Chapter 3: Of Nutters and Bubbles
The first couple of weeks of term proceeded on pretty normally. Except for a little run in with the Giant Squid. Apparently he doesn’t like pies very much.
Sea animals, why don’t they like people food?
Thoughts of the Triwizard Tournament were pushed to the back of everyone’s minds, the only reminders of its presence being the lack of Quidditch (damn, I was really looking forward to working people’s arses off) and the occasional spotting of a house elf cleaning up the castle.
I wonder where the house elves live. I mean I know they’re here; they’re the ones who make the food. But where do they sleep?
That’s right, you’re looking at a lifelong member of S.P.E.W. Hermione Granger was ace for coming up with that club.
Now I had already decided I was entering the competition, I mean those Gryffindor’s weren’t the only brave chaps in this castle, but I didn’t really know anything about it.
So, I stole Elle bright and early on a Saturday morning and we charged away to library, on a quest to find history about past Triwizard Tournaments.
Elle groaned as we settled ourselves in the corner with past Daily Prophets and other news articles, ‘I’m not even entering. You are the biggest nerd on the planet,’ she complained. If she could enter, she totally would, but the poor dear was still sixteen. I was one of the oldest girls in the year, just making the age limit of the additional nine months.
‘I am not a nerd. I am a Ravenclaw. There is a distinct difference,’ I said, picking up the first article.
It had a huge picture of Harry Potter in the front, along with some babble about him crying about his dead parents. I furrowed my eyebrows; Harry Potter did not seem like the type to cry about his dead parents. But according to the article he was secretly a lost soul, needing comfort and tissues.
Godric, he’s a Hufflepuff.
Chuckling at my own joke, I showed the article to Elle, who laughed at its contents. ‘Apparently the second challenge in the Tournament was to rescue the person you loved most in the world from the deepest parts of the Black Lake. This article doesn’t have much, but there were merpeople involved,’ she said, shuddering.
Merpeople are creepy. End of discussion.
I nearly screeched as I picked up the next article, ‘They had to fight a sodding dragon!’ I said; a strange mixture of fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Despite the fact that all I was doing was reading some old newspapers in the library.
Elle’s eyes widened, ‘That seems a bit intense, don’t you think?’
I shook my head no, as I picked up another article, ‘Before that, they had to fight a cockatrice!’ I practically yelled, earning myself a very dirty glare from Madame Pince.
I just stared down at the table and avoided her gaze, muttering, ‘Shouldn’t she be dead by now?’
Elle elbowed me, but she was smiling all the same, ‘Careful what you wish for.’
‘You know, I think I’ll stop wishing I got chosen for the Triwizard Tournament. With challenges like this I’m probably going to die.’ I said, shaking the articles in front of Elle’s face.
‘What happened to your Gryffindor courage?’
‘Ain’t got any, I’m a Ravenclaw, bitch.’
She laughed, swatting me on the head for my use of inappropriate language, ‘Then don’t try out. Simple as that.’
Giving one last reluctant look to the articles, I felt my decision wavering slightly. What if I actually got in? I would be a horrible Hogwarts Champions! The burly dudes from Durmstrang and the prissy little blondies from Beauxbatons would have me beat. I couldn’t shame the school like that.
I shrugged, deciding to leave the decision to later, but I could already feel myself leaning towards no. ‘Would you care for breakfast?’ I asked, sticking out my arm so she could link it.
She nodded, ‘But before we leave, rumour has it your new Potions buddy is James Potter,’ she said, smirking suggestively.
Gah! Rumours. The bane of all evil I tell you.
‘I thought you hated him?’ asked Elle.
I nodded, ‘I do! I did. He is a jerk and a player and practically ignored me for five bloody years. But I had no one else in the class, so I decided to talk to him. He turned out to be pretty cool. Should I lighten up on the whole you-ignored-me thing?’ I asked Elle, turning to her for girly advice.
She smiled, ‘I think you should. It’s not like he did anything wrong exactly, he just didn’t do anything right. Maybe this is the year to get to know him. Plus have you seen him? He’s so fucking fit!’ she exclaimed.
I couldn’t help but laugh, ‘I think the whole school has noticed his high level of fitness,’ I replied.
We continued to giggle our way out of the library.
Everyone looked at us weirdly, but we didn’t give a fuck.
Yup, we’re just cool like that.
