. Hey! This is a little note from Loz thanking EVERYONE for reviewing! I am sorry this chapter has been a long time coming, but here it is! I'd also like to spend a second and say MERRY CHRISTMAS to all, and this is going to be my little present to you! I am very excited, aren't you? Anyway, I won't keep you any longer... enjoy!

-

Lavender was stone drunk, and didn't she know it! There she stood in her gauzy, green dress, swaying precariously on her four-inch heels. Rejected twice in one evening was hardly something a woman of her assets should have to bear! No, not at all. Never in her life had she been the one to play second fiddle… never… Lavender felt the bile in her throat congealing with fury and with a vicious swallow, contained her annoyance. Here, at one of the most important balls of Hogwarts history, she stood pathetically on the fringes of the dance floor, all alone. It wasn't fair; she should be the one undulating suggestively against that frenzied pack of guys… she was sexy… she was hot… but in the eyes of her 'boyfriend' evidently not. She had already proved her worth once before, snatching her present lover from the grasp of that boorish bookworm, Hermione Granger. Lavender snarled, moving to the outer recesses of the ballroom only to stand in the shadows. It still irked her that despite her fantastic steal, Hermione had been the one to come out on top. Again. That stupid bitch at this very moment lay curled in the protective arms of Draco Malfoy… while Lavender was stuck in the deepest cesspit of hell with Hermione's reject ex-boyfriend. Lavender dismissed that weird feeling of jealousy bubbling within her… Screw Draco and Hermione…they'll never last…

Lavender pulled the neckline of her dress down a few more inches to reveal her impressive cleavage, the tops of her nipples peeking from the diaphanous material just barely containing her bust. She was going to win back her man, or die trying. Pushing her way through the throng, she soon found herself wedged between several couples. The 'old' Lavender… that shy little flower… would have screeched at the random guy grabbing at her flesh and thumbing her areola, but those days had ended. She moaned in pleasure, but knew that she must find Ron. So as she reluctantly pulled away, it was pure luck that she rapidly found herself face to face with her quarry. His wild red hair was standing up on end, as if mussed by someone's fingers… someone that was certainly not her. He didn't even appear to notice who she was, his eyes dulled by liquor. However this didn't deter her. Lavender moved herself flush up against Ron, her lips locked on the pulse at his neck, she restlessly let her hand wander down to the fly of his jeans. Lavender's eyes shot wide open in wonder as her fingers encountered a full hard on. He'd obviously been having even more fun than she thought. With a familiar tingle, she expertly swept her nimble hand beneath the waistline of his pants, brushing the head of his already rigid member. Lavender still recalled the term prior when this very action nearly brought the poor, innocent boy – as he had been then- to his knees.

Ron moaned with ecstasy and pushed himself against her palm. "Ohh… yeah…."

Plainly it still did. Lavender smiled and continued her caresses… He is mine… I've got him in the palm of my hand… Lavender laughed softly… Literally!

Lavender could feel the scent of his arousal stealing her senses. "Ron…"

Ron's face was growing flushed as he twitched on the brink. His loose hands coming to clumsily pull at her breasts. He had never really been a skilled lover… in fact, the more Lavender thought about it, more of his attraction had come from taking him from Hermione. Lavender shrugged to herself, and pushed the thought away. Fucking a Weasley was exciting… she'd made him so bad… and that was something she found irresistible. A creature of her own creation… it made her so hot she could hardly think. She sighed, "Ron… you are so…" her hand pumping faster and faster.

His breath seemed to be almost non existent, as he groaned 'Fuck me, Parv… this is so kinky…'

Lavender heard the words in the furthest reach of her mind, but it dampened her ardour like a doused candle. With lightning speed, she screeched 'WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!'

Suddenly she was harshly pulled away, brisk air rushing against her front, leaving her so very cold. It was in seconds that she was looking into the cold eyes of Parvarti Patil, surprisingly dressed in a very revealing blue … well… dress…. If it could honestly be called a dress, it looked more like a slightly enlarged handkerchief, only just covering the essentials. Amazing… that prudish Parvarti had become very… bad… It was odd how people could so easily change…not that Lavender had much right to talk.

Parvarti pulled her close, whispering in her ear. "He's mine, so fuck off. Nobody touches him but me." And with a risqué smile on her face, she moved over to Ron, her hand boldly replacing where Lavender's own had just been. "Oh, I see that you were admiring my handiwork… well don't you worry, I'll finish up where you left off."

Lavender had never really felt emotion quite like this before, but all she knew was, she was seeing red.

Lots of it.

It was in the blink of an eye that Lavender was stalking off the dance floor, Parvarti Patil's mocking laughter dogging her every step, echoed further by Ron's moans of pleasure.

Her mind was fogged with anger… She would get her revenge… in fact; she knew just how to get it. It was not a long search before her eyes sought out the form she required.

