[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 32 : I Love All the Things You Do
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 28|
Background: Font color:
I got no regret right now (I’m feeling this)
The air is so cold and low (I’m feeling this)
Let me go in her room (I’m feeling this)
I love all the things you do
Anastasia was acting strange. Stranger than usual, that is.
Normal would have been Anastasia simply yelling loudly, running about and making a commotion. However, on the first day of term after we got back from Christmas holidays, she refused to put on her school uniform and, instead, went to class in a furry chicken costume.
I kid you not - where she even got that costume I will never know. But she wore it, and word had it that Minnie flipped her lid. Now, had she given the slightest reason for the costume, I would have dismissed it as Anastasia being herself, but she refused to give an explanation or take off the costume. I sometimes wondered how she took it off to use the loo.
"Sirius I need help with the zipper." After three days, Anastasia finally decided to take the costume off. I pulled the zipper down for her and it exposed the back of her rainbow polka-dotted bra.
Hey, that matches the underwear she was wearing that day at the lake . . . Oh, crap, I thought. Cold shower. Think cold shower.
The thought was involuntary, I swear. Not on purpose.
Anastasia grabbed a handful of clothes from her trunk and traipsed into the bathroom with her costume hanging halfway off her.
Godric, I thought as she closed the door to the bathroom. Has she got to run around half naked?
I lounged on my four-poster with my parchment, a self-inking quill, distracting myself with trying to think of what to write for the essay that Slughorn had set on illegal potions.
"Sirius!" I heard again.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"I think I broke the shower!"
I got up, shaking my head at Anastasia’s idiocy. I barged into the bathroom and nearly choked. Anastasia was standing there, wrapped in an incredibly small white towel. And that’s it.
"Fix," she demanded. Obviously, Anastasia didn’t see anything wrong with the picture.
"Er, okay." I poked the showerhead - nothing happened. I turned the knob and tried to get the water to run, but it didn’t. I growled. "Okay, Mr. Shower, you’re going down."
It took me nearly ten minutes to figure out that someone had shut off the water pressure.
"Thank you muchly."
I smiled at the wall near Anastasia, avoiding her eyes and body. It was a great body - all short (but not too short - she was short in an adorable way) and curvy and smooth and gorgeous and tan(ish) and all those wonderful things. I walked quickly towards the door and shut Anastasia in the bathroom again. I heard the muffled sound of the shower door closing; it took every ounce of my willpower not to jump in there with her.
I went back to my bed and settled in front of my work. After fifteen minutes of absolutely no progress, simply staring at the curtain of my bed in a trance, Remus walked into the dorm. "What did she do now?"
I suppose my face must have betrayed the mood I was in. "She asked me to fix the shower," I said quietly, hoping that she couldn’t hear from the bathroom. "She was in a towel." I shuddered as the compulsion to join her once again went through me. "Only a towel."
He laughed. "Don’t you miss the days that you could see Anna in a towel and think nothing of it? You know, I don’t really seem to have the problem with it that you do."
"Screw you," I said, and flipped him off for good measure. Then, in a much nicer voice, I said, "Want to write my essay for me?"
"No," Remus replied. "But I do want to give you some advice."
"Yes, yes, yes, I know," I drilled. "Don’t tell Anastasia, she won’t react well. Yes, I still remember chocolate up my nose quite clearly."
"Yes," Remus said, sitting down next to me. Uncomfortably close. If I hadn’t know his track record with girls, I might have made an assumption about his sexual orientation. "And no.
"Because now there’s more information. We know that Anna loves to flirt. How do we know this? Damon told me; that’s how I know. We know that Anna loves anything ‘no strings attached.’"
I interrupted him. Before I could let Remus get too far into his plan, I needed to clear up a few things. "Mate, listen. There’s a certain way this thing has got to go - if it goes." In any other circumstance, I would have jumped up to increase the dramatic effect of my speech. But, somehow, when I was talking about Anastasia, I didn’t feel the need to overdramatize. It was already very dramatic.
