Chapter 11 : Irony
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 26|
Background: Font color:
I’ve had this chapter idea since the start– it was actually the first thought that popped into my head when I created the idea of Ella Finster. Not sure about this chapter as it’s sort of the end of the last one and is meant to be more heart-warming than humorous.
WARNING: WOOD AND ELLA OVERLOAD!
APOLOGIES FOR ANY BAD GRAMMAR OR SPELLING, THIS IS THE FIRST DRAFT!
Anyways, hope you enjoy :)
Something warm was tickling my ear.
Assuming it was Magic my cat, I shifted my head to the side and threw an arm behind me to dissuade him from waking me up.
I opened one eye.
Since when did cats go ‘ouch’? Or had I merely heard wrong? Or was this all a strange dream where animals could talk. It wasn’t as if I’d never dreamed that before. I remember the whole pink elephant dressed as Professor Dumbledore dream quite vividly-
The pillow beneath my head moved, jolting my head to the left suddenly, causing me to bite my cheek. Absently massaging the pain, I wrinkled my nose and attempted to ignore all the disruptions and get back to my well earned rest. The week had been a stressful one, I thought drifting slowly into the land of nod, so I deserved a well earned rest.
De dum, de dum, de dum.
I opened my eyes.
What was that?
De dum de dum…
Why was my pillow making strange noises? Since when did pillows have a heartbeat?
Or move up and down as though breathing?
Or have a rib cage?
Or smell of….aftershave?
My eyes flew open.
What had I done last night?
Trying to draw in as many calming breaths as possible, I scanned my mind through the thoughts of ‘bugger’, ‘damn’ and ‘hobnob’ to find some coherent logic that would explain the situation. But then again this was I and coherence and logic had never been my strongest points.
They say stress and traumatic experiences can lead to repressed memory or forgetfulness and that, I reasoned, was most likely the reason I was unable to think straight. Either that or Indy and I had been at the firewhisky again. Yet judging from the firm muscular chest that was providing my head with a nice pillow, I narrowed my options down to the idea that my companion was of the male variety, unless I’d cosied up to that manlike fourth year Slytherin by accident. This meant it had not been a night time adventure with Indy and that I’d done something much much worse…
Oh no had I ended up with Billy again? Had that idiot managed to charm me back? Had I been knocked on the head and lured back into his arms?
Please god…no one could be that cruel.
A nice smell reached my nose, causing me to sniff cautiously without attracting too much attention. It had a tangy smell of sweat, earth, aftershave and hard work….the essence of a true man.
But Billy didn’t smell like this – he smelt like an over hair sprayed idiot, who’d enjoyed the pleasures of too many women and their perfumes and then jumped into a vat of slimeball. Billy smelt more feminine than I did sometimes.
No, this was a manly smell, a quite nice manly smell actually…mmm…
No. No. No. That is not the point right now, I poked myself in the arm to bring myself back down to earth. It was more important to try and remember what the hell had happened last night.
I was walking to charms club….met George….got kidnapped….
Oh sugary turnips and sprouts.
It all came flashing back to me in a hideous collection of things you’d rather were left hidden. Those memories you keep stored in the shoebox at the back of your wardrobe with pictures of you with an afro that seemed like a good idea at the time or the three inch platforms you swore you’d wear forever. Yep, some memories were better kept hidden…and this was definitely one of them.
Silently cursing whatever divine lord had inflicted this terrible fate upon my poor unsuspecting soul, I tried to keep calm and rational when all I wanted to do was get up and run from there as fast as possible. But, I thought sourly as I stared at the shiny metal handcuff, that really wasn’t an option right now. Escape plan thwarted I realised with a sinking heart that the only option left to me was waking up the giant himself.
Without compromising myself any further.
Plucking up the courage to turn round and try and prod him awake, I took another cautious sniff to make sure that it was indeed Wood and that my life had officially ended.
“Why are you sniffing me?” came the confused reply from behind me, causing much loss of breath and eye popping shock.
