Chapter 16: Of Nutters and Clichéd Romances
‘This pasta is delicious!’ I yelled to no one in particular, ravenously devouring the Carbonara which had been made especially for me by my favourite house elf; Curtin.
Curtin is by far my most favourite house elf, because he is adorable (he wears this little over-all ensemble, and he has this yellow hat. Yeah bitch, you heard me, yellow) and he makes the most delicious pasta ever.
And he has little boxes all packaged up for me so whenever I want some amazing Curtin-pasta, I just have to bop down to the kitchen and poof, instant pasta.
‘I think I am in love with him!’ I proclaimed, dipping the fork back into the pasta and lifting out a forkful.
Elle looked at me with mild interest, ‘Who? James?’ she asked, too earnestly for my liking.
I made a face, ‘Psh. That’s gross. I’m talking about Curtin. I think I’ll take him to the Yule Ball, because his of his excellent pasta-making skills!’
Jordin hummed in agreement, ‘That would actually be pretty cool, if you took a House Elf to the Yule Ball. Showing your support for Elf rights or something.’
Elle’s eyes opened in agreement, ‘It wouldn’t be cool, it would be fucking legendary! Just imagine the headlines. Triwizard Champion: Humbling the House Elves!’ she dramatized, spreading her arms out.
I snorted, ‘It would definitely get me some attention, that’s for sure. Anyways, back to the Complicated Love Life of Curtin and Halle. After we go to the Yule Ball together, Curtin and I will date throughout Hogwarts, and then we’ll get married-’
Jordin grunted in interruption, ‘Of course. Trust Halle to marry the house elf.’
I hmphed indignantly, ‘He’s not just any house elf. Curtin is French! Hogwarts had him transferred straight from Beauxbatons to make those prissy French kids feel more at home. So HA, he’s talented and cultured, more than you’ll ever be,’ I teased, poking my tongue at him.
‘And our wedding will be spectacular. There will be drinking, and food and dancing-’
Dancing. Dancing. I still can’t remember much from the party last night, but someone was dancing and it made me excited.
‘YOU!’ I yelled, pointing a finger at Elle. She jumped at the sheer volume of my voice.
‘What about me?’ she asked, wearily.
‘You were dancing with Freddie at the party weren’t you, Elle?’ I asked, propping my head on my fists, staring at my best friend intently, all house-elf thoughts immediately forgotten.
‘Dammit, I thought you wouldn’t remember,’ was her reply.
Jordin snorted. ‘You think you’re best friends would forget the fact that you danced with the boy you’re in love with? Not likely.’
Elle looked at him, ‘Sometimes I find it hard to believe that you’re not a girl.’
He just smiled, seeing as he’s grown accustomed to our pathetic attempts to insult his manhood. ‘Me too, Elle. Me too.’
I laughed, before turning my attentions back on Elle, ‘So? Spill girlfriend!’ I said, slapping my hands to my cheeks with an earnest expression in my eyes.
She bit her lip and continued starting at the fireplace, ‘It was…nice.’
Jordin quirked an eyebrow. ‘Nice? That’s it? No-oh my god, Freddie is so hot!’
Elle turned red, ‘I don’t think he’s hot! Not that hot anyway.’
This moment was in need of an eyebrow quirk. But since I am incapable of doing something as simple as raising a single eyebrow, I decided to do it manually.
As in I’d hold my left eyebrow down with my hand and force my right eyebrow to struggle up my forehead.
SHUT UP, THIS IS AS CLOSE AS I CAN GET TO EYEBROW-RAISING.
‘Halle, you look ridiculous,’ she commented, shaking her head at my failure.
‘YOU ARE RIDICULOUS. JUST ADMIT THAT YOU LIKE FREDDIE SO YOU CAN FINALLY GET TOGETHER!’ I screeched, before jumping off the seat and tackling her.
I’m not sure why I tackled her.
Blame James, he’s made me more violent.
She squealed, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘Admit it! Admit that you like him!’ I demanded, unforgiving in my iron-tight grip.
