Jillian Orlando sunk into the armchair in the Hufflepuff common room. She moaned as she rubbed her left hand, her writing hand. "I cannot believe McGonagall gave us so much writing classwork today!" she exclaimed, staring into the merrily popping flames.
Her close friend, Celeste Bowhing, murmured in agreement. "Yes. You're right. I can't believe it either." She was reclining in an identical armchair near Jillian's, her head tilted against the high back. Her eyes were closed, and thick blonde hair spilled around her shoulders innocently, but Jillian knew better.
Celeste and Jillian had been best friends for years. Ever since their first year at Hogwarts. They were now in their fifth year, and you couldn't find a closer pair. Well, maybe Fred and George Weasley. But when the next year started, and Fred and George wouldn't attend their school anymore, they would be known as the two biggest trouble-makers.
Jillian stared into the flames, flickering and crackling. She couldn't believe that she was already in her fifth year. After that, only two more years to go… and then, the real world. For a fleeting moment, she was terrified and worried. But then her thoughts tuned into what Celeste was saying.
"I wonder who I'll go to the Yule Ball with this year," Celeste pondered outloud. "Are you getting a date?"
Jillian shrugged. "I'm not sure. No one's asked me yet. I'll probably just go. Alone."
Celeste's eyes popped open. "Of course you're going to have a date! You can ask any one of the guys in our house; they'll all say yes."
Jillian raised her eyebrows. "If any of them will say yes, then why haven't they asked me yet?"
Celeste was quiet as she stared into the fire. Her final reply was: "Well, they're obviously scared of you. Of your beauty, your intelligence, your strong loyalty and friendship."
Jillian rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She absently rubbed her wrist, which was still sore. "Maybe I'll just skip it. I mean, it's only a dance, right?"
At this, Celeste sat completely up in her chair, quickly drawing her eyes from the fire. She turned to stare, open-mouthed at Jillian. "Come on, Jill. You have to go. It's like, I don't know… the Prom."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Jillian's mouth. "And what exactly is the Prom?"
Again, Celeste shrugged. "Well, it's this American tradition. At their high schools, there's this huge dance at the end of your last year. It's called the Prom. The second to last year has a dance called Junior Prom. Anyway, it's like this huge ordeal. If you don't go, you'll feel like something's missing for the rest of your life." She paused to smirk. "At least, that's how this cheesy site I stumbled onto described it."
"And how did you stumble onto it?" Jillian asked, charmed by Celeste's wide variety of knowledge and odd cultural tidbits.
"I was looking for a States teen chatroom."
Jillian threw a pillow at Celeste and they both laughed companionably. It felt so comfortable just to be hanging out with each other, talking about really nothing at all.
After five years of friendship, they'd grown to expect wonderful company out of each other. And it always worked out for the best. They were there for each other during the small things, like when the other needed a shoulder to cry on, when one of them had a rough break-up, when they got a bad grade on some meaningless assignment. But also for the more important things: when Jillian hadn't gotten the role she'd wanted so badly in a play, when Celeste's cousin had died. And they always would be. All the things that were important in a friendship and created a bond were there, between the two fifteen year old girls that seemed so different.
Jillian was quiet and introverted, with longish, soft brown hair and quiet, deep brown eyes. She was tall and long-legged, but had a bit of a clumsy aura around her. Her favorite past-times were curling up with a book or a pad of paper and a pencil, exercising, and hanging out with her tight-knit group of friends. Celeste was outgoing and extroverted, with crazy, energetic, bright sea-green eyes and bouncy, thick blonde hair that floated around her shoulders. She was on the shorter side, but as graceful as a cat. She liked to do anything and everything: from trying out a new sport to being the first one to volunteer in class to completing many past dares.
For a second they tossed pillows at each other, stifling their giggles, seeing as how most of the students from the Hufflepuff house had gone up to bed. It was only them and a couple other kids on the far side of the room that were still up. Finally, they calmed down enough to resume their previous discussion.
"Now seriously, Jillian. Who are you going to ask to the Yule Ball?" Celeste demanded, feigning a stern look as she stared pointedly at Jillian.
Jillian couldn't help it: she burst out laughing. "Who am I going to invite? Most likely no one. What about you?"
Celeste got a dreamy look in her eyes and sighed lazily. She'd slipped from her armchair and was resting on the floor, her chin perched on her fists on top of the ottoman at Jillian's feet. "Well… I don't think you'd like it, but…"
"C'mon, you have to tell me. You know you will eventually anyway, you ought to just tell me now," she urged reasonably.
After a moment of silence, Celeste stated proudly, "Ron Weasley."