Dreading what I was about to see, I slowly looked over my shoulder and met the brown sparkled eyes of a certain Quidditch captain. Eyebrows raised, mouth hanging open in shock I attempt before I did what any other self respecting teenage girl would do in this situation-
Scream. Very very loudly….
Causing him to suddenly loose his balance, falling back onto his back onto the hard wooden floor….
And dragging me with him.
Before I knew what was happening, my wrist was jerked through the air, following Wood’s progress and pulling me along for the ride. As Wood lay haphazardly across the floor, I lay sprawled inelegantly across him.
Eyes wide, I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly like a demented fish before attempting to sit up and look at Wood in shocked disgust as he stared at me in wide eyed wonderment.
“Why is it you are always falling on top of me?” he asked curiously.
“What?” I bit out, wanting to move from the position but unable to do so because of the handcuff problem.
“This is the second time in two weeks that we’ve ended up in this position,” he looked bemused and cocky as he attempted a pun. “Anyone would think you were falling for me.”
“Only people who were deaf, mad, blind and stupid would assume that and even then the chances of them making such a mistake would be doubtful,” I snapped, attempting to remove myself from the sprawled position.
“Then why were we in such a position?” he asked, ignoring my attempts to move.
“That was your fault!” I cried.
“I doubt that,” he looked smug. “You were quite content in using me as your sleeping companion and drool pillow.”
“I do not drool and anyway what was your arm doing around my waist?” I shook my finger in his face threateningly.
“What was your head doing on my chest,” he countered accusingly.
“It’s your fault,” I shoved him hard in the chest. “If you weren’t such a baboon-“
“If you weren’t such a shrew,” he retorted pinning my hands.
“Then we wouldn’t be in this mess!” We shouted together.
Frustrated, annoyed, angry and any other synonym of these the English language possessed, I pushed at his chest again to move myself from the position I was in.
However, Wood felt it would be a good idea to push at the same time and soon we were engaged in a breathy battle of push and shoving each other on the floor. I would twist one way and would end up pulling the ninny with me, he would twist another and I’d go sprawling again. Before I knew what was happening our wrestling match had descended into chaos and I was pinned to the floor…
Out of breath, all I could do was pant and stare angrily at him as his body loomed above me.
“This is not helping,” he bowed his head slightly, causing his breath to tickle my face.
“Can you get off me please,” I shuddered, uncomfortable with the close proximity. Far more dutifully than I’ve ever seen him before, he hastened to remove himself from atop me and shuffled into a sitting position.
An awkward silence filled the air.
“Um….” I gulped, looking in the opposite direction from him whilst inwardly squirming.
“Er….” He scratched his head and focussed on a spot in the other direction.
“Ew….” We both muttered under our breaths, causing us to look at each other in surprise.
“Look….nothing happened,” I nodded trying to make myself believe that. “We just woke up in an awkward position that was no way intended to signify a change in our relationship,” damn that wasn’t the right word. “I mean…er…acquaintance.”
“Yeah,” Wood was happy to jump on this bandwagon. “It was merely that the room was freezing and that our bodies realised we needed to preserve body heat.”
“Yeah….that was why we were…um…” I gestured between us. “Perfectly understandable.”
“Yeah especially as it’s us,” Wood said distractedly.
“What?” I blinked.
“I mean…er….because…you…know,” he scratched his head as he looked uncomfortable. “You’re my girl friend’s sister….er….”
“Step sister,” I hissed.
“Yeah…that,” he agreed, failing to follow this with the point of his comment. Not wishing to dig into murky waters, I let the comment slide and we slipped into an awkward silence.
What was with us and these awkward silences? You could cut the tension in here with a knife.
Well, I reasoned, essentially ‘sleeping’ together and then sprawling across each other didn’t really leave sensible, tense free situations. It led to bloody awkward hide under the pillow moments….unfortunately my pillow at the moment was the person I was wishing to hide from.