Or at least, I thought it was iron-tight.
Jordin was just laughing.
‘Don’t just stand there, you useless bastard,’ yelled Elle to Jordin, ‘Get this fucking crazy bint off me!’
I scoffed, ‘I was going to let go, but that was just rude. No freedom for Elle!’ I chanted, ‘Admit! Admit!’
She let out a defeated huff and sighed, ‘Alright! Alright! I like Freddie,’ she admitted, so I let her out of my grip.
She was going to be sore tomorrow.
She scowled, ‘I’ll get you back for that. I’ll steal Benny!’
My hands instinctively reached out for Benny, and I cuddled him close to my chest. Benny was my prized possession, and I wasn’t ever going to let him out of my sight!
If you haven’t guessed already, Benny is the name I gave to the grey ball I acquired in the First Task. I’d done everything one could possibly do to that ball.
I actually sat for a full seven hours all by myself, leafing through hundreds of spell books and attempting every single hex, curse and enchantment I could find on that stupid little ball. (Sans for the dangerous ones; it wasn't like I was going to Avada Kedavra the poor thing). Result: Absolutely nothing. It was like the ball was immune to all magic.
So now I’m carrying it around with me everywhere I go, hoping human companionship will be enough to coax the ball into giving me whatever secrets it’s hiding.
Oh, and I talk to it. He’s a good listener, Benny.
Elle narrowed her eyes, ‘That’s right, bitch. Be scared,’ she threatened.
‘As much as this conversation interests me,’ said Jordin, ‘I’m off to stalk Lucy.’
I sputtered, ‘I’m sorry, did you just say stalk?’
‘I think it’s kind of cute,’ Elle said, although she was smirking.
I just groaned and dropped my head into my hands, ‘We’ve lost you to the dark side!’
He shrugged, ‘At least they have cookies. Besides, Lucy is fun to stalk. She’s always smiling and flipping her hair off her shoulder. Stalking is the tops!’ Jordin declared before leaving us.
I just shook my head, ‘That boy. Too sweet for his own good.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Playing with the grey ball in my hands, a thought struck my mind. ‘Want to help me solve Benny?’ I asked.
Elle made a face, ‘That ball is starting to annoy me. Maybe it really is just a ball, and you have to use it as a weapon in the next task!’
I rolled my eyes, ‘Yes. I’m sure the best the Ministry could come up with was a ball to throw at the enemy.’
Her face screwed in concentration, when suddenly her features lit up with excitement. I could practically see the light bulb ding on top of her head. I leaned forward in anticipation, ‘Did you just think of something?’ I asked, anxiously.
Nodding victoriously, she explained, ‘Maybe inside the ball is a frog. And this frog talks. And you have to go through some sort of obstacle course, which only the frog knows how to master. What do you think?’ she suggested, an accomplished twinkle in her eye.
It was in this moment; I grabbed a pillow off the couch and began beating her with it.
‘Stupid. Bint. Got. Me. Excited. For. Some. Stupid. Frog. Idea,’ I said, between hits.
She squealed. ‘You’re too violent, Halle Thomas. I’m just trying to be useful. Why don’t you go ask Al?’
I steadied the flow of beats from my pillow-of-doom, ‘Great idea!’ I chirped, throwing my arms around her.
She snorted, ‘Crazy bint.’
‘Even pillow fights were too violent for the likes of us Ravenclaws,’ I joked, scooping up Benny and walking towards the door.
I keep on hearing a giggle.
Why do I keep on hearing a giggle?
Al and I have been at solving Benny for two hours now. Exhausted, we were drooping over tables in the library; a fortress of books built around our little desk.
I had become desperate, now checking Muggle books for any clues about Benny.
‘Hmm,’ I pondered, ‘Too light to be gold. Or silver. Or bronze,’ I said, flipping through the pages of a Science textbook.
‘Halle!’ Al exclaimed, head rising from the desk in excitement, ‘I think the ball may be hollow!’
