(original title-- sometimes i feel like writing some filler at 1 am)
I honestly don't know what this is. really. it's pointless. but i guess it could be found amusing... i suppose... ack. don't judge, just read. xoxo Jils
I repositioned myself on the comfy couch in the back of the library, carelessly flipping through a stack of Al’s magical plant I.D. notecards.
“What’s the Mandrake again?” I asked.
“Those crazy-ass screaming baby plants that cure petrified people. We potted some in second year, remember?” Al said.
“Oh yeah, I went temporarily deaf. Thanks for reminding me of that fabulous memory.”
The two of us were studying for a Herbology quiz on Monday. Luckily, Professor Longbottom knew how stressful O.W.L.s were going to be for us, and has been giving us quizzes reviewing old material throughout the year.
I leaned back against Al. His shoulder made a nice headrest. We flipped through the rest of the stack, quizzing each other on random plants and their functions.
“Your shoulder blade is poking my head.” I commented after a while.
“Your head is smashing my shoulder.”
“Waddup bitches?” Ryan drawled, randomly appearing from behind a bookshelf and sitting down on top of me.
“I’m not a girl, therefore you can’t call me a bitch.” Al protested.
“Oh, a Quidditch study party! This is swell!” Finn exclaimed, sitting on top of me too.
“Find another seat!” I moaned. I mustered up all of my strength and pushed the two of them off of me. I clambered on top of my teammates, laying down across the laps of the three of them.
“What’s this quiz even about?” Ryan asked, pulling out his own crumpled notes.
“First semester of second year,” I said, then added, “Al, stop twirling my hair, you’re getting it all tangled.”
“It smells like strawberries!” he said, pulling a piece of it across my face to give me a mustache. I swatted away my mustache and picked up the flashcards again.
“Finn, tell me why Leaping Toadstools leap.” I demanded.
“Because they like to leap-- why the hell would I care?”
“Do you want to fail your O.W.L.s?”
“Guys, where are the twins and Freddy?” Ryan interrupted.
“Last period History of Magic,” Al said, pity in his voice.
I groaned. That class was the worst, especially last period. One of the perks of being a fifth year was that we got last period free every other Friday.
“I have an idea of something we can do…” Finn said mischievously, “and it’s much more fun than leaping toadstools. Because, honestly, who cares about those?”
I felt a James Bond plan coming on. “Do tell, 007.”
“Ella, do these James Bond plans ever work?” Al asked as the four of us crept down the hallway towards our teammates’ classroom.
I shrugged. “I’ve been a part of three—one Hufflepuff spying expedition and two midnight Nutella raids. They worked out fine.” Though I must admit, I was a little skeptical of this one. How would we pull this off?
“We’re here!” Finn said excitedly. We peered through the window in the classroom door. Twenty drowsy fourth years were nodding off while Professor Burns droned on and on about some boring topic. We slowly pushed opened the door and crawled into the room, hiding behind the professor’s desk. Nobody noticed us. The lecture today must’ve been really, really boring.
“Al, the charm!” Finn hissed. Al pulled out his wand and tapped each of our heads. I turned into a human chameleon—perfect execution of the Disillusionment Charm. Ryan passed out three pillowcases that I had taken from my dorm. I gulped. We had to be crazy for what we were about to do.
We crept down the aisles between the desks, and positioned ourselves appropriately. Finn held up his nearly invisible hand and counted down. 3..2..1.
Al and I plunged our pillowcase over Freddy’s head. He swore loudly, but the fabric over his head muffled it a bit. Simultaneously, Finn and Ryan attacked the twins. The once-dazed class erupted into turmoil—hopefully they thought we were Peeves or his minions or something. Al, Finn, and Ryan picked up the kidnapped fourth years in fireman’s lifts, I gathered their textbooks and backpacks, and the seven of us left the classroom.
We carried the kicking and screaming threesome all the way up Gryffindor Tower before revealing ourselves.
“You practically gave me a heart attack!” Nick screamed, chucking his pillowcase at Ryan.
“I was trying to take notes!” Freddy protested.
“Please,” Al snorted. “You were taking a nap.”
“I appreciate being taken out of class early, but I would’ve liked it better if I’d gotten some sort of warning,” Sam added.
“What do we do with them now?” I asked Finn expectantly.
“Well, I was just thinking some celebratory Nutella, but we could…”
I didn’t let him finish. Nutella sounded fabulous at the moment. “Accio!” I shouted, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen. An industrial-sized jar of the hazelnut-chocolate spread flew towards us.
“Industrial-sized?” Freddy cried incredulously. “They make industrial-sized jars of Nutella?”
We dipped our fingers into the jar, or, in Sam’s case, our entire forearms.
I scrunched up my nose at him. “You’re like a nasty cat grooming itself.”
Sam responded by wiping his Nutella-and-spit-smeared elbow on my leg.
I knew I would end up getting covered in chocolate if I smeared more Nutella on him in retaliation, but I did it anyway.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Freddy exclaimed, hugging the jar protectively so neither of us could reach it. “I want to eat this!”