Ready to twiddle my thumbs, I realised the best thing to distract us from that moment a few minutes ago was to begin an argument.
“It’s still your fault,” I sniffed, scratching my chin. “You overgrown numpty.”
“Shrew,” he seemed happy to join in the argument.
“Trout nosed dung beetle!”
Ten minutes later…..argument still in full flow….
“You’re barmy,” he muttered. “Definitely got some stuffing missing from your pillow.” He yawned widely and scratched his chest.
“Says you,” I snorted as I felt movement beside me. What was he doing? Hopefully not more scratching.
“Says me,” he agreed. “If you shake your head enough can you hear the loose screws rattling around?”
Scowling and turning round to utter a mean rebuke, I instead let out an undignified squeak when I found myself staring at the muscles of his bare chest.
Eyes widening I continued to stare open mouthed, doing a fish impression before some logical leaver in my head was pulled and my hand flew up to cover my eyes. Thankful I could now gather my thoughts without staring at the…er…’chiselledness’ of Wood’s body, I tried to force my face into righteous indignation and disgust.
“Can you please not do that,” I gestured vaguely in the direction of his now bare chest.
Or I hope I was gesturing in that direction; it was a bit hard to see with your eyes covered up.
“What?” he asked.
“Cover yourself up please, I do not wish to be treated to a strip show before I’ve had my breakfast,” I shuddered with disgust, trying to ignore whatever thoughts my head was having.
“I pity the poor bugger who’s going to be married to you then,” I heard him mutter, followed by the rustling of clothing that I assumed meant he was buttoning his shirt back up again.
“What were you doing that for anyway?” I asked, feeling it was safe to open my eyes again.
“I just wanted to change my shirt,” he shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”
“The fact this,” I rattled the handcuffs, “means that clothes cannot by removed.”
“Why the hell do people use handcuffs in their kinky shenanigans then?” he seemed perplexed. “If you can’t take off your clothes when your wearing them.”
“I think the whole point is clothes are removed prior to the…er…tying up,” I blushed brilliantly, resembling an overripe tomato.
“Okay….” Wood seemed to grow uncomfortable about the conversation
Right….this was definitely one conversation I never pictured having, especially not with Wood. Hands up for the awkward situation.
“Perhaps we should think about getting these removed,” Wood cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension once again.
“How can we do that?” I asked. “The stupid door is locked.”
“Really?” Wood seemed shocked by this piece of news.
“Yes….why else do you think we had to spend the night here….?” I was thoroughly confused by his reaction.
“No reason,” he avoided eye contact, deciding it would be better to try and move towards the door and test the lock. ]
“But-“ I followed reluctantly in his wake still trying to process his comment. If he thought we weren’t locked in they why hadn’t he tried to leave and find a teacher….?
“It’s open,” he stated, turning the handle and so saying he dragged me through it.
“I’m bored now,” I muttered as Wood pulled me along corridor after corridor.
For thirty minutes we’d been walking to school and the grounds trying to find a teacher to remove the cuffs. Having decided it would be more practical to take a more discreet route – which also happened to be the long route – to the school so no one saw our predicament, we had returned to the main hall and found it completely empty.
So was the rest of the school it appeared.
“Yeah well I wouldn’t exactly call this the highlight of my life,” he scowled, looking down one corridor before continuing along the one we were already on.
“Where is everybody in this damn school,” I complained. “Why is it so hard to find someone to remove these damn things?”
“Quit complaining,” he opened a classroom door, peered in and then moved on when he found it was empty.
“I’m sorry, am I meant to be skipping in joy at this predicament,” I said fakely bright, doing a quick skip in sarcasm.
“No, you are meant to be keeping quiet while I try and solve this problem,” he hissed, pulling me through an arch and into yet another hall.
“Oh great, here comes the stereotypical andocentric demonstration that is so typical of your sex,” I hissed bitterly. “The whole ‘saviour’ routine that is so annoying and so anti-feminist! Why is it all men assume that women can’t take care of themselves? Why is it-“
“Just shut up!” Wood cried turning round and placing his hand over my mouth, unable to cope with my rant any longer.
