Of Nutters and Fanclubs
Why, oh why, did he call me Thomas?
It’s making me feel guilty. And I don’t do guilt. Guilt is for people who do bad things which make them feel guilty. I never do bad things, hence I am never guilty!
Well there was that one time I killed Derek’s hamster.
And Bob’s fish.
And Albus’s salamander.
And Elle’s frog.
And Jordin’s hermit crabs.
It has been an official rule for quite a while: I’m not allowed to go near pets. Apparently they die at my touch.
Quite depressing really.
I groaned as I tried to get up, a stab of pain shooting up my spine, ‘Owwwww. Stupid Jordin. Broke my back. In pain. No one cares. No one ever cares about Halle. Halle can just go and die in a hole. No one will care about Halle. No one except the Precious.’
I may have lapsed into a Gollum/Smeagol accent towards the end of my third-person rant. But you already know I’m weird.
And now you know I love Lord of the Rings!
Especially Gollum. He’s a sexy beast. In the words of James Potter, ‘I’d tap that.’
James was now towering over me, an amused expression on his face, ‘A Lord of the Rings fan, Thomas?’
I rolled my eyes, he was obviously a judger. It was still cool to watch old, Muggle fantasy movies, right?
Ah, shut up.
‘Could you help me? I’m in pain.’
His hard expression softened a bit, and to my extreme relief he pulled me up gently and propped me against the wall.
Ah, pain slightly gone.
‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘Much appreciated.’
His face hardened again, ‘No problem, Thomas.’
‘Stop that!’ I squeaked, before I could stop myself.
But I didn’t want to stop myself. Because I hated it when he called me Thomas. It sounded ugly and wrong. And it made me sound like I was a boy.
‘Stop what?’ he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
HE’S JUST DOING IT BECAUSE IT IRRITATES ME, I BET YOU. WHO RAISES THEIR EYEBROW TWICE IN UNDER TWO MINUTES? SPITEFUL PEOPLE, THAT’S WHO,
‘Stop calling me Thomas. Why are you calling me Thomas? I’m not a boy, you know. Or a tank engine.’
He slid down next to me, ‘First of all, a tank engine? I’m not even going to ask. And second of all, I only call the people I like by their first names. And right now you don’t make the cut,’ he said, his words flowing from his mouth like a river.
An ice cold river of HATE!
I’ll admit, that hurt a little bit. I turned to face him, putting on my puppy-dog eyes.
My puppy-dog eyes are the win. They are the coolest. Everyone bows down to the power of the eyes. They are just too strong. ‘Why don’t you like me right now?’ I asked, in a small voice.
I’ve gotta play this whole damsel-in-distress thing to its full potential. Gryffindor’s are hopeless when it comes to a damsel.
I’m not even going to say that he was a deprived child for not knowing Thomas the Tank Engine. That clay-mation show was MY LIFE throughout my toddler years.
His expression cracked a little bit. MUHAHAHA, the power of the eyes. The eyes always work.
‘You don’t just make out with your friends, Halle. It’s not cool. It leads them on,’ he said, running his fingers through his hair.
‘I’m sorry,’ I replied, genuinely apologetic, ‘But I was drunk. Inebriated. Off-my-rocker. Not in the right state. Under the influence. Unable to drive a car-’
‘Alright!’ he said, cutting me off, ‘I get the point.’
‘I really am sorry, even though I don’t know why you’re so upset. It was just a kiss. And I wouldn’t be leading you on, since you don’t like me,’ I said, producing my clear logic. Then a scary thought crossed my mind, ‘You don’t like me, right?’
Eep. This thought never occurred to me before. James might actually like me. Well that would change everything! We could get together, get married and then ride off into the sun-
‘Don’t flatter yourself, Thomas. James Potter never likes just one girl,’ he said, with finality in his tone which I didn’t want to argue.
I deflated a little bit. Ignore previous thoughts, they were wrong.
‘So we good?’ I asked, turning my puppy-dog eyes onto full blast.
He smiled, ‘We good, my homie.’
