A Yuletime Surprise [For Mafalda, others later(?)]

[edwardjameson]

It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear,
She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair.

Check the tie. Check the hair. Check the shoes. Check the hair. Adjust the jacket. Resist checking the hair again. Hurry up or you'll be late. There's no tellig how upset she would be if you were late. But what if you get there and she isn't there yet? You'll look like an idiot standing there, alone, dateless, a sore thumb in a sea of pinkies. So would she, though, if he kept her waiting, and then she'd be even more upset. Okay, check the hair one more time and you'll be good to go.

Edward made a run for the door, grabbed the doorframe to stop himself, and ran back into the room. Hurriedly, he grabbed a lily off the top of his bed, one enchanted to be silver with shades of black in it, and ran back to the door. When he got out to the corridor he did his best to maintain a regular pace, but he walked quickly, fancy shoes making loud, echoing noises in the mostly empty hallways. Three possibilities awaited him: a broken nose from a girl very disgruntled that he was late (even though he wasn't, but who knew what these girls thought?), broken pride from having to stand alone while he waited, or a nice meetup where everyone is happy.

He arrived right outside the great hall, spotting several known classmates all dressed to the eights; not all that many went the whole nine yards. Mafalda wasn't there yet, which was a mixture of relief and...not relief. There was a little bit of panic spreading throughout his brain. What if she didn't show? What if she got another date and just didn't bother to tell him? Why was he being so paranoid? He knew her. She wasn't like that. The look on her face when she asked him...she asked him...he knew there had to be something there.

So...wait it was, looking like a fool in his suit, clutching his lily like it was his anchor to the world.

[britkneeboo]

Here's to the nights we felt alive.

The Yule Ball had officially started, and like usual, Mafalda was running late. She had passed fashionably late at least fifteen minutes ago, and was now just late late. She was still sitting in her dorm, in front of her vanity mirror, staring at her flawless reflection that didn't seem so flawless to her. She had done everything she could do as far as her hair, makeup, and dress went. Now, she was just being picky. She ran her fingertips lightly over her silver necklace, drawing her eyes from the pointy end of it to the silver that was decorating the middle of the top of her dress. She took in a deep breath, and let it out, having to force herself to stand up from the vanity. She started walking slowly toward the door, dress trailing behind her only a little. She clutched the door frame and squeezed her fingernails into the wood. It was as if she were trying to keep herself from running back into the room and jumping into her bed, safe beneath the covers. Turning to look behind her, she took one last glance around the room and then left its safety to meet Edward in front of the Great Hall.

She had to descend a large staircase in order to appear straight in front of the Great Hall Doors. As she turned the corner to head down the last flight, she saw Edward not so patiently waiting for her. As soon as her foot stepped down on to the first step, she pulled it up and moved back. She leaned against the center pillar of the giant staircase, hidden in the shadow cast from all the candles, and took another deep breath. She suddenly felt like she couldn't get enough air, and as a few girls passed by her chattering and giggling about how excited they were, she realized how nervous she was. After her and Edwards conversation at the Quidditch Pitch she couldn't help but feel like he was always judging her. What if he thinks my dress is ugly. I mean it has a bow...and ruffles at the bottom..... she thought, covering her face with her hands. Or he'll think its too revealing or tight! He already called me a tart. Mafalda hadn't ever worried so much about what her date was going to think of her, but she had also never dressed up as seriously as she had for this years Yule Ball. She was growing up and hoping Edward didn't notice that she was.

Dropping her hands back to her side, she decided to play it as cool as she could. She couldn't keep him waiting forever, and was starting to feel stupid as another set of girls passed by her. Holding her head up high she dropped her foot back onto the step, rounding the corner, followed by her other foot. She was now standing at the top of the final set of stairs, and there was nowhere to run. "Edward," she said, hoping to get his attention. When he looked up she smiled and waved at him. Mafalda put her hand onto the rail and started her walk down to meet him. When she made it to the bottom she suddenly felt a great relief. At least she hadn't tripped or anything stupid. It was possible that she had been overreacting, but she didn't want to think about it. When she did the butterflies started fluttering again in her stomach. "Sorry I'm late," she said, stopping in front of him. "Hope you weren't waiting long."