‘Well considering we’re trying to open the ball, I would assume it’s hollow, correct?’ I replied, pitying him when he dropped his head down in defeat.
‘Well what are you doing? Like that Muggle stuff’s going to help,’ he argued, grumpily. Al didn’t like being wrong.
‘I’m trying to find out what it’s made of,’ I replied, flicking the page.
‘How is finding out what it’s made of going to be any use?’
‘Well,’ I replied, eager to share my theory with him, ‘By finding out what it’s made of, we can find out how to defeat it, so to speak. If it’s flammable, we can try burning it. If it’s water soluble, we can wash it. If it’s affected by acids, we can dissolve it. We’ll, unravel it,’ I explained, proud of the theory I had developed.
‘Well, why don’t we just try a bunch of stuff on it?’ he asked, ‘I’m sure Uncle George and Aunt Hermione have tonne of random acid stuff somewhere.’
‘I don’t want to risk damaging it,’ I replied. ‘Besides, what if the ball had traces of carbonate and I mixed it with acid? Factoring in the fact that Benny is magic the reaction would probably give off excessive amounts of carbon dioxide and I’d choke to death,’ I explained, shrugging my shoulders.
He looked at me with an awestruck expression, ‘Sometimes I forget how damn smart you are.’
Blushing slightly I returned to my book, checking to see if the numbers 32 and 141 were anywhere in sight. Those were the two numbers inscribed on the side of the box which Benny had come in.
Germanium had 32 protons and electrons.
Could the ball be made of germanium?
Heh. That's a funny word. Germaniooooom. Sounds like geronimo. I WONDER IF THERE'S A CONNECTION?
Ahem. I can concentrate.
Just as I was about to do an in-depth study on germanium (oh the joys of being a Triwizard Champion) I heard that infuriating giggle once more.
‘Did you hear that giggle?’ I asked, poking my head over the top of our fortress.
Al looked up from his book, ‘A giggle?’
I nodded, ‘A giggle.’
‘I am a manly man. I do not giggle.’
I scoffed, ‘I never said that you were the one doing the giggling. I can just hear a giggle.’
He looked at me like I was going loopy. And to be honest I get that look a lot, ‘Maybe we should take a break.’
I shook my head, ‘No! I’m fine. I’m really grateful, actually. Thanks for doing this for me, even though you’re fraternizing with the enemy.’
He smiled, ‘Anything for my little sis,’ he said, reaching over to fluff my hair.
And there it was again. The giggle.
‘Alright! That’s enough! I most definitely heard a giggle!’ I exclaimed, jumping over our fortress to look for the source of the mysterious giggling noise.
In fact the library was pretty deserted except for the ten odd students who were finishing their homework on a Saturday afternoon.
Seems like the perfect time to break out into song.
‘Sunshine, lollipops and RAINBOWS. Everything that’s something, something, something, something- er- together!’ I began muttering underneath my breath.
So I didn’t know all the words to the song. Sue me.
Cornering the source of the giggle, which was behind a bookshelf, I brandished a finger at the lone figure huddling behind the books.
‘Gotcha!’ I yelled, uncovering the culprit of the filthy giggling.
It was a girl, a fifth year Slytherin to be exact. She had deep, dark, brown hair which came down to her shoulders, with huge eyes to match. She was the fitting image for the word adorable, because that’s what she was. I wanted to put blush on her cheeks and stuff her into a little polka-dotted dress and love her forever.
In a non-creepy, non-lesbian way of course.
She jumped slightly, before turning bright red, ‘Uh-I was just-reading-books-are-cool,’ she stammered.
I plopped down next to her on the floor and stuck my hand out, ‘Halle Thomas,’ I introduced.
‘Skye Reed,’ she answered, taking my hand.
‘Alright Skye. Care to share?’
She looked slightly hesitant, before nodding her head, ‘Um. What’s up?’
‘Why are you hiding behind a bookshelf? In what seems to be a prime position to be stalking Albus and me?’
