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Chapter 5 : And then I actually enjoy myself...
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So... I was going on a date. With James Potter.
I still wasn’t sure exactly how that happened, but I was freaking out a little. It was a good thing Dom was being ridiculous and had barely talked to me since the Benson Flint fiasco so I was now going solo (well, we still sat together and stuff – we just didn’t talk). For once I wasn’t bothering to suck up to her, because I definitely was not in the wrong this time. Still, it sucked that I couldn’t turn to Dom now and ask her what she thought of my outfit – although I couldn’t do that anyway because I was sufficiently screwed in Dom’s books forever, by agreeing to go on a date with James Potter (Undesirable number one, according to Dom Wesley) – but still.
I’d gone with the whole autumn colour theme, as per usual, and had on a just-above-the-knee-length casual type dress. The length made it a little awkward, but if it was any shorted my legs would look a couple of billion miles long, and yes, that is a good thing, but I saved that bombshell for very special occasions. I had on very thick red-brown tights and a red zip up jacket... hopefully it looked like I’d spent about two minutes deciding what to wear.
Which I had. Now I was just deciding whether I liked what I’d picked out. I did, I decided resolutely, and grabbed my coat before heading towards the door. I glanced back at Dom, who was fast asleep – hence why I’d picked such an early time, somehow in my panic I’d still managed to be logical – and decided she wouldn’t miss me. She had a date, with Benson Flint of all people, and as long as she didn’t run into me...
It would all be fine.
“Where are you off so early, Autumn?” Jessica’s voice asked, and I had a mini heart attack and snapped round to see their usual trio sat round the fire.
“Erm, meeting someone,” I said, purposefully not using the word ‘date’ this time. Even if it was sort of a date, but only sort of.
“Lucky for some!” Felicity exclaimed, and I was just about to scarper when she started talking again, “Look, Autumn, we’re sorry about what we said about Dom, I guess we kind of forget that you guys are so close,”
“It was good that you didn’t betray her,” Danielle conceded.
“You look good,” Jessica said, nodding at my outfit and offering me a shy smile. I returned it and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Who are you meeting?” Felicity asked.
“Erm...” I began – should I tell them? It would probably be all round the school by lunch time anyway. Dom was going to kill me. “James Potter.” I mumbled very quietly.
“Who?” Danielle demanded.
“Erm, James Potter.” The shock on their faces was very clearly evident. “You won’t tell Dom will you? She erm... she wouldn’t approve.”
“Course not,” Jessica assured me quickly, as the others seemed to find this fact even more interesting.
“I’m late,” I told them before shrugging at them by way of farewell and walking out again. Why were they being nice to me? People just weren’t nice to me.
“Have fun!” Felicity yelled after to me in a singsong voice, I shoved my hands deeper inside my pockets and started ascending the thousand or so steps with the vague realisation that I was going to be about five minutes late... Dom would be pleased. Well... sort of.
“Hey,” I said, slightly shocked to find that James Potter was there despite my seven and a half minute lateness, I smiled absent mindedly at him and closed my fingers around the tiny vile in my pocket – thinking about what Dom would do if she knew what I was doing...
This was serious friendship betrayal, I’m not even kidding.
“You’re not doing the Dom thing are you?” James asked, and I took his nonplussed expression to mean he was trying to hide how much this irritated him. Good reaction... Dom would say these showed he was quite nervous and had thought I wasn’t going to turn up – two points. Plus he looked good, really good actually, good enough to earn him the full seven points... and already he had nine, and he’d only said one thing.
Damn. I’d sworn long ago I’d never use the points system, but... I was so used to being the one counting the points that it was hard not to.
I sent him a questioning look.
“The arriving ten minutes late and rating my reaction,”
“No!” I said quickly. “Well, I didn’t mean to be late; the girls from my dorm were talking to me,”
“But you still rated my reaction?” He asked, his normal smirk growing on his features.
“How am I doing?”
“Twenty-five means I’m worth your time right?”
“Worth Dom’s time.” I corrected him. “For me you’d probably only have to get fifteen.”
His expression froze for a second, and he tilted his head and examined my expression for a short period of time that felt like a lifetime. Then he broke the moment, “Personally, I’m aiming for thirty,” James grinned. “Anyway, shall we head off?”
“Sure,” I agreed, offering him a smile.
“How do I earn more points?” He asked after a few seconds of relatively comfortable silence.
