Disclaimer: Just for those who didn't know, I do not own anything but the plot. Yay for JK Rowling! And I have no idea what that line is at the top. Just disregard it.
A week passed. Everyday, I told myself, I'm going to tell him today, I'm going to tell him today. But I didn't, and he kept searching. Todays turned into tomorrows and I didn't tell him.
It was once again a Hogsmeade weekend, and this time my mind was made up. I would tell him. My mask was in my bag, just in case I needed to prove anything.
There he was in the Three Broomsticks, just like I thought he would be. My head told me to run and my heart told my head to shut the hell up.
It was now or never.
"Hey… Scorp?" I said.
"Oh, hey Rose," he greeted me. "I'm sorry we didn't get a lot of time to talk. I guess I've been obsessing about this thing."
"Tell me about it," I muttered. "Can we, uh, go for a walk or something? I need to talk to talk to you."
"Uh, ok," he said. "I need to take my mind off of this girl thing anyway."
"Oh, uh, sure," I agreed. Now probably won't be good, but it's the only way… Great, just great.
We walked to the gate that separated the town from the acre of land that technically was the beginning of the Shrieking Shack's property. People said that it was the shack's property because most people were afraid of it.
"Scorpius, I know who the girl is," I said.
"Really?" he asked. "That's terrific!"
"No, it's not," I protested.
"Why isn't it?" he asked me. "Is there something wrong with her? Does she already have a boyfriend? Please don't tell me that she already has a boyfriend."
"No, she doesn't have a boyfriend," I assured him.
"Then what's wrong?" he asked. I took a deep breath. "Rose, are you ok?" he asked me.
"No, Scorpius, I'm not," I told him.
"Why not?" he asked me.
"Because it's me," I told him.
"What's you?" he asked. "I don't understand."
"It's me," I repeated. "She's me. I'm the girl."
"You're joking, Rose," he smiled. He then looked at my serious face. "You're not joking, Rose."
I shook my head. Tears began to sting my eyes. "I'm afraid not. I'm your Cinderella," I said, taking the mask out of the bag and putting it on my face, "and this is my glass slipper." Immediately, his face grew hard and cold. I took off the mask. "You're angry."
"Of course I am," he said. He sat down on one of the rocks and put his head in his palm. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I was scared. I didn't want to know the truth," I told him. The words came out in the rush.
"But I did," he said. "I thought we were friends."
"I know," I said, beginning to cry. "I'm sorry and-"
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Rose!" He shouted. "I thought that we were supposed to be friends. You lied to me. How can I trust you?"
"You can't," I said. "I know you can't trust me right now."
"Right now?" he asked. "Rose, I don't know if I'll be able to trust you ever again."
"I know," I said. "And I would understand if you didn't wasn't to speak with me ever again, too."
"I don't know about that," he said, "but I sure as hell can't speak to you right now."
And with that, he got up. I sank to my knees and cried.
I wasn't Cinderella.
There was no fairy godmother coming to make things right.
I shouldn't have brought it up.