[edwardjameson]

And then she asks me, "Do I look all right?"
And I say, "Yes, you look wonderful tonight."

It wasn't a particularly long wait. Easily less than five minutes. They were the longest less than five minutes he had endured in a long time. He felt silly holding the flower in his hands and had the urge to shrink to the floor and crawl his way back to the dorms as each group of people passed by. No longer was he even looking around, instead resigning himself to choose a fixed point on the other side of the hall and pretend that something really interesting was happening over there. In his head, he knew that absolutely nobody would have bought it had they seen him. Faith, though. He had faith she would come, and they would be able to keep the night from becoming a total disaster and they would have something to talk and smile and laugh about next time they ran into each other.

"Edward."

Mechanically, hopefully, Edward turned his head to look at the top of the staircase. There she was, and what a sight. A smile lit her face as she waved, flowing hair moving about slightly as her shoulder pushed it around. The candlelight gave her an orange glow as she descended the steps, and he remembered. He remembered being half conscious in the grass, smelling the sweet scent of an angel's hair, her breath tickling his nose. He remembered the butterflies, the excitement. It was what he imagined the beginning of love was like. The way she moved down the steps, the smile, what a beautiful smile. Her hand slid down the railing as she went, a guiding stone slab that would lead her to him. Pretty, gorgeous, stunning, lovely, beautiful, sexy, magnificent...he couldn't think how to describe it. Painful moments later she stepped up to him, face still radiating with that smile. "Sorry I'm late. Hope you weren't waiting long."

"You look wonderful tonight," he said. Until that moment he had been struck into silence and an emotionless stare, but finally a smile spread. The words had hardly entered his brain before they jumped off of his lips, and suddenly he was embarassed by it. A blush began to creep across his cheeks and he found himself afraid of how she would react. So, hoping it might deter some kind of snappy comeback or witty remark, he awkwardly held the lily out in front of him, a botanical offering to his one-night goddess. He had figured that getting a rose would have been a little too plain, and could only hope that Mafalda liked lillies. It was amazing how replacing a school uniform with a dress was enough to make Edward change from a sharp witted debater into an embarassed little onlooker, suddenly feeling luckier than every boy he saw walk through the doors to the great hall arm-in-arm with their dates. Suddenly feeling luckier than Ludovic. Luckier even than Lucius.

[britkneeboo]

Are you willing to be had?
Are you cool with just tonight?

Edward had been silent no more than five seconds. They were the longest five seconds she had endured the entire day. That was an extremely long five seconds, considering she thought the entire day had dragged by with excruciating slowness. Either way it was an evening full of long waits, and awkward pauses, and she was sure there were more to come. Standing there, she noticed the lily in his hand and tried to prevent the smile on her face from becoming any bigger. She wondered if he knew that they were her favorite flower or if it had been a lucky guess. The one he held was one of the most beautiful ones she had seen. The colors matched her dress perfectly and she suddenly realized how well silver and black went together. She only hoped she looked as nice in the colors as that flower did.

You look wonderful tonight.

Mafalda looked from the Lily up to Edwards face, and her smile did grow. He made her feel less anxious about her looks, and more comfortable. Even if he didn't think she looked that wonderful, she felt like she might. The excitement of the dance, nervousness of her looks, and flattery of his words all disappeared when she saw his face turn red. She knew right then that she had nothing to worry about. They were friends and they would have fun. There was no reason to be nervous or awkward, and she knew just how to break the ice. "Thank you Edward, you look red," she said, reaching up and running her pointer finger across his cheek. Her fingernail lightly caressed his skin, and the tip of her finger felt a mild warmth coming from it. "Even in Slytherin colors you manage to do your house justice."

Dropping her hand from his face, Mafalda took the flower from him as he offered it. She twirled its fragile stem in her fingers, debating where to place it. Her hair lacked anything special, just a hard-to-see clip to keep it gathered on her right side, and she realized the perfect place to put his gift. Taking one final look at it, she lifted it up and tucked it into her hair, about an inch above her right ear. It fell a little, but for the most part felt secure. When she was sure it was going to stay she completely let go and let her hand fall back to her side. Looking from him to the doors of the Great Hall, she listened to the music that escaped as another couple opened them and entered.

