Chapter 21: Cheers to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts

POV: Al, Emily, James, Lily, Scorpius

We were walking in a comfortable silence, our shoes leaving distinct footprints on the snow that covered the streets of the village. A chorus of laughter, shouts, and loud conversations rang in the chilly air around us, adding to the sweet melody that played from a music store that had just opened.

After two hours of (re)exploring the village, stopping to check out one of the three new shops, or revisiting old ones to see new merchandise, I pulled my fingers away from the hand I had been holding since we climbed off our carriage. 

"Ladies first," I said to Evanna Nott, holding the door open when we arrived to our destination.

"By all means, go right inside, then," she said with a sharp smirk. 

"Oh, so you're one of those?" I said with a laugh.

"One of what?" Evanna asked, quirking a brow up.

"Hates chivalry but claims chivalry is dead."

She laughed now. "Opening the door for me and claiming it's to be a gentleman is what I hate. You should open the door—"

"I should open the door regardless of gender because it's proper manners," I said. "Yeah, I know. I was schooled about this by Nia before. She doesn't accept help from someone because she's a girl, unless that same person does so for everyone. Merlin, that was a lecture that lasted two hours. Safe to say, Zabini never helped her off the carriage again without yanking Malfoy—Oh. Sorry."

Evanna's amused expression had turned into a tight-lipped smile. When I caught on and stopped, she forced herself to give a laugh as she pushed me into the tea shop.

"Oi," I said with a playful outburst, "I was under the impression this was a gentle date."

"I was under the impression it'd be the opposite, actually," Evanna said, her smirk back. "I honestly thought I was going to get a little James Potter out of you. We all heard the story of him snogging that Hufflpuff. All my friends warned me about pesky Potter fingers."

I looked down at my hands, removing the gloves slowly as to hide my frown. 

I didn't know much about James' love life (on account I always assumed he did not have one). Yeah, I was aware a lot of girls from all years swooned over him and his unruly black hair (which I also had, but no one really noticed mine), but he had eyes for one girl. While Emily failed (or chose to ignore) to see how truly dedicated my brother was to her, James apparently still had time to have a fumble with other girls. If his reputation among the female population at school had developed as such, what could I expect him to do with Nia by his side?

I looked up at Evanna when a part of my brain assured me Nia would surely punch James if he even dared to brush her hair aside. 

"Table for Potter, please," Evanna said to the elderly witch approaching us with a greeting smile.

"Of course, my dear! Right this way. And welcome to Madam Puddifoot's, the most romantic spot in Hogsmeade, where our teas are carefully brewed and our sweets deliciously cooked."

Evanna sniggered at the rhyme and I grimaced.

The woman sighed, her previous enthusiasm simmering down. "It's a bit much, I know," she said as she led us to a corner table at the end of the shop. "Ever since Madam Puddifoot passed away, Miss Puddifoot thinks silly little rhymes will liven up the place. She wants us to be wired like we are on a Cheering Charm. The girl's a nutter." 

As Evanna settled herself on the seat I pulled out for her, she looked at the woman with sympathy. "That's very unpleasant, I'm sure."

"Yes, dear, it's quite tragic. Imagine a woman my age with that nonsense? Nonetheless, Miss Puddifoot pays good wages." And back with her cheery smile, she handed us menus. "Enjoy your date. I'm sure Madam Puddifoot's made you realize it was fate."

With a grimace, the woman marched off. I was going to comment on the corniness of the shop, but I noticed Evanna had a contemplative thought, her eyes on the trail the woman left. She then scanned the occupied tables around us, people holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked. "I mean, it's a lovely place with all the rhyming greetings and floating, pink hearts," her finger pointed to the decorations over our heads, then back down to a candle that was emitting out those floating hearts.

I shrugged, saying, "Well, I've never been on a date, but I always heard girls talk about coming here and being...I don't know, I just wanted to make you feel special."

Merlin. I was a Potter through and through, wasn't I? The males of this bloodline do not know how to speak to girls. 

She let out a small laugh, her eyes gaining a softness. "I do feel special, I suppose. Especially since this is your first date."

"You don't have to make me sound like a total loser," I told her with a grin.

"It's not a completely terrible thing," she said. "When I told my father I was going on a date with you, he seemed to be confident on the fact that you had been taught manners and how to treat a girl."

I choked on my own air. 

"Yes, I told my father about today," Evanna laughed, waving it off like she was telling me the color of her shoes. 

"So, did I totally butcher this date?" I asked instead, straying for that uncomfortable conversation. "You don't strike me as a tea and sweets person."

