Chapter 2 : Stupid Winking Faces
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 29|
Background: Font color:
After cleaning and then practicing for another hour, I was tired and wanted nothing more than to get to bed. But as soon as I entered the common room, holding my changing bag in one hand and my dancing shoes in the other, I noticed two people who hadn’t gone to bed: Andrew McAllister and Fred Weasley.
“Where ya been, Lyden?” Andrew so nicely interrogates. He’s sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace looking impatient. He looks like a character from a mob film, the way the darkness of the room hits his face and the cackling of the fire is giving him a theme song. All he needs now is a cat to stroke.
This makes him look really creepy, and I am instantly freaked out.
“What’s it to you, McAllister?”
“I just wanted to know what took you two hours to do.”
He can’t honestly be asking me that. He knows I clean after his butt after every practice. He’s never questioned me before, what gives? Why is Andrew suddenly interested in my time schedule? This is so random.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused. “I was practicing… like always.”
“Why aren’t you sweaty and gross?” he asks me, probably referring to my dancing.
“Um, thanks?” I start.
Yeah, thanks for calling me NOT sweaty and gross.
Meanwhile, Fred’s still silent, but he’s pretending to read his book so I know he has something to do with this. He seems almost… nervous. They’re the only people left in the common room; everyone else has gone to bed. Are Fred, Andrew, and I seriously the only ones in the common room? This is not a good mix. I feel like I’m being ambushed. I’m tired, I’m sore, and I want to go to bed.
“I took a shower, Andrew. You do know I clean after the team, right? And that I practice when I’m done? And how changing rooms have showers?” I speak slowly, making sure he makes the connection. He can be thick sometimes.
I probably shouldn’t be so snappy, I mean Andrew’s never asked before, so I can understand if he’s curious about seeing me like this, but something about the current situation I'm in makes me feel like they were expecting me back. Either that, or they were talking about me.
Andrew gets up and takes a seat next to Fred on the couch, dropping his mafia act.
“It takes you two hours to do that?”
“The usual, yes. Two hours for the cleaning and the dancing.” I cross my arms and observe them both. Andrew just nudged Fred in the arm and Fred just gave him this quick glare in response…
Are they in on something?
“Why were you two up waiting for me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Lyden,” Fred smirks. What a butthole.
It isn’t a mean kind of smirk, per se, but a kind of ‘inside joke’ smirk. Which is still butthole-name-calling worthy. I narrow my eyes in his direction as Andrew continues where Fred’s left off.
“We were just… talking about something, Fred and I. You know, a manly talk between lads,” Andrew tells me with amusement. He smiles and puts his arm around Fred’s shoulders. Fred seems annoyed at this and closes his book. “And I just thought I’d ask.”
“And you both just wanted to know how long it took for me to finish my job?”
It’s silent for a while and Andrew grins again. “No, Fred did.”
Fred takes his book and hits Andrew in the back of the head with it.
“Ow!” He rubs his neck, while Fred feels no remorse.
“Why did you want to know –” I begin.
“No reason,” Fred says quickly. I raise my eyebrow. He’s a character, that Weasley is…
“Well, why didn’t you guys just ask me normally? Was there a reason why you made yourself look like The Godfather when I walked in?”
I look at Andrew for an answer and all he gives me is a shrug. “Nah. I thought I’d get in character to intimidate you; create some sorta drama. I just wanted to creep out.”
“You succeeded,” I mumble, turning around in the direction of the dormitories. They can stay up as long as they want, I don’t care. They just better keep the racket down. Why were they even up this late? It’s around eleven o’clock; what could they possibly have been talking about for so long?
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.”
I walk a couple steps, but then I stop before I reach the staircase; like lightning’s struck the back of my head. Just for laughs, I pull Fred’s boxer shorts out of my bag and flick them at his head.
“Best not be leaving your underwear around like that anymore. You never know who’ll find them just lying around in the changing rooms…”
Andrew’s mouth drops, and Fred’s face becomes flat as a brick, eyebrows raised.
“Oh! Burnt like toast on Sunday morning!” Andrew remarks. I try not to smirk all the way upstairs while hearing Fred’s attempts to tell Andrew to shut his gob.
The next morning, Sofia and I make our way down to breakfast.
