::DISCLAIMER:: I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with it. I came up with Margie and Lucy in my own head, though.

::AN:: I know it's been forever and a day and-a-half since I last updated, but all I can say is I'm sorry and blame school, not me. Much love.

There's no time for review-responses this time, as it's, like, 3:03 a.m. (passes out at desk) Sorry, though. Next time I'll respond to the reviews, okay? Promise!


Chapter Fifteen

You know, my mom always used to say to me that a respectable woman of noble (pure) blood should obey her husband and stay quiet as much as possible, especially in public.

I so disagree.

I think that if a person has something on their mind, they should just outright say it, no matter what.

Especially if it's funny. Funny thoughts are not to be dwelt on. If you do, then you change the wording or try to make it even funnier. And then it sucks, because if something is genuinely funny, you can't possibly make it "funnier." And you can't add things to it, because then it's like you planned it out, which is lamer than lame, as you will have only successfully "killed" the joke/funny-thing.

So, basically, if you think of something, you should say it. Just let it out there. You can deal with the consequences later. What you can't deal with is sitting around later and thinking of something that you should've or could've said, thus driving yourself mad.

Which is why I openly said to Margie as we were getting dressed/brushing our hair/shuffling around the dorm like a bunch of drunken hags, "There's no panic like the panic you momentarily feel when you've got your hand or head stuck in something."

She paused mid-brush with her hand in the air. "Right… So… Are you hungry? We should really get to breakfast."

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"Where do we sit?" I asked Marge just before we walked through the Great Hall doors.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Colin wanted me to sit with him, so… that's me."

Marge, you TRAITOR!

"Margie!" I hissed as I followed her towards the Gryffindor table. "Who is more important to you, Colin or ME?!"

She rolled her eyes and turned around to face me. "I promised him, okay? What's the big deal? You can sit with us, you know. In fact I'd prefer it, since you always seem to lighten the mood with your random ideas and sayings and whatnot."

"I can't sit there." I said flatly. "Are you daft? Do you not get that I'm angry with those people?"

"So don't be." She shrugged again. "You're the only one who is angry, you know. If you could just get over it, then –"

Get over it? Get over it?! Oh, Margie, I can guarantee that you would be singing a different tune if it were you!

"But, if you were mad at them, I wouldn't abandon you." I said pathetically.

"I'm not abandoning you." She said exasperatedly as we made our way to the side of the table. "Just sit. Eat. Speak occasionally. Who knows? You might like it."

Yeah, right. About as much as I like Harry Potter.

Let's jump back for a moment and rephrase that.

About as much as I like knitting sweaters with my great aunt Harry. I mean Haley. Haley.

"Haley." I said aloud, shaking my head.

"Who?" Margie furrowed her brow as we reached the spot where Colin was sitting with some treacherous people who I won't lower myself to name. You know, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry Potter. Harry. Potter.

Harry Potter.

"Margie, there's something wrong with me." I said suddenly, clutching at the sleeve of her robe.

"What is it?" She asked, concerned (I think). "Are you sick?"

What is it with these people? Am I pale and ghastly? What?

"No." I shook my head. "We've been over this. I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't get sick."

"Well, what is it?"

"I can't stop thinking about –" I paused, becoming aware that there were a few people staring at Margie and I, listening to every word I was saying.

"Can't stop thinking about what?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um… Uh…" I can't tell her. Not while everyone's just watching. Listening. Eavesdropping. Closing in. Swarming me. Smothering me.

"Never mind." I shook my head. "Um. So, eat until you burst, all right? I'll be… away."

Turning on my heel, I walked towards the Hufflepuff table and sat down next to the first familiar face that I saw. "If I tell you something will you promise not to tell anyone in the entire world that I told you?" I asked.

Justin Finch-Fletchley turned and looked at me as though I'd gone insane for a second. But then he shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Sure, why not?"

"I'msorryI'vebeensomeanandhorribletoyoucanyoupleaseforgivemeandmayIhaveabiteofyourmuffin?" I said all in one breath. I hope he understood that. He better have understood that. That was a once in a lifetime thing that I am definitely not repeating.

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

I blinked. "I'm sorry for being –" I stopped when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. "Ow."

"What's wrong?" He asked. When I shrugged and shook my head, rubbing my stomach, he sighed. "You don't look so well. Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

That is IT! I will not tolerate this! I need to be in the presence of someone who won't suddenly tell me how sick/unwell I look!