“I’m not telling you that,” I said, “That’d defeat the point, anyway I’m not Dom, I don’t do the points thing.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be here if you were Dom,” James stated.
“Why?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. I was so used to everyone loving Dom... the concept that he wouldn’t want to be here with Dom was baffling.
“Because she’s my cousin?” James suggested. I laughed. Four points. Crap – he was practically at my fifteen point marker already. Not that I was counting “Anyway, I want you to keep the points – see who ranks higher than me, so I can know who to take out.”
“Riighhtt.” I said. “Because you could take out Jack Sloper...?”
“Bloody hell, he’s ahead of me?”
“About level, right now.” I replied.
“I should really polish up my act a little,” James retorted.
“You’re doing pretty good,” I reassured him. “Jack Sloper only got fourteen points throughout the whole meal...”
“My score’s jumped up hasn’t it?” James said with a smirk. “How many points do I get for offering you my coat?”
“Well,” I said, “Considering I am a Ravenclaw, and thus smart enough to bring my own coat, you lose two points for stupidity.”
“Good job I didn’t offer then,” James said, and I laughed again. Two more points for Potter. “So where do you want to go?” He asked. One point for asking my opinion.
“Erm... Puddifoots?” I asked.
He raised his eyebrows. “It’s a good job I’m not rating you, didn’t have you down as that type.”
“I’m not,” I said quickly. “But erm... I need to make sure Dom doesn’t know about this, she’s already in a strop with me and... Dom Wesley swore never to step foot in Puddifoots again.”
“So did James Potter,” James muttered.
“You get like six points for agreeing?”
“Hey now, Dom would deduct points if I so much as thought of taking her in there, so you can’t give me points for that, but... can’t deny the damsel in distress can I? Puddifoots it is.”
Four points to Potter.
“I’m sorry, but I have to ask, why are you called Autumn? I had you more down as an Amy or something,”
“I’d probably suit Amy more than Autumn,” I replied with a grimace. “I hate my name, but I’d have thought why I’m called Autumn is obvious,”
“Your hair?” James suggested.
“This is why I don’t go for Gryffindors, my hair wasn’t this colour when I was a baby,” I said, “I’m born in autumn.”
“That’s practically winter,” James said, “And that’s practically tomorrow.”
“The day after next,” I corrected him.
“Should I get you a present?” He asked and I smiled and shook my head. “I like the name Autumn though – it’s pretty.”
“My sister’s called April,” I said, “I always mock her for getting a month, whilst I got a whole season.”
“Any more siblings?”
“When’s he born?”
“So what’s his name?”
“Oliver,” The confused looked on James look was priceless; I decided to give him another couple of points for it because it was adorable.
“Wait,” He said, “Oliver Pearce?” I nodded. “He’s on my Quidditch team!”
“Really?” I asked. “He didn’t tell me about that,”
“He’s a bit nervous I think, but you should definitely come along.” I made a face. “Not into Quidditch?”
“Erm... I’m ‘above Quidditch...’ As in Dom won’t let me go,”
“The only reason Dom doesn’t like Quidditch is because she’s balls at it.” James said hotly. “And you shouldn’t just do what she wants you to do, didn’t you teach Oliver how to play? He said his sister had done, over the summer,”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“And he’s a damn good flier – had to be to get on the team.”
“Reckon you’ve got a decent chance of winning this year?” I asked.
“Chance? We’ve got it made, love.”
“You’ll be changing your tune when you see the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff game,” I said confidently.
“Doubtful,” James said. “Anyway, you haven’t asked how I knew your name.”
“I’m a Ravenclaw, I don’t ask questions – I just work things out.”
“Run your theories by me then,” James said leaning back in his chair confidently.
“You have a map.” His jaw dropped open and he started at me in shock. “A map that most probably has everyone’s name on it, and where they are in Hogwarts. Can I look at it?” I asked. “I’m curious.”
“That’s a huge secret.”
“Right,” I said. “Colossal, now hand it over Potter,”
“I can deduct points you know?” I said sweetly.
“You have to tell me how you worked it out first – can you do legilimency?”
“You don’t have to be able to read minds, Potter – its logic.”
“All right, logic and a little bit of eavesdropping.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I overhead you mentioning a map to your brother,” I admitted. “When I was trying to return the cloak... you wanted the map to try and find me or something, and then you looked at that piece of parchment and knew my name...”
“I’m impressed.” James said pulling out the parchment. And setting it down in front of me – it was blank.
