the kiss list, adrian pucey
𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐

chapter twenty-eight, THAT'LL BRUISE

✧ ━━━ · ✦ · ━━━ ✧

AND JUST LIKE THAT, DECEMBER WAS FLYING BY LIKE A WELL folded paper airplane, and Christmas Eve was as clearly in sight, as were the stars at the end of the telescope.

Adrian was dateless and feeling slightly like a lonely wreck, and Bianca was still avoiding the one particular guy who wanted to be her date. And despite her success so far, she knew she'd have to face Malcolm Preece rather soon. And yet, none of that changed the fact that any mention or spotting of anything remotely related to the Hufflepuff house, felt like someone had taken a wrench to her stomach.

All was going swimmingly.

On the positive side of things, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood had officially labeled themselves in a relationship, and Bianca had set Angelina up with a date, that she believed to make a perfect match. Both girls had chosen beautiful dresses, and the idea of going as a lone wolf, actually made Bianca a tad more excited for the ball than she cared to admit.

"Checkmate," she said, as the wooden piece, clattered onto the board, finalizing Adrian's defeat.

Adrian let out a very audible groan, expressing his frustration, "Oh for fu-"

As he swept his arm across the board, knocking a few remaining pieces onto their side, Bianca interjected, before he could finish his sentence, "I'm not sure whether that language is necessary." Adrian huffed again, and Bianca couldn't help but observe how childish he looked with his arms folded, and a far from happy look on his face. Bianca leaned back in her chair, "You need to be less clumsy with your moves. Think ahead. Be more observant." she said.

Adrian's eyes narrowed to a fine point, "Nah, you're just cheating."

Bianca scoffed, "I'd be intrigued to know how I would be doing that Adrian, but I think you're just too much of a sore loser to admit that you're just not quite on my level of expertise, regarding the art of chess." she motioned out to the board before them, the rest of the library silenced with peace, before bringing her arms into a fold.

Adrian pushed off from the back of his chair, and rested his elbows on the desk, "I'm not "quite" on your level?" he repeated her words. "Does that mean I'm approaching it? Does that mean you think I'm improving?" he smiled sarcastically.

Bianca sighed, "I don't find it difficult to admit that yes, Adrian, yes, you have improved."

Adrian put a hand over his heart, his head tilting to one side, "Aw."

"Yes, you've improved coming from having no clue as to how to play the game, and now, well, I guess you could say that you are almost on the brink of being nearly qualified to be named an "amateur"." she mirrored his once sarcastic smile.

Bianca glanced quickly at her watch, and with the notice of the fast ending lunch period, she began to collect the individual pieces, and pack them all together in a wooden box,

"I think I'm better than you care to grant me," Adrian said, assisting her in compiling the carved and painted wooden chunks into the box.

With the clattering of the pieces, knocking against each other and the walls of the box, an absence of talking had resumed.

Once Bianca had folded up the board and slid it over the top of the box, to act as a lid, Adrian sat up straight once more. "So," he dragged out, "you got a date to the ball yet?"

Bianca hauled her bag onto the desk in front of her, removing her from Adrian's view. "No." she shook her head, emotionless. "I already told you, I'm going on my own. I haven't changed that." Bianca stood up, and Adrian watched her head appear from above her bag that was still resting on the table. "Like you said, "independence at its finest"."

Adrian couldn't deny that he wanted to go to the Hogwarts Christmas ball that was announced to celebrate however many years it had been since the school was originally established, with the same Gryffindor that had pledged herself to autonomy, and swore against ever going with a date as company. He knew he would never, could never even ask the girl to be his date because the rejection wasn't just likely, it was inevitable. And yet, it was taking everything inside of him not to ask, just out of curiosity.

It really was all going swimmingly.

Adrian nodded his head slowly, his eyes losing focus, "Right. Good for you."

Bianca slung her bag over her shoulder, and Adrian too now stood up, "What about you?" she asked.

Since his eyes had lost focus, it was followed by a brief daydream, and loss of an idea of what was going on in the current, "What about me?" he asked.

