Chapter 3 : The Ravenclaw in the Owlery
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BTW, the Ravenclaw that you meet in this Chapter is one of my favourite of my OC's. Just thought that I would let you know.
Beautiful Chapter Image by Mistletoe @ tda
The knowledge that I should have worn a coat lingered; I climbed the steps to the owlery.
It was six in the morning on a Saturday and somehow, the weather had managed to magically – no pun intended - drop to around three degrees. I pulled uggs on over my pyjama bottoms and grabbed one of Dixie’s many jackets that happened to be lying carelessly over a chair by the door. Dixie wouldn’t mind, yet the temperature happened to disagree by freezing my toes off. I was walking on blocks of ice.
I rubbed my arms, warming them with friction and entered the eerie tower. Walking over the Hedwig the second, I noticed a little scroll tied to her leg. Hedwig, despite being decrepit, always wanted to do the job intended. She is much better than Errol or Pigwideon; that one bites.
I raised my eyebrows in confusion as I fingered the letter, it read Charisma. The letter was for me. Stroking Hedwig’s head, I allowed her to perch on my arm. I held it out to one side, bent slightly and sat on the water fountain that was strangely placed inside the tower.
To Wolfy – NOT FOR ANY OF THE OTHER HOOLIGANS THAT USE THIS OWL!
Teddy’s handwriting was loud and clear – pretty much illegible.
You’ll never guess … Victoire and I are getting married. Blunt? A little. Mind-blowingly awesome? Completely! I proposed last night, around eleven, and she agreed. Apart from my poor and lowly grandmother, you are the only person who knows – you are the only person I wanted to know, besides the aforementioned poor and lowly Grandmother. I’m still stunned that she accepted, more so than the fact that she even agreed to go out with me in the first place. Let’s face it; I could be a better boyfriend.
I know that out of all the sinners and hooligans that the Weasley family creates as offspring, you will be happy for us, and not poke fun – that is not an invitation to do so. Uncle Harry has already organised the Wotter Christmas bash, so the usual heck of a group will be attending. That is when we think we shall tell everyone. Yes, we are waiting until Christmas; do you think you can keep your pretty little lips shut until then?
Don’t mention anything to anyone; we want it to be a big surprise. Well, Vic does, I would be perfectly happy with letting everyone realize on their own, or just sending around poor Hedwig with a post-it. Still, don’t tell the kiddies, Harry wouldn’t want them to know anything before their Dad does, you know how he gets. Poor old soul, he’s past his prime, you know?
Any who’s, three days until the full moon, fun eh – don’t forget?
Love the one and only Teddy. X
After realizing that it was signed Teddy and not Tokky, I squealed for joy. The empty owlery rang out with my squeals. Teddy and Victoire, after many years of dating, they finally agreed to marriage. It’s unbelievable. I think that I let out a little squeal of joy to myself in the empty owlery. Teddy and Victoire were getting married. And it was about bloody time.
They’ve been in love since they could both breathe. The thought of the two of them hiding this made me laugh; it would entail a very fed up Victoire and a somewhat childish Teddy. Laughing outloud, I realised that to the helpless person who entered the library, they would encounter the mad Gryffindor talking to herself, wearing nothing but her pyjamas.
And that’s exactly what happened.
A gentle voice spoke from the arch that was the entrance. “Are you ok?”
“Huh?” I said, cursing my stupidity in my head and turning to the presence in the doorway.
I stopped when I saw his face; anyone else would have. His dark blonde hair was ruffled; a beautiful contrast to his eyes. Pink lips, and flushed cheeks – both gained from climbing the steps to the tower, I could gather. His blue tinted robes were obvious against the wind; a Ravenclaw.
Recognising him instantly, I wanted to laugh once again. This is the man that Dixie has fancied teasingly for many a moon; the Ravenclaw Captain, known to our dorm as ‘James Bond’.
“You were giggling to yourself; I wondered if you were coherent.” He replied.
I fought the urge to shout, ‘No! Take me to the Hospital Wing – Oh, and carry me!’ Instead, I settled with. “Oh, I’m fine thank you.”