I laughed, ‘You remembered! We have a thing. We can call each other homie. We’ll both pretend to be gangsta. I, obviously, am already agangsta coz I’ve been at it for years, but you’ll just have to pretend. Maybe take some classes or something. Listen to some rap music? There’s this really cool guy called-’
‘Alright!’ he said, cutting me off again, ‘You need to stop talking. And you need to stop pretending to be a gangsta,’ he scolded, although he was smiling.
‘So are we calling each other homie from now on?’
‘No,’ he replied, shaking his head, ‘I think Halle is just fine. It’s a very pretty name, you know.’
I didn’t want them to, but his words made me blush.
Success: Halle/James bromance back into action.
And I couldn’t be more excited.
‘Drowning. In. Homework,’ I managed to gasp out, suffocating around the piles of parchment surrounding me.
James snorted, ‘You’re in Ravenclaw. You’re meant to be good at this shit.’
I scowled, ‘You try catching up on a week’s worth of sixth year homework. Stupid training sessions for the stupid Tournament ruining my stupid life,’ I muttered, immersing myself once again into Hogwarts: A History.
This book is gold. Gold I tell you!
‘In case you haven’t realised, I’m catching up on homework too. Hogwarts Champion Number One, sitting right here,’ he replied, gesturing to himself.
‘Nuh-huh,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘I am Hogwarts Champion Number One. You can be Number Two.’
He snickered. ‘Did you just called me Number Two?’ he asked mockingly, raising an eyebrow.
I narrowed my eyes at him, before rolling up my Transfiguration essay and swatting him on the head, ‘Immature bastard.’
‘Gee, you’re insults are the tops. So creative,’ he patronized, rubbing his head. It made his hair stick up at even more alternate angles. How did that make him look even more adorable?
It’s like James’ hair plays by its own rules. It’s just bad ass like that.
‘Remind me again why I agreed to do my homework with you?’ I asked him, but I was mostly just staring at his hair. It looked really soft, and from my experience, it is very soft. Is it strange I have a sudden desire to stroke his hair?
Yes, it probably is.
‘Because nobody else wanted to help us, and if we put this off any longer we might actually drown in work,’ he replied, finishing his Potions essay. ‘Success! Potions is completed!’ he said, reaching out across the table and engulfing me in a hug.
This, of course, resulted in the table flipping over, and the two of us landing with a huge crash. Heads flipped towards us from every corner of the library, and I cursed James under my breath, ‘Stupid fat hobbit, attacking me from across the table,’ I muttered crazily.
He looked at me quizzically, ‘Did you just call me a stupid, fat hobbit?’
I nodded. That’s socially acceptable right?
‘You are a crazy bint.’
‘Gee, your insults are the tops. So creative,’ I mimicked, pushing him off me.
I could still see everyone watching us out of the corner of their eyes. This is exactly the kind of attention I didn’t like getting. But I was kind of getting used to it.
Sighing, I righted the table with a wave of my wand and the furniture and our parchment zoomed back to their original place. Oh, I love magic.
He held out his hand and pulled me up, and I returned to my seat, ‘Add the essay to the completed pile with pride, James!’ I said, pointing to the growing pile of parchment of our combined finished essays and homework questions.
I only had to finish Transfiguration. And then I could blow this Popsicle stand.
He grinned mischievously at me, ‘That was my last one!’ he cried gleefully, ‘See you later, alligator!’ he said, grabbing the pile and leaving.
‘OI! WANKER! YOU TOOK MY ESSAYS TOO!’ I yelled.
I was rewarded by a chorus of ‘SHHHHHHHH!’ from the students in the surrounding area. One girl went as far as to mutter, ‘Fucking Potter’s slag won’t shut up.’
I glared at her; did she really think I couldn’t hear her? She should be afraid. AFRAID I TELL YOU. I am Halle: Hogwarts Champion and Punching Superstar.