"Have you got a date?" Bianca turned in the direction of the door, and Adrian joined her side, bag over his shoulder, and the two began wandering out of the library, and into the flow of students in the corridor.

Bianca didn't have a date. And that was known. And there was nothing wrong with that. If anything that was great for her. And yet, Adrian was embarrassed by the fact that he too didn't have one. Because that wasn't a choice. Had Adrian had the choice and had the world been a perfect place, where everything went right, and no bad was ever done, Adrian would have had a date. And that date would have been Bianca.

But she wasn't. Adrian didn't have the choice, the world was certainly not a perfect place, not everything did go right, and a lot of bad does happen in a world like the Wizarding one.

Besides his friends, Adrian hadn't told anyone that he was dateless. And he wasn't planning on telling Bianca either.

"Oh," Adrian's mouth hung open for a moment, "yeah, yeah, I've got one." he bluffed.

He'll think of something. Eventually.

"Oh really? Well, I'm sure he or she can't wait for when the time comes that you walk them onto the dance floor, and whisk the night away with your flawless skills in the ballroom." Bianca teased, with hand gestures and sarcastic looks to wind him up.

"She is going to be blown away by moves," Adrian said, with confidence. "You can bet on that."

Bianca sighed, exaggeratedly. "Well, she's one lucky girl, I'll tell you that."

Adrian wished she wasn't just making a joke. Oh, how Adrian wished Bianca wasn't just making a joke.

"You do of course owe me a dance," he spoke, as they trudged through students, eddying around crowds.

Bianca scoffed, rotating her head to look at him, "Excuse me?"

Adrian shrugged like it was nothing, a smirk pulling on his lips, "Well yeah. I at least deserve one three-minute song."

"Says who?"

"Says me. Trust me. I'll be better than whoever you are planning on dancing with." Adrian found himself unconsciously nudging her side, leading to her slight imbalance on foot.

Bianca found herself seeing nothing wrong with the playful shove, "Well I don't yet know who that will be." she hummed.

Adrian hummed too, "To be determined then."

"To be determined," she repeated, nodding once in his direction, a smile planted across her face. She tugged on his robes, pulling him down a corridor, and into another stream of pupils. "Speaking of dance skills, let's put those master moves to the test, shall we Adrian?"

Bianca let go of his robe, and he followed her lead, which was now clear to be en route to the Great Hall. Adrian's eyebrows knitted together. He wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. But he sure knew what he hoped it meant. "Uh okay?"

Bianca paused, noticing the unsureness in his voice, and the smirk on his face. Her gaze tightened and she stared into his pupils. "I'm going to ignore what you thought I meant by that statement because I assume that it is far from what I mean and is no doubt inappropriate." she smiled sarcastically.

When it was clear that he still in the dark regarding what she meant, Bianca tried to encourage him, "Dance lessons? With McGonagall? The whole year group has them in like ten minutes?" she feebly motioned to the Great Hall doors coming up in front of them.

Adrian exhaled, with realization, "Oh, crap yeah. That's gonna be embarrassing." the pair made a start on their stroll across the few feet they had to walk to make it into the Great Hall. "Why do they think we need dance lessons anyway?"

"I don't think that you're one to wonder - I don't doubt that you've got two left feet," she said, before parting ways; Bianca walking over to an already seated Maxine O'Flaherty and Adrian in the opposite direction to his group of already seated boys.

The Great hall had lost its tables, and the chairs were all evenly split, half lined up on one side, the other half the other side. Much like the time that Lockhart held his "dueling club". Bianca refused to go after only trying it once - the man was useless. Adrian didn't see much point in going again after that if Bianca was going either.

"You and Adrian seem rather close," the Hufflepuff lifted her chin, her eyes tapering.

"Nope, he just seems to follow me everywhere I go. A bit like a clingy shadow-type thing." Bianca nodded her head.

"Right," Maxine nodded her head dubiously, "I'm going to pretend like I believe you."

Before Bianca had the chance to protest, a body pushed right up against her own, accompanied by a high-pitched squeal.