“And the giggling?”
I held up my parchment from Teddy, tattered from the indecent amount of over-folding. “I got a letter from my friend.”
“And obviously a good one at that.” He said, showing off a rather brilliant set of white teeth.
“It really depends on the angle that you look at it.” I said, tilting my head to the side and allowing my uncontrollable curls to fall from the bun and topple off of my head.
He smiled and walked in to the owlery. Hedwig flew from my arm and back over to her perch. She wasn’t a ‘people’ owl. He gazed towards her.
I followed suit and smiled at the snowy owl. “She’s beautiful isn’t she?”
“You have no idea.” His voice was almost inaudible, he simply stared at me.
“I have to … send a letter.” I stuttered, folding one of my arms over my stomach and shoving Teddy’s letter in to my pocket. I stood up and ended the slight awkwardness.
I took my pre-written letter from my pocket; the reason of my trip to the owlery. It was written to Victoire, she would know what to do with the ‘James Situation’; apparently I was the only one of the two feeling this way, and I need it to stop! I snatched one of the school pens from its stand and scribbled messily on the bottom. ‘You! + Teddy! Explain!’
Why I was so jealous of James’s secret date to the Halloween Ball, and why I felt the urgent need to track down who this person is – is all a mystery to me. Victoire will have the answer, she always does. She is the all knowing, yet she failed Divination. I still stick by my statement. Telling Professor T that your crystal ball says she is lying is not the way to go about things.
If I told Dixie, Ellie or Lily about my sudden change of opinion about James, they would tell me the simple answer. ‘You fancy him’. That is not what I wish to hear as it is blatantly untrue. James Sirius Potter is my best friend. He has been since joining this school six years ago. I can’t like him as anything more than that; it’s unreasonable, let alone impossible.
I am simply going through a phase – an impractical one that needs to end.
“Another time then chaser,” He said to me, walking from the owlery, grasping my attention away from my scribbles for Vic. As he reached the door he stopped, attached a small shed parchment to an owl and turned back to me. “I like the PJ’s by the way. I don’t know if I mentioned that?”
I pouted as he left and looked down at my attire - scarlet trousers, the only red suitable for Gryffindor’s, and an embarrassing black shirt that read ‘Sweet Dreams’. I zipped up Dixie’s jacket and smiled sheepishly. He laughed good-naturedly before waving and leaving me alone once more.
“Shitting hell!” Ellie cursed, sitting back in to the sink of the bathroom. I had told them of James’s decision not to go to the ball with me. I was being selfish and childish, yet somehow I felt tell them was right. We go together every dance, this was breaking tradition. “I bet he’s taking the Queen of Mean!”
“Elle, we don’t know that for sure.” I said, attempting to reconcile for the large and ‘in your face’ type blunder that I could have caused. “He never actually said who he was taking.”
Dixie looked astonished. “You didn’t ask?”
“No,” I said defensively. “I didn’t wanna sound clingy.”
Dixie attempted a sweet voice. “Oh, James. It’s okay that you’re not going to the ball with me, but who are you taking instead? Just out of curiosity of course! Cheerio. How on earth does that sound clingy?”
“I wouldn’t have said ‘cheerio’!”
She huffed and leant back against the brick work. “Well you would have said something similar; you’re bloody bat-crazy at times.”
Wiping the hurt look from my pouted features I set my mind away from the matter at hand; Quidditch try-outs are in less than an hour. Still, my mind wandered back to this morning’s run-in in the owlery. I knew who he was, but no names came to mind when I thought of him; I could ask Dixie, but I was sure she would batter me.
Lily had been with Ellie when I run in to them and Dixie was already in the girls bathroom when I told them I needed to vent. The area that Myrtle haunts is always abandoned.
Myrtle disliked us at first; we were alive. But after pointing out that Lily was Harry Potter’s daughter, she allowed us in to her bathroom without trouble. Dixie found it all somewhat funny; Myrtle is a tyrant.
For that main reason, people tend to avoid this said bathroom. If we want alone time, we know we shall get it here – sad, we realize.
“You would have sounded anything but clingy, Wolfy.” Lily defended purposely.
