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A Tragedy by FWHPObsessed
Chapter 7 : Sarcasm is Good for the Soul
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 0


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 Sarcasm is Good for the Soul:

“And zen 'e said: 'Don't worry you won't 'ave to feel zis way forever!'” she exclaimed, her nearly-screaming causing a great disturbance amongst the rest of the students who had taken to sunbathing before the last of the Summer sun disappeared. “Not listening to any word I said, of course. Can you believe 'im? 'E eez such a prick!”

I was listening to Désirée rant about Lysander Scamander and his pitiful attempt at winning her heart during breakfast. It was undoubtedly boring, but a great thing to listen to whilst sunbathing. The thing I had learned about Désirée was that once she started talking, there was almost no chance of getting a word in, as the sound of her own voice seemed to be like music to her ears. Also, the fact that we were lying on the grass, wearing designer sunglasses and skimpy shorts, meant that we weren't facing each other and there was no demand to look as though I was actually paying attention to her words.

“… and zen 'e just walk off! Leaving me sitting zere without anybody beside me!” she exclaimed, pausing for a second to sit up, covering my face with shadow. “Zat Lysander! 'E is a boy you should be avoiding, I tell you… Fred though… 'e eez a different story.”

“What?!” I screeched, flinging myself up and looking at the two figures walking by the lake. I flung off my sunglasses to look at them closer. Freddie seemed to hear my yell as he looked over, grinned, then said something to the guy beside him, who turned and revealed himself as the very James I had seen earlier that day. “You are kidding me, right?”

“No, 'ave you seen him?” she said, lowering her voice to a natural inside voice. “Who wouldn't be attracted to zat?”

I gulped, trying not to think about how I had been attracted to 'zat', before I had moved straight onto his cousin.

“I just didn't think Freddie was your type,” I commented, watching the pair change their course and start towards our spot under near the tree.

“Of course 'e eez!” she exclaimed, I could hear the smile in her voice as she watched them approach. “Funny guy like him. Who wouldn't be falling at 'is feet?”

It was exactly that. Who?

“Quick, pretend we've been talking about something else!” I said, realising how suspicious we must have looked.

Désirée just laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder, causing it to flick my arm.

“You need to be less paranoid, love,” she commented, with a delicate smile enhancing her perfect Veela features. “'Ello, boys.”

The way she said it; the casual flick of the eyelashes and even more accentuated French accent than before, along with the simple lean in her stance and the position of her toned legs, made it seem like she was trying to get all of their attention. And if I was being honest here, I didn't like it.

It almost seemed like a trigger in the back of my head and my suddenly my eyes were turning in to slits aimed at the girl beside me. My fingernails dug into the dry, cracked ground and my teeth seemed to clench all by themselves. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck sticking up, along with the ones on my arm. It felt like a strange sort of defence mechanism towards her. Or some sort of protective nature over Fred. I didn't know Désirée as well as I liked to think. She was a new girl I had let straight into my life, a Slytherin and I would never know if she was just gripping onto Fred for a bit of fun or if she wanted a real relationship.

The second it took for me to snap, I snapped back. Feeling ashamed at the protective thoughts that had raced through my head. Désirée was my friend, she would never do that to someone who was like a brother to me.

“Hello ladies,” said Freddie formally, but with an attractive smirk on his tanned face.

I smiled at him, before looking at James. He had changed his top and was now clad in a perfectly fitted, white t-shirt with the words 'It Could be Worse. I Could be a Slytherin.' flashing red and gold.

“'Ow are you?” asked Désirée politely. She was so formal and nice, I never asked things like that, I was generally a rude person without meaning to be.

“I'm swell, actually,” said Freddie, oblivious to James and I rolling our eyes at his stupidity. Honestly, what sane person says words like, 'swell'? “But I was wondering if I could talk to you?”

Subtly Désirée glanced at me, her eyes glowing with happiness, before taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her up effortlessly.

“Sure.”

They took off rather quickly, both of them positively quirky. I watched them for a second, (they walked rather awkwardly, almost a foot away from each other) before looking up at James to find his eyes on me. His hands were casually in his pockets, his eyes questioning some unknown notion. There was a jolt in my stomach as he smiled to himself.