[edwardjameson]

We go to a party and everyone turns to see,
This beautiful lady that's walking around with me.

A great weight was lifted from Edward's shoulders as he saw her smile get even bigger. Suddenly he wished they didn't fight as often as they did, that they could do more than just tolerate each other on an occasional basis. Her pretty lips stretched into a smile, soft eyes squinted from happiness...it was a sight. He loved to see her face contorted with anger, eyes side and teeth ready to remove his jugular any moment. There was passion in it, her true self out for all to see. But this beautiful girl in front of him...was she any less Mafalda? Was it just what she wanted herself to be? Why was she any less herself when she hid herself than when she let it all out? Guilt began to well up in his stomach, guilt for all the times he had done things, said things he shouldn't have. It was the worst that day at the Quidditch patch, and yet without it they wouldn't have been meeting together for the ball.

"Thank you Edward, you look red."

Then it was gone. The guilt dissipated as he felt her finger brush his cheek, and he did all that he could not to turn his head in an attempt to stay in contact with her longer. Her jest wasn't taken the wrong way, and he smiled at her appreciatively. "Even in Slytherin colors you manage to do your house justice." Edward smiled and looked down, rubbing the back of his neck while she fitted the flower into her hair. She had actually complimented him on his looks; it had been ages since anyone said anything even remotely like that to him. The extra blood drained from his face and he was back to normal by the time he looked up, just in time to see her look to the doors.

"Thanks Mafalda. But you know I practically belong in that house anyway," he said, chuckling lightly. He offered one hand to her and reached out to open the doors with the other. "Shall we?" he asked, giving her a sincere smile. So far, so good. It started out as a good night, and he was determined to keep it that way. No anger, no arguments, just fun. And beauty. But really, what could spoil the beauty of the night? Mafalda only managed to look even better with the lily in her hair, and he told her so.

"The flower makes you even prettier. I hope you like lillies."

[britkneeboo]

In a day and a day love,
I'm gonna be gone for good again.

Another couple entered the Great Hall behind the previous one, and Mafalda felt herself become anxious to get in and see what all the rushing was about. She felt as if they were missing out, even though she was sure there was nothing but music that was too loud and groups of people trying to make conversation. Still, she wished Edward would offer his hand and allow her to join the others. It was a scenario like this one that she would normally become irritated in, needing the younger boys permission to do something, but at the moment she was feeling quite content. Hopefully it would last longer than she originally thought it would. Their greetings were over with. There was no need for them to be polite anymore, or was there? Weren't things like this all about treating each other with respect? Mafalda internally frowned at the thought of being complimented the entire night, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Finally Edward did what she had been waiting for him to do, and when she saw his hand she reached out to grab it. Their height difference made taking his arm an awkward task that she would rather not do. She was glad that he had obviously thought the same.

Thanks Mafalda. But you know I practically belong in that house anyway. Shall we?

Mafalda looked over at Edward, seeing him in the silver colors, and tried to actually picture him in Slytherin house. The image came easier than she had expected it to, this being something that made her frown. When she realized she was doing it she turned her head the other way, to keep him from noticing. Even though her and Edward got into arguments that weren't anything less than cruel, she still never thought he belonged in a house that seemed to get its fuel from cruelty. If he was Slytherin material then who was to say she wasn't? "We shall," she said, walking with him into the giant room.

The flower makes you even prettier. I hope you like lilies.

Mafalda almost jumped when she heard the large doors close behind them. She had still been thinking on Edward's remark about belonging in that house, but the loud noise brought her fully back to reality. She looked around, and once again felt a smile forming on her face. The Great Hall looked more amazing than she had seen possibly ever. Whoever had decided on the decorations deserved a standing ovation. It was beautiful, and she felt like they were truly walking into a winter wonderland, only with a more tolerable temperature. Once again her reply came a tiny bit belated, due to her astonishment at the condition of their surroundings. "Lilies are my favorite," she said, directing her attention back to him. "You don't have to keep complimenting me Edward. I'm already your date." Mafalda smiled, still surprised he hadn't managed to make her blush yet. Any other boy might have done just that, but there was something weird about hearing flattery from Edward. She didn't quite fully succumb to it.