Only the Potters and Weasley’s know about the incident five years ago, and the odd exception outside the family. I was still yet to tell my roommates, any of them – or James’. I couldn’t bring myself to do it; the usual reaction was for them to run. I don’t want to lose them.
“Thanks Lillers,” I said, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. “But there’s nothing too it, I’m being selfish.”
Lily jumped off the edge of the sink and joined me on the floor. “How are you being selfish? If anyone is, it’s him, not telling you who he’s going with. I’ll hex him; I will honestly put him under an unforgivable curse and kill him.” We all wanted to laugh; Lily was known for her outbursts. “I’ll tell you what Charisma; I’ll be your date.”
Dixie smiled. “I love the way that you offered that so proudly Lily.”
“Well why wouldn’t I?” she asked. “I would be honoured to be my partner.”
I smiled at their sillyness and spoke to break the upcoming bicker. “Okay, us girls.” I looked away from the group. “If I can’t go with James, I will go with Lily; we’ll be the balls favourite couple.”
Lily smiled, “Defo.”
“I love the way that you’re working your way through the Potter family.” Dixie teased. “Next on the agenda will be Albus.”
I looked up and gave her a smug smile. “Then I’m working on Fred.”
Elle laughed at her expression, shock, horror and fury. It was no secret that Dixie has a thing for Freddy Weasley. She speaks of liking other people, yet she will never adore anyone the way she does Fred. At the age of eleven, he pushed her in to the black lake, and she shoved a sherbet lemon up his left nostril. It was love at first sight.
“Girlies!” Drew cried from outside the door. “Yoo-hoo!”
A deeper voice sighed from the other side. “Bugger it. We’re coming in!”
Dixie’s face lit up at Freddy’s entrance. Within moment’s the two of them had strolled in to the bathroom and made themselves comfortable.
“Fred,” Lily said slowly, he looked down to our level on the floor. “Did it, for a second, occur to you, that this is a girl’s bathroom?”
He ignored her curious demeanour and answered smugly. “Yes, and I thought that I would fit the profile,” Drew took a step back while I raised my eyebrow. “You called me a big fat girl all summer, so I thought that it wouldn’t matter too much.”
Fred was always the one who could shut her up. Drew stepped towards me and parked his bum next to mine. “Our James was lookin’ for you.”
“Why didn’t he come down here and tell me that himself?”
He shrugged and put his arm around me, hugging me in close. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “We’re not his personal messengers.”
Dixie snorted. “I bet you just wanted to come in to the girls’ bathroom.”
Elle, alike me sensed the upcoming argument and jumped from the sinks, landing delicately on her feet. “This is my cue to leave.” She stopped past me and pulled me up from the floor, from Drew’s embrace. “He’s being a twat Chic, one more thing and I will hex him myself.”
The boys were obviously curious. “Who’s this?” Fred questioned. “A secret boyfriend perhaps?”
“Well, we can’t have that? You are mine of course.” Drew added, pulling me back down on to the floor.
Fred laughed and grabbed Dixie’s arm. “Charisma and Andrew Wood, I actually think that name fits together rather well.”
“Shut it Fred.” Drew tried, tickling me a little. “That was supposed to be a secret.” If I actually thought of Drew as anything beside a brother, he would be a lovely boyfriend to have. “My question is, why is he being an arse to you?” I rolled my eyes. “Do you need to get us – the intelligent and attractive boys – to sort him out?”
This happened to be rather amusing. Fred, although good looking, shared a similar body mass to a bear. He apparently inherited it from his Grandfather, looking more like his mother than a Weasley. He packed the hardest punch I had ever witnessed; last year Caleb Sacks was sent to the hospital wing after telling Dixie he wanted to be her ‘baby daddy’. Fred and Dixie were two peas in a pod, a rather argumentative pod, I will grant that.
While Drew was the opposite of Fred in personality, similar in body mass; the two prided themselves on being the largest beaters in the school, and worked to get the title – through a mixture of eating the castle in to poverty and lifting anything they could find. Yet Drew was gentle; he wouldn’t fight even if the situation called for it, he joked about it, yes – but he would never hurt another human being.
