------------------------I do not on Harry Potter. J.K Rowling beat me to it.

Belinda

There's a rush of goodbyes in the main hall. The annual winter Hogsmeade trip. Slowly, I escape the madness and make my way back up to the Common Room. I don't want to be lectured by Hermione, bombarded by Kyla, or listen to Pansy squeal. No, I'll just go and take a bath. Or a shower.

Slowly, I strip out of my robes and climb into the dormitory showers. The hot water feels good on my skin. People always say that it washes stress away, which is why I intended to take a shower, but all of my stress is still there. In fact, crazy thoughts just run through my head.

Draco could be dead. I don't know where he was summoned, but I'm worried. He told me that "things are beginning to happen" and everyone at Hogwarts knows that this news is much less than good. I have to choose between the people I've known and thought I've trusted for my entire life, or Harry.

And it's strange, because I don't even know if Harry loves me. Sure, we've gotten very close over the past few months. We have a connection that's unexplainable. But it's so complicated, because if he truly loves me, wouldn't he tell me before he leaves? Should I take the hint that he doesn't love me now? Whose side do I take if he leaves without saying he loves me? What if we're just friends? Then whose side do I take?

Hastily, I shut the shower off and climb out, grabbing my lilac towel off of the rack. I don't know why I insist on confusing myself, because it just makes things ultimately worse. A pain in the arse, I tell you, having a father who left me no advice on how to handle the situation he's left me in. After a quick drying-off, I wrap the lilac towel around myself and walk into the girls' dormitories.

Bending over to reach for my pajamas, my sopping wet hair cascades my face and showers water all over my dry pajamas. I HATE when that happens.

"Oh shit…" I hear someone say. I quickly stand up and look to my right.

"Oh Harry, you scared," I laugh, clutching my heart with the hand that isn't holding the towel up. Harry stands there, staring at me for a moment until I realize that I'm standing in a towel. Only. My face goes cherry red in an instant.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, turning away.

"It's okay," I reply quickly. And for some reason, I just wish he keeps looking at me. Like clockwork, he looks at me again.

"Um…" he attempts. And then I do the boldest thing I've ever done.

"We are the only ones here," I say quietly, shifting my legs so that he can see the bareness of my thighs, implying something. For a moment, he just looks into my eyes. I can tell he understands what I'm implying. Then, he walks over to me. His green shirt matches his eyes. He's not wearing his robes. Those jeans look amazing on him.

"It's so wrong," he whispers, his face so close to mine that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. His hand slowly comes up and cups my face.

"I don't care, Harry. They don't matter to me. I don't care what they want," I whisper back. My free hand slides up his broad, Quidditch-toned chest. His lips collide with mine and all reservations I ever had about being in love with him simply vanish. We edge towards my bed. Falling back onto it, I know this is right.

And there's no turning back. Because I'm giving him myself. And he in turn is giving himself to me. It occurs to me that it's all either of us have wanted. Someone stable in our lives that hold our feelings and are there.

Kyla

Walking through Hogsmeade alone is quite dull. I bought Draco a sweater and Belle some candy, along with a few things for myself, but otherwise Hogsmeade doesn't interest me too much. I walk a little bit, surveying the contents in the windows of a few stores. Then, someone grabs my arm and I'm dragged into an alleyway.

"Let me go!" I exclaim, struggling. This person has a strong grasp. I'm scared. I can't turn and see their face. As I'm dragged deeper into the alley, it goes pitch black. The person gets a hold of both of my arms and pins my to a cold, damp wall.

"Kyla, you are no longer safe," a strange, raspy voice whispers. I breathe heavily.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, failing miserably at hiding the fear in my voice.

"Stay away from Draco Malfoy. You're messing up the plan. The plan. You will mind your own business. Belinda is no longer a concern of yours. You will not talk of the War to her. She is to stay away from Harry Potter. Am I understood?"

"Y-Yes…"

"Draco is too busy for you. He shall marry after the War is over. Belinda is now under the Dark Lord's watch. Draco is being instructed to deal with her. You have nothing to do with it. Draco shall not be bothered. He may need to kill her, he may not. You have been warned, Kyla Hornsby. This information gets out to no one. And no one shall hear of it. This conversation never took place."

"This conversation never took place," I reply shakily.

"Very good," is the last thing I hear before I find myself standing on the street like nothing ever happened.