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Letters to L.C. by ScarletRoses
Chapter 6 : Mother Nature has a Crush
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 6


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Amazing chapter image by Camila of TDA! Perfect picture for Lenny, don't you think?

 




I was downright happy. Chipper. Ecstatic. Any other adjective you can think of for happy, that’s what I was. I couldn’t contain the smile that spread across my face and I wouldn’t even think of stopping it from growing into a dopy grin. People would look at me funny, but so what? I felt on top of the world. Why might you ask?

It was the first Quidditch game of the season. 

No, I’m not as obsessed with Quidditch as Potter is, but this was something I was actually good at. People looked up to me. People would actually be cheering for me. In this game, I wasn’t Loony Lenny, I was actually a player that received a few cheers in the stand. Sure, I didn’t get a Lenny cheering section like Black did, but people cheered when I made a save. That counted, right?

 

In Quidditch, I’m not a loser.

 

The clock read 6:30 am, but I didn’t care. The sun was out, so I should be out too. That’s my philosophy. I got ready in less than 30 minutes, having my Quidditch jumper wrapped securely around me. I smiled to myself, barely being able to hold in my squeal. Shove this up your arse, Teddy, Gryffindor is going to beat you again.

 

Teddy played for Ravenclaw and was a chaser. He took pride in telling me how he scored a goal on me two years ago. Ravenclaw was good, but thought the game was about smarts, which it’s not. No, it’s about…er…other stuff. Like just…flying. Yes. Quidditch was about flying.

 

That made sense to me.

 

I already had my Quidditch jumper on. Normally, you wore your practice jumper throughout the day, showing your team pride. Then, when it came to game time, most players gave their practice jumper to some other person to wear during the game (that was a weird tradition if you ask me. Who would want to wear a sweaty jumper?). That’s when you changed into your game jumper.

 

Girls jumped at the chance to wear a practice jersey from a Quidditch player. Sirius had girls lined up until the final game to wear his jumper, but Potter was another story. No one wanted to wear his jumper. Some girls were so pathetic that they didn’t realize until it was too late what was wrong with his practice jumper. He simply didn’t wash it. He thought it was good luck, since we haven’t lost a game since he stopped washing it.

 

You never wanted to fly by him during practice, that’s how horrid it smelt. Someone made the mistake of asking James to wear his jersey last year and smelt like sweaty Potter until the end of the school year.

 

My feet had a mind of their own as they skipped down to breakfast. One, two, jump! One, two, jump! It was a lot harder than it sounded, but I managed. Everything just felt brighter. The sleepy ghosts that floated past me seemed to have an extra glow to them and the candles floating in the Entrance Hall were brighter than ever. The Great Hall was completely empty, which didn’t damper my mood whatsoever.

 

As I went to sit down (ready to jump over the table, really) an owl beat me to my spot. Its large eyes looked up at me and hooted, obviously happy to have found its recipient. I groaned, feeling my mood sink away. The owl hopped on one leg, extending the leg that had a letter attached.

 

“I’m not taking that, so you can just stop.” I said, hoping this owl wasn’t as stubborn as the last. It tilted its large head to the side, hopping closer to me.

 

“No, I’m not taking it!” I repeated, but it still continued to hop. I lifted up my own leg, mocking it and started to hop around myself. “See how stupid you look?”

 

“Look who’s talking,” a voice said, making me slam my foot onto the ground. I turned, face red, to meet Teddy’s smiling face.

 

“Only people who are stupid know what a stupid person looks like,” I told him, sitting on the Gryffindor bench. Albeit Teddy is not a Gryffindor, he took the seat next to me anyways.

 

“I’m not stupid enough to not take a letter addressed to me.” Teddy commented, glancing at the letters “L.C” scrawled on the letter. He raised an eyebrow to me, but I sat perfectly still. Maybe neither the owl nor Teddy would think I was still alive and would leave me alone.

 

“Lenny, you’re breathing. I know you’re not dead,” this time, I held my breath. Maybe then…

 

I felt my lungs restricting and saw Teddy’s eyebrow shoot up to his hairline. It was a challenge. I never was able to hold my breath for long, I normally passed out before too long.

 

“Lenny, you’re going to pass out again,” Teddy warned me, digging in to the food that had just appeared in front of him. I wouldn’t lose this one, I could hold my breath.

 

But for how long was I supposed to hold it? Until Teddy was convinced I was dead? Would I have to die to do that, seeing as Teddy knew me like the back of his hand?

 

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs back up with air. Precious, precious air, oh how I missed you. I was beginning to see white specks and I doubt Potter would be happy if his keeper was in the hospital wing from passing out…from not breathing…on purpose.

 

“40 seconds, is that a new record?” Teddy asked jokingly, eyeing the owl who was still staring at me. “Take the blasted letter, Lenny.”











I huffed, but yanked the letter free of the owl’s leg. It hooted at me, before flying off, obviously upset with me for not taking the letter sooner.