“Is Freddie asking her to Hogsmeade?” I asked, looking back to the pair as they strolled towards the lake.

“I have no idea,” he said, taking a seat in the place where Désirée sat previously. “It's a bit early to ask, isn't it?”

“You asked me today,” I said, watching his reaction to my words.

He looked straight into my eyes and smiled. “So I did.”

Holding his gaze for a second, I attempted to read his expression. I couldn't, so I turned to watch the pair. Near the castle I spotted an angry blonde figure watching Freddie and Désirée talk. He kicked at the ground angrily, before turning and walking away.

“Poor Lysander.” I commented.

“Yeah,” James mumbled, after turning to look at his retreating figure. “He kind of deserves it though.”

“I thought you guys were close?” I asked, a little offended he could think someone deserved to watch someone else with the girl they like/love (depending on how delusional the boy was).

“Yeah, we were,” he sighed, speaking as though he had explained this to me a million times. “Lysander, Fred, Louis and I, but we just sort of grew apart.”

I could remember when they were like that, some said they were the next generation of Marauders, but during the interval between fourth-year and fifth-year they seemed to split up. The Ravenclaw's and the Gryffindor's, it was rumoured that it was because of house rivalry.

“What happened?” I said, crossing my legs as my palms were getting sore supporting half my body weight.

“Lysander wasn't always like he is now.”

“In other words, a man-whore?”

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself, but James didn't seem offended, in fact he laughed, pushing his hair off his forehead as he did so.

“Yeah. It was in the Summer holidays before fifth-year and he started a relationship with Molly.” My mouth popped open at this information. There seemed to be so many things I didn't know about the people around me. Molly and Harper being the biggest blank spots of them all. “It was after his relationship with Anna where she broke his heart after he told her he loved her and got herself shunned out of society and we were all kind of glad he was over her… until we found out he was with Rose at the same time…”

“Wow…” I said, letting my mouth hang open a little, but not so much my gold tooth at the back of my mouth was visible. Yes, I have a gold tooth, you can blame Freddie later.

“I know. Molly didn't mind much, I mean I think she was just having a little fun, a sort of Summer fling if you know what I mean…” The way he said it made me think there was a 'but' coming on, and sure enough, “… but Rose didn't handle it well – blew up in his face, actually – and she dragged me and Freddie into it and it was over.” James sighed, throwing his head back to look up at the bright sky. “Now he just treats girls like pieces of meat and I can't put up with that.”

“You're a good guy,” I said, stretching my legs out to absorb more UV rays. “You stand up for the people in your family.”

There was a sour laugh from my left and I tried not to be surprised. “What about you and Tallia?” he asked, his tone light.

Immediately my heart sunk a little and bile rose to the back of my throat. We hadn't spoken since she made a snide comment at the feast and I was determined to maintain that silence. I wouldn't talk to her until she spoke to me and she wouldn't speak to me until I spoke to her. All in all it was a good truce.

“Are you talking about our deep, meaningful friendship, or the fact we're lesbians together?” I said, sarcastically.

He didn't laugh, but it was OK because I wouldn't have either. “No, I'm serious.”

“So am I,” I pressed on.

He sighed. “OK, I get it. You don't want to talk about it.”

“What makes you say that? I'm talking about it now. Do you have something against lesbians?” I asked, raising a brow.

“What's with the sarcasm, Rette?” he sighed, looking out past me and possibly towards Freddie and Désirée.

“It helps keep you from telling people what you really think of them.” I said looking straight at him, a touch of vulnerability in my voice at the words. It was like I shared a little part of me with him. Like I let the thoughts I had never acknowledged come out in his presence. It annoyed the hell out of me.

“And what do you think of me?” he asked softly, turning and locking my blue eyes in his gaze. I froze, feeling a strong desire to tell him the truth, so I did.