“How do you unseal it?” I asked, James raised another eyebrow in recognition of my brilliance and tapped it once and said “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,”
“It’s old,” I stated as I racked my gaze over it. “The Marauders...” I read out. “Sounds a bit pretentious for it to have been made by your dad, grandparents?”
“Yeah,” He said. “James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and...”
“Peter Pettigrew.” I finished. “Was the cloak theirs too?”
“James Potter – my grandfather’s.”
“It’s the cloak your dad would have used right?” I asked eagerly. “The one that’s mentioned in ‘a recent history of modern magic’?”
“You read the history of magic text books?” James Potter asked me.
“I really like history,” I admitted.
“You doing it for NEWT?”
“I don’t like being lied to.”
“Lied to?” James asked. “What do you mean?”
“Well... your probably wouldn’t like me mentioning it – I know Dom doesn’t, but, well, history’s version of WW2 doesn’t add up. They don’t tell us things. I’ve read Rita Skeeters book about the Battle of Hogwarts, and I know she’s a complete bitch – just think about what she wrote about Dumbledore – but she’s the only person to cross reference over fifty eye witnesses to piece together what really happened. Your Dad came back to life! Started talking about wandlore – for some unknown reason – and managed to kill Lord Voldemort with an expelliarmus spell. It doesn’t make sense – what was he doing all those months when he vanished off the face of the earth? What was the relevance of Draco Malfoy? It just doesn’t add up.”
“And yet you’re sat opposite someone who has all the answers, and you haven’t asked me,” James said.
“What?” I asked eagerly. “You know!”
He nodded impressively.
“Wow,” I breathed, staring at him with an eager expression on his face. I could have answers... Except there was sure to be a good reason the truth wasn’t published in the history books, and I didn’t really want to start asking James such personal questions on this sort of date...
“Oh shit,” James muttered, looking towards the door. I craned my neck, expecting to see his brother or someone who’d make him embarrassed to be seen with me. Except... it was Dom Weasley.
Benson Flint had his arm draped around her shoulder, and she was doing her normal giggles and smiles routine, and she was in Madame Puddifoots. Madame freaking Puddifoots.
“I’m so dead.” I muttered ducking and practically flattening myself to the table in an attempt not to be seen. “She’s going to kill me – shit, shit, shit.”
“What’s the big deal?” James asked trying to look natural; even though his date now had his face pressed against the table and was muttering swearwords and obscenities into the pink wood.
“This is serious friendship betrayal!” I declared into the table.
“Serious friendship betrayal,” I muttered frantically. James was now craning over the table to hear me properly. “She made me promise never to talk to any of you,”
“What?” James asked, sounding incredulous. “Oh, so that’s why none of us have dated you yet,”
“I was wondering why none of us Weasley/Potters – and let’s be honest, there’s enough of them, haven’t dated you yet.”
“Oh come on,” I muttered picking my head of the desk and throwing my now messy hair out of my face. “There’s got to be loads of girls you haven’t dated between you,”
“Yeah, sure,” James said. “But we’re related to all of those.”
I laughed, and ducked my head down again because Dom and Flint were walking towards a table.
“Hi there,” A waitress said coming over and smiling at us. “Would you like any more drinks? Food?”
“Autumn?” James asked politely to the top of my head.
“No thanks,” I hissed backwards “And shush with the name!”
“I think we’re all right actually,” James said to the waitress politely. “Just the bill then, James?” She asked sweetly.
“James?” Dom’s voice asked, I dived under the table as she appeared over the top of the booth, and stared at where he was sitting alone.
“Hi.” James said stiffly in Dom’s direction.
“Who are you here with?” She demanded.
“Erm... Melissa something? Or Alesha... not really sure to be honest.”
“Where is she?” Benson Flint asked. “Couldn’t stand your presence either, eh Potter?”
“She just popped to the loo,” James said smoothly, just as something cool fell on my shoulder. “And actually, it’s not going to well if you must know – keeps throwing herself on me, so I’m going to be off, I think,” He said.
“If she asks, I wasn’t here,” He said with a wink.
Then he dropped a galleon or two on the table, and left.
Bastard! Bastard! What was I going to do now? I could hardly camp out here under the table until Dom and Benson left, and how would I even know? Minus forty points for James Potter! (Although that still left him with like, twenty five points which meant he was still technically worth my time). Wait, the cool thing that fell on my shoulder...
The blessed invisibility cloak! James Potter was a genius!
