"Wilson."
I roll on to my side. It had been a long night of essays and catch-up work, so I was in no hurry to get out of bed and start the day. There were no classes; it was Saturday after all.
"Wilson?" The voice tries again. Whoever they were, they were interrupting some much needed alone time that I so desperately craved. Why could they just not leave me alone and come back in an hour or three? It was surely only 5am!
"I realise it's a bit early but I wouldn't have been able to get you later on! You know, what with quidditch practice and well, uh, detention." He finishes sheepishly. Wait a second... he?
I roll on to my back again, still with my eyes closed. "Benji go away," I mumble, "You know you aren't allowed in here." I flail my arm out at the same time, aiming to push my brother away from the bed. "And we've talked about calling me Wilson!"
My arm finally makes contact with his body but he doesn't falter, let alone leave my bedside, instead giving a light chuckle. "Wilson, I don't know if I should be amused or offended at the fact you think I'm your brother," the voice says.
Still with my eyes closed, I frown. If it wasn't Benji, who could it be? I can't say I know too many boys outside of Ravenclaw, and none of them would even dare to come in here after the last time.
"What happened last time?"
Ah, did I say that out loud? Well, I suppose that confirms it's not any Ravenclaws.
I choose to ignore the mystery boy's question and instead ask one of my own: "Who are you?"
"Open your eyes and find out!" he says cheerfully. So he's a morning person. Unfortunate.
Begrudgingly, I do as he says and am greeted with the grinning face of James Potter. Because of course it had to be James bloody Potter, Gryffindor quidditch captain, fittest guy in school, and extreme troublemaker. Whilst I had no crush on him of my own, I could appreciate that yes, he was good looking, and he was about to witness how incredibly unattractive I was in the mornings. Not that the rest of the day was better, but I managed.
"Potter?"
"Wilson!" he smiles.
"Why are you here? How did you get in here?" I look at the door, but it's closed. The window? I opened it last night to get a bit of air into the dorm, but the gap seemed no bigger than it did previously. Did Potter seriously fly in? Scanning the room for clues, I spot his broom on the floor, and that none of my friends are in their beds. God, I must have overslept! But turning back to the matter at hand...
Potter is staring at me. He doesn't reply.
"Potter!" I click my fingers. "What do you want?"
Again, he makes no sound and continues staring. I sigh. This would've been much easier if literally anyone else was here. I shared a room with four other girls: Margot Knight, Riko Farmer, Mathilde Vincent and Jemima Clark; my closest friends. Jemima, otherwise known as Mim, had absolutely no trouble picking fights with anyone, regardless of age, height or gender. We had met on the train back in first year, where she had declared: "We're going to be best friends!" I met the rest of them when we had all been sorted into Ravenclaw, as excited little 11 year olds sleeping away from home for the first time. I'm sure any of them would know what to do in this situation, but alas.
"POTTER!"
Finally he snaps out of it, his cheeks ever so slightly blushing. Wow, did I just embarrass the great James Potter? The girls would love to hear about this later. He regains his composure and claps his hands together. I can feel him about to ask for some class notes or something - it wasn't uncommon to be asked for them due to being in Ravenclaw, but I've certainly never been woken up for them.
"Ah, sorry Wilson. Anyway, what I wanted to know was if you wanted to be friends?" He says simply.
"If... what?" Not class notes then.
"Do you want to be friends?" repeats Potter.
I sit up, and look at him properly for the first time. His dark hair is unkempt, pieces sticking out in all different directions. A small spattering of freckles are spread across his cheeks, just below his warm brown eyes outlined with long eyelashes. Why was it that boys got such lovely, curly, natural eyelashes but my ones are barely existent? I suddenly felt very self conscious in my old tank top and pyjama shorts - here he was looking like that, and I looked like this. Whilst I wasn't terrible-looking, I certainly wasn't on his level of being worshipped by everyone at this school. I could understand why girls wanted to be with him, and why boys literally wanted to be him.
"Potter, I don't know what you're playing at. We've barely spoken, and you don't know me at all."
This had to be another one of his stupid tricks. Just last week he charmed all of the teachers' chairs in the great hall to make sure none of the teachers could get up - earning him presumably what had been a long line of detentions, including this afternoon's. Potter was, annoyingly, clever. Although not the only troublemaker in his group of Gryffindors, he was admittedly one of the smartest, second only to Emil Larsson. I knew Emil, he was a good family friend and also a fellow prefect. I didn't speak to him much outside of lessons, but when we were occasionally scheduled for prefect duties together, we got along perfectly well due to numerous holiday visits.
Again, he smiles. "You see, it was pointed out recently that I don't have any friends that aren't related to me or in Gryffindor."
I open my mouth to interject, but he continues talking.
"I know, I know, I have a number of acquaintances in other houses but none of them are particularly close to me. That doesn't really look good on me as a good quidditch captain, who has repeatedly been asked to encourage some... inter-house unity." I notice his struggle to get those last words out. I mean, I couldn't argue with him there, indeed he was always surrounded by his dorm-mates and failing that, his family members. Yet still, the Hogwarts population was rife with Potter fans waiting for him to initiate friendship. However, I was cautious.
"Why me? You had the entire year to choose from! I'm really not that interesting. I just sit and read books and do homework all the time!"
At this point I'm just blabbering, but it's true. In our last year here I was planning on getting excellent NEWT grades, because I want to be a healer. My mother was a healer as well, but she had unfortunately passed away after... well, I won't go into it. But she inspires me every day, and I just want to make her proud. I doubt making friends with James Potter would rouse any sort of pride in her.
"You're friends with Emil aren't you? He tells me and the boys some funny stories about what you get up to in the holidays. You seem alright to me." Potter shrugs. Oh dear Merlin, what exactly did this guy know about me? I must remember to question Emil later on about these alleged stories.
"What's my name then?"
"What?" That throws him off guard.
"You've heard a lot about me, right? So what. Is. My. Name." I deliver with four pokes to his arm.
"Uhhh... Yeah it's Cecily, isn't it?" Potter guesses, rubbing his arm where I jabbed my finger.
"You want to be friends and you don't even know my name!" I say rolling my eyes. He was fairly close though; my name is Celia. I was named by my father as he loved this muggle playwright called William something-or-other, and she was one of the characters in a play he wrote.
I get out of bed using the side that he isn't blocking. Although I am hyperaware of Potter's presence, I decide that I will go on with my day as usual, and step into the bathroom. Well, I suppose I feel kind of sorry for him in a way. His only friends are his family - I'd hate it if my only friend was Benji. Poking my head out I say, "I'll think about it."
Potter grins at me and I close the door.
When I've finished showering and dressing, I go back into the bedroom and am again greeted with the sight of Potter. Lying on my bed.
"Just because we're friends does not mean you can claim my bed as your own." I grumble, "Potter, get off, I thought you left already!"
His eyes light up like he's just won a prize. "Wait, you said we were fr- Thank you so much! Call me James!"
"That's quite alright, Potter. My name is Celia. Call me Wilson." And with that, I exit the dormitory and go to breakfast, leaving Potter to celebrate our newfound friendship in the Ravenclaw girls' dormitory. Hopefully the girls are down in the Great Hall, so I can relay the whole story to them.
What a strange morning.
so i thought i'd try writing again! i have written some truly awful stories in my time but i won't go into that haha. if anyone is reading, please let me know your thoughts by leaving a review! what do you think will happen next? thank you so much!