"Exciting isn't it?" Katie Bell clung onto Bianca's arm that was now resting uncomfortably on her lap.

Bianca chuckled lightly, "What? The ball? I mean, I guess you could-"

Katie interjected, her arms flailing about in the air, "No, not the ball. Although that is very exciting, but this! Dance lessons?" she gestured enthusiastically to the large, high ceilinged and busy hall before them, as boys and girls of all four houses filed in and took seats with various expressions.

Angelina Johnson had taken a seat beside the overjoyed Gryffindor, "Speak for yourself, Katie."

Maxine leaned forward in her chair, "Yeah, I'm finding it hard to relate here." she had a single finger raised.

Bianca cleared her throat, stifling any growing urges to laugh, "Let her have her moment guys. It's not every day that you get in a relationship."

"Thank you, Bianca," Katie said, as she glared at Angelina before she once again broke out into blabbering conversation, where her grin, didn't leave her beaming face.

Maxine sent Bianca another smirk, "So," she extended her vowel, "how's Malcolm?"

Bianca screamed an internal scream. Her mouth opened and closed as she desperately tried to find literate words, "He's- he's good."

Maxine paused, as her eye line tightened in Bianca's direction, "You haven't spoken to him, have you?"

Bianca's internal screams heightened, deteriorating as the silence went on.

"Haven't spoken to" wasn't even the worst of it. Of course, she could have done. Malcolm wanted to. Bianca just believed herself to be a horrible person that deserved a fate worse than one single detention. "Avoiding him" would be more suitable phrasing.

Maxine's shoulders fell down to the floor, "You don't like him, huh?"

"No, no, I do! I really, truly do!" Bianca defended herself. "I just don't want a relationship?" one side of her mouth tugged up, whilst the other remained straight.

Maxine let a subtle sigh escape her mouth, as she stared at the Gryffindor with wide eyes, and an inclined head. "Please don't give me that look!" Bianca pleaded, bring her hands to a hold on her lap.

"What look?" Maxine asked.

"The disappointed-but-not-surprised one," Bianca said.

Maxine's face went sullen, and her smile became half-hearted, "You need to tell him the truth, Bi."

Maxine turned back to face the center of the hall, where Professor McGonagall was approaching the students.

Bianca's face had lost any leftover spirit, and unlike the Gryffindor next to her, there was about as much life left to Bianca's expression as Professor Binns has in general.

Bianca slowly turned back to face the front, just as the head of Gryffindor house, cleared her throat, and a wave of silence rushed through the rows of seats of girls and boys, until the last mutter of discussion.

"Good afternoon, everybody." Professor McGonagall stood in the center of the hall. She had her hands clasped, hanging relaxed in front of her.

"Thank you for joining Professor Snape and I here today. I expect you all to take this seriously, especially considering it is a very significant celebration, that will be attended by very prominent wizards and witches of all ages. I should hope you all treat our guests with respect when they join us. It has, however, come to my attention that a large portion of you have disregarded the importance of this dance with unwanted negligence. That being said, we hope that this session provides any assistance that you require to enjoy the night, all the while withholding the correct manner that we expect from you." she spoke, rotating in her position to speak to the entire room.

With a sigh, announcing the commencement of her introductory speech, the Professor turned to the hidden Potions teacher, hovering by the staff table at the front; his repetitive black cloak, gathering dust as it hung low, sweeping floor, "Now, Professor Snape, if you would care to join me in a demonstration?" Professor McGonagall held out her arm, beckoning the man to join her center stage.

With severe reluctance, that the Professor tried to hide behind his harsh facade, and steely look, Snape strode over to the Transfiguration teacher and took her hand.

The two adults floundered around, Snape quite clearly not enjoying being the center of attention until they found a hold.

With a scratch of the needle on the record, classical music floated around the room, and the couple started their waltz.

As the strings screeched due to the ancient quality of the record - Adrian grimaced at how badly it had been taken care of - and the piano faltered with a jumping effect, Bianca wondered why they needed a demonstration. It was hardly that difficult. Almost self-explanatory if you made communication with your partner.

