A/N: Thanks to Batmarcus for reviewing. It is much appreciated. This also dedicated to said boy because of said review.

Chapter 2

That evening, just as she entered her dormitory after a refreshing shower, an owl swooped through the window beside her bed and landed on her bed. She knew it was Creevey, but she didn't exactly expect him to go through with the letter he'd promised.

Pansy started shrieking about someone spying on them, and Riley felt the need to roll her eyes – if Pansy didn't feel the need to prance around in her skimpy underwear, no one would feel the need to spy on them.

She approached the bird, taking the letter it brought. It ruffled its feathers, leaving a few feathers behind, before streaking through the window again.

"Who sends a letter at this time of night?" Pansy asked, leaning over her shoulder. Honestly, she loved Pansy Parkinson, she was her best friend, but the girl could be nosy.

"Your boyfriend, Pansy, who is attempting to get into my pants." She retorted. Pansy slapped her playfully on the shoulder. Pansy and Theo had been attempting a relationship for the past three weeks, and she sincerely hoped it work out for them. Theo was an okay guy. Not her type, of course, but he was still cute. She couldn't even stop the thought that Creevey was cuter.

"Secret admirer, I assume? Lucky – I don't have any of those." Pansy sang cheerfully, moving to her drawers and pulling out a silk nightdress.

"Pans, sweetie, it's sort of like a stalker with sweet words." She replied as Pansy made for the bathroom door. Pansy spared her a glance and a dramatic hair flip.

"It's romantic, darling, no one writes love letter anymore. You should tell your admirer to have a word with Theo."

"It isn't some stupid romantic notion, Pansy, it's bloody creepy!" She yelled as Pansy closed the bathroom door.

The other girls in the dormitory were staring at her, as if she had grown a second head, which, in hindsight, wasn't all that strange in the wizarding world. Her cousin, Doris, had managed it the previous year.

"What?" She snapped at the girls, looking down her body theatrically, "Am I wearing your underwear or something?"

The girls blushed and looked away. She nodded satisfactorily, muttering something about rude people.

They were probably staring because their year, or rather their dormitory, weren't accustomed to receiving notes at night. Or at all. She was the Slytherin outsider, mostly because she was an artist and ignore the pure blood supremacy and the fact that she was best friends with Pansy Parkinson; Pansy was severely annoying; Millicent wasn't the thinnest or the prettiest and the other two girls weren't very… normal. They acted in perfect synchronisation, finishing one another's sentences, nodding at the same time and copying one another's gestures… they were like a spooky version of the Weasley twins.

She scoffed and opened the letter.

Dear Riley

I'm sorry. I'm not that good with letters, nor am I the best of guys. I fully realise that you're a year older than I am, but this doesn't faze me at all. What does bother me is the stupid no Slytherin/Gryffindor dating rule – not that it's a real rule, but I think we both know that our house mates wouldn't let us forget it.

I'm not afraid of liking you, but I am afraid of being rejected that I said it. I know, I sort of jumped it on you, I could've started with a love poem or a card, but that's just weird, don't you think? So I decided just to walk up to you.

I am in love with you.

Now, because I know I've only technically known you a day, here's a list of why I like you:

You admire my balls

Your personality completely overrates me

You speak to me from your heart, and you speak honestly. You don't beat around the bush. I annoyed you, and you said it.

Your voice – I would love it if you would sing me a lullaby. I bet you're a fantastic singer and you're just hiding it. Not that you can actually show it at Hogwarts – maybe I should write to Dumbledore after this. Do you sing in the shower? Because that shower is very lucky.

Your eyes make me all warm. They warm my heart – you have very soft eyes.

You're fun to talk to, girl, and you know a lot of ball related jokes.

Thus far, my favourite memory is one of spending time with you.

Yours (hopefully)

Colin

She liked the ending. Yours hopefully. It was rather sweet. And the letter, while creepy, di dmanage to melt her heart the tiniest bit. And he numbered it. Gosh, how lame was that?

She decided, for some odd reason, perhaps she rather liked the attention, but she decided to write back. The other girls were still staring at her, but she waved a hand at them annoyed, telling them to be on their merry way. It was strange how Millie and the twins (who weren't even related or looked alike) kept looking at her.

She got out a piece of parchment and her favourite quill. It was green, like her eyes.

Creevey

You barely know what love is, kid, don't claim to be taken by me. Your letter was sweet, but love isn't something that happens overnight. It's a process.

She didn't sign it, because she never signed her letters. It was one of the things she absolutely hated to do. So she just rolled it up and put it on her nightstand to send the following morning, but she did tuck his letter under her pillow for some reason.

. . .

The next morning, she found Pansy reading her short reply. She fumed at that, what was wrong with Pansy? She surged forward, slapped the living daylights out of Pansy and wrestled the letter from her grip.

"What the fuck?" Pansy yelled at her, nursing her bruising eye, "Why did you hit me?"

"Because, Pansy, I'm fucking tired of you going through my private things," She retorted, "If I catch you again I will hurt more than just your eye. This isn't your business!" Her yelling woke up Millie and creepy twosome, who were staring at her in awe. Riley had finally opened up her mouth to Pansy, it seemed, and they were relishing it.

"Of course it is; I'm your best friend!" Pansy whined. She didn't seem too offended by Riley telling her to sod off.

She rolled her eyes. "Does that give you permission to rummage through my things? Pansy, I don't go through your things, do I? How would you feel if I read your diary? Or better, I tell Draco and Theo about your unhealthy obsession with Draco?" She said, collecting her clothes and going to the bathroom to get dressed, ignoring the spluttering reply of her best friend.

Once they were seated at the Slytherin table, and Pansy's black eye was gone, the two girls relaxed into a comfortable silence. They had a strange friendship, no doubt about that, and most thought it was simply a friendship of convenience, but for the two girls it was so much more. They were sisters, and they learned to forgive one another fairly quickly, because it was sort of the only companionship both of them had. Pansy was tolerated in Slytherin, because her parents were somewhat wealthy and she was a pureblood. Riley's parents were a mystery, however.

Riley had already sent the reply to Creevey, and while doing it she promptly ignored her best friend trying to find out what was going on.

. . .

A/N: Riley is such a bitch! What the hell is her problem? Seriously, girl, get over yourself!