Written for My Dear Professor McGongall's The Sibling and Rivalry Competition Round Two.

I knew I needed to get it done or I'd just put it off and off and off. And my homework is building up, so this is the best I could do.

I hope you all enjoy it… argh.


Confide

'Just tell me.'

'No.'

'I don't see why you won't tell me.'

'I don't see why you care!'

Molly gave an impatient sigh, observing her sister with a shake of her head of long, red curls. 'I care because I would like to know what type of boys my sister permits to suck on her neck.'

'Shh!' hissed Lucy, slipping lower in her chair and glancing up and down the Gryffindor table for eavesdroppers. 'Keep your voice down!' she whispered back to her sister, her cheeks reddening as she tightened the scarf slung around her neck.

'Oh, no body cares, Lucy,' scoffed Molly with a wave of her hand. 'Now. Someone in your year. That one – Noah Smith?'

'Ew, no,' snapped Lucy. 'Why would you even – how could you-'

'Michael Wood?'

'No.'

'Allan MacMillan?'

'No.'

'The gorgeous one – with the odd brother. You know, tall? Blonde?'

Lucy bit her lip. 'You mean Lysander?'

'Yes!'

Lucy rolled her eyes. 'No, Molly. And I'm not going to tell you.'

'Why not?' demanded Molly indignantly. 'Wasn't I the one who told you what Teddy and Victoire got up to in the Prefect's bathroom?'

'Well, yes.'

'And, wasn't I the one who told Al what Rosie and the Malfoy boy were doing up in the Astronomy tower last Christmas?'

'That was you?' exclaimed Lucy. 'Oh, Rosie's going to kill you, Molly.'

Molly shrugged, and dismissed Lucy's claim with a wave of her hand.

'See, Molly, that's the problem! You're awful at keeping secrets,' scolded Lucy, her cheeks reddening to a state that contended with the red of her hair.

'Not your secrets, though,' insisted Molly. 'And no body's going to care what you've been doing.'

'What's the supposed to mean?' snapped the younger redhead.

'Lucy, the events in your ignorant little life, dictated by your ignorant little brain, are, shockingly, not that stimulating for the rest of us. Now, is it Dean Finnegan?'

Lucy glared at her sister, before slipping from the bench and getting to her feet.

'Oh, where are you going, Luce?' sighed Molly.

'Away,' she snapped. 'Why you would even – how you could ever… Smith! Even suggest Smith! And MacMillan!'

Lucy's mutters continued as she strode away from the Gryffindor table and out of the hall, Molly watching her go, breathing out a defeated sigh.

'Molly?'

Molly jumped and spun around in her seat, frowning at the younger student. 'Yes?'

Vacant silver eyes looked back into hers, a dazed smile on Lysander's face. 'I was just after Lucy. Is she around?'

'No,' said Molly shortly, a disapproving frown in place; the Scamander brothers could not be more different. Lorcan's hair was unkempt and fell below his shoulders; his robes were faded and his tie was lopsided; his shoes were scuffed; and as Molly's eyes travelled over him they jumped at something… what was on his neck?

'Thank you anyway, Molly,' said Lorcan pleasantly. He turned away from the redhead and walked slowly back to the Ravenclaw table, watched closely by Molly, who gaped after him.

Lucy was in for a world of hell.


I started off with George and Percy, and it was going to be about George resenting Percy for being with Fred when he died, while George was somewhere else. But I couldn't put it into words, so I thought, if we had characters we weren't familiar with, I'd make it a little less intense.

I really had no idea what to write for these two, so blaaaah. Sorry, Dear Professor McGongall!

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