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Wall Flower by kirstenalanna
Chapter 8 : chapter seven: happily ever after
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 7


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"Inhale, breathe steady, exhale, like you're ready, if you're ready or not.
Just a boy and a girl trying to take on the world, and we want to get caught.
In the middle of a very happy ending, let's see what we've got, let's give it a shot.
Let's give it a shot. We all want to know, how it ends."

Happily Ever After- He Is We







Things had decidedly reached the breaking point.  Something had to be done.  By something, I mean halt the order of things and alter fate.  Fate can screw itself for all I care.

            Did you hear that fate?  I’m spitting on your turf!

            ...

            Right.

            Being in Ravenclaw meant that I was logical, and ridiculously intelligent.  So of course, in order to fix the situation I had logically pulled out my notebook and pen and found a quiet corner in the castle.  Usually, this would mean going to the astronomy tower.  Not to-frigging-day.

            In his deep depression, Fred thought it’d be wise to deface the astronomy tower.  Focus all his sad and morose energy into his “art.”  His words, not mine.  The final product?  The astronomy tower was banned from all students.  Astronomy lessons cancelled until the “defacement” could be removed.

            Bloody Fred.

            Thus, this was why I found myself perched in a stone windowsill overlooking the vastness that is the Hogwarts Castle.  I was in some unused tower, enjoying the cool breeze from outside.

            Another issue- why doesn’t Hogwarts have windows...or you know, screens for the windows?  I was literally inches from my demise...if I leaned too far.

            Anyways, back to my list.

            I was compiling a list which I deemed...

Reasons why I, Lexie Anderson, should NOT Love James Potter

1)  He’s in every one of your classes, and is your partner.  Can you say clingy?

2)  He’s always there, and knows when you're upset...violation of privacy?

3)  He plays Quidditch

4)  He likes Brussels sprouts

5)  He is insightful, sometimes too much so

6)  He’s unfailingly kind

7)  His hair doesn’t know how to treat a comb

8)  His family is famous

9) Love makes people stupid, look at Romeo and Juliet

10) I’m setting myself up for failure

            The only problem was, every time I wrote something down I had to then cross it off.  Why?  Well, it wasn’t James’ fault he was in every one of my classes.  I enjoyed being his class partner.  Being there for someone shouldn’t be a criminal offence either.  The fact that he knew what was bothering me without having to ask was comforting.  Being nice is never a bad thing.  James’ messy hair was again something that attracted me to him.  His family was famous...but they were bloody brilliant.  And....Quidditch?  Sure it scared the shite out of me and I now had nightmares of Quidditch related injuries affecting James....but have you seen his muscles?

            Love was messy, and yes it made people do stupid things...but wasn’t that what life was about?  Making messes?  As for setting myself up for failure?  James was worth a try.

            So far all I had was he likes brussels sprouts.  I was bloody well screwed.




One positive thing about being James’ partner in...well every class was that it made it incredibly easy to collect homework for him.  So easy in fact that I didn’t even have to go talk to teachers after class to ask them.  I just waved my wand and BAM!  James’ homework was documented.

            Much to his chagrin.

            The oh-so-stupid-quidditch player, also known as James.  The one who told me he’d be out of the hospital the next day. 

            Really, Lexie, it isn’t that bad, I’ve had worse.  I just can’t sit up...or, you know, walk but walking is overrated anyways. 

            That was two days ago.  Madame Pomfrey is rather protective.  So, with my bag weighed down by not only my schoolbooks and homework, but James’ as well I walked quickly towards the hospital wing.

            I knocked on the door lightly twice and then entered.  Madame Pomfrey, who was tending a very disgruntled looking James, smiled at me and beckoned me to enter.

            “Miss Anderson, how are you today?”  she asked cheerfully.  James stared at her with a dumbfounded expression.  Apparently, I was the only student who could get away with visiting at odd hours.  Not only that, but got the pleasant greeting and hello.  I know this because last time I came, Albus, Fred and Rose came with me.  Madame Pomfrey lectured the three of them, sent them packing and then turned to me with a pleasant smile.  She even conjured a comfier chair for me to sit in beside James’ bedside. 

            Fred calls it an injustice.  I call it karma.

            Madame Pomfrey loves me, a fact that brings me glee every time I think about it.  No one really understands why, but I think I have a vague idea.  I’m perfectly fine with her hovering over James and force-feeding him potions.  She appreciates that I appreciate her “hard work.”  I was beginning to realize that keeping the Potters (any of them) was hard work.  It really was a miracle that James was still alive.  And Albus.  And Harry.  Ginny and Lily were excused from this as the boys put themselves in danger to keep their wife, mom, sister and daughter safe.  Apparently, according to Albus, I was in the “helpless females who must be protected by the Potter boys” group as well.

            Eejits.

            “I’m fine, Madame Pomfrey.  How was James today?”  I asked, really asking if James gave her any trouble.  Madame Pomfrey and I were a team, or a well oiled machine created to keep James safe and get him healthy again.

            Glaring at James momentarily Madame Pomfrey answered, “He’d be doing much better today if he didn’t try to get out of bed.”

            I glared at James as well, but he refused to meet my eyes.  Coward.

            “Well, I’m sure he’ll be better tomorrow.  Would you mind if I helped him catch up with his homework?”  Madame Pomfrey turned her icy glare from James towards me, except her gaze was filled with warmth.

