Bughaw [cold as ice, never sweet, never nice]

The great hall was filled with students of different ages, like the typical start of term in Hogwarts. The older learners were already seated by the tables of their corresponding houses, while the first-years were still nervously fidgeting outside.

It reminded you of your earlier years as a Hogwarts student. It was that moment when no one had any definite idea of what house they would be put in or if they would finally be able to see colours if they had not yet.

"You seem to be reminiscent," a housemate beside you commented, which made you turn to her.

You saw the similar yellow that popped over the stark darkness of the black robe in the uniform of Hogwarts. Your eyes scanned the way her brown hair draped over her head like silk before you gave her a bright, beamy smile.

"Well, it's not everyday we have the sorting ceremony." You turned your head back at the entrance. "I guess I just missed the thrill of being ignorant about which of the four houses will be your home until you graduate."

"And the excitement of possibly seeing colours," she added gleefully. "I still feel bad about your situation, though. You still see just the spectrum of black to white, no?"

You nodded, lying.

The memory of colours bleeding to fill your vision for the first time was still as clear as crystals, and you wanted to do nothing else than erase it from your brain if you could. Zooming greens and yellows flooded your brain that day, leaving you perplexed on your feet. Only a second-year, you knew nothing of what to do in that situation; after all, there was only one whom you made eye contact with, and despite the young age of twelve, you knew that theboy was one of the most horrible people, if not the worst, that someone of your blood status could be paired up with.

"Maybe you don't have one?" she theorised. "You know, like Diggory?"

Due to the mention of his surname, you glanced in his direction. He sat opposite you and was far enough from you that you needed to shift in your seat just to comfortably look at him. Around him was his circle of friends, which consisted of the members of his quidditch team as well as his friends from the same year.

Another housemate of yours, now from your left, had joined in the conversation, his lips pouting in thought. "Impossible. Soulmateless people could see colors since the day they were born."

Cedric Diggory, the current Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain, a prefect turned Head Boy, and the champion of the Triwizard Cup last year, was one of the lucky wizards who had not been tied by innate bonds. Gifted from birth, he could see the world's beauty as soon as his eyes were able to open.

While others were admiring his skills and beauty, you spent most of your years wishing that you were just like him. After all, the ability to choose the partner you will have with no pressure is a privilege that you would certainly indulge yourself in.

"Soulmateless people are rare, so one could never say for sure." She squeezed in to reach him, as if making sure he heard whatever argumentative logic she was using. "Maybe [Surname]'s a special case."

He nodded, like he was actually considering whatever she was saying. As the two continued to talk with you between them, you watched the young witches and wizards with such interest. Eventually, you zoned out, and their voices, mixed with the not-so-distant chatter, turned into mere white noise.

When you tuned in once more, you found your eyes drifting towards a particular Slytherin, unconsciously searching for those gray, cold gazes. Realising what you were about to do, you averted your gaze to once again look at the male Hufflepuff by your left.

"I sure hope not. That's depressing if you think about it." He propped his left elbow on the table and placed his chin on top of his palm. "Living a colourless life, I mean."

They became silent for a minute or two, savoring the sad implications of your situation.

"Maybe her soulmate's among those first-years—"

"Blimey, no!" you remarked, louder than you would intend.

People's eyes snapped at you, your reaction catching their attention for a second. Curious stares wordlessly ask you what happened for you to react in such a manner. To make matters worse, not only were some of the teachers also looking at you, but him and Diggory had their eyes glued to you as well. Bowing at the teachers profusely, you muttered apologies mixed with profanities for the young man beside you.

Under the long tables of your house, your hand travelled to his thigh, pinching him hard while maintaining an unfaltering glare. His grin became crooked, a clear indication that he was indeed feeling the way your fingernails dug through the fabric of his robes and trousers—thank Merlin, he was wearing something thick.

"What is wrong with a four-year age gap?" he mused.

"What is not wrong with a four-year age gap with an eleven-year-old?" You scooted in closer to your female housemate, visibly disturbed by his jokes. "Honestly, do you want me to catch a case?"

He snickered, pleased.

"Can you imagine [Surname] snogging with a prepubescent?" He moved his eyebrows up and down in a playful manner, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "They'll put you in Azkaban if someone finds out, I tell you."

Shivering in disgust, you hit him by his left arm, causing his head to hit the table.

"Stop with your nonsense. The sorting ceremony's about to begin."

The first-years began walking after the signal of the deputy headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Their steps were unsynchronized, and there were occasional murmurs from the crowd of young students, yet everyone could see that they were doing their hardest not to cause a scene.

"I hope there'll be more Hufflepuffs this year," she said.

You turned to her, accidentally meeting eyes with Diggory. He smiled at you, which you returned with a crooked, almost awkward one.

"Likewise."