a cleaning curse on his robe. She did not know why – perhaps to get his attention, and after not having spoken, touched or looked at each other in several months he threw a murderous look at her. In a twisted way, it made her insides tingle – it was better than no look from him at all.

The snow was beginning to melt. After lunch when Pansy accompanied by her girlfriends was making her way out to Herbology, large green spots were sticking up through the melted snow, and she almost slid on the wet grass. Sigh.

She wondered what Draco would think if he knew how much Theodore Nott spoke to her and how much she spoke back, for example over Christmas holidays at those parties at Miles Bletchley's. Or in the evenings in the common room throughout January.

Not that she did for this sole reason but she hoped it would make him furious.

However, she was sure he hadn't even noticed.

He didn't have a clue, and if he did, he probably wouldn't care.

As the snow melted around the school and February arrived, chilly and grey as ever, they were to begin with the Apparition training. The constant rain forced them to hold the lesson inside the Great Hall instead of outside on the grass.

It wasn't the ideal way to spend Saturday morning, in Draco's situation.

The tables had been pushed back to free space, the rain was whipping against the tall windows and the enchanted ceiling whirled gloomily above them as they all gathered by the Heads of Houses – Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout, and a small wizard who was the Ministry's instruction of Apparition.

"What a waste of time..." Draco couldn't help but to mutter bitterly to his company of Crabbe and Goyle.

Goyle murmured in agreement but Crabbe shot him a look.

"Oh, like when me an' Greg stand outside that ruddy room for hours an' hours..."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I would hardly call that a waste of time."

"I would." Crabbe's tone was chilly and hard.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not discussing this, Crabbe. And Goyle doesn't seem to mind."

"Everyone be quiet, please..." came from the background.

Crabbe snorted. "Yeah, fat chance..."

He had never been questioned by them before and it surprised him greatly. "It doesn't matter what you say, Crabbe, you've got to think about the greater good," Draco muttered.

"Dressin' up as girls is hardly 'the greater good', is it," Crabbe grunted furiously.

"You're helping me help the Dark Lord."

"Not enough. I want more involvement."

"Who do you think you are? This is my mission, you'll have your chance, or perhaps you won't... That's not up to me."

Crabbe sent him a warning look. Draco could feel the power balancing between them, from always having been with him, no doubt. Draco returned his stare, as the teachers began silencing the students.

"You're doing your part for the Dark Lord, and I'd advise you to be content with that," he finished curtly. He knew Crabbe had always been the more free-thinking of the two trolls, yet he never thought the day would come when his sidekick would rebel.

"Good morning. My name is Wilkie Twycross and I will be your Apparition instruction for the coming weeks. I am hoping to prepare you for your Apparition test during this time..."

"Remember what I'm doing for you," Crabbe warned in a low, threatening tone.

Draco's upper lip twitched in a failed attempt at hiding his irritation with his friend and he unwillingly raised his voice from the low mutter it had previously been. "Goyle's doing just as much as you and I can't hear him whinging about it!"

"Malfoy, be quiet and listen!" McGonagall suddenly yelled, and everyone turned to look at him. Draco's cheeks turned warm and he felt flustered as he angrily moved away from Crabbe. The witch. He dearly hoped nobody had heard just what he had been talking about.

"... and by then hopefully many of you will be ready to take the test," the instructor went on, as if nothing had happened.

Crabbe's eyes were narrowed when Draco turned back to him. Luckily they were at the far back of the Hall, so that the possibility of students hearing them wasn't as likely as if they were standing in the midst of them.

As the students were directed to stand with distance from everyone else to begin the training, he kept a tight eye on Crabbe. There was a ruckus as everyone moved around and bumped into each other to find their own space. Crabbe was standing half a metre to his left side looking mutinous.

"At least if you could tell me what it it is you're doin', then I might continue on a while longer..." Crabbe mumbled forcefully. "And how much longer we'll have to do it..."

