Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING.
Author's note: I apologize for the long amount of wait, school has started, and it's a tad crazy, but I promise that this fic will be finished! Patience!
This just so happens to be one of my favorite chapters so far. You'll understand later. :)
Enjoy!
The day passed by quite uneventfully. Blaise and I avoided each other, even during meals, and Harry wouldn't even look at me.
If I was to say things were going well, I'd be lying.
The high Draco had left me in was all I needed to make it through my classes, though, so I breezed through my lectures and presentations. I even made Mel laugh on a few occasions as we walked to and from the Great hall for lunch. I was seemingly ok.
That was, until dinner. All day, I had been wondering what Draco had been talking about. There must have been something quite important for him to come all the way to Hogwarts to speak with McGonagall, a woman he openly hated. It had to be something he cared about. Draco wasn't one for pointless conversation.
So, once I walked into the Great hall a few minutes early, my eyes scanned the High table for the headmistress, but she had not yet made her appearance. This was something to take note of. Minevra McGonagall had always been incredibly prompt for everything. I even recall her handing out a lecture to Weasley and Potter one year for arriving a few minutes late to a transfiguration class. She was not one to dilly dally among the halls.
I made sure to sit near her seat, however, and sat with excitement. Whatever she had to announce, it meant Draco was taking me as a date, and that could only be good, right? Maybe Draco had come around to the thought of us.
I shook my head, smiling, and looked to the doors as they opened and a very late McGonagall stepped into the hall. The entire room quieted as she made her way to the podium. My heart beat quickly. Excitement in my veins.
She stood with her back to me, but I could still picture her stern gaze on the students as she commanded their attention.
"Good evening," she began, sounding uncharacteristically tired. "I have a very exciting announcement tonight that I wish to share with the staff and students of this school." She cleared her throat a little and began again. "It was brought to my attention this morning that a certain tradition of Hogwarts has been forgone since decades past, and a seemingly fair argument was brought forth to revive it."
I froze, entirely curious. Draco was that argument, but what could he possibly have charmed his way into?
"As of this term, a mere eight years since the end of the second Battle of Hogwarts, we will host a Halloween night ball in honor of tradition and the war veterans." I, along with most of the people in the hall, looked to the most obvious war veteran in the room, who was now flushed crimson with his head in his arms, the tell tale sign of his flush could be told by the pink tips of his ears. I smiled despite the fact that I knew Harry did not like this idea. "Now, now, students, calm yourselves, there is more: As is tradition, only sixth and seventh years, along with a date of their choice shall attend this ball." McGonagall hadn't finished when there were sounds of outrage at her announcement. The lower years were clearly distraught. "Quiet, you lot!" the headmistress shouted, reigning the crowd at bay. "Of course, there will be many war veterans in attendance, along with your very own professors and their dates." From my left, I heard Blaise scoff, I didn't really care why. My smile was unavoidable.
Draco was taking me to this ball by choice. He could have chosen Ginny, but he was taking me, and that was all that mattered at that point.
I tuned McGonagall out as she started to list the rules and the formal wear requirement for the ball, and looked to Harry. We caught each other's eyes for a moment. He was expressionless as he stared back. I made an attempt at a small smile, but he looked away and back to McGonagall. I had forgotten, momentarily, about the fact that I had decided I was going to leave him alone. I had grown so accustomed to his smile, it felt almost cold without it.
I turned to Blaise, then, and tried to vouch the status of our friendship, but he wouldn't look up from what looked like a very interesting conversation with Mel and Anthony. I sighed and waited for the food to appear on my plate.
And took notice of the pain that scratched itself to the surface again. Except this was a new breed, a more vicious, unforgiving kind that left the tips of my fingers tingling with smarting pain.
I looked at the Slytherin banner above its corresponding house and tried to will myself to do anything but clutch at the spot that was so familiar, and new to me.
My knuckles went white as I drew out the pain and clutched the table for support.
