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It was late afternoon and I decided on skipping lunch today. I wasn't overly hungry, and my appetite always seemed to be less and less every day. Maybe it is because every day is just one ticking away as the pressure of the time bomb implodes on me. I am like a bird trapped in a cage with no way out other than succeeding in what I have been captured to do.

I was enjoying my book when the crunching of footsteps on leaves pulled my attention elsewhere. I look up and see a brunette wearing bright red lipstick and black shades. She smiles at me and pulls her glasses off. I am caught off guard by the familiar emerald green daggers staring at me. Pansy Parkinsons.

We were best friends right up until the war. Not as close as Greg and I, but she ranked high in my circle. Pansy was the best friend every girl wanted, and I was the alliance everyone wanted, although I didn't realize that until it was too late. She befriended me in the first year, we got closer in third, and updated our status to best friends in the fifth year.

Everyone was scared of us; the unbreakable bond of powerful psychopaths, if you will. We would party together relentlessly, and neither of us was sober for more than three days during our sixth year. Seventh year is when we had to sober up. War was closing its dead;y claws on us and forcing decisions that no sixteen-year-old should've had to make. Then we found confidence in each other during the darkest part of it all— when the ministry fell.

She told me that no matter what, she would stick with me. Apparently, she said that in the confidence that Voldemort would win and she would have the security of me and my family to fall under. She was wrong. 

When everyone thought Harry died, and the choice of sides was given, I stayed put. Pansy gave me a condescending look and then spat on my shoes before stalking over to Voldemort's side. I begged her with my eyes to turn around and honor her words, but she merely glared at me.

I gave her a cold look and said nothing. She took it upon herself to speak.

"El," She smiled.

"Shut up you lying pug-faced bitch," I scoffed at her and stood up from my sesated position on the grass. 

Her face contorted in uncomfortable anger, "I suppose I deserve that," She comments.

"I suppose you do. Actually, you deserve a lot more than just that, but-" I start, but she cuts me off abruptly.

"Okay, I get it," Pansy huffs out. "I come to offer peace. I'm having a party in the room of requirement. Invite only," She explains. I roll my eyes, but she pushes onward. "We cannot hate each other forever, come tonight, make peace with us; the gang misses you," She smiles at me. Plastic and fake.

I grab the letter from her hand calmly and give her a smirk, "I would love to come, Pans," I drawl out.

Quickly, I walk off and open the card. The envelope is black with a red wax seal. I quickly peel it off and open the actual invitation. In Pansy's perfect cursive, words are scribbled elegantly across the card.


A.R.L.,

My dearest friend, I have invited you to an exclusive party. It is invite-only and will be held in the ROR at 10:00 Tonight. Please join me and the gang, it will be good to have everyone back together again. 

For old times sake?

Much Love,

Your dearest friend.


I read the words and laugh. My dearest friend? What friends betray each other? If she refers to us as friends, it is simply and purely one-sided. The underlining of specific words is enough to make me cringe, and I shove the letter away. I decide to go. It is a good way to exact my revenge on her.

The Marriage Law//Neville LongbottomWhere stories live. Discover now