I open the doors to the Great Hall and Sofia checks her make-up in a compact mirror; making sure she looks good for Andrew, no doubt.
I’m not rolling my eyes, really…
Greeting the Quidditch team, we both take a seat near Alicia and Andrew. The only person who isn’t here would be Brianna Riggins; she has Head Girl duties almost every morning. And when she’s not doing that, she’s studying profusely in the library. I push Sofia into our alternate keeper, the lovely McAllister, and put my Charms book on the table… only to find another set of Charms books next to us. This can only mean one thing: we’re sitting across from the Weasley Twins.
“Oh, sorry,” Sofia says quickly, blushing furiously at Andrew, after she almost lands in his lap. I’d snicker at her expense, but I know she’ll get me back for it later so there’s really no point.
“I don’t mind, Thorne,” Andrew winks. She looks away and pretends to adjust her uniform.
I turn and say hello to the twins and only George is able to look at me. I pour myself a drink.
“So, Liv,” George greets with a smile, “I hear Fred’s quite the sexy beater…” I choke on my lemonade.
“I hate you,” I hear Sofia whisper to me in my right ear, but I ignore her. My focus is on the redheaded boy in front of me and his git of a brother, who hasn’t said good morning to me yet.
I cough a bit and look at George in the face; he’s wearing a goofy smirk that fits him perfectly. Those Weasley kids… they all have the same characteristics, don’t they? It’s heart warming.
"Shove off," Fred says annoyingly, responding to his brother’s remark. He pushes George’s shoulder aside and takes the rest of his bacon.
“Hey!” George doesn’t grab it in time. Fred takes the four pieces and puts them in his mouth at a lightening speed.
“What’s all the commotion about?” Oliver calls from down the table.
Andrew, who had been listening to our conversation, says, “Lyden took Fred’s Quidditch knickers!” The entire team turns to look at me. Seriously, I’m surprised a haystack from a Western film hasn’t rolled into the Great Hall yet.
My mouth drops. “I did not!”
That little bugger!
I reach over Sofia and hit Andrew on the back of the head. He sticks his tongue out while Sofia just giggles.
“Liv, if you wanted the boy’s knickers, all you had to do was ask…” Angelina carries on playfully. Oh, she better not start. She loves to get on people’s nerves. Mostly because she knows she’ll always have the last word if she’s truly dead set on smart mouthing you.
I grit my teeth.
“There is nothing going on,” I say slowly. The whole lot of them start to open their mouths, ready to add on and make my life more miserable, but then Lee Jordan barges into the Great Hall.
Ah, Lee. My favorite person ever. He’s our Quidditch announcer and is, like me, an unofficial part of the team. His mother is from Kenya and his father is Italian and a mix of a whole bunch of stuff, so he has the flawless caramelized skin thing going on. Lee fancies almost every girl in Gryffindor. I mean, I’m not saying he’s desperate… he just loves all women. He can be charming, but most of the time he’s too preschool-boy immature to really have a steady girlfriend. Once during Hogsmeade, Katie Bell and I were walking down with Lee to a pub and the whole time we were there Lee pointed out how many breasts walked by him. And then he rated them from one to ten.
Lee is a… plausible person.
“Guys! You won’t believe this,” Lee announces.
Rolling her eyes, Angelina turns to Lee and asks him lazily, “What now? Another one of your stupid Quidditch activity ideas rejected by McGonagall?” She sighs in annoyance.
Typical Angelina Johnson. Somebody needs to give her some happy pills.
Lee fake smiles. “Hah – NO. For your information, Johnson, it is another one of my wonderfully brilliant Quidditch activity ideas. And this time, McGonagall approved.”
Oliver looks perplexed. “You’re kidding.”
“You must be joking,” George blurts.
“That’s impossible,” Andrew chokes out incoherently between bites.
“Andrew, chew first. Swallow. And then talk,” I tell him, disgusted.
Lee Jordan bends down and takes the closest seat next to him. Unfortunately, it’s between Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. Katie looks helpless as Lee displays his paper across the table for the whole team to see.