I’m fairly sure I’ve never talked to her before, but she looked vaguely familiar. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf and had light, brown stick-straight hair. Nothing special. I then scrutinized the large orange button she was wearing, which had multi-coloured letters flashing brightly; ‘PROUD MEMBER OF THE JAMES POTTER FAN-CLUB’
I nearly gagged.
She must have felt my gaze (because it’s so intimidating. Rawr) because she turned to look at me, with a severe coldness in her eyes, ‘Can I help you, Thomas?’ she asked, spitting out my name like it was venom.
I narrowed my eyes at her, sending her a squint/glare. I have been perfecting these; they are actually quite intimidating now. One of the second years I was practising on actually squeaked. It was at that moment I tapped my fingers together (evil cartoon character style) and I realised I needed to stop taking so much sugar.
BLAME THE DUCKS. THEY INFLUENCE ME.
I coughed a little, and then scratched my nose. I don’t know why. Nose-scratching is just cool; spies do it all the time to send secret messages to each other. And I want to be a spy one day.
And Goddamit I will be!
Inspirational Halle right there.
James-fan-girl looked at me like I had sprouted an extra head, so I intensified my squint/glare and answered, ‘I don’t appreciate being called a slag, fan girl,’ I smirked, feeling victorious when her hand flew up to cover the badge she was wearing.
She regained her cool composure though, ‘James Potter is amazing, and he deserves every member of his fan club. You, however, you obsessive little creep, do not deserve him. So kindly back off.’
I smiled sweetly at her, ‘Just remind me, how many times have you actually talked to James in your entire life?’ I asked. A conquering smirk spread to my face as her cheeks bloomed a bright red colour.
‘Plenty of times. Most of the time he’s expressing his undying love for me,’ she lied coolly, with a poker-face on.
Bitch, I invented the poker-face. There’s no fooling me.
‘Oh, really? So if I were to ask him, he would confirm everything you’re saying?’
Her expression didn’t waver in the slightest, ‘Go ahead. I’ve talked to him so many times we’re practically best friends. In fact, I’m the closest girl-friend he has, outside of his family,’ she finished, proudly.
If I could raise an eyebrow, I would be doing so right now.
Damn my immobile hair.
‘Great!’ I replied, absolutely chipper, ‘He’s coming back now. Why don’t we ask him for ourselves?’
I am officially to be called Halle: The amazing Plan-Maker.
COZ THIS PLAN IS AWESOME!
She looked absolutely humiliated as James plopped back down into the seat opposite me. ‘Sorry, forgot your essays were here too,’ he said, placing them back on the table.
‘You, my friend, are a genius!’ I proclaimed, cynically.
‘Calm down, Captain Sarcastic. Do you want me to stick around till you finish your essay? I felt bad about ditching you. We can go back to the Common Room after, you’ve only ever been to the sixth year boy’s dorm room once,’ he said, winking.
The Gryffindor girl next to me scowled, and I smirked triumphantly. Yes, I’ve been to the boy’s dorm room. What of it?
No, I am not a slag.
I shook my head, ‘No thanks,’ I replied, nonchalantly, ‘Better things to do, people to see, you know, the works.’
I don’t really have anything to do, but let’s just pretend that in this moment, I have a life.
He scoffed, ‘Bullshit. You don’t have a life.’
Woah. Did he just read my mind or some shit? This boy is creepier than I originally thought.
‘That’s mean, James Sirius Potter. Take it back.’
‘Do it, now.’
‘You will not relent to my power? Then bear the puppy dog eyes, my friend!’ I proclaimed, sticking out my bottom lip and widening my eyes to have a deer-caught-in-headlights effect.
It works wonders on this boy! His willpower levels just melt to zero. At least, that’s what I like to think.
‘Alright! Alright! Whatever you want! Just stop doing that thing with your eyes. It’s too fucking adorable,’ he cried out, as if in psychical pain.
Boys. So easy.
The Gryffindor girl scowled again. I could practically smell her jealousy. Damn straight bitch, James Potter thinks I’m fucking adorable.
‘Anyway, I have a question to ask you,’ I said, turning around in my seat so I was facing the Gryffindor girl. She had tried to build a wall of books around her, but I collapsed it with a poke of my finger. She glared at me.