She turned bright red, ‘I wasn’t stalking!’
I smirked, something was going on here. I cocked an eyebrow –alright, I lied, there was no epic eyebrow cocking involved–and opened my mouth to ask why, when-
‘Halle, what are you doing here with Reed?’ questioned Al’s voice from the entrance of the bookshelf.
His expression was disdained, like there was something rotten under his noise. And I’m guessing this rotten thing was Skye.
I turned to face Skye, who was once an adorable fifth year, but now seemed to be a thundering goddess. Her eyes were spitting with anger. ‘Am I some sort of disease now, Potter?’
He scoffed, ‘Do I need to answer that question?’
Alright, this was turning into a warzone. A place no longer safe for brunettes like myself. I quickly got up, and sent the pair of them questioning glances.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Skye certainly wasn’t spying on me. So, why go from stalking a guy one second, to battling him the next?
‘This looks like it has history,’ I said, motioning towards the pair of hormonal teenagers, ‘And I’m no good at history.’
Al snorted. ‘That’s alright, Reed’s not good at anything either.’
Skye growled, ‘At least I can pass the easiest subject at Hogwarts. Still getting D’s in Divination, Potter?’ she taunted, a victorious smirk playing on her lips.
I don’t know how strongly I can stress this, but Al hates being wrong. And failing things.
I inhaled sharply through my teeth, ‘Burn.’
Al sent me a condescending glare, ‘Get back to the book fortress, Halle. I won’t put you through that thing’s presence any longer,’ he said, tugging on my hand and leading me away.
I didn’t let my eyes leave Skye for a second, now that Al wasn’t looking, she looked dejected. Put out. Like a flame which had just been doused by a fire-hose.
Now any normal person with proper social etiquette would have said something like, ‘Are you OK?’ or, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Instead, being the socially retarded nutter I am, I mouthed to her the words, ‘Do you like pie?’
My mouthing skills suck, so I was quite surprised when she laughed slightly and mouthed back, ‘Who doesn’t?’
I nodded approvingly. I think I’m going to like this girl.
‘So you reckon the ball could be made of germanium?’ I asked Al, watching my hair touch the floor as I hung upside down on the couch.
I felt like a monkey or something.
I was currently in the Slytherin Common Room, chilling with Al because I felt like it. Plus, I was curious. Who was this Skye character? The burning desire for answers proved dominant in my Ravenclaw brain.
Al nodded enthusiastically, barely even glancing up from his Transfiguration essay, ‘Makes sense. It’s got 32 proteins and electricity,’ he replied.
I stifled a laugh, ‘Don’t you mean protons and electrons?’
He waved a dismissive hand, ‘Same thing.’
‘Question,’ I said to Al, which earned enough of his attention to get him to stop working on his essay.
‘Why are you helping me solve Benny instead of your brother?’ I asked, genuinely curious. I was extremely surprised that Al had been so enthusiastic to help me over his brother. So enthusiastic it made me slightly suspicious.
Basically, I think Albus is a spy for the Potter family.
His cheeks turned pink, before he busied himself with his essay, ‘He didn’t want my help,’ he mumbled.
Predictable. James Potter wouldn’t accept the help from the smartest bloke in Hogwarts just because he was his little brother.
Silly Gryffindor pride.
‘Well I want your help,’ I assured, reaching out to ruffle his hair.
He grunted in response and ignored my presence as his quill flew across the parchment. We slid into comfortable silence, so I decided to cover myself with a blanket and try and camouflage with the couch. I was doing a pretty good job, too.
‘Hey Al, look, I’m camouflaging!’
He didn’t even look up. ‘That’s nice, Halle.’
‘Another question?’ I asked him.
He looked up at me, success! ‘Shoot.’
‘What’s up with you and Skye?’
And then he growled. A legitimate, full-fledged growl, which made me want to run away and laugh all at the same time. So, Skye was definitely someone important. But I wanted to know who exactly she was.
Merlin, I’m such a stalker.
DON’T JUDGE ME!