I slipped it on over my shoulders and snuck out from under the table, I paused... Dom and Benson were already lip locked. The waitress brought their drinks over and placed them on the table; they ignored this and carried on snogging. I paused for a second, and shoved a hand into my pocket, my fingers closing round a small vile that was my emergency ‘get out’ potion.
It made you feel really sick, and look really sick, and on every date I’d ever been on I’d had one with me, just in case the whole thing went wrong and I had to get out. If the date had been particularly awful, I’d spike his drink, and if it the guy had just been boring and I felt a bit sorry for him, I spiked my own drink...
I leant over their table and poured the entire contents of the vile into Benson Flint’s drink.
It was for Dom’s own good, I reasoned, he was using her.
James Potter was wondering around looking slightly nervous, with his hands buried deep in his pockets as he waited for me to appear. “I’m here Potter,” I muttered. He didn’t even jump, and instead just nodded.
“Wait,” I said grabbing hold of his arm and nodding in Benson Flint’s direction. They’d paused with the snogging now, and Benson took a sip of his coffee... for a split second he looked mildly confused, then very very sick, then he projectile vomited all over Dom’s brand new, designer top.
“That’s nasty,” James muttered. “Did you do that?”
“Oh yes, Potter,” I said pushing him slightly so we could get out of view and I could take off the cloak. I darted between the space between the top shops and pulled it off, walking out to greet James again.
I pulled out the tiny vile, he unscrewed the top and took a sniff, before wrinkling his nose. “Extreme nausea potion?” He questioned. I nodded and gave him a suspicious look. “Logic,” He said with a smirk, then he took my arm.
“So you just carry that around do you? Poisoning anyone who pisses you off?”
“No,” I said innocently. “It’s defensive,”
“I’m doing all right them am I?”
“Extraordinarily well,” I admitted.
“Well then,” He said with a smirk. “Where next?”
“So, what do you want to do after Hogwarts?” James Potter asked, this time lazing back on one of the comfier seats in the corner of the three broom sticks – thankfully out of way, and near enough the toilets that I could scarper if Dom entered, although considering she’d just received a face full of vomit I doubted that would be a problem.
“Generic question, minus two points Potter,” I commented without thinking.
“What’s wrong with genericness?”
“Apart from the fact that word doesn’t exist, I’m not quite sure. I suppose if you go on as many dates as Dom you’d get bored of it quickly,”
“And you don’t?”
“Well, I doubt it would be possible to keep up with Dom.”
“Yeah, fair enough,” James said, and then he thought about it for a long period of time. “So how many dates have you been on?”
“Are you really asking me this?”
“Screw the point deduction,” James said. “I’m curious. Forget how many, who have you been on dates with?”
“Mostly non-hogwartians.” I said. “Most others are off limits, either because their related to Dom, or her exes, plus... most people don’t really see me.”
“Didn’t realise blindness was such a problem in Hogwarts?”
“I mean next to Dom,” I said.
“I knew what you meant, Autumn” James said. “So who here hasn’t been a blind prat?”
“Taylor?” James asked me. I nodded. “Seriously? You went out with Sean Taylor?”
“Sean Taylor’s nice,”
“Yeah, I suppose, but I’d be expecting him to ask out like... Harriet Summers or... Ursula Belby,”
“Both of who are nice people,”
“Sure,” James said. “They’re nice enough but, well, they’re more Sean Taylor’s league. You know attractiveness wise. And you’re... not.”
“I think that was almost a compliment?” I said, smiling slightly.
“Maybe on your looks, but not about your taste.”
“I’m here with you aren’t I?” I asked. “Or does that not count?”
“About that,” James began, “If Dom is likely to chop of all your hair or whatever for being here, why are you here?”
“Couldn’t think of an excuse quick enough? Anyway, considering I blew a hole in your bed – I figured you deserved it.”
“Your company you mean?” James asked with a smirk.
“Sure,” I agreed, leaning back and looking out at the other members of the pup. Now and then people would stop and do a double-take when they saw the two of us sat together, but considering we were just talking over butter beers none of them stared for too long. And it was nice. Really nice actually.
“Who else should be on my hit list then?” James asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Who else have you dated?”
“Oh, does it matter?” I asked. I rolled my eyes at his expression. “Well, apart from Sean Taylor, Robert Simpson, Martin Creevey and, gosh... third year – McLaggen, before he got popular.”