The entire school buzzed with excitement after McGonagall's announcement. The younger years grumpily stated how it wasn't fair to be left out, but they were repeatedly told that they would have their two years of attendance once of age, it still didn't appease them.
The sixth and seventh years rushed to get dates, and all throughout my upper year classes, things exploded and sang as invitations to the ball. It was sweet, really, and reminded me of the year the Yule ball had occurred, which, in turn, brought up the memories of being Draco's date to that ball also.
Draco did eventually send me an owl with the color he was wearing, a dark midnight blue that he stated would compliment both of our fair complexions, and even a swatch of it to take with me shopping. I, however, had no need to do such a thing. I could simply send my measurements and the swatch to any of my mother's French designers and receive a dress within weeks, which I'm sure Draco had intended me to do anyway, he knew I never went shopping for clothing.
So with my dress being designed by one of the best French wizard designer old, pureblood money could buy, I was free to think about how good Draco had always looked in blue.
And to worry about the new panic attacks that kept dragging me under.
The weeks until Halloween flew incredibly fast. Blaise was still avoiding me; he had even pulled Anthony and Mel to his side. They'd sit together at meals and laugh obnoxiously loud so I would overhear. Obviously, they were taking the mature route.
Harry was far worse, however. If I entered the room, he'd leave immediately. He sat as far away from both Blaise and I as he could, sometimes even getting to meals far earlier than anyone else just to get the far end seat by Neville and Slughorn. He knew I would never voluntarily sit next to Neville Longbottom. He did our patrols without consulting me about going along, but simply walked out of our common room without a word and stayed out as late as he could. It was as if we were strangers. Worse, it was as if I were invisible.
I made sure to remind myself that it was what I had wanted. I was going to tell him we couldn't be friends anymore, but I had never expected him to take up the offer without having to be asked.
I didn't want to admit to myself that it hurt so much because I missed him. His smile, his awkward flushes or when I'd touch his arm or his hand, his child-like love of candy, and the way he ate everything on his plate as if he'd never see food again. I didn't want to miss his warm skin, and his suffocating hugs, and the way he looked at me, as if he cared about everything I said. The way he'd smile when he saw me after a long day, or the arm he'd throw around my shoulders as we walked back to our common room. I missed my friend. I missed Harry. But I wasn't going to let that be known.
I knew I had screwed everything up, but I had never expected him to leave me alone. I suppose I had grown accustomed to his presence. And, as much as I had fought to battle out the emerging fondness of the Gryffindor, he fought to wiggle his way into my thoughts, and my actions. I couldn't think without wondering if Harry felt the same way, if he missed me too.
Of course, I didn't miss him. I was just lonely without Blaise. Right.
Hogwarts became an incredibly lonely place without my friends. Even as the excitement over the ball raged around the corridors and in classrooms, I had never felt more alone than I did when my friends began to ignore me.
It was funny, in a way, though. When I was a student, I had been considered relatively popular. I had plenty of people that considered themselves my friends; all of Slytherin groveled their way into my presence at least once during the seven years, plus the year we all returned to Hogwarts for our 'seventh year', I had spent there. And, although I was nearly surrounded by people who wanted to be associated with me on a constant basis, the only two people I actually cared to be around were Draco and Blaise.
Losing Blaise was like missing an arm.
Draco hadn't seem fazed by his arguments with Blaise. He never seemed fazed by arguments with anyone. I, however, knew that if I didn't fix whatever was between us, it'd be too much pain to handle, another panic attack to come up and hinder me a useless, ball of pain.
Maybe I didn't feel the same way for Blaise as I did Draco, but I did love him. He was the one that cared for me after Draco began to work his way through the Slytherin female population. He protected me from the people in other houses, defended me when he'd hear comments about my nose. And although I hated him most of the time because he couldn't help but meddle in other people's business, he was still a very important part of my life. I didn't have many people that loved me because I was who I was. There were never any pretenses with Blaise, he knew every single inch of the dark side of me, and he still loved me regardless.