"Enough! I don't know how much longer, all right?" Draco threw at him. The rudeness! "It's taking longer than I expected. And it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe. You and Goyle are just supposed to do what I say and keep watch!"

Suddenly a voice behind him mumbled: "I tell my friends what I'm up to if I want them to keep an eye out."

Draco spun around at once, his hand flying to his robe where he kept his wand, to see Potter's sneering face behind his back. At the same moment the Heads of Houses shouted for silence. And, despite his nervousness that Potter had heard anything, and his irritation for his nemesis' constant nosiness, he had to turn around to face the front of the Hall.

His anger lingered and eventhough Crabbe had resumed muttering to himself and Potter moved away again, it didn't disappear, and came alive again when Millicent Bulstrode tackled him in her unbalance during the Apparition practice (his cheek bounced against her giant breasts and her sturdiness made him bounce right back). Then he could add disgust to his current feelings. And when Pansy, Davis and Greengrass sniggered at him behind his back when he collided with Bulstrode, he became, if possible, more furious.


After being practically attacked by gangs of girls, mostly younger than himself, and bombarded with cards, chocolates and general flirting, Blaise Zabini just wanted to go for a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

Theodore Nott was too occupied with watching Pansy Parkinson giggle with her girlfriends and brag about how many Valentine's Day cards she had received. Theodore had not received any cards, yet Blaise didn't look down on him for it.

Valentine's Day was the most pathetic excuse for a holiday Blaise had ever seen.

"I love Valentine's Day!" Parkinson squealed while her girlfriends giggled in response. Surprisingly enough for Blaise, Pansy didn't seem to be bothered with the wet snow that was melting all over her rabbit fur trimmed black cloak – why would she, her parents could just sort out a new one if she ruined this disgustingly expensive example.

He hurried to the bar to order a tray of Butterbeers as Pansy and her girls joined his and Theodore's table. The pub was warm, indeed comforting as the village outside was almost minus ten degrees. However, because of the cold, the inn was cramped, very loud and smelled strongly of alcohol and warm food.

"I thought these were for all of us," Parkinson whinged loudly when he returned with the tray of Butterbeers.

Blaise smirked and shook his head as he removed each bottle from the tray and divided them between himself and his friend. Theodore gave a small laugh.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Daph, will you go and order, please," she said, not asked, and held out a hand full of galleons towards her best friend, who had no choice but to obey without question.

When Theodore shook his cloak off and some melted snow landed in Pansy's Butterbeer and she shouted at him, Blaise deeply wondered what in Merlin's name his friend saw in her. And Theodore hadn't been the first either – Malfoy had fancied her as well – and Theodore probably wouldn't be the last, which was confirmed evidently an hour later when Pansy was huddled up in Bletchley's lap, and he was fiercely snogging her.

Theodore spilled his Butterbeer all over the front of his robes and Blaise sighed inwardly, realising that he really despised Valentine's Day.


During the next three weeks February passed by and Draco's situation had become feverish. He was almost constantly working on his mission, it was more than it ever had been before now – he was seriously ditching school and he hardly ate or slept, not to mention the fear and stress that had completely grown to consume his entire mind and insides.

He just wanted it all to end.

And whenever he saw Pansy with Theodore Nott in the common room in the evening, the stress multiplied.

The worst was that she laughed at his jokes. That was the worst.

He just wanted this year to end. It all to end.


Gregory did not know what to think, feel or say whenever Vince sulked and complained about Malfoy. If he didn't nod at once and say that he agreed, Vince would glare at him immediately.

Greg hated that glare. The cold, hateful glare that was usually reserved for first-years in the corridors.

He was just trying to please the two most important people around him – Vince and Malfoy.

Malfoy had told them guarding that room meant helping the Dark Lord. And if Malfoy said that, then that must be true.

Yet Vincent told him over and over how pointless it was to keep watch and help Malfoy out.

Gregory didn't know what to make of it, honestly!