"Yeah, I might do that. You know, maybe tomorrow. Or, never." I stood up, ignoring Finch-Fletchley's sudden spout of "Hey, where are you going?" and made my way to another part of the Hall. A place that I had never been to.

"Hey Vincent, how ya been?" I said cheerfully as I squeezed in between him and my favorite brother Draco.

Okay, people. Don't get any ideas. He's only my favorite because he's my only. Brother, that is.

What other "only" would I be talking about?

"What are you doing?" Draco asked in a threateningly ominous tone (at least he probably thought it was).

"Sitting here." I shrugged. "Did you know that I've never actually eaten lunch with you since I've been here? I wonder what mom would say to that. She's always telling me to chum up to you. Well, those weren't her exact words but, you know."

"Lucy." Gregory said slowly, as though it was hard for him to get the word out. Even then, I had to pretty much guess at what he was saying.

I figure he's still suffering from the side-effects of all those Crucatius curses his dad used to put on him whenever he'd do something he wasn't supposed to.

I hope he doesn't do that anymore. It's turned poor Greg into a grunting mess.

Pretty soon I'll have to don him Gregory the Grunter.

I grinned. "Of course. Did ya miss me? I missed you guys, you know. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Go. Away." Draco said through clenched teeth.

"Why?" I asked innocently. "I can sit here, too, you know. I haven't spoken to half of these people in I don't know how long! We have a lot of catching up to do."

"You're in Hufflepuff." Vincent said as though it wasn't obvious from my robes.

"All the better." I shrugged, giving him a soft punch on the arm. "Diversity is good for the soul. Or, the heart. Whichever."

"Drakkie-poo, what's the Hufflepuff doing at the Slytherin table?" I heard a most annoying voice ask from the other side of Draco.

Pug… Pansy-pug-face. I can feel my eye twitching now.

"I don't know what she's doing here, Pansy." Draco said boredly as the dog-girl drooled on his neck or ear or something.

I thought he broke up with her! What the hell?!

"So, Vin!" I exclaimed, turning the other way. "How's life treating you? I see you've grown mighty tall. I like tall boys, you know."

Yeah, tall boys. Not necessarily gargantuan boys, but… whatever.

I think I am boy-deprived. Need… sexy boy… now…

I felt a sharp tug as someone grabbed my elbow, only to turn and find Draco standing up next to me, pulling me to my feet. "We'll be right back."

"You, sister dearest," he said through clenched teeth, "are getting on my last nerve." I followed him across the Great Hall, wondering where exactly he was going.

Heh, cool. Draco Malfoy. Walking towards the Gryffindor table.

He's practically pulling my arm out of its socket, but still. I find this a worthy cause.

"You," he said finally, stopping to turn around and shake me by the shoulders, "are already a disgrace to the whole Malfoy name. Stay away from the Slytherins and stay away from Crabbe."

Oh, look. He's playing the annoyingly overprotective brother role! He's so very good at it! Three cheers for Draco! Hip-hip-HOORAY! Hip-hip-HOORAY!

"Gffshtt!" I burst out as my brother shoved me onto a bench and turned around, heading back towards the Slytherin table.

I turned to my left, a sloppy grin plastered on my face. "Well, hello, Marge. Did you just see that? I'm sure I'm not the only one to have witnessed that! Did you catch the –"

She held her hand up, her left eyebrow going with it, "Whoa. Lucy, what in Merlin's name was that all about?"

I swung my legs over the bench and nodded to Colin and Ginny, fully resolved to ignore the other people around me. "I don't know. I guess Draco doesn't like the idea of me having a thing with Vincent."

"Ew." Ginny gasped lowly, an utterly horrified expression on her face. "Merlin's beard, Lucy, have you got bad taste or what…"

Oh, you have no idea.

I mean, what?

I blinked at her. "What? Gads, no, you fool! It was a devious plan to get back at the Almighty Annoying One; you may know him as 'Malfoy.'"

Marge chortled next to me. "I get it… You wanted to see if… Aha!"

I nodded to her. "Now, Marge, love, if you don't mind, I'll think I'll go celebrate my glorious victory with a… I don't know, but I'll think of something."

"No!" Ginny exclaimed. "Sit with us! Come on, you don't look mad anymore."

