Breathtaking chapter image by AstoriaViana @ TDA
“Why so down, Cece?” Rose asked me in the morning.
“I have Care of magical creatures,” I groaned.
“But that’s good news. You’re with Al in that subject.”
But there’s a catch. This dear sweet American girl Megan is there as well. Except she’s not sweet at all. She’s the she-devil, the Satan, the Voldemort to my Harry or whatever you’d like to call her.
“But I have to watch HER, talking to Al,” I said desperately.
“Well, you talk to him first. Beat her, before she’s even had a chance to start,” Alice suggested.
“Doesn’t that make me just as bad as her? I don’t want to seem desperate.”
“It’s up to you,” Rose shrugged, “But I would act fast because she looks like she’s going to ask him to walk with her,” Rose gestured to the tall dark-haired girl who was heading closer and closer to the Gryffindor table.
“Yeah, Candy?” he looked up.
“Albus, shall we go to class?”
His face dropped when I said ‘Albus’. Oh yeah, two can play at this game.
“Sure, let’s go,” he said, getting up.
Megan’s face dropped and she walked away. That’s right, bitch.
Al and me walked down to Hagrid’s hut.
“So are you looking forward to Quidditch practice?” he grinned.
“Yeah,” I said, but couldn’t help being just a tiny bit nervous.
“You know to be fair, I was surprised when you said you would try out.”
You and me both, buddy.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but I never thought of you as the athletic type.”
Until yesterday I didn’t think of me as the athletic type either, so I forgive you.
“Well, people can surprise you,” I said, giving him a small smile.
Yes! I managed to pull of one normal sentence!
He looked at me, his eyes shinning like bright moonstones.
Ah, quite the romantic, am I not?
“Well, I look forward to seeing your Quidditch skills tonight, Candy,” he gave me a big grin.
“Albus Severus, stop that now,” I giggled.
“Hey not fair! No middle-naming, I don’t even know yours,” he said.
You make me feel so special Al.
“I think Candy Cotton is bad enough,” I said.
“ I happen to like cotton candy,” he said, looking deep into my eyes.
What did he mean by that? Does he like me? Oh, please like me, Albus.
“So tell me your middle name,” and just like that, the moment was gone.
“No,” I said, blushing slightly.
“Come on, it can’t be worse than Severus,” he said, “Can it?”
“No, I don’t want to.”
“You know I can just go into Longbottom’s office and check your file.”
“You would break into our head’s office?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t be the first time,” he shrugged, “But of course it could get me in trouble and then we would both have detention, because I would say it was your fault.”
“You wouldn’t,” I giggled.
Wait a second, I don’t giggle, do I?
“To sum it up, it’s better for you to tell me what your middle name is now,” he said, teasingly.
Am I just having a perfectly normal conversation with Al? And I didn’t trip or anything. On second thought, we’re not there yet so a lot could still happen.
“Ok, I’ll tell you,” I said, a bit quieter, “It’s Beatrice.”
“Your name is Candice Beatrice Cotton, your parents had some serious issues,” he said, laughing.
“You’re the one to talk, Albus Severus.”
“But at least I’m named after two very respectable men. One of them was a hundred years old and the other one a greasy haired git, but still.”
We both laughed and his hand lightly brushed mine.
When we had to work in pairs Al and me stayed together, leaving Megan to work with a small boy with bad skin. Al kept joking around and we laughed a lot, making the hour pass quicker than lunchtime. Yeah I like food, have you got a problem with that? When we heard the bell, we headed for potions together, since that is our next class. Sadly Al went to sit with Scorpius and Louis, leaving me with my girls.
“How was class?” Molly asked suggestively.
“Great,” I blushed slightly.
“Tell us the details,” Rose demanded.
I started to explain, when professor Treetreacle walks in. He’s a small man with a jolly nature and makes me like potions.
“These are the instructions to which potion?” he started the hour by asking and pointing to the board behind him where a series of words start appearing.