I narrowed my gaze at him, trying to decide whether or not I should be mean and bite his hand.
“Please can you just let me deal with the situation?” He implored. “It may have escaped your notice but I have a Quidditch game to play in in around twenty minutes and I need both hands to do that. Can you please just be quiet so I can get us out of this mess?”
Okay….when he put it like that.
Shrugging slightly and rolling my eyes, I agreed to his statement, deciding against biting his hand which he promptly removed from my mouth.
“Thank you,” he sighed in relief.
“I just wish we could find someone,” I sighed, leaning back against the wall and wishing with all my might some saviour would come round the corner.
“Mr Wood! Miss Finster!”
Oh double damn with knobs on.
I didn’t meant that particular saviour….
Gulping so deeply I feared that bobbly thing at the back of my throat was swallowed and then I would choke on it (cue life flashing before your eyes type moment), I turned round slowly on the ball of my foot.
“Hi professor,” I attempted a weak wave as Wood and I hid the handcuffs behind out backs. “I love the hat….is it new?” I tried a fake smile.
“Miss Finster please cut the chit chat,” she turned her narrowed gaze on me, causing my lips to seal quickly. “I’m not in the mood for pleasantries.”
“What are you two doing here?” she looked back and forth between the two of us. “Why aren’t you at the Quidditch match? Why are you wandering around an empty school?”
“We-“ I began.
“Ella was just giving me some early morning tutoring before practice,” Wood interrupted, sending McGonagall a dazzling smile. “Fulfilling the duties you asked us to perform.”
She looked cynical at this suggestion, so we inched closer together and smiled widely at her, hoping beyond hope she would believe this and move on.
“Good….” She still sounded doubtful.
We heaved sighs of relief and moved away from each other again.
“Wait...what are you hiding behind your backs?” She took a step forward.
We took a step back.
“Um…” I bit my lip. “Nothing.”
“Let me see what you are hiding. Is it dungbombs, fake wands?” She got angrier with each suggestion.
“It’s nothing,” we began but it was all in vain.
McGonagall pushed us apart and blinked widely at our joined wrists.
“Mr Wood!” McGonagall shrieked. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I’m sorry Professor I can explain-“ He seemed to cower in fear at the very sight of her, something that you didn’t expect a six foot bulk of a boy to do. His eyes held a look of fear, his body seemed to shake with nerves and there was a slight tremor in his voice.
I’ll admit McGonagall was a pretty intimidating sight; the stick like posture, the pursed lips and narrowed eyes. Even at just over five foot she could easily kill a man with a look, but really apart from that what was the worst she could do?
“You are twenty minutes late to the Quidditch match; you have missed your team briefing and the coin toss!” She shook with barely contained anger. “You are the captain of the Quidditch team Mr Wood! Do you truly think this inexcusable behaviour is appropriate for a captain?”
“No professor,” he bowed his head and directed his last statement to his shoes.
“After your recent behaviour at Quidditch practice and the terrorising of Miss Finster here over the past week your immaturity seems to be taking control!” McGonagall was on a role, directing punches and hits here and there. I half expected someone to jump out of the side waving a flag and yelling, ‘You go girl!’…..but um….that didn’t happen.
“You are no longer the conscientious student that I once knew Mr Wood,” she began her final attack. “This year you have become lazy, disinterested and too obnoxious for your own good. The number of complaints I have received about your actions is astounding,” yeah….I may have left her a few notes over the past week….but um I never expected she’d read them or use them in her attack. “And now I find you have attached yourself to Miss Finster and are dragging her around the school on one of your mad ideas! How dare you treat a young lady this way just to have some hanky panky! Mr Wood never in all my years have I seen such drastic display,” she shook with anger at the violation of me.
