Chapter 6 : Chapter Six
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 8|
Background: Font color:
“Wesley, I am one minute late, what exactly are you going to do about that?” I ask him, with a raised eyebrow. He can complain about how I’m late and rude all he wants, but the truth is he can’t do anything about it. He’s tried complaining to Professor McGonagall but even she doesn’t take his complaints seriously anymore.
He opens and closes his mouth, trying to think of an answer while looking very much like a fish, but can’t come up with anything. He shuts his mouth and turns an alarming shade of red. Instead, he settles on what is usually a sore point with females.
“Seraphina, have you gained weight?” Wesley asks, looking me up and down. I roll my eyes and look down at myself in mock surprise.
“Does it seem like I’ve gained weight, Wesley?” I ask him, cocking my head to the side.
“Yes, it does.”
“Then I suppose I’ve gained weight,” I reply shrugging. I need some new clothes and soon, I would prefer that people didn’t know I was pregnant until I could no longer hide it. “Wesley, can we split up for rounds today? We’ll cover more ground if we split up, and quite frankly, I don’t really fancy spending a couple of hours with you.”
“Where are we going to meet up,” he asks me, looking mildly offended. It seems that the idea of someone not wanting to spend time with him is absurd. I feel like I should tell Wesley that the majority of the people in this school don’t like spending time with him. Maybe I shouldn’t, ignorance is bliss and all that.
“We’ll meet up at the kitchen,” I reply. Without another word, Wesley turns to his right and takes the stairs upwards. I guess I’ll be taking downstairs then. I turn to the corridor on my left and begin my slow and boring patrol. I slowly make my way down the corridor, looking in classrooms for any students breaking curfew. I talk to a few of the paintings that haven’t gone to sleep yet and catch up on Hogwarts news.
I poke my head into dusty broom cupboards and begin to wonder, yet again, what on earth is so very romantic about them. The closets are small, full of cleaning equipment and dusty. It’s cramped with just one person standing in the place, how on earth two people fit in them, I’ll never know. You would be extremely close together, practically pressed up against each other, now that I think about it though, that may be the point.
I will never understand how the minds of my fellow teenagers work; I would rather wear dirty clothes for a month than be in a broom closet with someone of the opposite gender.
Some of the corridors are dark and have no windows, I’m forced to light my wand so that I can see and end up disturbing some sleeping paintings. They shout some very vulgar things at me, most of which I choose to ignore since this is the usual response to being woken up, painting or not. It’s usually in these corridors that I find couples hidden in classrooms or coming out of secret passageways.
The suits of armor lining the corridors don’t help either. During the day, they’re simply decoration, but during the night, they’re downright creepy. They become even scarier whenever they move and a loud creak echoes in the empty corridor. You know what’s making the door but your mind starts to think, “Nah, that’s boring, how about we think of something else that makes that noises and it’s a hundred times more terrifying.”
I open the door to yet another classroom and sigh when I see the half-naked couple in it. It’s times like this when I really hate being Head Girl. I dislike watching people kiss in public –I dislike watching people hold hands in public but that’s not the point- but walking in on them getting it on is even more unpleasant, and far more disturbing.
I hold the door open as the couple scurry out, both bright red in the face, and both clutching their clothes to them. “Detention for both of you, you will help Filch on Saturday at six,” I say, pointing to the girl, “and you will help Filch on Sunday at two.”
“You’re making us do the detentions at separate times, why not make as do them at the same time,” the boy says, giving me a look that suggests he thinks I’m an absolute idiot. Does he think I was born yesterday or something?
“You want me to give you and your girlfriend detention at the same time, with Filch, who will most likely lock you up in a room together, alone. Now you tell me what’s going to happen,” I say. The boy turns an even brighter red and mumbles a few swear words under his breath. “That’s right, you’re going to go and do exactly what you I just interrupted.”
The couple turns to walk away and while the boy keeps walking, I pull the girl back to me to talk to her. “Let me give you some advice, you really do not want to do what you were planning on doing, believe me. Something could happen and you could end up affecting your life.”
The girl gives me a confused look before running off after her boyfriend. I sigh and shut the door of the now empty classroom. Immediately, all of the portraits shush me and tell me to be quiet. I roll my eyes and keep going. Eventually, after handing out some more detentions, and taking away points, I finally make it to the dungeons. I hate the dungeons even more than the corridors with no windows and suits of armor. Everything is just so much colder and wetter in the dungeons.
The walls always feel moist, giving the impression that there was something on the walls –and trust me, my mind didn’t immediately jump to water. The corridors are loads smaller than the ones higher up, I always end up feeling like the ceiling is going to cave in on me at some point. And then there’s the fact that everything in the dungeons smells like death. It may have more to do with the fact that Slughorn keeps ingredients that give off some very strong smells.
I can’t possibly imagine why anyone would want to sneak down to the dungeons after curfew. Judging by the empty broom closets and classrooms that I always find while patrolling, everyone else also agrees with me. At this point, I don’t even know why I bother coming down to the dungeons, nothing happens down here. With that thought in mind, I stop halfway through my patrol of the dungeons and turn around.