In ways Draco could never be there for me, Blaise had been, and I knew I needed to amend our broken friendship. I had to.
The best way to Blaise's heart is through his feet.
The man loves shoes.
Blaise Zabini most likely owned more pairs of shoes than I did, and I am a very avid shoe lover.
So, a pair of custom-made Hungarian horntail dragon scale dress shoes in size 10 would definitely do the trick.
It didn't take an hour after placing them outside of the portal of his common room for him to track me down while I was making lesson plans in the library.
"What are these?" Blaise asked with wide, serious eyes, holding up the shoes I had purchased for him with a hand.
I looked at them and then shrugged. "Shoes, I guess." I turned back to my papers with a smirk, knowing I had won him back.
He gasped shortly and sat down across from me, gently placing the shoes on the table. "These are Hungarian horntail scale shoes that are most likely the only of their kind, Parkinson. They are not just shoes. They are heaven, and you must be wanting to apologize if you had them made for me." He raised his eyebrows and put on a sickeningly sweet smile.
I didn't look up from my papers, but nodded. "I'm sorry."
He stretched out a hand and put it over mine; messing up the word I was writing and causing me to look him in the eye. "Are you going with him? To the ball. Draco asked you to be his date, didn't he?" It was more a statement, he clearly already knew, but I sighed and nodded anyway.
"Is it so bad, Blaise? He did take me to the Yule ball, I don't see how this is any different." But it was. And I knew that.
Blaise took his hand off mine and crossed them together on the tabletop. "But it is, Pansy. We aren't fourth years anymore. He has a girlfriend, Pansy. A girlfriend. One he told you that he loves, and you-well, you and Harry-"
"Me and Harry what, Blaise?" I hissed angrily. Why was everyone implying that Harry and I were anything more than friends? "We were never more than friends, and barely that."
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, I've known you for too long to take that utter bull shit, Parkinson. Suck it up and tell the truth, you like Potter."
"No I don't!"
"You find him attractive." He stated.
"N-well, yes, but-"
"And you've missed him since you stopped talking." Another statement.
"Yes, but I have Draco." I attempted at defense.
"And Draco has Weasley."
"That's besides the point!" I spat, throwing my quill onto the table childishly.
Blaise sighed, irritated. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"
I stopped short, confused at his outburst. "What are you talking about? Everyone?"
Blaise sighed again and rolled his eyes. "You lot. Harry said that you loved Draco, and I told him Draco loves Weasley, and he said 'that's besides the point'" Blaise grimaced and shook his head.
"What are you talking about, Blaise?" I asked, even more confused. "Why would Harry care if I loved Draco?" as far as I knew, Harry could care less about anything to do with me.
Blaise's head snapped to look at me, and his eyes widened. "Um," he laughed awkwardly. "No reason." He smiled sheepishly.
I frowned. "What do you know, Blaise?"
He raised his hands, waving away my questions and shaking his head. "I don't know anything. Nothing. Stop asking me, I'm mad at you." He averted his gaze.
"Blaise Zabini, I gave you the best pair of shoes you've ever had, now you tell me what you know." I glared at him.
He ran a hand through his hair and sagged against his seat. "Harry's going to kill me." He sighed tiredly and sat forward with his face in his hands. "There's something you need to know about Harry. Something he doesn't want you to know." He mumbled.
I nodded, though he couldn't see me, and egged him on. "Yeah, ok, what is it?"
He looked up from his palms with tired eyes. "Promise not to tell him I told you?"
I considered it for a second, smirked and nodded. "Sure."
He cocked an eyebrow at my response. "I don't like that smirk of yours."
"Just tell me."
"Harry-er-he told me that…" he looked me straight in the eye. "Harry told me he loves you."
I sat up straighter suddenly. "What?"
Blaise furrowed his brow. "Did I not say it loud enough? He said he-"
"I need to go."
"What are you going to do?" he asked, getting up as I did, and stepping forward warily.
