Chapter 18 : Make-up and Mayhem
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Anthony is talking about how awesome Charlotte is, again, while we pack for the Christmas holiday. The train leaves in about forty minutes, and I’m already annoyed by how happy Anthony is in his new relationship.
“Charlotte found me and just flat out said that we should be boyfriend and girlfriend,” he smiles at the memory.
I nod my head, hearing this story a million times. I crouch down on my knees and grab my present for Rachelle from underneath my bed. I went with getting her a scarf. I promise that it’s a very fancy scarf, but it wasn’t that expensive, so I still have money to invest in my future. After talking to Lily about the discrimination against werewolves, I’ve decided to try my hand in politics, like my father. I’ve never had anything against werewolves. My favorite person in this world is Teddy Lupin and his father was a werewolf. They can’t be all that bad, and someone needs to defend their rights.
“James, you would not believe how amazing of a kisser she is,” Anthony continues.
Not as amazing as Ellie, I can tell him that, but I won’t. I feel like telling someone of that kiss will make it and the consequences of it real. It feels like something from a dream right now, and I don’t want to change that.
“Oh snap, I’ve got to go meet her on the train, mate,” Anthony shouts and grabs his trunk, “I’ll see if she wants to see with you and Rachelle in a compartment, but-”
I wave him off with my hand, “She doesn’t like Rachelle, I know. Get a move on, will you?”
He grins and runs out of the room, trunk following him.
I sigh, close my trunk, and fall on my bed. I’m not ready to face Rachelle just yet. I think of Anthony’s newly formed relationship with Charlotte and sit up on my bed, grabbing a piece of parchment from my night table.
I open it and read:
1-Do not converse with Leonidas.
I roll my eyes as I always do when I start to read this. Charlotte would create a step by step plan for herself. That’s how she organizes our head duties.
2-Stop reliving the “empty classroom incident”.
This part confuses me. Anthony told me that he found her crying in an empty classroom when they first snogged. He had assumed that she was crying over a boy, and she never corrected this assumption.
3-Stop trying to figure out his stupid ominous statement.
I frown here. Albus says that Leo likes being “mysterious” around girls, but if he wasn’t trying to get with Charlotte, why would he mess with her?
4-When forced to converse, avoid eye contact.
This one I can relate to. Ellie’s eyes seem to cut into me. It must be a Galatian trait.
5-Keep everything about past past circumstances with Galatian a secret.
She’s done a marvelous job of this one. I had no clue about her and Leo. I wonder if Ellie knows.
I’m pondering over the context behind this step-by-step plan Charlotte set up for herself when Scorpius walks into my dormitory.
“Er, wotcher James,” he squeaks, walking in and sitting on Anthony’s unoccupied bed.
I narrow my eyes on him, “Malfoy.”
He scratches his neck and clears his throat, “Funny story, I er, made five galleons the other night.”
“You sound anxious about something, Malfoy,” I growl at him.
He shifts around uncomfortably and stands up, “Aren’t you going to ask me how I made so much money?”
I sit up and frown at him, “Don’t tell me...”
“I won the bet!” he yells and runs out of the room.
I growl and stuff the piece of parchment next to my trunk before grabbing my wand and chasing after the git, “Malfoy you prat!”
He screams as I catch up to him, but he somehow dodges my tackle and turns the nearest corner. We pass Albus in the corridor, but he doesn’t question the encounter.
I follow Malfoy outside to the carriages and he hops in one that is already taking off. I frown and aboard the next carriage full of fourth years. The carriage moves too slowly for my taste as the girls gawk at me.
“Y-Your James Potter?” the short brunette says to me.
I sigh, “Yeah, I am.”
I wince as the girls squeal the rest of the way to the boarding station. I get out of the carriage as soon as I can and see Scorpius running down the platform and boarding the train. I curse under my breath and chase after him, entering the train and panting as I try to figure out which direction he went.
Leo walks over and smiles at me, “You’re looking for Scorpius.”
