“Think of you?”

“Is it too much to expect you to think?”

“Is this some kind of subversive insult?”

“It can’t be an insult if it’s true.”

Taeyeon took a deep breath and fought to push down her rising agitation. She had never known herself capable of such strong anger before knowing Tiffany. No one had ever ruffled her feathers like Tiffany. But she would not cave. She would be better than a Slytherin. No more losing points over losing anger. “Why do you want to know what I think of you?”

“Because it matters.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Why are you asking so many questions? Did you turn into a Ravenclaw all of a sudden?”

“I’m asking because I don’t understand what’s going on. You’re nice, then you’re not, then you’re kinda nice again, then you’re the meanest witch again. I think it would be easier if you decide to be just one of the two, instead of swinging around like a pendulum.”

Tiffany looked to the left, then the right. “This isn’t the place for talking. Come with me.”

Not that Taeyeon was given any other choice but to follow. Her hand was firmly in Tiffany’s grasp and the Slytherin prefect was not looking back as she blazed down the corridor to a side door leading out to the quiet side of the castle grounds.

“Where are we going?”

There was no reply, so Taeyeon trudged on through the snow in Tiffany’s tow in silence, making up her mind to put her foot down when they finally stopped. On and on they trudged, down the snowy path, past the hillock.

“Q-Quiditch pitch? Are we going to the Quidditch pitch?”

“The changing rooms.”

“Are we going to sort out our differences on the Quidditch pitch?”

There was a snort, then nothing more. But Taeyeon’s curiosity was piqued, so she followed Tiffany the rest of the way into the changing rooms.

Once inside, Taeyeon looked at Tiffany, expecting answers. “What now?”

Tiffany stepped towards her, her stare intimidating like Professor Scape’s when he was teaching Potions. Unsure and a little afraid, Taeyeon stepped back, and back, and back, until her back was backed up against the wall.

“W-Wha—”

Tiffany’s face was in her face. Unblinking eyes and unmoving curled lashes. Soft eyebrows hung above them. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

Taeyeon shook her head, anxiety rising. Was this a trap? Was Tiffany going to set the meanest Slytherins on her? What a fool she was to follow Tiffany to this secluded changing room. There were no lessons and no games. No one else was here to rescue her.

Those curled lashes lowered, hiding Tiffany’s intense stare from her. “Taeyeon, has anyone ever told you that you’re cute?”

“C-Cute?”

“Mhm. Anyone? Ever?”

“My parents.”

A soft laugh escaped Tiffany. “What about someone who has a crush on you?”

It took Taeyeon two full seconds to process this information. “You have a crush on me? Me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But why would you be so mean to me if you have a crush on me? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“This must be why you at Potions class.”

“Hey, I don’t at Potions class. I was doing just fine until you got me into trouble with Professor Scape.”

“Oh, really? What about the time you got yourself a blue spotty face after blowing up your potion, huh?”

“That—that was three years ago.”

“I know, it was a Sleeping Draught.” Tiffany snorted and laughed. “How does anyone even screw up a Sleeping Draught.”

“I-I was tired of grinding—anyway, that’s not what we’re talking about. Do you really have a crush on me?”

“If you’re going to use this against me, I’ll—”

“I’m not going to use this against you,” Taeyeon retorted, indignation overflowing, “I’m not like you Slytherins.”

“Ouch,” Tiffany took a step back, arms in the air, “I guess I deserve that.”

“So it’s true? You really have a crush on me?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

Taeyeon looked down at her sneakers, icy at the tip where they got dragged into snow. “I just . . . it’s unexpected. Of all the people in school, in the different Houses . . . it’s you, a Slytherin prefect.”

Tiffany shrugged. “I wasn’t a prefect when I started crushing on you.”

Taeyeon gasped. “It wasn’t from the time I stopped the trunk from dropping on you? How long—wait. The Sleeping Draught? Three years ago? Three years? Since you were thirteen?”

“I was twelve at that time. You were thirteen.”

“How do you—you know my birthday?”

“You forget that your family sends you an owl with mail that literally scream-sings you a birthday song. I’ve heard it sung at breakfast four times now.”

“But why? Why me?”

“Because you’re cute,” Tiffany said with a smile. “Even when you had a blue spotty face, and everyone was laughing at you, there was a kind of cute courage you had. And I thought you were cute when you told off a Ravenclaw for laughing at your Ravenclaw-coloured face,” she chuckled, “that shut them up for the rest of the week.”

“W . . . o . . . w . . .” Taeyeon was in shock. “I had no idea . . .”

“Well, now you know.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me earlier? You know, without all that mean crap.”

Tiffany bit her lip. “I mentioned how cute you were to a friend back then. Her reaction made me think twice about it. So I got over it, and then things got busy with Quidditch. I’m the best Chaser, you know.”

“I know, you knocked Hannah off her broom and she broke her arm.”

Tiffany frowned. “I didn’t knock her off her broom. We were both going for the Quaffle. We got really close so it looked like I bumped her but I didn’t. I got the Quaffle, she lost her balance and fell. But everyone was already saying I bumped her off so she went along with it to avoid more embarrassment.”

“Mmm . . .”

“What?”

“So you’re not as mean as you seem to be?”

Tiffany shrugged. “You’re not as weak as you seem to be either.”

A giggle burst out of Taeyeon. “It’s weird. You’re almost nice again.” Tiffany’s sudden smirk had Taeyeon’s nerves spiking. “W-Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you like good girls? Or bad girls?”

“Er . . .”

“That girl you went to the ball with last Christmas. Penny? Is she nice? Is she your type?”

“Penny? She’s nice but . . .”

“But?”

“We ran out of things to talk about. We haven’t talked much since the ball.”

Tiffany turned and sat on the bench. “So, your answer to my question.”

“What was your question?”

“What do you think of me?”

Sensing that Tiffany was solemn now, Taeyeon joined Tiffany on the bench. “I think you’re pretty.” Tiffany stared at her, waiting. “But I still don’t know why you were so mean to me in Potions class.”

“My partner caught me staring at you.”

“But you didn’t have to go that far?”

“I had to be convincing.”

“We lost House points because of you. And I got extra work too. And it started the stupid war between us.”

“And you almost got me killed. Guess we’re even?”

“You’re not sorry for doing what you did.”

“There were rumours flying around after I caught Vince in the Great Hall. I came up with a reason that sounded as legitimate as I could but many Slytherins still labelled me as a traitor. It really , okay?”

“But you did the right thing. You don’t deserve to be labelled a traitor.”

“It’s Slytherin, Taeyeon.”

“You’re a Slytherin too. You did all those things to me. I didn’t deserve any of that.”

Tiffany looked down at her hands and fiddled with her fingers. “I guess this means you hate me, huh.”

“I don’t hate you but I’m pretty angry. You’re not sorry. You haven’t apologized.”

“Is that what you want? An apology?”

“Only if you really feel sorry about it. I don’t want a half- apology.”

“Look, do you think I really enjoyed doing those things to you?”

“You didn’t enjoy it but you did it and you still don’t feel sorry. You’re still thinking about yourself.”

“Taeyeon, I—”

“Tiffany, if you really want us to even be friends, it has to be on equal ground. You can’t treat me like crap to save yourself from trouble.” Taeyeon stood and walk to the door. “I’m not inferior to you. I have feelings too. Think about that, okay?”

x