[edwardjameson]

And then she asks me, "Do you feel all right?"
And I say, "Yes, I feel wonderful tonight."

Edward stepped into the great hall, happily hand-in-hand with Mafalda. He spent several moments looking around at the decorations, even more beautiful than was expected. Hogwarts always managed to outdo itself with these sort of things, and the Yule Ball was no exception. His eyes set on Mafalda, her face a perfect reflection of the awe she felt inside. Edward, on the other hand, found himself unable to look away again. To him, she was the winter wonderland, even if just for tonight. Inwardly, he was trying to figure out why he never saw this side of her before. She had always been attractive in his eyes, but it was just different this time. Things were different, and he simply couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Just before she turned to look at him, Edward did his best to make it seem like he hadn't been staring while she was marvelling. "Lilies are my favorite." Whew, good call there Edward. Stab in the dark just happened to turn out well...so luck might be able to carry him through this night, because things could get testy after this. Hopefully Ludo and Ravenna wouldn't pop in out of nowhere, that would soil Mafalda's mood very quickly. "You don't have to keep complimenting me Edward. I'm already your date." Well crap.

"Heh, sorry Mafalda. I was just...caught off guard. I'll try not to say anything else," he said cautiously, made warm by her smile. It was nice that she wasn't scowling, he was all too used to that. There was nothing more comforting to him, at that very moment, then the smile on her face. Normally when she told him not to do something it was more of a scolding than anything else. So, he returned the smile and gave her hand a little squeeze. Hopefully that didn't seem too...not platonic. Regardless of how he was feeling right now, he knew they were just friends. Hogwarts dances had a way of making people feel things a little bit more strongly than normal.

"Let's find a seat, hm?" he said, motioning toward the array of tables and chairs nearby. "And hey, if you ask really nicely I'll teach you how to dance."

Why did his stomach feel like it was eating itself?

[britkneeboo]

Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well.

Heh, sorry Mafalda. I was just...caught off guard. I'll try not to say anything else.

She wanted to tell him that wasn't what she meant, but she didn't really know how to apologize to him. It was much more comforting to think that they could still have misunderstandings. She felt so much better knowing that they weren't all of a sudden the perfect dates, just because they had dressed up a little. It didn't matter if Edward was in a suit or in jeans, he was still Edward and he was still perfectly capable of irritating her. It didn't mater if Mafalda was in a tight-fitting dress or in a sweater, she was still Mafalda and she was still perfectly capable of rubbing Edward the wrong way. It was nice that they were still perfectly capable of starting an argument, but managed to act civil when people were around. Who knew what would happen once they left the dance.

Let's find a seat, hm? And hey, if you ask really nicely I'll teach you how to dance.

"How do you know you'll have to teach me?" she asked, wondering how it had been so obvious. Maybe it was just a lucky guess again, like with the lily. Still, it was true. She couldn't dance to save her own life and usually just avoided it all together. In fact, she was rather relieved that he hadn't asked her to dance yet. The first place she wanted to go was an empty table. Mafalda took another look around the giant ballroom, this time looking at the people instead of the decorations. The room was already filling up with students that she recognized and didn't recognize, but she still didn't see anybody she knew really well. When she remembered that she could see Ludovic at any time, she decided to stop looking. If he had in fact shown up with Ravenna, it would make her night a lot worse than it already was.

Following Edward, Mafalda took a seat at the first empty table they came to. She didn't give him time to pull her seat out for her, because it was another gesture she knew would make her uncomfortable. It was weird how she had been so willing to pretend to be normal with him when she descended the staircase, but now she was starting to feel the pressure and resist falling into date mode. "I guess it shows? I'm not exactly the most graceful girl in the school," she said, giving a small laugh. "I like your suit." Mafalda lifted her arm and ran a finger down the buttons on his vest. It was the same finger she had used to touch his cheek, and she did it in a teasing way that was actually more to avoid invading his personal space. Mafalda smiled. "I think I like your tshirt and messy hair best, though."

[edwardjameson]

I feel wonderful because I see,
The love light in your eyes.

"How do you know you'll have to teach me?"

