Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Fifty-Six

"Three dementor attacks in a week, according to the Daily Prophet. Damn...." Mirah shook her head as she read through the Daily Prophet for the third time that day, slumping back into the sofa. We were sitting together in the common room, trying to burn our way through our mountain of homework assigned during the day. Mirah had gotten distracted as usual, but I was bent low over my Herbology essay, writing furiously.

"Oy!" Mirah said angrily, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah," I answered, ignoring her fingers and finishing the sentence I was writing.

Mirah retracted her fingers, staying silent for a moment before she sighed, saying, "You're more sadistic than I thought," referring to my reaction toward dementor attacks — or rather the lack thereof.

Unamused, I glared up at her, and she smirked, her hands flying up in surrender.

I sighed, averting my gaze back to my essay. "Maybe you should focus on your homework since it's, you know, the reason we're here."

Mirah rolled her eyes, picking up her Spellbook and flipping to a random page. "You know, just because you actually have a career in mind doesn't mean everyone does."

I peered up at her curiously. "I thought your dream was to be one of those sexy waitresses?"

Mirah rolled her eyes, blushing slightly at the reminder of this career choice. "Yeah, well, I don't need to ace my exams to do that, do I?"

I laughed, shaking my head as I returned to my essay. "You could just go for your original option and get knocked up right after graduation."

"As I said before, I kind of need a boyfriend for that," Mirah replied, unfazed. She glanced up at me with a smug look, adding, "You, however, could go for that option. Tell me, what're you and Draco getting up to these days?"

I hid my blush by bending lower over my essay, not willing to admit that she was more accurate than she thought she was. It was true that Draco and I had been riskier lately, but it wasn't like we'd actually gone and done it, no matter how badly I may want to....

I tried to distract myself from my innermost desires by focusing on my essay, but my attention had drifted elsewhere, my mind far away in a distant dream where Draco and I did more than just snog. Just imagining the sound of his ragged breathing was enough to make my stomach flip over.

"Speaking of Draco...." Mirah's voice brought me out of my sinful daydream, and I glanced up at her fleetingly, wondering if she'd guessed where my mind had wandered to.

But her expression was confused, and her eyes were searching the common room curiously. "Where is he?" she asked, bringing her gaze back to me.

I frowned, looking around too. She was right; Draco was nowhere to be seen.

Oh, right — he was probably at the Room of Requirement again.

I shrugged, making an I-don't-know sound, but it must have been an obvious lie because Mirah peered at me suspiciously. But to my surprise, she averted her gaze after a moment of contemplation, evidently deciding against asking about it.

I appreciated her respect toward my secrets, even when she knew I kept them from her — she never did that before, after all; she almost always demanded to know everything because, "best friends don't keep anything from one another."

But maybe she'd realized the times had changed, and the prospect of never having secrets was no longer a possibility.

"Hey, keeping secrets from a friend is one thing," Mirah said quietly, and I looked up to see her watching me carefully, looking concerned, "but if your boyfriend is keeping secrets from you... that's what most people would consider a 'red flag'."