Lorri was breathing quickly, though the crimson patches marking delighted exhaustion were present on her cheeks. Having successfully delivered all of the five hundred Valentines Day flyers she had spent the entire morning creating and then charming, the mountain of papers she had been supporting all day was now gone. Its absence had revealed Lorri's faintly scarlet yet welcoming face; she sported a continuous grin set upon well-rounded cheeks and almond-shaped, chestnut hued eyed. Her cheerful demeanour was reflected through her habit of seldom denying anybody she encountered with a broad and toothy beam. She appeared as though she were perpetually smiling to herself, perhaps imagining something trivial that had happened last week. Her hair, auburn, was now laying in thick (though somewhat knotted) tendrils around her face, the low-slung ponytail she usually wore had been defeated when he she had clumsily plunged herself through the ancient dungeon door and into Potions. She was yet to repair the frayed slit in her robes which was a result of her tumble, though a tiny bead of blood was escaping the graze on her knee and staining them, she didn't care. Her thoughts were focussed on Valentines Day, the party she had been furiously working towards for over three months. She was anxious to return to the Gryffindor common room, she was desperate to siphon the ideas she had from within her mind onto a fresh sheet of parchment.

'I can't use mistletoe on Valentines Day, can I? Oh dear…' She was muttering to herself. She scratched her forehead quizzically and slowed her pace through the bare corridor in order to recollect her thoughts. While her fractionally shabby appearance and overly optimistic, energetic air forced her to be perceived as ditzy by many of her fellow students, it was undeniable that Lorri had passion. Her undying faith and hope in all things romantic, loving and even lame and cheesy was the driving force behind all of her schemes and even the majority of her actions in everyday schooling life. The quarrel she had earlier shared with Professor Snape was a result of this passion; Lorri could not bear to hear anybody speaking ill of the things she held so true. It was also because of this passion that Lorri had been appointed (much to the confusion of other students) as a Prefect at the beginning of the year. Her appearance argued otherwise, but Lorri's frequent presence of happiness made her a very good and very determined Prefect.

'Um… Um…' She was still rotating ideas over and over within her mind as she bit her lip and continued to wander in the direction of Gryffindor tower. She was midway through analysing the notion of real, though mild, love potions being available at the party's dinner (she hastily dismissed this idea as she fell upon the thought of mass drink spiking, something she herself would greatly approve of, though the teachers might have had a slightly different opinion) when she heard quickened steps behind her. Lorri remained in deep thought, uttering to herself and strolling lazily past a suit of armour, and her Valentines Day trance seemed to render her temporarily deaf.

'Lorri? Hey, Lorri!' When Lorri shook herself alert, it seemed that the voice had been calling to her for some time. She swiftly turned and saw Ben Vinely, a Gryffindor in her own year and a friend of Lorri's rushing towards her, though he looked somewhat odd, as his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

'Benjamin?' Lorri looked him up and down as he slowed to a halt before her. He seemed breathless, as though he had been running for a long time.

'Hi, Lorri.' Despite his apparent rush to meet her, Ben was merely standing in front of Lorri now. She gazed at him expectantly, and he must have become aware of her bewilderment, because his eyes widened suddenly and he reached furiously into the interior of his robes. It was at several long moments before his hand emerged, clutching one of Lorri's flyers, its previously shrill verse had mutated into a deep, slow chant. Ben was grinning crookedly, though he still didn't speak. During the silence, Lorri absentmindedly noticed that he needed a haircut. His coffee coloured hair was comically windswept and long enough to require him to frequently brush it out of his eyes. He was very tall, towering at least a foot over Lorri, and was looking down at her through pale jade eyes.

'Benjamin? Are you alright?' She was giving him her customary grin, encouraging him to speak to her, to tell her why he had been running and why he had interrupted her determined attempts at mental preparation for the Valentines Day party. Ben was now exchanging his glance between Lorri and the flyer he clutched. The only sound evident was that of the flyer's deep hymn. Eventually, Ben coughed and made to speak.

