D/C: I don't own Harry Potter & related characters, or even Legolas
Greenleaf (aww.!@#$!), they belong to people with lawyers, attorneys and
copy writes so please don't sue me,(besides I'm kind of low on cash at the
moment!) anyways please read and review. And another note, I don't own
Creed, so I'm kinda depressed about that.
Book 2, Chpt. 1
Three hours later after that last occurrence, I sat bewildered at the Christmas Feast. His words still echoing in my ears as I try to concentrate on the annual Dumbledore Christmas Speech. Sitting with a friend of mine from Ravenclaw, a real talker, I try to decipher exactly what he meant. Does he really feel the same way that I feel about me? Worse than that, did he mean that we would be the best of friends forever? In each other's company forever? Only he knew.
"What's up?" she asks, when I don't answer her question. "Oh, what were you saying?" "Never mind," is her answer. "Dumbledore is going to finish his speech. Remember, he has a surprise for the students who stayed over the Break?" As if on cue, Dumbledore answered the question. "And for your surprise, there will be a Muggle concert in London on New Years Day. As I recall, this band is very popular around the world. On one condition: you must wear your Muggle clothes." "What band will be playing, Professor?" was asked by Legolas. "Oh, yes. I've heard all the girls fawn over them. Has anyone ever heard of Scott Stapp?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "By golly," I say (I don't know what Muggles in England say when something is particularly looking up for them. Never mind.) "Omigosh! Is Creed really going to be there?!" I exclaim. "Yes Lyn they will be there, in London. An all night rendezvous I believe," explained Professor Hayes says, with a girlish gleam fluttering about in her eyes. The rest of the Feast went by in a blur as well as the next three days. The next thing I remembered was a stroll on the grounds. Gliding over the crisp snow, I run into Him. The crisp clean snow under our feet, we walk around the deserted Quidditch field. He breaks the silence. "I'm just going to come out and ask you, do you have a date for the concert next week?" he asks, his grin that I love spreading slowly across his face.
Damn, once again, doncha love cliffies?
Book 2, Chpt. 1
Three hours later after that last occurrence, I sat bewildered at the Christmas Feast. His words still echoing in my ears as I try to concentrate on the annual Dumbledore Christmas Speech. Sitting with a friend of mine from Ravenclaw, a real talker, I try to decipher exactly what he meant. Does he really feel the same way that I feel about me? Worse than that, did he mean that we would be the best of friends forever? In each other's company forever? Only he knew.
"What's up?" she asks, when I don't answer her question. "Oh, what were you saying?" "Never mind," is her answer. "Dumbledore is going to finish his speech. Remember, he has a surprise for the students who stayed over the Break?" As if on cue, Dumbledore answered the question. "And for your surprise, there will be a Muggle concert in London on New Years Day. As I recall, this band is very popular around the world. On one condition: you must wear your Muggle clothes." "What band will be playing, Professor?" was asked by Legolas. "Oh, yes. I've heard all the girls fawn over them. Has anyone ever heard of Scott Stapp?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "By golly," I say (I don't know what Muggles in England say when something is particularly looking up for them. Never mind.) "Omigosh! Is Creed really going to be there?!" I exclaim. "Yes Lyn they will be there, in London. An all night rendezvous I believe," explained Professor Hayes says, with a girlish gleam fluttering about in her eyes. The rest of the Feast went by in a blur as well as the next three days. The next thing I remembered was a stroll on the grounds. Gliding over the crisp snow, I run into Him. The crisp clean snow under our feet, we walk around the deserted Quidditch field. He breaks the silence. "I'm just going to come out and ask you, do you have a date for the concert next week?" he asks, his grin that I love spreading slowly across his face.
Damn, once again, doncha love cliffies?
