The Life After [f.w/d.m]

Chapter Five.

"Mother says we can crash at home for Christmas. We'll basically have the west wing to ourselves, asides from meals and the ball on Christmas Eve."

"Sounds good, mate. Thanks for that - rather not spend it at home."

"Your father still the same then, Enzo?"

"Doesn't ever change, does it?"

"No. It never does."

-

The last two weeks crawled by.

Each days hours felt like twice the amount of minutes and each minute felt like three times the amount of seconds.

Ron's party didn't take long to approach and it was the only thing keeping Nova looking forward to the weekend.

Friday evening included her and Pansy skipping dinner to complete all their homework in the library, leaving the weekend for party and drinking.

"Have you got much left? I'm all done - fucking finally!" Pansy asked, leaning over her shoulder to see how much she'd written.

"Last paragraph, the boys are so gonna regret not doing this."

"Draco's probably on top of his, Enzo needs to and Blaise and Theo were more interested in getting drinks and probably weed for the party and Christmas."

Nova rolled her eyes in response, some things really never change.

Normally the things that need to change most, but that'd be a conversation for another time.

They grabbed their quills and ink pots, waving the books back onto the shelf spots they came from before walking back in the direction of the dungeons.

"Me and Draco broke up." Pansy announced abruptly. "Not that we were ever officially together, but you know what I mean."

"Oh Pans, really? Are you okay? I'm sorry why didn't you tell me?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It happened the other night, just wasn't working. Plus he's got a lot coming up - can't be fucking girls, needs to be focusing." She spat bitterly.

"He's a wanker, Pans. Come to Hogsmead tomorrow morning, we'll get breakfast and go shopping, make him regret it."

"You're paying then."

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't, come on, we might be able to grab the last bit of dinner!"

And for some odd reason, as she dropped her books on her bed, she yelled behind her, "race you!"

And for an even odder reason, Pansy chased after her, out of the door and through the many halls that lead to the Great Hall, refusing to let her out of her sight.

Both of them landing in a pile just outside, out of breath from the running but breathlessly laughing and their stomachs hurting, from a stitch or the endless things found funny: they'd never know.

An onlooker, or a passer by may have looked at them and thought them crazy.

Maybe an in-patient who'd escaped from St. Mungo's.

But no, it was two girls who were coming to realise just how precious time was.

How limited the seconds on the clock were.