Lee has been trying to find some sort of activity for everybody in Gryffindor to participate in for a while now. He’s been ‘inventing master plans’ surrounding the team all this year, trying to start some sort of Gryffindor House Unity. He had always wanted to form some sort of party where the House could spend time with their fellow Quidditch team, to bring them all closer to the sport. Lee is one of those people who’s very intent on celebrating as one with students, and only those students, that belonged with him. In other words: he’s obsessed with arranging and planning parties for Gryffindor where only our House mates can participate. Lee’s wanted to do this for years, ever since he had become the official announcer for Hogwarts. He always wanted to recreate, or improve things around Gryffindor. Announcing during matches is his hobby, and everything involving Quidditch seems to fall right well into his life… but he’s always been itching to plan a Gryffie-Only activity. But his activities or parties were always rejected by McGonagall. They were either too crazy, or too idiotic.
“Feast your eyes on this, lab rats.” Lee smoothes down the flyer on the table.
Katie squints and reads aloud, “For all House members: This Friday, the Quidditch team welcomes you all to celebrate a new tradition with us…Scavenger hunting?! Lee, what the crap?”
“Woah, what does ‘the Quidditch team welcomes you’ mean?” Oliver counters, using air quotes. I’ve grown to learn that the Captain never likes it when somebody talks about his team like they’re puppets.
“Yeah, we didn’t agree to anything. This was your idea!” Angelina snaps.
Lee raises his hands and says, “Now, now. I know that you guys didn’t agree to it but it was the only way McGonagall would even consider my plan! I had to say you guys agreed with me-”
“A scavenger hunt, Lee. Bloody, do we look like we’re five?”
“Oliver, just hear me out! Okay? Hear me out, all of you… Katie, keep reading.”
Katie takes a breath and reads out loud again. “To promote a night full of House unity and Quidditch fun, a scavenger hunt will be held at the Quidditch pitch around seven o’clock after dinner on Friday night. All Gryffindor students are allowed to attend. Appending on your arrival, the night will start by people pairing up in groups and the first team to win gets first pick seats on the last Quidditch match at the end of the year.”
“They better not mess with my equipment!” exclaims Oliver, but everyone ignores him.
“Ooh,” Andrew coos, impressed. “That’s a good deal there, mate.”
“Yeah. First pick? Good seats are nearly impossible to find,” I agree.
“Except one thing, how are you so sure that Gryffindor will make it to the end of the Quidditch season this year? I mean, no offense,” Sofia says quickly, “but isn’t it sort of narcissistic to assume that you’ll win?”
“Oh, we’ll win,” Oliver says strongly. I’m not saying that Gryffindor is the best team, but I can’t say I don’t agree with him. Gryffindor usually does win at the end of the year. Oliver is no novice when it comes to Quidditch; he’s chosen only the best of the best to be a part of his team, and anyone can see that. Hell, we have no one under Sixth Year playing on the team, for crying out loud! The Captain’s made sure that only the skillful and most committed players of Gryffindor are ready for his training. I wouldn’t usually call his plays and practices training- but in a Nazi/military sense…they definitely are. I’d bet that if anyone younger joined the team they’d last probably a week before collapsing at the Captain’s feet, groveling and begging for mercy.
“What he means to say, is that even if we don’t make it, I’m sure that Lee will find a way to get them seats,” Katie reasons.
Oliver purses his lips in her direction. “But that’s just a precaution,” Katie finishes hesitantly, while trying not to make eye contact with her Captain. The girl’s got it bad.
It must be his Scottish accent, because at the moment…there’s nothing cute about Oliver in Quidditch mode. Or maybe Katie likes her men husky and angry?
“Right, well. This is all dandy, but George and I have Charms in a little bit,” Fred says, getting up from the table. “So we’ll see you all later.”
George looks confused. “Fred, we’ve got an hour-”
“We’ll see them later,” he emphasizes.
As George rises from his seat, clearly annoyed, Fred drinks the rest of the contents in his cup before telling us all goodbye. And he still doesn’t look at me. Alright, I’m not that paranoid and I don’t have OCD, I don’t think, but this is clearly bothering me. I mean, Fred Weasley isn’t a morning person, but he isn’t a zombie either. He always loved to tease me over breakfast before Charms.
Why is it, that now, he all of a sudden can’t look at me?