“You're calm, you're a nice guy, but you're a complete arse when you want to be. You're smart and witty in arguments. You're a know-it-all, but you never complain about a thing. You're extremely close to your family and you love them, even when you act like you don't. You've been through a lot, but you question everything and you don't accept things easily. If someone were to fall in love with you you'd never believe it until you were married, or it was too late.”

Silence. Long, uninterrupted silence where our eyes remained locked. Blue water mixing with brown fire and exploding with tension or passion or maybe just pure awkwardness. It was thick and raw and made you want to bite your lip with the pleasure that came with it. It was sexual tension like no other. I had just admitted things I never wanted to admit, and I loved it.

His eyes ripped away and the moment was over.

“That wasn't sarcasm was it?”

There was something in his voice. Rich emotion of some sort. I couldn't place it.

“No, it wasn't.”

“It wasn't a compliment either, was it?” he said. The strange tone still there.

“No, James.” I said quietly. “It was the truth.”

“Oh.” he said simply, continuing to stare out at the lake.

There was a long silence after that. Not an uncomfortable one, but not a soothing one either. It was almost like we were both waiting for the other to speak. There was distant laughter from our left and Désirée and Fred had stopped walking at the other side of the lake. It took all the strength in me to not become fidgety and stay in my position, but eventually I gave in and I lay back down on the grass, brushing my hand on his arm accidentally and creating invisible sparks of electricity in the air. I knew it had something to do with my little spit of word-vomit, because earlier in the day I had held his arm and nothing of the sort had happened.

“What were you doing in the guy's bathroom that night?” James suddenly asked, moving his body so he was leaning on one side and could watch me.

“Huh?” I said, unable to think of what he was talking about.

“On the night of the the Feast.” he continued, looking out past me and towards the Forbidden Forest. “You fell out of the guy's bathroom and we somehow ended up looking like we were snogging.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, catching on. “I walked in there accidentally and then I had to hide because you're brother came in.”

“Right…” he said, his tone suggesting he didn't believe me.

I was about to accuse him of doing so when a shout behind us stole my concentration. It was Elliot, calling James for some reason, looking excited and giddy. Grinning from ear to ear.

“James you have to come see this!” he shouted, after recognising that we had acknowledged him.

“Well, I guess I should go,” he said, turning back to me before pulling himself up. “It was a nice chat.”

I nodded, not at all agreeing. “Bye James.”

 

*

 

The next few days passed by quickly. James and I didn't talk much, but every now and then I would catch his eye and look away awkwardly. He didn't complain and apart from the casual class together we generally avoided each other. After my little word vomit episode I was knocked back to my senses and I realised how stupid I had been to tell James my perception of him. Basically I had said: “This is what I think of you and yes, I'm such a stalker I know the inner workings of your mind.” That's how much of a typical genius I was. I had scared him off for life.

Freddie and Désirée couldn't seem to shut up about the other. Every time I was alone with one of them it was the only topic on their lips. I had gone so far as to throw Freddie's Standard Book of Spells: Grade Seven into the lake.

He didn't notice.

On the negative, Professor Longbottom did and now I owed Fred a new book.

Classes had started strictly on Monday, our teachers as lenient as ever, making sure anyone who was more than five minutes late received a detention so we would all know there would be no pushing boundaries now that we were seventh-years. To add to that each and every teacher seemed to be lecturing us on the importance of our NEWTs, then going through the basics of everything we learnt the year before and giving us long essays to write in no amount of time at all.

Potions had officially switched from my favourite subject to my least as Professor Swede seemed to think Freddie, James and I had spoken out in the Welcoming feast just to personally offend him. In fact when Freddie muttered a quick question to me while Swede was talking, he took twenty points off Gryffindor and made the entire class stand up so he could create new seats for us all. What made the class even worse was that Swede was a relatively new teacher from Durmstrang and had only been at Hogwarts for a couple of years and I had never had him before (most likely due to the fact the population in Hogwarts was increasing so rapidly we need two teachers for most of our subjects), meaning he would most likely never get to see my talent at the subject, because he was already scaring me out of taking notes, let alone making a potion.

Charms was coming along much better than anticipated. My exams had come out with extremely high scores which were surprising and I had been informed I was now considered top of the class. For this, our Charms teacher Professor Chang would often be found smiling at me for no apparent reason and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw could almost be considered transparent.