The Great Harry Potter's broad shoulders could be spied in one of the alcoves and the poor combination of the amazing amount of alcohol in her blood and her eagerness to thwart Ron, did not at all allow her mind to register the other figure that stood beside him. That petite shape swathed in crimson went unnoticed, as Lavender marched towards Harry. Her unrelenting determination jostled a few people causing them to mutter distastefully about her. But it didn't matter anymore what they thought of her. Nothing did, except avenging herself after that shocking humiliation.

She licked her lips in anticipation.

She was going to get Ronald Weasley… even if it meant using his best friend to do so.

-

Sylphide could feel her poor heart beating a mile a minute, this was so stupid… but yet… she could not control the flurry of emotion that was pounding at her breast. The crisp hair at Harry's nape curled around her fingertips, as under her feather light touch, she felt a slight shiver snake its way down his spine, and she marvelled at the effect that her kiss could have on this seemingly steadfast boy. He had always appeared so impervious to anything and everything… and Sylphide enjoyed her scant moment of feminine power. Never before had any male made her feel so… well… special… His hands were delicately wrapped around her waist, treating her like a precious china doll, but at the same time frustrating her with his lack of contact. With a firm resolution in mind, Sylphide eagerly swayed herself closer in his embrace.

She could feel a growl emerge from within his throat, "Oh god.." he murmured, before gently moving once again over her soft lips.

Mentally she gave herself a satisfied pat on the back, as his arms unconsciously hugged her intimately into the curve of his arms. However this only succeeded to befuddle her already muggy brain, for in the furthest recess of her mind she only just recognised the surge of desire that radiated throughout her body.

Sylphide refused to acknowledge the hunger that began in the pit of her belly, because yearning only led to somewhere her heart did not wish to go… love was not a pain that she was willing to go through again… Sharp pangs of heat spiralled down to her core, her eyes dilating with sensual delight… it should have been so wrong… but it wasn't. The disturbing fact was that it was quite the opposite.

As the kiss broke, Sylphide slowly let her eyelids flutter open. With gentle fingers, she reverently grazed the soft flesh of his lips… It was amazing how hard they looked from afar, and how unimaginably pliable they were in reality. However this then led to the inevitable thought of how many other girls would now have envied her position… Though this only worked to release the green eyed monster of jealousy within... despite it being completely unfounded. It was then that she suddenly realised he wore no glasses, and if anything his eyes were brighter without them. However with a heavy blush suffusing her cheeks, Sylphide silently allowed herself to admit that she found guys in glasses really sexy… or maybe that preference had only been born upon meeting Harry… at this point in time she couldn't actually tell. Her brain was turning gelatinous under his tender ministrations, what girl would be able to think properly under the circumstances?

"Open up for me.." He whispered, his lips feathering to the corners of her mouth. Sylphide could not stunt the moan of indulgence that erupted from deep within her throat.

Sylphide felt her mouth widen, only to be boldly possessed by his fierce ardour. With infinite gentleness, his tongue ran over the seam of her lips, then with a heat that held her enthralled, he plunged into the far recesses of her mouth, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. His hands were so hot against her face... or was that just the blush that riddled her own complexion? She hardly knew… the only thing she could feel was him… consuming her… protecting her… Something that she had never felt before, almost indescribable… Had she not promised herself this would not happen again? Love was something that only brought misery and pain in its wake.

She broke away from him, that scant instant, turning her face from his avid gaze. His voice seemed to resonate from his chest in a breathless rasp. "Who- who are you?"

Sylphide could not bring herself to meet his gaze, instead pillowing her cheek against his chest. His heart was beating a stalwart rhythm against her ear.

There it was again, that ageless rhythm that only seemed to egg her on…

"Oh Harry… " Sylphide rapidly shook her head, her hair whirling about her like a sandstorm. "My name is-" Her voice teetered off, fearing to speak her dreaded thoughts.

It was a moment that could have lasted a lifetime, but instead grew to a shattering halt, when a crash sounded in the doorway. With a decent amount of shock covering her features, Sylphide turned to see a very inebriated Lavender Brown stumbling towards her... no… not me… it's Harry she walks to…

"Harry, dar- hic darling!" Sylphide looked onto the scene with a mild bout of envy running through her veins. Sober, Lavender was pretty enough, but even when she looked close to comatose, she could still pull off sexy – even if it was rather messy. Let's not forget that muggles did call alcohol the 'social lubricant', as suss as that may sound. Thinking about it, where in hell had she gotten the alcohol to get so … messed up? Harry was soon seen to answer that question.

"Lav, don't tell me you actually drank that stuff Ron brought? That vodka could have had anything in it…" Harry's genuine concern showed on his face as he ran to stop her from falling on her face, leaving Sylphide cold and alone. She felt like a street urchin looking in to a fancy home, standing in the semi darkness, while the man she… liked immensely was holding another girl.

Why was she so worried anyway? This 'Lav' had no bond on Harry… or at least so she'd been led to believe. She was being stupid… she almost found herself laughing at her own idiocy… Almost.