Professor McGonagall called out a few notes and apparently important advice regarding what she was doing and how they would be doing the same shortly with another student in the room. Snape looked like a mix of about to fall asleep and wanting to resign from his position.

As the couple danced around the floor, occasionally tripping over the other's feet very subtly, making everyone wonder why these two particular teachers were doing this instead of someone that had the capability of teaching the art of ballroom dancing, minus the feet collisions, the students watched, eyes following the two figures, glide around not so flawlessly.

Bianca never thought she'd ever see Professor Snape perform a waltz. Neither did Adrian when he caught Bianca's attention, by grinning broadly at her.

Adrian motioned to the dancing Professors. "Not bad, ey?" he mouthed, his grin growing, whilst he watched a smile tug at Bianca's mouth.

"Terrible," she mouthed back.

Adrian chuckled to himself before the two of them resumed watching the Professors' attempt at a "demonstration".

Bianca leaned over to her left, "Can I ask you a favour?" she asked Maxine, as they watched their Professors dance before them. Maxine hummed indicating for Bianca to continue. "When we're asked to find partners, could you possibly-"

"Ask Malcolm, so you don't have to reject him?" the Hufflepuff finished, her head now turned to Bianca.

Bianca squeezed her mouth into a tight smile, forcing herself not to break it, "Yes?"

Maxine sighed, uncrossing her legs, "Fine. I'll do it. But just to be clear," she raised a finger, as Bianca let out an exasperated breath of relief, "I don't agree with it and you will be telling him the truth at some point. Because I for one am definitely not."

Bianca knew it would be too late too soon to tell Malcolm about her true feelings before he felt like she had played him and used him in a harsh enough way for his heart to break a little. And as much as it pained to admit to herself, that it was true, Bianca told herself it wasn't. She told herself that once she told Malcolm the truth (not about the Kiss List. By god not about the Kiss List), hopefully, it would all blow over like leaves in wind, in a mutual, friendly way that left no broken hearts or hard feelings.

"Of course!" Bianca said, her voice bleeding with gratitude, "Thank you. I love you." she placed her two hands on Maxine's knee before standing up, upon noticing that the classical music had stopped and had been replaced by the sound of deep groans from the boys a few meters away; the girls around them had now started to get up from their seats with enthusiastic chatter.

Maxine followed the Gryffindor's eyes, as her chair squeaked a little as she stood up. "But then who are you going to dance with?" she asked.

Bianca shrugged, "I'll think of someone."

In times like these, when one is thrown into the deep end, there is sometimes only one option that can look rather weird, but work out nonetheless.

Bianca didn't have a love or any kind of liking towards most of the boys in her year group and for the ones that she did in fact like, she was either avoiding them, they were in a relationship, or they simply wouldn't take this seriously enough for her to function.

With slight precaution, and yet with long strides and a raised chin, Bianca approached a slouched over Slytherin, staring at the ground.

"You know you really shouldn't sit like that, it's bad for your posture," she said, as the brunette looked up, a smirk now forming on his face. Bianca offered out her hand, along with a flick of her wrist and a tilt of head behind her, to motion to the space in which other students were preparing to dance.

Adrian chuckled, "Oh, so now I get a dance?" he sat up, pushing up against the back of the seat, as the boys around him were picked up one by one, and dispersed into the crowd.

Bianca shrugged, unbothered, "No one else for me to dance with."

"Preece's been staring at you since we got here," Adrian said. He had in fact noticed how often Malcolm Preece had looked over to Bianca's direction. And a few too many times at that, for Adrian's liking.

"Observant are we?" Bianca raised her eyebrows, "Or just straight weird?"

Adrian's lower lip folded over his upper one. He shrugged with a hint of contemplation, "A mix of both." he admitted.

"Well I have high expectations, Adrian, so don't let me down." Bianca inched her open hand, which had her palm facing upwards, closer towards the boy.

"Highly unlikely," Adrian smirked, as he took her hand, with a slight slap, and she assisted him to his feet.