She reached for my hand, squeezing. "I'm just happy you wanted to go out with me."

"I'd be crazy not to," I said, repeating the same words Lucas had said to me the night before when I contemplated cancelling (feigning a cold or broken limb like the coward I am).

"Maybe. Since rumor has it you're crazy for Harper." 

I coughed again, eyes growing wide. 

Evanna's smile had lost the edge of amusement. "Are you?"

"No," I said instantly, like I had practiced the lie for so long. And I had.

I squeezed her hand back, clutching on like I was afraid if she let go I would have to endure the reality of Nia not liking me back. 

"Listen," I began, clearing my throat, "Nia's my friend. She's the first girl I befriended that wasn't related to me and it made us...me attached. Nothing has ever existed between us, nor will it."

Forget tea, where's the firewhiskey?

While something sent a pang of hurt in my chest, Evanna ran a thumb carefully over my knuckles. She did not say anything, but a part of me knew she was not entirely sure I was not lamenting the fact Nia never looked twice at me.

X

Pulling the collar of my coat tighter around my neck, I turned to the boy with gold eyes looking down at the village from the slope of a lonely hill where we sat.

"Are you okay?"

Lance turned to me. "Yeah," he said, a sharp grin starting to pull his lips upward, "Why do you ask, darling?"

I blushed at the endearment, but still said, "You haven't really said anything for the past twenty minutes."

He let out a laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel insecure."

"I'm not."

I was.

Lance scooted closer to me, putting an arm around my shoulder to pull me in closer to his side. He was all heat and intoxicating scent. "I'm not good with words—and neither are you."

I looked down at my hands. 

That's because you have only tragedies to tell,  that voice in my head reminded.

"And that's okay," he said, gently pushing my chin up, making me meet his bottomless gaze. "Sometimes silence is golden, Emily. It's in what people don't say that you really get to know them."

He won't find anything worthwhile.

"And?" I asked slowly, timidly. 

His grin grew. "And you're the most appealing person I've encountered in a while."

When his gaze traveled down from my face, drinking me in, I felt my cheeks burn pink. I had never been looked at that way—the way a person looks at another with the intent to devour, to put fingerprints on and claim as theirs. 

It intrigued me more than it terrified me. 

Because you need someone to cover up everything you've done until it's all hidden away.

"I crave your closeness, Emily," he muttered. "Is that wrong?"

You don't let anyone in—you don't let your friends in, but you're going to let him?

My hands shook, but I still said, "No, it's not."

Expertly, Lance managed to maneuver me on to his lap, his hands coming to my waist, fingers gripping a little too tightly.

Nervously, I rested my left hand on the back of his neck, flushing pink at the way I hovered over him and how his eyes grew dark with desire. 

No one had pulled me in this close before. It felt almost wrong that it was Lance who did. Yet, that voice was right. Better him than the others. Better him than anyone I could truly break with a touch of my hand. 

Lance Greyback had a better chance at surviving me. 

"You're shattered inside," he murmured as he leaned closer to me, his cold hands pushing my dark hair behind my shoulder. He pressed a feathering touch with his lips on my neck. "I saw it the night that I met you. You were looking at the moon and the stars for an answer."

"How do you know that?" 

"Because," his lips pressed harder on my neck, dragging the kiss to the base of my throat, "I often look at the moon for answers, too. It answers me, but I doubt it answers you."

I closed my eyes when he looked up at me. "Do you want to fix me?"

"No," he said with a small laugh, "I don't think there's anything to fix."

X

Nia Harper was not a force to be reckoned with. Regardless of who you were, the lithe beauty monster would narrow wide, blue eyes at you until you conceded your power to her. 

That's exactly how the clerk of Dervish and Banges looked as he shifted on his feet, sweating as he inspected the broken broom over his counter.

"It was some match, wasn't it, sweetheart? This broom took a beating."

I took a step back. Poor, idiot man. He should've kept his mouth shut.

"This wasn't a result of a Quidditch match," Harper hissed, crossing her arms furiously over her chest, "if it had been, I wouldn't be standing here with a broken broom. I'd be standing on the bones of the losers I crushed. No, this is what happens when a Finnegan gets his hand on a wand."

I—and every person in existence—was fortunate not to have been Saar Finnegan that night (or ever, really). Harper had been set on killing the poor bastard had it not been for Lysander Scamander managing to interfere long enough to pull him up to the boys' dormitories. Honestly, not like it was a secret that Harper was a stunning witch, but I think that was the first time I contemplated her as someone worth lusting over.

