Thank you to Morzan's Elvish Daughter, my only reviewer! (Look, if the rest of you don't like it, just tell me. I can take it.) I can't think of anything witty or sarcastic to say about this chapter, so...Enjoy!

To say that it wasn't a very nice day outside would be to say that You-Know-Who had a few personality problems. It was cold for October, and the sky was slate-gray and spat, occasionally, a bit of cold and stinging rain. But I pulled my cloak over my head and kept walking (a tiny bit of me was grateful that this was not the day of my first date, but that part was quickly squashed by the fact that the rest of me was still furious). But the Three Broomsticks was as warm and cozy as ever, and I spotted Emma quickly—

Oh, shit.

Emma and Leah were sitting with three boys. That was fine. The one nearest Emma was a Hufflepuff whose name I couldn't remember, and Leah was…cuddling…with a sharp-faced Slytherin who only looked at her and smiled, but the third…was Garrett Drake.

Get out, get out, get out quick—Too late. "Rose!" Emma called, waving frantically to me. The others turned (well, Leah's Slytherin didn't) and Drake beckoned. As I came closer, cursing my rotten luck with every step, I saw Em's face fall. "Rose? Are you okay?"

I forced a smile. "I'm fine," I said. I was lying to her a lot lately.

"I'll get you a Butterbeer," said Drake, and I forced myself to smile at him too. I sat beside Emma, unwrapping my scarf and taking off my mittens. Breathe. You like Butterbeer. You like Emma. You're happy.

"So where were you?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I was just being slow," I said, avoiding her gaze. I knew the look she would be giving me, and it wasn't one I enjoyed. Drake came back with the Butterbeer, handed it to me, and then sat again, far too close for my liking. They talked—I didn't listen too closely; instead I watched the door and the various people who came in and out. And then I stopped watching even that, my eyes glazed over—I didn't even have anywhere to go; my anger had dissipated into a sort of tired emptiness—and knew very little until I felt, very gently, Drake's hand on my waist. I couldn't help it – I gave a little half-shriek and jerked away, and at that moment I saw a pale gold head come in through the door. The head was bowed, and he was alone—I didn't care. My anger flared back into full and vibrant life once more at the sight of him, but this time it was usable anger, anger I could think through.

I wasn't going to slap him, oh no. I had something far more painful in mind.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Drake and smiled. "Sorry about that," I said, making my voice sweet. "You startled me." I scooted a bit closer to him; he replaced his hand around my waist. I felt the urge once more to get away, but I dealt with it and smiled at him.

I heard the door to the Three Broomsticks slam, and felt a small amount of satisfaction. Take that, Malfoy.

We walked back to Hogwarts as a group, arms intertwined, talking. I took comfort from Emma on my right, and tried to ignore Drake on my left—she knew something was wrong, I could tell, but she waited until we left the others at the base of a stairway. Then she turned to me. "All right, Rose," she said. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, and something in my voice must have convinced her that I wasn't going to talk about it.

"All right," she said, in a voice that promised further interrogation later, and to keep her off the subject I began pelting her with questions.

"Who was that Slytherin Leah was with?" I asked; she giggled.

"Pierce Jantzen. Scary, isn't he?" but it didn't sound like she thought he was scary. It sounded like she thought he was hilarious.

I threw her a bone; she was dying to tell me whatever it was about Leah and this Pierce Jantzen. "What's so funny, Em?"

"Well, just—the two of them. You weren't paying attention in the Three Broomsticks, were you…" She examined my face and continued, full speed ahead. "…but surely you must have seen them! It's just funny! And so odd to see him smiling. Apparently he's fancied her since they were little—he lives pretty near us—but she's halfblood, he's a Slytherin, she thinks he's a git, he's bloated with pureblood pride, but anyway…well, even she wouldn't tell me if in the end he asked her out or she did, but the result is what you saw. I just think it's a little funny, really."

I didn't see the humor, but then, I didn't know Leah well enough to, and, well…I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to see the humor in a lot of things for a while.

Emma managed to control her curiosity all through dinner, and even sat quietly while I forced myself to do my homework. Halfway through, she gave up. "All right, Rose," she said. "And I'm not taking no for an answer this time. What's with you? I've never seen you like this before." I turned away; she took my chin and made me look at her. "What happened to my happy Rosie? Who took her? And can I kill him?"

I felt my chin quiver, felt my eyes fill with tears. She pulled me into a hug, and I sobbed into her shoulder.

It shouldn't have mattered it shouldn't have mattered it shouldn't have mattered—

It does.

I told her everything, in the end, absolutely everything. I started with the owl, and skipped nothing from there, until finally I ended with today in the Three Broomsticks, and she listened—listened absolutely silently, a rare occurrence for her—and when I was done she shook her head. "Rose," she said, "oh, Rosie, what have you gotten yourself into?"

Jantzen, by the way, is a brand of men's bathing attire, or it was in the sixties and seventies. I needed a name with a 'z' in it. I suppose theoretically the short saga of Leah and random-Slytherin wasn't necessary, but...oh well. Please review!