Oops. Inwardly, Edward slapped the hell out of himself for making that dumb comment. He didn't actually know if she could dance or not, but he knew for certain he was better than her; that was fine. Making an ass out of himself by mentioning it, that was the bad move. An mental three-sixty that brought him from complimenting her to indirectly insulting her. He was wracking his mind to try to figure out something to say, but couldn't think of anything. Instead he gripped her hand just a little tighter and began to lead her through the room, making for the nearest empty table. His first instinct was to pull her chair out for her, which didn't really work out since she saw fit to seat herself. He almost laughed, thought better of it, and took a seat next to her.

"I guess it shows? I'm not exactly the most graceful girl in the school." Did she complete that thought because she didn't care, or that she was tired of him not saying anything about it? Didn't really matter, she seemed alright. "I like your suit." Again with the finger thing. It felt good to be touched like that, and the fact that her fingertip was barely grazing him only made the sensation more intense. Punches to the jaw, he could handle without a thought; this was an entirely different element. Then she smiled. Did she have to smile? It was downright enchanting at this point, and he looked away to hide the look on his face. He briefly checked out the crowd, but it was impossible to pick out any faces he knew before he had to look back at Mafalda. It was getting increasingly difficult to remember that their relationship was entirely platonic.

"I think I like your tshirt and messy hair best, though."

He turned back to look at her again. A smile crept across his lips, then a chuckle escaped.

"Well thanks, lass. You're pretty, too. Without the dress on. Not naked, I mean non-formal clothes. I'm sure you look great naked too. Not that I think about it or anything. You know, the overall thing you do. It's cute," Edward said, his tone oddly confident considering he had pretty much been babbling like an idiot. He bit his lip, then said, "sorry, that was kind of weird. I just feel pretty good tonight." He looked into her eyes, hoping to see some kind of understanding there rather than disgust or offendedness.

[britkneeboo]

All my time is froze in motion.
Can't I stay an hour or two or more?

One of the reasons Mafalda had proceeded to 'play' with Edwards suit was because she was trying to change the subject away from dancing. Any way to avoid the blasted ritual was fine by her, and not talking about it was a pretty good start she figured. The other reason she had proceeded to 'play' with his suit was because she realized she hadn't told him that it looked nice the entire time they had been talking. He had complimented her like there was no tomorrow, which might have made sense considering the fact that once they were out of the ballroom there wouldn't be any reason for it. Who knew - maybe they wouldn't ever compliment each other after that night. It made the evening seem even more like a crazy dream than it already did.

Well thanks, lass. You're pretty, too. Without the dress on. Not naked, I mean non-formal clothes. I'm sure you look great naked too. Not that I think about it or anything. You know, the overall thing you do. It's cute.

Mafalda had never made so many facial expressions, in such a short amount of time, in her entire life. They ranged from flattered, to shocked, to amused, to uncomfortable, to amused again, and back to flattered. She wasn't exactly sure which one she was feeling one-hundred percent, but flattered and amused seemed to be the leading contenders. She hadn't ever heard Edward trip over his words like he was, and one thing she was also feeling that didn't show on her face was confusion. His attitude had completely changed, and she had no idea that it might have to do with one tiny little gesture. It was ironic that the gesture was intended to be taken the exact opposite way that it was. She pulled her finger back, despite not knowing what she was doing to him, and used it to sweep a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Simply shaking her head, Mafalda finally gave in to all of her emotions and laughed. It was a new kind of attractive, seeing him choke on his own word vomit. It didn't sound that attractive, but her feelings of him changed from the usual passion of anger to just thinking he was adorable. It made her laughter increase when she replayed what he had just said in her head. She couldn't stop the giggles. She was wondering if he had actually pictured her naked, or if it was just a misunderstanding. "Do you picture every girl you meet without their clothes on?" she asked, finally managing to stop her laughter, her smile turning to more of a smirk. She was so amused. "Do you imagine Narcissa naked to? I mean I've seen you looking at her before, staring. I bet you think all sorts of things about her, huh? Then again what guy doesn't. For being a total bitch I bet she could have her pick of any guy in this school. Rotten little princess."

[edwardjameson]

And the wonder of it all,
Is that you just don't realize how much I love you.

