You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 21: Getting to Me
I drop the notes Abby turned to Braille for me onto the floor and stand up. My behind is numb, my back is killing me and I just want to lie down and do nothing for the rest of the night. Maybe if I ask nicely, one of my friends would bring me food back, so I wouldn't have to go to dinner. Hell, they'd probably think I was sick because I asked nicely, but if it means getting food brought to me, then sick I will be.
I hate exams. And revision. And exams. Did I already mention those evil, life-sucking, apparently important pieces of paper that should not exist?
Then one more time; I hate exams.
I fall backwards onto the couch, completely forgetting that Louis is sitting there until I throw my head back to rest over the top and I end up whacking his arm. He groans loudly and flexes his arm from under my head, but doesn't move it or ask me to move. I hear the dull thud of another book dropping to the floor and Jack's snort and we sit in silence until I lean into his side, turning my body so I'm at an angle.
"We're already into February, not long now and then we'll fly through the exams," he murmurs into my ear, and then he kisses behind it, his lips moving further and further down until he's close to my neck. Even with my head turned to allow him better access, I imagine he's in kind of an awkward position. His arms find their way around my waist and his lips end up back at my ear. I feel him smile. "I love this new game."
I roll my eyes, my head tipped to lean against his shoulder; I want him to see me roll my eyes. The game he started in January when we started dating is exactly what he said he'd do to make Jack uncomfortable; he kisses every available surface of my skin that he can without removing clothes. I knew I was right to be unsure of his game back then, I still am now. But at the same time, I'm rather fond of it. It can be a fun game to play, although when it gets to me I don't call it a game. It becomes 'Stop Teasing, Louis, or I'll dump you. My lips are up here'.
He doesn't seem to understand that.
And every time, he completely bypasses my lips. He says it's a hard thing to do, but he manages it.
(I tried to use that to get him to stop once... He didn't. The art of seduction is obviously not my forte.)
He prides himself on making 'such a difficult game' because, and these are Louis' words exactly, after the exposed and easily accessible face and neck, it gets rather tricky.
(He says he doesn't cheat when he moves my collar to gain access to my shoulders, but the rule is to not remove clothing and moving my collar removes said clothing from my shoulders. I refuse to accept that that is not cheating.)
The only times his lips are allowed to touch mine are for those brief brushes that last for less than a second when he says hello or good bye. They still don't count.
Today the game is getting to me. I want to relax; his game is not relaxing. "You're going to be the death of me," I mutter.
"Wouldn't you die a happy guy?" he asks innocently.
"He'd die an unsatisfied virgin," Jack snickers. Then he yelps. "Ow, Lucy! Pinching really hurts with nails."
"Then don't be an ass!"
"So pinching with nails hurts, but not without nails?" I ask as innocently as I can. Screw Weasley; I pinch his arm. He moans. "Nope, that's not true."
He pinches right back, in my side between my ribs and my hip and his hand is under my t-shirt so he is getting actual skin. At least when I did it, it was over whatever long-sleeved thing he's wearing. Maybe I should make it a rule to not physically hurt Louis because he'll easily do it back. I rub my side and move forwards to sit up. "Skin contact is not cool. I didn't move the sleeve. What the hell are you wearing anyway?"
"You know you’re really comfortable grey jacket that you love so much because it's nice and soft and keeps you warm?" he asks.
"Yeah," I nod slowly.
"Well, I couldn't find it, so I'm wearing your other one, which is exactly the same only in blue."
"Seriously, not cool," I growl. "Going through my trunk is worse than the pinching of skin."
"It's a good job it was on top of it then." He moves before my arm swings back, I hit the back of the couch instead. "I'm going to use the bathroom."
"Put my jacket back!" I yell as he walks away.
"No! It's comfy! How much do you regret wanting me to use that word now?" is the last thing he says before he disappears up the stairs. I should have known my appealing personality would turn him into a dick. As someone who has pretty much mastered the art of being a dick, others are easy to spot.
"You've destroyed my cousin," Lucy states quietly, probably too absorbed in her revision. "He says no to me now, blows me off to be with you. Do you know how long it took me to get him to do whatever I asked?"
"Probably about as long as it took for Jack to ask you out," I smirk, taking Louis' previous spot on the couch and leaning back into the corner.
Lucy snickers. "It didn't take that long."
"Hey, you could have asked me out, except you were too scared of what everyone else would think," he defends himself. He's loud enough for others around the common room and probably upstairs to hear, too. "Why does it seem like you're being punished?" he asks me, completely ignoring Lucy's muttered 'was not'.
I shrug. "It's me we're talking about; it could be a number of things. I think it's because of what I said to him this morning," I murmur, really speaking to myself and not them.
"What did you say to him?"
What part of 'speaking to myself' did Jack not pick up on when I murmured?
"Oh, don't you look at me like that. I noticed; I'm ignoring the fact that you don't want to tell me."
I raise an eye-brow, my finger pointed at my heart and my lips curved in an unwanted smile. "Did you just scold me?"
"Like you were a little boy," he confirms.