It was mere instants before Sylphide had finally convinced herself she had been worrying for naught, when the thought was suddenly halted midway, as just after a swift turn of Lavender's head back into the dark interior of the hall, Sylphide saw a horribly dark look cross her face as she quickly laced her arms around Harry's neck.

'Harry, I know why you are being so kind… How nice of you to reconsider my offer..." She purred, just as she pulled him down for a kiss.

The kiss seemed to last for an eternity, although in reality it barely lasted for a second. However that meant nothing to Sylphide's already bruised heart as she watched on in horror. Obviously this girl knows Harry well enough to take such… liberties! Sylphide's mouth was hanging right open in surprise, but was just as rapidly slammed shut as she raced past the clinging couple back into the hall. Tears began to pool in her eyes, but with a stubborn swipe they were once again non-existent. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit Harry was something special… but maybe that was the problem, maybe he was just too special… and could never be truly special to only one person. One love.

Impossible.

The 'boy who lived' was already loved by too many.

Sylphide knew she had to go… before she became one of countless others that filled the pages of his life.

It was for this reason she ignored that voice that echoed over the many other voices that drifted through the hall.

"Wait!" He yelled.

The music blared, if anything Sylphide ran faster.

It was really a question to consider, whether she would have stopped, once hearing Harry's laboured whisper of defeat upon losing her in the disorderly crowd.

"No… don't go…"

Harry felt his heart rise up in his throat as he murmured…

"… I love you, my Angel."

-

Sylphide flung herself onto her bed and wept. Her tears felt like the release of a dam of frustration, annoyance… and… and… anger. What right did he have to catch her so completely?

To take her heart and squeeze it in his iron fist; he had not a single right in the world!

Now Sylphide prided herself on the fact that this logic made sense… except for the fact that it wasn't actually Harry's fault. He had made no promises to her… so what right did she have, in feeling so betrayed…? None whatsoever.

Moving over to the window, she stared out over the widespread grounds of Hogwarts. The sky was so beautiful, but oddly blurred… a slight wetness was trickling down her cheek, the only indicator to her distress, falling… only to land unheeded upon her hand as it lay on the cold stone. This time she did nothing to stop her tears, it had been too long since she had been allowed to cry… much too long.

Suddenly she saw a small grey spot in the distance. A shooting star? No, it was flying toward her at rapid speed.

An owl, its wings flapping gently in the wind, a note visibly suspended from its delicate limbs. But why so late at night? Why not at breakfast like usual…?

Sylphide was soon to discover as the message was deposited in her hands, that this was one missive that had needed to reach her before the light of tomorrow. Desperately.

Sylphide paled considerably as she read, a look of dread crossing her features.

Dearest Sylphide, it read.

While I write this he comes. He is coming for you Syl… Marden is coming! I am so sorry, I promised I wouldn't tell, but he was … never mind that... I don't want you to worry… but believe me when I say I am so sorry… He knows you are at Hogwarts, and he is going to be looking for you. You must leave!

You are not safe… go... You know what will happen if he finds you.

I am sorry...

Your sister,

Sophia

Marden was coming. She knew he would, but it just seemed too soon… Sylphide felt the note flutter from her hands. And faintly heard the cooing of an owl… it seemed eager to take a return letter. Yet Sylphide could hardly breathe, let alone pen a memo to her sister.

It was odd that in her moment of distress, her mind was still clouded by Harry.

Because despite how much she knew she must run… she knew that in her heart, she must stay.

And that was where the idea came from. Just like that. Like a shock of lightning from the heavens, she ran from the window straight to the long cheval mirror that stood in the corner of the room. With ease, she pulled her hair up away from her face. Turning to view her profile this way and that.

With a smile on her lips, she grabbed her quill and ink and picked up the message from her sister only to turn it over and write rapidly on the back.

Soph,

Please do not despair, for Marden will not get what he seeks, because he will not find me.

At least, not the me he knows. For, I have a plan.

Yours,

Sylphide

She knew what she had to do, and with a strong intent in mind, she grabbed her wand and was out the door. She had to find him… she had to find Dumbledore.

This disguise was going to be so perfect that even Olivia wouldn't recognise her.

That reminded her, where was Olivia? Oh well, she would see her soon enough… but Olivia would not see her.

Sylphide smiled, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is going to pull their best Magic Trick yet…

With a swirl of my skirts, I am going to disappear from here.

Sylphide then laughed as she ran to the portrait hole.

And soon, I will return back a New Man!

Hah, Harry Potter! Now let us see who truly is the 'boy who lived'!

-

By the way guys, for everyone who has been reading since Pride and Pretence, I have decided to make this a trilogy...

It can be a guessing game for a little while who the third story's couple will be!

Here's what it has been so far;

Draco and Hermione - (Pride and Pretence)

Harry and Sylphide - (On the Twelfth Night)