I couldn't look at him, my mind raced with questions, screaming thoughts. My hands trembled as I fought the urge to run. "I-I need to talk to Po-Harry." I attempted to breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth, but to no avail.
"No, you're going to stay here and calm down first, you're shaking, and you are pale, bloody hell, Pansy, you're freezing!" Blaise gasped as he took one of my hands and tried to pull me to him to calm me down.
"I-I need to g-go, Blaise, I'll s-see you later, ok?" I made to turn, but he still held my hand in his grasp.
Blaise pulled me back to him, putting his free hand under my chin to force me to look up at him. "What are you thinking?" That was by far the hardest question anyone had asked me in a long time.
I squeezed my eyes shut, partly to escape his penetrating gaze, and also to attempt to organize any semblance of coherency to let him know what my mind was processing. "Blaise," I whispered, pleadingly. "H-Harry," was all I could get out.
And then suddenly, for the first time, Blaise drew me impossibly close and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. It wasn't desperate like Draco's or warm and lovely like Harry's, but I found my arms clinging to him in support.
"You are my…best friend," Blaise whispered into my hair as he held me close. I stared off past his shoulder, but couldn't quite see anything. I didn't respond, and he didn't say anything either as we stood, clinging to each other out of whatever comfort we both needed.
I was in full meltdown mode.
"Pansy!"
I turned at the yell of my name from somewhere in a seemingly empty corridor, but relaxed as I saw Henry turn the corner and jog up to me, stopping just before we collided, breathing heavily.
"I-" he heaved a breath in. "Called you right as you left the library-" another heave. "Did you not hear me?"
Frowning, I shook my head. I hadn't.
Henry was about to say something, but stopped when he seemed to come to realization. "Wait, what's wrong with you?"
I stared into his chocolate brown eyes and then sighed. "Nothing."
He narrowed his eyes and looked me up and down, causing me to feel instantly self-conscious. Could Henry sense my impending breakdown? "I don't believe you." He ran a hand through his dark brown hair after a moment of scrutiny and shrugged. "If you don't want to tell me, that's ok. I have to ask you something, though."
I raised my eyebrows as a sign to continue and he did. "I overheard a few fifth year Gryffindors talking about you the other day, I just wanted to clear a rumor up really quick."
I sighed. "No, I am not pregnant, nor am I a vampire." Old news.
Henry seemed confused for a second. "Wait…what?" he shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. No, they were saying something about you being yelled at by Draco Malfoy in the entrance hall during breakfast a couple of weeks ago." I froze. "I was just coming to you first to confirm that you have nothing to do with that smarmy git." Henry's tone was angry.
Henry and Draco had never liked each other. Henry more so after Draco had brought Tracey Davis to our family trip to Spain he had been invited on when we were 14. I had cried myself to sleep all 8 nights.
Shaking my head, I sighed again. Maybe the constant sighing was how he knew. "He wasn't yelling, we were-"
"So he was here? Malfoy?" Henry was trembling.
"Calm down, Henny. He was the 'argument' for the Halloween ball." I stated, rolling my eyes and wanting to be anywhere but here, talking to my brother about the last person I wanted to think about.
"Four things:" He held up four fingers. "One: Don't call me Henny. I'm 17, not 5." He ticked off each finger as he went. "Two: Why didn't you tell me about the ball beforehand? Three: Why the hell are you defending Malfoy? And four: Why aren't you sitting at meals with Harry anymore?"
I looked at up at Henry, angry at him stalling me from my bed. "Ok, four more things:" I held up my four fingers. "One: I'm your big sister, Henny. I'll call you what I want." I poked him in the chest with my pointer finger after I ticked it off. "Two: I, along with all of the professors, found out about the ball when you did." I poked him with my middle finger. "Three: I'm not defending him, just stating facts." I poked him with my ring finger. "And, four: not that it's any of your business, but Harry and I are no longer speaking." I poked him with my pinky.
