Author's Note: I'm backkkk! This story is for the HalfBaked Challenge. You choose one character and then a number that coincides with another character. I chose Narcissa Malfoy, and the number 53, which ended up being Moaning Myrtle. . .It was difficult to make up a plot, but I believe it's good.

It doesn't say her name until the end, but I hope you can tell who it is, folks. (Not to mention, it says in the description where the characters are. . .)

Take a look, and maybe review? (:

It felt like she had been running for hours, even though it had only been a few minutes. Her legs were giving out, but she didn't have enough power in her brain to notice. Her long blonde hair was flowing wildly behind her, and she felt as though she couldn't breathe, all because she had read the letter from her parents. Her heart was dragging her down to the floor, and the long corridors of Hogwarts were making it all the more depressing.

She finally stopped, completely out of breath and pressed her back up against the stone walls. She glanced to her left noticing a girl's bathroom, and was relieved that she could hide in a stall to cry alone.

Checking her watch, she noticed she had about thirty minutes before her first class started. She had to pull herself together, and gather her steel expression before then. She turned to go inside the bathroom, and remembered that this was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, but she didn't care. She was so close to sobbing, all she needed was a hiding place. She ran over to the stall and slid to the ground within it. It seemed as though when her backside had hit the floor, she began crying, as if she turned a button on in her eyes.

It wasn't too long until she noticed Myrtle in the stall with her, looking at her curiously. She looked up at her and glared, hoping the ghost would go away.

After a few moments, she had to just ask. "Please, Myrtle, go away. I really need to be alone." She was surprised at the begging sound in her voice; she had never begged for anything in her life.

"I think it would be better for you to talk about your feelings. . ." Myrtle replied calmly.

She rolled her eyes. She was going to take advice for "talking about your feelings" from a ghost, especially a ghost that cried and moaned all day, every day, and never spoke her feelings to anyone.

"I've never voiced my feelings to anyone before. . .I learned to keep it in at all costs. . ." She trailed off, considering telling Myrtle. She sniffed a little, trying not to cry.


She looked at the ghost questioningly. It's not like Moaning Myrtle would tell anyone, most girls steered clear of this bathroom. She gave up, and decided to vent her feelings to the ghost.

"I got a letter from my parents, telling me some. . .not necessarily bad news, just. . .confusing and, I don't know, it messed me up."

"Care to reiterate?" Myrtle asked politely.

"They want me to marry Lucius." She sighed.


"I love him, I really do. It's just. . .arranged marriages sound so. . .awful. And not to mention the couples don't ever look happy together and I don't know if I even want to marry him yet!" She put her head on her knees and groaned.

"I bet he wants to marry you. . ." Myrtle suggested. "I also think it would be safe to bet that you would love him forever, so why not tie the knot?"

"I suppose. But it would be different if he asked me to marry him. He's not proposing to me; my parents are proposing, for his parents, for him. It's infuriating!" She exclaimed.

"Well, why don't you talk to him about it?"

"It's Lucius. He's not exactly the best at expressing his feelings. . ."

"Neither were you a few minutes ago."

"Touché. . .I guess I could try." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, great. I'm going to be late." She brought herself to her feet, and slid out of the stall and turned back to Myrtle. "Thanks, for letting me vent. Actually, for getting me to vent in the first place."

"No problem. Visit me again soon, with any problems? I'm a fairly good listener."

"I promise." She smiled at the ghost. She bid adieu to Myrtle and ran out of the bathroom. This time, as she was running, it was more of a lifting feeling, rather than a dragging one. She wasn't paying attention to what was in front of her, an action that usually turns out badly in the end, and ran straight into a tall, blonde man. She fell right onto his chest, and it took her a moment to realize who it was.

"Oh, Lucius, I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention." She staggered to her feet, and offered Lucius her hand to help him up. He grabbed it, gladly.

"Eh, it's okay I suppose. Where were you at breakfast? I saw you come in, but then you bolted out without even some toast. . ." He trailed off and lifted his hand to brush some of her hair out of her eyes.

"I got a letter from my parents, and it. . .upset me. I'm fine now. I had a long talk with a friend." She smiled to herself.

"What did it say, love?"

"Before I tell you, can you answer a question of mine first?" She asked, nervously. He nodded, slightly confused.

"Do you love me?"

His eyes grew wide. "Of course I do! How could you not know that by now?" She felt his arms wrap around her and she rested her head on his chest.

"Enough to marry me?"

"Yes. And, enough to stay with you forever and ever." He kissed her head.

"Okay. Well, the letter was from my parents. . .and yours I suppose. It said that our marriage was arranged. . ." She muttered.

"Well, is that a bad thing?" She looked at him, shocked at his response. "We love each other, enough to get married, right? Well, with our parents planning the entire thing, all we have to do is love each other in the mean time, and show up on our wedding day. It really isn't that bad, love."

She stood on her toes, and kissed him passionately on the mouth. "No, it isn't." She smiled at him widely. She took his hand, and they walked together to their first class.

She felt him lean over near her ear, and felt the warm tickling sensation of a whisper, saying the words she hoped she would hear forever.

"I love you, Cissy."

She held back tears, and whispered back to him, "I love you, too, Luscious." She felt him laugh at their inside joke, and she was finally content with the idea of an arranged marriage.

So many thoughts raced through her mind as they were walking, but one thing she couldn't get out of her mind was if there was such a thing as an "Arranged Pregnancy".

Now, that arrangement was just a bit too personal for a parents' involvement.


Oh my gosh this was so fun.