There's The Sun, Then There's The Moon
DISCLAIMER: anything you recognise isnt mine :(
A girl with hair mirroring the blazing fire in front of her, sat laughing amongst her friends, they were taking it in turns to take something out of a brown paper bag and put it in their mouths, they would then suddenly burst into a fit of giggles or start doing an Irish jig. Now for some this might be an unusual occurrence but for the rest of their house, well they were pretty much used to this by now, Rose and her friends were always testing out the latest Weasley products for her uncle George and cousin Fred and so had learnt to ignore the laughter and explosions that often came from their place by the fire.
A boy sat studiously, his head bent over his work, and his bleached blonde locks sometimes falling into his eyes, occasionally he would stop writing to tap his quill on the table and click his fingers. People walked by him, forgetting he was there, he blended in with the scenery and after 4 years of constant study at a table that was now regarded as not useable by the rest of Gryffindor house.
She would walk into a room and make it instantly brighter, people felt happier in her presense and very few often wished to be rid of it.
He would quietly scuttle into the shadows so as not to draw attention to himself, he would then run a hand through his hair as he was safely in without so much as turning a head.
She was constantly surrounded by friends and often would be accompanied by a smart looking boy holding her hand or was hanging on her every word and compliment as if it was his oxygen.
He was always left alone, never so much as spoken two words together to anyone who didn't ask and normally that was only about school work, a topic he was most fluent in.
On Hogsmede weekends, she would amongst a gaggle of girls discussing the latest brand of foundation and what they were going to do in the holidays.
He would walk alone to the shrieking shack and hide amongst the trees and read by himself.
In the evenings she would dash of to quidditch practise with the rest of the team, all of them laughing and discussing tactics, she would return an hour and a half later covered in mud, her radiating laugh flooding the common room.
At 6:30pm sharp every night he would clear the table he sat at and make his way to the library, two and a half hours later he would re-emerge having being ushered out by Madam Pince, he would then clutch his extra load of five or six more books closer to his chest as hid in a small alcove waiting for the quidditch team to pass. Then he could safely enter the common room, unnoticed and slip back into the shadows, waiting till the usual feeling of nausea hit him like a brick.
At night she would sit up until endless hours with her dorm mates talking and laughing about crushes, fit boys and dares.
He would draw the curtains around his bed and pull the covers over his head so no one would disturb him from his dreamless sleeps.
In the morning she would wake early and have a shower, put a light cover of make-up and her uniform on and make her way down to breakfast with her friends, excited about the day ahead. Half way through her toast she would realise she had forgotten to do her assignment and dash back to the common room to scrawl meaningless words onto her foot long piece of parchment.
He would wake up at the crack of dawn, jump in the shower then go for a morning walk around the grounds, sometimes sending a letter to his a parents about what a lovely time he was having and how well he was doing in classes.
Then first lesson, she would strut in five minutes late brandishing her assignment, her once perfect face, covered in spots of ink. People around her would muffle laughter as she embarrassedly would walk up to the professor apologising profusely for being late. They would sigh and notice the still wet ink of the parchment but not say anything to the girl with the big brown eyes and blazing red hair in front of them.
He would of course arrive first to every class, his homework neatly tucked away in his folder, not even the corners of the parchment folded, he would present his work on the teachers desk smile nervously and scarper to his seat.
The next day she would get her work back and look slightly disappointed with her grade A but happiness taking over her thoughts as she jokes with her friends saying 'at least it's not a T.'
He would be silently crossing his fingers under the desk and his breathing would become heavy as the professor got ever closer, then, as always he would let out a sigh of relief as they said, 'excellent work Mr Malfoy, take 20 points for Gryffindor.'
On Friday evenings she stood amongst all her friends at their usual place by the fire, steam coming out of her ears and the whole house jeering her on. She smiled radiantly at them all and turned round. Her gaze fell on a boy with hair brighter than the moon, he was sitting on his own in the shadows.
He felt her eyes boring into his back as he turned round to see who was disturbing him from his books.
She noticed the boy turn to look at her and she smiled welcomingly at him.
He gulped and smiled nervously back.
She beckoned for him to come over and join the crowd.
He shook his head weakly and waved his parchment in the air.
Ever since that night, she always takes the time to smile at him from across the common room or in class and even in the great hall, everytime she beckons him over but each time he waves his work back at her, smiling nervously.
Scorpius Malfoy hasn't had the courage to go up and talk to her yet, but he is hoping he will find it one day, after all she is everything he not, her charm, her confidence, her sense of humour and with her red hair, mirroring the blazing fire in front of her, he pushed his books to one side and leant back in his chair watching her leap up and down and laugh. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.
thoughts and reviews are appreciated :)
thanks for reading! and sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, spelling isnt one of my strong points
hippogriff love to you all over and out
theressomethingaboutthemoon x