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Ladylike. by ilharrypotter
Chapter 13: Of Best Friends and Targets.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!
I'm watching Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire right now! <3 Oh, how I love this movie. Read & review, everyone!
THIS IS NOT THE LATEST CHAPTER. Go back to the chapter before this! That is the latest. I made a stupid. (:
Image of Professor Divinity, made by Midnight_Witch at TDA!
All proper young ladies know who to befriend and who to avoid.
I walk into Professor Divinity’s classroom, dropping my Arithmancy textbook onto one of the low tables in the front of the classroom. It’s my usual table. Ever since I started taking Arithmancy when I was a third year, I sat right here. In the front row on the far right, not directly in the center- the Ravenclaws get rather testy when you snatch that spot- but close enough to being there. When I claimed this spot as mine two years ago, the seat next to me at the table remained empty. Hopefully, despite Wood’s newfound liking of torturing me, it would remain as such. I need my alone time, as I’d spent all of Charms sitting next to Wood, too far away from James and Fred, and too close to Lorcan to ignore him. (Professor Chang wants me to die.)
Professor Elladora Divinity is seated at her desk, flipping through the faded pages of a battered old book. I can’t even read the words on the cover, it’s so old. When she sees me dropping my things on my usual table, she puts down the ancient book and smiles broadly. The woman is the youngest professor at Hogwarts- she’s only six years older than her oldest students- and she’s by far the prettiest and the kindest professor Hogwarts has ever seen. She’s almost always smiling, and yet, she has a strangely powerful sense of control over students. She almost never has a discipline problem- of course, that might be because my cousins don’t take Arithmancy.
“Oh, my favorite Gryffindor,” she laughs. She laughs loudly, not in that annoyingly quiet, dulcet way most women do. Professor Divinity doesn’t seem like a professor to me half the time. She’s too young, nothing like stuffy old Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy professor, to really seem like a professor. “Good to see you back in my classroom, Miss Weasley.”
I settle down in my seat and smile. I can’t help but smile. Professor Divinity’s constant happiness is infectious. Everyone that takes Arithmancy will tell you that. “It’s good to be back- trust me,” I respond, pulling a bottle of ink and a new quill from the depths of my never-ending satchel.
“Oh, did you attend another cotillion this year?” Professor Divinity teases, gathering up her long blonde waves and knotting them fluidly at the back of her hair. I wish I could do that with my curls, instead of looking like a flustered scarecrow when they wildly stick out around my face. “Or is your mother too busy planning your debutante ball to worry about those?”
I grimace. “Both.”
She laughs again. “Then I suppose it would be good for you to be back.”
Before I have a chance to heartily agree and inform her of the ladylike rulebook I’d flipped through a few days ago- ninety percent of what I’ve read being rules I’ve broken since I first opened the book- a few of my classmates burst into the classroom. I turn to see who has entered: three Hufflepuffs, five Ravenclaws, and one Slytherin- I’ve never seen the Slytherin in my life. She’s tall, perhaps my height, and quite thin, and her black hair hangs loose and disheveled on her shoulders, straight-cut bangs falling over her forehead. She doesn’t look anything like the other girls from Slytherin, maybe because her facial features aren’t distorted from years of pureblood inbreeding and her eyes don’t look like they have the same capabilities as a Basilisk. In all honesty, the girl seems rather normal, minus the fact that she’s wearing a full Hogwarts uniform under her Slytherin robes.
“Take your seats,” Divinity calls out commandingly, while still smiling. She waves her hand towards the empty tables in front of her. “The first two rows of tables, please.”
The Slytherin girl looks straight at me before striding in my direction, dropping her satchel down in front of the empty chair next to me. Close up, I notice that her eyes are a kind mossy grey shade, not half as frightening as most of the Slytherin girls and their piercing green or blue orbs. She’s got a smattering of light freckles over her cheeks, and her black hair surrounds most of her face like a curtain when she leans forward. No, she’s definitely not like most girls. I could see Fred fancying a girl like her.
“May I sit?” she asks, her voice laced with an odd accent that wasn’t something I hear often in the United Kingdom. She has a pretty voice. Strange, but pretty.
When I nod, surprised that she so quickly chose the spot next to me, she drops her Arithmancy book next to me on the table with a loud thump and plops into the chair next to me without saying another word.
I thought I’d want solidarity during this class, but then I spot Wood striding through the doorway with his I-know-I’m-ridiculously-handsome swagger. His eyes light up when he sees me, and then his face falls disappointedly when he notices the girl sitting next to me. Thank Merlin for this girl, whoever she is. She’s my saving grace, honestly. I’d be in Askaban for murder by the end of the period if it wasn’t for her.
“Dom,” Wood says, walking up to my desk.
The girl next to me doesn’t turn to look at him, even though she surely saw him when he entered the classroom; there must be something wrong with the girl. Everyone stares at Holden Wood- even me, reluctantly. Especially if this is the first time they’ve ever seen him. But she acts as if she has no interest in him. I wish I was immune like that.
“I thought I asked you to save me a seat in Arithmancy this morning.” He looks truly disappointed, giving his brown eyes this abandoned puppy look, and I have to force myself to think straight and not stare at him. He looks exceptionally good, and I don’t want to be affected by that.
“Oh, I did,” I tell him, and his face brightens immediately. “Leave the classroom, take a left, and go all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. Launch yourself out the window, and you’ll find the seat I saved for you on your way down. Make sure you go headfirst!”
Wood frowns dejectedly, and the girl next to me lets out a loud laugh. I look towards her, smiling in thanks, and then turn smugly back in Wood’s direction.