I read the instructions, but have no idea which potion they would make. Molly of course knows.
I look around and see that Al had his hand raised.
“The draught of the living dead, sir,” he said.
“That is correct,” professor Treetreacle answered.
“Wow, Al is smarter than I thought. Now our kids will be smart and beautiful,” I whispered to our table.
“Not to mention, imaginary!” Molly said.
She gets a bit frustrated when I try and chat in class. She’s a real nerd, that one.
The professor orders us to make to potion that is on the blackboard. I already forgot what it’s called, but lucky for me I’m sitting next to the three smartest people in school.
“Cece, you’re supposed to add the porcupine quills after the lavender,” Rose stopped me for the third time today, before I ruined my potion.
“Thanks Rosie, I wouldn’t know what to do without you,” I thanked her.
The double potions passed quickly and Rose and me had a free period, which she insisted we spend in the library.
“It’s only the second day!” I said desperately.
“But I already have a muggle essay to write and I know for sure that you have homework form Care of magical creatures.”
“I don’t,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back.
“Then why was Al doing it last night?”
“Fine, let’s go,” I said, letting her drag me to the library.
There she got out her muggle studies book and started researching her essay.
After a while she looked up.
“You want to know an interesting thing about the finding of America?” she asked me.
“No, I really don’t.”
The only knowledge that I have about America is that that’s from where stupid boy-stealing whores come and that’s quiet enough.
“Oh, come on, I enjoy finding out new tidbits about muggle history. You see Columbus was convinced he came to India his entire life.”
“Oh, interesting,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” She looked at me happily.
“No, I mean what you find enjoyable.”
She looked a bit offended by this, but she’ll get by. She should know better than to tell me stuff I have absolutely no interest in knowing. Even more so, if they can be in any way connected to with Megan.
At that moment a familiar face comes in.
“Rose,” I shook her, “Did I go blind or is that Dom in the library?”
“You did not go blind, but that does not change the fact that this is very peculiar. Dom!” Rose called her over.
Dom sees us and comes over.
“Dom, what are you doing here? You are aware that this is not the girl’s bathroom?” I said to her.
“I am aware.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m looking for Mike Frank-Bailey, you know he’s the new Gryffindor beater.”
Ah, finally an explanation. The only reason (and really the ONLY reason) for Dom to ever come in the library would be to find a guy.
“We haven’t seen him,” Rose shrugged, getting back to her work.
“Yeah, we haven’t seen him so why don’t you go, I’m sure your mother ship is waiting to take you back to your home planet,” I said, pushing her away.
As she walked away I actually realized I don’t hate her that much anymore. All the hate for Dom was transferred to Megan. Don’t get me wrong, if I had to choose a golf buddy she still wouldn’t be my first choice, but she’s growing on me. Maybe she’s not growing on me, maybe she’s just not growing away from me.
The day passes quickly and it’s soon five o’clock and time for the Quidditch practice.
We gather in the changing rooms where James starts talking.
“I have scheduled and reserved the Quidditch pitch for Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays form five until eight.”
James, have you heard of something little called a life? We can’t practice three times a week for three hours! That’s crazy.
“This year we will win the Quidditch cup, mark my words,” he said.
“But James, we won it last year as well,” Al points out.
“That does not matter! This is a new year! Now let’s go and practice.”
God I am so unfit. I practically died out there. How everyone else managed those three hours is beyond me.
I fell on the bench, panting for breath. Al came in with James behind him, both totally absorbed in a heated discussion about Quidditch tactics.
Al absentmindedly takes of his shirt.
Oh holy mother of all that is good and pure! Such perfection should not be aloud.
Al is sweaty from the practice and his hair is all ruffled up and his cheeks just a shade redder than usual. He looks like the embodiment of a Greek god. His muscles are perfect. And I mean P.E.R.F.E.C.T.
