My Immortal (But It's Slightly Better)

Chapter 2

The room is only slightly lighter than the inside of my coffin - typical for the Scotland weather, though a bit too bright for this part of day. Did I oversleep? Trying to shake the grogginess away, I push myself out of my coffin, only barely stopping myself from tumbling to the floor, before realising that Willow's watching me, snickering.

"Took you long enough." she says, flipping her pink-streaked hair. She's fully dressed, wearing a slightly too-tight Marilyn Manson shirt paired with a black mini skirt and the most painful looking stiletto-heeled boots I've ever seen. To be honest, I'm slightly jealous - I wouldn't last a minute in heels that long, let alone make it through a hallway on Hogwarts' uneven brick floors.

I roll my eyes. "What's the time?"

Willow grins. "Just before lunch."

"Shit. Why didn't you wake me up? Shit!" I start getting panicky - no, I don't have the best reputation among teachers here, but if I'm skipping class, it better be to smoke or something.

"I figured it'd be funny to see how you reacted." Opening our shared wardrobe, she picks out and throws me a dress - black and leather, of course - and matching fishnets. "I was right."

I pull my hair into a messy bun and throw the oversized MCR shirt that double as my pyjamas away. Willow and I have been friends even before Hogwarts, so I have no shame changing in front of her. "Fuck you."

Though I'm famished, I take some time applying my usual makeup - foundation, eyeliner, lipstick, all of it. Being late to lunch doesn't matter, and there's a little voice in my head telling me I shouldn't go down to the Great Hall looking like total trash.

"So," Willow goes up the stairs first, holding the door of the Common Room for me to slip through as well, "That thing with Draco Malfoy yesterday."

"What about it?" Draco Malfoy... sure, I liked him when I was twelve, but so did every other girl in Slytherin and probably a third of the dumbass preps in the other houses. And, okay, he's a sixth year - one below me - but that's common in Hogwarts. You try finding a date out of the 20 boys in your year, especially when more than half of them are preps or posers. Point is, I can consider Draco Malfoy. But it's also Draco fucking Malfoy. I'm not sure if he'd consider me.

"Do you like him?"

We're quickly approaching the Great Hall, so I decide to take the easy way out. "..No."

"You hesitated."

"I didn't." We sit down, side by side.

"You like him."

"I so fucking don-"

He sits down right in front of me. Speak of the devil and he shall fucking come, I guess. Draco looks about the same as he did yesterday, but at the same time, something's changed. He looks - taller? More determined?

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Guess what?"

"What?" What a riveting conversation this has been so far.

"I wanted to ask you this yesterday, but, um..." he glances at Willow, who's more or less stabbing him with her eyes. "I just so happen to have two tickets for the Good Charlotte conc-"

"NO. WAY." Honestly, I blocked everything he said after Good Charlotte. Other than My Chemical Romance, they're my favourite band, and I've wanted to see them live since third year.

I manage to catch the end of his (extremely run-on) sentence: "...So, yeah, basically I have two tickets, and there's only one of me, so I wanted to know if you would like-"

"What?"

"-To go with me to the concert?"

I gasp. A little too loudly, apparently, because at least three people turn around to see if I'm alright and Willow digs her elbow into my stomach.

"Yes. YES. Please."

"This Friday."

"Alright." I don't know how I'm sounding so calm right now, because inside, I'm screaming and crying and laughing all at once.

He smiles, getting up. Did he even eat? Does it matter? "It's a date, then."

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AN: Thanks again to Raven for helping me with the chapter and her general support of my writing! Also, a message for you preps: this story isn't for you. I bet you don't even know who Amy Lee is - so get the fuck out of here, and stop leaving hate comments!