"If you don’t think I’ve tried to talk myself out of liking her, boy, have I. I spent quite a long time denying, and then some more time trying to talk myself out of it. Newsflash: it hasn’t worked. And if you think that I could tolerate one of Anastasia’s half-arsed, pseudo relationships, then you have no idea how - how . . . In love with her, I am."
"Woah, man. Don’t even think about telling her that."
I considered throttling one of my best mates, but decided that in the long run, he helped more than he hurt. "Thanks, mate. Thanks."
I seemed to have a talent for walking in on people. I’d been doing it since my first year, but more recently I’ve moved on to walking in on people that I know. I’d walked in on Anastasia twice in less than a year, and then James and Lily.
They were snogging like no one could ever see Lily Evans doing. I mean, there were roaming hands, groping, and most definitely some tongue action. Not exactly how one would expect their Head Boy and Girl to work together. I thanked God that Lily did not believe in sex before marriage, otherwise, I would have been awaiting the news of me being named Uncle Sirius.
Anastasia, at least, seemed to be put off relationships more than usual. She outright refused to snog anyone for fear that it would turn into something like it had with Darren.
"Dude, seriously, snogging is so not worth it. I mean, it’s not even all that fun past five minutes. No sir, I’d much rather be doing something stupid and potentially dangerous for myself and those around me," she told me, as we snuck down to the kitchens one January night. Anastasia had ‘the munchies’ as we all liked to call them. For some reason we (as in the Marauders and Anastasia) were almost constantly plagued by these.
"You know," I advised her. "You should get some female friends."
Her response. "Eww. Why?"
"Because if you keep eating like us boys, then you will get fat."
She stuck her tongue out at me. "I resent that. Besides, I could never let myself get fat; if I did, I wouldn’t be able to run away from the scene of the crime, which would mean I would get caught, which would mean I would get in trouble, which would mean that I couldn’t have fun, which would mean that I’d be depressed, which would mean that-"
"Bloody hell, woman! Will you shut your trap?" I threw up my hands exasperatedly, fighting back a smile and rolling my eyes. Like that would ever happen.
"Which would mean that I would try to kill myself, which would mean that I could be potentially dead, which would mean that I could no longer eat, which would mean that I’d be a really hungry dead person, which would mean-"
"Shut it," I whispered urgently all of a sudden. "I think I hear something."
We had nearly made it to the kitchens; being caught at that point would be entirely frustrating.
Around the corner were hushed voices, and other noises. Still under the cloak, we tentatively peered around the corner.
"Godric’s smelly old socks! Not-a-bloody-gain!"
We had run into a very, very, passionate Remus and Dora. They were snogging, and moving against each other in a way that would need very vulgar words to describe. Definitely not proper for anywhere but the confines of a secluded dormitory, that’s for sure.
"That right there . . . Remus is sort of like an un-neutered alpha dog . . . With clothing . . . And turned the wrong way," Anastasia said, in that innocently blunt way of hers.
I nodded in agreement, then, tried to figure out how to get into the kitchens. Had they been up against a wall, it would have been easy to sneak past them - they surely wouldn’t have noticed anything. However, they had chosen a spot right against the portrait of the fruit; there was no other way into the kitchens.
"I don’t know how we’re getting in," I admitted.
"That’s okay," Anastasia said, turning away. "The munchies’ have been temporarily killed by the site of that."
I was sitting (innocently) at a desk in the Gryffindor common room; the month of January was just coming to a close and my analysis of human transfiguration was due. I had concentrated the essay on animagi; I figured that it would be quite easy, considering that I was one.
I had rounded off a nice two feet when I was interrupted.
"My, my, my. Well, may I say that you’re looking even finer than last year?"
I looked up to see someone that I hadn’t spoken with for quite a while: Alex. She was no longer friends with Lily, so we weren’t even connected by that. In fact, I hadn’t spoken with her since Anastasia punched her lights out the previous year. Not that I was complaining.