If Wesley asks, I’ll just tell him that I didn’t find anyone, which isn’t that far from the truth because there never is anyone down in the dungeons.
I make my way back to the Great Hall and walk past it and keep going to the kitchen. There’s nothing near the Hufflepuff common room besides the kitchen. That’s the only place where I’ll probably find someone. My stomach growls loudly and I speed up, after all, it never hurts to be quick about making sure the kitchens are empty of students.
This side of Hogwarts is a lot warmer and more pleasant than the rest of the castle. It’s somehow always warm near the Hufflepuff common room, always bright, and for some reason, there are paintings of fruit everywhere. I walk up to the proper painting and tickle the pear, who lets out a shrill giggle, and turns into a doorknob. I push the portrait inwards and step into the kitchen, only to come across what appears to be a food fight.
Everyone stops throwing the food however and turns to stare at me, standing in the doorway with my arms crossed. I was wrong about one thing; it seems that it wasn’t just going to be Albus in the kitchens tonight; Lorcan and Lysander have accompanied him.
Albus has apple stuck to caramel on his shirt, his pants seem to have different drinks spilled on them. The purple stains must be grape, the orange must orange juice, the yellow must be apple –unless Albus wets himself and I’m only finding out about it now- and he seems to have a large wet spot on his bum. His hair is white with flour, there’s chocolate smeared all over his face and he’s holding up a pie as if he’s about to throw it. He’s also staring at me as if I’m Death and I’ve come to claim his life.
Good Lord, my child is going to be crazy.
Lorcan and Lysander are both in similar states of messiness. The only difference is that they’re holding trays in front of them like shields and wearing pans on their heads as helmets.
I cock my hip and raise an eyebrow at the three of them and the poor house-elves taking cover under tables. None of them seem to have an explanation for me about this.
“So, I see you’re having a little snack,” I comment, and look between the three of them. They all have terrified looks on their faces. Lorcan and Lysander take off the pans that they’re wearing on their heads and put down the tray, while Albus holds out his pie to me as a peace offering with a sheepish look on his face.
“We were just having a little food fight,” Albus says, as something that looks like whipped cream falls from the ceiling. We all look up and stare at the large amount of whipped cream on the ceiling. Yes Albus, this was definitely a little food fight.
“Clearly,” I say, as more whipped cream falls from the ceiling. I open my mouth to tell them off but stop as I catch sight of the pie that Albus was about to throw. It turns out, it’s not actually pie, it’s cheesecake. How can someone waste cheesecake on a food fight?! You don’t throw cheesecake, you eat it, obviously Albus has some learning to do in the food department.
I wave my wand around the room, making the messes disappear and putting everything back in order. Within a few minutes, everything is back to how it used to be and the only dirty things left are Lorcan, Lysander and Albus. I take the cheesecake from Albus, grab a nearby fork and start eating. The boys stare at me, waiting for me to say something.
“What?” I ask them through a mouthful of cheesecake.
“Aren’t you going to give us detention?” Lysander asks me. I stop eating and think about it. I really should give them detention; after all, they basically vandalized the kitchen, scared the house-elves and destroyed food. I should be reporting them to Professor McGonagall, not eating cheesecake at the scene of the crime. On the other hand, I don’t expect anything less from those three and reporting them would be useless because they’ll just come back to the kitchen and have another food fight.
“Why would I do that?” I ask them.
“We had a food fight; did you not see the mess that we’d made a few minutes ago?” Lorcan says to me, I’m pretty sure he’s going to be checking if I have a temperature any minute. He’s not coming anywhere near me with those dirty hands of his.
“What food fight are you talking about?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. The boys look at each other, look back at me and then, as if we’ve all read each other’s minds, we leave the kitchen. The house-elves go back to their work and shoot the boys dirty looks as they leave. I close the portrait behind me once the boys have exited.
“So you’re not going to report us to McGonagall or anything?” Lorcan asks me.
“I don’t see why I’m going to report you simply for getting some food because you missed dinner,” I reply, “after all, nutrition is important in a growing teenage boy.”
“So, the food fight and the mess we made are forgiven?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t see any food fight or any mess. I think you need some sleep Lorcan,” I say, and turn my back on their shocked faces and walk away with my fork and cheesecake in hand. “I’d suggest going back to Gryffindor Tower before Wesley meets me down here. Wouldn’t want to be caught out of bed now would we, boys?”
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, more specifically, I enjoyed writing the end of it. I don't know why but the entire time I couldn't stop smiling or giggling. I hope that all of you also enjoyed it!
All feedback and criticism is appreciated and wanted because I basically live off of it. Let me know what you guys thought of the chapter in a review if you can spare the time! And now for some disclaimers!
Disclaimer: Sheldon Cooper does not belong to me, and by extension, neither does the Big Bang Theory, they belong to Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
The end is here