Chapter 2

AN: I was very excited by the good response from the first chapter, so here we go again! Thanks to xXMidnightEssenceXx whose reupload of the original story is serving as the basis for this one.

Again, I do not own ANYTHING in this story except the rewritten content itself. Plot and OC's are property of Tara Gilesbie, and any other characters or references are property of J.K. Rowling.

Original AN by Tara Gilesbie: Fangz 2 bloodytearz666 for helpin me wif da chapta! BTW prepz stop flaming ma story ok!

I woke the next day, or what I assumed was the next day, at the sound of hurried dressing by my fellow dorm-mates. I was still cushioned in darkness. My affliction demanded the need to have constant restorative access to not one of the customary four-poster beds shared by my peers, but to a large and comfortably plush coffin. I was, as always, starkly abnormal – in my needs, wants, and wishes. The stereotypicality of the situation struck me, and I grimaced; even as much as I was different, I was yet so much the same that it preyed on my mind in situations like this. I was all disgust.

I begrudgingly opened the lid of my resting place as the last of the footsteps died away and the door squeaked shut. There was again the odd mixture of snow and rain pelting the windows outside, white sky melding seamlessly with the white ground. We were all living – although for me, I suppose it was something akin to un-living - on a sheet of blank parchment. I smiled. The pale light from the window to my right struck the violently pink velvet cushions inside my tomb and bathed the polished ebony in a dusty glow. I poured a glass of what to anyone else would appear on all accounts to be wine from the decanter at my coffin-side and drained it in two large gulps, catching a drop as it pelted toward the lace trim of my bedding and licking it from my finger. Sighing, I forced myself up and out in one swift motion. I landed without a thud, my bare feet lightly padding on the stone floor as I disentangled myself from my oversized My Chemical Romance t-shirt. My closet yielded promising results in this post-Christmas season. I chose a black dress of imitation leather and fishnet tights. With my customary Docs on my feet, I bejeweled myself – pentagram necklace and earrings enough to fill my auricle to sagging. The time was beginning to betray me as I piled my hair in a messy bun.

I jolted at the sound I recognized as a creaking coffin lid behind me. Sure enough, the rosewood tomb next to mine was slowly raising its lid, its occupant rising theatrically, stiff as a board and grinning. Willow had risen (Original AN: Raven dis is u!). We had bonded over our shared uniqueness from the time we were "ickle firsties." She was a best friend of mine. She whipped her Pentacostalic black-and-pink mane out of her face and flashed her forest green eyes, shielding them from the glare of the dingy light bouncing off of the whiteness outside. She dressed as quickly as she talked:

"I saw you talking to Malfoy yesterday!" she exclaimed.

Good morning to you, too. "Yeah, so?" I felt heat rise into my cheeks – not such an easy feat, but he was a sensitive subject. I tried to cover it with white foundation, praying it wouldn't look as caked-on as it felt. At that moment, I felt that looking into the Mirror of Erised would show me nothing more than my own reflection – my deepest desire in times like these.

She saw my face betray me and gave me a smirk as we both applied our black lipstick.

"Do you like him?" she teased a minute later as we wandered toward the Great Hall.

I was done with this conversation. "No, I so fucking don't!"

She left it with a look that said, "Yeah, right." I was beginning to feel irritated. So what if I did like him? It wasn't anything to torment me about. Besides, I didn't – not really. He was handsome, to be sure; his physical nature definitely solidified him as strictly my type. If I was being honest, so did his personality: He was delightfully snarky and did not want for anything to lament over. Yes, one could call him prone to depression, but those were the best kind; they were the sensitive kind – the kind to bring flowers and hold hands. And on top of it all, his wardrobe was always en pointe. Anyone as impeccably dressed as him had to have impeccable taste in music as well. Maybe I could like him…

I was startled from my reverie by the man himself and felt Willow nudge me as she walked away to find a seat at the Slytherin table. "Hi," he said. He seemed awkward; it was adorable. "Hi," I replied. I could feel the color in my face again, unsure it had ever gone in the first place. He was avoiding eye contact as best he could. I watched his eyes dart this way and that as he thought of the best way to approach whatever angle he was aiming at. He cleared his throat and said something I didn't hear. My mind went dumb. Oh my God, his eyes are the same color as outside. He cocked his head and brought himself to my level. "Hngh?!" I grunted in surprise.

"I said, guess what?" His mouth curved into a half smile, relieving me of a good deal of the trepidation that had balled itself up in the pit of my stomach. "What's that?" I asked, maybe a little too brightly. Dammit, Ebony, get it together. He seemed not to have noticed, or was at least ignoring my uncharacteristically bubbly attitude. "Good Charlotte are having a concert in Hogsmeade," he told me. My mind crashed in around itself; every fiber of my being hummed its approval. The synapses in my brain had to fight to connect themselves at such dumbfounding news. Good Charlotte? Here? Not twenty minutes away?! "Oh. My. Fucking. God…" was all I could conjure. He laughed, now clearly more at ease. Profanity was always the surest way to pack away the trepidation of those around me; it's a public service, really. His eyes lit up at my excitement as he asked, "Would you like to go with me?" I was struck dumb. Thankfully, he took my gasp as an affirmation and our date was set.

Our date!

AN: Thank you so much for reading! Let me know once again, if you want me to continue! This is the first story I've ever uploaded here, so I'm a little nervous about its reception.