Pansy's view

My stomach turns when I see her with Elera. One part of me wants to kiss her until we collapse into each other. But my other part of me keeps saying that I shouldn't. I shouldn't, because she didn't believe me. I shouldn't, because she believed that I cheated on her. But I would never be able to. I've waited for her love for years, nothing more. But then this Ravenclaw boy came…and me? I didn't kiss him back for fuck's sake. I didn't even want that kiss. I don't know why I'm here right now. I'm sitting with her completely aimlessly under this tree. He gives me some chocolate, but it has no taste. Then, as I look at the smiling Sofia, the chocolate becomes more bitter. She' writing that Divination essay like it's funny. But it's not. Who the hell can laugh at the 18th century wizard civil war? Okay, probably she doesn't laugh on that, but she is still laughing. Beautifully. Her snow-white teeth sometime shows, and as she tilts her head back, the sunlight glints on her soft skin. It's wonderful. She's wonderful with all of her good and bad traits.

It's delightful when she wakes up in the morning with messy hair and she climbs out of the bed constantly growling. She's always hated getting up early. If she could, school would started at 10 o'clock. It's marvellous how she can draw. She's fucking beautiful when she curls her hair. At the last party I kept playing with it all the time. It was silky and smelled like cinnamon. Does she still use that shampoo? Did she throw it out of her life, like she did with me?

- Pansy, can we talk? - a random guy says, snapping me back to reality. Reginald wraps his arm around me tighter, and the boy raises his hand in a placating gesture.

- What do you want?

- We should do the project work because the deadline is in three days.

- Oh my God, yes – I answer and get up as quickly as I can. – Library?

- Perfect.

I want to follow my partner, but something holds me back. I turn back and Reginald presses a kiss to my lips. – Goodbye kiss – he says with a smile, and I would like to slap him and smile at him at the same time.

I take a step back and look at Sofia, and I see that she is completely broken. The former sparkle has completely disappeared from her eyes, now it's just two darkened globe that makes me cry inside. My heart skips a beat when our eyes meet. It hurts really much. She shakes her head, then she's going back to her homework. Maybe I should do that too.

I go to the library, but in my mind is still in turmoil. Not to mention my heart. – I didn't find you yesterday, so I started it. I hope you don't mind it.

- No, I'm don't – I try to smile, but judging by his reaction, it turned into more of a snarl.

As we sit down at a quiet corner of the library, my partner spreads out his notes on the table, but I can barely focus on what he's saying. My eyes drift to the window, where the late afternoon sunlight filters through, casting long shadows across the room. My thoughts are still stuck on Sofia—her broken expression, the way she shook her head like I wasn't worth her time anymore. It stings more than I'd like to admit.

- Are you even listening? - my partner asks, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

- Yeah, sorry - I mumble, grabbing my pen and pretending to jot something down. But my mind is miles away. Sofia's laugh echoes in my memory, her tilted head in the sunlight. And now, it's gone. I glance back at my partner, who's watching me with a raised brow. - Let's just finish this, okay? - I say, my voice colder than I intended. He shrugs and starts talking again, but I don't hear a word. All I can think about is whether Sofia will ever look at me the same way again—or if I've already lost her for good.

I force myself to focus on the parchment in front of me, scribbling half-hearted notes while my partner talks about our project. His voice fades into the background as my thoughts keep circling back to Sofia. What was that look in her eyes? Anger? Hurt? Or worse—indifference? I press my pen harder than I realize, and the ink smudges across the page.

- You're going to tear through the paper – my partner mutters, glancing at me with mild annoyance.

- Sorry – I whisper, but my apology feels hollow. My chest tightens as I remember the way Sofia used to laugh, the way she used to look at me like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Now, she won't even meet my gaze.

I glance at the clock on the wall. An hour has passed, but it feels like a lifetime. My partner is still talking, but I've already made up my mind. – I need a break – I mutter, standing abruptly. Before he can protest, I'm out of the library, my feet carrying me toward the dorms. Toward Sofia. My feet are suddenly rooted to the ground, my hand shaking over the doorknob. I can't do it, so I head back to the library. – Let's do it – I say with a weak smile, but I don't mean it.

She is dancing for me, and she is so beautiful. She undoes her hair and slowly slides her hand up on my thigh. She sits on my lap, our faces only just millimetres apart. I run my hand through his hair, making him laugh as he strokes my face. But something suddenly pushes me. The effects of the drug start to wear off as I take deep breaths and slowly try to calm down. My heart skips a beat when I realise, she's actually there in front of me.

She doesn't say a word, just looks at me with those piercing eyes that make it impossible to breathe. Her lips part slightly, as if she's about to say something, but no sound comes out. I want to reach for her, to touch her, to make sure she's real, but I'm frozen. The music pounds around us, the laughter and shouting of the party fading into a distant hum. It's just her, and me, and the unbearable weight of everything unsaid between us.

- I'm sorry – she whispers, her voice tinged with confusion, before running away. Theo opens his mouth to speak, but Draco shakes his head, silencing him. It's better this way. I'm not ready to talk about me and Sofia – not yet.

I laugh bitterly as a tear rolls down my cheek. I reach for the alcohol on the table and pour almost half of it into a shot glass. The alcohol burns as it slides down my throat, but it does little to numb the ache in my chest. My fingers tremble slightly as I set the glass back on the table, my eyes lingering on the empty space across from me, where she used to sit. The silence presses in, suffocating, and I can feel my mind beginning to spiral, each thought more chaotic than the last. I reach for the bottle again, almost out of instinct, but Theo stops me before I can pour more. – What the hell are you doing?

- It would be too much. If it won't kill you, McGonagall surely will.

- I don't care about that filthy old bitch – I scoff angrily. - Besides, you smoke and drink alcohol just like me, so don't be so high and mighty.

- It's not the alcohol that you need—it's her. And she's gone – Draco says, then exhales the smoke with his eyes closed. – But you can start again. Just talk to her.