A/N: June 25, 2006: Revised version of this fan fiction (so of course chapters without this warning will be horribly mismatched. Sorry about that). I do not own rights to any of the books or movies for that matter. I’m just a fan girl in my fan world. Enjoy.
Chapter ( 1 ) Tick Tock
The clock above your head went tick tock to a rhythm that seemed to have a little more of a rushed note than usual. You looked at every watch in the room, on walls, table tops, and even the ones in Witch Weekly magazines on slender moving wrists. All of them seemed to be ticking faster nowadays.
You rolled your eyes at the nagging thoughts, coming back to the present time where you are sitting on a red chair in the sixth year Gryffindor girl’s dorm room with your wand gliding over your face; concealer twirling hopefully close to it, in front of the dorm room’s vanity. You are trying to cover up conflict bruise from a fight that you got into a few days ago.
You were walking outside towards Magical Creatures classes when your friend he-who-must-not-be-forgiven came up beside you walking in a relatively tense pace. He asked if you wanted to walk with him to lunch and classes and then around the lake: a triple header invitation that you basically summed it up to be him beating around the bush about wanting to be your boyfriend. You cherished your friendship too much and gave him an N.O. as nicely as you could.
He still felt the need to get one sucker smack on your shoulder before you used the good ole knock ‘em where it hurts; leaving him kneeled over and calling for assistance from one of the more sympathetic Prefects that did their rounds near that corridor. Smart, non-testosterone driven guys are too hard to find, you thought bitterly before finishing up the makeup and running downstairs.
You traveled through the empty common room and out the portrait hole. It was around early lunch time, you guessed, but food didn’t really seem like a hot topic in your mind. You made a quick turn in the direction of your favorite hangout spot instead—the library. Yes, it was a little pathetic to call in a favorite hangout but wherever it was relatively quiet you just seemed to blossom into positive thoughts instead of the more tainted ones.
It was virtually empty aside from the ever present librarian; watching her books more cautiously then a lioness advancing on prey. On the note of prey, the ever handsome Remus Lupin was also a presence in the room. He was sitting at a small table at the far side of the room. It was the seat with the excellent view of the school grounds and the best one in the library by far. If anyone else you would feel the need to have a little anger at them in it but not with him.
You walked over to a window close to his seat to watch him discreetly. His blue eyes were tracing the lines of the story with much concentration while his fingers rubbed against the hard edges in an unconscious gentleness that made your knees knock weakly. You stifled a sigh—ending up in a chocking cough that alerted him to your nearness.
“Oh, hello (name), are you all right?” You nodded slightly coming over a bit.
“Yes, it was just a small cough. Nothing to fret over,” you replied. “Catching up on a bit of reading, I see.” You pointed to the stack of books on his table. He blushed.
“Looks like more than a bit to the untrained eye, however.” He nodded to a still stalking librarian. “Care to join me?” You let out a little smile before taking a seat across from him at his table. You opened up the first book you saw and settled down to a page. It was an edition of ‘Lord Byron’s poetry.’ You quirked a brow silently at the page. You had no idea that Hogwarts carried books by muggle authors in any place except Muggle Studies class. You turned to the first page to read a poem but it wasn’t filled with any typed words but instead scribed poetry that you didn’t recognize from any previous reads of his works. It must have a concealing spell on it, you reasoned inwardly. The words drifted into your mind before you could stop yourself.
I do not know who I wait for
Reading on the table
Where beauty visits me
Where I can look at her
More to love
But cannot speak
Of such things
I am young
And I know
Remus’ name was at the bottom of the poem to claim ownership… right next to the dedication to someone called ‘Belle’? You were a little surprised that your usually betrayal fueled limps didn’t spring up and chuck the book into the peasant scenery outside. You knew that Remus had a sensitive soul per say but writing love poems—albeit secret ones to a girl another than you? Keeping control was becoming a real challenge. So much that you were almost relieved as you felt the book be grasped out of your hands—until you remembered the person sitting in front of you.
Remus snapped out of his seat muttering incoherent excuses for his departure before leaving you wearing your mouth opened in a very un-lady like manner. First, you had to karate kick your ex friend for getting a little too friendly and now you had found out that the boy that you had been crushing on for at least a good year has someone else in mind.
This was becoming an upsetting week.
You looked out the window to one of the bird’s that took hostel in the large trees (except for the never charming Whomping Willow) flying into a nest with a worm in its beck for the chirping newborns. Of course there isn’t going to be any such spoon feeding for me concerning Remus, you thought in slight frustration. Even without this, Belle, there were many girls that wanted the reserved boy’s attention. Getting it however would prove to be something of a miracle if you could. Like the baby birds, you had every reason to help yourself to something delectable —even if that clutch witch Belle was in his books instead of you.
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