Saying his name out loud surprises even me, let alone Fred’s awkward reaction. He immediately stiffens, but not in that scared kind of way. He seems suspicious and a bit caught off guard with my forwardness.
Weird. You can’t catch Fred Weasley off guard for anything…
He looks down at the table, and is only able to see me in his peripheral vision.
I wait a couple seconds. During this time he should try and converse with me, or at least mumble something – but he says nothing. George walks off while I just sit there and huff, jamming my fork into my waffle.
“I guess I’ll see you in Charms,” I say awkwardly. Thanks for leaving me hanging, Fred. Much appreciated.
“Alright,” he says to me simply, before taking off with George.
I furrow my eyebrows in annoyance. I turn to ask Sofia what is up Fred’s arse, to find half the table staring at me.
They all look away. Oliver coughs and keeps eating, Katie bites her nails, and Matthew goes back to reading his book. Even Lee; he’s pretending to whistle.
Andrew smirks in my direction, and then turns to smile at Sofia, making me stop from opening my mouth and barking at him. I’ve never been this snappy at breakfast before. Maybe I should calm down. Who cares? Who cares if Fred kind of blew me off just now? Psh, it’s not my problem.
Guess who doesn’t care?
“Liv, I was thinking of setting the scavenger thing up tomorrow night. If you have any free time, do you think maybe you could come down and help me out?” Lee asks me.
I instantly put a smile on my face. “I’ll have to make sure the changing rooms are clean before I come down, but sure, I’ll see if I can help out.”
“Good,” he says happily.
Lee may be a hormonal teenager, but he’s my BFF.
Andrew finishes up his food and begins pestering Lee. “Wait, how are the groups going to work for the hunt? Are you going to pair the Quidditch players up with the other students? Can I be paired with-?”
Lee rolls his eyes and rests his elbows on the table.
“McAllister, McAllister, McAllister. What do I look like to you?”
“Nevermind,” he cuts off with his hand, dismissing any stupid answer from leaving Andrew’s lips. “I’m not going to give you all VIP access to choose who you’re paired up with. That would be un-constitutional.”
“Lee. We don’t live in the United States, we don’t have a constitution,” Alicia says slowly.
“Oh. Okay, well it would be un-Gryffindor-like. I’m not rigging the groups, so forget it, McAllister. It’ll all be pulled out of a hat.”
Andrew grunts in response.
“What if I get paired up with…with… I don’t know, some weird kid from Gryffindor with social anxiety?” Sofia’s voice starts to squeak. My friend here has a problem with people that keep to themselves. She has to be around people that are like her: social, flirty, and positive. She can’t stand silence unless she’s studying. Now that I think about it… I should be worried about being partnered with some freak of nature, too. Scavenger hunting with someone you can’t be comfortable with will definitely put a strain on their Friday night.
“No worries, Thorne. I’ll make sure you get partnered with someone good, okay?”
“Lee, I swear –”
“It’ll be fine.”
“It better be fine –”
“Relax, Blondie,” Lee taunts.
Sofia bites the inside of her cheek. “I’m just saying. You better watch who I get partnered with, because if I end up with William Beddington for the remainder of my night I will personally go crazy ninja Gryffie on you.”
“I love it when you get fussy.” Lee winks at her. She rolls her eyes. Like I said, Lee has a thing for every female.
William Beddington is the social reject of Gryffindor. No one really understands why he’s in our House, but I’m guessing it’s because he has more going for him on the ‘loyal’ side than he does under the ‘brave’ side. William seems to have a good amount of friends; he’s just not very out in the open. He’s an ace student with no marks below O’s and trust me, he’s going places. He might not be living life on the edge every night and going to parties when we win Quidditch matches, but as soon as he leaves this place he’s going to be a millionaire. I can feel it.
His marks even impress the professors. Honestly, you’d think he’d belong in Ravenclaw, but no, he wears the gold and red uniform just like the rest of us. Not that I have a problem with him, it’s just that he only talks when he’s called on. It would be less awkward for everyone around him if he actually did something spontaneous, or if he would start a conversation for a change. William gives our House something to be proud of, though, when it comes to lesson debates. Not to mention he gives us a good title with his scores on essays and such. William Beddington and Maurice Kinsley, another student from Ravenclaw, happen to be Hogwarts’ star pupils. They also happen to be rivals. Go figure. Even the hermits have somebody to pester them.