Not that it would happen, on account that it'd be like being at the mercy of a black widow. Not to mention my heart called for someone else (no matter what either head of mine wanted).

Clearing his throat, the clerk said, "Well, Miss, I might be able to repair it. It will take some time, of course, seeing as it's an old broom—"

I started laughing, but then caught myself choking on it when those dangerous blue eyes flashed at me.

"Amused, Potter?"

I shook my head. 

Look, I have been around girls like Nia Harper all my life (my mother is Ginny Potter, after all), so I knew when to keep my mouth shut. 

However, the clerk did not.

"Potter?" he practically shouted. "A Potter at Dervish and Banges? Merlin's beard! The honor! The—"

I grinned happily at the man, but Harper cut across with, "my broom is not old!"

"It kinda is, mate. It's more than two decades old, actually. They don't even manufacture it anymore," I said. 

"Firebolts are classic and dependable," she hissed at me. 

 I allowed myself to snort at the dangerous girl. "No, Harper, they're not. They're as worthless and out of style as that Nimbus Two-thousand and One Malfoy inherited from his father."

"He's right, you know?" the clerk added in my favor. "Firebolts were once brilliant brooms, of course, but now they're more of a collection item among long-time Quidditch fans. It's not a proper broom for a young girl." He smiled at her but he was met with that constant frown. "I suggest a Volo for you, Miss."

I knew the man was a second from being turned into a pile of ash, so I decided to assist him by adding, "A Volo is the best broom on the market right now, Harper. Listen to the man. He's knows what he's talking about."

Damn my inherited need to help other people. I should have just let Harper roast the clerk. Now she was taking a slow, frightening step in my direction. A pale index finger was pointed at me and sharp, glittering teeth exposed when she said, "A Volo is for little spoiled brats who can afford to toss their parents' money around. You've got two, right? Mummy nor Daddy batted an eye over it. Well, that's nice of them, but some of us inherit their brooms, and this is the one my father gave me." She turned to the clerk, luckily frowning at him now, "Mend it, owl me, and then I'll pay you."

Harper stuffed her wand in the pocket of her grey coat before stomping out of the shop. The clerk let out a breath of relief. "Bit feisty your girlfriend, Mister Potter."

I grunted. "She's pretty, I'll say, but she's demented, that one. And I'm not mental enough to jump on that train-wreck."

The clerk gave me a farewell before I followed after Harper. I found her waiting near a bulletin board announcing Hogsmeade's upcoming events as well as showing wanted posters of criminals Dad and his Aurors had not yet caught. 

"You're riled up about nothing," I said as I joined her. "It's just a broom."

"It's my greatest possession," she said through gritted teeth. 

I started reaching for her hand but she flashed a warning look at me. "Blimey," I huffed, "I was just trying to comfort you. It's not like I was going to get you pregnant."

"I don't need to be comforted," Harper said, her chin raising in pride, "and, please. You'd never get anywhere near my lady parts even if you were the last bloke on Earth."

I could have come up with a great zinger, but instead I said, "I didn't snog that Hufflepuff girl, you know. She was crying and I stopped to ask if she was okay. I didn't even know her name. She just...she reminded me of Em. When I hugged her, some Gryffindors were passing by and exaggerated the story."

Harper turned blue eyes away from the wanted poster of a particularly demented-looking bloke. "Are all the stories of you and other girls fake, then?"

"I kissed a girl once," I told her, "during a game of truth and dare with the Ravenclaws my Third Year. That was it."

"You let the stories get around so no one would know you're mad about Em? Mate, we all know you're mad about her."

I kicked snow into a pile when I mumbled, "Yeah, except for her."

Harper's gaze was always narrowed every single time she looked at me throughout the years, but that was the first time I saw a softness behind them. Her hand moved close enough to touch mine, but in the last second she squeezed her palm into a fist and put it in her pocket. 

"I don't think Em knows, you know," she finally said, a tone of sympathetic sincerity I'd never heard. "I don't think Em even knows what it is to have people devoted to her. She always looks so surprised at all of us, like we're magic and we're going to disappear if she blinks. I wouldn't rule out the potential of her loving you back. It's all about accepting it."

"Speaking from experience?" I asked, a small, grateful smile on my lips as I tried to hide the hurt behind it. 

She scoffed. "I fancy myself first and foremost, thank you."

I started laughing when the girl of my dream's called out for me. I turned from Harper and the bulletin board, squinting my eyes to better see Emily through the falling snow, but my heart dropped at her approaching with Lance Greyback, their hands clasped tight. 