“Yes,” I pant out between breaths, “where did the git go?”
“Compartment twenty-five,” he waves me off and walks away.
I should be concerned that he doesn’t seem care that I’m about to seriously injury one of his best friends, but I let my exhausted brain do the thinking and race to compartment twenty-five. What I find there is not Scorpius, but a very beautiful and very confused Elizabeth Galatian.
I turn to leave, but the compartment door is locked. I try open it a couple of times and groan in frustration. I hear Ellie’s confused voice, “James? What’s going on?”
I take a big breath before turning to face her, “Have you seen Malfoy?”
“Scorpius? No? Have you seen Charlotte? She left ten minutes ago to use the loo,” she frowns in worry.
I decide to rest my worn out legs and sit down in the seat as far away from Galatian as physically possible, “The door’s locked,” I tell her, staring at the ground.
“That can’t be right...” she mutters getting up and trying the door, “why is it locked?”
I shake my head, “I don’t know.”
She frowns and sits across from me, “What did you want Scorpius for?” she asks me.
I grind my teeth, “He told me he won that bet about Rose against Daniel.”
“Oh,” she gasps. I look up to see her eyes widen in comprehension.
I sigh and rub my hands across my face. My whole body aches from running across the castle and I really can’t deal with this kind of interaction right now, “Do you think we’re hexed in here?” I ask, my head in my hands.
“Sorry?” she asks.
I remove my hands and ask again, “Do you think that we’re hexed in here?” I repeat.
“Yes,” she frowns.
I nod my head, pulling my wand out and performing a series of counterhexes on the door. Nothing works.
Ellie watches me and sighs, “I think Charlotte put the hex up. She’s very good at charms.”
“Charlotte? Why would Charlotte want to lock us up in a compartment?” I ask, laying down across the table seats.
I hear Ellie respond, “I don’t know.”
We sit in an awkward silence for a good half hour and I fall asleep, completely drained from chasing after Malfoy.
Scorpius is at it again. I’m sure that he planned to force James and I into a train compartment to converse. We’ve sat here for a half hour and James has fallen asleep. The train jolts forward, but he is not startled awake by the movement. Soon, I hear a soft knock on the compartment door, and Leo’s head poking in.
He frowns at James’ sleeping form, “I see you two have yet to, er, converse.”
“Leo,” I hiss quietly, “what is wrong with you guys?”
He sighs, “Ellie, you two have to get together. You deserve some kind of happiness.”
I stand up and push him outside so we don’t disturb James’ slumber, “Leo, you have no right to decide how I should live my life.”
He holds his hands up, “I know that, Ellie. We’re just giving you the opportunity.”
I pinch my temple in frustration, “James has a girlfriend.”
“Just give the bloke a good snog and let him know how you feel,” Leo shrugs.
“It’s not that simple. We can’t get together, Leo, I’m-” I cut myself off and look around before leaning in and whispering, “I’m a werewolf.”
Leo shrugs, “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” he asks, his voice is rising.
I raise my voice to match his, “It has to do with everything!”
Leo rolls his eyes, “God, Ellie, you can’t let it control your bloody life. Just-” he sighs and changes the direction of his statement, “I told you not to listen to what our parents have to say about you.”
Albus and Scorpius come out of the compartment behind Leo and, noticing they have barged into the middle of an argument, widen their eyes and stay, frozen, in their spots.
“Look, I don’t need you guys running around and trying to control my love life. I know what I can’t have,” my voice breaks here and I clear my throat before continuing, “Just bugger off, okay?” I turn around and march back into the compartment, slamming the door behind me and forgetting that James was in there, sleeping.
He wakes with a start and holds his wand up. When he sees that its just me, he lowers his wand and scratches the back of his head, “What the bloody hell is going on around here?” he mumbles, the effects of his sleep still clouding his thoughts.
“Don’t worry about it, just go back to sleep,” I soothe him, sitting down and opening up my book.