That’s alright, you can judge me.
BUT JUDGE ME ONLY IF YOU WANT TO DIE A PAINFUL DEATH.
That’s right. Be scared.
‘Reed is my fucking Potions Partner. She’s annoying as shit,’ Al explained, shoving his hands through his hair in absolute frustration, ‘I guess we’re enemies since all we do is fight. And she’s best friends with Rose, so everywhere I go, she’s fucking there too. Stupid bint is part of our group. God, she’s just so bloody annoying!’
Ah, she was Rose’s best friend. They must form a little quartet- Al, Scorpius, Rose and Skye. So… they were all in the same group and Al and Skye hated each other.
Godric, this was already sounding cliché. ‘She’s pretty,’ I noted, in a nonchalant manner.
I got the exact response I expected.
Al unexpectedly dropped his quill and a startled expression took over his face, ‘Er, well, kind of. I guess.’
Mission: Success. I already know what’s happening here. She hates him. He hates her. The sexual tension becomes too much and they snog in a broom cupboard.
Boom. Got a Sherlock in the room.
I nodded knowingly, ‘And she just gets under your skin, doesn’t she?’
He nodded, wordlessly continuing his essay.
‘And sometimes when you fight, there are sparks in the air, and everything just fades to blackness?’
His jaw clenched, ‘I see what you’re doing, Halle. Stop.’
I squeaked in protest, ‘I’m not doing anything, Al. Just describing your typical argument with Skye. I’m telling the truth, aren’t I?’
He didn’t say a word.
Ha! This boy is done for.
Deciding to practise my camouflaged skills again, since Al was obviously exasperated that I’d already figured out his relationship with Skye (I wasn’t in Ravenclaw for nothing); I huddled deep into the emerald couch.
It was at this moment I felt a presence next to me, as a heavy thing dropped itself into the couch I was currently hanging off. Maybe it wasn’t human.
The thing sighed and kicked its legs onto the table opposite the couch, earning an annoyed grunt from Al.
Alright, it was definitely human.
I stiffened slightly; I didn’t get along well with most Slytherins. Sure, I got on swimmingly with Al’s little group, however the greater part of the female Slytherin population hated me because I used to date Scorpius Malfoy and I was best friends Albus Potter.
It’s not my fault I have to surround myself with beautiful people.
‘Shove your feet off the table, Scorpius,’ Al muttered darkly, before scratching away with his quill again.
Grr. Scorpius. I hated running into this bloke.
I tugged the blanket further down so it covered my head and left my feet exposed. Maybe he won’t notice me. He’s pretty thick after all.
But he gasped at my feet, so I think Scorpius seemed to be aware of a giant lump on the couch next to him. So what does he do? He pokes it.
I hate being poked.
‘Hey Al? What’s this thing I’m poking? It feels like a person, but you can never be sure these days.’
Al grunted, ‘Lift the blanket and see for yourself.’
That little bastard! He knows how awkward it is whenever Scorpius and I run into one another.
He’s setting himself up for awkwardness.
‘Ooh,’ Scorpius said, ‘Did you get me a surprise present?’
‘No,’ Al responded, ‘Why should I? You’re overemotional and you smell. So no presents for Scorpius.’
‘I’d really prefer it if you called me Scorp. Or Scor. Or Scar. That would be cool. Maybe in my next Quidditch match I could purposely get a scar and then people would call me Scar instead of Scorpius. Merlin, I hate that name.’
I giggled unintentionally and muttered, ‘Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Worst name ever.’
There was silence before he pulled the blanket off me, ready to lecture whoever had made fun of his name. At the sight of me, his face fell short and his expression twisted into disdain. ‘Oh, it’s you.’
I shot upwards, before realising I was upside down, and fell onto the floor.
I should really stop falling. Hogwarts Champions don’t fall. Not the cool ones, anyway.
He chuckled and held out a hand for me to grab, ‘I see you’re still horribly uncoordinated.’
I nodded, ‘Some things never change.’