Jillian's jaw dropped. "Ron Weasley? The red-headed boy who hangs out with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?"
Celeste gave her a belittling look. "We do have classes with the three of them, you know. You don't have to act like they're complete strangers."
Jillian forced her jaw shut. "Well, I'm not. I know they're not strangers—but we don't know them all that well, you have to agree with me."
Celeste rolled her head back. "I know, I know. But whenever I talk to him, it's like, whoa. I really feel some kind of spark, ya know? Besides, it wouldn't hurt to try. He seems like such a fun guy. Easy-going and relaxed. A real safe one."
Jillian thought for a moment. "Well, doesn't he have a thing for Hermione?"
Celeste shook her head, her blonde hair whipping around violently. "No, no. That's just a rumor. She has a thing for him."
"Ah," I replied, biting my tongue harshly. I knew better than to ask her exactly how she knew that, so I had opened my mouth to change the subject completely when she interrupted me.
"Why? You don't like Ron, do you?" she sounded slightly perturbed, and Jillian smirked inwardly. Like there was anything to be worried about. Ron Weasley probably didn't even know her name. He went for more striking girls, with character and flair. Like Celeste.
"No, no, the guy I'm crushing on isn't a Ron. He's a bad boy, sorta the exact opposite," as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she cringed. How could she have let that slip? It was the biggest—and the only—thing she'd ever kept from Celeste, and there was really no reason for her to know.
"A bad boy?" Celeste squeaked, leaning against the ottoman and rocking forward eagerly. "Who, who? Please tell me… 'You know you will eventually anyway, you ought to just tell me now'. C'mon, you can't keep this from me…" she trailed off, her eyes bright, curious, and disturbingly focused.
Jillian shook her head, pretending to zip her lips shut.
"If I guess, will you tell me?" Celeste offered.
Jillian didn't say anything, she just stared stonily at Celeste.
"Umm… Jake O'Reily?" Celeste asked, naming one of the low-grade stoners in their house.
Jillian gave her a disgusted look.
"Okay, okay, I didn't think so. Good. Anyway… um, Buff Parkinson?" she questioned, guessing Pansy Parkinson's younger brother. He was dim-witted and slow, just like his older sister, and again, she was way off the bat.
Jillian shook her head.
Celeste tilted her head to the side, thinking hard. "Let's see… Parker Reid?"
Again, a no.
"Harry Potter?"
Jillian gave her a confused look, spreading her hands as if to say: Explain to me how Harry Potter is a bad boy.
Celeste shrugged. "I don't know, he's always fighting the forces of evil and crap, sneaking out to break school rules, stuff like that. He could be considered a bad boy."
Again, another look, which plainly read: Yeah, considered a bad boy by Hermione Granger and Percy Weasley.
Celeste bit her bottom lip and gave a dejected sigh. "I have no clue. Is it an adult crush? Like, Professor Snape, or something?"
Jillian made a gagging motion and shook her head violently.
"Okay, I know!" Celeste cried passionately. "Voldemort!"
All Jillian could do was stare at her, one eyebrow quirked, unimpressed.
Celeste slumped. "All right, all right, I give up. If I haven't guessed him yet, I probably don't even know him—"
Jillian began to smile, opening her mouth to flaunt her success.
"Draco."
"What?" Jillian spoke, slumping forward. "Him?" She forced a laugh, averting her eyes to the fireplace. "Draco Malfoy? That kid? The Slytherin?"
Celeste gave her a sympathetic grin, perching herself on the ottoman and patting Jillian's hand. "It's okay, Jill. We all go through it once in awhile. You might as well talk about it."
Jillian finally crumpled, dropping her head into her hands. "I can't believe it, Celeste. It's awful. I can't stand him. His manners… his friends… his attitude… it's awful. But, yet, there's some part of me that just won't stop thinking about him."
"I know, I know," Celeste soothed, patting Jillian's hair softly. "You'll grow out of it."
Jillian looked up at Celeste, staring steadily into her friend's eyes. "I don't think I will, Cel. I haven't grown out of it for five years."
Celeste locked eyes with Jillian for a moment, searching for something, before looking away and sighing heavily. She stretched. "Do you want to talk about it more tonight?"
Jillian, still staring at Celeste, shook her head silently.
"Then we'll either talk about it tomorrow, and you can tell me all your feelings about this guy in the past five years, or we'll drop it. But we'll figure that one out in the morning." She stood up, pulling Jillian to her feet.
Jillian smiled shakily at Celeste. "Thanks, Cel. You handled the news surprisingly well."
Celeste shrugged and gave her best friend a tired smile. "I don't think it's sunk in yet."
They laughed softly and started off down the hallway toward their dorm.