"Are you going back to school now?" Emily asked, unaware how her beautiful smile effected my heart. 

"Yep," said Harper, clearing her throat and trying to stand in front of me, to block the sight of Emily and Greyback holding hands. "Are you leaving, too?"

"I am," Emily told her, "but Lance is staying a bit longer. He was just walking me to the carriages."

Harper took a step forward, reaching for Emily's hand. She tugged her closer to us, flashing a dangerous grin at the older bloke. "Thanks, mate," she said in a tone that suggested she was not exactly fond of him, "We've got it. You can run along now."

Emily looked between Harper and Greyback, but said nothing at the clear tension sparking up. 

"Take care of my girl, will you, Potter?" he bit back, looking over Harper's shoulder to cast dark, golden eyes at me. 

Emily winced, taking in a breath at Harper's red flush.

"Okay, I'm going to pretend you didn't claim ownership on my friend like she's a piece of meat," said Harper, moving Emily back to me. She didn't say anything as I reached for her wrist, pulling her away from the swinging zone. "And I will ignore this once that you asked Potter to watch out for her. Have you not seen him get his arse handed to him by almost every older student? Do you know how many idiots I've hexed and walked away without breaking a sweat? Yeah, I didn't think so."

With that, the trip to Hogsmeade was over. But somehow, the only good thing about it had been Harper. Maybe Greengrass was right all along—she was actually a really great friend.

She definitely earned points of gratitude from me as I now walked with an arm slung around Emily's shoulders on the way back to Hogwarts. 

X

Winter was definitely here with its cold wind, thick snow, and darkening skies overpowering the sun rays in a battle of dominance. It made everything grey and the view outside Gryffindor Tower's window so sad to look at, like we were watching a world be eaten by white and ice.

"This is so depressing," Hugo sighed next to me, reflecting my mood. Letting out a grunt, I sunk myself lower into the armchair beside the fireplace. "We're Third Years, and instead of being off at Hogsmeade, we're sulking," he continued.

With a loud sigh, Roxy propped herself up on her elbows from her lying form on the floor. "We have no lives," she said sadly.

On the armchair across from me, Lucy snorted as she flipped a page of her book. "You're all being a bit pathetic, don't you think?" Her brown eyes peered up at us, looking scolding and firm in that way Uncle Percy's always did when he questioned all of our life choices. "You could've caught a carriage to Hogsmeade, Roxy—and you were, until you came for a sweater and got stuck here."

"I was—"

"And you, Hugo," Lucy continued, cutting across Roxy to look at the boy next to me, "your Ravenclaw friends insisted you join them, but then you came here to ask Rose for some extra galleons and ditched your friends."

"I did not—"

"So, all in all, really," there Lucy went again, "you two could've been enjoying yourselves, but you saw Lily moping around and you felt bad leaving her to wallow in her misery."

At that, at the way Lucy's always honest and appointed words lingered in the lonely common room we were in, Roxy and Hugo blushed red and refused to look anywhere but at their feet.

I frowned at them, but quickly shot it at Lucy. "Why aren't you at Hogsmeade, Lu?"

 Closing her book, brown eyes narrowed and annoyed, Lucy sat taller on her armchair. "I actually was going to go to Hogsmeade with Dominique, and I came in here to look for her, but then I saw you. Naturally, I couldn't leave."

Just like that, like a quick snap of fingers or a palm being waved in front of my face, I shook away Lucy's annoying manner of being and remembered why I loved her so. "You three are the best friends in the world," I sighed, digging my back deeper into my seat. "But, honestly, don't mind me. You three should've gone and enjoyed yourselves. I just have a broken heart, I'll be fine."

  Lucy rolled her eyes, Roxy gave me a sad, pouted look, and Hugo wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

    "I'm sure if any of us were in this state, you'd do the same for us," Hugo said all-knowingly, squeezing me a little. "Now, cheer up, cousin. We hate seeing you like this."

"I hate seeing myself like this too," I mumbled, "but it is my fault. I should've known better."

Roxy continued to pout sadly. "Well, Lily, just because you two haven't talked, it doesn't mean he doesn't want anything to do with you," she said silently. "Maybe he's just thinking a lot of things over, you know. It has to be hard to be in the spot he's in. He doesn't just have Al to worry about, or you, but also Nia. She's his best friend."

 "Don't sympathize with him," I snapped, crossing my arms indignantly. "Or that bloody girl, either."

