𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐃.𝐌

Chapter Eleven

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TWO WEEKS. It had been fourteen days, three hundred and thirty-six long hours since she'd last talked to him.

It did feel awfully long.

Especially because she felt guilty. Yes, guilty. Even though she didn't like to admit it.

It had started the day after their fiasco in the Astronomy Tower; there was a gut-wrenching feeling in her stomach, as if a bowling ball had been shoved into her throat, and was now sinking lower and lower, eagerly rushing for that pit in her stomach. The next thing she knew, she was darting glances at him every time she passed him, her cheeks burning hot.

Shame and guilt.

She knew she shouldn't have felt any of it, but she did and it felt horrible.

As if matters weren't bad enough, she'd noticed – during her staring sessions – that he was accompanied by Pansy Parkinson more often. No, it was worse than that. Wherever he was, she was. They were stitched to each other like Siamese twins and she hated it.

"Did you practice the wand movement?" said Hermione, lightly touching her arm. Eden snapped back to reality and mumbled an awkward yes.

She flicked her wand, and fire sparks erupted out of the tip. Hermione and Luna scrambled away from her, covering their knees.

Beads of sweat dripped down her temples and she looked up at them from under the scorching sun. Luna and Hermione gave her questionable looks.

"You didn't," said Hermione bitterly, clearly not pleased with her faint lie.

"I'm sorry," Eden sighed. "It's too hot, Hermione. It makes me feel ill." She looked away from the sun, only for a second, and that's when they caught her attention.

Jet black hair contrasted with alabaster skin, and beside her, equally stunning, lingered Draco Malfoy. He wrapped an arm around Pansy's neck, which made her seem small and yet still, powerful.

Eden's stomach turned with resentment but she couldn't look away.

Pansy's amber eyes slid over to her, and their eyes met. She wondered how such a warm color could seem so cold. She shot her eyes away.

"It's not real, Eden," said Luna, her voice light and dreamy. "He's trying to get to you."

Eden stifled a gasp, sent her gaze downwards, and felt her heart race in her chest.

She heard the newspaper crumbling in Hermione's hands, "What?"

"I have to go feed the Nifflers, Hermione. If you'll excuse me."

Luna took off and, Eden looked from her lap. She chuckled nervously. "Weird one, that is,"

Hermione squinted, looked at her suspiciously, and then snorted. "Right."

She returned to reading.

Eden cleared her throat, focused on stilling the beating of her heart.

That was close—

Hermione gasped. "I can't believe the rubbish that comes out of this newspaper—

She slammed it down on the overly dry grass, pointed a thin finger at one of the headers.

"THE BOY WHO LIES STRIKES AGAIN!"

"It's Skeeter! Of course, it is!" said Hermione, fuming. "I reckon she needs to be taught another lesson!"