“All of whom are in the Summers and Belby league, especially McLaggen – popular or not.” I shrugged. The conversation came to a momentary awkward stop. I cringed internally. “Didn’t I ask you what you wanted to do after Hogwarts?” James asked, and the conversation continued.
It was half an hour later when I realised three things: 1) I still hadn’t told James Potter what I wanted to do after Hogwarts; 2) I’d talked about myself for nearly three hours and 3) this was probably the best date I’d ever been on, even though James Potter had been totally monk-like and hadn’t even appeared to think about making a move on me. Which made it sort of not a date. But it sort of was.
“You know James,” I said, “That prank I pulled on Benson is the first prank I’ve ever pulled that was nearly a hundred percent successful.”
I’d now told him all about my disastrous attempts at pranking and generally being unfunny, and given he was a bit of a genius in that department, he found the whole thing hilarious.
“Nearly a hundred percent successful?” He questioned.
“He was supposed to miss Dom, with the vomiting I mean.”
“It wasn’t bad for a novice; you’ll get there one day – with a little instruction.”
“From the master I suppose?”
“I prefer Captain, rather than master,”
“Right,” I laughed. “Do you want me to get down and kiss your feet too, O’ mighty captain?”
“Maybe another time,” He replied back instantaneously. I was shocking myself by really enjoying his company... this whole thing had been fun.
“So,” I said, finishing off my third butter beer, and facing James. “You’ve questioned me to death by now, and I understand your desire to get to the thirty points, but you’re well over now, and I’m sure you’re much more interesting than me. Tell me about yourself, Potter.”
“What’s there to know?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
“Okay, well... one thing you might like to know,” James said. “Is that I’m not exactly truthful.” I raised an eyebrow. “My brother wouldn’t give me the map back, because I said you had the cloak,”
“But you have the map and the cloak?”
“Al trusts a little too easily – always has,” James shrugged. “So I didn’t mention you’d returned the cloak – I needed it anyway, and he’d never lend it to me again, and I said that I’d get it back to him on Saturday,”
“Because you were going to take me out on a date to seduce it off me?” I questioned.
“I wouldn’t have had to,” James said. “But I’d already arranged to meet you, and he spends far too much time in the library, and he saw so...”
“Well, thing is, Autumn, my brother’s just walked into this very pub, and is now watching us very carefully.”
“Oh,” I said turning round casually to see Albus Potter’s green eyed stare directed straight at me. “Do you want me to act charmed or something?” I asked and James gave me a strange look.
“You’re okay with this?”
“Well, whatever,” I shrugged.
“I mean, I’m kind of using you?”
“It doesn’t matter,”
“Well it should,”
“Shouldn’t you be trying to seduce me or something? Or at least look as if you are?” He tossed this comment aside but shifted a little closer and looked at me seriously. Another two points for James Potter for attractiveness. Pwoah.
“So you’ve got a sister and a brother?” James said, “Unless I just made that up,”
“Tell me about them.” James implored. I raised my eyebrows slightly.
“Well, my sister – April, she’s twenty something, living abroad at the moment. She’s a historian, trying to fill in the gaps in wizarding history and digging up ancient artefacts and testing on them and stuff. Then there’s Oliver, and you probably know more about him than me,”
“You mean you don’t see them very much?” James asked seriously.
“Erm, not really, Oliver more, April came back the Christmas before last but I haven’t seen her since then.”
“That must be really hard for you,” James said, and I gave him a strange look before I realised at some point during this tiny portion of conversation he’d reached out and put his hand on my arm consolingly.
“Oh it’s simply awful!” I declared, knowing Albus was far away that he wouldn’t know I was taking the piss, “I mean,” I wailed, bringing a hand up to my face to wipe away an imaginary tear. “I miss them so much!”
“I understand!” James said back, holding my shoulder and nodding empathetically.
“You’re the only one who understands” I said, resting my head on his shoulder and taking in a deep breath for strength. “I am so sorry about this, James,” I said, putting a hand to my heart and sniffing gracefully. “Sometimes I just can’t control my feelings,”
“I know exactly how you feel,” James said.
“Is that why you have a diary?” I asked, and I could tell he was finding it very difficult to keep a straight face and Albus could see his face.
“Tom Riddle had a diary so...”
“You’re basing your masculinity of Voldemort?” I asked. “Every record of him highlights the fact he has a high pitched laugh.”
“Well, I doubt many people were thinking ‘jesh this guys feminine’ before he murdered them.”
There was a long second of awkwardness.
