Hey Stranger, I Want You to Catch Me Like a Cold

I pinned half of my hair back, linked arms with Hermione, and headed down the steps.
Ron and Lavender were down on the couch making out big time when Hermione and I got downstairs. The sight was so revolting that Hermy didn’t even notice Cormac standing by the portrait waiting for her. Or maybe she didn’t wanna notice him. Anyway…

I decided that this snogging (Ahh, I used a British word there, see) had to stop.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, are you trying to become father?”

He unlatched his lips from hers. The sound was akin to a plunger unblocking poo from a toilet, I noticed with displeasure.

“Whaa?” he asked confusedly.

“You aren’t American, so it would be soooo completely socially unacceptable for you to become a baby daddy at this ripe young age. Cut it out, good fellow!”

Lavender was me a look like-‘Silvie you know I’m on birth control stop disrupting my vibe and let me get it in’.

Ron’s look + red face was more like, ‘Well, this is mortifying. I’ll just go kill myself now.’

I let out a big gasp. “No. You guys don’t think I’m talking about Ron knocking Lavender up, do you? No I’m referring to the first years that prance around in the moonlight nude, slipping on some Ron juice and becoming impregnated.”

*silence and cricket noises*

“What are you talking about?” Asked Lavender. She seemed to be getting rather pissed.

“You guys didn’t know that the little firsties prance around naked in the moonlight? I hear them at night. Like little fauns in Narnia, dancing, dancing…”

Why do I always get such weird looks?

I sighed. “Moral of the story, kids? Keep it in yo pants. Silvie, out. Deuces.” And I exited the common room and a giggling Hermione.

I hummed to myself as I headed to Slughorn’s office. As I stepped in, Sluggy spotted me right away and hurried to greet me.

“Miss Davenport, how delightful to see you looking so lovely, my dear.”

“Yup,” I nodded, not quite sure how to escape him.

“Well don’t just stand there? Where’s your date? Dance!” he gestured to the dance floor, where numerous couples were swaying to the soft music. I kind of felt a pang inside, not quite sure why.

“I don’t have a date, Professor,” I said bracingly, “Now will you please direct me to the hors d'oeuvres?”

Mmm, hors d’oeuvres.

After settling myself in the corner with a plate stacked with little appetizers, I surveyed the scene in front of me. There were couples at tables, chatting merrily and holding hands. Couples in the dance floor, in tight, swaying embraces. Couples whom it seemed have given up on moving around at all, and just settled on making out. Oh, and we can’t forget the couples over there standing, talking to other happy couples. Couples, couples, couples. How fucking cute.

I looked at the table closest to me, where a blonde guy was whispering into the ear of his pretty date. She blushed and giggled. Probably saying a bunch of dirty crap to her, or corny, about how she looked beautiful and he loved her. Pffft, love. What a load of bull.

Those idiots don’t realize how lucky they are. To be able to be together, no complications. No psycho family members, or Voldemort to hold them back. I’m hypothetically speaking, that is.

As my eyes glazed over as I gazed at them, I started to realize how similar they looked to another pair. The male, with blonde hair, blue eyes, the female, a brunette with a twinkle in her eyes…

But I guess that’s the whole point of love, isn’t it? To love, and be loved in return? To pledge yourself to the person, no matter what? Despite the problems that may arise, shouldn’t love conquer all? Doesn’t it? Isn’t it worth all of the strife and struggle, just to be together? Maybe-

“Silvie! There you are! Silvie?” Hermione’s poke took me out of my reverie.

I shook my head, dazed. “Uh, what?”

“What were you thinking about? You were really out of it,” she observed.

“Erm, nothing. Nothing important.”

“Oh, anyway, I just escaped Cormac for the third time in a row. He’s like a cobra, honestly, just keeps striking out of nowhere. Oh! See you later!” And she disappeared as McLaggen rounded the corner.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is not love.

I stood up and walked across the floor, but was stopped by Harry and Luna.

“Silvie, you look sparkling this evening,” Luna commented.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked.

“Thanks, Luna. And I’m just gonna head out. This scene really isn’t my thing. Have fun, though.” And they bid me farewell as I took my exit.

I spent the next hour, just wandering the castle in my dress and shoes. What a sight I must have been. I eventually ended up in the astronomy tower, though I’m not sure how. One moment I was walking along the second floor, and the next I was on the top step. What I really wasn’t expecting, though, was a figure to be there as well.

“Draco,” I said with some surprise. “What brings you up hear on this blistery night? I thought you had top-secret things to do?”

He turned to look at me, opening his mouth, then closing it again. Opening, then closing. Like a fishy. Eventually, he got ahold of himself.

“I’m done for the night.” Then he returned to looking over the grounds.

“You know what?” I asked, reaching over to take off my shoes and throw them to the ground. “Me too.”

“How was the party?” he asked.

“Meh, not really my thing. What is my thing, you ask? Well-”

“I didn’t ask,” he said, still not looking at me. “I know perfectly well what your thing is.”

“Well?” I demanded, looking at the back of his head, “What is it?”

He turned around so fast it freaked me out, already being up so high. “You want to know what your thing is, Davenport? I’ll tell you exactly what it is.”

I nodded at him. “Go on.”

“Your thing is being a bitch,” he started angrily. “It’s letting blokes who pour their hearts out to you, who are in love with you fall by the wayside like you don’t even care. It’s being the most attractive and alluring girl in the whole school, then acting surprised when blokes admit said feelings. It’s keeping your own feelings locked up inside you and not letting anyone in. And do you know what it really is?”

“What?” I asked quietly, with my eyes glistening dangerously.

“It’s being fucking in love with me but being to over-analytical and just a general damn pansy to come out with it. That is your thing.”

He pushed past me, headed for the door.

“Hey!” I called out. He kept walking, so I threw one of my shoes at him. “I’m talking to you!”

“What?” he hissed, getting up in my face.

“Do you wanna know what your thing is?” I demanded.

He just glared at me.

“Being completely right.”

A drop of silence, followed by Draco’s stunned face while I pulled his face towards mine.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the last thing that was said before we kissed.