"You know he's only usin' us, right?" Vince went on, and on... "We're doin' all this for him, helpin' him out all year long, but when he's finished, d'you really think we'll get to share some of the glory with him?"

Gregory shifted uncomfortably. "I..."

"No," Vince carried on, "that's righ'. He'll get all the glory. The Dark Lord won't even know we've been helpin' him – He won't even know who we are!"

"But," Greogry began unsurely, "he must know – he knows our dads, doesn't he?"

Vince gave an impatient groan, "Of course, but, look – all we're doin' is helpin' Malfoy get everythin' he wants!"

"But why is that wrong?"

"Because! Because what do we get out of it? What's in it for us?"

Gregory had never thought about it like that before. In his opinion, it didn't have to be anything in it for him.

"By helping Draco we're helping the Dark Lord," Gregory said, trying to sound secure. After all, wasn't loyalty something the Dark Lord valued?

"That's just what he tells you..." Vince muttered. "He's gettin' all he wants while we're in the shadows."

But Gregory thought that you had to work hard for a long time until you could become a Death Eater. That was what his dad had told him a long time ago. He didn't feel like there was a point telling his friends this however, or perhaps he didn't dare.

"Do you really think this is what the Dark Lord wants?" Vince questioned, motioning down towards their young girl bodies. Vince pulled on Greg's long blonde hair. "Dressin' up as girls and guarding a sodding room?"

Gregory didn't know how to reply to that, because he didn't know how to explain that perhaps, perhaps Vince had to see the bigger perspective and realise that they were working for the Greater Good, even if their duties were as feeble, pathetic and low-ranked.


"I'm surrounded by idiots!" Draco shouted furiously when Crabbe and Goyle had run down to the kitchens to get sweets from the House Elves instead of meeting him in the corridor at promptly eight o'clock like they had decided beforehand. "I've got to do everything myself in the end!"

Goyle looked sheepish and stuffed the sweets in his pockets, adapting an 'out of sight, out of mind' theory, but Crabbe only yelled back at him. Draco knew he had dark rings the size of galleons under his eyes and he knew he was becoming desperate.

Draco was finally beginning to understand why he had been given this mission. The Dark Lord was to free Azkaban if Draco succeeded with his task – which meant his own father's life were hanging on his every move, it was on his shoulders. He didn't think he had ever felt stress or pressure before, and when he finally had it, it was more than anyone should have to deal with.

He would die, that was his task, to fail and die.

Dumbledore was the greatest wizard to ever wave a wand (next to the Dark Lord, of course), and had defeated dark wizards in his past. For some reason, this seemingly impossible task of finishing him off was delegated to Draco.

He knew he was meant to fail, as punishment for his father. He realised it all now. He had been so wrong in the beginning, thinking this was his chance to finally show himself off.

To make his father proud, the Dark Lord proud.

It had all been a lie – a cruel game. It was never meant for him to succeed.

He was meant to die.


February turned into March without any sort of change in the weather; it kept on raining and was on top of that extremely windy. The weather and the great amount of schoolwork wore out every student in Hogwarts.

On the first of March he woke up at five in the morning.

Early signs of spring had woke him up, or perhaps it was the anxiety. It was the first time in months the dark water of the Black Lake outside the dormitory window had seemed lighter. The early morning sun shone through the water and cast a golden glow over the room. It was a warm light of mild sun, almost glisteningly gold sun.

The light, it was the first light he had seen in months, he now realised. Somehow it strengthened him, and he decided that he was fine with the fact that the Dark Lord had meant for him to die during this.

But that that didn't mean that he accepted it. And from somewhere, an urge to fight was renewed within him, and the light gave him hope.

He would not die. He would defy all odds and finish his task before the school year was up, and he would not die. He would save his family from all of this, he wouldn't give up.

Instantly feeling completely awake he slid out of bed, threw on his robes in silence and made his way out of the quiet and sleepy dormitory, making sure to not wake any of his roommates.

He walked through the dark and desolate castle, feeling almost indecent being awake and wandering around all by himself in the complete silence besides the portraits lining the walls snoring.