There was a mixture of relief and disappointment when Mafalda finally drew her hand away. He could focus a lot better without it there, but at the same time he missed the feeling that her fingertip brought to his chest. She was looking awfully nervous and the whole fix the hair thing she did with her withdrawn finger was a huge flashing sign that she was uncomfortable. Or so he thought until she burst out laughing. Again, it was relief and disappointment simeltaneously. The relief stemmed from the fact she had neither walked away nor caused him great physical damage, and the disappointment from the fact that he had managed to make her laugh at him. Again.

Still, Mafalda's laughter proved contagious and Edward found himself laughing too. It was pretty ridiculous, the way he just went on and on like that, always covering up one statement with one that needed covering up itself. Being slightly less amused by it all, Edward stopped laughing a good deal sooner than Mafalda; it made him uncomfortable. Finally, she too stopped and actually managed some words.

"Do you picture every girl you meet without their clothes on?" Not at the instant of meeting them, no. "Do you imagine Narcissa naked too?" Not in public. "I mean I've seen you looking at her before, staring." Staring? He didn't stare. Sure, maybe he got lost in thought when looking at her sometimes, but he didn't stare. "I bet you think all sorts of thing about her, huh?" Okay, he didn't even know where to begin on that one. "Then again what guy doesn't." He didn't like where this was going now. "For being a total bitch I bet she could have her pick of any guy in this school." Hey... "Rotten little princess." What gave her the right to say that?

"Hey," he said, speaking his mind. "What gives you the right to say that?" Sure, Narcissa had dealt Edward a pretty heavy blow with the careless and intentionally belittling way she refused him, but that didn't change much. "At least she knows when to say no. At least she knows how to say no. I'd rather have something that's rotten than something everyone else has taken a bite of," he said coldly. This was word vomit too, but it was aimed directly at her. It's what always happened; he said something that was probably much too harsh. Tonight had started out so well and managed to plummet off of a cliff pretty damn quickly. Come to think of it, why did he even say that? She was only kidding, after all. But she took it too far, didn't she? She should have known Narcissa was a very sore spot for him, especially after what happened. Sure, he hadn't told her about that at all...it didn't matter. What he said couldn't be unsaid.

[britkneeboo]

Here's to goodbye
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon.

It seemed it was now Edwards turn to make faces as she spoke. He looked like a mix of emotions was sweeping through him as she went on about Narcissa. She knew exactly what was going on in his head as she finished her mini-rant. It was something she figured out he did quite awhile ago, while paying attention to how he reacted and how he looked when he was thinking seriously about something. Maybe, she payed a little too much attention. There is a live commentary going on in his head, she thought, as she watched him choose his words. I'm sure he's got an opinion on everything I just said. She wouldn't have been too surprised if he decided to defend Narcissa, but she didn't expect what she got. She was only teasing him. How was she supposed to know that he felt so seriously about the Slytherin brat.

Hey, what gives you the right to say that?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing gave her the right to say that, but he was one to talk about rights. He talked bad about people the same way she did. Mafalda was certain he didn't think too highly of Ludovic, and she was also certain that the things he said to her weren't always within his rights. Another thing she was sure was fact, was that Narcissa made remarks about other people all the time, and most likely those remarks were about Edward if she had caught him staring at her as well.

At least she knows when to say no. At least she knows how to say no. I'd rather have something that's rotten than something everyone else has taken a bite of.

At least something everyone else had taken a bite out of was good and liked. If Narcissa was a rotten fruit, it was because nobody wanted to go near her. Nobody except Lucius, and he was no fresher. "No way," she said, shaking her head and standing up from the table. A few people from tables right next to theirs had heard what Edward was saying, and they were now watching Mafalda for a reaction. "I'm not doing this tonight Edward. I mean," she trailed off, trying to hush her voice so the onlookers couldn't hear, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. "...I'm just not, okay! As much as I would love to sit here and go at it with you, over who thinks this and who thinks that, I just can't do it here. I don't want to give people any more reason to talk about me, okay? It's pretty bad when I can't even talk to my own friends without hearing the news. Oh, yea I'm the school whore! Everybody thinks they know everything about me, but its just rumors. You defend your precious flower, but you help fuel the fire when it comes to lies about me. Kid, your fighting for a lost cause." Mafalda pulled the flower out of her hair, managing to mess it up some as she did. It was very odd, considering she had a charm on her hair to keep it from loosing its original shape.

