A/N: Sorry it's so late. Like I said earlier, I've been sosososoosos busy. Please review/flame/crit!

I spent the next days wondering who the girl Harry was speaking of and why he was speaking of her. My first thoughts were on his best friend, Hermione Granger, but then I realized the Gryffindor girl had her eyes on the latter of my relationships. Ronald Weasley.

As I walked down the halls, I took a glance or two at the girls around me. I began to put them into groups. I knew Harry was something of a heartthrob at Hogwarts, gaining fangirls left and right. What with his thick, dark black hair and green eyes, any girl would feel like a queen to date him solely for his looks.

'Course he didn't believe that. He thought himself nothing special, just like he had the years before Dumbledore had told him what his scar really implied.

On matters of my mission, I suppose killing myself could be an option ro end all this pain and confusion. Harry has told me otherwise, of course, back when I didn't have a justified reason for kicking the bucket.

He knows something is wrong, since I hold band whenever we are talking about serious things. I can't help but wonder what he thinks I'm holding back. It's common curiosity, really, it is. Does he think I'm dating someone else while I'm dating someone him? Does he think I'm cutting myself again?

"Have I done something to upset you, Pansy? Something that you don't want to tell me?"

I must say, I hadn't expected that from him. I know he is one to always take blame, but this. .? I have always said to him, he is much too hard on himself. It his biggest fault. And caring for everyone and every thing, walking hand in hand to his doom. He says he cannot help it, that it's in his nature.

"No, not at all. This is not your fault whatsoever."

I sighed. I hate lying to him. And then, he asks,

"Then what is troubling you, my darling?"

I am about to assert the mother of all lies.I saw Harry talking to Ron today. I heard my name and the word "love." My heart nearly stopped beating. Could that really mean, that he loves me?

He told me not a month ago, that he did, in fact, love me. I just happened to believe that a heated conversation drive someone t say things that they didn't mean.

Harry tells me he does not sleep well anymore. Ghastly dreams that plague his slumbering form.

I sit here, my legs stretched out and crossed, the sea green of my Slytherin badge glistening in the sunlight. Oil in my hair and spit on lips, I think. I think about him, my mission, the mystery girl, and how I am going to weasel my way out of coming to the Death Eater meeting.

I can always say I'm progressing in wooing him, like I did two weeks ago. Although I'm afraid they will not believe it again.

To believe such a thing would take a mighty convincing lie on my part. The Dark Lord knows when someone is lying to him, but I have yet to know why.

I suppose doing so wouldn't be construed as lying. I could make him go a little wild, and not be accused of lying. Hmm. . Not a bad idea.

I decided to carry out my plan on our nightly walk. I would say "I love you" to him, and it might set his mind off. I know it's cruel, but I shall do what I must to keep this relashionship alive. I love this man, and I won't let him slip away like water through open fingers.