He rolled his eyes. "You stupid bint, you still love Draco, don't you?"
I hit him on his arm. "Don't call me that, I can take house points away."
He laughed and hit my shoulder. "I dare you, and you didn't answer my question."
"I don't see why it's any of your concern." I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged.
"What about Harry?"
"What about him?" I shrugged.
Henry gaped at me. "You're serious? You're going to choose Draco Malfoy over Harry Freaking Potter?" he laughed incredulously.
"What's wrong with Draco?" I asked, slightly defensive.
Henry rolled his eyes again, it seemed to be his trademark move. "He's a poncefor one, and he hurt you. That's two things. The list continues, and spans over about 22 years of you knowing him, I could state everything if you want."
"You're just being a prat." I snarled.
"No, I'm being your brother and I'm telling you the truth. You choosing Draco is a bloody stupid idea. You're supposed to be the smart one." He shook his head as if disappointed.
"I'm not choosinganyone!" I whispered sharply. I wasn't. There was no way that in the state my muddled mind was in, that I could make any good decision.
"Yeah, ok." Henry rolled his eyes again. "You keep telling yourself that." Henry obviously was missing the fact that I didn't want to be in the hall at that moment, or talking about anything that he wanted to. He had always been obtuse.
"Shut up and go to bed, Henny." I groaned, finally fully annoyed with my brother and his accusations and incredibly bad timing. When he scowled but didn't move, I pushed him and whispered harshly, "100 points from Slytherin."
"Tu ne voudrais pas." He narrowed his eyes. You wouldn't.
I smirked at him. "Try me."
His eyes widened and he started to shuffle back. "Ok, ok, I'm going! Don't get your knickers in a twist!"
I laughed as he ran around the corner to his dormitory. My brother was a pain in the arse.
I made it to my room a few minutes later. It was a short distance, and I had too much on my mind to stop or really take in my surroundings. Once through the brick wall, I didn't even look near the fire, I could see the glow of it splashing shadows against the wall, but I wanted to sleep, and so I trudged through and made it to my door handle before I heard Harry shuffle on the couch in front of the fire.
I froze, almost instinctively, but didn't turn around. If I looked at Harry anytime soon, or opened my mouth to speak, I knew I'd have some breakdown, which I'm sure wouldn't play well into the night's events. I needed sleep, and a nice, long sob before bed.
Shaking off whatever effect Harry's presence had on me, I continued my walk to my room a little fast now, desperate to escape any conversation Harry was hoping to have. Being shouted and glared at would do wonders for my mental state. Or cause another panic attack. That didn't need to happen.
"Pansy," Harry said quietly, breaking the silence.
I froze again. Damn legs. There was only a few meters of space between me and the door to my room. I could make it if I ran, and a nice locking charm on my door would keep out any unwanted Gryffindors. But harry didn't let me finish my plans of escape.
"Pansy," he repeated, this time a little closer. He had stood and taken a few steps in my direction when I was planning my dash to bed. I didn't want to speak, afraid I'd end up a sobbing mess, so I turned my head slightly over my shoulder, careful to not look at any part of him, as I mumbled in response. He seemed to take that as his answer and took a step forward. "Can I talk to you?"
He sounded exhausted. I began to tremble. I shook my head, hoping to make it look like I was adamant that we avoid all forms of communication, but it only came out to be a pathetic shake. He went on anyway. "We haven't talked since Malfoy came and basically peed on you to get me to stay away," he said, with an awkward chuckle.
He was referring to Draco's attempt to embarrass me as an act of ownership. I had decided in the weeks since Draco's appearance that he only defended what was 'his' because he'd rather do jumping jacks with a blast-ended shrewt than have anyone he was associated with have anything to do with Harry Potter. He didn't want to date me, or take me to a ball, he simply wanted to keep an eye on me and Potter out of the way. I couldn't help but scowl at the memory of the blonde. I loved him, but I desperately didn't want to.