“No thank you.” I answered, fast and polite. Surprisingly they actually looked somewhat disappointed. I laughed, causing Drew to smile. “You ladies man, you.”
“You love it!”
“Hey! Did you guys forget about tryouts?” Kyle asked, freely wondering in to the bathroom, without a care in the world, and shoving his hands in to his pockets. He stood next to Elle, I think she internally squealed – I saw it in her eyes.
A somewhat aggravated Lily Potter stood up, stomping her foot on the floor. “Does the term ‘girl’s bathroom’ mean anything to anyone any more?”
Being carried to the Quidditch pitch by the best beater in the school in a fireman’s lift, was defiantly the way to attract attention. Upon bursting through the doors to the pitch, we saw the crowd. James was stood in the centre, looking somewhat amused before quickly turning his attention to the group of students that were all trying out for one place; Keeper.
So far, our entire team happened to be made up of us sixth years, James wanted to vary it up a little. Luckily, no one else from our year happened to be trying out.
The group – that resembled a rabble – stared casually at my screams. Fred decided to create his own form in entertainment, to play pat-a-cake on my bum cheeks. Drew turned around, leading me to almost kick Kyle in the head. He ducked and knocked over a box of bats. Mixed with anger, James’s expression suddenly became something I didn’t recognise, probably stress, he had been under a lot of it lately.
“Are you lot done?” James asked professionally, throwing a bat towards Drew. “I was just about to begin the tryouts, would you, the Gryffindor team, like to help? Or would you like to play pat-a-cake on my bum next?” It was surprisingly amusing that he was serious. The youngens in the crows chuckled, but they were silenced by a glaring Captain.
“Do you really want me to answer that sexy?” Drew called, his usually jokey demeanour this time being his downfall. I naturally burst in to laughter with Fred. We received a glared from James that said behave. Fred stopped, but I was unable too; James didn’t seem to mind all that much.
We had tried out earlier in the week, regaining our positions on the team.
While quickly glancing around the stands, I noticed one thing that stopped me laughing immediately. Evie Lewis was sat three rows back while her woo tang clan sat idly by. She shot me a glare, one that was cold enough to make your heart stop. Like a flash, her smug expression went from mocking to livid. I followed the direction of her gaze and noticed four people giving her the finger.
Fred, Drew, Kyle and Ellie.
I looked Drew in the eye and bit my lip. “What are you, five?”
“Actually, I’m six.”
They put their fingers down and muttered something that was incoherent. “Thank you.” I said happily.
This was James’s day; no inter-house-civil-wars would begin. I strolled over to the wooden benches within the pitch and sat on the wooden bench at the side of the arena.
“Zack, bloody hell!” Lily shouted. “Can’t you just leave me alone for five bloodyminutes?” Past her shouting, there really was a lovely fourteen year old girl. I stood up from the bench, climbed up five behind me, grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the seat. “I swear, that bloody boy has a bloody death wish”
I ignored the desperation to tell her off for her cursing and instead decided to help. “He’s just trying to be nice. He likes you a lot.” I didn’t want to look at her expression. Cutting her off I spoke again, “What did he do anyway?”
We watched a poor second year take a blow to the stomach from the Quaffle. He regained the balance on his broom and prepared himself for the next shot.
“He cleaned all my Quidditch equipment.” She explained. I bit my tongue and failed to point out how some would see that as a good thing. She answered my unspoken question. “I don’t know how he got a hold of it; it was in my dorm room. Either one of my room mates thought it would be a funny joke, or he’s a pervert. He polished my snitch so much, it got to the point that all the magic has been rubbed off.”
I walked over and took a seat on the wooden bench at the side of the arena.
I appreciated how sourly she admitted it. “Maybe, a little too nice?”
“You’re too bloody kind, you know that Charisma?” Lily said, looking me in the eye. She didn’t laugh. “It’s not always a good thing. One day someone is going to take advantage of that fact.”