With their hands still locked in a feeble grasp, Bianca led the boy to a space in the hall, where she stopped. Adrian stood in front of her, "Right, how do we do this?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it you that said that you didn't see the point behind these lessons?" she had let go of his hand.

"You are correct." he pointed his finger, "But in my defence, I wasn't paying attention, so you might have to guide me."

"Too busy staring at your man-crush, huh?" she teased.

"He's not my man-crush." Adrian was quick to justify; his voice sounding extremely fed up with her mockery antics. "And it was hardly staring. He was staring. If anyone's the weird one here, it's Preece."

Bianca hummed, with her eyebrows hoisted, unconvinced.

After a moment, she stood up a little straighter, and held up her arms, "Okay, hold your left arm up like this," she curved her right arm. Adrian mirrored her actions, cautiously doing the same with his left, "and put your right hand on my waist." she gestured down to her lower left hip.

Adrian's smirk sprouted from the corner of his mouth, and flourished, as she directed his hand to its place on her waist, "Your waist, huh? Moving a bit fast aren't we?"

Bianca smiled sarcastically, as Adrian hand settled more comfortably on her waist, "Very funny, Adrian." she lifted up his left arm a little higher, and met her right arm to his. "And then hold my hand here," she instructed.

As their hands connected, and Bianca's fingers slipped in between his, Adrian struggled to stop his cheeks from flushing pink, and his smile from growing, "Oh, our relationship evolution. Warms my heart, did you know that?" he said.

Adrian's arms had now drooped into a relaxed hold, their hands still locked, and his hand still resting on her waist.

Bianca's face created one of annoyance, "Do it, or I'll find a new partner." she said firmly.

Adrian raised his arms, "Thought you said there wasn't anyone else." he sorted out his posture and the two of them found a hold. "Then again there is a whole year group here so I'm starting to doubt that you couldn't find anyone else to dance with besides me, so I actually think the truth is, is that you decided to dance with me on your own accord because you actually kind of like me and-"

"You wanna shut up or?" Bianca stopped him just before she would let him talk too much that her arms would start to ache.

"Right. Got it. Sorry," Adrian said, with a single nod, and a step closer, pushing his chest out a little, to ready himself for whatever was going to happen next, which, to him, was still very unclear.

The pair stood for a moment or two, the chatter and bustling going on around them, as students found partners, and prepared themselves too.

When the pinching pain in his arms kicked in, feeling like several different knives were poking at his skin, Adrian sighed, "So, what now?"

"We wait for the music to start," Bianca explained.

"Okay then," Adrian cleared his throat, fighting his urges to scratch or rock on his feet just to make the time pass quicker.

Bianca avoided any looks in Adrian's direction and decided to focus on everything else in the room beside the boy.

But just before the tenseness escalated to an intolerable amount, and before the pain in their arms reached the point when it felt as though they could drop off, a scratching sound bounced off the walls, similar to the one from before, followed by the fumbling of a needle, and finally, the orchestral combined sounds of violins, a piano, a cello, and brass instruments announced the commencement of the practice.

Bianca and Adrian were by no means the last couple to start, but there were not far from.

Bianca started with a slight nudge of her foot against the tip of his, telling him to step backward, which he soon did and it didn't take long for them to be in a slow, and very tedious amateur waltz.

"Ow!" Bianca grimaced, with a hiss escaping her lips. Adrian had stepped onto her toe, and now her arms weren't the only part of her aching. He retracted his foot immediately. "Do you mind?"

Adrian shrugged lightly, thinking her reaction to being an overreaction, not requiring the dramatic sound effects that she gave off. "Not at all, actually." he chuckled.

"Gives us a turn," Adrian said after a few moments of repetitive and boring steps.

Raising his left arm above her head, and losing his grip on his waist, Adrian practically pushed Bianca under his arm, leading to her being spun around involuntarily.

When she made it back to the front, slightly unhinged, Bianca stumbled a little onto Adrian, who caught her with his arms, just before she toppled over completely.

It did however result in Bianca now standing directly on Adrian's feet, almost like she was dancing on top of him.