'Uh… This is you, isn't it, Lorri? I mean… You're organising this?' He was brandishing the flyer before Lorri's face. Immediately, her beam spread and her eyes brightened.

'Oh yes! It's me… And the other prefects, of course. Why, are you interested in helping out?'

'Ah no, it's not that… I was just wondering.' He then thrust his hand back into his pocket, muffling the flyer's song and renewing the silence. He stood before the perplexed Lorri for another moment before furthering her confusion and taking a small yet troubled step forwards, leaning in towards her.

'Lorri… Do you… remember first year?' His eyes were piercing and focussed, and he spoke strangely slow. Lorri was, despite her puzzlement, still smiling.

'Yes, I do. Why's that, Benjamin?' Upon her answer, he looked down at his shoes.

'Oh, just wondering… Again. You know, you and I were good friends in first year…'

Lorri giggled. 'Well, first year was a long time ago, Benjamin! And our mothers were very close, what with both of them being Healers at St Mungo's! How is your mother anyway, Benjamin? I haven't seen Marion in a very long –'

'Ah, yeah… She's good, but…' Ben shuffled on the spot. It was apparent that he did not wish to discuss his mother at the moment, 'there's something I'd like to know, Lorri… About the party… That is, if I decided to go… Would you be busy during the actual night, you know… during the party? Being hostess or something?'

Lorri paused, her head titled slightly to the left, then grinned and smiled in understanding. She laughed and poked Ben gently on the shoulder. 'Ohh, I see Benjamin, you do want to help! Well, you don't have to worry, you can still assist with the preparations for the party during the earlier part of the evening, and then have plenty of time to have fun with your friends! I'm positive that you'd even have plenty of time to spend with your partner too! I was actually pondering the same problem myself, but I certainly wouldn't deny anybody the privilege of the actual festivities. I'm happy you asked and - oh, I'm so glad you want to help, Benjamin!'

Ben's face was completely inexpressive, and his mouth was slightly open. He seemed to be attempting to comprehend what Lorri had just said to him, and after several mutterings of 'but… help?', he had appeared to regain his composure and was endeavouring to engage Lorri in conversation once more. She was bouncing up and down on the spot, clapping and delighted in her own oblivion, as he began to whisper.

'Lorri, I don't think you –'

But his effort was found to be in vain, because at that moment a third voice had echoed throughout the corridor and penetrated Ben and Lorri's privacy.

'Lorrien!'

Within moments, the origin of the new voice was determined, as Dean Thomas materialised from beyond the suit of armour and stood before the pair. His expression transformed into one of utmost pleasure upon his discovery of Lorri. Ben merely looked stunned.

'Hello Dean, are you here to ask if you can help with the party too?' Lorri's grin was broader than ever, and she remained to be bouncing on the spot, vibrantly gleeful. But Dean didn't respond, he simply stepped forward and gently took Lorri's hand in his. He smiled at her, and then began to speak in a low, quiet voice as Ben observed, a flicker of frustration dancing upon his face.

'Lorrien, there's something I need to ask you.' Dean uttered, staring into his fellow Gryffindor's large, yet unsurprised eyes. Lorri had ceased bouncing, and was watching Dean absorbedly.

'I had a feeling you would ask me soon.' She answered in an equally low voice, though Ben's close proximity allowed their secretive interaction to be entirely audible. Dean's smiled widened.

'So you will… You'll come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?' He was peering at Lorri eagerly. Ben had straightened up hastily, listening intently, though Lorri appeared to have taken no notice of him at all.

'Of course I will…' she whispered the words as though she had been waiting for the question a number of years. Dean's eyes ignited, and he gifted Lorri with a contented smile before releasing her hand and informing her that they would speak of the details later. He had done so much as turned his back and was sauntering his way back past the suit of armour and along the corridor before Lorri shifted her body and attempted to concentrate her attentions upon Ben once more. However, once she turned, she found the spot where he had previously stood bare. She bit her lip and furrowed her brow in bewilderment before she perceived his tall, shadowed figure hurriedly taking the staircase below, hands pushed staunchly in his pockets, evaporating into the distance.