Everything changed for James Potter on one dreary day walking to Quidditch practice.
If there was one thing that he never believed he would see, it was Cecily Finnigan crying her eyes out next to the lake. He had never seen her like that... Puffy eyed and tear stained cheeks. He felt a bit of shock inside of him, wondering a million things a minute. Before he had time to voice any of the things that he was thinking inside of his head, Cecily got up and began to walk towards him.
They locked eyes for a moment, her blue eyes and his brown ones. Her jaw clenched slightly and she walked past him, shoving him with her shoulder. "Tell anyone you saw me here, and you'll never be able to play Quidditch again." She promised, a menacing tone in her voice, but not the playful under tone that usually laid their with it. James stood their a bit dumbfounded, but didn't say anything as he began to walk the opposite way.
Three hours later, James cleared his throat as he entered the Gryffindor common room. Rose sat hunched over a piece of parchment before she looked up and blew some hair out of her face. "Hi, James," She smiled a little. "You alright?"
He shrugged and sat down in the arm chair next to hers, leaning his head back and looking up at the ceiling. "Yeah," He said, a dreary tone clinging onto his words. "Where's Scorpius?"
"Quidditch practice with Al. Where's whoever you're sleeping with these days?" A triumphant smirk was placed upon her lips. James always teased her, but every now and again she would slip a good jab in at him.
Even he seemed able to appreciate it, because he chuckled. "There's no one. No one lately." he looked at Rose's shocked face.
Her hand was placed upon her chest. "James Potter? Not a womanizer?!" She covered her mouth with her hand. "I would say I didn't believe you had it in you, but I truly did. You aren't the asshole everyone makes you out to be, Jamie."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're the only one who thinks so," He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, uh... Do you know what's happened with Cecily? Cecily Finnigan?"
Rose quirked an eyebrow. "Cecily Finnigan, as in your Cecily? The Cecily Finnigan you have a known rivalry with?" She seemed to forgot about her homework, as it now sat on the table in front of her untouched. "I guess Lysander dumped her. That's rubbish if you ask me, but she isn't the nicest girl ever. She's quite rude, really."
James eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Cecily was dating Lysander Scamander? The bloke can barely form a coherent sentence. She's Ravenclaw, yeah? You'd think she would have a bit higher standards than that." he huffed and sat up.
"Why do you care? You two hate each other." Rose stated simply. It was true. James Potter and Cecily Finnigan hadn't gotten along from day one.
"Dan!" A young girl screamed, running down the hallway in the Hogwarts Express. "Dan, give me Iggy!" she pleaded, referring to the kitten she had gotten in Diagon Alley. He was a fluffy calico, and thoroughly adorable in every way, shape, and form.
"James, hold the cat, yeah? It'll piss my sister off," Dan Finnigan, third year, asked James.
James, being a thirteen year old, immature, boy, did this eagerly. Cecily ran up to him. Even then, he barely came up to his neck, but she shoved him regardless. "Give me the cat," she demanded, opening her hands to him.
"And why should I do that?" he glanced at Dan, who was smirking. "I don't even know you."
She threw her blonde locks over her shoulder, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm Cecily. You're James. Now we know each other. Now give him back, he's a living creature and I'm sure he doesn't like being in sweaty boy palms."
"Fine," he set him on the ground and he scampered off. "There. He's back to you. Farewell, Finnigan. Have fun."
Her eyes narrowed in his direction for a split second. "I don't like you, Potter." she clenched her jaw. "Remember that the next time you see me on the Quidditch pitch beating your sorry arse."
She then proceeded to running off after her cat. James assumed that someone must have caught him, because she was repeatedly thanking someone and laughing with them. "She's got brat syndrome."
"Ugly brat syndrome." James corrected, smirking. If there was one thing he knew, it was that whatever she had said about the Quidditch pitch was empty threats. If there were two things he knew, it was that and that he was going to make Hogwarts hell for her if it was the last thing that he did.
And he had been for the last five years. Relentlessly, really. But when she managed to stay true to her word about Quidditch, even he would admit that she was an outstanding beater. That much was obvious.
