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Bad Faith by WitchingWorld
Chapter 12 : A Shrine to Dana Belby
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1


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“To Cherry,
Miss Pretensious, you think there’s no one smarter
Well I am coming first in Herbology, for a starter
You’re a priggish know-it-all, who no one can bear
‘Cause you are just a buttbunch – No one likes a buttbunch!
And your head is full of ai-ai-ai-ai-aiiirrrrrr!


Love Jack”

 

As the barbershop quartet of singing dwarfs, dressed in golden wings, exited after delivering the Valentine, Rose stood rooted to the spot of the seventh floor corridor getting redder and redder by the second.

Just when she appeared on the verge of exploding, Rose took a deep breath, as if to calm her rage.

But really, it was an inhalation of ammunition; one needed oxygen in order to competently shriek.

 

“SCORPIUS HYPERION MALFOY – that’s right I used your full name – WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH! HOW HAVE YOU ESCAPED BEING MURDERED?! HIDE WHILE YOU CAN, BECAUSE WHEN I FIND YOU, THE CRUCIATUS CURSE WILL BE THE MILDEST FORM OF TORTURE I’LL USE TO PREEMPTIVELY SIMULATE THE ETERNITY IN HELL YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN SENTENCED TO FOR THIS BLEEDING PRANK!”

 


Out of every prank Rose had suffered throughout her third year, this Valentine Sam had sent her was by far the worst.

That was when she decided. She was going to cut off his head in his sleep.

The fourteenth of February was not looking kindly upon Rose, and the large crowd which filled the corridor laughed raucously as she stormed off to Arithmancy, with Annie and Jen vowing to help with her revenge prank, and Bee lending an ear and supporting the horrific and intensive physical torture Rose had planned for Sam.

But violence wasn’t the only thing Rose had up her sleeve.

 

As of their third year, Sam and Al had endured several growth spurts, extended periods of voice cracking and the overall awkwardness that is puberty.

While this assisted in their entry onto their House Quidditch teams (Sam as a beater and Al as a seeker) it also brought a new perspective on girls, of which Rose intended to use to her advantage.

Oh, what was that? Girls are potential romantic interests now? How convenient.
Now, any third-year student who hadn’t been living under a rock for the last two-and-a-half years knew that Kyle Turpin was Hogwarts’ residential gossip.

A fourth-year Ravenclaw with curls, blue eyes and an inability to shut up, Kyle spread rumours instantly and destructively.

Rose was a resourceful girl, and she knew exactly how she was going to get back at Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy for her atrocious Valentine’s Day.

 

                ~              ~               ~          ~           ~        ~         ~

 

Sam and Rose sat in Muggle Studies conscientiously taking notes about ‘the internet,’ the day following Sam’s week-long stay in the hospital wing after Rose slyly bombarded him with multiple Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products and hexes at dinner on Valentine’s Day without getting caught.

It was at this point that the whispers reached Sam’s ears and he rolled his eyes.
Lately a lot of whispers had been following him, not to mention titters of glee as the students discussed the latest rumour surrounding Sam Malfoy.

He hadn’t heard the specifics of the rumour, but he was sure it was as ridiculous as the last (apparently he danced ritually in the Forbidden Forest clothed in underwear he had managed to steal from the seventh year boys’ dormitory).

The rumour that was currently circulating was actually Sam’s stalker-ish love of Dana Belby, a fellow third-year Slytherin.

 

 

Dana was almost universally acknowledged as the loveliest girl in third year.

She wasn’t particularly talented in any one field.

She couldn’t play Quidditch and she had never topped a class.

Dana Belby was an altogether average girl, except for being the absolute nicest person anyone had ever been.

She was friends with practically everyone in the school, always had a nice thing to say and no matter how mean anyone ever was, Dana would just smile and offer them a chocolate frog.

 

It was almost too easy for Rose to simply inform Kyle Turpin that Sam was deeply in love with Dana, swear him to secrecy and let the magic happen.

