[2:37 A.M.]
[Outfit]

Her efforts at the Valentine's Day Ball had proved useless and what was more, Duke had died the day previously. Bellatrix had been terribly upset at any mention of either Xavier or her deceased toad and now refused to say a word to anyone. She raised no argument against her teachers' comments on her "lack of effort" and in the common room, she studied harder than ever. The black bags under her eyes were growing darker and thicker. There was no way that she could be pulled out of her depression, or she couldn't think of one at the moment.

So, this evening with the Slytherin common room completely deserted (not that she noticed as she was currently absorbed in recopying her notes for Astronomy class), Bellatrix sat alone at her usual corner table quietly missing the frequent, annoying demands of her toad for a Fudge Fly. Her head picked up to chance a glance around the room and once she found it deserted, she burst into her usual fit of tears. Everything at Hogwarts had been going downhill like a Flying Carpet that lost its magic; there was no stopping this ride. She sobbed and cried to herself, muttering about her "stupid toad" and "ungrateful boyfriend". The tears were staining her parchment, but she didn't care anymore. Her headache caused from the intake of too much information was growing worse by the day and she was making as much progress in memorizing her notes as she was of becoming the next Minister of Magic.

Deciding to go ahead and let her emotions fall apart, she crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on them. It was a long time before she lifted her head up again and stared at her tear-spotted parchment. She really needed to get this studying done. Sitting upright, she picked up her quill again, sniffled, and tried to force her brain back onto the course where it wasn't blurred by images of Xavier laughing and the enlightened feeling in her stomach that had come whenever he had been near. The reason she refused to acknowledge these memories was due to a now empty feeling that was crushing at her chest. It couldn't have been love that she felt for Tawse, no, but it was a horrible feeling without him all the same...

Now the Slytherin common room wasn't exactly what you could call a hip-hopping place. At least, not when Fir wasn't in the room. His splendid dazzle could probably have brightened and enlivened even Lord Voldemort's hideout back in the day. You know. If he managed to get two steps in before being blasted before being the kid of a squib and a muggle. Details, details.

So Fir had gone to another hip hopping common room that night. And stayed far, far past curfew. So far past that he was probably better off just sleeping said other common room. Nope. Not Fir. He was headed back to the Slytherin forms. Why? Because all his hair supplies were in his room, and he simple could not be seen sneaking back to Slytherin when people were likely to be about with lank, non spikey poofed out hair. Such would go against all matter of Firness.

Damn you eight hour extra hold. Not lasting into hour eleven. Damn you.

Fir somehow managed to slip into the common room without notice from teachers, prefects or ghosts. That was kind of amazing. But then again, this WAS Fir.

The common room was not empty. There was a certain eccentric fifth year sitting and sniffling on her own. Wait what? If you were up at almost three in the morning, you should be something fun/likely to get a 50-point deduction from your house. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. This could not stand.

"Yo," Fir plopped down next to the girl. "I know I did not just see tears there."

No one and that meant no one had taken her by surprise the way that Fir did when he walked into the Slytherin common room at 3 in the morning. Bellatrix's head had jerked up, rivers of tears flooding her somewhat pretty face, yet she had ceased all sobbing and sounds at once; her mouth hung open slightly in a gaping manner at the sight of him. Sometimes, she felt he offended reason and then she remembered that she did, too. They barely knew each other, but that didn't stop her from admiring the way he strutted around arrogantly confidently.

"Yo. I know I did not just see tears there."

Nervously, Bellatrix started shuffling around her many pieces of parchment on the various notes she needed to recopy and memorize for her O.W.L. exams. She tried very hard to make it look like she had been working all along, but there was no fooling anyone. Still, it was worth a shot. Only four people knew that Bellatrix Dark could shed tears: her twin Beatrix, her baby sister Erin, her closest cousin Razzy, and Xavier Tawse who was the current reason behind these salty drops of liquid dripping from her eyelashes.

"No, you didn't," it was a poor lie, "you're seeing the after-effects of a...a spell I was doing."