Hearing that brings back memories of Louis and handholding and a very poor choice of words on my part. Damn him. Not that he knows. I clear my throat, feeling my face grow hot.
"What are you thinking about?" Lucy asks.
"Don't smirk at me; I don't have to see you to know when you're smirking at me. And I'm not saying." I turn my head when I hear nearby footsteps and I groan loud enough for Louis to hear me once I know it's him. "Are you still here?"
He pushes my head to the side with his hand and takes my previous position on the couch, so he's now leaning against my side. He even makes sure to move my arm out of the way, so it's now resting on his shoulders. "Shush you. Your words still hurt me; you have no right to send me away like I was the bad guy today."
"What did he say to you?"
"Oh, don't worry about that," I reassure him and ignore Jack. I'll probably tell him later anyway. "I could never consider you a bad guy. A bit of a dick on occasion, I'll admit, but Carrie gave me the bad guy title when I was eight and broke her tea set. She was very fond of that set."
"Then why did you break it on her?" Louis asks, puzzled.
I shrug lightly. "She hurt my feelings, said I was acting like a girl. In her defence, I was playing with the dolls and the tea set. It was a rainy day."
"And why were you playing with those things?"
"We were having a history lesson; divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. The surviving wife was celebrating." Despite all of our jokes about him needing to leave, well, my jokes, my hand still finds his way down his arm and to his own. I think it's hormones, mixed with his games. It's not a very healthy combination. Things were way more fun when it was just me who annoyed people like this; at least I only did this when they deserved it. How can I deserve this?
...It's a rhetorical question.
"And in my defence, it was a complete accident," I continue. "I knocked the table when I was trying to leave; the tea set fell and smashed. She got a new one, but I was still the bad guy."
"She's punished him with shopping ever since," Jack finishes, a guess on his part because I never told him.
I nod anyway, it is actually true. Partly anyway. Lucy's question to Jack about his Charms revision leads them to having their own conversion and we lapse into a comfortable silence. I doubt it'll last; Louis likes to talk while sober as well as drunk, he's just not as fast. Or he likes to talk to me. "Where are Kyle and Luka?"
"Do you really want to get rid of me today?" he asks quietly.
I squeeze his hand again. "No," I promise. "You just haven't talked about them in a while, that's all. Are they still -"
"Fighting?" he interrupts quietly. "No. They are being scarily polite to each other. I believe all hell will break loose if they don't sort things out properly soon. Maybe you should talk to them; people seem to listen to you."
"Who the hell listens to me?" I ask surprised. No, I think surprise is an understatement. It's the full on 'what the hell?' kind of shock. It's on a whole other scale to the one Jack made about me.
"Jack went to you for advice twice and them bring together has not brought the world to an end. You must have said something right." I shrug awkwardly. I can help my friends because I know my friends. Kyle and Luka are Louis' friends; I have no idea what they're like or how I'd even start. I'd probably make things worse.
"I'd better not," I mutter. I sit up, making Louis move forwards, and stretch my legs. “If our life was a book, would it be a best-seller or would people think ‘what the hell?’” I say randomly.
Maybe my change of subject should have been about getting ready for dinner instead. I have no idea where that came from. It’s odd, even for me. Then again, I’m not all that surprised. Are they?
“Who wrote the book?” Louis sounds too casual to be faking, so he’s not surprised either. Note to self: be less predictable.
“I did. It’s the autobiography I’ll write when I’m famous,” I answer. “You know I’m going to be famous for something. Or infamous, I haven’t decided yet.”
“We’re all thinking ‘what the hell?’ then. You have a habit of exaggerating things.” My hand collides with his chest, though not painfully. “Did you want me to lie?”
“I do not lie; I manipulate the truth to suit me.” I falter at the end, just enough for them to know that even I’m not so sure I really believe my own words. I’m not going to admit to that, though. That’d be like admitting defeat. Only cowards do that and I’m not a coward. I merely pick my battles.
“Just like manipulating the situation is not the same as cheating,” Louis continues sarcastically.
“Exactly. See, you do understand. The elbow in the stomach was not necessary,” I groan. “Pain and games, no wonder no one is allowed to be my friend; I corrupt easily.”
“I wouldn’t put that in your book,” Lucy tells me. I agree. “Right, I’m going to get ready for dinner, and then we can go. That’s enough studying for today, don’t you think?” I gape at that. Seriously. Jack asks if she’s sick, he sounds genuinely worried. "As soon as Hogwarts is over, I'm getting a new name for myself because you act all weird when I stop studying." I open my mouth to give a suggestion. "I'm not opening a chocolate shop just so you can be the official taster!"
Damn. "Yeah, we'll see!"
I nudge Louis. "Do you want me to ban chocolate?" I shake my head. "Then no. Open your own chocolate shop."
"Maybe Jay will." I consider that. My birthday is a few months away; I could have a chocolate shop by then. Or a chocolate factory!
...I have lost my mind. The universe has caused my brain to melt. It was only a matter of time.
"Ignore his obsession with sugar; he gets anxious around exam period and he tries to eat a lot." Oh, Jackson, shut up. "He also does it when he's really upset or really angry with someone."