I hear James sit up and grunts, “Why are you reading, Wanderings with Werewolves, by Gilderoy Lockhart? That stuff is rubbish, you know.”
“My mum got it for me for my birthday a few years ago and I’ve decided to give it a read,” I reply, not looking up from the text.
James yawns, “Can I see it?” he asks.
I hand it to him and he whistles after he reads the back cover, “This bloke saved a whole village from werewolves? Impressive.”
I shrug, “I guess so.”
He hands me back my book and rubs his eyes, “Does he kill the werewolves?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“When was the book published?”
“I don’t know, like a half century ago?”
“Was this book popular?”
Geez, James is questioning me as though there was no tomorrow, “I think so. Lockhart was a famous writer.”
James grunts and sits next to me, reading over my shoulder, “Does this book ever give the account of werewolves from, well, the persons being controlled by the wolves?”
I laugh, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?” he questions, raising his eyebrows.
I shake my head, “Werewolves never recall what happens to them when they’re possessed by the wolf.”
“How do you know that?” he asks.
My heart drops and bile rises in my throat, “I’m j-just assuming,” I stammer out.
He nods his head, “It’s a good assumption. People blame werewolves for problems they can’t control. It’s sad, really,” he says, talking more to himself than me.
I sigh in relief and put the book away, “You’re right. That book is rubbish.”
“Of course I’m right,” he scoffs, winking at me.
I can’t help but smile at him and we stay like this, just staring at each other until James clears his throat, “Er, so is the door unlocked?” he asks standing up and walking to the compartment door.
“Yes,” I say, looking out the window and watching the landscape, waiting for him to leave.
When I don’t hear him leave I look over and see conflicting emotions on his face as he watches me. After a moment, he sighs and walks back to me, sitting across from me and staring at the ground, “Are you okay?” he asks.
“What?” I respond, completely taken off guard.
He laughs, “It’s a simple question, really: are you okay?” he repeats.
I don’t know why, but I break down and cry. He looks up in pure terror as I sob into my hands. I can hear the discomfort in the voice when he asks, “Ellie? What’s wrong?”
I shake my head and continue to cry as he shifts around in his seat. After a while, he gets up and pulls me into his arms, cradling me as I cry into his robes, “You always seem to cry when we’re alone, you know that? It’s quite disturbing, really. I mean, my face isn’t that horrendous,” he jokes and strokes my hair.
I can’t help but laugh and pull away from him, “You’re face isn’t horrendous, you idiot,” I shove him with my shoulder and wipe the tears off my cheeks.
“You, Elizabeth Galatian, are bipolar,” he concludes, laughing and ruffling my hair.
I smile up at him, “I’m sorry, I’m feeling much better. I don’t know what came over me, I just started crying...” I continue to babble, trying to fill the awkward silence.
James watches me in amusement, before putting his hand over my mouth, “You don’t have to explain yourself, I understand. Well, I don’t, but I get where you’re coming from.”
I remove his hand and pout at him, “You don’t understand, I don’t cry. Actually, I never cry. I really don’t know what came over me-”
“Shut it,” James cuts me off, “you really talk too much sometimes. It’s quite unnerving.”
We stare at each other for a moment before I gasp, “my make-up! Oh no, I did my make-up today and I bet it’s all smeared across my face.” I reach down and search through my bag for a compact mirror.
I hear James’ confused voice, “Make-up? You mean that junk girl put on their face? Why do you need that?”
I find my mirror and sit up, fixing my mascara and re-applying blush, “I’m meeting the greatest wizard of our generation and his quidditch extraordinaire wife. I’m going to wear make-up.”
James scoffs, “Oh don’t let them intimidate you like that. Nobody in my family wears make-up.”
I look up at him and frown, “Lily does.”
“She does?” he asks, his face draining as though he discovered his favorite quidditch team lost to its competitor.
“Yeah,” I say, finishing up and putting everything away. James frowns at my bag and dives for it, causing me to shriek in surprise. He comes up with my mascara wand and stares at it in pure fascination.