“I really feel like I can talk to you, James,” I said putting a hand to my heart, “And I just always feel like, like, like... I don’t fit in,” I declared before wiping away imaginary tears.
“I’m going to pretend I feel great empathy with you,” James returned nodding seriously. “But really I’m just trying to get into your pants,”
“Even though all evidence points to the fact that you don’t care about me, I’m convinced you’re in love with me.”
“I’m going to casually touch your leg,” James said, shifting a bit closer, his hand resting above my knee.
“I’m going to pretend not to notice and instead laugh at the really funny joke you just told.” I fake-laughed, leaning towards him and clutching his hand for support.
“I’m going to ask you if you want another drink,”
“I’m going to say that I wouldn’t mind another butterbeer, and offer to pay.”
“I’m going to refuse your money because this is a date,” James said, “And now I’m going to do this,” then he leaned forwards, and his face was so close to mine that to anyone else it would have looked like he’d kissed me, but instead he whispered “Thanks for this,” in my ear, and then he was gone and I felt strange.
I watched as he talked, with added mild flirting, to the waitress. James Potter had a nice arse, very nice actually. He had nice hair too. And a nice neck.
I looked away quickly.
I risked a glance at Albus Potter, who was resolutely staring in my direction as I watched James that was a good bonus of validity for the cause. The cause being letting James Potter get away with lying to his brother. Should I be consulting my moral compass as to whether I should be doing this? Probably. Did I want to? Not in the slightest.
“Here you go,” James said presenting me with another butterbeer. We’d had so many drinks by this point I’d probably have a bladder explosion, or actually start being effect by the alcoholic content of all this butter beer. “How am I doing?” I looked at him blankly, I still felt a bit funny about the whole whispering in my ear thing – my Claw brains had turned mushy, and were now much less substantial... I couldn’t deal with that. Unless I was calm and collected I acted like a complete dolt, and I’d been doing so well... “Points wise.”
“Impressively well, you’ve surpassed my standards by a couple of light years.”
“That probably just means you should higher your standards,” James said, looking at me a little too intently. The whole thing now had more of date feel, which was why I was beginning to think/act slightly more psychopathic. I really could not deal with stressful situations.
“What?” I asked. “To Dom’s twenty five?”
“If you want your dating habits to be like Dom’s, I’m sure that’s fine.” James said, “But if you’re interested in being a little less slutty,”
“All right Potter,” I said, “Say I say fifty – you’ve still already got there.” Way over – sixty. Which was practically record breaking, but Dom continued point counting through the next phases. The record was a fantastic 63 until Dom got bored and he got ‘disposed.’ AKA – he was dumped.
“One hundred.” James said determinedly.
“Impossible and unnecessary.” I countered.
“Well, you’re a classy lady,”
“I’m no lady.”
“See, that’s frustrating,” James said his forehead crumpling slightly.
“What’s frustrating?” I asked. I should have known that this was going a little too well. I was Autumn Pearce for goodness sake; of course James Potter wouldn’t really have asked me out... I was pretty much a nobody. He probably had only asked me to appease his brother...
“I’ve only just met you,” James said, “And I’m already noticing how much you put yourself down. Seriously,” He said, “I think you’re the one who doesn’t see.”I kept my lips shut. “You’re not even defending yourself,” James said, sounding slightly irritated. My bad. I glanced around, unsure of what I was supposed to say about the whole thing, when I accidently locked gaze with Albus Potter.
He was now at the bar, leaning slightly to the left to eavesdrop on our conversation.
“All right Potter, no need to get your flowered boxers in a twist, you can have the cloak back. You put up a good show.” James caught on quickly enough, but didn’t say anything as I pulled the cloak out my bag where I’d stashed it after the puddifoots-incident. James grinned convincingly, and was just reaching out to grab it when...
“I’ll take that,” Albus Potter said, folding the cloak neatly and then shoving it into his own bag.
“Naturally,” I said offering him a smile. “I had fun Potter,” I said, standing up “But I should probably make sure Dom hasn’t developed a brain tumour or something,” I smiled. He looked slightly unsure. “And if I drink anything else I’m going to turn into a butterbeer, but...”
I stopped for a long second. To act on impulse, or not to act on impulse? To use my brain and do the sensible properly thing, or do something stupid...
“But we should do this again sometime,” I said defiantly. Then I smiled, turned and left.
And, just like that, I left James Potter alone in the three broomsticks.
A/N - Reviews please :)
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