I had also noticed she had removed her badge, which disappointed me a little bit.
I’m not sure why I was acting so protective of James. It’s not like I liked him. It’s not like he liked me. So why was I doing this again?
Right. Because the Gryffindor girl’s a bitch.
‘This is my friend-’ I paused, realising I didn’t know her name. I waited patiently for her to fill in the blank, and she reluctantly answered, ‘Rebecca.’
I smiled, ‘This is my new friend, Rebecca. Say hi, Rebecca! This is James,’ I said, gesturing to the boy opposite me. The introduction was redundant; she obviously knew who he was, since she was in his fan club.
James looked mildly interested, ‘Great friend you are, Halle. Hi Rebecca,’ he said, somewhat half-heartedly.
Rebecca’s face turned into a deep shade of red, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her brow.
Bitch was nervous.
‘Quick question,’ I asked, leaning across the table. He looked intrigued and leaned towards me.
Mm, he smells like Quidditch again…
Right, back on task, like the unflappable Ravenclaw I am.
‘Have you ever expressed your undying love for Rebecca here?’ I asked, smirking.
He turned to look at her, ‘No, I don’t think I have. Why?’
‘Oh, no reason,’ I said, innocently finishing my Transfiguration essay, ‘Becca here has put me under the impression that she was, what did you say Becca? James’s closest girl friend outside his family?’
BAM! Homework done, I am so awesome. I couldn’t help but enjoy Rebecca’s horrified expression as I stuffed all my stationary into my bag.
I am so win. I should have been put in Slytherin, look me at me! Being cunning and devious.
Oh, Al would be proud.
She stuttered extremely unattractively, ‘I-was-only-joke-kidding!-eep-autograph?’ she stumbled out.
James looked at her like she had turned into some sort of alien (preferably a Dalek). ‘My closest girl friend, eh?’ he said, his voice low and husky and masculine.
Rebecca had successfully morphed into a puddle of giggling goo.
‘Oh James,’ she squawked, ‘Halle was just kidding, weren’t you Halle?’
I furrowed my eyebrows, before shaking my head. ‘Nope,’ I replied, popping the ‘p’.
James gave me an amused glance, before returning his stare back to Rebecca, ‘As a member of my fan club, you should know that Rule Twenty-Nine states that you can’t spread lies about James Potter,’ he said, matter-of-factly.
She looked shocked. I burst out laughing; as this situation was just too damn funny. James’s fan club had rules? This is too interesting.
‘You done?’ he asked, gesturing to my essay.
I somehow managed to nod throughout my epileptic fit of laughter, my face turning the same colour as Rose Weasley’s hair.
‘Alright, let’s go!’ he said, grabbing my hand in one of his and my bag in the other.
Rebecca seemed to be in a state of mortal shame and humiliation. Now I felt kind of bad, Ravenclaws don’t do the whole embarrassment thing.
‘You know the rules of your fan club?’ I choked out between giggles, ‘That. Is. So. Pathetic.’
He glared at me, ‘Jealous?’ he challenged with a cocky raise of his eyebrow, before turning to return to the Gryffindor Common Room.
Tut, tut, James Potter. Not one of your better insults.
I turned the opposite way to get back to the ‘Claws, but not before yelling, ‘YOU KNOW THE RULES!’
Even though he was a good fifty meters away, I could hear his scoff.
AHHHH. IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. BUT I HAVE AN EXCUSE! I WAS BATTLING AN EVIL MONSTER! ITS NAME... school.
you guys probably know this, but assignments suck. as do tests. BUT i am pleased to say i am nearly done with the next chapter and should be up in like two weeks :D
REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CHAPPO, FEEL FREE TO SEND ME A LLAMA. OR A REVIEW. A REVIEW WOULD SUFFICE.
FANKS FOR READING; HOT PIES.
Don't own thomas the tank engine; belongs to Reverand W. Audry.
Lord of the rings... IS MINE! ahaha, no im not that awesome. property of j.r.r tolkein,