People say that boys pick on girls because they pick on them. That trait must have stayed with James for awhile, because no matter what he wanted to say about her or say about their weird and mean relationship, he couldn't help but smile to himself whenever she got a rather good hit at someone or a wicked swerve or even a good comeback to something he said to her.
So, yes. He was beginning to admit it.
James had a crush on the little Irish girl.
Cecily found herself crying next to the lake more than usual these days.
It seemed like the tears would never stop. They ran down her face in heavy streams, staining it. Her eyes were red and puffy, and currently buried in her hands. She sat where she always did when she was upset: the lake. But that probably wasn't a good idea, when this place was the place she had her first kiss. First kiss with Lysander. First kiss with the boy who broke her heart. She shouldn't have been so upset with that to begin with- they both agreed that this was only going to be a fling. A short fling at that. She just wasn't expecting to get so… attached to him. It wasn't love. Well, he was her first love in a way, but it wasn't anything too serious. So what was it that made her cry?
Just as she was about to let out another body-wracking sob, she heard someone approaching. Looking tentatively over her shoulder, she let out an emotionless laugh and turned back towards the water. Of course, out of all the people in the bloody school, it would be him who would find her. James Potter- the biggest prat she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting. They'd had a few spats over the course of the year already, mostly over Quidditch. (Including her rubbing it in his face when Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor.) She'd despised him ever since they had met when she was in her first year and he was in his third. He teased her, everyone at the time teased her. She was short and incredibly petite and just… weak looking. Once she became a beater and he got a bludger to the head because of her, that teasing stopped, but the challenging began.
"Finnigan?" he asked, like it was the strangest thing in the world. Cecily Finnigan crying. She never cried- ever. It was a known fact. Everyone in her year, fifth, in Ravenclaw agreed that she was the strongest girl they had ever met, how no one has ever seen her cry. James couldn't believe that he was rumored to be the first. "Why are you crying?" He could hear he scoff again, and could barely see her shake her head. "Oh, like you care! You hate me, remember? Just leave me be, Potter. I have less patience than normal at the moment." her voice were poisonous, like venom was dripping from her every word. He furrowed his brows and lowered himself a few feet next to her. "Calm down, Finnigan. I'm not gonna bash you tonight." he paused and looked at her, taking her appearance in. He'd never seen her this broken. Cecily always matched his insults with one ten times worse, never letting him beat her. Was always known as fierce, especially towards him. She was a fighter. Who had the power to make her this sad? "It was Lysander wasn't it?"
She eyed him carefully, narrowing her baby blues at him. "How'd you guess?" she sneered. Everyone seemed to find out about her and the Scamander twin. Even her brothers, who weren't very happy with it. They were only together for a month before he broke things off with her. "You know what the worst part is? I trusted him. I actually thought that he wouldn't hurt me, even when he told me that it would eventually happy! I'm so fucking stupid." she looked over at him, meeting his dark eyes. "I'm sure you agree with me on that." she offered him a fake smile and began to stand up. "This has been a lovely chat, Potter, but I'm going to go cry myself to sleep. See you on the pitch."
James did something that surprised her. Hell, it surprised himself. He stood up and caught her hand. "I don't think you're stupid, and I don't hate you. If we're being honest here, I was intimidated by you more than anything. You're young, fast, smart, a bloody brilliant Quidditch player. You're one of the only girls besides my family that doesn't fall at my feet. It's refreshing, different. You're different. Don't sell yourself so short, Finnigan. You're beautiful, too beautiful for someone your age. Don't let someone, especially Lysander Scamander, take advantage of that. Don't let him hurt you. I always hear you talking about how you want someone to see you as something more than tough or 'cute'. Well, I guess you can say that I'm that someone."
They both noticed at the same time that he still had a grip on her hand, and he tentatively let go and scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks, Potter." she whispered, wiping away a few of the tears that were on her cheeks. "What does this make us? Friends?" she asked nervously. She caught his smirk, and he nodded his head. "Friends."
They stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments. She held her breath and looked away from him, rubbing one of her eyes then looking back at him. "You're being strangely nice to me today."
