Something Golden

17.

December 25 1995

"And then I just said Merry Christmas Granger, when did I become such a prat?" I groan, rubbing my face with my hands. Myrtle rests her hand on my knee, though I can't feel her touch at all. Sometimes I genuinely believe she forgets that she's dead. I've spent nearly all afternoon with her, analyzing every moment from last night.

"If things don't work between the both of you, you know I will always be here." She smiles, leaning her head on my shoulder as she bats her eyes up at me and giggles. "Er-thanks Myrtle, I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Standing, I offer her my goodbyes as I exit the lavatory.

I've avoided every area where Granger could possibly be the entire day, I haven't a clue what to say to her. As I stroll the corridors, her gift held tightly in my hand, I attempt to process everything. She's always occupied a space in my mind, most containing her bent over a desk as I take her from behind but now she consumes nearly every thought. I want to hold her, protect her, be the one who makes her laugh and is the one who comforts her when she's sad.

The idea of love has always made me laugh, it always seemed like such an idiotic fantasy. Dating in general was never something I entertained, I never saw a point in granting someone the ability to hurt you. Shagging a girl a few times and then never speaking to them again has always been the route I've preferred. No strings, no emotions, no responsibility.

Granger has always been an object of desire for me sexually but at some point over the past couple of months she's managed to turn me soft. At night instead of fantasizing about burying my face between her breasts I find myself envisioning her and I just laying together, fully clothed while we both read our books. I mean what the fuck is that about?

In what world could her and I possibly be? We don't make sense together but yet we do. I think a part of me has always had some sort of devotion to her but I've always chalked it up to just being teenage hormones. But when I saw that man touch her shoulder, the extreme discomfort written all over her face, I knew then that no matter who else came into my life they would never be able to take her place. I would never feel this way about any other witch.

She's too good for me though, she'll never see me the way that I see her, no matter what I do. Granger has a nauseating tendency to always look for the good in everyone, even if there is none to be found, but that doesn't make her blind to their true character. I'm only ever going to be the damaged kid who has a fucked up family and is destined to play the villain in her and her friend's lives.

If the most I'll ever be is her friend then so be it. It feels like I'm swallowing acid whenever she refers to me as such but the pain is worth having her in my life.

As I enter the library, fully knowing that she'd be there, I take a deep breath before approaching her.

"Granger, there you are I-what the fuck is that ghastly creature?" My eyes darting over to the ginger haired ball shaped beast sat on the table.

"My cat, Crookshanks." She tells me, her tone slightly offended.

"That is no cat. It looks like it consumed a cat and attempted to take its form but failed miserably."

The furry gremlin leaps off the table and strides over to me, rubbing its odd face against my leg. I try to shoo it away with my foot but it remains attached.

"He won't hurt you." She giggles.

A deep, almost threatening sounding meow escapes its small mouth, my eyes widening. "Are you sure about that? I don't speak demon but that certainly didn't sound like a friendly hello."

She rolls her eyes at me as she laughs, bending down to pick him up. "There, better?"

"Immensely."

"Was there something that you needed Malfoy?"