I don’t like big butch guys that look like they’re lifting waits 24 hours a day and Al’s body isn’t like that, it’s absolutely mouth watering. I could just see him taking me into his arms and me kissing his beautifully sculpted chest.
Don’t stare Cece. Do not stare.
I was staring. I knew I was, but I just couldn’t help myself.
If he would ask me to play another three hours of Quidditch I don’t think I would be able to say no.
Ok, I have found my weakness: A shirtless Al.
Do not stare at chest.
“Cece are you ok?” Al asked.
Shit. But still I could not avert my eyes from his fit muscles.
“I’m just tired.”
Yeah, I’m so tired I can’t lift my head, to look you in the face, while I’m talking to you. Can someone do something please! I’m unable to remove my gaze.
“I think I’m going to go and shower,” Al said, walking to the boys bathroom.
Do not think about Al showering in the next room. Do not think about Al showering in the next room. I’m a hopeless case.
I gradually stand up and take a shower as well. When I get back Al is already dressed, thus enabling me to further embarrass myself. He still looks super gorgeous with his wet hair and some water drops on his eyelashes.
Would it be totally inappropriate, if I told him I thought of him when I was in the shower?
Yes, I think the answer is yes.
Al ruffled his hair with a towel.
Why do you torture me? The only thing I want to do, is grab him and kiss him, while running my hands through his hair and bare chest. God, the chest. He’s so beautiful, I want to cry.
“Cece, are you coming?” Rose called me.
Just a second, that I wipe the drool of my face. Joking, I don’t drool. At least I hope not.
If Al played Quidditch shirtless, I think I’d get hit by a bludger multiple times and not even notice.
We all headed to The Great Hall for dinner and sat down together in a group. Scorpius joins us and takes a seat next to Rose, who blushes violently. It’s so clear that they like each other they just won’t admit it.
“So how was practice?” Scorpius asked.
I’m much to busy stuffing my face with pasta to answer, but Rose is more than happy to.
“It was fine. You should come and watch us sometime.”
“I will,” he grinned widely at her.
“Cece what if you would leave some food for the others to eat, huh?” James asked.
Nope, I love food too much and that’s what I told them.
“I just love food, is it legal to marry food? I would you know, because it would never betray me.”
They all started laughing, me with them. But in between I turned to Rose:
“But seriously, can you do that?” I asked her.
She shook her head at me and laughed a bit more. I don’t think she gets that I’m actually serious. I’d marry food in an instant.
“Oh goody! There’s pie!” I yell and take a large piece of the delicious apple pastry.
“So are you staying on the team?” James asked me, hopefully.
I weighed it out. Yeah, it’s all good fun, plus if I train a lot then I can eat more. That immediately gets me to pick a side.
“Ok, I’ll do it,” I answered between bites of the newly acquired chocolate cake (don’t judge me, ok?)
“Great,” James grinned.
I just realized that Quidditch brings out a new and smarter side of him. After dinner all the Potter/Weasleys, the entire team, plus Scorpius and me (I am part of the team and a future Potter, but I still I had to point myself out), sit down in the common room to have a friendly evening together.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay awake for this, since James sucked out my last ounce of strength. I noticed that Scorpius carefully chose a seat next to Rose. Oh, young love.
“We have formed the best team this year!” James said excitedly.
“I bet the Slytherins are good and the Ravenclaws have the Scamander twins,” Al pointed out.
Is Quidditch all boys ever think about?
“Yes, Lorcan and Lysander are brilliant beaters, but we have our darling Freddie,” Roxanne said and looked at her brother proudly.
I looked around the room and saw that Al was sitting far away from me. Damn, now I couldn’t even talk to him.
The evening evolved and Lily put on some music and went dancing with Roxy and her other friends.
“Hey Quidditch star!” Louis sits down next to me and ruffles my hair.
“Don’t say that, I know I’m going to screw up,” I said.
“You won’t. I saw that you’re a great player.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I gave him a half-smile, not believing his words.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret, but you have to promise not to tell James,” I said.