As for Defence Against the Dark Arts it was becoming a nightmare. Along with the fact we had a new teacher and everyone was generally curious at how he took the subject, we all walked in on Monday third period, expecting a balding old man with no interest in the subject and found instead Professor Lupin, who until that second I had completely forgotten existed. Never before have I seen such a rush to get to the front seats in the class. It was merely ridiculous. Not to say I didn't take part, I was just rather disappointed when Louis pulled me into the fourth row and I didn't get the fantastic view.

Needless to say the lessons were complete shambles. The girls in the front two rows giggled at everything Professor Lupin said even when it came to subjects such as Dementor's and Inferi. Lupin was becoming so incredibly frustrated with the class that by the end of each lesson his hair seemed to have a grey tinge that should certainly not be occurring in a man still filled with such youth.

Transfiguration was becoming a delightful subject. Professor Kirke, while a tall and almost intimidating looking man he had a smile that seemed to warm you from the inside out. He clearly enjoyed his subject far more than any teacher I had ever come across and he would be smiling with his eyes twinkling while describing the theory of Transfiguration. He had yet to teach us any spells as he had no idea of our abilities and was sticking with the basics for now, but there was no doubt his happy mood made the class so much more enjoyable.

Astronomy was the same as ever. Professor Sinistra still droned on in her mystical voice about the beauty in the sky, explaining it all in every way possible except the way I saw it. They were stars in the sky and they were beautiful. James and I were the only Gryffindor's in the class and therefore I forced myself on him as I didn't particularly like the idea of sticking myself in with the giggly Slytherin girls or the Ravenclaw's, especially when Lysander was amongst them.

Muggle Studies was extremely interesting as the mixture of Freddie, Liz, Elliot and I clashed constantly as Elizabeth was particularly aggravated that she had placed herself with Freddie and Elliot, two Gryffindor's who were on the Quidditch team and (upon discovering I was trying out) would be in a huff the whole period. Despite that series of unfortunate events, Professor Cauldwell was delightfully happy as he had come back from a long Summer holiday in the Caribbean and had acquired for himself a tan to rival Freddie's.

History of Magic was of course as boring as ever, but I (somewhat stubbornly) put up with it as I seemed to have a great longing for History and I liked knowing things from the past. The longing was strongest, however, when the topic of Harry Potter and the Second Wizarding War was discussed, though you had to admit, Professor Binns certainly knew how to make even that topic sound boring.

It was the Thursday of the first week of term after lunch and I was walking with Louis from the kitchens where he had forced me to eat with him, because he didn't want enter the Great hall strangely enough. We were halfway across the Entrance hall, heading towards our long classes of double Potions which was undoubtedly theory-only, when there was a shout behind me.

“Rette!” came a voice with a Californian accent. It was Dare, half-skipping half-running down the stairs towards us, beaming pleasantly. Louis immediately tensed. I stopped and waited for her to reach us, noticing as I did so the absence of her book bag.

“Rette, you're skipping Potions.” she commented when she reached us, taking my wrist and making to drag me along.

“Why?” I asked, letting her pull me a couple of steps before standing my ground.

“Because we're having a –” Dare's eyes flicked to Louis and she lowered her voice so I had to lip-read her next words. “– girl afternoon.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, backing up a little. “I don't do those.”

“You do now.”

“Oh come on, Dare,” I pleaded, knowing my strong-will (I know I have none, but one can dream) would crumble with the force of her stubbornness. “Do I have to miss class to do this? Why couldn't you have just done it at night? Or on the weekend?”

Because it's happening today and it's happening now.” she said forcefully. “Plus you have detention at seven, so it couldn't happen any later.”

“Exactly why you should've done it at that time.” I protested, backing up a little more as her grip on my arm loosened while she rolled her eyes.

“Amorette Estelle LeMaine, if I have to force you up to Rawr, I will!”

“Rawr?”

I took Louis' quiet question as an opportunity and leaped behind the boy, cowering behind his torso. Something about his posture told me he didn't appreciate being used as a human shield.