“Mr Wood I believe that the only course of action I can take,” she drew in breath deeply and sharply, “is to remove you as captain of Gryffindor Quidditch Team.”
Okay….I didn’t expect that to happen.
Neither did Wood, if his wide-eyed-heart-stopped-beating-I’m-dying-look was anything to go by.
“But how am I meant to get my scholarship without being on the team?” he finally gulped, shaking his head in confusion. “I need the captaincy for my future….what am I meant to do?”
“I think after your recent behaviour you can forget about any scholarship,” she sniffed primly. “This behaviour is not the sort any self respecting Quidditch team would want brought into their ranks. You will also serve a months suspension from Quidditch.”
“But what about today’s match?”
“I’m sure your substitute will come up to muster,” McGonagall dismissed this argument.
“Mr Wood I am not to be argued with!” she bristled with anger. “Anymore of your back talk and we’ll be talking banning you from playing Quidditch as well!”
That shut him up.
Wood, swallowed deeply from next to me as full shock began to sink in. Pinning his gaze to the floor, I sensed he was battling an inner turmoil of emotions and willing them not to spill out.
“Now I would suggest you both return to the common room and think over what mischief has been caused,” she sniffed. “Please try and not murder each other on the way.”
With a decisive nod in our direction and a withering glance at our shocked stance, she stalked off up the stairs, black robes billowing around her.
“Er…professor?” I called timidly, breaking the silence that had engulfed the hall. Wood was still sullenly refuse to speak or move.
“What Miss Finster,” she turned coldly towards me on the third step.
“Could you remove the handcuffs please?” I raised the aforementioned offending objects.
With a wave of her wand the handcuffs disappeared.
“Please do not let yourself get tangled up in such a situation again Miss Finster,” she said. “Do not trust young hormonal boys with metal objects.”
“Rightio,” I attempted a salute, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.
McGonagall merely sniffed, gave me a cynical glance and turned to walk away again.
Leaving me with the heartbroken Wood.
“Are you alright?” I asked. Wood hadn’t moved for several minutes.
“It’s ok….” Wood sighed deeply and continued looking at the floor. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
“But it takes two people to argue, so I kind of am the reason you ended up in this mess,” I felt so bad seeing his this way. It was like all the light had gone out of his life, life the stuffing had gone from his pillow, like his-
You get the picture.
“If we tell her Fred and George-“ I began.
“There’s nothing you can do….just leave it,” he sighed again, fisted his hands in his pockets and began to walk away.
Seeing him so despondent would normally have made me feel great, but he looked like his heart had broken and someone had kicked it around like a football. I wanted him to be sorry for all he’d put me through this last week but….I’d had a part in all this too. I was the reason he had to show me around the year, thus arguing with me and causing this whole situation. It took two to tango….and I’d done the wrong dance and trod on his toes. He didn’t deserve this….
Professor McGonagall halted at the top of the stairs, turning slowly round to glare at Wood and me again.
Oh…wait…did that come out of my mouth?
“Yes Miss Finster?”
I guess it did…stupid mouth.
Not quite certain what was propelling me at that moment or why I had called back the Professor, I stood dumbly for a few seconds.
“Miss Finster is what you have to say important or can I continue my journey to the Quidditch pitch?” McGonagall said sharply.
I could feel this strange thing called compassion engulf my body, followed by that equally hideous thing called a conscience and finally a sense of resignation over what my mouth was going to do and my brain couldn’t control.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it.
“It wasn’t Oliver’s fault,” I screwed my eyes up in disgust at what I was about to do…
Don’t do it, don’t do it, I urged myself silently, really wishing it hadn’t come down to this.
“Then whose fault was it?” McGonagall stared at me over the tops of her glasses.
Oh don’t ask me that question….it would involve the reply one side of my brain really didn’t want me to give…
“It was…” deep breaths, I told myself, you can do this – just bite the bullet. “It was my fault.”
I cannot believe I just said that.
No, I really really really really cannot believe I just did that.