I turned to Marge, who studied me for a second before she nodded vigorously. "Oh, please, please, please, Lucy. This way you won't say I've abandoned you in you time of need again or –"

"Oh, do shush up." I hissed at her, turning my attention to Ginny. "So, Gin, what's say I forgive you for…"

"Having a big mouth?" She finished for me. "I promise I will never, ever –"

I shrugged. "Do you have a muffin? Or sausage roll, perhaps?"

She wrinkled her brow. "What?"

"Well," I explained. "We should trade something. My forgiveness for your muffin."

"Give it to her," Marge said quickly. "She hasn't eaten in three days."

Ginny quickly tossed me her muffin and I studied it for a moment. "What did you do to it, hmm? I can't possibly eat a contaminated muffin, you know. It could be hazardous to my – Mfrglnfk! Agh!" Unfortunately, Margie shoving the blueberry muffin in my mouth, causing me to choke and gag cut me off.

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"I've never seen anything like it, Colin." I said as smart-sounding as I possibly could. "Never in my worst nightmares have I seen anything so unpleasant, so disturbing, so –"

"It's just a muggle picture." Ginny sighed finally as she leaned back against the tree.

I shook my head sadly and "tsk tsk"ed at the photograph Colin was holding up for us. "That is a most disgusting picture, by the way. You've caught the girl completely off-guard! She looks hideous!"

"That's you." He said flatly.

"That is not me!" I shrieked, lunging forward and making a violent grab for the picture. "How could you, you little twerp?! Look at my hair! It's just here, there, dear Merlin, it's everywhere." I shuddered.

"It's actually very pretty." Hermione assured me as she looked up from her dangerously large textbook. "You're very photogenic."

Yeah, well. You lie.

"Even Harry said it was pretty." Ginny pointed out as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

Harry? Harry who? Certainly not –

"Did he?" Marge questioned, raising her eyebrows and shooting me a look. "Wow, Luce. You should be honored. To have the famous Harry Potter call you pretty."

I'm not honored.

I'm in shock.

"Harry's not like that." Hermione rolled her eyes, not looking up from her book. "He comes off as a little rude sometimes, yeah, but that's not him. He's just a little shut-off to people he's not close to."

Right. Like I haven't heard that before.

"Whatever." Ginny grumbled. "So Colin, do you have the rest of the pictures you took the other day or what?"

Me? Pretty? That's so nice.

"Sure." Colin threw his hand in his bag and rummaged around a bit. "They all turned out fantastic. Especially the photos of Marge."

He thought I was pretty? I don't agree, but still. That's… sweet.

"Oh, you're just saying that 'cause I'm right here." Marge laughed. "I'll bet they're worse than that picture of Lucy."

I frowned.

Way to kill my mood, Marge.

I looked down at the grass and tuned out Margie, Colin, Ginny, and Hermione. Who cares, though? It's not like they really needed me in the conversation.

So, pretty, huh? Maybe he was just commenting on the picture quality. According to Colin, it was "fantastic" picture quality. I heard that Harry was raised by muggles, so he must know all this muggle-camera nonsense as well.

That must be what he was talking about.

I'm most certainly not pretty. Hermione was just being nice. Ginny, too.

I bet now that Harry didn't even say that. They must have some plan to try and get me not to hate him or something like that. That's horrible. I feel manipulated.

"Lucy, are you coming?"

"I think she's going to stay out here for a bit longer."

He does stare at me an awful lot, though. Sometimes I'm sure I must have something on my face, or maybe my hair is sticking up in horrible ways it shouldn't, but other times I'm positive that I look perfectly fine.

It must be my natural "ugliness." He's so repulsed that he can't help but stare. I'm like a jellyfish stranded on a beach shore, being poked at by a cruel young child.

"Lucy?"

It's annoying, really. Sometimes he doesn't even bother to look away when I catch him at it. We'll just sit there and have a stare-fest or what have you. It's unnerving, really.

"Lucy, are you okay?" Marge asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I looked around for a moment, my eyes widening. "It's almost dark." I noted.

Marge laughed. "Yeah. The others just went in for the night. You know Gryffindors, they like to party in their common room around this time. At least that's what I've heard."

Before I could stop myself, I turned on her. "What about Colin? Shouldn't you have followed him?"

"What?" She blinked.

"Colin." I repeated. "Don't act stupid, Marge, I'm not an idiot. It's so obvious, the way you two go sneaking around. You're always –"

"What are you talking about?"

"Marge!" I exclaimed. "I have eyes! I've seen you two! You're always flirting or pretending not to be flirting, I don't know. You could have told me you and him were having a thing, you know! I thought you were my friend."

