Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Humour
Day 6: Crossover
Being the two hottest bitches at Hogwarts meant that Quinn and Santana didn't often see eye to eye. They were always competing-whether it is for boys, girls, money, clothes, popularity...they were always arguing about something or another. And sadly, they had to face each other every day, seeing as they both belonged to the same house-Slytherin.
"Lucy," Santana fake-smiles at the blonde before taking a seat at Slytherin's table in the hall, conveniently opposite Quinn.
"Sandbags," Quinn snarls back. She prays that Santana won't talk to her, as she wants to enjoy breakfast without any interruptions.
"Looking forward to the Quidditch match this afternoon, Lucy? Yet another chance to gaze at moi," Santana smirks, she loves irritating Fabray. Quinn always gets incredibly pissed off and snappy, much to Santana's enjoyment.
Quinn scoffed but didn't look up from buttering her toast. Santana was not going to get to her, not again.
"Oh, babe, I know I'm sexy, but try to resist me, okay?" Santana teased, leaning forward to run a manicured fingernail gently up Quinn's bare arm. The blonde flinched slightly, the skin-on-skin contact making her body shiver and tingle in weird ways.
What the good fuck, Fabray? Sort your shit out!
"You wish," Quinn retorted lamely, before grabbing her plateful of food and storming out, heading for the Slytherin common room. If Santana followed her, she may have to kill her. She wasn't even kidding. She looked over her shoulder and was relieved to see that she was now alone, as everyone else was either still in their dorms or eating breakfast. She sighed happily and continued walking back to the common room, thoroughly enjoying the peace and quiet. Santana was pestering her pretty much 24/7 and she never got a moment's peace to herself, so she treasured this precious time.
She climbed the steep, unpredictable stairways in a quick pace, as she was afraid of someone coming along and attempting to talk to her. Sometimes, she hated being such a popular hottie. Everyone knew who Quinn Fabray was; you first hear about her on your first day at Hogwarts. Students, teachers, ghosts, she was pretty sure even Fluffy, the three-headed dog, knew her name. But she wasn't just well-known, but also well liked. Well, she says well-liked, what she means is feared. It's the same with Santana-popular, not because of her super nice personality, but because of her hotness, promiscuous ways and most importantly, the fear factor. She cuts people with her razor-sharp words, including Quinn, but she just comes up with something more offensive. Other people, however, usually run off crying, or try to pick a fight with Santana (and fail, as Santana, despite looking so slim and small, is actually incredibly strong, fast and agile. She's a pro with her wand too, but obviously she'd be in deep shit if she used it on someone).
"Password please?"
Quinn recited the rather long password, before slipping inside. She smiled to herself when she realised the common room was deserted. She made her way up the stone steps to her dorm and was glad to find that empty as well. She threw herself onto her bed and made herself comfortable, lying on her stomach, facing the door, her feet in the air. She grabbed her textbook of the surprisingly warm, stone floor before flicking to where her book mark was located. Although she wouldn't admit it to anyone, Quinn actually enjoyed studying-it relaxed her, her hazel eyes gliding over the page, absorbing knowledge.
"What up, little Lucy?"
Quinn's head snapped up to see Santana stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame, and one eyebrow raised, already smirking.
"What the fuck do you want, Sandbags?" Quinn snarled. Trust Santana to emerge just as she had gotten comfy.
"What a nice way to greet your favourite person in the whole wide world!" Santana said sarcastically and went over to sit on Quinn's bed, which irritated the poor blonde. She rolled her eyes and, assuming she wouldn't get anymore study time, closed her textbook and stuck it back under the bed.
"Well, answer my question, Lopez? What the fuck do you want?" Quinn sits up and glares at the intruder. Ugh, she is so annoying!
"Just wanted to see you, you seemed pretty pissed," Santana shrugged, studying her cuticles.
"Yeah, I wonder why,"
Santana glanced up from her nail beds to raise an eyebrow at Quinn. As if she was genuinely surprised. Um, what?
"Wait...why?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe cos you're super annoying, always breathing down my neck, calling me Lucy, putting me down, maybe that's why," Quinn snapped. Was Santana asking her for fun, or was she actually very slow and hadn't caught up with how much her words hurt?
"Sorry," There was a sudden awkward silence bwteen them, which neither seemed to know how to fill. "Going to the Quidditch match? I am playing after all," And there it was again, Santana's signature smirk, that, despite it being infuriating and smug, Quinn found kinda attractive. Who could blame her? Everyone knew Quinn wasn't the straightest girl at Hogwarts, and it was well known that Santana had a love of the ladies, and most people thought Santana was totally gay for Quinn, which Quinn always scoffed at.
"I'm not going," Quinn answers bluntly and lies back, resting her head on the fluffy pillow. She stares up at the ceiling of her four poster bed, not making eye contact with Santana. She doesn't want to go because it's cold, she's tired, she wants to study, but most of all, because of the Latina. She knows San will shamelessly flirt and charm her, attempting to seduce her, even on a broomstick. And Quinn will attempt to not fall for the girl, she'll try to ignore the winks, the lip licks, the chest thrusts. Like always.
"I'll bribe ya, Quinn," These words caused Quinn to sit up and stare at Santana, eyes wide.
"Wait...did you just call me...Quinn? You haven't called me Quinn in four years,"
Santana shrugged.
"Listen, I'll bribe ya to come, okay?"
"With what? You're totally broke cos you spent all your money on alcohol in the summer holidays, and your dad doesn't trust you with money anymore,"
"With a kiss, maybe?" Santana smirks yet again and pushes a strand of hair away from my face.
Shit.
