Another Teddy story. He's growing on me.
"I am not mean, dammit!" I yelled at a group of first year Hufflepuffs who had cowered when I walked past, glowering. Yes, I was glowering, but that didn't mean I was going to curse a few first years to make myself feel better.
Damn green. Damn silver. Damn the stupid Sorting Hat, which decided to put me in this House in the first place.
Ambitious and cunning is not what comes to mind when most people think of Slytherin. More like 'mean', 'selfish', 'rich', and 'cowardly'. Thank you Draco Malfoy.
I was smart. I was brave (until dragon's were brought into the picture). Why not Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, oh great Hat? Hmm? Too busy making up a new song, were you?
The Hufflepuffs started giggling among themselves, and I yelled again. "Not mean!"
With perfect timing, as always, Teddy Lupin sidled around the corner. He snorted and said, "You're Slytherin, aren't you, Herliman?"
Before he could blink, there was a distinctly menacing stick pressed against his throat. I grinned. "A mean person would have you on the ground growing a tail by now."
"Well aren't you a right saint?" he laughed. His laugh was easy and confident, and gave me a weak tingling in the area behind my naval. I wrote it off to the shepard's pie I had during dinner. The peas had looked a little wonky. He laughed again, unconcerned by my shaky wand, and added, "Saint Anne. Nice ring to it."
"Shut up, Theodore," I growled.
"I thought you wanted me to say you weren't mean?" he grinned angelically. His hair slowly changed from deep purple spikes to a tousled blond mop; his eyes from brown to blue.
"I know I'm not mean, I just felt like threatening you into behaving." He chuckled at the irony. His scarlet and gold tie seemed to burn my eyes. "And just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't necessitate that I have to be mean."
"Right. 'For you Slytherin lot, ambition and cunning need not be taught,'" he quoted. I recognized the line from the Sorting Hat's song the year we had been sorted. His features then morphed into something I recognized as my own face. He said in a ridiculously high-pitched voice, "'I'm Anne Herliman. I'm not mean! I just enjoy putting innocent Gryffindors at wand-tip."
The purple hair, brown eyes, and maleness soon returned to him. He winked and asked, "Sound familiar?"
I slowly lowered my wand. Relief flickered in his eyes. Then my fist connected with his jaw.
"Ow!" Surprisingly enough, the exclamation of pain was not from Teddy but from me. His jaw was harder than I had imagined.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Did my face hurt your fist?"
"Yes! It di-"
I was cut off when his lips pressed against mine. They moved gently against my unyielding mouth. One of his hands brushed against my cheek.
Finally, I gathered up enough sense to push him off of me. He stood less than a foot in front of me, grinning cheekily and looking extremely pleased with himself.
"What was that for?" I yelled at him.
"Didn't want you to punch me again," he shrugged. Then he turned around and resumed his journey down the hallway.
Watching him saunter away, I muttered, "If I were mean, the squid would have company with purple hair."
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