“Hey, you can’t hog the Nutella!”
We tried to do homework, but it immediately became apparent that the crisp fall afternoon was too perfect to spend inside.
“What do you guys say to an ‘illegal’ pickup Quidditch game?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Winning team gets the rest of the Nutella.”
“Game on,” Al said excitedly.
We were lucky to have the twins. They were excellent Quidditch supply closet lock-pickers. We played three-a-side—fourth years vs. fifth years—with Finn playing all time Keeper, and we had no Beaters or Seeker.
“Behind, princess!” Ryan shouted at me. I tossed the Quaffle over my shoulder, and he caught it neatly. Ryan and Al swerved and passed to each other, showing off their stellar Chaser moves. Al aimed a goal at the center hoop, but Finn swatted it away with the tail end of his broom.
“Damn you, McClintock!” Al yelled. Finn pretended to be insulted.
“And now the forever sexual Nick Evans has the Quaffle, passes to his equally attractive twin brother, who throws to the troll-like Freddy Weasley…” Nick added his own commentary to the match.
“Hey! A more accurate description would be the fabulously foxy Freddy Weasley--”
“—and Freddy the troll shoots… and scores!”
We played for hours, laughing and joking until the sun went down and we couldn’t see the Quaffle anymore. Soon we were just laying down on our brooms, a hundred feet up in the air, staring at the stars in peaceful silence. It must’ve been almost midnight.
“We should probably get inside,” Freddy observed. He tossed the Quaffle from hand to hand.
“Probably,” Finn replied, scraping his fingers through the nearly-empty jar of Nutella. “But it’s so nice out.”
On cue, it started to rain.
I shrieked as the cold water hit my skin, and nearly fell off my broom.
“To the dorms!” Ryan shouted, and we flew toward Gryffindor Tower. The seven of us collapsed through the boy’s open window, a tangled mess of broomsticks and slightly damp teenagers. We picked ourselves up off the ground.
“We should do that more often,” Ryan remarked. The rest of us nodded in agreement.
We changed into dry clothes—I borrowed a pair of maroon shorts from Freddy and a faded Weird Sister tee from Al. We pulled all of the blankets, pillows, and mattresses off of the beds, making a huge pile of comfyness on the circular rug in the middle of the floor. We tried talking, but ended up passing out immediately. Kidnapping and “technically illegal” Quidditch matches were hard work.
I woke up the next morning to white streaks of November sunlight streaming through the window. I was tangled in a striped Gryffindor blanket. Finn’s foot was in my face, and Al was using my leg as a headrest. My arm was pinned under Sam’s back. I extracted myself from the mess and pushed my tangled hair out of my face.
“Wake up, idiots!” I shouted, endearing as ever.
“Wuh time izzit?” Ryan grumbled, sitting up.
“Time to wake up.” I said sarcastically.
“Five more minutes, Mum,” Finn moaned.
I played my most convincing card. “It’s Saturday morning—there’s hot breakfast.”
We tramped down the dormitory stairs, excited by the prospect of delicious breakfast pastries but still tired from the previous day’s escapades.
“Ella, what were you doing in there?” It was Dom. She looked scandalized.
I shrugged. “Team sleepover.”
Her reaction didn’t change. “Why are you wearing my cousins’ clothes?”
I shrugged again. “We were playing Quidditch and it started raining. What’s the big deal?”
She pulled me to the side. “You spent the night in the boys’ dorms. You are wearing boys’ clothes. People may assume things… extremely sexual things, if you know what I mean.”
I almost choked. “Godric Gryffindor, Dom, I promise nothing like that happened. I—“ I gagged a bit. “the thought of… just… disgusting. Ew. Mega ew. They’re my teammates and my best friends, definitely not my secret lovers.”
I rejoined the team, accompanied by Dom. We walked down to breakfast together.
“What did she want?” Finn asked on the way.
“Dom told me that people could be assuming that I was having sex with you guys since I spent the night in your dorm.” I explained.
“…that’s just nasty.”
“I know right?”
We weren’t disappointed by the hot breakfast options laid out on the long wooden tables. We filled up on sizzling sausage, warm omelets, buttery waffles, and pitchers of fresh orange juice.
Suddenly, Dom kicked me under the table.
I yelped in protest. “Wha—“
She pointed to the entrance of the Great Hall, where none other than Chase Davies was standing. I stopped and took in his attractive features, a forkful of waffle paused halfway to my mouth. He caught me looking as he walked by, and waved a quick hello. I smiled back.
Al elbowed me. Sam raised his eyebrows suggestively and grinned. Ryan wolf-whistled, and Finn sing-songed, “Princess’ got a cruh-ushhhhh!”
I poked him with the waffle on the end of my fork. “I hate you alllllll,” I moaned, putting my head down on the table. They’re never gonna let me live this crush down, are they?
oh the forever amusing antics of the gryffindor quidditch team...
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