I pour myself a glass of orange juice, and all the while I’m trying to ignore Sofia and Matt’s flirting. Ugh. It’s just gross.
“Lovely Lyden. How are you this fine morning?” I hear, followed by a person taking a seat beside me.
Er, great. “Roger,” I greet in monotone to the boy who has just plopped next to me. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Roger Davies, Captain of the Ravenclaw team, is in his Fifth Year. He’s been obsessed with me for as long as I can remember. He’s a sweet boy, he really is – but I am way too old for him. In every sense. Not that he’d care, but still. He’s as immature as ever. And he I’m pretty sure his life goal is to torment Oliver Wood to no end. They feud like cousins, they do. Except it’s always Roger that starts things, and Oliver just freaks out. One time Oliver caught Roger trying to chat me up, and he went ballistic. No dating members of the team, he yelled. Then he realized it was Davies, and saw that his Quidditch uniform had the Ravenclaw symbol. Oliver just about had a heart attack.
No fraternizing with the enemy, Lyden!
He then proceeded to scold me about dating members of the other rivaling teams in school. Roger loved every minute of it, only because he enjoyed getting Oliver all pissed off... And because Oliver was calling me his girlfriend. I, on the other hand, wanted to kick Oliver Wood in the arse for yelling to the Great Hall that I was dating Roger Davies when I was doing no such thing. What was worse, though, was trying to convince every student in school that I was indeed NOT dating the Captain of the Ravenclaw team.
Let’s just say that Roger wasn’t making it easy. He had way too much fun with that idea, because he didn’t deny we were an item when people asked him. I think that at one point he tried to put his arm around me (mind you, this was last year when he was fourteen and I was nearly sixteen – he didn’t even hit puberty yet, for crying out loud!) and I kneed him in the crotch. I ran off soon after that, told him if he didn’t stay away from me I’d tap dance on his face. Or make him eat my ballet slippers. He just assured me that he’d never give up. So after a while… I just let it be. Roger fancies me, so be it. At least his flirting, and my non-flirting responses back, satisfy him enough to not bug me like he did last year. I say, let the boy have some fun.
“Glad to hear you’re okay. You’re hair looks absolutely brilliant in this light, if I do say so myself,” he says, and starts to play with my brown hair.
I would usually always try to stay clear from Roger Davies, but the boy never quit. And even though he can sometimes be unbearable and a bit too hormonal for my tastes, he’s a good kid. The Ravenclaw Captain is harmless, really. Besides, I can’t say I don’t enjoy the bickering between Oliver and him once and a while. It secretly spices up my life.
Repeat that to any soul, and I will severely hurt you!
“Davies,” I patronize. “Don’t do that. If Oliver sees you he’ll hang you by your toe nails.”
He laughs lightly. “You’re always so uptight, love. Relax.”
I quirk my eyebrow. “I’m not that uptight.”
“Oh, please. You memorized your class schedule as soon as McGonagall handed it to you at the beginning of term.”
“Hey, it’s an important part of the curriculum! What if you end up losing your paper and you don’t know where you’re going?”
“But you never lose your papers, darling. It’s a waste just memorizing your class schedule for certain days. And besides, it isn’t like the school doesn’t record our courses.”
“Hey, whose – oh. Ew. It’s you,” Sofia scoffs.
Roger narrows his eyes in her direction. Sofia called Roger a crazy stalker boy from the start, and he instantly insulted her…well long story short, they just aren’t that fond of each other. They got off on the wrong foot since the beginning, and I’m pretty sure they don’t mind.
“Yeah, Thorne. It’s me, so watch should yourself.”
“Excuse me?” Sofia looks completely entertained by Roger’s try at an intimidating demand. She leans over me and looks him right in the eyes, giving him her fierce stare. Sofia Thorne has the most penetrating hazel eyes anyone’s ever seen. I’d say they are her best asset. She uses them when she wants to intimidate the young ones (i.e. Roger Davies and his friends).
“I said – I – just watch yourself, Thorne,” he almost squeaks. “You throw off my swagger.”