"Sorry," Bianca said as she stared down sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it." Adrian said, "Although you could get off my foot." he looked down at the girl, who still had her feet resting on top of Adrian's, just not quite as close as before.

"Oh yeah right, crap." she hurried off and stepped back down. "That'll probably bruise, you know." she nodded down towards his feet.

"Well, that's fine then," Adrian said, placing his hand back on her waist, and taking ahold of her hand again, directing her arm into a dance hold once more.

"How is that fine?" Bianca's eyebrows knitted towards each other.

"It'll be a memoir," Adrian said.

"A memoir for what?" Bianca asked, slightly lost as she tried to smile, despite her confused expression.

"The time that I got you to dance with me."

Bianca wanted to say something.

A snarky comment of some kind. An insult to how lame she thought he had been since they got here. That was enough. She even hated the word "lame" and all its American connotations. But she thought he was being very lame. And yet, Bianca believed that now was not any time to criticize the boy. In fact, she couldn't even be bothered, because, why ruin an almost sweet moment?

Adrian was almost waiting for a snide comment to come from the girl and when it didn't come, after all, it was a sense of relief that maybe even she didn't see him as the awful and unbearable Slytherin twat that she once did.

It's not that hard to ignore how oddly tragic and sad and pathetic Bianca may have thought his words were. Because it almost was sweet.

"Okay, that will be all for today." Professor McGonagall had returned to the staff table after the song had ended. She clamped her hands together, her smile beaming projectively and her hat standing tall. "I hope you learned something. You are dismissed."

Bianca's arms slid away from Adrian's and an awkward moment dawned on the pair, as they fumbled in their standing positions, until the boy said goodbye with another single nod, before he turned on his heels, and walked back over to where he was once sat to collect his things.

Bianca stood for just a moment, watching Adrian walk away and the students around her scatter like a deck of cards after being slammed onto a table, sliding off in different directions.

She regained her thoughts, and before it had been too long and therefore made her out to be a slight weirdo, Bianca walked back to her seat, where Maxine O'Flaherty was already sat.

"You looked like you had fun," the Hufflepuff smirked.

"Oh give me a break would you?"

"Just saying." Maxine turned her attention to collecting her things, and slinging her back over her shoulder, looping her second arm through the second handle. "Don't shoot me for pointing out the obvious."

Through her peripheral vision, and to Bianca's misfortune, Maxine noticed her dance partner, walking towards the two girls, bag in hand, along with a sense of determination, that would not rub off well in the near future.

"Talking about shooting me, I'm going to go, because you have something you need to do," Maxine said, with a smile intertwined with severity and a tilt of her head to the Hufflepuff fast approaching.

Bianca made a quick glance, following Maxine's gesture, and the pit of her stomach leaped to the ground, sinking and sinking as the boy made it closer. And there was no chance of a last-minute change of direction.

Just as the boy arrived, Maxine had fled, sending one last "good luck" kind of smile in Bianca's direction before she had left for good.

    Before Bianca even had the time to react, or prepare what on earth she was going to say, Malcolm had jogged up to her, to speed up the last meter of so from him to her.

"Hey Bianca!" the boy radiated such joyousness that Bianca was struggling not to heave up the entire contents of her stomach.

"Malcolm!" she smiled back, "Hey!"

"How have you been?" he asked, as Bianca clutched her bag, standing up, squeezing her fist around its handle to keep the vomit at bay. "I feel like we haven't spoken in forever."

It was true. They had not. And yet, the boy didn't seem as though he was blaming that on Bianca, nor did it sound like he believed her to be the exact cause for why they hadn't spoken in almost two weeks, which she was, and that it was most likely due to the fact that they led separate and busy lives.

Her stomach still ached.

"I'm okay, thank you. Just don't know where the time has gone, really," Bianca grinned, ignoring any other signals her body was sending her.

"Honestly. It's weird to think how December is almost done. It'll be Christmas before we know it," Malcolm said. Bianca didn't say anything, due to her mind not focusing on the words her mouth couldn't produce but was rather preoccupied with the pancake mix that was readying itself to come up the other way.