He worked alone on his plan in the Come-and-go-Room for a couple of hours until he had what seemed like an epiphany, as if being up at dawn alone cleared his mind. And he sneaked into professor Slughorn's potion cupboard to find something poisonous.

However, when the news hit him the next day, he felt more down than ever. Ron Weasley had gotten poisoned by something he had drunk in Slughorn's office. It was just. his. luck.

It was as if he was cursed – anything he tried, failed. He failed to bring the cursed necklace to Dumbledore too – and instead some bint touched it and that plan had failed as quickly as it had taken form. Just as this one.

By midday he felt sick and nauseous. As he passed one of the abandoned lavatories he knew nobody ever visited, he had to run inside.

"You do know that this is the girls' lavatory!" the portrait outside called to him in a snarky, haughty voice. He swore in mutters as a response and walked past.

Inside he slumped down against one of the cracked basins and crumbled, unable to stop the burning tears pressing from his eyes. He was a total and utter failure.

Just then, a female ghost appeared quickly, surprising him.


He was reading in the chilly common room, in shirt and tie, with his robes around his shoulders, his greyish brown hair falling down over his eyes.

Was he... perhaps... sort of... sweet?

What Pansy enjoyed about Theodore Nott was that she had all of his attention. He was a quiet and careful boy – he did things for her – he really fancied her.

Not like drama queen Draco who were selfish and always talking loudly about his opinions.

She enjoyed how Nott made her feel. And she had accidentally snogged Bletchley on Valentine's Day. Perhaps because she had felt lonely thinking about last year's Valentine's Day when Draco and her were just beginning to be a couple, and now she didn't see him anywhere, as if he'd died. But perhaps she had also kissed Bletchley because it was fun and she was under no obligation towards either Draco or Theodore or anyone else.

When she visited the girls' lavatory with her girlfriends Monday morning, her cheerful mood was squashed like a bug, however.

Daphne scribbled 'Slytherin rules... everyone else drools...' on one of the cracked mirrors with her pink lipstick. Tracey laughed at it, but Pansy laughed the loudest.

"Ohh," Tracey then whined, as Pansy fixed her glittery pink lip-gloss in front of one of the basins, "Caecus hasn't spoken one word to me in days; I don't know what I'm supposed to do..."

"Well, then you shouldn't have been so completely all over him on Valentine's," Daphne laughed. "You practically asked him to marry you." She smirked deliberately. Pansy, Millicent and Queenie laughed loudly.

"I bloody well didn't!" Tracey quickly defended herself.

"Patethic,"Queenie laughed.

"Oh, you're one to talk—" Tracey had raised her voice and pointed an accusing finger on Queenie, but had been interrupted by a squeal more high-pitched than Pansy's own, and suddenly a ghost flew into the open air, closing in on them quickly.

"This is my bathroom!" she screeched with venom in her eyes.

"Relax, Myrtle, we won't take it from you," Daphne sneered and rolled her eyes. Moaning Myrtle gave a sound that sounded like 'hmmph'.

"Oh it's you lot," she spat out, wrinkling her nose, when she saw the green and silver emblems on their robes. "Nasty little girls."

"Yeah, yeah," Daphne mocked, rolling her eyes at the other girls who giggled. "You're one to talk, are you?"

Myrtle looked insulted at once as she hovered above them. "I'm not nasty!"

Pansy gave her lip-gloss to Daphne who fixed herself in front of the mirror and began glossing her lips. "Yeah? Is that why someone killed you?" Tracey teased harshly.

"I'll have you know that I was very well-liked in my years at Hogwarts!"

Pansy enjoyed messing with anyone, almost more than her friends. She smirked. "I'm sure you were, and if you ever need a friend, Tracey here is around."

Millicent and Queenie laughed while Tracey nudged her.

"I have plenty of friends, thank you very much! And I heard you speaking about boys," her eyes narrowed. "No wonder you lot can't keep one."