“What is this one used for?” he asks, handing it to me.
I roll my eyes, but decide to play along and unscrew the lid, pulling the wand out of its bottle, “It’s for your eyelashes, to make them look darker.”
“What for?” he questions, feeling the brushes with his finger and creating black smudges on his finger tips.
I shrug, “To make the eyes pop out.”
He looks up and stares into my eyes, his face contorted in concentration, “Do you wear that junk a lot?”
I pull myself out of the trance created by his twinkling brown eyes, “Er, yeah, I do.”
He nods his head and plunges into my bag again, pulling out my lip gloss, “What is this?” he asks, handing it to me, again.
I sigh and unscrew the lid to show him the wand for this one, “It’s my lipgloss.”
James takes the wand and smells it, “It’s smells good, what is that smell?”
“Vanilla,” I giggle at the look on his face and coat my lips with the gloss.
He stares at my newly glossed lips in pure fascination, making my heart stammer against my chest, “Does it taste as good as it smells?” he wonders out loud.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer, tilting my chin and grazing his lips over mine. His tongue flicks across my lower lip and he pulls back, smirking, “Yes, it tastes delightful.”
My mouth falls open in surprise as he dives into my bag and pulls up with my blush, “What does this one do?” he asks, clearly not realizing that he just kissed me in a way that would have made my mother blush.
I close my mouth and clear my throat. If he wants to ignore what just happened, I can play along, “That’s blush, it highlights my cheek bones.”
“Really,” he breaths, consumed with curiosity, “put it on,” he commands with a smile.
I roll my eyes at him, but do as he says. His eyebrows furrow as he watches me apply blush to my cheeks. He remains silent when I finish, lifting up a finger and stroking it across my left cheek. I flush and shiver under his touch, but he doesn’t comment, he just looks at my cheeks in pure fascination.
“Er, James,” I gasp out, unnerved by his staring, “I have more make-up.”
He beams and breaks himself from his trance, “That you do,” he responds and searches my bag for more stuff.
He pulls out the eyeliner and frowns at it, “What do you do with this one?” he asks.
I grab it from him, blushing when our fingers touch, and grab my mirror, “It’s another tool used for making my eyes pop,” I mutter as I put it on.
He frowns at me when I finish, “Do you ever poke your eyeball when you do that?”
I laugh, “All the time.”
“That’s just ridiculous,” he annouces, staring into my eyes.
I flush again under his stare, and put the items back in my bag.
I hear him scoff, “The torture you put yourself through just to impress my parents. It’s silly, really.”
I look at him and frown, “I guess, but it’s worth it. First impressions are the most important.”
He shrugs, “Sure they are.” He turns and stares out the window, “It’s dark...we should be getting there soon,” he whispers to himself.
I stare at him, taking in the laugh lines on his face, his lips slightly covered in my lip gloss, and his smirk, pulling the left side of his mouth up. My breath catches in my throat at his appearance. He’s literally taken my breath away. How cliche is that?
He looks down and smiles at me, “Well, I best be going. I need to give my Christmas present to Rachelle before we get there,” he says before bending down and kissing my cheek.
I stare at the door after he leaves, reliving every moment of our time together. I can’t help but smile at it all, and am startled when we arrive at the platform.
Leo pops his head in my compartment wincing in anticipation for my yelling, but when I don’t yell, he sighs in relief and comes into the compartment, “Ready to go?” he asks, grabbing my trunk.
“I guess so,” I reply.
Leo stares at me in confusion, "You're smiling like an insane person, Ellie. What happened?"
I laugh and shrug, "I'm not entirely sure."
I hear Leo mutter something about insanity, but I don't bother to respond. This holiday is going to be...different.
This chapter is so fluffy, isn’t it? Make-up makes me confused, just like James. Scorpius’ plan isn’t finished just yet...Albus still has to play his part. Leave a review, they make me smile :D
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