"Maybe you should give this to a girl you actually want to be here with. Its a waste on me," she said, dropping it in his lap. Her attempt at being quiet was completely lost, but at least only the people close could hear her. After drifting so far her voice was drown out by the music and chatter. "Don't worry, we can just continue this the next time I see you. Your opinions of me won't go unsaid." Mafalda just let out a sigh, her voice finally back to normal, and shook her head. "I just can't." Turning around, she pushed her way through the small crowd that had formed between their table and the door, making her way to the exit. So many more people had come in behind them, and the hall was quite packed. Once she got to the doors, never once checking behind her to see his reaction, she pushed them open and practically tripped out. The noise from the dance went muffled behind her as the doors closed, and she tried to decide where to go to get away from everyone.

[edwardjameson]

. . . . .

The anger...why was it always so strong? It came in and swept his mind away, he couldn't think straight. Just as quickly it left, and he was stuck with feelings of guilt. He said horrible things...a lot of people say horrible things, but he had to face his victims. Talking behind someone's back is easy; even if they find out what you say about them, you don't have to be there. Edward was gifted with a front row seat to the pain of everyone he hurt, and Mafalda was practically a daily showing. Every time he saw her face fall it got worse, watching her radiant smile be twisted into a scowl or a frown, her beautiful eyes flushed with blood, her...oh, forget it. Even the most heartless bastard had moments of compassion, and never in his life had Edward wanted to take something back more than this compassionate moment.

"No way. I'm not doing this tonight Edward. I mean..." She paused. He cursed the nosy sods in the neighboring tables who chose to entertain themselves with somebody else's sadness rather than revelling in each other's happiness. He wanted to take it back, he wanted to take it back more than anything and he knew that couldn't happen and the pressure in his head made him feel as though he would do anything to take it back and he knew he couldn't. It was real life, you had to live with the consequences and there was no going back. Life wasn't going to give him a second chance, a redo on tonight. "I'm just not, okay!?" He twitched a little. Nothing he could do. He tried not to look at her face, but he couldn't help it. It was a hushed anger, a buried hurt, and he was involuntarily dragging it to the surface. "Oh yeah, I'm the school whore!"

No...don't say that. I told you you're not a tart, didn't I? I like you Mafalda, I've told you that. I think you're beautiful all the time. I like seeing you in the halls, I love to see you smile. I'm tired...I don't want to fight. I'm sick of fighting, but I can't help it. It's like a dream, where you will yourself to do something that you never do, and the only thing stopping you is your own mind...

I'm sorry Mafalda.

These are the words he wanted to say.

They never made it out. A lily fell onto his lap. She threw it there. It was black now.

"Maybe you should give this to a girl you actually want to be here with. It's a waste on me." I want to be here with you, Mafalda. I was happy... "Don't worry, we can just continue this next time I see you. Your opinions of me won't go unsaid." For the second time tonight he gripped the lily in his hands, desperate for something to hold on to. Something that could hold him in the moment. "Wait..." he breathed, inaudible."I just can't." And with that she was gone, turned to run off into the crowd and out of the hall. For a second he tried to decide whether he should follow her or not. Just for a second.

In another second he was halfway to the door, nearly pushing people aside to get through. The flower fell from his hand in the midst of the crowd, doomed to be stepped on for the remainder of the night. Edward shoved his way through the doors and looked around, frantically attempting to spot Mafalda. It didn't take long at all, but she showed no sign of braking for assholes. He did the only thing he could think of, he wanted to make things right. He reached her, gripped her by the arm to keep her from getting away. In his head, he struggled to keep his anger at bay. Even with his grip on her, with her attention back on him, he couldn't think of a word to say.

[britkneeboo]

Want to stay, not to go,
I want to ditch the logical.

Well, she was perfectly content just standing there. Standing outside the Great Hall, looking around with a stupid expression on her face. She was practically red, and if she were one to show emotion there would probably be tears already streaming down her face. Instead, she just looked worn out. It wasn't her style to cry, especially in front of people. Crying didn't do anything for you. It didn't solve the problem. Running from it didn't solve it either, but running did put it on hold, and right now she needed Edward to be put on hold just long enough for her to find a place to hide. When she was alone then she would think about what he had said, probably decide to apologize because it was her fault for bringing up Narcissa, and then vow to never speak to him again in an attempt to fix anything she had ruined between them.

