You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
Cheating the Bet by Ryebread
Chapter 1: Heat of the Moment?
Thanks, Carousel., for the image! :)
I paced around the dimly lit corridors, not even pretending to continue my prefect patrols, wondering how this whole thing got started. At first I was arguing with that gigantic arse, Albus Severus Potter (which is what I love to call him when I’m especially annoyed at him because it truly is a hideous name) like always, then we just got closer and closer and then… I shuddered at the thought.
It’s not my fault. I couldn’t help myself. Besides, he kissed me first! And it’s not like I could control myself, being a hormonal, teenage girl. Plus, it was very good, I suppose. Brilliant, you could even say, even though I have nothing to compare it to, but from what I heard from my friends and dorm-mates, it would be classified as amazing. At the moment I can almost feel Potter’s lips smashing down on mine and his hands…
Whoa there! I thought. Stop thinking about Potter like that, Alice Marie Longbottom! You know better. You hate him, remember?
How did it get to this, you might ask? Well, here it goes. Enjoy, as I unfortunately did.
Flashback to patrols:
“Wow, Longbottom. Never been snogged at sixteen? It’s pitiful. It must be horrifying for you, but I don’t blame all the blokes. Who wants to snog a troll anyway?” taunted Potter with his trademark smirk plastered on his face, enjoying my misery, as we watched the halls and argued without thinking, which is what got me into this situation.
I felt my face burn up and anger burned inside of me.
“Well, at least I am not some man-whore that sleeps around with any and everybody I want and then leaves the girl like she’s nothing! At least I am not some spoiled arse who lives off of Daddy-dearest’s fame and fortune, using it as an excuse to do all of the horrible and disgusting things you do,” I yelled, his smirk disappeared and mine appeared as I mentioned the daddy comment. It was always a nice one to bring out when I was particularly raging mad.
I could see that I had gotten to him and just for a moment, I let the smug smile grow larger on my face and I flipped my long, dirty blonde hair. His jaw was clenched and his hands were curled up tightly into fists by his sides, shaking in rage. But his eyes, sparkling emerald green in the corridor torchlight, only displayed hurt and sadness, not the fury and hatred that his body portrayed.
I paused for a moment, feeling confused and guilty, but only for a second, as the look in his eyes was gone when I peeked back at him, so I tried to ignore it, but the suspicion that I was missing something wouldn’t go away. It lingered in my brain, staying at the edge of my thoughts so that I wasn’t focusing on it, but it was there, teasing me.
“What!?” I screamed at him. “Tired of being a sleaze? I bet you couldn’t go one month without running off with one of your bimbos to a broom closet.” Potter’s smirk found its way back onto his face, making me think that he knew something I didn’t. His face looked triumphant and giddy mixed with his usual self-conceit and arrogance.
“Yeah? You want to take that bet? Let’s say twenty galleons?” Then Potter reached out his hand towards mine to shake.
“You are going down, Potter. That twenty galleons is all mine,” I said arrogantly, narrowing my hazel eyes, and then, I extended my hand.
Attention readers: This is where I make my mistake. This is where shit hits the fan.
I took his hand in mine and shook it. Almost immediately, I felt a shock. Not a static-electricity shock or a muggle-hand-buzzer-shocking-toy shock. It was like I felt all of the electricity and chemistry flow between us, which is absolutely ridiculous because there is nothing between us except our joined hands and the air we breathe... and, yet, as I looked into Potter’s eyes, I knew he felt the same way about it. He felt that shock and the attraction that came with.
In an instant, he pulled me toward him and crushed his soft lips to mine. They fit perfectly together.
He was snogging me like there was no tomorrow and I was doing the exact same thing back, not once thinking about the consequences of snogging the life out of my sworn mortal enemy.
He dropped his hand from mine and, quickly, they made their way to my hips, fingers spreading out as wide as they possibly could, covering my hips fully, and pulling me closer to him, our heated bodies pressed against each other. My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they entangled in his jet black, messy, just-woke-up hair. Before I even knew what had happened, my back was against the corridor wall and then, as hastily as it started, we were done. I didn’t know how, but it was over, and I couldn’t help thinking about why I didn’t push him away. Although, at the same time, I wanted to pull him back to me and continue where we left off.
Potter backed away, so that we were standing about three feet apart from each other. Both of us were staring at the other with no words spoken between us, breathing heavily. My heart was racing and, though I couldn’t prove it, I would bet his was, too. Again, his eyes confused me with a hopeful gleam in them, but, like always, it was gone in on the spot. Potter was an expert at hiding his emotions, keeping them from my searching gaze with roamed all over his face like a spotlight.
All of a sudden, the realization of what I had just done hit me like the Hogwarts Express.
“No one can know,” I pleaded frantically. “No one, Potter, you got that?” Al—I mean Potter just nodded, looking vaguely like he was disappointed, but that was just a crazy thought and I couldn’t be certain about his expressions anyways. Who was I to know how the famous Albus Severus Potter thought?
Then, as if nothing had happened between us, he started smirking again. I felt relief for a moment at the normalcy of it. Maybe it would all go back to like it was before and no one would be the wiser, but then he spoke.
“Well, Longbottom, I guess you had your first snog,” he said, snickering at my horrified face, though it didn’t look as though his heart was in the teasing. Potter, at that moment, proceeded to turn around, with his hands tucked lazily in his pockets, and walk down the corridor into the darkness, leaving me to think about how much I would love to hate that kiss and how much I hate to love it. I couldn’t deny it or lie to myself about it. I wanted more; more of him.
When he was out of sight, I slid down the wall and sat with my head between my knees and my hands gripped tightly together around my legs, and tried to slow my racing heart. I wondered, for a second, if he felt that way, as well. I wondered if he felt the attraction, but then I dismissed the thought. Why would Potter think about me in that way?
He constantly ignored me as a child and as soon as we started going to Hogwarts, Potter made it his goal to annoy and irritate me as much as possible.
Besides, attraction was all it was, nothing more. I never denied that he was drop dead gorgeous and we got caught up in the heat of the moment, right? Or maybe we were just exhausted because of studying and, then, on top of all that, we had to patrol the halls of Hogwarts because of our prefect duties. I mean, I did feel tired. Yeah, that must be it. There was nothing more to this. I hated him and he hated me. That is just how it works and nothing would change. How could I even fall for an arrogant, womanizing prat like Potter anyway?
Famous last words.