NOTE - okay. Sorry I'm making Draco so mean, for all of you (*cough* hypothia *cough*) who don't think he should be. I promise he'll come around, but I just don't want to make him all sensitive without a good fight. Wouldn't be in character.

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By Monday, the clouds had returned and Hogwarts was once again cast into a marvelously gloomy winter storm. It was the beginning of December already, yet the snow had not come. . . 'only this delightful misty rain,' thought Alice as she walked silently to breakfast. She'd remained rather withdrawn all weekend, although not disconnected. She had been able to think of nothing but Seamus. Seamus, and what he had said to her a while back, when she had told him that it wasn't like her to run off into the woods with random boys. She was a Malfoy - and she wasn't LIKE that. "Like WHAT?" he had asked. "Like anything other than what your family TELLS you you are?!" His words still burned fresh in her mind. He said it so harshly, and it still hurt, but she knew it was true. She was a slave to her father, as was Draco. But the sad thing about Draco was that he accepted it. . . and he would probably grow up to be just like his dad - an elitist monster who stepped all over other people as long as it meant he'd get his way.

But despite all she had to be worried about, Alice was unusually lighthearted. She'd chosen to walk to the Great Hall alone today, so that she'd be able to enjoy the peaceful solitude - the light rain collecting in her hair, the sound her boots made as they hit wet cobblestone, the delicious gray sky. . . life was good. Seamus would save her from her predetermined fate; she knew he had the will and the dedication. She only doubted herself. . .

She sat down next to Claire (on the other side of whom sat Hypothia, and then Draco. They were holding hands, as Alice would have regarded as normal had she not been in denial of their relationship until then). She was suddenly struck by a sharp jolt of fear, like a spear thrust into her stomach. What if Hypothia chose Draco over her, if the time came to choose sides. What if she lost a friend and a brother all over this. . . this silly Irish boy?

She shook the thought from her head, shocked and appalled that she even had it in her to think such things about Seamus, still a little scared. She glanced over her shoulder at the Gryffindor table. Seamus was laughing about something with Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom. His hair was still that luscious shade of blue, and for some reason this put Alice's troubled soul at ease. She sighed contentedly and turned to her pancakes, pushing them around in the syrup with her fork and taking a few bites. She wasn't all that hungry this morning.

Suddenly a figure sat down to her right. She looked up expecting to see Hypothia or Caire or Seamus or ANYONE but. . . Draco. But there he was, in all his platinum blond glory, smiling at her with twinkling silver eyes. "Haven't seen you all weekend, sis! You haven't been AVOIDING me for some silly reason, have you?"

"I wish you wouldn't call me that" she said angrily, refusing to look at him, still hunched over the table poking around in her pancakes. Her words had sounded like boiling oil thrown in one's face. They seemed unnecessarily harsh even to her, but he deserved them. . . She didn't know how to feel toward him right now. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he was the symbol of everything she wanted to be rid of, all the silly family doctrines that plagued her life - everything that Seamus promised sanctuary from.

"Aww, what's the matter sis?" he asked with feigned, patronizing concern. "You don't still have some of that venom in you from your little 'accident', do you?" he asked, reaching in front of her and poking her sore, bandaged shoulder.

She could take no more. She stood up, boiling over with emotions. As she stood up, her fork crashed to the floor, clattering under the table. "Jesus FUCKING Christ! I cannot take one more fucking MINUTE of your BULLSHIT!" she screamed at him as his disgusting grin widened even further. She wanted to rip it off his face and force him to eat it. . . As she strode briskly toward the doors, the tears began to well up and she became aware of the deafening silence that had spread through the room like chicken pox in a muggle preschool. She felt as if one more second of it would drive her insane. By now Draco was probably being congratulated by his little friends, Crabbe and Goyle for whatever he had hoped to accomplish. She broke into a run, throwing open the heavy doors as if they were plywood, and ran blindly wherever her legs would take her - she didn't care as long as it was somewhere far away. She ran until she could no longer feel her heart beating in her chest, until her legs froze and she collapsed into the wet grass. Looking out across the field sideways from the ground, it was like looking upon a dense tropical forest. She turned her head and stared up at the sky, watching the raindrops fall, not blinking when they hit her eyes, feeling them splash on her face and in her hair, opening her mouth to allow then to nourish her dry throat. Once her heartbeats had slowed and equalized, she stood up slowly, a little dizzy, and straightened herself out. She wiped the tears from her eyes and fanned them with her hands, trying to diminish the red puffiness. 'I probably look like shit,' she thought, running her fingers through her hair.

"Alice!" She heard a voice behind her and turned to see Seamus running in her direction, a few hundred feet away. They met like fire and water, consuming one another and becoming one entity. She threw her arms around his neck as his found their place around her waist. She buried her face in his shoulder; she felt the tears coming again and knew that there was nothing she could do to stop them. She sobbed uncontrollably as he stroked her hair, wishing he could do more - wishing he knew some way to give her endless happiness; she didn't deserve to suffer like this.

Finally her tears dried up as they always did and she did what she could to compose herself, a little embarrassed of him seeing her face. By then, they were sitting on the grass, soaked through their clothes, but that didn't matter because they were together. Seamus watched her preen herself - it was all so unnecessary. She was beautiful no matter what she did. Why all the fuss? He extended her arm and lifted her chin up with his finger, forcing her to look at him.

"I look like shit, huh. . ." she said, pulling away to look down at the ground.

He grabbed her head with both of his hands and kissed her forehead, looked into her eyes and said "You're beautiful", his eye contact unwavering.

A million thoughts clouded her mind. She'd heard that from too many guys to be able to take him seriously - all in efforts to win her over like a carnival prize. But Seamus was different. She KNEW he was. Or was she just becoming weak? Was she giving in like she had with all the others, only to be thrown away like she had been so many times before? No. Seamus WAS different.

"I love you," she whispered, speaking these words for the first time in her life without doubt, without expecting anything in return, without feeling as if she was foolishly exposing herself.

He hugged her passionately, responding, "I love you too, Alice."



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*SEAMUS REFERENCE OF THE DAY: "Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron"

-book 2

*final note: until now Alice has been an exact copy of me (she's supposed to be me, actually), but that whole last part is about problems I WISH I had, although the opinions pretty much match mine.