“I think your collision with the ground this morning has thoroughly damaged your brain, Dom,” Wood finally says, his eyes landing on the girl next to me and the Slytherin crest on the top right corner of her robes. No matter how polite and gentlemanly Gryffindor boys can be, when placed in the presence of a Slytherin, they are about as courteous as prehistoric animals. The whole Slytherin versus Gryffindor thing really only bothers the males anymore; I don’t even let myself be too affected by it, unless we’re nearing a Quidditch match against them. Wood, of course, can’t stand the Slytherins, and his disgusted tone makes that quite clear. “A Slytherin? I think a visit to Madame Thomas is in order. Your head isn’t working properly.”
Before I can throw the very spiteful comment I have brewing in my mind- something about taking his head for a visit and jamming it up his own arse for so rudely insulting the girl sitting next to me- towards Wood, Professor Divinity stands up from her desk and claps her hands. Everyone in the class freezes in their seats and looks towards her, except Wood, who stupidly stands in the middle of the classroom and doesn’t take his eyes off of me.
“Excuse me, Mr. Wood, do you have somewhere to be?”
It’s a rhetorical question. Come on, Wood. Don’t strike out- just don’t give her an answer. Not even the most idiotic people would give Professor Divinity an answer to a question like that. It’s just bait for a class full of jokes at your expense. I know how the professor works. She’s very cheerful and all, but she has a biting wit, and once she hooks onto teasing someone for the day, she won’t relent until the class period is complete. She’s giving him a prime opportunity to either be her personal verbal whipping post or to fall into a seat and avoid merciless teasing. I don’t even want that kind of a fate for Wood. The last student she picked to be a victim cried. Of course, he was a bit of a pouf, and he was a Hufflepuff. Still, though. You don’t even wish things like that on your worst enemy.
“Erm… no, ma’am?”
Oh! So close! So close, and yet so far away. Holden Wood is not half as smart as everyone thinks he is. In fact, he’s a right git. Everyone in the class groans at his response, and Professor Divinity’s eyes light up. She’s got herself a new target.
“Incorrect,” she plainly states. She makes an audible noise of disapproval. “Five points from Gryffindor for pure stupidity. You belong in your seat, Mr. Wood.”
The girl next to me laughs out loud again as Wood trudges to the opposite side of the classroom, dropping into the one table in the first two rows at which no one else sits. She has a very feminine laugh, very high and bright. She turns to me while Professor Divinity begins to wave her wand at the chalkboard, a fluid strand of letters pouring from the tip and arranging themselves on the board.
“I’m Penelope Laurent,” the girl tells me, her crooked smile reminding me of Fred.
I crinkle my brow. Laurent is a French surname. I honestly hope the girl isn’t French. I’ve had enough with French people. Being one is enough, trust me.
“And you are?” she raises a thin black eyebrow, signaling that she expects me to respond.
“Dominique Weasley,” I answer quietly. Professor Divinity has begun to explain the number charts now printed neatly on the board before the class, and she has good ears. “I prefer Dom. Only Dom.”
No realization hits Penelope’s face; she continues watching me, as if she’s never heard the Weasley name before. I’m a bit surprised the girl hasn’t heard of my family or me yet. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but I’m well known at Hogwarts. If she’s in Slytherin, she’s heard of me for being a Weasley; if she knows anyone on a Quidditch team, she’s heard of me as a ruthless Beater and the Gryffindor Captain; if she were present at the Beginning of Term Feast the night before, she heard the whisperings of those in the Great Hall after James, Fred, and I executed my marvelous prank; if she’s got any magical heritage whatsoever, she’s heard of my family. However, her face is blank as if she’s completely unaware of who I am. How odd is that? It’s almost comforting to find someone who doesn’t know me.
She smiles after a moment or two. “And I prefer Penelope. Only Penelope.”
I return the smile. “If you were to meet my cousin James and tell him that, he’ll distort that name in more ways than you would’ve ever thought possible. He does it to me. There are over ten variations in James-language.”
“Is he just learning to talk?” she asks sincerely.
“Oh, no. He’s fifteen.”
Penelope lets out another loud laugh, and every person in the class look sharply in our direction. Wood’s eyes narrow from where he sits across the classroom. He disapproves of me laughing in the middle of class with a Slytherin girl, surely. Well, that’s a bonus. Maybe he’ll leave me alone now. I’ll have to spend more time around this Penelope girl. She’s the first girl I’ve met in years that doesn’t immediately bother me. She has a good sense of humor, she’s obviously not an airhead, she’s taking Arithmancy instead of the stupid art of Divination, and best of all- she isn’t swooning over Holden Wood. This girl is nothing like the typical Hogwarts female. Just like me- even though I occasionally swoon over Wood, but that doesn’t need to be publicly known.
“Who do you know from Puddlemere?” Penelope questions after the class has returned to their focusing on Professor Divinity’s lecture. She gestures towards my t-shirt, which clearly says Member underneath the team’s logo.
I glance down at the shirt. It was a Christmas present from the Wood family. “Actually, Wood’s father,” I tell her, pointing towards the aggravated yet gorgeous boy sitting across the classroom. “Oliver Wood- you’ve heard of him, haven’t you?”
Her mossy grey-green eyes widen, and her mouth opens ever so slightly. The melodramatic face would seem staged on anyone else, but it fit her. “You mean that total prat over there is the son of the great Oliver Wood?”
I think I just made my first female best friend.
Meet Penelope, the Slytherin! Penelope has got some stuff to change in Dom's life! (: What do you think?