Neither it seemed, could Wood or McGonagall. The former was doing an Oscar worthy impression of a stunned fish, opening and closing his mouth in shock at what I’d just done. It was after all surprisingly noble of me (why use modesty when we all know it isn’t my style) and he had every right to be flabbergasted at this uncharacteristic show of kindness and good deeds. Although looking as though I’d just killed his mother and then danced around naked was perhaps not reaction I’d expected; shock yes, stunned heart attack look was not.
McGonagall was equally stunned….but not fooled.
“It was your fault?” She repeated sceptically, trying to stare me down.
“Um…yeah…” I gulped, wishing she’d stop narrowing her gaze at me.
“Would you care to explain then how you came to be in a predicament where you were handcuffed to Mr Wood?” She pursed her lips. “And please don’t be too crude.”
Explanation? Wasn’t the sacrificing of myself for Wood good enough? Couldn’t we just skim past an explanation and punishment and just accept it was my fault, even if it wasn’t?
“Miss Finster I’m waiting,” McGonagall said.
“I was…” I took a deep breath and cast around for the most likely excuse anyone could have when using handcuffs that didn’t involve kinky scenarios liable to put me in more trouble. “I was trying out a muggle magic trick I’d seen. My friend Indy is a muggle and she bought me a muggle magic kit for my last birthday. She was a bit annoyed when she found out I hadn’t used it and I, not wanting to hurt her feelings, said I had. She then challenged me to perform a spell and after rooting around in the kit I found these handcuffs. Needing a volunteer, Wood here, upstanding citizen that he is,’ oh that really hurt to say, ‘volunteered, not wanting to leave a damsel in distress. Only problem was, never having performed the trick before I didn’t know how to get out of the handcuffs. This led to Wood and I being trapped together and unable to get out the handcuffs. Not wanting to spark any more humiliation, we trundled off to the Quidditch pitch to avoid everyone and deal with the mess, only to accidentally get locked in the locker room. So you see it’s all very logical really.”
Yeah…the latter part not so much, I thought finishing in one long breath, panting heavily as I tried to gulp in oxygen after such a long speech.
McGonagall merely blinked at me.
“You are expecting me to believe that you, the girl who fought off thirty Dementors on her own, was incapable of performing a simple muggle trick, or failing that a vanishing spell?” She said incredulously.
“Er…” well, when she put it like that. “Yes?”
“I still don’t thoroughly believe your excuse Miss Finster,” she glared at me. “I do not believe for a second you would be stupid enough not to come to find a teacher the moment this ‘predicament’ happened.”
Oh shucks….there went my rescue plan.
“However….” She raised an eyebrow. “Such an elaborate and detailed lie to save a friend must be awarded some credit.”
Yes, thank goodness!
“Mr Wood, in light of Miss Finster’s recent confession I feel it necessary to reinstate you as captain of Gryffindor Quidditch team.”
Wood let out a long expulsion of breath next to me and I could feel him visibly jumping up and down in excitement.
“You won’t regret this Professor,” the word’s rushed from Wood’s mouth and rushed forward with his arms open. “I promise I will win us the cup this year even if it means extra practices, more hexing of Slytherins-“
“Yes, yes,” McGonagall waved off his gratitude and sidestepped the hug he was about to give her. “I need someone to let us win the cup this year and you seem to be the best hope, however much you seem to be lax in your behaviour. For the time being you are to be placed under monitoring. If I do not see a marked improvement in your behaviour both in school and out, then I will have no second thoughts about banning you from Quidditch.”
“Thanks you so much Professor,” Wood looked ready to bow down to her and worship her. I really hoped he wouldn’t, the sissy.
“And Miss Finster,” she moved from Wood to acknowledge me once again. Damn – I’d hoped she’d forgotten about me.
She turned to me with that look on her face.
I hated it went she got that look on her face – it meant bad news.
“Miss Finster…” she said lightly, with a gleam in her eye. “You have detention.”
Noble deeds were all very well and good, I thought as I kicked a stone, except when they turned round to bite you in the behind.
