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      When Nova awoke the next morning, there was a lightness about her that she couldn't explain. Even Parkinson, who was angrily glaring at the wall because today was the day students left for break and that usually entailed an uncomfortable Malfoy-Nott dinner, noticed that Nova had a spring in her step, and questioned her about it when Nova made her way over to her trunk to make sure she had everything she needed.

      "You seem happy," Parkinson said, eyes narrowing into slits. "Did something happen between you and Draco?"

      "As I've said before, Parkinson, nothing is going on between us." Nova tried to slow her movements, however, as to not seem overly eager and raise questions that even she didn't have the answer for. "I'm just happy to go home, is that a crime?"

      "Yes," Millicent Bulstrode commented as she walked into the dorm from the bathroom, her hair neatly done as opposed to Nova, who had just thrown her own hair up into a ratty ponytail. "Especially because I hear you complain about your house more than anything in the world. What's got you so happy, Nott?"

      Nova ignored the two of them, folding up a shirt and placing it in her trunk. It was the last article of clothing she'd have to pack to her return home, so she closed her trunk and charmed it locked before situating the plain black top she was wearing for the ride home. It was after Nova had plopped herself onto her trunk and zipped up her boots that she heard Bulstrode let out a gasp that had her jumping. "Merlin, Bulstrode," Nova complained after her heart had regulated back to its normal beat. "What's wrong with you?"

      "What's wrong with me?" she retorted, her face screwing up in happiness and laughter. "I've figured out what's wrong with you! You're all giddy because of a bloke." Parkinson shot Bulstrode a look, which the latter quickly waved off. "Come off it, Pansy, it's not Draco. Nova looks like she wants to Avada herself when she's with Draco. This is a completely different bloke, and you fancy him!"

      "Bulstrode, I have no idea what you're talking about," Nova replied, rolling her eyes. That's what Bulstrode had concluded? That she fancied someone? Nova didn't fancy people. Her experiment with Malfoy had proved that. She just wasn't capable of feeling that way for someone. And there was the added fact that the only boy who could be considered a romantic interest in her life as of late was Weasley, who Nova couldn't fancy even if she wanted to. He was too good. He was on the side of his best friend. She automatically fell into the category of the Death Eaters because of her father. 

      "Yeah, right," Bulstrode mentioned with a smirk that suggested she didn't believe a word Nova was saying, which was very annoying to the Nott girl. "Whatever you say, Nova. When you realize that you're capable of fancying someone, come talk to me."

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