credit to dumbledear! @ tda for the stunning image!
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and sighed. Muggle Studies was usually a fun class, but today Professor Criss was taking his sweet time explaining the inner workings of a light bulb and it was anything but interesting. I soon found myself staring at the back of the brown-haired head in front of me and began to feel the early tendrils of sleep sinking in. The muggle school desks we used were uncomfortably close together and if I let myself drift off I just knew I would land on one of the classmates on either side of me, so I fought to stay awake and pinched my arm, but to no avail. The person in front of me took in a deep breath then sighed. I watched as a few strands of his hair moved upward from this disturbance. My eyelids began to close and I started thinking, If I plant my feet firmly on the ground and hold on to the sides of my desk then the chances of falling over are at a minimum, but just as I resigned myself to my fate something smacked me hard in the face. My eyes flew open and I whisper-shouted bugger, and any thought of sleep was forgotten in the new pursuit of finding out and seriously injuring whoever disturbed my almost-slumber. The boy in front of my chuckled quietly, his shoulders shaking slightly, and I narrowed my eyes at the back of his head.
“Okay students, only five minutes left. You can chat quietly with your neighbors, but I suggest that you start writing an outline for your two-foot essay on electricity that is due Friday,” Professor Criss announced, but it seemed as though everyone only heard the first half of his comment because soon chairs were sliding across the floor and loud laughter filled the room
I reached out to poke my suspect in the shoulder, but he quickly turned his body around and smirked at me, dimple flashing. I felt a surge of irritation run through me.
“I’m sorry, Wood. I was merely stretching when your face came in contact with my hand. Please forgive me?”
He quickly replaced his smirk with a look of pure innocence, one I’d seen him use on Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Longbottom on more than one occasion. Pouty lip and hazel eyes widened to twice their normal size, I felt the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
“Not likely, James,” I replied, crossing my arms in front of me, “There’s no such thing as an accident when it comes to you.”
He gasped in mock offense, laying his hand down on my desk, “You mean to say that I would purposefully hit such a pretty face?!”
He tapped the end of my nose with a finger and when I scowled, he grinned.
“That is exactly what I mean,” I crossed my legs, making myself into pretzel and pointedly ignoring the fact that he called me pretty, because he only said it with the intention of wooing me and therefore receiving a statement of forgiveness for assaulting me, which was not going to happen.
“But, Allisonnnn,” he whined, “I would never hurt one of my players.”
“Well, obviously, I’m some sort of exception, because I clearly recall you smacking me in the face not two minutes ago and I’m 99.999% sure I will have a bruise to prove it,” and I wasn’t exaggerating. I could still feel a dull ache on my right cheek bone, it was a feeling I was quite accustomed to after being on the Gryffindor quidditch team for three years, a feeling that I knew would result in some sort of skin discoloration and soreness.
James furrowed his eyebrows into an expression that I would normally recognize as a sign of concern on a person, but James Potter wasn’t a normal person. I first met him shortly after boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time. I had just waved my nanny goodbye when I turned around and bumped heads with none other than James Sirius Potter, son of Harry and Ginny Potter, saviors of the wizarding world, but of course, being the naive eleven-year-old that I was I didn’t recognize him and vehemently told him off for not paying attention to where he was going.
Of course, I knew who Harry Potter was. I heard dozens of stories about him from my parents Oliver Wood and Katie Bell-Wood and I think that if I knew right away who I bumped into then I would’ve thought twice before rambling insults and shouting at him, but then gone and done it anyway. I wasn't and still not normally like that, but I think the combination of being physically harmed and leaving home for the first time put my nerves on edge. The whole time he was smirking and I should have known then that I was in for a lot of trouble. He was with a petite girl with strawberry blonde hair who stared, open-mouthed as I scolded the boy next to her and when I was done, and breathing heavily, she smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen in all of my eleven years.
“My name is Dominique Weasley and after seeing you telling off my cousin like that I think we will get along just fine.” And she was right and has been my best mate ever since. But James, he was another story. We were friends, but not too close, because if I spent too much time with him I’m likely to have a fit. We tend to bicker, a lot, but every time he gives me something as his own sign of apology. After our first of many fights in the corridor on the train I sat with him, Dominique, and their cousin Freddie, who I liked as soon as I met, in an empty compartment. I made sure to glare at James the whole time, but when the Trolley came ‘round he bought me five chocolate frogs, so I couldn’t help it, I forgave him, even though the first impression I gave to my fellow students was as the girl with the giant bump on her head.
Coming back to the present I noticed James reaching a hand out towards my face, but I quickly swatted it away. He shot me a look and reached forwards again, so I jerked back.
“Oi! What are you doing?!”
“Calm down, Wood. Just let me take a look.” I sighed and let him brush his thumb against my cheek bone and my stomach did a weird lurch that I was not at all pleased with. He brought his face dangerously close to mine, studying what I assumed was a discolored mark developing below my eye, and his close proximity brought unwanted butterflies and sped up my heart rate. I cursed my teenage hormones. He then said softly, “Oh, there is a bruise coming along.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed him away, desperately trying to rid myself of the weird feelings I was experiencing.
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll have Dom fix it later,” I shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. His face held a look of concern for another moment and he stared at me, really stared. His fazed travelled to my lips. I raised my eyebrows and he blushed, mumbling something that sounded like I really am sorry and it was an accident, but then soon the true James Potter resurfaced when he realized he was talking to me, worrying about me, staring at my lips, Allison Wood’s lips. Joking-around-like-mates Allison Wood, Girl-he-threw-into-the-Black-Lake during second, third, and fourth year until hexed by a petite blonde cousin Allison Wood, and last but not least GIRL-HE-NEVER-BLUSHED-AT Allison Wood. He was making me feel all kinds of weird jittery feelings and it wasn’t right. James was a mate, not someone I felt teenage urges around, like hug him and then snog his face off urges. So, the look he held was soon masked with one of nonchalance as he leaned back against his desk, trying to look casual, but failing horribly.
“Well, we know this certainly isn’t the first time you’ve managed to injure yourself by practically doing nothing,” he smirked, the old irritated feeling came back and I welcomed it with open arms. I opened my mouth, retort ready, when the bell rang and everyone jumped from their seats. So I had to settle for what I hoped was an icy glare and stalked out of the room. It wasn’t until I was halfway to my next class did I realize that I was headed to Charms, a class I had with James, a class in which we shared the same desk. Bugger.
A/N: Okay, so this is my first fic. Ever. So I apologize if it's rough. I don't know if I'll even continue it since I am just testing the waters. Please R&R and tell me what you think! It would really help! I am thinking of posting a Albus S. Potter/OC fic I started that I think is more interesting than this one.
p.s. I couldn't think of a decent name for the Muggle Studies professor until I looked at my wall and saw a picture of Darren Criss and thought What the heck! Why not?!