“Quick! Save me, Louis!” I almost yelled.

The students walking past stared at me like I was a lunatic and Louis did something extremely unexpected. He picked me up by my shoulders and placed me in front of him as a peace offering. I'm pretty sure my jaw was collecting dirt of the ground. Dare gave him a goofy smile, before giving me the evils.

“Here. You can have her, she's all yours. Please when you return her make sure she's unharmed and happy enough to laugh at the memory of Freddie shaving her hair off.”

That was not funny.

“What?!” I breathed shell-shocked, as Dare took my arm in her hand once again.

“Of course, she'll be in perfect condition.” she nodded, like she was borrowing a broom not a person with feelings and blood that usually circulates through her right arm. “You don't need to worry.”

“If I don't come back alive, I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity!” I spat at Louis. He had just done the ultimate betrayal.

“Great then, I'll see you when you're ready to give her back.”

They both nodded to each other then promptly turned on their heels and began to walk in opposite directions. Dare unceremoniously pulling my arm (if it hadn't fallen off already, I wouldn't have felt the difference) with her. I stumbled up the stairs for a bit before righting myself and attempting to walk like a normal person.

“You do know most arms require blood circulation to work, right?” I pulled out a slice from my sarcasm cake. It tasted rather good and left you with a satisfactory feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh – right – sorry.” Dare let go of my arm and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“So, um. I just have one question.” I said as she gave me a try-to-escape-and-I'll-kick-your-arse look. “What's Rawr?”

“The Room of Requirement of course!” Dare trilled, continuing on with a newly acquired skip in her step. “R-O-R – RoR – Rawr!”

“Oh riiight,” I said, trying to pretend it wasn't one of the craziest things I'd heard in a month.

Which, to be honest, it wasn't. Hello? I associated myself with Fred Weasley, the boy who blackmailed me into doing his Transfiguration and Charms homework when he doesn't even take the classes (and he still hasn't realised).

“So what does this 'girly afternoon' consist of exactly?” I said, even going as far as quotation marks in the air. Dare rolled her eyes.

“Chatting, gossiping, the usual stuff.” she shrugged. “It's just going to be you, me and Désirée and I have no idea what she's got in mind. It was her idea after all and I think she mentioned something about hair.”

“Hair?”

“Hair.”

“Hair?” said a random sixth-year with a silly smirk, who obviously thought he was being extremely funny.

I smiled at him, while Dare snapped at him to shut up.

“Anyway, you'll have to ask her, I haven't done anything like this in a long time.” said Dare.

Finally!” said Désirée as we rounded a corner. She was standing next to a fancy- looking oak door and the scowl on her face told us she was not happy. “I've been waiting for like aages.” Her tone quickly softened. “Come in quickly, you have to see what I've done to the place!”

She bounded forward enthusiastically, paying barely any attention to her feet therefore tripping over a raised brick in the floor. She fell face-first into the door, saving her face with her hands, but squishing her body up against the wood.

It was such a ridiculous sight that Dare and I couldn't help but laugh at her misfortune. She pulled herself up and scowled at us, before examining her robes, seeing she was OK and letting herself smile at our laughter.

She let herself in and we followed, letting our laughter die down, but our smiles remain.

Dare may have mentioned something which therefore made Désirée start up a conversation with her, but I didn't exactly hear and all I knew was that Désirée was going into a huge discussion about something. I was too busy taking in my surroundings to notice.

The first thing you saw when you entered was a huge wall to your left almost entirely made of mirror. Built off the wall was a stylish, modern bench laden with countless potions and sprays and containers filled with bright eye shadows. Situated in front of it were three of those Muggle chairs with the wheels at the bottom and a stalk thing that makes it spin.

On the wall across from the door there was a window, which I found odd because the Room of Requirement was in the middle of the castle. It showed a view I had never seen before, one that made you think you were watching from a mountain. There were trees beyond trees which fell down, disappearing from view and transforming into a beach and then the gorgeous blue sea. It was breathtaking.