"Jackson!" I throw a cushion in his direction. "He already knows this, don't scare him into running away."
"I'm not going anywhere," Louis whispers in my ear. "He love you too much to want to scare me away from you. Plus I think he's a little afraid of you."
Jack throws the cushion back at me, while we laugh, and says adamantly that he is not afraid of me. I'm just crazy. Maybe he's afraid of me because I'm crazy. That would be hilarious if it were true, though I'm too tired to figure out why. It's probably something really simple. "So, tell me about the book you'll write when your infamous."
"Because it's about you and you should know by now that now that I like knowing things about you," he answers like it's as simple as Jack being scared of me being hilarious. "Do the readers like me?"
"Are you going to kiss me any time soon?" He says no. "Then no, the readers don't like you. You're being mean, teasing me. They want you to kiss me and you're hurting them."
"I bet they secretly like that I respect your decision to make it special," Louis states. "Because all of this self-control is really hard, even after almost a year of practice."
I scoff. "I'm just so irresistible. I'll have to take your word for it, if you're about to agree. And my readers also don't like when I'm reminded of your relationships with Justin and Tyler. It puts me in a state of depression that only a jar of chocolate spread and a spoon can pull me out of. Not because you're reminding your current boyfriend of your previous boyfriends, but because your previous boyfriends are awful people."
"Noted." Louis pulls me closer to him, wrapping me into a hug. "I'll definitely fix that so your readers like me for something."
"They like your choice in men," I smirk. Then it turns into a smaller, but more genuine smile, and my arms find their way around his waist. I don't care that Jackson is making fake gag noises or that there are people around us; this is a nice moment. "They like that you say crazy things to make me smile and you care. There, that's three reasons already. Even though they have to like you for those reasons because it's my book, so that's obviously what they have to read."
"I can't wait to read this book," he says just before Lucy comes back down and tells us to get off our asses and go to dinner.
She doesn't let me lie here and have dinner brought up for me. Such a shame.
"What's got you looking so serious all of a sudden?"
I find Louis' hand, so we're side-by-side and he can lead the way back to my common room, and I ask him a question of my own. "Do you go home for the Easter holidays?"
"Yes. Do you? Why are we talking about this?"
"I do and I need a new excuse as to why I can't see my grandparents until the summer. Are my NEWTs are good excuse?"
Louis stops me and we wait until the stairs come back before moving again. "Why don't you want to see your grandparents?"
"Because they're crazy." He nudges me. "Because they ask me really awkward questions about myself. I'd rather not talk about my love life, especially now that I have a potential love life to talk about."
"Maybe instead of avoiding them, you should go into as much detail as possible and make them so uncomfortable that they stop asking," he offers. I shake my head; no way is that happening. I can't do that. "That is what I did. They were already feeling awkward because I'd just told them I was gay, so it didn't really take much."
"Thank you for the suggestion, but I do actually like my family," I answer him. "I just don't want to talk to them about my private life. Private being the key word and all."
"You don't tell anyone about anything, Key."
I stop and step back until I'm against the wall, hurt by the bitterness in his tone. "I tell you," I whisper. "You know everything."
Louis pulls me closer, doesn't allow me to let go of his hand. "I know and I'm glad, but I shouldn't be the only one you talk to. You don't even tell your best friends everything. You have every right to keep your secrets, but please don't shut people out of your whole life. Or at least think about not doing so."
"You've been thinking about this for a while," I realize.
"Yeah. You're usually distracting me, especially when you talk to me about your life."
I huff, pouting a little, but shrug. "I hate when you try to give me life lessons and make me a better, more open person."
"Changing you is impossible. I'd never be able to do it and I don't want to, so don't worry about that. Just call it advice," he says after a pause. "Take it from someone who understands this well; if you don't have people you can be close to and talk to, you'll start to feel alone and that really sucks."
"You forget I've been in the dark for almost fifteen years, I know exactly how that feels." I move close enough to him that he knows what I want. It's still the same few seconds, though. You'd think now would be the perfect opportunity. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart," I say softly, then walk away to the common toon door. I say the password and step inside. "And I meant what I said this morning; you are an inconsiderate asshole for jumping on me and will you stay the fuck out of my room. Swearing; that's how serious I am."
But I know he'll be in my room to wake me in the morning, probably earlier than usual.
I also knew that would be the only thing he'd pick up on. "You started it with all of this 'baby' nonsense," I point out. "You made it worse with your little game. But you know what you need to do if want it to stop."
Note to self number two: never underestimate Louis Weasley.
"I've never had a pet name before; I like it."
Oh, come on!
A/N: One: I said this would be finished and posted on Saturday, but I was writing on my iPod and it died and my brother had my charger, so I didn't get to finish and post it like I wanted.
Two: This is filler-y, I know, but it has hints and stuff in for next chapters. Chapters I hope you'll like. :)
Three: The book? lol. I bet Ciaran having a book about him would be both fun and scary, especially if he wrote it himself. :P
Four: Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded,survived - the order of Henry the VIII's wives.
I hope you like this chapter and I'm so sorry for the long wait. Also, thank you everyone who has voted for Ciaran for Best OC. :D