ruins ; harry potter [1]

thirty one ; partying

As the days grew colder and December started to approach, Diana's good mood had inevitably diminished. She still felt better than she had, but she was not nearly as chipper as she was on the day of the Quidditch match. She had, though, grown increasingly close to Hermione and Ginny. The two were expertly avoiding Ron, which by association meant they were avoiding Harry, so Diana had taken the liberty of being the third friend in the now completed trio. She was still on good terms with Harry, of course, but he felt it difficult to get away from Ron, so she didn't see him as often. Ron had been determinedly avoiding Diana, most likely in fear of being severely yelled at.

Diana had just been talking to Severus quietly in the empty Potions office about Draco Malfoy, and was now walking through deserted corridors and up empty stairs on her way back to her bedroom. She rounded a tight corner, and ran smack-dab into a hard body, and she stumbled but caught herself in the last moment.

She looked up, and Harry was watching her with alarm as he helped steady here.

"Fancy bumping into you here, Harry," she muttered. "Pun intended."

Harry grinned. "How has Hermione been?" he asked seriously. Though Hermione nor Harry were not explicitly ignoring each other, they had both just been caught up with other things and didn't see each other as often.

"She's hurting," Diana said after a moment. "She tries to hide it, but I can tell."

Harry looks down in sadness. "Ron's being a real git," he said. "He's being really mean to her."

"I know," said Diana quietly. "I haven't seen it first-hand, but if I do, I'll hex him into next Tuesday."

Harry laughed lightly, and then his face morphed into one of anxiety and nervousness. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and stuttered, "Uh--I, uh--wondering--"

Diana watched him with great amusement as he fumbled for words. He looked like he wanted to bolt from her, but she put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from running away.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Slughorn's Christmas party," he said quickly. "With me, I mean."

She smiled lightly, but a lump appeared in her throat and she couldn't breathe very well. She wanted to go with him, very much, but this was exactly what she was afraid of. She was going to die so he could live, and she could not let herself or him become too attached. She knew it was for his own good; at least, that's what she told herself.

Apparently, she hesitated too long, and he mumbled something about 'nevermind' and began to hasten away.

"Wait!" she called, and he reluctantly came to a stop and turned. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'd like to go with you to the party. I've never really been to a party before."

He beamed at her, and looked almost like he was bouncing with excitement. "Yeah, okay!" he said. "Okay, I'll, uh, meet you in the entrance hall at eight, then?"

She smiled at him and nodded, and after much contemplation of whether he should walk away, he left with bouncing strides and out of sight.

She chewed at her fingernails, her stomach tightening anxiously. She couldn't do this. She couldn't get too attached. She knew she couldn't.

But, alas, Diana Riddle was always a sucker for temptation.

So, with quick strides, she all but sprinted into the empty common room and up the stairs to the girl's dorm. She nearly knocked Hermione's dorm door off of its hinges, and Hermione, who was in there alone, nearly fainted.

"You scared me!" she breathed with a laugh. She took in Diana's panicked appearance. "What's wrong?"

"Something horrible has happened," she whispered, and Hermione looked worried. "Harry just asked me to the party. I said yes."