Ménage à trois
“Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, a girl with kaleidoscope eyesss,” sings the fair-haired girl loudly in a completely off-key voice. She sways her hips as she walks towards the lake, looks back at the blond-haired boy and winks, a smile playing at her lips.
The blond boy who has his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets, rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but still trails after the girl. “Rory, if you continue singing I’m pretty sure you’ll make everyone deaf.”
The girl, Rory brandishes her book and hits the boy upside the head. “Lysander, I just a have a different pitch, that’s all.”
Lysander raises an eyebrow at her and smirks.
“Jerk,” she mutters jokingly and continues to walk ahead of him, singing the same Muggle song.
She stops at birch tree near the lake and lies down on the grass, shaded from the sun by the tree’s wilting branches.
Lysander sits down next to her and leans his head against the trunk of the tree and barely closes his eyes when she nudges him with her elbow.
“Oi, pretty boy,” stage-whispers Rory. “The Veela, twelve o’clock.”
Lysander’s green eyes snap open to see Dominique Weasley walking gracefully towards him. Her long sheet of silvery-blonde hair falls almost to her waist and she gives Lysander a dazzling smile. “Hi, Lysander,” she says, looking at him through her long eyelashes. Rory barely stifles a snort and Dominique shoots her an annoyed look but then turns back to Lysander, smiling.
Lysander was, as Rory had once said, one of those rare species of boys that were clearly unaware of their good looks. He’d never really grown out of his self-consciousness, when it came to people he wasn’t comfortable with. He smiles awkwardly and averts his eyes from her piercing sapphire stare. “Hi, Dominique.”
“I watched the match yesterday, you’re an amazing
Seeker,” gushes Dominique.
Dominique’s flirtatious manner is completely lost on Lysander, who just looks uncomfortable. “Oh, well… thank you.”
Dominique smiles again and shakes back her long hair. “Well, I’ll see you later, Lysander.”
“ ’Bye,” replies Lysander uneasily, waving awkwardly.
Rory tries to stifle her laughter to no avail. She buries her face in her book and then sobers up, looking over at Lysander with a raised eyebrow. “Wait,” she says, holding up her hands. “She still
trying to hit on you?”
“Yeah,” mumbles Lysander, fighting back a smile. He leans his head against the trunk of the tree and looks at Rory through half-closed eyes.
Rory laughs softly and shakes her head. “Veelas can’t possibly understand how gay
boys aren’t interested even in them
“She doesn’t know I’m gay,” answers Lysander, rolling his eyes.
-lease, Lysander – if you were anymore gay, you’d be Dumbledore,” says Rory. She lies down next to him on the grass again and uses her Muggle novel to shade her eyes from the sun.
“No one actually knew if Dumbledore was gay,” counters Lysander.
Rory raises her eyebrow again. “My mum said the man wore baby blue
robes, for Merlin’s knickers sake! And look at him, most powerful wizard there was and he was always after the boy fish in the sea.” Rory grins at her own joke and loosens her Ravenclaw tie.
“You’re not helping, Rory,” mutters Lysander, rolling his eyes. “And by the way, it’s sad that you laugh at your own jokes.” He grins at Rory who sticks her tongue out at her best friend and returns to her novel.
“What am I supposed to tell her?” asks Lysander. “ ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not even into your gender?’ ”
Rory laughs again. “No, I think you should go with the ‘Sorry, my door swings the wrong way.’ ”
“Yeah, that’s definitely
what I’m going to say,” says Lysander sarcastically.
Rory bites her bottom lip, hearing the bitterness in his voice. “Everyone will just accept it, you know.”
“Yeah,” says Lysander, tracing the ground aimlessly with a twig. “Because they’re all going to just accept it like you did.”
Rory reaches up to hug him, burying her face in his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay, Ly. I promise.”
“I don’t know, Rory.”
Rory lets go of Lysander and looks up at him. The sun shines on her blonde hair and her one blue eye and one brown eye sparkle and Lysander can’t help but smile. “Ly, seriously, your mum and dad will accept it, I accept it…” She trails off and pushes the few blonde strands that fall into her face away but still has that determined look in her eyes.
“And everyone else?” asks Lysander tentatively.
“Screw everyone else,” says Rory, pulling Lysander’s hand and lacing her fingers through his. “I’m the only awesome one in this place, anyway.” She sighs jokingly and Lysander smiles, but only half-heartedly. She grins and hits him playfully with her book. “Honestly, what does it matter?”
Lysander shrugs, but inwardly he knows that it does matter – a lot.
“ ’C’mon, Lysander, put a smile on that ridiculously handsome face of yours,” says Rory, poking him lightly in the ribs.
Lysander plasters a huge, fake smile on his face and she smiles.
“Want one?” she asks, pulling out a small box of Zonko’s candy from her pocket. Lysander nods and she drops a couple into his open palm. “They’re bubblegum-flavoured,” she says happily, dropping them into her open mouth.
“They’re disgusting,” says Lysander spiting out the foul-tasting candy.
