First off, thank you to Q3Apo, Teenage Mouse, MissSkulduggeryPleasant, InvaderPey, and Kosaji for reviewing. You guys rock.
The image for this belongs to Haku. Check out her tumblr at rockets. Tumblr. Com She has the most incredible USUK art.
Hope you guys enjoy
The following day was somehow colder, but then this was December wasn't it? Snow piled everywhere in monstrous mounds, except for the walkways and the Quidditch grounds which had been charmed for the student's pleasure. Of course that didn't mean that there wasn't any snow there, it just meant that it didn't come up to their calves or knees. The students meandered through the corridors, chatting incessantly on the stairs and outside of the classroom doors as they went through their day. Hardly any attention being paid to another blonde haired Slytherin boy as he lurked around the corners, his face drawn in an anxious and weary way.
Strangely enough, not a word was said to the green-eyed Brit as carried on about his day. He had considered skipping classes, but truth be told, it wasn't worth quite the effort. He would have to have a legitimate excuse to skip classes in a school that he lived in. Frankly, he didn't exactly want to go and eat one of those charmed sweets just to make himself puke for twelve hours just so he could avoid confrontation.
One of the pleasurable things about being a seventh year was that the students were able to choose what classes they wished to take. There were obviously a few mandatory classes, but there was only one class where the House rivals were forced to see each other by their own mistaken election. Oddly enough, it was Muggle Studies. Why the pure-blood Slytherin was taking the class seemed suspicious to everyone and he was kept under careful scrutiny from his peers. Alfred on the other hand was rumored to be a half-blood and of course being the people pleaser that he was, he would take the class. However, the Gryffindor refused to discuss his heritage – quite possibly the only thing he never talked about.
In all honesty, Arthur had expected uproar in the school over the conversation that he and Alfred had in the Library, but he was met with nothing. No whispers, no rumors; well, no new ones that is. He was almost sure that a few of Alfred's fans followed him around just so they could hear him say something nasty and use it against him. The sun outside shone blindingly bright against the pure white of the snow that littered the ground. It hadn't snowed anymore that entire morning but it was far too cold for it all to melt. No, Arthur could almost feel the freeze from outside in his bones, causing him to shiver slightly in his seat as his peridot eyes stayed trained on the window to his left.
"Mr. Kirkland!" He snapped to attention and looked towards the professor, a petite woman with kind azure eyes and understanding ways. "What are the top sports in the Muggle world, if you please?"
"Football, Cricket, Field-Hockey, Tennis and Volleyball." The boredom in the young male's voice was apparent, his normally vibrant eyes clouded over as he droned off the answers. A few frowns littered some student's faces as he listed off the correct answers and then proceeded to look back out the window. The Alfred F. Jones Fan Club had honestly hoped that the ghastly boy would get the answers wrong and be horribly embarrassed so they could mock him later.
One of the young girls (a fifth year) glanced towards their idol who was sitting on the Gryffindor's side of the room, his sky blue eyes watching the pale Slytherin boy with a ghost of a smile on his lips. Oh, he must be plotting something on how to humiliate him, she thinks, her brilliant mind beginning to scheme as she shares a knowing look between some of the other club members. Oh, they would most certainly get their idol's enemy… and perhaps he would be so thankful he would ask her to the Yule Ball? A girl can only dream, she thinks as she finds herself drifting off into a dreamy haze of herself dancing with the handsome seventh year.
Days passed and the snow only fell harder, but with the miracle of magic the students were able to continue to their outdoor classes and enjoy a relaxing recess under the cover of the walkways over the lake. The Yule Ball was only two days away and the decorations had begun in full swing. A band had been hired to play at the annual dance, robes had been ordered or sent and the students began the annual preparations for the dance. First years were required to learn the traditional dance that opened the ceremony, a complicated waltz of sorts and the older students that needed a refresher course joined in.
The students were buzzing about who was going with who and the last minute panic resumed. Class work decreased slightly as even the professors anticipated the once a year ball. The rumors flew that the Gryffindor Captain was planning on going stag had the girls in a frenzy. To them, it meant that the seventh year was going to be able to dance with everyone and they couldn't have been more excited. Many still secretly wished that he would go with them and them alone; and many young males groaned at the idea of being overshadowed by the American.