Sofia and I being to chuckle. Swagger?
He instantly becomes tense, and moves closer to me. “You’re just jealous because Liv is growing fond of me.”
“Really?” I state to him, my eyebrows moving into my hairline. “Do enlighten me about that.”
Sofia gives him a bitter smile. “The day Liv falls for you is the day McGonagall snogs Flitwick.”
“Ah, you see – that’s what you think,” he wags his finger at us. I catch it and give him a skeptical look.
He flashes us a brilliant white smile. “See? She’s already holding my hand.” Roger swiftly takes his finger from my grasp and intertwines them with all five of mine.
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” she starts. “I have a better chance with Liv than you do. Let’s leave it at that.” She dismisses herself with one of her hair tosses and winks.
I try not to gape. Sofia, have you no shame?
Except, I kind of love her for saying that.
Sure, I’m a bit too clean, too put together, and too proper to say something like that…but, damn! Sofia knows how to get the job done. I don’t know what I should do; should I smirk or laugh?
Roger’s face falls, and he puts his arm around me protectively. “You wouldn’t.” Oh, goodness. All hell will break loose if his poor Liv Lyden is taken from him. Not the sarcasm in my voice.
Sofia gives him a seductive flutter of the eyelashes. “Who cares if I would or wouldn’t. All that matters is that I can.”
Roger swallows a lump in his throat. “Ah,” he croaks. Sofia and I give each other the same looks we see on our own two faces. What a little boy. He’s probably imagining us in his mind. Who knows what this boy fantasizes about? He’s fifteen, and we all know how vivid the male species’ imagination is at this age.
The Ravenclaw Captain blinks out of his momentary trance and tries to give Sofia an intimidating sneer, pretending he didn’t just fantasize about us. “I still hate you.”
“I still think I’m prettier than you.”
Great. She’s opened the wave pool.
Roger is full of himself. I might as well just come out and say it. In fact, I’d say he’s too pretty. His good looks make him a chick-magnet, and he doesn’t hide from mirrors. On the contrary, he always competes with others over their manliness and he always wins. But saying that you’re prettier than Roger, to Roger himself…well…that was something else entirely.
“You are not!” He defends.
Before he starts his rant about how his cheek bones are nicer than Sofia’s, I lean down to his ear and whisper to him. What? Yeah, alright. I know, I’m playing dirty. But, hey, these are the tricks of my trade! And they only work on Davies. What else am I supposed to do? We have to leave for Charms soon.
“Now, now,” I mumble to him, “Let’s play nice, shall we?” All of the hairs on his neck are standing on end. He’s the only boy I have the guts to do that to. If it was anybody else but Roger, I’d turn into a little girl in a matter of seconds.
Wow. No wonder I don’t have a boyfriend.
“Eh,” he coughs repeatedly. His entire back has gone rigid, and his facial features have gone stiff. That should shock him for at least a whole three minutes. Time to take this as an advantage and get out while we can. We’re lucky Oliver didn’t notice him.
I give Roger Davies a warm smile while Sofia says goodbye to McAllister. “See you around, Roger.” Oliver's ultrasonic rader catches our voices.
Sofia and I get up quickly.
“What – DAVIES! What are you doing at our table?! SCAT!” We hear Oliver Wood roar as we run out of the Great Hall. We make our way to Charms, laughing the entire way.
Opening the door to Charms was easy, but finding a seat for the both of us wasn’t. Almost everyone was there early. We still had ten minutes to spare, and the only two available seats were apart from each other.
“Oh,” Sofia frowns.
She grabs my elbow and moves me away from the door way. “Uh, no it’s not,” she mumbles. “I have the choice of either sitting next to Aimee Edith, who picks her nose when she thinks no one is looking, and Fred Weasley.”
My brain momentarily comes to a halt. I pull the reins and blink twice. “What?” I scan the room and she’s right. Oh, boy. This will not end well.
“So? Sit next to Fred.”
“Nice try,” she smirks.
“No, I am not sitting next to him! After his uncomfortable conversation with me this morning? No way, I’m mad at him. Humph.” I cross my arms.
“You’re better off than I am,” she tilts her head towards Aimee who is ‘scratching her nose’.