  "Merlin forbid that I ever confess this again, but I agree with Roxanne," Lucy spoke up, giving her opinion for the first time over my situation (one that didn't include the eye-roll, snort, or a disapproving shake of the head). "You don't know what he's going through, yet you're dramatizing everything, Lily."

    I was taking a second to come up with an intelligent retort, but in that moment the portrait-hole swung open and someone marched into the common room. As it was in a Potter's luck, the object of my affection was the one to appear.

  "Talking about Prince Charming," Hugo muttered in my ear, a smirk on his stupid face.

   Brown eyes taking in the people before him, Liam suddenly looked overwhelmed.  "Um...hey, you lot," he said awkwardly.

  "Greengrass," Hugo greeted cheerfully. "Glad you're here, mate, we were just leaving and we needed someone to take care of Lily. She's been out of order lately, so hopefully you can help with that."

  Shooting the most murderous gaze I could've come up with at Hugo, I felt immensely betrayed as Lucy and Roxy immediately stood up from their places to go along with his ploy.

 "Hugo," I hissed desperately, my eyes wide as my three cousins headed past the Fifth Year and straight out the portrait-hole.

Once the portrait closed behind them, an uncomfortable tension pierced the air like needles. 

  Turning away from the path my cousins left in, Liam moved his brown eyes at me, looking  apologetic and uncomfortable as the atmosphere in the lonely common room felt. 

It sparked anger inside of me. 

"Wait," he said as I stood from my chair, ready to leave him behind. "Please."

 Before I could make it four steps up the staircase of the girls' dormitories, I felt his fingers grasp my forearm. 

"What?" In the tiny space that we had, his face was so close to mine. "What do you want, Liam?" 

  "I'm sorry," he muttered, his eyes now gleaming with something painful. "I didn't mean to hurt you, honest. I...I don't even know what's going on half of the time. I'm just...Confused doesn't cut it, Lily. I just needed some, um, time...time to figure things out."

   I crossed my arms, taking a step up so I could put some distance between us. "What is there to think about, Liam? I told you I liked you—I kissed you, for Merlin's sake! You should've been able to know right there and then if you liked me, too."

 He lowered his head, hiding his eyes from me. "It's not that simple," he whispered again. "Al would have my head...then there's Nia. I...Nia and me...well—"

 I threw my hands in the air with a grunt. I didn't want to hear any of this, not anymore. I put my heart on the line and all I get is Nia-this and Nia-that; well, to hell with Harper! She wasn't involved with this. It was just me and him, no third-parties.

  Turning on him again, I continued to stomp my way up the staircase. His footsteps were right behind me again, and at that very moment I wondered why in Dumbledore's name the slip-and-slide that was put on the stairs to keep all the boys out was not working.

  "Lily, please, listen—"

   "No. Go away now, Greengrass," I told him with a snarl as I kept walking. As I did, he did, too. And since my only hope to escape him so I could cry my eyes out was on the other side of my dormitory door, I opened it quickly.

 However, just as I opened it with a giant BANG, I stumbled upon something horrific.

  "—What the hell?" I screamed.

    "—Lily!" Dominique shrieked, 

    "—My eyes!" Liam shouted in disgust. 

I stumbled back a step, but Liam put his hands on my back, keeping me straight.

"Dominique!" I screamed again. "What the bloody hell are you—?"

Stopping myself, I stumbled some more and Liam held on tighter. There, completely naked and on a boy who was wearing the same thing as her—absolutely nothing—was my cousin, Dominique Weasley. Her green eyes were staring in shock and embarrassment, her long hair covering her exposed chest as she faced our direction.

  Turning, I slapped Liam's hands away from me and I put mine over his eyes. 

  As I was now behind Liam making sure his eyes were covered and he couldn't see anything, I got a full glance of where Dominique and that boy were naked on. Instantly, more horror seeped into me. "Dominique," I shouted again, "you're on my bed!"

   "Well, I'd say I was sorry, but you weren't supposed to be here!" Dominique bit back at me, losing her embarrassment for that damn arrogance of hers I mostly admired on any other day.

 Moving away from me, Liam tore his face from my hands and grimaced. "Isn't that a Slytherin?" he asked, turning in an angle away from my bed as he pointed a discreet finger at the bloke lying beneath my cousin. "Derrick Rowle, isn't it? I saw you talking once with my cousin Scorpius."

 I frowned at him, slapping him on the chest. "Yes, like this is the time to make acquaintances!"  Despite my anger, I blinked and caught a view of the muscular boy. I blushed and quickly looked away.