Rory shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
Lysander pulls his black spiral-bound sketchbook onto his lap and opens it. He fumbles in his book bag for his coloured pencils and drops them in his lap, balancing the sketchbook on his knees. Rory returns to her worn Muggle book as Lysander begins to draw and the two sit in silence.
Lysander’s pencil glides across the page and he looks down at Rory who has her brow furrowed slightly in concentration. He begins to draw her profile just as a textbook falls onto to the grass inches away from where Rory is lying, sprawled on the grass. Lysander and Rory look up, startled to see a couple of seventh-year Gryffindors by the lake. James Potter, Cullen McLaggen and Hayden Finnigan.
“Potter,” says Rory flatly, as if it’s inevitable.
Lysander looks away quickly upon seeing the Gryffindors looking over at them. Rory grasps the textbook and throws it with surprising force. It flies across the sky and lands in front of the three Gryffindor boys. They all stare at Rory in utter amazement. For someone so small, she did have a great arm. “You’re welcome,” she shouts at them and then lies down again on the grass, returning to her book.
“I don’t know why people are so intimidated by him,” says Rory, glancing back at James. “He isn’t even that
Lysander nods absentmindedly. He doesn’t say that he thinks that James is perhaps the most attractive boy he’s ever seen because it sounds stupid even to him.
“And, Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor last year… which means you’re a better Seeker than him,” she continues, matter-of-factly.
Lysander doesn’t mention that it was by a complete fluke that he even caught the Snitch. He’d actually swallowed it and nearly choked to death. “He’s still a good Seeker,” says Lysander.
Rory looks over at him. “He’s so arrogant that it takes away from any talent he actually has.”
Lysander can’t disagree.
“Hey, Warrington.” A voice interrupts Rory and Lysander’s conversation and they both look towards who had addressed Rory.
James , Cullen and Hayden had stopped in front of where Rory lay on the grass. James had spoken in his loud, commanding voice. “Thanks for this,” he continues, holding up the textbook that Rory had only moments ago thrown.
“I said you were welcome,” replies Rory, without looking up.
James’ confident demeanor falters slightly. He furrows his brow in confusion and his blue eyes dart from Rory to Lysander. He runs a hand through his already disheveled dark hair. The expression on his face is blank as though he is in deep concentration. His eyes flash to meet Lysander’s and Lysander blushes faintly. James’ lips curve into a smirk and he walks off without another word.
what I mean?” asks Rory. “He is so arrogant. He’s almost worse than Lorcan
“Yeah,” answers Lysander, swallowing thickly. He didn’t fail to notice the look that James had on his face as he watched Rory. It was like intrigue mixed with something else he couldn’t quite place.
“Look at him now
,” continues Rory.
Lysander looks up again and his eyes find James, who is flirting with a seventh-year Hufflepuff that Lysander can’t name. James is smirking and pushes back his trademark black hair with a free hand. The other he has wrapped around the girl's waist.
Rory rolls her eyes. “It’s his flavour of the week,” she comments dryly.
Lysander shrugs as if he doesn’t care in the slightest, but the truth is that he does.
“I bet James Potter will never fall in love and then end up alone,” says Rory.
Lysander shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think he’ll fall in love.” Perhaps it was Lysander’s childish hopes that James would one day reciprocate his feelings or perhaps it was because he knew that James would fall in love with someone who wasn't him.
Rory raises an eyebrow. “You wanna bet, blondie?”
“Sure.” His eyes still trailing after James. “What’s the wager?”
Rory thinks for a moment. “Well,” she begins, smirking. “I know that I’m going to win… so you’ll owe me twenty-six
packages of these.” She holds up the Zonko’s candy box and Lysander laughs.
“Deal,” he says. Rory holds out a hand and Lysander shakes it, looking up to meet her brown and blue eyes with his green.
Rory grins and turns back to her book. Lysander glances at his sketchbook but he’s lost the feeling to draw anymore. “What about you?” he asks nudging her side with his foot.
“What about me?” she asks, looking up from her book.
Lysander looks away, suddenly embarrassed by his question. “Do you think you’ll ever fall in love?”
Rory pauses for a moment then smiles, lifting up her book. “Yes,” she sighs dramatically, clutching the book to her chest. “Mr Darcy is quite dreamy. I think he'll definitely have me by chapter twenty.”
She laughs and Lysander forces a smile. Rory starts to read again and Lysander realizes that she never asked him the question. Maybe it was because she already knew that he had fallen in love.
I know the last thing I should be doing is starting another story but I can't help myself. I really liked writing this and hopefully you guys liked reading it. If you read my other stories you're probably wondering why I have all these French titles - they just fit better! Translated into English they don't have the same... yeah, okay, whatever.
And... Mr Darcy belongs to Jane Austen. All canon characters aren't mine, but Rory is my OC. Props to anyone who knows the song that Rory is singing at the beginning. It belongs to the Beatles.
Thank you all for reading and please review!
chapter image by ariana_tithe@TDAs