Chapter 85 - Bonus Chapter Thanks

She grew up in a convent. Her views on love and marriage were conservative.

She was certain that no one, absolutely no one, could make her give her kiss under the Mistletoe right now. No one could make her map him out as a lifelong partner, precise and planned.

She had followed Ms. Prim's teachings well. Love could be free, but a life's choice had to be made with care.

If Miles had simply asked her to be his dance partner, she would have accepted without hesitation.

If his confession had been the same as the first time, she might have laughed and told him, "You're too impatient!"

But Miles had made a promise under the Mistletoe. That left only one outcome, rejection.

He was asking for a lifetime. If she couldn't fulfill that kind of promise, she couldn't agree to it.

It wasn't that Miles had never considered it: if he'd waited a little longer, would there have been a chance?

But love and jealousy are born together. The moment he opened Praeris's bag without permission, the moment he saw that box, his failure was already sealed. No way back.

He gained his chance through impulse. He lost love through impulse.

He confessed the first time on impulse, because he found out someone else liked the person he liked. He confessed the second time on impulse, over a box that proved nothing at all.

He didn't lose to another suitor. He lost to himself, to his possessiveness, his jealousy, his impulsiveness.

To say he wasn't sad would be a lie. But he still smiled.

He knew Praeris wasn't a foolish person. He was also afraid that showing his hurt would make her soften, make her decide something that went against her own heart.

"Are we still friends?" Miles said.

Praeris nodded without hesitation. "Yes. You're my friend."

"Don't be sad for me." Miles finally let the smile go. He looked at her, and his voice came out easy, like something released. "You know what? You're a really good person to date."

"I'm not," Praeris said.

"You are." It was the first time Miles had ever firmly pushed back against her words. "You've never been in a relationship, but you taught me a lot."

Just like what Praeris had said to him at that first confession: a confession is the bugle call charging toward victory.

She had been right. Miles just hadn't understood it at the time, and in the end, hadn't lived up to it either.

Even so, Praeris had been a genuinely good teacher to him over these two weeks. She taught him to strive for better. She taught him not to act on impulse. She gave him the first real feeling of his heart racing for someone, and made him face, for the first time, the possessiveness coiled beneath his fierce feelings.

Praeris shook her head. "No. It's because you were already a good person."

If Miles hadn't been so good, Praeris would never have let him try. And Miles would never have gained anything from this.

"The sunflowers were beautiful," Miles said quietly. "It's a shame they wilted so fast."

"They were conjured by magic," Praeris said.

Magical creations fade as the magic powering them is spent. That sunflower had been nothing more than something Praeris threw together on a whim with wandless magic. It couldn't last long.

"The jam biscuits were really good," Praeris added.

"My mother made the jam. Next time I'll bring you a jar."

Their time together had been brief. A little over half a month.

In that half a month, they had gone to countless classrooms together, worked through piles of homework together, walked every inch of Hogwarts' lawns together, practiced spell after spell together.

They ate jam biscuits together. They went up to the Astronomy Tower balcony to watch the stars. They walked along the Black Lake. They ducked out of sight whenever Professor Snape came around, he was the only teacher who actually bothered catching students for puppy love.

They walked each other to class. They waited for each other after.

Such a short stretch of time, and yet so much had happened. It almost made Miles feel like they had been together for a very, very long time.

The sky had gone dark. Miles and Praeris walked together toward the Slytherin common room.

This was the last time he would walk her back.

Praeris stopped at the entrance and looked at him. "Thank you," she said, "for liking me. And I'm sorry — that we couldn't keep walking forward."

Miles shook his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one who should be thanking you. Thank you for giving me a chance."

Slytherin girls' dormitory.

Praeris sat on the windowsill and wrote.

"I don't understand. He is such a good person, so genuinely good that I feel guilty. Why didn't I fall for him?"

"I used to be very afraid of love. I've known so many people who suffered because of it. Millicent's father loved her mother deeply, and chose to give up his life for that love. I knew a teacher whose secret feelings have tormented him every day since. And... Winnie knows the rest."

"But Miles changed that for me. Love really can be something good. It made me happy, even without my falling for him. But love also brings real pain. If we had simply become friends from the beginning, instead of only crossing paths because he liked me — how much better that might have been."

"I even had a thought I'm ashamed of. I considered saying yes, even without loving him. I was afraid that after the rejection, we wouldn't be able to stay friends. But I couldn't do it. I can't deceive someone's feelings like that."

"I'm glad, in the end, that I didn't. And I'm glad about something else too — I'm no longer that silly child who tormented herself over her own worst thoughts. Ms. Prim, Miss Winnie, please don't worry about me. I'm alright. Just a little bit sad."

Praeris set the letter and quill down beside her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself. Not a single tear.

But still, just a little bit sad.

Not for herself. For Miles.

She didn't know if she had made the right call. Maybe her decision was correct. Maybe it was wrong.

But life isn't like Potions class. There is no instructor standing over her life, no one to tell her whether she got it right.

She could only keep going. Stumbling, unsteady, but forward.

The next day was Tuesday. The first task of the Triwizard Tournament was set for that afternoon.

Neither a tournament nor someone quietly closing the door on a relationship that had never quite begun would stop the morning's classes from running as normal.

As it happened, the morning's class was Professor Vector's Arithmancy.

The last time Praeris had missed Arithmancy was when she'd been hospitalized for defending Draco.

And as it also happened, what Professor Vector was teaching today was how to use Arithmancy to divine matters of the heart.

The system held that certain numbers resonate in harmony, certain numbers exist in a state of balance, and certain numbers simply do not align.

Through Arithmancy, then, it was possible to calculate what attitude a person truly held toward love.

➤ Next: The First Task