  Groaning in embarrassment and annoyance, the boy underneath stirred. "Can't you leave for a moment? I'd really like my pants right about now."

  "You should've kept your pants on before you came up here to violate a Weasley," Liam snapped at him, crossing his arms and acting offended.

 Rowle narrowed his black eyes at us, his face more at view as he sat and continued to balance Dominique on him. "You're one to talk, mate. You're up here about to violate a Potter! That's even worse."

    "Lily!" Dominique's eyes widened in mock.

    I frowned. "Oh, shut up. We weren't going to do no such thing."

 Dominique scoffed and ignored me. "Why are you here with my little cousin, Greengrass? I thought you fancied Nia Harper. I don't think she's going to take it well when she knows you were in here with Lily."

            Tensing up for a moment, looking between upset and saddened, Liam was quick to shake it off. "That's none of your business," he snapped in a tone that was very unlike him. "My feelings for Lily are between her and me, and you two should really get out so we can talk."

  Holy Merlin, what a day.

                                                                                   X

In the past five years, it was rare when I had the dormitory all to myself. Hell, it was rare when I was by myself. Now that Al was off on his date with Evanna Nott and Lucas had snuck off to Salazar-only-knows-where, I was intent on enjoying every minute of solitude I was granted to unwind. Of course, my life wasn't that simple considering that I had befriending a wounded dragon a few weeks back that took a liking to me.

So as I stretched out on my bed, wrinkling emerald sheets, ready for a nap, the door of my dormitory opened. Belinda allowed herself in.

"I thought you were cooler than this," she said, dark eyes looking unimpressed at me as she crossed arms over the silk  bathrobe around her glittering body. 

"You know what's not cool? Insomnia," I said to her, annoyed. "Something I happen to have a lot of since Professor Alan assigned me fifteen essays for walking out with you that Boggart lesson. I deserve a bloody nap."

"Well, in that case, you should have invited me over," Belinda said with a sharp grin as she closed the door behind her.

I let out a frustrated sigh as she headed for my four-poster. "Rookwood," I started, "I'm not really in the mood to entertain you."

"Oh?" she laughed. "Are you sure it's just lack of sleep that's got your wand in a knot? Or is it perhaps that Emily Taylor has gotten herself a boyfriend? Lance Greyback, right? He sure is beautiful. And really fond of biting. There was this one time he—"

"Enough," I hissed at her. 

Picturing Greyback with Emily was the last thing I needed. I didn't need the nightmares that would come with that. 

If there was one thing Belinda surely was, it was stubborn. She never backed away from anything. As such, she continued with, "It's not that Taylor girl, is it? It's Rose Weasley going on a date with Lysander, isn't it? Or it's both. My, what a love triangle you've gotten yourself in, Malfoy. Well," she crawled a little closer to me, putting a hand on my knee, "love square if you add me to it."

"There isn't a love triangle," I scoffed. "Emily is...Rose can do whatever the hell she wants."

"So can you," Belinda said, moving her hand a few centimeters upward. "If you let yourself. If you let me."

I grabbed her hand from my thigh, pulling her up from her hands and knees. "I keep telling everyone you're not my girlfriend," I did not find any form of sweetness to deliver this line, "because I don't see you that way. I'm just your friend, Belinda."

"Friend," she huffed at the word, like it had a bitter taste to it. "I'm not looking to win your heart, Malfoy. I've told you, my story is set. And I'm not totally sure I'm looking for a friend, either. I just want a good laugh and a good snog."

"You want more than a snog," I pointed out.

"What's wrong with that?"

I sighed, letting her hand go. Belinda took the opportunity to straddle my lap, putting one palm on my left shoulder while her right slithered fingers in the back of my hair. 

"The problem is the person you want to snog won't stop fighting with you," she said, grinning at me. "She's a bit of a savage. I mean, she is a Weasley. Tragically, her mother's intelligence is lost with her if she can't figure out—"

"Rookwood," I cut across.

Belinda's hand on my shoulder slipped down, fingers reaching for the hem of my jumper. "I don't want to be your girlfriend," she whispered in my ear, leaning in close, pressing herself tighter against me, "I don't care who you fancy. I just want contact. Don't you, Scorpius?"

I closed my eyes when she pressed her lips on my neck.

"Aren't you tired of getting pushed aside by the only girls you love? Don't you want someone to touch you?"

I barely opened my eyes when her mouth was on mine. 

I didn't push away.

I didn't push away, even when her bathrobe came undone.

I didn't push away, even when the buttons of my trousers did, too.