"Pansy?" Harry asked lightly, bringing me out of my mental interruption. I snapped my head back, hurting my neck a bit, and finally looked at him. Merlin, I had missed him.
"What Draco said," I began, surprised that my voice was audible. "It's not something you should pay attention to." I attempted a smile, but I couldn't stop my mind from rolling around the topics that were blatantly obvious.
Harry loved me.
Harry loved me.
For some unknown, unfathomable reason, Harry Potter loved me.
He stared at me, with grass green eyes, and a confused expression. "He acted like he owned you, and you just stood by and let him be that way." He said, running a hand through his messy hair quickly.
I gulped. He loved me. "What was I supposed to say? 'No, Draco, stop, Harry's a nice guy!'?" I did a bad imitation of my own voice and then frowned. Being overly sarcastic might make him think I don't know. "I stood by because I'd rather let Draco think he has control over what I do than to actually exercise my free will in front of him. He's not the easiest to deal with." I did a nonchalant shrug. Draco would excommunicate me from his life if he ever found out that Harry loved me. He'd never speak to me again. I hated myself for the knowledge that that would hurt more than having him tell me what to do. At least when he's being incredibly bossy, he's around. It shows he cares, in his own, sick Draco way.
"So what, you just let him boss you around? You do it willingly?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer to me.
I instinctively took a step back, not wanting to be closer to him, and also desperately needing sleep. "He's my friend, Harry. I love him." I shrugged and tried to look anywhere but at his hurt expression.
"Last time I checked, Hermione wasn't making me do anything against my will, or telling me who to speak to." He muttered.
I watched as he took a step closer, and this time, I didn't back away. He put his hands on my shoulder. "We have different definitions of friendship, Potter." I said to the best of my ability with him being so close. He loved me.
Harry chuckled and leaned down so that our foreheads were touching. Everywhere his skin contacted mine, I burned. "We have different definitions of a lot of things, Parkinson."
My ability to think coherently entirely disappeared as his warm breath fluttered across my cheeks. I nearly collapsed there. "W-well, that's a-a g-good th-thing, then. B-because i-it'd be b-boring if we a-always a-agreed on e-e-everything." I stuttered out as my gaze fell on his lips that were mere centimeters from mine. If he leaned in any closer…
"I've got to go to bed. 'Night!" I practically shouted out as I stumbled out of Harry's arms and ran the remaining distance to my bed, safely behind my magically locked door, and away from certain Gryffindors.
Certain Gryffindors that loved me.
I could hear Harry's chuckle from outside my door as I huddled under the covers and prayed he wouldn't say anything. Of course, as usual, my prayers went unheard.
"'Night, Pansy," he said, I could tell from his tone that he was entirely too smug.
I grabbed my wand from my bedside table and poked my head out from under the heavy blanket from the bed. Scowling in Harry's direction behind the door, I made to do a silencing charm when Harry continued.
"Oh, and Pansy," he said, sounding as if he had begun to walk away, but had turned around to add something. I froze. He wouldn't. "I love you." He would.
The resounding whack as my wand fell from my loose fingers and onto the hard, stone floor must have been audible from Harry's position because his laugh could be heard until the sound of his door shutting left me in silence. I didn't pick up my wand, or mutter the silencing charm, I simply squeezed my eyes shut, and began the scheduled breakdown.
Sobbing myself to sleep did wonders for my dreams that night.
Whether it was merely aftershock from actually hearing the words from his mouth, or the fact that I couldn't accept the reality, I avoided Harry to my best ability. I also wondered if it would always be like this, an avoidance game between Blaise, Harry and I. Purposely avoiding them was beginning to be tiresome. I wanted things normal like before Draco showed up, or certain things were revealed.
Certain feelings were told.
I made a mental note to pretend as if I hadn't heard what Harry had professed last night. That didn't meant that I would speak to him willingly. In case he decided to talk about it, or, Merlin's beard, repeat his statement.