The rest of the room was a cosy little place with three large, brown couches surrounding a white fireplace filled with those silver flames that are cold not warm. There was a basket of numerous nail polishes in an abundance of different colours and a small pile of magazines on a cream rug in the middle of it all.

I smiled and threw myself on the couch, perhaps a little apprehensive at the mirrors and the piles of potions and such.

“So, how do you guys actually know each other?” I interrupted, feeling a little left out considering they were chatting like best friends and I didn't even know they had met.

“It must 'ave been through Lysander, I guess…” said Désirée, rolling her deep blue eyes and throwing herself on the couch opposite mine.

“He was harassing her and I saved her,” nodded Dare, taking the other couch as we had stretched over ours.

“Yes, and zen we got talking and I realised zis was ze American girl I met at ze Potter's…”

“And I realised Désirée was your second cousin that I met at James' house…” Dare continued.

“And zen Dare suggested we ambush you…” said Désirée nonchalantly, as I widened my eyes at the girl accusingly.

“But Des came up with this instead.”

“So we went with my idea…”

“… as we decided mine was a bit rash.”

“And 'ere we are!” finished Désirée with a flourish.

I laughed at the pair of them and they smiled at me with bright eyes. It suddenly dawned on me that here I was in the Room of Requirement sitting with two of the most gorgeous girls in the school laughing with them. We were the outcast's. Dare was the pretty girl with the overprotective best friend who wouldn't let any guy near her, Désirée was the beauty in a house with no one she liked and I was the girl next door who's closest girl friend hated her and made the mistake of coming onto her best guy friend.

Désirée turned out to have a whole day planned and not enough time to do it all. The view from the window was in fact what you saw when you looked the front door of Beuxbatons and the potions by the mirror were for a makeover she was planning to do on us both. Désirée and I were sitting on the couch against the wall choosing a nail polish that would suit my pale skin when Dare who was flicking through an old issue of Witch Weekly broke the unnoticed silence.

“Ooh, I've got a quiz for you guys to do!” she said happily, crossing her legs and looking up at us expectantly.

“That one.” I said, pointing at a pale yellow, before looking down at Dare who was grinning mischievously. “What is it?”

“Who is your ideal guy?”

No thank you.” I said, turning away, in no mood to do anything like that.

Re-ette don't spoil it for me!” she whined, sounding like an American version of my sister. “Des is doing it aren't you?”

“Sure,” she said, pulling my hand so she could begin to paint it.

“See, now you have to!”

“Fine.” I gave up, sighing. “Go ahead.”

“OK,” said Dare happily, turning back to her magazine. “The first thing you notice in a guy is: a) his smile; b) his body; c) the way he talks; or d) his eyes?”

“Definitely 'is body,” said Désirée without looking away from my hand.

“Umm, c.”

“The way he talks?” asked Dare, a quizzical expression on her face. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, you can tell a heap about a person by the way they talk!” I said defensively. “Like if they say their words really long then they're usually a bit shallow or on the dimmer side, if you know what I mean. And the rather annoying people speak really loud.”

“I talk really loud,” said Dare sadly.

“And I speak slow when I'm using English,” said Désirée, a dent in her forehead, looking a little confused as to if that meant she was shallow in England, but not in France.

“Oh, that's not what I mean!” I conjure up as a quick attempt at pulling back what I had just said. “That's just my answer, look can we – next question.”

It seemed like Dare wasn't that affected about my words as she quickly brightened up at the thought of the next question. “OK. Your ideal date would be: a) a home-made meal; b) something you would never expect; c) walk on the beach or picnic; or d) dinner and a Muggle movie?”

“A 'ome-made meal,” Désirée nodded, “lets you know zey put the effort in, even if zey can't cook.” She smiled at some long lost memory.

“Looks like you have experience with that sort of thing,” said Dare, smiling at the look of happiness on Désirée's face.

“Yeah,” she said, beaming sheepishly with her eyes glazed over, staring off into the distance. “I 'ave.” Suddenly, she shook herself out of it. “What about you, Rette?”

I thought for a second. “Something you'd never expect,” I concluded. “Something spontaneous.”