“Yesterday was only the second time I rode a broom,” I stated.
Louis looked like he was waiting for me to continue and when I didn’t he asked:
“Well, that’s it. James will kill me if he finds out. I have absolutely no experience,” I said.
“Don’t you get that what you told me is terrific news?
I was not following his tiny French ass. Not that I have anything against the French.
“You have so much talent that you are on the team without even practicing. Think about how great you’re going to be when you actually do practice!”
I have never thought of it that way. Thank you mon ami (It means my friend, you see I can be French too)!
He seemed to see that I got his point and he was smiling.
“Louis! Can I talk to you for a second?”
That was Dom. She was shooting death glares at us.
Oh, fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck (my apologizes for the foul language).
It’s just I totally and completely forgot that Dom thinks I like Louis and judging by her manner she really does not want me going out with her brother.
Louis left to listen to his crazy twin sister and I ended up talking to Hugo for a bit.
“So what’s up in year four?” I asked him.
“Nothing much,” he shrugged, “I’m thinking of getting a tattoo.”
What? I’m sure Hermione is going to be so happy.
“Oh, really? What kind of tattoo?”
“I want to get a dark mark on my forearm.”
“Are you crazy?!” I yelled, but nobody noticed because of the loud music.
“No. It’s the logo of my favorite band.”
“But do you know what that stands for? It’s Voldemort’s sign.”
“Those times are over! Now it’s hip.”
Am I old fashioned already? I’m only sixteen and clearly I’m not cool anymore.
“I’m not your mother or even your sister so I can’t tell you what to do…”
“Rose doesn’t tell me what to do,” he scoffed.
“Whatever, I’m just telling you think this through, ok?”
He probably seemed to think I wasn’t cool enough, so he left and that’s how I was left alone on the couch. Usually I was the life and soul of the party, but James’s Quidditch drive had exhausted me.
“Hey, you want to get out of here?” said a soft whisper behind me.
I turned around and locked my eyes with a pair of sparkling green ones.
“Yeah,” I breathed.
Al and I climbed out of the portrait hole without anyone noticing.
“Were you not enjoying the little improvised party?” I asked.
“Nah, I spend to much time with my family anyway,” he shrugged, “What about you?”
“Well Hugo engaged me in an interesting conversation about how he is going to get a dark mark tattoo,” I said.
“That’s crazy,” Al said.
“I know, right? He’s saying it’s the logo to some new hip band, I don’t even know it. It made me feel so old, I still like the Weird sisters,” I said, blushing slightly at my revelation.
“The Weird sisters? Really? My parents have all their records, apparently they played at a ball that was held here, while they went to school.”
“Your parents have the best stories to tell,” I smiled.
I remembered how when we were little and I went to Rose’s place, all of us would gather and listen to Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione tell us about things that happened in their Hogwarts years.
“You don’t feel that way, if you’ve heard them about a billion times like I have,” Al grimaced.
“Still it must be great having parents who’ve accomplished so much.”
“Great? It’s the opposite. Everywhere you go you’re greeted by paparazzi, plus everyone’s expecting you to be brilliant at everything. James has successfully gotten rid of that expectation. Now everyone’s just happy if he gets through each year.”
Both of us laughed. It was so weird, walking through the almost deserted hallways, talking to Al. And he was being so genuinely nice.
“So tell me something about your family,” he said and I winced.
“Oh, Merlin! I’m sorry, I forgot,” he said covering his mouth, “I understand you don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s fine. Loads of kid’s parents are divorced. There’s really nothing more to it.”
“I know my family is annoying, big and very loud, but it still functions and loves each-other. It must be hard not having that.”
I only shrugged. Technically, I had that. My mother had that, but I just wasn’t a part of it.
“I’ll build my own family,” I said.
Hopefully you’ll be a part of it. Of course I’m too much of a chicken to ever say that out loud.