McGonagall had delivered the news of my detention with a sardonic smile, almost savouring the deliverance of the fact I would be forced to spend the entire afternoon cleaning bedpans under the shrewd gaze of Madam Pomfrey. Now Pomfrey was a good old bean when it suited her, but with the Quidditch match in full flow you could bet she’d be ranting on about blitches and snudgers or whatever those things were. If I was lucky she’d get so distracted by her ranting I’d be able to sneak off to the library for a while and hide out but the woman was so shrewd I was never usually that lucky.
Sighing deeply at my misfortune, I scowled at the sight of the Quidditch pitch towering in the distance. Damn fool game was the reason I was in this predicament in the first place, I thought bitterly as I shoved my hands in my pockets against the cold wind. From here on out anyone who would tell me the game was all that was holy and should be worshipped would get a wand in the eye.
Around us students swarmed towards the Quidditch stands, all in high anticipation for the match that was about to commence….
And still we stood awkwardly together, looking anywhere but at each other as the silence grew longer and longer and my thoughts got madder and madder.
“Don’t you have a Quidditch match to go to?” I asked finally breaking and gesturing towards the students elbowing past us. We were stuck right in the middle of the crowd coming down the hill, so being bashed around wasn’t that unrealistic and the shouts of ‘move,’ became common.
“Yeah,” he looked distracted. “I guess I do.”
“Shouldn’t you get going then,” I gestured in the direction of the pitch. “You are captain after all and I didn’t just get myself detention for you to lose that position again.”
I turned on my heel, ready to make my long and arduous journey back to the castle and my detention with Madam Pomfrey when a voice stopped me.
I turned round slowly to see Wood looking a little embarrassed by his outburst and the attraction it was warranting from the students around us. Leaning my head to the side, I thought perhaps it was best not to say anything, instead waiting to see what he had to say.
“Um…perhaps you could….I dunno…” Wood looked uncomfortable, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced down at his shoes. “Perhaps you could come and watch the match? Show your house pride and all.”
“I don’t think so,” I wrapped my arms around myself to protect myself from the cold wind. “I’m not really a cheering for my house kind of girl.”
“It’s not really that hard,” he looked faintly annoyed at my response. “All you have to do is clap at the right moments.”
“But considering I don’t understand Quidditch and I absolutely hate it, I might be a little out of place,” I smiled faintly at him. “Anyway, I have that detention to go to. An hour cleaning bedpans with Madam Pomfrey should be fun,” I mimed enthusiasm with a weak punch to the air.
Wood attempted a weak laugh and shook his head whilst looking at the ground. Due to this position it was hard to hear his next words; they were so quiet I didn’t believe he’d said them at first.
Woah, woah….let’s pause for a second here.
Did he just thank me? Did this overgrown baboon actually know the word ‘thanks’ and more importantly what was I meant to say in return. I couldn’t stand here looking like a gaping fish any longer than necessary – a reply was needed of the verbal variety.
“It’s ok,” I decided trying to look unfazed by it all. I was debating whether a friendly punch on the arm was needed when a loud horn sounded in the distance, signifying the match would start soon.
“Well, see you around then,” Wood nodded as he began backing down the hill. “It was interesting…” With a final wave he turned and began jogging to the pitch.
With my heart a little lighter, I trudged back up the hill to detention as the screams of excitement from the crowd echoed all around me.
Perhaps detention wouldn’t be so bad this time…
A/N: Wella overload or what - the last part was the first convo I imagined them haing! I know the chapter is terrible/rubbish and I can’t write anymore so I apologise.
Sorry it’s taken so long to come out by the way, my laptop decided to contract a virus and I couldn’t access a computer for weeks. The chapter got deleted on my laptop so I'e completely rewritten this in two days. I apologise if it's terrible and for making you wait so long.
Pretty please review, I love to read your opinions on my story.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
The Potions ...
by Brittney ...
Oh to Dream