“Uh, no. Please don’t just assume that I will automatically sit next to Fred. No matter where I sit, I’m basically screwed.”
“Oh, you’re such a drama queen. Go sit next to Fred and ask him why he’s being all weird. It won’t be awkward,” she tells me.
“It wasn’t just this morning, Sof. Even last night…I don’t know, something’s up with him…” We both look at the redhead in question. He catches us staring and we immediately look the other way. I can almost feel his eyes burning through me. I can even sense him smirking.
“Alright class, take your seats,” Professor Flitwick announces. Before I have enough time to react, Sofia beats me to it and takes a seat next to Aimee Edith.
Fred doesn’t pay attention to me when I take the seat next to him. Okay, now he’s really getting on my nerves. I’ve been up for almost two hours on a regular school day and Fred Weasley has not 1) patronized me 2) thrown a flirty line at me 3) joked around with me during breakfast, and 4) even said hello to my face willingly. Call me crazy, but I have a few reasonable things to be annoyed at him about.
“Hey, Liv,” Fred says, after a minute of quietness. Professor Flitwick is getting out his parchment, ready to write notes on the board.
I look at him. “Hi.”
“So the scavenger hunt should be interesting.” Fred says this as if he didn’t just ignore me this morning. All the weirdness has just melted away. I hate that I can’t stay annoyed at him, but when he’s comfortable, I’m comfortable.
“Yeah. Especially with our unknown partners. I can only imagine what group Lee is going to throw us in.”
“Lee doesn’t throw. He catapults. With the luck we have, we’ll be scavenging for needles in haystacks until midnight in the dark-”
“-With people we probably won’t be able to stand,” I finish for him.
He laughs and it certifies to me that nothing happened this morning. Not even a glitch. “Exactly.”
Flitwick writes the notes on the board and soon, all you can hear are the scraping of quills against parchment. Fred passes a note to me.
Let’s play a game.
Fred, I’m taking notes.
Alright, fine. What kind of game?
I spy with my little eye, something shiny.
Okay, tell me that Fred isn’t asking me to play ‘I Spy’ in the middle of Charms. I have notes to write!
Nope. Something silver.
What? I can’t act interested?
Alright, I am interested.
Sue me. He’s a persuasive redhead.
No. Something that helps to keep it all in.
Uh… a purse?
Come on, Lyden. Something that holds it together.
Holds what together, Fred?
You know ;)
My mouth instantly falters but. But I’m too late in recovering before he notices, because I look over and he sniggers at my response. He is such a hormonal schoolboy. Stupid winking faces.
You better not be talking about a brassiere. I’ll punch you. This isn’t naughty strip poker. I’m not going far with this in the middle of a class.
So do you want to go farther with this after class then?
Just kidding! Jeez. What was your dirty mind thinking? I spy with my little eye something that zips.
I don’t know what it is. I give up.
Fred elbows me in the arm and I elbow him back. He sniggers and points to Professor Flitwick, who is answering someone’s question about hexes. I try to cover my mouth before I let out laughter but I can’t.
Fred’s finger points to Flitwick, which leads to something shiny and silvery that holds everything in…his fly.
Flitwick’s zipper is down.
My laughter could have broken glass. Our professor looks at me and gets flushed in the face; he doesn’t know what to do.
“Miss Lyden!” I can’t look up, because if I do I’ll see his zipper down completely with his shirt ends sticking out. Are we the only ones that have noticed? Fred tries to control his laughter next to me while I try to cover my mouth. Professor Flitwick sputters and gives me a frown, but I can’t stop laughing. Did I mention it’s only been ten minutes into Charms?
He just doesn’t know what to do to stop me from laughing uncontrollably. Except he’s been here long enough to know where to send students that do improper things in class.
"Calm down this instant! Er – Control yourself, Miss Lyden!"
This is NOT going to end well...
"That’s it, detention! And Mr. Weasley can surely join you," he blurts at us. “I will not have the both of you disrupting my class!”
Author's Note: How'd you like the chapter? Longer, as promised :) What do you think of Roger? I personally sorta kinda LOVE HIM... XD
Just so you know, I have chapter three in the works right now! So stay tuned for an update uber quick! *smiles* Review please! I'll give you cookies.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
Mystery vs. ...