That was the last thing that needed to happen.
So during classes, I made sure to lock the classroom door until my students were dismissed, and even to engage a student or two in a lovely conversation about extra credit, or their homework. Of course, Harry wouldn't be having that. He made a point to walk me to and from the Great hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and even to make his way to the Charms corridor between passing periods to have a conversation with me.
I preferred him when he left the room as I entered. At least then I didn't have the blaringly obvious topic to think about.
It wasn't that I didn't like Harry, he was a very attractive man, no doubt, but he couldn't love me. He had only, truly known me for a few months, during which, we had had several fits of not speaking to each other. The thought that he could even possibly feel anything towards me of the romantic sort was nearly laughable. This was Harry Potter we're talking about, the boy who could barely speak if Ravenclaw was brought up during school due to his insane infatuation with that Asian one…Chew or something. He was simply confused.
I made a point to bring up such points during his walking me to lunch, which had him laughing and claiming he was merely a school boy then, and that there was no possible way he couldn't love me when we were so 'perfect' for each other. I had to make sure to check my gag reflex.
"When you say things like that, you sound completely ridiculous, like a fool, Harry." I shook my head at him and walked a little faster to avoid passing students hearing our conversation.
Harry didn't take the hint though, and quickened his pace until he was in step with me, and threw an arm over my shoulders. "A fool in love." He whispered into my ear.
I stopped walking abruptly and pushed him off of me. "Ok, seriously, stop!" I shouted, causing a few passing walkers to stare. "Stop with the touchy feely stuff, and the walking me to meals, and the cheesy lines." I pleaded, biting my lip in frustration and taking a deep, steading breath.
Harry laughed. "This is what love is, Pansy. Notice how I'm not controlling you, or telling people not to look at you?" he asked, gesturing around in the now empty hallway. "This is how someone who loves you treats you. They hold your hand in public," he stepped forward and grabbed my hand for emphasis. "They tell you how they feel, and aren't afraid to sound stupid, or foolish." He lifted a hand to my cheek, and smiled as he ran his fingers along my jawline. "They care about you, and tell anyone they can about their love for you." He stepped back and tilted his head back with spread arms. "I love Pansy Parkinson!" he shouted.
I grabbed him by his lapels and glared. "Stop." I snarled. "You don't love me, Harry." I pushed him away, wanting to be anywhere but here in this conversation.
"Why not?" he asked, seemingly confused, but his face looked hurt.
I sighed, and bit my lip. "Because you aren't supposed to love me." I said, gesturing between us and shaking my head. "We're friends, good friends, and that's great," I said, smiling. "Let's keep it that way."
Harry frowned. "This is because of Malfoy." He stated, shaking his head and looking off towards the doors of the Great hall. "You can't love me because you only love him."
Clenching my jaw, and attempting to remain calm, I sighed. "This has nothing to do with Draco, Harry. This is about you and me. Us." I didn't deny that I loved Draco. I didn't need to. Harry would be able to tell it was a lie.
Harry scoffed. "Yeah, ok."
"I'm serious." I gritted my teeth, not wanting to get angry.
He shook his head and looked me up and down, just like Henry had. "Prove it." He crossed his arms over his chest, daring me to deny his accusations.
I could have ran, or made some believable excuse, but I stood there, hopelessly thinking of someway to prove to Harry that Draco had nothing to do with this. Whatever I said, harry wouldn't believe, though. He knew, somehow, when I was lying.
So I didn't lie.
I didn't say anything, in fact.
In a last-stitch effort to defend my sanity, I pulled Harry to me, again by his blazer's lapels, and crashed my lips to his, forcing a surprised, mumbled sound from his throat.
And I swear, in that moment, stars exploded.
Author's note 2.0: Pansy's insane mood changes will be fixed soon, I promise. So...Harry loves Pansy...Pansy doesn't know what she thinks...Pansy kisses Harry...What?
Next chapter: The ball. Dun dun dun.