Rose then craftily made sure none of their friends told Sam what the rumour was about.

Annie, Bee and Jen willingly went out of their way to keep Sam in the dark, assisting in Rose’s plot as promised, and Rose convinced Al and the Slytherins, Corey, Greg and Adam, by saying that ‘telling Sam would only embarrass him further.’

The Slytherin boys had truly become a part of their group, to the whole school’s, and even their own, surprise.

If it wasn’t for the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry that had emerged a thousand years ago after Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor’s fight, students probably would’ve realised how complimentary Gryffindor and Slytherin personalities were (Godric and Salazar were best friends to begin with, you know before the whole murdering muggle-borns thing…).



When Jen and Annie wanted to pull a prank on Fred and James, Corey and Adam had the resourcefulness to pick apart the flaws in their plans before cunningly adding wicked solutions, and when Bee had all but given up on handing her potions homework in on time Greg, who was rather brilliant at potions, would determinedly stay up all night with her to help.

And of course all of them were united in their blatant disregard of the school rules.
Speaking of breaking school rules, Rose could hardly wait for her big reveal; divulging to Sam that she had completely fabricated and spread the ridiculous rumour concerning Dana Belby!



This meant Sam had suffered the best part of two weeks slightly disconcerted (especially in the Slytherin common room, or whenever he and Dana happened to make eye contact), frustrated (he was sick of being surrounded by whispers which always seemed to stop as soon as he entered a room) and most-deliciously, completely ignorance as to who was responsible.

His most pressing concern however, was Al’s sudden misery.

While it might just have been a slump of moodiness, Al had never been so unhappy for such a long period of time and it was starting to worry Sam.

Al wasn’t eating properly, he switched speedily from furious to sulky, he hadn’t completed his homework in weeks and he refused to talk to Sam except to snap at him about something.

 



So Sam decided to take advantage of Muggle Studies, Rose’s and his one shared class without Al, which Rose chose on Hermione’s recommendation (learning from the wizarding perspective is highly interesting Rosie!), to ask her about it.

Slowly, so as not to attract the attention of Professor Derwent, Sam leaned his head closer and closer to Rose’s, then whispered softly into her ear.

“Rose.” She ignored him, so he tried again.

“Rose.” Still nothing.

“Ro-ose,” he sang.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, but finding it distinctly uncomfortable to have a face in such proximity to her own, Rose hissed back, “Shut up Malfoy, I’m trying to concentrate.”

Sam picked up her nearest plait, tugged on it a few times, and when she still didn’t respond, started using the end of it to ever so lightly stroke Rose’s neck while continuously whispering, “Rose.”

 



Rose’s jaw clenched as a funny feeling in her stomach seemed to erupt as Sam’s breath and the end of her braid tickled her neck.

“You better quit that if you want the option of ever having children, Malfoy,” Rose spat through clenched teeth.

But Sam just grinned, continuing to tickle her until she grabbed his hand, quivering with rage, “You are so lucky I hate detention more than I would enjoy blasting you to the other side of this classroom. What do you want?”

Sam pulled his hand away and whispered, “Do you know why Al’s been so pissy lately?”

“No. I noticed, but I’ve no idea what it’s about. Why don’t you just ask him you moron?”

Sam scowled, “Don’t you think I would have, if I could? He seems to be even sulkier around me. Clams right up, and won’t say a word.”

“And what’s that got to do with me?”

 



Sam looked melodramatically at her, as if she had asked him to murder his mother, “You have to ask him about it for me, of course.”

“And why would I do that?” Rose responded drily.

In a much more serious tone Sam responded, “Because you know he’s unhappy, and you love him.”

Sighing heavily, Rose agreed, “Fine, I’ll talk to him about it. Now can you let me get back to work?”

“Sure thing Cherry.”

One day, she was going to figure out that code name connection. Hopefully.
 


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