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Problem by dracos_hotter
Chapter 19 : The Almost Boyfriend
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 15


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By Lady Malfoy at TDA =D


Problem 27: I am being kidnapped by my own relatives. 

“Roxy!” I splutter as she locks the door, “What the hell?” 

She shushes me and starts to pace up and down. I sense a mad lady. 

“Oh my God,” she says quietly, “I’m an idiot.” 

“Really?” I like to think of myself as helpful. But Roxy seems to think not. No, she seems to think punching me in the shoulder would be more helpful. “Ow!” 

“I’m sorry but I am very, very stressed!” 

She sits down heavily on the floor, and motions for me to follow suit. Against my better judgement, I place myself near her fists again. 

“What’s up?” I ask tentatively, and it’s as if the floodgates open and out pours the drama. 

“Oh my God I ignored them and then they spiked my drink with something bad and I kissed Matt and Verity and then I’m pretty sure I collapsed at James’s feet and I woke up in the hospital wing and OH GOD I THINK I CHEATED ON MY ALMOST BOYFRIEND.” 

Almost boyfriend? And I thought I was complicated. 

“Ignored who?” I question stupidly. This can only lead to more of Roxy’s madwoman babbling. 

“The fan club! The fucking mentalist FAN CLUB!” 

“Right. What did you do this time?” Deciding I’m in for the long haul, I might as well get the whole story. 

“Snogged him.” 

“That it?” I’ve done way worse than that and not been attacked... 

“It admittedly was while I flipped them off. In the middle of the corridor. Before charms,” Roxy sighs, almost as if she regrets her actions. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved. I should have just... left him be. Now thanks to a few freaky fans, I’ve kissed not only your boyfriend, but Verity, the bloody paper editor, and I don’t know who else because after Verity I sort of blacked out.” 

It’s strange hearing Roxy miserable. Usually she’s so... bouncy. 

“Hey, cheer up, chick,” I attempt to comfort. Comforting has never really been my forte. “Me and Matt sort of broke up anyway.” 

“How can you ‘sort-of’ break up with someone?” she asks curiously. 

“Well, I guess he called me out. I have no idea where I stand,” I admit, “It’s like having an ‘almost boyfriend’ except he’s madly pissed off at you.” 

“Lovely,” Roxy comments, “I don’t actually know if Nathan’s annoyed or not, given that I’ve been avoiding him for the whole hour since I escaped the hospital wing.” 

I stare at her. She stares back. 

“Well, Roxy, there’s one way to find out,” I start suggestively. Roxy looks horrified. 

“But what if he is?!” 

“What if he’s angry, or what if he’s not?” I question, “Come on.” 

Standing up, I hold out my hand. She grabs onto it, and I haul her to her feet. She looks uncharacteristically scared. Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself. 

“I can do this,” she murmurs. 

As soon as we step out of the door, hands held, it becomes apparent we have a problem. 

The castle is huge, and he could be bloody anywhere. 

“Oh, fuck,” I moan, “Couldn’t this be something diminutive?” 

Nonetheless, we set off towards the one place we can think of – the lake. If he’s not there, at least we’ve had a nice walk. 

“Are you sure I can’t just pretend this never happened?” Roxy says hesitantly, and I look in the same direction she’s looking. By some kind of miracle, hot Nathan is indeed by the lake, skimming stones. 

“No,” I reply with steely resolve, “You won’t forget, he won’t forget, and it’ll probably be in the paper tomorrow anyway.” 

With a slight moan, Roxy drops my hand. “I shall go this alone,” she says dramatically.
I snort. “What, and get thrown in the lake again? No chance.” 

She glares at me. Behind her, the Whomping Willow is swaying. “Fine,” she finally concedes, “But at least pretend not to be eavesdropping.” 

I beam, and she glares back. Suit yourself. 

I watch her approach Hot Nathan – she calls his name and he turns around, expression unreadable. And then she trips and falls over. Suddenly, I see him looking both shocked and horrified. Ooh – he’s going to help her to her feet. How romantic. See, if I fell it’d probably be Scorpius tripping me, so... Well. Not gonna go there. 

“Oh, God, sorry,” Roxy apologises. WHY IS SHE APOLOGISING? 

Nathan smiles. Merlin, I remember why he’s nicknamed Hot Nathan. 

“That’s fine,” he says, “Why did you apologise?” 

Yeah Roxy, why? 

Roxanne blushes. Wow, she must like him. She not only fell over, but she’s nervous. 

Hahaha Roxanne nervous... the world must be ending. 

“Because I think I might have done something stupid,” she mumbles. How am I supposed to eavesdrop if she mumbles? 

“You mean kissing a load of random people?” Hot Nathan chuckles, “And then passing out in front of Professor Potter muttering ‘snoggy snog snog?’” 

Roxanne visibly cringes. She didn’t tell me that part of the story. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to wet myself laughing. 

“Yeah, that,” she says, looking embarrassed and somehow confident at the same time. 

Hot Nathan shrugs. “Forget it, I heard some weirdo poisoned you.” 

Yeah. Some weirdo. 

Speaking of which, I see a blonde head pop out from the side of a bush and glare at the happy – well, mildly embarrassed – couple. Time to put a stop to this ‘fan club’ business. 

Heading over to the bush, which is now rustling ominously, I take the longer but more concealed route. Hell, I want the element of surprise. I have no idea how many of them are in there, and Roxy will probably vote to run and hide if I get into trouble.
Not that she’s a coward. She just likes her face the way it is. And trust me, I know enough about confrontation to expect that I’ll have to go up to the hospital wing and grab some bruise paste. Or worse. 