 

L.C,

You’re funny, I like that. I’ve only gotten two letters from you and you haven’t told me much, but you seem familiar. I feel like I already know you, but I can’t put my finger on who you remind me of. Since you won’t tell me about you, I’ll tell you about myself (I’ll disregard that you said you don’t want to know about me, because who doesn’t?). I like dogs, but I hate cats. They creep me out, their nails that just dig into your skin and their ugly little faces. I like Quidditch, just not as much as James (my best mate, though I’m sure you knew that). There’s a big game today against Ravenclaw, but we’re going to kick their arses (no hard feelings to Teddy Crowley, a good mate and a Ravenclaw chaser)). Thunderstorms are amazing and I always go outside when one starts. I play pranks constantly, but that’s no news to you, I presume. Not hard, see?

Sirius Black

P.S I licked it. Not as good as I thought it’d be.

 

My heightened mood was immediately sunk. There’s nothing like a letter from Sirius Black to put me in a sour mood. Though I do admit, the loops me makes when he writes my initials do look pretty nice, that’s the only good thing about the letter.

 

“Lenny, I thought I told you to stop this letter nonsense,” Teddy whispered next to me. I tossed him the letter and let him scan it over, noting that I was doing nothing wrong. Why is it always me who does something wrong in dear ol’ Teddy’s eyes?

 

“We’re twins. I thought you’d have more trust in me, but no. The nargles are eating at your brain, Teddy and I just don’t know what to do with you nowadays.” I rambled, watching his eyes scan the paper.

 

“I’ll kill him if he thinks he’s getting anywhere near you.” Teddy growled. Ah, gotta love Teddy Crowley, overly protective who thinks he’s my big brother. Well…in all technicalities he is. He popped out first, only two minutes ahead of me, but it’s a feat he will never let me forget.

 

“He’s by me every day, Teddy. We are in the same house and all.” I said, barely aware of Teddy’s scoff at my comment.

 

“Lenora, don’t push my buttons today.” Teddy growled, the parchment crumbling slightly in his hands. I yanked it away, tucking it deep into my pocket. He glared at my movement, so I shoved my tongue out of my mouth at him (note that I didn’t say stuck my tongue out at him, that just sounds ridiculous).

 

“You’re just in a sour mood because you can’t get the quaffle past me and won’t today either,” I said, smirking as I took a bite of the toast that appeared in front of me.

 

“We’ve been up since five “warming up”. My arm is so loose that the quaffle will be flying past you so fast, you won’t even see it,” Teddy smirked at me before placing his head on the table. I smirked, putting a few pieces of bacon in my mouth and patting him on the back.

 

“Don’t take it to heart when you lose, mate.” I told him, but with the bacon in my mouth, it sounded more like “Dfft fakiff fer tert fen fo fooze!”

 

And I sprayed the back of his head with bacon pieces. He didn’t lift his head up, so I assumed he was unaware of the bacon pieces in his hair. I smirked to myself. Or maybe he was dead.

 

I prodded his side for good measure. No movement. What would Mum say if she found out Teddy died while I was sitting right next to him? People would think I offed him or something along those lines. His fan girls would kill me next. I grabbed his empty plate and smashed it over his head.

 

H let out a defining yelp, jumping off of his seat. I couldn’t explain the joy that overcame me when I saw his eyes full of life. Life that was looking like it was going to threaten mine. I smiled and jumped up to hug him.

 

“You’re alive!” I screamed, grabbing him around the middle, ignoring the many swear words coming from his mouth.

 

“If I have a concussion, so help me, Lenny-“ he started, pushing me away from him.

 

“Good idea, Crowley! Take out your brother before the game. No one would have seen that one coming,” Potter’s cheerful voice came. He let out a barking laugh, before sitting down and piling his face.

 

“We’re rescheduling if I can’t play, Potter,” Teddy grumbled, walking away from the table. James watched him walk away, chewing his pancakes with his mouth wide open.

 

“He’s not serious, is he? We would never reschedule,” Potter said with a scoff. Soon, the whole team was around us. On every game day, we were instructed to sit together to make us look more like a “team”. I personally thought it was for our safety, since teams always tried to off each other the morning of game day.

 

Slytherin was infamous for that. Alice had been cornered last year on the way down to breakfast by the Slytherins and had played a whole game with a broken rib and didn’t bother to tell us. Well, I personally think she told us, but her quiet voice was ignored by the rest of the team. It usually was.

 

Alice slunk into the seat next to me, sending me a small smile. I almost returned it, before feeling the weight of the letter in my pocket as I shifted. Bloody Black. Bloody Black ruining my chipper morning. Bloody him making Teddy so tired because he just had to read through the letter. Bloody Black and him making me think Teddy was dead out of shock. Bloody Black if we have to post-pone the game because Teddy has a concussion.