I got up from the bench after a period of silence. Lily really did know how to create them. James called us to the middle as a team, we had to help the younger ones with their form and stamina before the final selection is made. Elle was my favorite when it came to the sport. She lost all of her sweet demeanor and became blunt and brutally honest; probably tearing their hopes and dreams of ever being a Quidditch player. One third year girl was on the verge of tears, that was when Fred ran in and saved the day. He gave her a lollypop.
Garry Hammond; fourth year, total pretty boy, always asked me to help. He was just a little scared of the rest of the team, they were rather intimidating. Drew would make kissy noises every time he walked past the pour soul.
Leaving Gary in the overly-capable hands of Kyle, I walked over to a flustered looking James. “You still wanna be in charge Captain?” I asked.
Ignoring his glare I skipped over and linked my arm with his. “All the way,” he admitted. “I just wish that I had the privilege to slap a few of those little children.” He spoke menacingly.
He pulled me really close and slid his arm from mine, taking my hand instead. “You’re right, sorry; I don’t want to smack children.” He seized either side of my arms and pulled me to his face. He nuzzled my nose against his in an Eskimo kiss. ”Can you ever forgive me?” he tilted his head side to side and began to sing “Charisma, please forgive me. Charisma!”
Laughing, I nodded, and then mentally cursed myself for the second time that day. James Potter always knew how to make me happy, that’s the problem. That boy had a ‘Get out of Jail Free Pass’ with me. He could only perform well in my books, he could do nothing wrong. Anything he did say or do that I didn’t like; I would forgive him right away.
“Good!” he approved, slipping his hand in to the back pocket of my jeans and dragging me along. His hand was under my Quidditch Robes. I pushed him away and muttered about person space. “We need to shower and change.”
“Are you implying that I smell Mr. Potter?” I slid out of his grasp begrudgingly. “Cause I know that you do!”
I left him and ran forward, towards the changing rooms. When he actually grasped the concept of me poking fun, he chased after me. Much to Evie’s annoyance, we ran back through the pitch, disrupting many of the packing up jobs that the rest of the team were doing. Freddy wolf whistled, gathering much more attention that thought. As we reached the doors of the CR, he caught me, spun me around and then licked my forehead playfully.
An interrupting cough made us break apart. It was always the Ravenclaw’s that spoiled the fun. This particular one really cleared up well, or it’s possibly just my eyesight becoming more aware as the day goes on.
The Ravenclaw who liked my Pj’s spoke. “I’ll just, go.”
I answered sweetly, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “No, it’s okay. We just came to pack up.” I was trying so hard not to blush and giggle like an idiot. “Do the ‘Claws have the field next?”
He nodded. “Not for another twenty minutes or so.”
James pulled me back to his level, so that we stood side by side. “So what are you doing here now?”
I stared, confused, at his rudeness. “James, be nice!” I hissed in his ear before turning back to the Ravenclaw. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize.” James said smugly. “Allow me.”
“No!” I practically shouted, shoving my hand over his mouth. I had no idea what would come from it if I took it away. “Good luck trying out the rascals.”
Much to James’s annoyance, he took another step forward. “I like the uniform by the way,” he said. “But I prefer the pajamas.”
My hand slipped from James’s mouth, more out of the fact that I had just lost major bodily functions, aka, the ability to more or speak.
“What the bloody hell is he talking about?” James demanded. I ignored him, trying desperately not to fall over with embarrassment. “Wolfy, when in Merlin’s fucking name did he see you in-“
James’s panicked voice broke the spell. “Don’t swear.”
“Potter, it’s not nice to cuss.”
“Shut the f-“ James stopped in his tracks. “I would prefer it if you, didn’t talk to me.”
“Wait,” ‘claw said, “Why did he call you Wolfy?”
“Inside joke.” James snapped. The Ravenclaw could have been incredibly petty at this point, but he wasn’t.
Instead he said. “Well, I have to go and set up the arena, for the ‘Claws, but I’ll see you later.”
James blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, sorry.” He said, brushing the hair from his eyes. “I’ll see you later, girls.”
Now that was a comment that was deemed unforgivable by James.
AN: So what do you think? The next lot of chapters are all written and checked so it shouldn't take long to get them out. I hope you are all liking the story. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
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