As I near the wobbling bush, I find three almost identical girls hidden – or they were when I was the other side of the bush – behind it. When I say identical, I’m not kidding. They all have very, very blonde hair with even blonde extensions starting about at their shoulders, very, very pink lips with matching pink pouts, and what looks like very, very tight clothing. Fan club my left buttock: this is Hogwarts Association of Plastic Fantastic. 

Or Plastic Ew. Depends what your style is, I guess. 

Anyway, I’m highly unimpressed they threw my cousin in a lake. They’d be ugly even if they were pretty that way, you know? 

Pulling my wand out, I point it carefully at the middle... um... girl? I’m ashamed at my own gender. They can be a new gender: the Very Blonde Creep. 

“Petrificus Totalus,” I say smoothly. VBC snaps into position, her eyes darting about wildly. “Hello, blondes.” 

The two other VBC’s look scared. 

“Sc-Scorpius Malfoy?” the one on the left squeaks. I frown. 

“No, stupid, it’s Rose Weasley,” I retort, “How stupid are you?” 

“How deaf are you?” Scorpius says from behind me, and I spin around as he flicks his wand rapidly at the two other VBC’s in turn. “I’ve been tailing you for two whole minutes.” 

“I can’t help it if you’re annoyingly sneaky,” I snap. He doesn’t seem surprised, or bothered. “What are you doing tailing me?” 

“What are you doing cursing innocent blondes? Not to mention accusing them of being stupid.” 

Oh, nice come back. “Shut up, Malfoy,” I grumble, “Besides, they threw my cousin in the lake.” 

Scorpius points past the bush to where I last spotted Roxanne and Nathan. “You mean that one?” 

I glance at them. They’re snogging madly. “Yep.”
“Yeah, I saw them do it,” he says coolly. I glare at him. 

“Why didn’t you bloody help?” I ask angrily, “You could’ve stopped it!” 

Scorpius shrugs nonchalantly. “Well I tried, but I do believe the words she yelled were ‘Fucking hell, not you too’.” 

I shrugged in reply. “Sounds like her.” 

As if we’ve just made a unanimous decision, we both turn to head back to the castle. It’s rather spiffy walking with Scorpius. He smells really, really nice. 

He smells like a hug. 

We get to the main hall, part ways, and don’t see each other for the rest of the day. 









“Snoggy Snog SNOG!” 

Those were the last words heard from the sexual deviant Roxanne Weasley yesterday, after a rampage of tyrannical and mildly poetic kissing. The people who fell victim to her parade of tongue are as follow: Matt Grimsby, the now confirmed ex-boyfriend of Rose Weasley. I, the writer. Fenella Poplin, Rachel Hunt and Miranda Grace Jones in quick succession, and finally one Alistair Creevey, who is just twelve, a ripe an impressionable age. 

Following this attack of amorous energy, Miss Weasley collapsed at the feet of her cousin and teacher, Professor James Potter.
 

I sniggered to myself. Oh, poor Roxy.


But then again, poor me. Who the bloody hell confirmed that Matt was my ex? He never even made it official. I mean, two fingers in my face is pretty official, but really. 

There was only one thing for it: I was going to have to ask him if I was single. How humiliating. 

It’s a reasonably quiet Monday morning at Hogwarts, and I’ve got not only a full cup of coffee but a full plate of untouched food in front of me. I keep eyeing it, telling myself to eat, but I think I’ve caught something from those blondes, and it’s making me want to vomit all over said plate of food. 

So instead I’m reading Verity’s crappy paper. So far the front page has a picture of Roxanne lying at a shocked looking James’ feet, and a brilliant article that everyone in the school – bar a select few – has probably read. 

Flicking to page two however, I suddenly remember why I hate this stupid rag so much. In huge, bold print letters, with a rather large cartoon image of what looks like a crazy red head with a guitar, is the phrase ‘Entirely superficial and disgustingly shallow’. Oh great. Reading whilst glaring, I conclude one of Matt’s friends submitted an ‘anonymous’ article, complete with picture. Fan-bloody-tastic. 

There’s a tap on my shoulder, and an awkward clearing of the throat. I turn my head to see Matt looking sheepish. 

“Can I sit down?” he asks, and I nod. Hey, free country. But I will kill your friend. He notices the article sitting in my hands. “Ah. Sorry.” 

I sigh, looking longingly at my coffee and breakfast. If only the thought of putting food in my mouth didn’t make me want to hurl. 

“That’s fine, Matt,” I decide, “It’s not your fault.” 

“Sorry, though. I didn’t think he’d actually put it forward, it was just a joke.” 

Well it wasn’t bloody funny. 

Caspar plops into the seat opposite me, glancing briefly at Matt. She does a double take. 

“What are you doing here, cartoon boy?” she asks rudely, “And Rose has never looked that stupid with a guitar, anyway.” 

“That’s entirely not my fault,” Matt snaps back. Oh God, my ex and my best friend are having a bitch fight. “I can’t help it if my friends have a sense of humour!” 

“No, but you could but a bloody leash on them or something!” Caspar retaliates. I think I’m getting a migraine. 

I stand up abruptly as Matt opens his mouth to argue some more, and sway strangely. His attention is immediately back on me. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, which is about the time I fall backwards onto him.






'ello again. I own nothing. 

drop a line? 

xE


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