Chapter 6 : Blast From The Past
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- Oscar Wilde
I love Care of Magical Creatures. OK, so the Bowtruckle attempted to attack me, and nobody else can doubt the fact that Grubby Plank should relax a tad, but it was an amazing lesson. I felt slightly bad, as I know that Hagrid tries his best, but still!
Also, I managed to get Seamus alone for some time to discuss the Lavender factor. Well, I was mainly trying to talk some sense into him. Alas, he seemed to be under the impression that I was only saying this because I wasn’t particularly fond of her.
“OK, I don’t like her, but that’s for a reason, you know.”
Seamus shook his head while we began to walk to Herbology. “Well, come on, why don’t you like her?”
“For one thing, she and Parvati insinuated that I was a slut a couple of days back.” Seamus looked a little unnerved by this. “Doesn’t sound like much of a pleasant character, does she?”
“OK, so she’s a bit…”
“Nasty, annoying, immature –”
“But she can be nice!” I thought that I was getting to him, because there was something that seemed insincere about his words. Apparently this new me is quite convincing. Yes, the new me. The new, improved, and certainly cooler me.
“Yes, I have no problem believing that she can be nice. However, the fact that she has chosen not to be shows something, doesn’t it?”
I huffed. “I think it does.”
I couldn’t help but pick up on Ernie Macmillan’s voice, as it was loud and booming. He was quite a way in front of us, declaring his loyalty to Harry and how he thinks that Harry and Dumbledore were right about You-Know-Who.
There was a moment of silence shared by all of us. Seamus looked thoroughly pissed off by the whole thing. In all honesty, I was rather exhilarated. It seemed that Harry’s scene in our lesson had caused quite a stir among to the students. Before you know it, they’ll all want the facts. Not that they don’t already.
In fact, one of the people was the keenest was Amy, though I wouldn’t say that it was in a very polite way. It appeared that her tactics to get the story out of him was to anger him. However, every time she began, she practically apologised in an even louder voice.
It’s odd how she could be so angry one moment, but so sweet the next.
After a hard days work, I found George Weasley waiting for me in the common room. I had to admit, I kind of missed having him around, even though it was only a few days. I mean, I had already spent more time than that away from him. Nevertheless, it seemed that George Weasley and the new me were rather made for each other.
Grinning, George put down something to the side and put his arm around my waist. He hesitated for a moment, but pulled me to the side. I had to admit, I was slightly confused.
“Something wrong?” I asked. Something really seemed to be bothering him.
“No, don’t worry,” he replied a little too quickly, “I’m fine.”
I nodded slowly, attempting to read his reaction. From what I could tell, he was definitely lying. However, he seemed to recover rather quickly and nothing more was said for a long amount of time.
“What’s that?” I noticed an envelope by his side.
“That?” He looked at it, shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s an owl from Oliver.”
My body froze. All of a sudden, I was no longer the new me, head-over-heels for George Weasley. I was the old me, the one who wanted Oliver Wood after he repeatedly saved me from Pucey. The one who always was in wonder, and confused about everything mankind did. But George was there, but that didn’t seem to matter at the time…
“Oh?” I felt my voice shake, but I didn’t think that he noticed. “What does it say?”
“Just updates on him. I think he misses his old Quidditch team, really,” he said with a laugh. “Bragging about how he just did an interview with Witch Weekly. It came out a couple of days ago. Though, I’m not going to read it – just to avoid giving him the satisfaction.”
“Witch Weekly?” I couldn’t believe that he was actually getting interviews. So much for the ‘who’s having the better life without who’ competition. When George looked at me inquisitively, I coolly added, “I think Bella subscribes to it.”
In fact, I know that she subscribes to it. It’s the most annoying thing on the planet, since the stupid owl sometimes decides that it wants it to land on my breakfast. Now, that might be because I accidently hit it when it first started coming, but I really don’t see how it could keep such a grudge.
For our entire conversation afterwards, something was nagging at me. It was the uncontrollable feeling that I had missed something. Perhaps I noticed something that could remind me of a homework I didn’t do, or a person I needed to see.
“George!” Was it too impolite to tell Amy to go away? Perhaps. “How are you?” She then did some obvious head movement.
Looking away, George stated matter-of-factly, “I’m fine.”
I looked to both of them, wondering about what I might have missed. Amy then smiled at me. “How about you, Anne?”
“I’m a little confused… about Transfiguration.”
“Oh, OK. Do you mind if I steal Anne for a second?”
George gave Amy permission and we walked away together. As soon as we had reached our dormitory, I snapped, “What was going on over there?”
“Come off it, you were acting all weird just then. And what was this?” I exaggerated the head gesture that she had done previously.
To this, she blushed and said, “Nothing.”
I shook my head. How dumb did they honestly think I was? I mean, surely they knew that I was very capable of working things out on my own, and certainly picking things up.
Suddenly, the nagging feeling came again. Come on, just put two and two together… but what are the two…perhaps…
Then it hit me. “Bella has a subscription to Witch Weekly!”
Rather than looking confused, like I was worried that she would, Amy suddenly looked alarmed and practically squeaked, “I think she does.”
Then fact number two hit me. “You know!” I cried as I watched Amy’s eyes dark around the room. “You know that there’s an interview with Oliver Wood, don’t you?”
“It was Magda’s idea to not tell you.”
“Of course it was her idea not to tell me. It seems that one of her most basic equations in life is me plus Oliver, plus lies, equals good. It’s funny how it never seems to work out. You remember last time; I clearly recall that you called her a cow for it!”
“But this is different! You deserved to know about the Yule Ball.”
“And I don’t deserve to know about this?”
Amy flushed, and began to look at the door expectantly, clearly wishing for some kind of backup. “Well… it’s not so much that you don’t deserve… but more that you didn’t need to - Oh, Anne, you were so happy with George! I knew that the article would just mess things up!”
“How so? His letter didn’t mess things up.”
“But you didn’t read it -”
“And what do you mean me and George were happy? We are happy!”
“Oh, like this article hasn’t made you push him aside a little?”
“No! I haven’t even read it and you’re expecting me to suddenly push George out of the picture?”
“Not for now.”
“What do you mean ‘for now’? I’m going to rush and read the article now, am I?”
“If you don’t want to, then why are you so angry that we didn’t tell you?”
“Please, Anne. If you didn’t want to read it, then you wouldn’t be so angry! If it wasn’t going to affect your life, you would be a little irritated, but I bet you wouldn’t be this angry.”
“Are you trying to make me less angry?”
There was a long pause.
“Is it working?”
I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing, and she joined me. I never expected such cheek from Amy, but it certainly did lift the atmosphere. When both our laughter had died down, I said, “A little. I suppose it shouldn’t have mattered. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on reading it, anyway.”
“So it’s settled?”
I think even she could tell that I was lying.
A/N: This chapter appears to be quite short, and I'm sorry for that. But I promise that the next one will be longer and better!
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