Strange occurrences had been happening around Hogwarts as the Yule Ball approached, but it was a school of witchcraft and wizardry after all, so it wasn't that out of the ordinary. To be honest, Arthur felt as if he was been followed, much less watched more so than normal. Especially whenever he chanced to visit the stables on the edge of the Quidditch grounds where the Head Groundskeeper kept all of the magical beasts. To him, stable felt like a sanctuary; it was always warm and homey, filled with sweet-smelling hay and the curious mingling of scents that the various creatures produced.
Personally, Arthur's favorite was the injured unicorn that had been moved into the stable only a month ago. An elusive creature that the Slytherin boy took an immediate fancy to and the mystical creature returned it. Especially when the pale seventh year constantly brought him gifts of apples and sugar cubes. The stables were vast enough to house several students who took it upon themselves to visit the magical creatures without ever having to bump into another. It was quite possibly the most comforting fact to Arthur, especially whenever he felt particularly stressed.
Today happened to be one of the days that the Brit decided to visit his magical friend. It would certainly be a wonderful de-stressor for the boy – especially after the day that he had. Arthur could hardly focus on his classes that day, much less any of his extracurricular studying. Not to mention that one of his few friends, Elizabeta, a lovely Slytherin girl who took far too much interest in everyone's dating habits – especially Arthur's, had plagued him about the Yule Ball. It was as if that was the only thing that anyone could talk about! She had followed him from his History of Magic class and began pestering the petite male about who he was going with. Only when Arthur chided her about her questions, she switched to droning on about going with one of the Slytherin Beaters – Gilbert.
Arthur was familiar with the Beater of course, who wouldn't be familiar with a loud and obnoxious Germanic albino that constantly prattled on about how 'awesome' he was. God, if even Gilbert could get a date with someone as illustrious as Elizabeta – then Arthur had no hope in the world. He had managed to escape the buxom Hungarian when she got distracted by two little first-year boys holding hands and began gushing over how 'adorable' they were. Bloody fantastic.
Arthur managed to escape the warmth of the castle without too much turmoil and hurried along the pathways, jumping as well as he could over the roots and upturned stones that stuck out of the snow. It was a good five minute walk to the stables and if it hurried, he could possibly make it in three. He pulled the green and silver scarf tighter around his neck, tugging it over the lower portion of his face. His breaths slipped through the fabric in clouded puffs around his face as he dove under one of the many walkways that led to the Quidditch grounds.
As he approached the Quidditch field, a loud 'whoop' reached his ears and he could hear the excited calls of various voices, both male and female coming from the towering stadium-like structure. Deciding to take a side route, the flaxen haired male ducked from underneath the walkways and into the snow that crunched under his feet, instantly soaking his pant legs and shoes. A flash of red and gold flew overhead and Arthur was able to catch sight of the varying members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as they practiced a few drills. From the looks of it, the senior members were training a few new recruits for the upcoming Quidditch season.
A loud laugh resounded through the frozen landscape and Arthur nearly frozen in mid-step. He glanced skyward and saw the tale-tell flash of red and gold before it paused in front of a small boy who looked no older than a first year. The Gryffindor Captain brought his broom level with the boy as they hung in mid-air and watched a few of the veteran Chasers show the hopefuls how to tuck and roll. "I think you've got talent, Toris" The Captain said finally, looking at the frail boy who was bundled up viciously in a layer of scarves and gloves. The small boy looked beyond surprised as he stared up at the Quidditch idol, his green eyes wide with hope.
"You think so?" He asked, voice heavy with a Eastern European accent.
"Sure. You've got the speed and the skill. You just lack the confidence." Here, the boy was flashed one of Alfred's trademark Hollywood grins. "Plus, when it's warmer and you're not so bundled – I'm sure it'll be a lot more comfortable, ya know?"
"Absolutely! Uh…thanks Alfred… for showing me how to do all of this."
"No problem! Confidence comes with practice. It's a lot like basketball in a sense. Once you get the hang of it, it's real easy."
By this point, Arthur had ceased to pay attention and shuffled through the snow and out of earshot from the two Gryffindors. If the Slytherin boy had to perfectly honest with himself – which he absolutely refused to be, he would admit that over the years of rivalry between him and Alfred there was always the enjoyable aspect that he was able to watch the 'Hogwarts Golden Boy' in secret. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he genuinely liked what he saw. Alfred F. Jones was actually that nice. It was so easy for him and that was a part of what drew others towards the American.