Tracey looked insulted but Pansy confidently taunted her: "What would you know about boys?" she laughed loudly, accompanied by the other girls, "Those pigtails in your hair make you look about twelve! Not to mention the glasses," Pansy mock-fainted in disgust. Daphne laughed the loudest.

With tears in her eyes, Myrtle quickly cried out to defend herself. "That's not true you evil little girl! Plenty of boys fancy me!"

Pansy laughed cruelly. "Right, maybe fifty years ago!"

"Boys fancy me today! Boys who are at Hogwarts right now! I'll have you know I have a very special bond with a few of them!"

All of the girls beamed in excitement – they all loved a bit of gossip and if she could give them names, they could taunt and mock these boys for years for having a 'special bond' with a pathetic ghost!

"Who?" Tracey shouted excitedly.

"I don't believe it for a second," Daphne teased, struggling to hold back her laughter.

"Well, fine, there are not several of them, but there is one!" Myrtle claimed, soaring above their heads looking satisfied with herself. "But it was supposed to be a secret, nobody could know!"

"Give us a name then!" Pansy laughed along with Daphne and the others. "Go on, we love secrets!"

"He's so sweet," Myrtle bragged, to eye-rolls from Pansy and the rest, "we talk all the time, I think he's in your year, or what do I know, you all look the same age to me... And I think he really likes me... as much as I like him... He's so beautiful..."

"Just tell us!" Pansy giggled.

"...with his blond hair and light eyes... Perhaps you know him," she smiled self-contently, "his name is Draco."

Daphne's, Tracey's, Queenie's and Millicent's laughter died out at the same instant and their faces screwed up into great confusion and surprise. Pansy felt as if the world paused for a second. The girls all snapped to look at her instantly, eyes wide open staring at her. She felt herself freeze, her face completely still, staring up at the smug ghost.

"Shut up, you stupid ghost," Daphne breathed in shock, immediately trying to defend Pansy's honour.

"What?" Myrtle gave them all an angry, surprised glare. "I told you! Like you wanted me to!"

Pansy had never felt so utterly humiliated in her life, as they all stared at her with their mouths hanging open. And then she hurried out of the lavatory, hearing Daphne cry "Shut up you little slag!" at Myrtle before storming after her.

"Get a load of that..." said Tracey breathlessly, as the rest of the girls didn't move an inch.


The following Saturday the first match of the spring term was set. It was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff – which, naturally, in Draco's opinion was Twats versus Twats: nothing he had to see.

The castle was abandoned – everyone was either already at the Quidditch pitch or on their way there. Finally some space to do what he needed! He had convinced Crabbe and Goyle to accompany him to the Come-and-go-Room once more to keep watch and they had already taken their Poly-Juice Potion, meaning he was walking through the empty corridors with what looked like two young girls.

A sudden sound made Draco look up and spot Potter. He quickly came to a halt and then gave a short, mirthless laugh and kept walking, muttering "come on" to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Where are you off to?" Potter asked.

Draco sneered. "Well, as it's your business, I'm definitely going to tell you, Potter... You better hurry; they're probably waiting for The Chosen CaptainThe Boy who Scored – or whatever they call you nowadays."

Goyle tittered slightly. Draco sighed inwardly. Potter stared at Goyle who blushed in his pigtails. Draco realised he couldn't afford Potter to suspect anything more, so he pushed passed him, with Crabbe and Goyle trailing along, and rounded a corner and disappeared out of Potter's sigh.

"I do not appreciate his keeping an eye on me!" Draco hissed when the three of them were alone. "He suspects something! Snape already told me Potter accused me for that student who got cursed in the autumn... Which wasn't me of course... He needs to butt out!"

Crabbe and Goyle merely grunted affirmatively.