I slid into my seat next to Jordin in Defence Against the Dark Arts, I loved this class. It had been my highest scoring subject in my O.W.L’s, which I had got Outstanding in everything (except for a subject which shall not be named. Cough. Divination).
Just as I was about to bite Jordin’s hand for knocking over my ink bottle, I felt the seat next to me become occupied. That’s strange, I was positive Elle was not in this class.
‘Elle! I had no idea you were in this class, now we can throw things at people in front of us together-’ I started, stopping abruptly when I saw the newcomer.
It was my good old friend Connor Stevens.
‘Connor!’ I squealed, I really like squealing, it’s fun, and enveloped him in a hug. ‘I haven’t seen you all term.’ I said. That was a lie, I had seen him around, but he had been with his new girlfriend, Jessie Kurt, who absolutely hates me.
And I hate her, for she is putting an obstacle in the inevitable relationship of Connor and Dom. Neither of them realise it, but they’re absolutely perfect for each other. Would you like some reasons?
Reasons why Connor and Dom are perfect for each other.
Dom is beautiful.
Connor is hot.
Dom likes a guy who can make her laugh.
Connor is fucking hilarious.
Neither of them are gay, so they should just get together already.
I realise that these aren’t great reasons, but you should see them together. You can practically smell the chemistry.
Smells like testosterone. On Connor’s part anyway.
But, Jessie got to Connor first, and for some absurd reason Jessie thought me and Connor’s friendship was something more, and took it upon herself to make my life a living hell. I mean, can’t she tell that her boyfriend has it bad for Dom Weasley? No, she thinks I’ve got it bad for Connor. I would never date Connor. Again. Don’t ask, it was complicated.
Anyway, Connor found out and broke up with her immediately (it was a bit of an aww moment) but then she apologized to me and they got back together.
But that girl still gave me the creeps, nearly as much as merpeople did.
I just avoided her, even though now she was creepily nice to me. Like the kind of nice sales assistants are when they think you’re going to buy something from them. She was the sales assistance of Hogwarts.
‘Bloody hell, Thomas you’ve lost weight,’ Connor commented, pinching my arm rather hardly.
I smirked when he couldn’t find any loose flab, ‘That’s all muscle, baby.’ I declared, flexing my arm, just for him.
‘Jordin, how are you doing mate?’ Connor asked, his eyes wandering past myself. Connor and Jordin have been pretty tight since fourth year, when Connor saved Jordin from a train wreck of a relationship with some Slytherin chick.
Goshness, weren’t our lives just filled to the brim with drama and romance?
Or, as the cool kids call it, dromance.
Jordin grinned back, ‘Pretty good mate.’
Ahh, bromance. Ain’t it sweet?
I elbowed both of them as the Professor Johnson walked into the room, signalling for both of them to be quiet. But that didn’t stop me from putting pieces of paper into Connor’s hair all lesson and watching him get angrier and angrier until he blew.
Some people call me annoying, I call it entertaining.
‘That’s it, Halle Thomas!’ he bellowed, grabbing my hand before I could slip another piece of paper into the sad excuse of messy hair which sat atop his head. I tried my very hardest to stop laughing, but my face was as red as a tomato from keeping it up.
‘You are a bad dog, Halle. A bad dog,’ he said, accentuating the words ‘dog’ and ‘Halle.’
I rolled my eyes, ‘I’m not a dog, you know. I am a half-black half-white, female teenager,’ I said my tone drawling on in the way which I knew drove him mad.
He narrowed his eyes, ‘You need to stop this. I’ll call James and make him stop you!’ he said, letting go of my hand and letting it drop to the table.
I narrowed my eyes, looking at Connor like he was a puzzle I couldn’t figure out.
‘Why would you ask James to make me stop?’ I asked.
He smirked, ‘From what James has told us, it seems you’ve got it bad for the number one Potter son,’ he said, walking out of the room as the bell went.
Did he just say what I think he said? While rhyming?
I stood up, slamming my books into my bag and following him out into the corridor, ‘What?’ I screeched.
Connor laughed as he turned around, ‘James said you were flirting with him hopelessly in that cosy, one-on-one Potions class,’ he said, pointing his finger at me and wagging his eyebrows suggestively.
‘I actually thought you’d make quite a nice couple, but I always thought Al would get you first,’ he said, stroking his chin as if he was deep in thought.
‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,’ I said, answering honestly. James had a seriously long stick up his ass if he thought I was flirting with him.
To think I was actually starting to like him. Well not anymore!