"No, you may not," I told her. I pulled out my wand so I could more quickly dry the ink on the parchment; I wanted to make a quick exit.
"Well, pardon me if I don’t listen," she said coyly, running her hands through her blonde hair. She had grown it out from it’s short cut. It was still annoyingly light and shiny. Hair was only allowed to be shiny if it was dark.
Like Anastasia’s, I reasoned.
"You’re not pardoned," I replied, rolling up my parchment and abandoning my quill and ink on the desk; the loss of those supplies was a small price to pay for a quick exit. "And you’re even more of a tart than I remember you being. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a roommate to shag."
Ha, I thought. Mindgames.
I left a scandalized looking Alex standing stock still, and I turned away to walk up to my dormitory. Before I disappeared, a thought occurred to me. I turned back and said one more thing to her, just to clear up any misunderstanding that there may have been. "Oh, and it’s not one of the guys."
"You told her what?!" James seemed scandalized by the scene with Alex, mere minutes before.
"That I had a roommate to shag. Oh, and that it wasn’t one of the guys." I felt the need to clear that detail to James as well; I wouldn’t have wanted him thinking that I alluded to Alex and me and one of my male roommates were about to engage in . . . Well, that.
"You don’t think that Anastasia will be angry; do you?" I asked nervously, suddenly concerned what she might think of all this.
"Of course not!" James assured me, who had moved past the shock and now found the whole thing hilarious. "It is Anna, after all."
A moment after that, Anastasia herself burst into the dormitory. She looked slightly put-out. "I’m not a whore because I sleep up in the dorm with you guys, am I? I mean, even Dumbledore knows and he hasn’t done anything about it and -"
I had the urge to laugh, but decided not to; if Anastasia was doubting herself in any way, there was a problem. "Of course not! What gave you that idea."
"Fucking Alex," she grumbled, as she slung her bag to the edge of the bed. I tried to remember why she was out so late that particular night; I hoped she hadn’t been snogging anyone.
"You fucked Alex?" James asked, a tad too excitedly for it to be entirely fake. Which probably meant that he actually thought that Anastasia and Alex . . .
"No." She didn’t even pretend to be angry with James. Instead, she burst out laughing, but quickly sobered up.
I was about to console her, and ask why the hell she had even listened to the slut, when she burst out with, "You know what? I have no idea what I was thinking! Sorry, boys, I’ve got to go take care of something."
And before we could say anything to stop her, Anastasia had turned and left the dormitory. "I think it’s safer for us if we don’t go after her," James advised.
Anastasia returned about a minute later, looking much more content than she had before. "Don’t ask, and I won’t have to tell," she advised.
I put my hands up in a surrendering gesture; something told me I really, really didn’t want to know. However, I did need to ask one question. "Why were you so worried that people thought you might be a whore?"
Anastasia, who had gone into the bathroom to change, left the door partially open so that we could still talk. "Well, it’s not what other people thought-" Anastasia came out of the bathroom and tossed her uniform aside. "I was worried that you guys might’ve thought it; cause I love you guys and I totally wouldn’t want to look like a whore to you."
She walked back out, and I got up and slapped her lightly across the face, rolling my eyes like she was idiot. "Well . . . That should answer your question. Good night, love."
A/N: I'd like to take up this little space in the authors note to let you all know that I am started a new story directly related to this one. It's basically a different view on Anastasia. More info to come as the time of publishing comes closer.
A/N2: Wow, that was quite some scare. When I first came to the site after it crashed, I nearly cried when I saw nothing. Huge thanks to all the big head-honchos at the site that got this thing up and running again so fast. We all owe you a bunch.
A/N3: This chapter is dedicated to Travis Barker, hoping he makes a quick recovery.
A/N4: I also want to give a shout-out to my awesome beta, and to all of my reviewers and those who favorited me. Even though about 400 reviews have disppeared off the map, I appreciate every single review that I have gotten, and thank you all for taking the time to write them. :D
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
My Road to N...