Dare nodded understandingly and circled my answer with her quill. “What is the first thing you look for in a guy? a) a good personality/compatibility; b) a sense of fun; c) a sense of humour; or what they look like?”

“A sense of fun,” I said, taking the safe option.

“Sense of 'umour,” said Désirée without a blink. I smiled, thinking of Freddie and how she was probably thinking of him too. They really would be great together.

“OK. Four; what does your man look like? a) it doesn't matter as long as we're compatible; b) drop dead gorgeous. A pretty boy; c) really fit. One of the hottest guys in the school; or d) rugged, sexy and tall?”

“Fit.” said Désirée simply, starting on the second hand.

I paused, not exactly sure. I wasn't particularly picky, but looks did matter. I had to think he was attractive, even if no one else did, I could never like a guy who was repulsive in my eyes. Rugged, sexy and tall did sound appealing, but I thought of my only real relationship. Reid. Definitely a pretty boy.

“Um,” I say, biting my lip. “Rugged, sexy and tall!”

“Right. If your –” Dare started.

“Dare, you 'aven't even told us what you would choose.” Désirée finally looked up at the girl questioningly.

“Oh, right – um… pretty boy I guess,” she said nervously. Like one of us would suddenly burst out that it was the wrong answer. “Anyway! Number five; if your boy excelled in one type of skill what would it be? a) athletic skill; b) musical skill; c) intuition; or d) interacting skills? I guess that's like talking to people and stuff … then … I guess I’d choose d.”

“Same,” said Désirée, pausing to dip the brush into the nail polish.

“Er, musical skills.” I said, thinking up a random answer as I was quickly getting sick of this quiz.

“An ideal present for Valentine's day would be… a) a home cooked meal filled with candles, slow music and mush; b) a romantic gesture in front of everyone; c) chocolates and a handmade card; or d) an exhilarating date?” A dazed look came on Dare's face as she looked up at us. “What would you guys choose?”

“The exhilarating date one,” I said, imagining a faceless guy sweeping me off my feet and taking me mountain climbing or something as absolutely terrifying as that would be.

“A romantic gesture in front of everyone.” said Désirée like it'd be the most romantic thing to have everyone swoon over a lucky girl with a brave boyfriend. Which is not something that appeals to me. “Or ze 'ome cooked meal, I guess.” She did that strange gazing off into space thing like last time.

I coughed, nodding to my half-painted nail.

“Oh, right… the romantic gesture.”

“Yeah…” said Dare thoughtfully. “Anyway, last question!” She probably noticed my impatience with this whole thing. “If your ideal guy was your boyfriend, you would like him to… a) act like he's a friend who hugs you and kisses you; b) shower you with affection 24/7; c) walk you to classes and sit with you in them and only be apart when he has Quidditch practise; or d) gives you time with friends apart from when he's taking you on a date or catching up for a snog?”

Both Désirée and I wrinkled our noses at the last one.

“C.” we all say at the same time, then laugh.

“OK, Rette you got … Tall, Dark and Handsome.” says Dare as Désirée stops painting my nails and turns to pay proper attention. “Your ideal guy is tall, dark and handsome. He's mysterious and a typical bad boy. When in love he will do everything to keep his girl around him and will stand up for you in any situation. He'll easily put you in front of him. Tall, dark and handsome enjoys the chase and will do all he can to get a girl, but has no problem with letting go once they're caught. If he falls, he falls hard and fast, but while he's easy to fall in love with, it's not easy for him to fall in love too.”

“Great,” I say, once she's finished. “My ideal guy's a jerk.”

Dare rolls her eyes. “You are so dramatic. Désirée your ideal guy is… the joker…”

Désirée rolls her eyes too before beaming at her answer (we can all tell she's thinking about Fred) and I tune out of their conversation, not caring or interested and no longer in the mood.

 




Disclaimer: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, but to JK.

Author's Note: It's been a long time, yes, but I've found myself working on my other WIP'S more than this one. I don't have much to say except that I hope you enjoy my story and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!?!! It would mean so much to me if you did :D


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A Tragedy: Sarcasm is Good for the Soul

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