And there was no way in hell I was ever going to date Albus Severus Potter.
Oh hell to the no.
He was like my big brother. There has been more than one occasion in which he has called me sis and I’ve called him bro.
Not even joking.
‘That little rubber duck!’ I said, throwing my hands up in the air and stalking back to Jordin.
‘Flirting with James Potter, eh? You’ve lowered your standards Halle Thomas,’ Jordin said when I reached him.
I glared at him evilly, but gave up after four seconds, ‘You know I only talk to him because I have to. By the way, I hate you.’
‘No you don’t,’ he said, embracing me in a hug.
I growled into his shirt, ‘Take me to the food, woman.’ I ordered, pulling away from the embrace.
‘Did you just call me woman?’
I thought back to it, ‘Yeah, I guess I did. Didn’t even realise,’ I said, shaking my head.
Now it was Jordin’s turn to growl, ‘Why are all my friends women?’ he said, scowling, dragging me to the Great Hall for lunch.
The postal services arrived late and just as we settled in for lunch a sea of owls took over the ceiling of the Great Hall. And there was good ol’ reliable Larry, swooping down to my table and landing atop my head.
Jordin laughed as Larry descended, and continued laughing when Larry refused to move.
‘It seems your hair reminds Larry too much of the owlry. Must be all the owl poop in your hair,’ said Elle, winking at me.
I scowled, but stayed still as I reached my hands above my head and undid the package attached to Larry’s leg. He cooed triumphantly, and I gave him in return a bit of my pie.
The little bastard should feel honoured.
‘Now get, cheeky little dickhead,’ I said, shaking my head in what I believed to be a whirlwind of brown hair and feathers.
I read the letter from my dad, which was short and sweet.
You left the stove on, you nutter. Burnt the house down. It’s alright though; one little charm fixed it right up.
Here are some bubbles. I know you enjoy them. Westham won on the weekend. God, I love that team.
I laughed when I realised I left the stove on, and it never even occurred to me. Excitedly I quickly unravelled the bubbles and to my utmost glee I started blowing to my heart’s content.
Jordin rolled his eyes, ‘There should be a law against you and bubbles. You’re practically addicted,’ he said, pointing his fork at me accusingly.
I narrowed my eyes and shot him a quick glare, ‘Do not say such things! You never know who might be listening.’
I absolutely loved watching bubbles float in the air, before they gracefully pop against anything made of matter. The way the sunlight refracted on their surfaces, revealing a cacophony of different colours, merging together into miniature rainbows.
Wow, really poetic there, but I love bubbles.
Most of the people around us were pointing and smiling, some nutters (cough. Freddie Weasley) jumped off the bench to start chasing them. Elle asked for a turn, but she held her hands up in defeat when I was only three seconds into my rant.
‘OK. OK. No bubbles for Elle,’ she said, popping one which was floating near her head.
‘Oi, Thomas! Some of us are trying to eat here and we don’t want bubble shit all over our food!’ yelled a voice from across the hall.
And I knew exactly whose voice it was, as it belonged to a certain Slytherin who I had very conflicted feelings about.
I refused to deem him with a response, instead I continued blowing bubbles. Taking out my wand, I enchanted one until it was huge and put a protective spell over it, so it wouldn’t pop until I wanted it to. After a signature swish and flick and a hushed ‘Wingardium Leviosa’, I willed the bubble to fly dangerously close to the Slytherin table. Elle caught onto what I was doing and became red with laughter. Scorpius looked livid as the bubble approached closer and closer, and shot daggers at me with his eyes.
Smiling back, I levitated the bubble until it was hovering over his steak. By now the whole hall had turned silent, and everyone was intently watching the mini melodrama which was unfolding before them. With one flick of my wand, the gigantic bubble popped, right on his lunch, leaving soap residue on everything in the surrounding area.
Jordin and Elle were beside themselves with laughter, as was the greater majority of the school. I’m pretty sure I got a smile from Professor Longbottom. Fuming, Scorpius got up and stormed out of the hall, to which I called out, ‘So sorry, didn’t see you there!’
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to my complicated life with Scorpius Malfoy.
the end of the third chapter; in which bubbles had their debut. whadduafink? rant all you want in that little grey box. SPREAD THE WORD, of the poor nutter Halle and her deranged brain.
Westham United is a british football team. i don't own them. and i don't own little ol' harry. or anything cool, really. or do i?
no, i dont.