Yup, there it was. The awkward silence. If you listen really hard, you can hear the tumbleweed in the background.
Merlin, just kill me now.
Albus cleared his throat awkwardly, before grabbing his stuff of his desk and getting up to leave, ‘I need to go now. I –uh- smell. That’s right. Need to shower,’ he said, heading straight for the stairs.
‘Yeah, I think I’ll head back to the ‘Claw Common Room.’ I said.
‘Probably go to the library, or something.’ Scorpius said, nearly at the exact same time.
But Al began shaking his head adamantly. He stopped in his tracks, turned swiftly on his heel, and pushed us back onto the couch.
‘No.’ he said.
Scorpius raised an eyebrow, ‘You alright there, mate?’
‘No I am not alright!’ he ranted. Where did this come from? Two seconds ago he was studying and he was content. Now he looks like a tomato. An angry tomato. A tomato that wanted revenge.
Albus Potter: The Story of the Angry Tomato.
I should turn that into a movie.
‘You two have avoided each other for months. And you make every situation awkward. So neither of you is leaving until you work it out,’ he ordered, before turning on his heel and marching away.
We both sat there, gaping, ‘Poor bloke must be on his period,’ I muttered.
And at this, Scorpius laughed. Merlin, I missed his laugh. It was a really nice sound, but I noticed it didn’t give me butterflies like it used to.
Nothing really gave me butterflies anymore.
Except for James, of course.
For reasons unknown.
‘Oh screw this,’ I said, turning to face him, ‘I’ve never been good at holding grudges anyway.’
He raised an eyebrow, ‘You could have fooled me.’
‘I’m not apologizing for not talking to you, Scorpius. You cheated on me.’
A pained expression passed over his face, ‘I know. And I’m sorry.’
‘But maybe we weren’t really that great as a couple, anyway. We were awesome at being friends.’
I was expecting that to hurt. But it didn’t. In fact, it sort of made sense. ‘Yeah. We were great friends. All kick-ass and shit. The Slytherin and the Ravenclaw.’
He smiled, ‘I’ve kind of missed you, Halle.’
‘I’ve kind of missed you too. But not in that way.’
‘No. Not in that way. But I’ve definitely missed you.’
That made me smile. A big, goofy smile which took over my whole face. He chuckled.
‘I’ve missed your creepy smile, too.’
That was just too much. The conversation was just too damn sappy. Deciding to put an end to it, I threw my arms around Scorpius, engulfing him a hug.
And he hugged back.
‘Friends?’ he asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.
I retracted my arms and leaned back onto the couch, ‘No way.’
He looked a little taken aback, ‘So this conversation was sort of useless.’
I smiled, ‘We’re not friends. We’re bros.’
He slumped in relief, and then flicked me on the forehead, ‘Nutter.’
In that moment, all the awkwardness we had previously been feeling, it just vanished. Disappeared. And what made things even better, was that I had no feelings for the bloke. Zero. Nada. And I could tell he felt the same way, too.
This made everything so much easier.
And I really had missed Scorpius, and I realised as we began talking, I had really missed his company. We talked for four straight hours, catching up on everything, and there was never an awkward silence.
Huzzah! Three bromances for Halle.
I am just too popular.
(Stop laughing. I could be popular. Maybe. If I tried.
Oh, shut up.)
A/N: GIRRAFFES KIDNAPPED MEEE. AND THEN THE SLOTH ATE MY COMPUTER!
and that's my excuse for updating so slowly. shut up, it's believeable.
IM SO SORRY READERS! ive been a lazy poohead, but i've updated now, and hopefully you like! remember to eat a pie, then savour it, and then pour out all those lovely pie-related feelings in a review, and then i shall feed the review to the giraffe so he doesn't kidnap me!
it's win-win situation!
tata lovely readers:D
my name aint be rowling, so i own no potter. *cries in room* dont own the song 'Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows'- Lesley Gore. and Sherlock is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's masterpiece. AND THATS A WRAP. penguin.