When: 20 October, around midnight.
Where: Third floor corridor.
Rating: Eh...we'll see.
It was late. Well past curfew, surely. The students of Hogwarts were shut up in their respective common rooms or, in the younger years' case, tucked safely away in bed. Except for Will Stebbins, who was quietly wandering the halls, feeling rather glum and mopey. He'd originally planned to nip down to the kitchens for some last-minute comfort food (toast, naturally), but instead had meandered off-course and was now somewhere in the vicinity of the third floor.
He sighed wistfully and turned the corner, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his uniform like a pouting school boy. Which was exactly what he was, really, and he felt very foolish for it. Will prided himself on being quite sensible, thank you very much, and pouting was in no way a sensible pastime, especially when it was over a Slytherin. Even more especially when the Slytherin was Adrian Pucey.
Will frowned at himself. He couldn't understand why he felt so wounded when all Adrian had done was be stereotypically snarky. This was stupid - he shouldn't be feeling so gloomy because someone had been less than nice to him, and normally it wouldn't have bothered him at all. But, somehow, it hurt just that much more because it had been Adrian, which frustrated him even more. Will didn't want to be affected by anything the boy said or did or thought, but no matter how diligently he tried not to care, he nevertheless found himself caring anyway. That was the crux of the problem. Surely nothing could be worse than having - gasp! - a crush on Adrian Pucey.