She furrowed her brow at me. "Yeah? Well, you could have confided in me!"

"About what?!"

"About Harry!" She hissed.

OHMIGOD, SHE KNOWS!

"What are you talking about?" I asked innocently.

"Lucy!" She shrieked. "It's obvious!"

It's obvious?! Oh, I think I'm going to faint. Dear Merlin, how many people know?!

I AM NOT OBVIOUS! I'm alluringly subtle and –

Die, Margie, DIE!

"Listen, Lucy." She said lowly. "You can't be angry at me for not telling you about me and Colin because I don't even know what's going on between he and I, so there."

What? Margie? Colin?

"AHHH!" I screamed. "Oh, I didn't know what I was saying, Margie! I didn't really believe that you two were–! Oh, the visuals! My eyes! My eyes!"

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I'm gonna find him, and I'm going to talk to him and make him explain this stare-age thing he's got going on. I need to explain that it's really beginning to irk me and so he needs to stop before I totally freak out. As it's Saturday, I have all day to find him.

Thankfully, Margie gave me a general direction to where he might be. She "didn't want me to get lost again" apparently.

I'm a bit jittery.

Only a tad, though. Not a lot. Not horribly, anyway. I mean –

Whoops, dropped my wand there.

"It's been awhile since we talked, you know." I heard a girl's voice.

Oh, people. Joy.

"I miss spending time with you." The girl continued, her voice getting louder as I walked down the corridor. "No, really, I do."

Oh, who cares you silly girl? People are trying to walk these halls peacefully in search of The Boy Who Had A Huge Staring Problem, not listen to you go on about spending time with someone. Honestly.

I rounded the corner, coughing loudly, fully prepared to break up any sort of moment I might witness otherwise. I paused when I saw what was a few yards away from me.

A real pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing extraordinarily close to a messy-haired boy with glasses. I tilted my head to the side as the girl turned towards me and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" She asked icily.

I shook my head slowly. "No… I think… I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. Obviously this hall is reserved for your personal… whatevers."

"Get lost, Hufflepuff." She spat.

I glanced at the boy with her, who had suddenly developed his staring issue again. Nodding to the girl, I turned and headed around the corner and up the first set of stairs I saw, desperate to get as far away from the scene as possible.

Who was she? A friend? A girlfriend?

A Ravenclaw by the looks of it, that's for sure.

So he likes smart girls? I can be smart, really.

Oh, face it, Luce, you can't be smart. Not in this lifetime or the next. Maybe in the one after that, though, which is something to look forward to. Sort of.

She's so… pretty. I can't compete with that. And her hair is so long and straight and… nice.

"Oomph." I said as I walked into something, rounding a corner.

"Lucy?" I heard someone laugh.

Oh, no. Just leave me alone. I need to go through my whole thinking process before I do anything rash.

I looked up anyway. "Oh, hi Justin." I quickly looked back down.

OF ALL THE PEOPLE TO BUMP INTO NOW!

"Lucy?" He repeated, tilting my head up. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

Crying? Oh, I assure I am not crying, you daft boy.

He wiped his palm across my cheek and I looked up at him. Okay, so I'm crying, what of it? "Nothing's wrong." I lied. When in reality, everything is wrong. Everything.

"You're lying." He whispered. He sighed then and let go of my face, only to turn and put his arm around my shoulder, steering me down the hall. "Come on, let's go talk somewhere."

Talk? What is there to talk about? I refuse to discuss anything with you, you vermin!

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" He asked when we'd reached a corridor I hadn't seen before.

Tell you what's going on…? Hmm. You drive a hard bargain, goof fellow.

So, I saw the boy I was looking for all close and personal with a really pretty Ravenclaw girl.

Why does that bother me? It's nothing big. It's not like they were kissing or anything. I mean, if that had been doing that, then –

"Lucy?"

He's such a jerk. He could've said something. Even if it was something lame, like out of those impossible muggle films where the male lead exclaims, "It's not what you think!" when it's always what you think.

He didn't have to just stand there.

I hate him.

"Luce?"

I looked up Justin, trying to clear my vision by blinking a bit more. "I don't want to talk about it." I whispered.

I hate him a lot.

"Okay." Justin nodded. "We don't have to talk about it… Do you need anything? Should I go get your friend Margaret?"

A lot, a lot.

"You could kiss me." I told him. "That would make me feel better."