She stacked her parchment, heaved a sigh, and worked as hard as she could not to fall apart again in front of Fir. One of the last people she wanted to see her crying and in such a horrid mess was the leader of the Glitterati.

"I-I'm just finishing up." That was when she paused to look at him suspiciously. "Speaking of, what were you out doing?"

Fir watched the girl, now identified as Bellatrix Dark, shuffle papers around and very badly lie about th fact he did not just see tears. Yeesh. For a house that got such a bad rap for being all shifty and underhanded, no one here could lie for shit.

"I seriously think I'm the only one in this house that knows how to weave a convincing lie," Fir said with a smirk. "Frankly, darling, I have heard a more convincing tale from a Animagi cat with his mouth full of bird feathers."

It was three in the morning and he was wide awake sitting next to a hot chick with an unusual fashion style. Yeah....he was so not just going to drop the conversation and prance his merry way off to bed. However, this conversation felt like it was missing something. Pulling out his wand, Fir cast a couple quick little charms. A fedora appeared on the top of his head (resting with just the right angle, he might add). Another little flick and a wine glass appeared in his free hand and a second on the table next to Bella. It was filled with Butterbeer, not wine, but Butterbeer was warm and hangovers were bad.

Props now in hand (and head), Fir once more resumed speaking.

"I was doing what I normally do," Fir informed her sipping his Butterbear and pointing at Bella. "Which is a very long list of excitement, joy, delight and fabulousness, the full description of which would have you sitting rapt in your place until next Christmas.

"But," Fir continued with another little sway and sip. "We're not here to talk about me. The 24,000 galleon question is why were you crying and why did you try and hide it?"

Heh. Not going to talk about Fir. That was funny.

"I seriously think I'm the only one in this house that knows how to weave a convincing lie. Frankly, darling, I have heard a more convincing tale from a Animagi cat with his mouth full of bird feathers."

This statement put Bellatrix in great danger of smiling and bursting into laughter which, honestly, annoyed her more than anything else. Conflicted between the two--being irritated or laughing--she simply turned back to her papers and started to put them away. By the time she turned back around, he was wearing a Fedora with two wine glasses full of Butterbeer. She watched him as he sipped his and, listening to his story, she chugged half of her own glass.

"The 24,000 galleon question is why were you crying and why did you try and hide it?"

The Butterbeer made her insides go all fuzzy and warm. There was no longer that pit of emptiness and hunger; there was only Fir and his hair...and his hat. She wasn't drunk nor buzzed, but she was relaxed. Sitting down and talking to him was just amazing! Not that she'd let him know that. He was asking her why she was crying, after all. She could not compliment a boy that would push the issue of why she was crying.

"Don't you know? Of course you do," she grumbled, "everyone knows, don't they? It's ridiculous how everyone can know everything about it, yet no one actually knows anything at all! The truth is that I--" She glanced at her Butterbeer, took a good gulp, and set it back down harder than she meant to. "I was trying to make him jealous! He fell for it, of course, but then...it just all went to dragon dung! I don't think even Barbie the Bumbler couldn't have made worse of a mess out of things! He can't stand me now and I-I can't even look at him!"

This time, Bellatrix only took a sip of her Butterbeer, jerked her eyes to him when she realized she'd confessed something important, and returned her threatening, blue-eyed glare to him.

"Don't you dare tell anyone I was crying, Fir! If word gets around I've gone soft over a boy, well... It's not just any boy. He called me 'perfect' and then he dumped me before I got a chance to do anything! He called me boring, Fir. Boring! How stupid is that? I'm like the least boring person here! Except you, obviously," she muttered that compliment to herself.

There was a long pause of silence during which she only looked around the common room, her eyes settling on the fantastic Fir beside her. He was coming up to her and talking to her. Was that normal for someone that amazing? She felt disgruntled at how admirable she was of him. It wasn't right the way a girl admired a boy whose hair was so poofy.