I looked towards Black who had a wide grin on his face. Bloody Black and his bloody grinning. I narrowed my eyes on him. He should just be blamed for all that is going wrong in the wizarding world. Hell, I’d blame him for all that is going wrong in the muggle world too.

 

“Mother Nature, I can melt your core.”

 

I nearly threw up. Black would be the reason for global warming. He probably shagged Mother Nature into making it warmer so he could take off his shirt more. Mother Nature, being a little bit on the easy side, granted his wish because she wanted to see him shirtless too.

 

“Bloody keep your shirt on or you’ll cause global warming, Black!” I hissed from my seat. Multiple confused eyes turned towards me, but I glowered at my plate. Bloody shirtless sod.

 

“Are you calling him hot, Crowley?” Remus asked, a small smirk at the corners of his lips. My face went red immediately. Did none of them see my logic?

 

“No! Mother Nature is a horny little bitch and shagged Black. Now she wants to keep it hot outside so that Black keeps his shirt off for her!” I explained, all the while sending Black glares. I felt the letter in my pocket and narrowed my eyes harder.

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

“Alright…well…can someone pass me the eggs?” Black asked. This was followed by consecutive growns from everyone around.

 

“Really? Before a match, Padfoot?” Potter asked, throwing his arms in the air in frustration.

 

“I could have dealt with hearing that after I had eaten.”

 

“Who was it?”











“You’re a pig, you know that?”

 

“Really-who was it?”

 

“That’s in the rules! No shagging before a match!”

 

For all that are confused, let me explain. The Marauders have this weird thing going on. It started back in fifth year when they began to realize they had Merlin-given looks. Rather than gossiping like third year girls about shagging some girl, they made a code. Sadly, it’s not a code anymore since most of the Gryffindor tower knows what it means. The code is “pass the eggs”.


Why is James mad, might you ask? Because he made a rule that you couldn’t shag someone before a match. Made you “off your game” or something like that. Personally, I found the whole thing repulsing. My stomach churned as I looked down at my plate. I pushed it away.

 

“Great, now I can’t eat.” I mumbled.

 

“Good, you were looking pudgy.” I heard Black say but I ignored his comment. My day had just gone from fantastic, to worse. And it was a Quidditch Match day.

 

The pitch smelt like…well…Quidditch. I can’t describe Quidditch to you, but it smells amazing. Like freshly mowed grass, along with the smell of oak and just a hint of sweat. Doesn’t sound like a good mix, but when stirred properly, you get Quidditch. Mmmm Quidditch.

 

My sour mood carried all the way down to the pitch. Bloody Black. He just has to ruin every part of my day. If my day isn’t in a crumble heap at my feet by noon, he isn’t satisfied. I muttered obscenities the whole time while changing into my game jumper. They were crimson, with gold trimming. Teddy had bought me matching gloves the year previous. The number four was etched into the back, with CROWLEY in large printed letters above that. It was mine. More importantly, it was not Blacks.

 

Put that in your juice box and suck it.

 

The crowd was roaring. There was a sea of red and a sea of blue all throughout the stadium. I heard boos and chants all mixed together. I couldn’t pinpoint where all the sound was even coming from. Potter turned to us, nodding for all of us to take our positions. Mine was the furthest fly, but it gave me an opportunity to break into the system.

 

There’s no feeling greater than flying on a broom. Imagine if you jumped out of a window and were just free-falling. Take that feeling (Before you hit the ground, obviously) and mix it with wind whipping through your hair. Mix it with complete serenity. Then you have all of this. Plus the smell of Quidditch.

 

Yum.

 

I barely realized the quaffle was released. Potter had it and was heading off to the other end of the pitch. I had to shake my head to keep it from going into Lennyland a fair few times, but I managed. Potter had told me if I miss one because I’m not paying attention, I get twenty laps. TWENTY! How was that even normal?

 

I caught the quaffle (a really small third year had shot it straight at me, how dumb?) and prepared to wind back to throw it to a waiting Alice when I felt a sharp pain in my back and heard the audible gasp of the crowd.

 

“Oh that had to have hurt!” I heard the commentary of Wesley Jordan, a Hufflepuff sixth year. I cringed, but passed the quaffle to Alice, a little less power in my throw.

 

Suddenly, I saw another bludger headed straight at my face. I dove just in time, flipping off the Ravenclaw beaters.

 

“It looks like they are gunning for Crowley today, mates!” Wesley shouted. I watched as both of the Ravenclaw beaters narrowed their eyes on me. Oh this would be a fantastic game.

 

Please note my sarcasm.

 

Author's Note: 

So yes, this one took a little longer to get up, but work has been killing me. Excuses, excuses, I know.
Let me know what you guys think of the story! Huge shout out to those who are reading (if there are really any of you doing that).


THe next chapter will be epic, I promise. THis one was pretty boring, I can admit that myself. Er... Review and stuff like that? Give me ideas and such? Thanks!
 
 
 


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