“Do you fancy going to the kitchen to get some food?” Al asked me.
Do you even need to ask? But I don’t want to seem like a greedy pig so I just nod. I mean, we had dinner an hour ago and I’m already hungry.
“Are you getting some strawberries?” I teased him.
“Only if you get some chocolate,” he laughed.
“Ok, but on one condition: I get to dip some of the strawberries into my chocolate.”
“Only if I can too,” he said.
“You’ve got yourself a deal there, matey’!”
Did I have to go all pirate on him?
Good, catastrophe avoided, he made a joke as well.
“But if you take too much chocolate it’s down the plank with you, savy?”
He just gave me a smile. Ok, so I took it too far. Focus, Cece, it’s time to change the subject.
“Do you come to the kitchen’s much?”
“Yeah, I get some snacks here or there.”
“So do I and I always need to bring Rose some of the elves’s special chocolate-chip cookies. She loves those.”
“That’s our Rosie,” Al laughed.
The way he said ‘our’ made my heart melt into one big chocolate puddle, even though I know it has nothing to do with Al and me as a couple. Which we aren’t. I know that, even if I sometimes (a bit of an understatement, maybe usually or always would fit better?) daydream about us getting married and having children.
We came to the kitchen entrance and Al tickled the pear. Immediately we were surrounded with hordes of house-elves offering us plates of delicious treats.
“Would you like to sit down, sir and madam?” one of them asked.
“Yes, that would be great,” I said and he showed us to a part of a table.
“Do you have any special wishes tonight?”
Al grinned at me mischievously.
“Could we get some strawberries and melted chocolate?”
“We’ll be right along, sir,” one of the elves bowed.
“Endearing creatures, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are,” I agreed.
The elves soon brought us three giant bowls of chocolate and a platter of ripe strawberries.
“We’re sorry, but we didn’t know what kind of chocolate you wanted, so we brought white, milk and dark chocolate,” the elf apologized.
“This is too much, thank you,” Cece said.
“It’s our pleasure, we hope you will enjoy it.”
The elves left us to eat. Al dipped one of the strawberries into the chocolate, put it in his mouth and moaned. Hands down, the sexiest scene ever.
“Merlin, this is good,” he said.
“What’s so funny?”
“The way you always say Merlin. Why do you do that?”
“I guess I never really thought about it, it’s what my parents say,” he shrugged.
I reached over to take one of his strawberries and he slapped my hand away.
“Hey!” I yelled.
“Keep your mitts of my grub!”
“What in Merlin’s name was that?” I laughed hysterically (Do you see how I casually slipped Merlin in my sentence, I’m a quick learner).
“Did you just step out of an old movie?” I couldn’t stop laughing.
“I’m sorry, I’ve always wanted to say that,” Al laughed along side of me, “Here, have a strawberry,” he offered me one.
I took it and carefully dipped it in the dark chocolate.
“I see you are a dark chocolate fan,” he observed.
“Have a problem with that?” I winked at him.
“Not a problem per-say, it’s just you’re stupid,” he said and I could just see he was daring me to say something.
“Excuse me?” I laughed.
“Well, white chocolate whips dark chocolate’s ass.”
“It does not.”
“Let’s first settle something else, we both think milk chocolate is for losers, right?”
He gave me a high-five.
“But now to the other problem. How can you pick dark chocolate over white chocolate?” Al asked.
“Because it’s better.”
“No it’s not!”
“White chocolate isn’t even chocolate, it’s just milk and sugar. The essence of chocolate is cocoa powder and white chocolate doesn’t even have it! It’s white!”
“I respectfully disagree with that. White chocolate is the queen of chocolates.”
We both laughed at our fight.
“Why don’t we just eat this delicious meal?” Al suggested.
“Agreed,” I smiled.
A/N: What do you think of this chappie? It’s fluff, fluff, fluff and more fluff, but I hope you liked it. As always, the review box is down there-hint, hint.