All these plans were foiled though, the minute she heard the giant doors open behind her. She looked over her shoulder just long enough to see Edward standing in the entryway before she started walking again. She managed to make it almost to the end of the corridor before she felt him grab her arm. She wasn't exactly sure where she was planning on going, but it didn't seem like she would make it there that night. Running wasn't working out too well for her either, especially when Edward refused to let her go.

How can this be happening now? she asked herself, feeling something familiar. The warmth of his hand on her arm made her want to melt with it. Memories of their first encounter swam in her brain - the feeling of excitement as he pulled her into the dark, hiding her from the danger of being caught. The shiver that rushed up her spine as he placed his hand over her mouth, begging her not to scream and reveal them. It was all so romantic that it gave her chills. She hadn't realized at the time they met, but as he held her there in that empty doorway, waiting for the man to pass, she was more turned on by a boy than she had ever been before. Not now, not now! she thought, as those feelings returned.

"Let go!" she yelled, now unafraid to raise her voice. The corridor they were standing in was completely deserted. There wasn't anybody to hear them argue now. She could say whatever she wanted, whatever she felt. "You can't just march up and grab me whenever you decide you want to yell at me some more!" Mafalda tried to yank her arm away, but it only resulted in his grip tightening to keep her in place. "I'll say whatever I want about you or your precious Slytherin, and if you don't like it you can just stop talking to me. I have opinions Edward!" She was getting so angry at him, for things that didn't even involve that night. It was like every argument they had ever been in was coming to mind. "I can't stand you, I really can't! I just wish you'd shut up sometimes! You're a selfish, spoiled brat! Just grow up! Merlin, you're absolutely imposs-"

[edwardjameson]

Beyond the door,
There's peace I'm sure.

As he gripped Mafalda's hand in the darkness of the corridor, Edward's thoughts mirrored her own. He too felt a heat, coming from the Hufflepuff's skin and he held her in place. It was the same heat he felt when he pulled her close to him that night, covering her mouth to keep her from making any noise despite her struggle. Was it fear? Edward had never known Mafalda to be afraid in those kind of situations. Was she scared now? Did she feel threatened by the wiry fingers wrapped around her wrist? What if she thought he meant to hurt her? He could never live with hitting her...and he hoped she didn't think so little of him that she actually believed he would ever resort to physically harming her. If she was feeling the same thing that she did that night...the first time he ever enjoyed the sweet scent of her hair; he'd almost forgotten what, then maybe it was best to let her go.

"Let go!" Mafalda yelled. Loud. He hated being yelled at, and that was usually what got him mad at her. "You can't just march up and grab me whenever you decide you want to yell at me some more!" She didn't understand. She wasn't even trying to understand. If she weren't being so damned stubborn he would have a chance to explain himself. Instinctively, his grip on her arm tightened when she tried to pull away. The guilt was getting replaced by anger, little by little, and he felt just about ready to explode again. The more angry she got, the more angry he got. "I can't stand you, I really can't!" Alright, she wasn't even yelling at him about tonight any more, she was targeting him now. "I just wish you'd shut up sometimes!" Likewise, bigmouth; he wasn't the one yelling. "You're a selfish, spoiled brat!" Count to ten...one. "Just grow up!" ...Two. "Merlin, you're absolutely imposs-" Alright, forget this.

Her eyes were wide with anger, her hair messed up, and her voice cracking from yelling...this was the Mafalda that he knew. Now he couldn't take it. Years of back and forth screaming, neither ever gaining a scrap of ground on the other, was coming to a climax. He stopped her from talking.

No, he didn't kiss her.

Yet.

Edward angrily shoved open the nearest door to reveal an empty classroom, almost eerie bathed in moonlight. He stepped inside and pulled her along, then pushed her up against the desk nearest the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he may have had more sense than this, but his brain was hardly running the show anymore. Finally, his hand released its grip on her arm then took a hold of the back of her neck...gently. Things got blurry. Their lips met.

The anger was gone.