Malcolm began to rock back and forth on his heels and then to his toes, and it was obvious to anyone that he was nervous. And that may be an understatement.

"So have you got a date for the ball yet?" Malcolm asked.

And just like that, Bianca could now taste her breakfast. It was inevitable to come up and Bianca had no doubt that he was going to ask her - not because she was "tooting her own horn" as to say, but because she had sort of, maybe, there's a possibility that she could have lead him on.

It was safe to say that Malcolm Preece had a thing for Bianca Larsson. After their shared day of trouble and romance in the little village of Hogsmeade, it would have been very hard not to.

Even before then, Malcolm couldn't deny the sweet spot that filled his heart whenever there was a mention or memory that came to mind, regarding the blonde Gryffindor. And he was darn well pleased when she agreed to "catch up" at his welcome back party.

"Oh um, no actually, I, uh, I don't," Bianca's mouth had weakened in a smiling sense, and was starting to lose hope that she could keep up the happy, grinning look for much longer.

Bianca could swear she heard Malcolm gulp. "Would you, uh, would you possibly want to go with me?" he asked uncertainly.

And there it was. And there it also was that Bianca realised that she hadn't thought about what to say in response.

"Oh, I, um, I was actually, um," she stumbled and stumbled and nothing had formed.

"Oh, were you going to wait till somebody else asked you?" Malcolm's smile had faltered as he was hit with a wave of sadness.

"No, actually, I wasn't waiting for anyone ... it's just," Bianca trailed off as she looked at the boy. She looked at all his handsomeness. And his floppy, uncoordinated blonde hair. And his "stupid dimples". And how his once happy expression had faded with time, till there was very little left.

"It's nothing personal!" she blurted out, with obvious hints of regret to assure him. "Seriously. I'm really sorry, I'm just not one for a date. I was actually planning to go on my own."

And even though he wasn't going to the ball with Bianca Larsson, a little sense of optimism had returned to Malcolm's face. Like he understood. And that was the best thing to see. Sure, he wasn't going with her, but no one else was.

"That's okay," he said.

Bianca bit her lip, "Sorry, again, Malcolm."

"Don't worry about it." a weak smile had returned, and it was like someone had pushed the vomit back down where it was supposed to be. "See you there though?" Malcolm said, with glistening hope reflecting in his eyes.

Bianca's smile had also returned, "Course."

"Then you better save me a dance," he smirked, as he skimmed past her side, leaving a cinnamon sweet scent trailing behind him.

Bianca turned around too, "Who would I be not to?" she called out to him. Malcolm glanced back, his smile having almost made a full recovery, winking as he caught her eye.

And yet, things could have gone worse. A lot worse.

Bianca wasn't sure whether he was completely heartbroken and scarred so bad that he was unfixable, but from the way he left her, Bianca had high hopes that he was only bruised just a little. And maybe, not even that.

This by no means sealed their relationship and determined where it stood, but it was progress and Bianca didn't even feel that bad.

Throwing her bag over her shoulder, content for once, Bianca followed the torrent of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and Slytherins out of the Great Hall.

Before she could leave for Muggle Studies, Adrian Pucey had made it his goal to get one last word in before Bianca disappeared to a location he wasn't going to.

"Looking forward to that dance that you promised me," he smirked, referring to their earlier discussion regarding who Bianca was planning on dancing with at the ball. He elbowed her arm, before jogging ahead of her a little.

"I didn't promise you any dance," Bianca said, with mild hostility, and a lowered head.

"Really?" Adrian turned to face her, now walking backward. "Oh. Well, then I must have promised myself a dance on your behalf." he faked an expression of confusion, before shaking his head, and beaming back up at her, "See you in charms!"

With another turn back to face the right way and a skip in his step, sending him down the stairs and out of sight, Bianca now had two boys to dance with at the Hogwarts Christmas ball. And she didn't even want a date to start with.

Then again, Adrian was still brainstorming who in the hell he was going to ask to be his date, this late in time. Especially since Bianca was under the impression that he already has one.