Well I've moved on to Daphne! So... who should I do next?
xxx
Daphne Greengrass liked her little games. After accepting at the humble age of thirteen that she wasn't, and would never be, a good and honest person, she decided to at least use that to her advantage.
Of all the games she knew, playing girlfriend was her favorite. First, there would be a boy. He would catch her affections and she'd catch his in her cruel little ways. Touching, giggling, flirting, until he was wrapped soundly around her pinky finger.
It wasn't that she didn't like them. She really did. For a week, or a month or two, just long enough for them to fall, hard. She'd stop them on their way down of course; kissing, touching, flaunting, until she got bored and let them slip through her pale, manicured fingers. Underneath her bed she had a box full of expensive jewelry, tokens of unrequited affections glittering like shards of their broken hearts.
First it was Theodore Nott, then Vincent Crabbe, Draco Malfoy (he hadn't fallen that hard, but then, he was rather insouciant), Seamus Finnigan, Rodger Davies (he'd cried), Michael Corner, and Terry Boot. It was nothing more than a game, each new boy leaving her with nothing more than a few good stories and a feeling of satisfaction.
Blaise Zabini was different, though she didn't know at the time. It started with a bit of flirting, and then before she knew it, Daphne had a crush. He asked her out the next week.
Wasn't it funny, Pansy quipped two weeks later upon finding Daphne sobbing on her bed, that the heartbreaker fell the hardest?
xxx
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