            “Of course.  I’ll leave you to it,” she said, walking towards her office.

            “You’re evil.  Pure evil,” James muttered.

            “No, I’m not.  You’re just stubborn and won’t listen...not to mention not allow anyone to take care of you.”

            “Am not!”

            “Stop acting like a two year old,” I said in a sing song voice.  James crossed his arms, trying to get comfortable in his bed.  It didn’t fail to reach my notice that he in fact winced.

            “So what have you got for me?”  James asked, motioning towards my bag.

            “Basically an hour and a half’s worth of work.” 

            James groaned, “Can we, for the sake of my mental health...not?”  I scrutinized James’ face.

            “Alright.”  James visibly brightened.

            “So tell me about your day,” he said.  I bit my lip.  To tell him about my day would mean telling him how dull and dreary it was without him around.

            “Well, Fred is driving me insane,” I consented lightly.

            “Why is that?”

            “He’s gone all anal retentive when it comes to Catherine.  He’s terrified that she’ll slip him a love potion or bewitch him or something, so he spends all of his spare time with me.  He would’ve been spending his time with you, but now I think he feels as though you’ve abandoned the bromance that is most certainly going on between you, no offence.  Rose won’t put up with him for longer than breakfast...and lately, since you haven’t been around to glare at her or lecture her for sitting with the Slytherins, she’s been sitting with Scorp, so I’m stuck with him.”

            “Rose is sitting with the Slytherins?!”  James practically screamed.  I sighed.  I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.

            “Yes.  In fact, I remember she has been sitting with her boyfriend at the Slytherin table.”

            “She’s not allowed to do that.”  I raised my eyebrows.

            “According to whose rules?”  I asked sharply.  James was too worked up to notice.

            “First off- Slytherin table is off limits.  They’re all gits.  Secondly, if a guy wants to sit with a girl, he joins her at her table.  It’s the gentlemanly thing to do,”  James said simply.  I just stared at him.  Really stared at him.  Did he really not see the hypocrisy?  What potions was he on?

            “Are you serious?”  I said, rather flabbergasted.  James nodded seriously.  I bit my lip, trying to hold back a lecture or a history lesson.  Really, I was trying really hard.

            “Spit it out Lex, what are you trying not to say?”  James asked with a laugh.  Alright then, he asked for it.

            “You IDIOT!”  I screeched, standing up and then I started to pace.  “First off, Severus Snape saved your dad’s life.  He risked his life, lost all of his friends and entered a world of complete hate and darkness so that Harry Potter could survive and defeat Voldemort.  The “Slytherins are slippery Dark gits,” taunt is not only incorrect but completely prejudiced.  I’ll admit some of them are jerks, but there are jerks in every house so don’t even try to deny it,”  I said, glaring at James.  He had tried to interrupt me.  No one interrupts me when I’m on a roll.  “Furthermore, it’s rather hypocritical for you to say that Scorpius should sit at the Gryffindor table when I sit at your bloody table every ruddy day!  Don’t even go there!  So, why don’t you start practicing what you preach before you jump down Rose’s throat.  She’s trying to ESCAPE Fred,” I said, panting at the effort.  I sat down and crossed my arms, glaring at James.

            James opened his mouth several times, obviously trying to form a coherent sentence. 

            “Okay,” he said.  “And Fred and I DO NOT have a bromance.”

            “Yes, you do,” I said around a smile.  James wasn’t even going to try to argue with me on the Slytherin-table issue.  He knew I was right.  Triumph.

            “What’s a bromance in your words then?”  he asked stubbornly.

            “Well for one, you finish each other’s sentences, have ‘bro nights,’ know who you both have crushes on, have inside jokes, and you probably share clothes too,”  I listed off, feeling rather smug at James’ sinking expression.

            After a few moments of silence he snapped, “Fine, Fred and I have a bromance.  Sue me.”

            I laughed and in turn James started to laugh.  Anything to cheer the chap up.

            “Ugh, I want to get out of here so bad.  I’m going stir crazy,” James groaned. 

            “Would it make you feel better if I made a list of things that were bothering me today?”  I asked seriously.  James nodded eagerly. 

            I took a deep breath.  “I’ve been craving Chinese food for the past few days, and don’t laugh.  It’s a serious craving.  I can’t go to the kitchen and request that the house elves make me some because last time I did I went there and ordered chow mien and lemon chicken I got spaghetti noodles with some weird sauce on it and chicken coated in lemonade drink powder deep fried.  It was disgusting.  Then this morning when I was getting ready, I realize that I’m out of conditioner so my hair's a frizzy mess.  No conditioner when you have curly hair is terrible.  And my roommates are out to get me because I told them to find a new doormat.  Ugh!  And I’m trying to write this list of reasons, but every time I write one down, I have to erase it because it’s counterproductive.

            “Oh, and I stubbed my toe today too.”

            I looked at James to see he was struggling to hold back laughter.  I smiled- mission accomplished.

            “Chinese food?”  James questioned.

            I nodded seriously.

            “No conditioner?”

            “Yup.”

            “You stood up to your dorm-mates and never told me?”

            “Basically.”

            “What’s this list about?”  James asked.  I sent him a wry grin.

            “Just because I told you about it doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you everything.

            “Ah, I see,” he said.  It was silent for several minutes before he said, “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me?”

            “Positive.”




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