He scoffed and sat down, patting the spot beside him. "You should have more faith in me, Finnigan."
Cecily rolled her eyes. "When you called me an ugly brat for years, I'll be honest, I never had an inch of faith in you." Her tone was a bit bitter and forced. "You really ought to apologize."
"You weren't the nicest to me either. Me or my house. My family even." James retorted, crossing his legs.
She glared at him a bit. "I've been nothing but nice to your family! The only person from your family who's an absolute prat is you." There they were, back to bickering. She paused and stared down at her knees. "We aren't very good at this friends thing."
"No help from you," He reminded her. "I guess no help from the 'absolute prat' either."
Cecily started laughing. And soon enough, James was laughing. And they fell back on the grass in little fits of laughter. Once they finally got their breath back, they looked over at one another. "I'm sorry." Cecily finally confessed. "I can be a bitch sometimes."
"I'm sorry too," He looked up at the sky, then back at her. "You aren't ugly or a brat."
She laughed. "That makes me feel a lot better." She teased before looking up at the sky.
This was a big step for the two.
James walked into the Gryffindor common room with a huge smile on his face. Albus sat in the common room playing Wizard's Chess with Scorpius. "Ello, Al. Scorpius." James plopped down onto the couch. The two friends gave each other a quizzical look before Albus spoke up. "What's got you so chipper?" His younger brother asked him.
"He was pining after Cecily Finnigan," Rose commented as she walked down from the girls dormitories and sat in the chair next to him. James gave her a stunned look. "Joanna Parkinson is spreading it around, I guess she saw you guys."
"Oh," He didn't really care if anyone saw him with her. They were... friends. "I wasn't pining after her, either."
Rose smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? James, when have you ever been just friends with a girl? Never. That's when."
Scorpius nodded his head in agreement, looking over at Rose. Rose shrugged her shoulders. "Say whatever you want, Jamie. You and I both know that you just wanna take her to bed."
James smirked. "Maybe I do, Rosie. Maybe I do."
Victoire was having a bit of a dilemma. It wasn't a big dilemma necessarily, but it wasn't something that she should go around screaming to the world. Or even to her ridiculously large and nosy family.
The truth of the matter was, Victoire had always felt like the Weasley-Delacour who never had her moment to shine. She was the only redheaded one. The only one who had actually stuck to her studies during her time at Hogwarts. She was the boring one, Victoire thought herself as. But if people found out about this, dilemma, she was having, it was quite possible that she may lose that good girl, boring girl reputation for good.
Yes, Victoire Weasley was currently cheating on Teddy Lupin.
And, yes, it is his best friend.
And, to make matters worse, he is currently working at Hogwarts as an assistant professor. Making this little rendezvous of theirs very, very illegal.
And, no. Victoire is not proud of herself at this very moment in time.
She stared down at the letter that he had sent her. Teddy was two years older than Victoire, while Jack- or as she should call him, Professor Donohue, was four years older than Victoire. When you think of it, the age gap isn't all that outlandish. She's seventeen, almost eighteen, and he's twenty-one. So what.
Oh, right. The 'what' was that every possible force in the entire universe was seemingly plotting against them so that they have to tackle every obstacle imaginable. Right.
Dear Teddy,
I'm glad to hear that you auror training is going well! Things have been okay at Hogwarts. Albus and Scorpius are still on the Quidditch team. Rose is still entirely oblivious to how Scorp feels. Dom is still herself, but I'm sure you've been talking to her. James is still sleeping around. Professor Donohue is a wonder instructor, but I'm sure you've been talking to him, too... Head Girl duties are rather tedious, but you know all about those.
I hope things pick up soon. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. Things have been too similar to the past seven years, nothing changing... Maybe that's best, though.
Anyways. I love you. I hope to hear from, if not see, you soon!
Yours Always,
Victoire.
Carefully, she set down her quill and got the letter ready to send. This was the first set of letters they had exchanged since Victoire had slept with Jack. The gnawing guilt growing at the pit of her stomach like vines on a fence of an abandoned home made her feel sick.
The worst part of it all was that she would do it again.