The feeling of being watched however, didn't disappear during the next week. He felt strangely watched all through middle of March – once he even thought he saw his old House Elf Dobby when he woke up after dozing off in the common room while trying to catch up on the load of school work he was behind on – but he persuaded himself it was imagination caused by sleep deprivation and the fact that he hadn't seen sunlight (or had any human contact for that matter) in what felt like (and probably in fact were) several months.


Before he could figure out what was going on or assess the situation in any way, before he could feel the scent of sweets and flowers in Pansy's hair or even focus his blurry eyes on her spinning face, their lips met in a wet, sloppy, and drunk, first ever kiss for Theodore.

Her lip-gloss was sticky and chemically sweet, her tongue hot and soft, parting his lips and his insides were on fire.

Then she pulled away unexpectedly, taking her warmth and her sweetness with her, and giggled loudly for everyone to hear.

He only stared at her, while his head was spinning and his vision blurry, he saw two of her, and all of her, and nothing but her.

She looked away, and sipped her drink, while he felt hot and dizzy and confusedly replied Blaise's grin. He was thirsty for more. And instead of kissing her again he reached for his Butterbeer bottle and poured the liquid content down his throat while one and only one thought was on repeat in his mind: 'she kissed me'.

In midst of his drunkenness and lack of sensibility, he couldn't help but to think about it, which she probably didn't at all.

Pansy loved attention – that was clear to anyone with eyes or ears within Hogwarts. Theodore would suppose that one of the reasons she fancied Malfoy was because he, like her, was a leader, although acknowledging that Theodore cringed.

Given that, she could not possibly fancy a quiet loner like himself. Could she?

While she went back to joking and laughing with the others, he sat where she left him and didn't dare to move. Because he had probably fancied her longer than he himself had understood.

He knew she had accepted him as a House-mate last year when he and Malfoy had grown to be, well, friends – but this must be more than that.

He had for a long time thought about her naked, but for equally long time she had been off limits. He had observed her in silence but she had always intrigued him, the way she sauntered around the school looking pleased with herself, smiling sweetly at everyone in Slytherin, and shooting an icy stare to anyone not from her house.


She knew she was pretending like she didn't care about what happened between her and Draco. She wasn't only trying to fool everyone else, but herself as well. When the darkness of the dormitory closed in on her late that night, she couldn't pretend anymore. Swaying drunk, she dizzily grabbed her wand and reached for the night-stands drawer, where she clumsily grabbed a photograph. She fell into bed and cast a spell to shut close the curtains of her four-poster.

The darkness made everything spin even more – there was nothing she could focus her eyes on. The other girls were already snoring in the beds around her.

"Lumos," she muttered and fought to keep her eyes open. The photograph was of Yule Ball, two years ago, of the four of them – she, Draco, Vincent and Gregory – and she did nothing but stare at it. She was in her beloved pink robes with frills, and Draco was next to her in very handsome black robes. He had his arm around her, but only because they took a photograph. Crabbe and Goyle were next to Draco, on his other side. All four were grinning, and Draco whispered something that Pansy remembered to be naughty in her ear and she watched as she hit his arm in the photograph. Then he grabbed her and swayed around with her, joking like friends do. They laughed.

She hadn't kissed Theodore to make Draco jealous, because Draco wasn't even around ever – she did it because she had fun, all the time. A great deal of fun. She had had so much fun that evening, joking and laughing with her housemates, drinking and listening to the WWN, and it had felt right to snog Theodore.

Despite that, it hurt to look at the photograph. She remembered how easy and carefree their lives had been, and how different it was now. She hadn't spoken a word with Draco in months and he was everything but carefree...

Something ached when she dizzily studied the moving photograph. It had been taken before they had been romantically involved in any way – they had only been friends. She wished they could go back to that and start over. They always had fun.

She remembered exactly how he looked and how he smelled and how he sounded when he saw her. "Er... your robes... they're very... pink."

He had probably not meant it as a compliment but she hadn't realised. The memory made her smile, but quickly a lump in her throat appeared, burning, and her stomach ached, because it wasn't like that anymore and perhaps it never would be again.

Her smile disappeared.