"Look, I know what you're going to say. 'Get over him, it's a part of life, break-ups happen to everyone,' but it's not that he dumped me. That's what no one knows: it's because I didn't get a good chance to show him that I can be a good girl--" She choked on the word 'girlfriend' and made a face like someone had just stuffed Bubotuber puss in her mouth. "I just can't seem to find a way to stop thinking about it and start to get over this...whatever this is!"

Fir raised an eyebrow when instead of a smile or an 'oh Fir, you clever handsome devil you' he got the back of a head. What a grump. He supposed that was the unofficial Slytherin way, but still. That deserved something.

Well, at least the butterbeer and the fedora seemed to work somewhat. Go Fir go! Bella had finally loosened up and...holy crap did she ever loosen up. Damn, Fir thought he was chatty. Then again, his chattyness was entertaining for everyone around and needed to be shared because of all the smiles and joy it brought to people. This was just depressing. ell he guessed if she was crying, it wasn't over good news.

He just watched and listened, nodding in all the right appropriate places until eh was sure she had finished completely. Damn she was a mess. One should only be such a mess after a hell of an awesome party.

"What is with girls in this school and Xavier Tawse?" Fir said, rolling his eyes. "Oh he'd a cutie for sure with those nice muscles and that bad boy swagger, but come on, woman. One- anyone who calls someone perfect lacks brain power. Know why? Because that is the most unimaginative, uninspired thing you can say to someone you're in love with. The guy doesn't have a damn clue how to properly charm a girl. Or properly insultone. Boring? I mean come on. My fictional great aunt Tessie, who is about as imaginative as a stick in the mud, has better insults than that. Xavier  just gets by on his swagger."

"What is with girls in this school and Xavier Tawse?"

The comment made her look up from her refilled glass of Butterbeer and stare at him. She listened. Hard. Or, rather, she listened, her mind warped the words, and her eyebrows furrowed dangerously together in thought.

"Are you telling me that he used me? That's absurd." She glared around the Slytherin common room, continuing to mutter to herself through clenched teeth. "Absolutely ludicrous... Complete tosh, the lot of it! Used indeed. Hah! Bellatrix Dark, used by a Tawse."

Each word was uttered with bitter venom. She couldn't have been used. What purpose would he have of using her? She could manipulate people, but in that whole relationship-thing not once had she... Well, she'd been a giddy girl, hadn't she? Acting stupid like her sister around Pennyapple. The image of Ayla popped into her mind and her hand gripped the glass so hard that it nearly shattered. No, he couldn't have used her to get Ayla jealous. The twit wouldn't so much as look at him! He'd been smiling at her a lot and he seemed a lot happier than the night he confessed his "undying devotion" for Ayla. Surely, he couldn't have used Bella to make anyone jealous?

What if he'd only used her as a rebound? Or what if he'd only said those things and never meant them? What if the words that Bella had taken to heart had only been word-vomit that he couldn't help because it was in his cunning, suave nature to woo women? He couldn't help it?

"Ridiculous," she grumbled and chugged the entire glass in her hand. Finally, she faced Fir with fresh determination. "No, I won't believe a word of it! He has swagger, he has charm, but he cried, Fir. I don't know a single man that can fake that much crying. I-I don't know what you're going on about. It just can't be true that a girl like me would go soft. Ever! I mean, I'm crazy, aren't I? Completely mad is what they say. A psychotic, deranged girl who needs to have her wand snapped in half and take a leaf from her twin's book. Isn't that it? How can someone like that fall so easily for a guy that spews up word-vomit?"

The entire conversation she just said had been contradicting, but Bellatrix hadn't caught it at all. She continued to idly drink away the refilling butterbeer. It was making the pain go away, the snarl on Xavier's face that night fade from her memory. It relaxed her like nothing else had before and all she wanted to do was keep drinking so that nothing except Fir's hair entered her world. She wanted to be numb again, carefree to hex whom she pleased. What she didn't realize was that her depression was only getting worse.