Arthur could feel his cheeks burn with shame and guilt as his mind replayed the moments in the Library last night. It was possible that Alfred was being that nice and that perhaps, he was genuinely concerned for the prickly Brit. If he let himself dwell on those thoughts long enough, Arthur could almost admit that each time some act of violence or maliciousness was directed at the seventh year, Alfred would always stop it. Of course, he came up with the excuses that the rivalry was between the two of them and it was no one else's business or some crap like that, but it was always Arthur creating the discord and the blue-eyed American would generally laugh it off. Or at least reply with some snarky remark, but the way that his sky colored eyes twinkled with benevolence, it couldn't do anything but infuriate Arthur even more.
"Git." The half-soaked boy growled under his breath, his head forced down against the bitter and biting wind as it tore through past the Quidditch grounds and attacked his lithe frame. He was almost to the stables and it was just a matter of a hop, skip and jump, but something made him stop abruptly. It was almost if Arthur had walked into an invisible wall.
His head shot up and his thick eyebrows furrowed as he stared at seemingly nothing before him. No, Arthur Kirkland was no fool. He could tell by the way that the air shimmered slightly in front of him that there was indeed a barrier between him and his destination. Raising a small hand, he slammed his hand into the air before him and felt a twinge of pain shoot through his wrist as it was stopped immediately in mid-air. Definitely a wall.
The emerald colored eyes quickly scanned his surroundings and he made an attempt to turn but he felt his shoulder brush against something. Moving his hand in a wide circle, Arthur found that he was indeed feeling something. An invisible box had formed itself around him.
It was as if his nightmares had come true.
Eyes widening to the size of plates, the Slytherin boy began to frantically beat on the invisible walls, turning this way and that before he yanked his wand from his pocket and muttered various incantations, each to no avail. A girlish laugh floated through the box as there was truly nothing there. Tearing himself around to the direction of the sound, Arthur found himself staring into the beautiful faces of a troupe of young girls, each giggling joyous at the sight of the panicked Brit.
"LET ME OUT!" He screamed at them, banging a fist against the invisible barrier, his green eyes ablaze with a furious fire. One of the girls, a pretty red-head with snot green eyes bent slightly at the hip, holding a hand to her ear, "Sorry, what's that? I can't hear you." She sing-songed, laughing manically at Arthur's furious expression. A dark-skinned girl standing next to her with thick brown hair and glinting brown eyes frantically waved her hands, calling out "He's trapped in a glass case of emooooootion!" The girls practically crumpled with laughter.
For a brief moment, something flickered across the blonde's face that the girls could only recognize as rage before the Slytherin boy began screaming again, hurling profanities that fell on deaf ears. It was becoming slowly colder inside of his invisible box and his body was beginning to react to the dropping temperature. He shoved both hands against the invisible barrier, the tip of his wand glowing in an eerie green light before a booming voice cut through the laughter like a knife cuts through flesh. To the young girls, that was what it felt like as the voice sent shocks through their bodies.
"What the hell is going on here?" Alfred F. Jones, in the flesh stood just a few feet away from where the object of their loathing stood. He didn't look pleased, his normally cheerful countenance drawn into confusion but with one look at the shivering Brit who had his hands slammed against something in mid-air turned his expression into a dark one. The cerulean eyes darkened and his mouth set into a tight line as the girls looked between each other, trying to gather their words.
"We…uh.."
"We heard that he was yelling at you in the Library…"
"So we…uh.. we thought we would teach him a lesson?"
Both blue and green eyes widened significantly. Alfred's face pulled into a dark expression of malevolence as he thrust an arm towards the shivering Slytherin boy. "Let. Him. Go." He growled, eyes narrowed at the young girls who stared dumbfounded, but obliged the object of their affections.
The wall was gone as quickly as it had appeared and Arthur found himself stumbling slightly on the snow before he regained his balance, fingers still wrapped tightly around his own wand as he pointed it at the group of girls. "Get out of here, now." The Gryffindor boy barked at the girls, watching them scamper away in fear and confusion before he turned his attention back to the furious blonde.
"Arthur-"
"Fuck off Jones." Arthur snapped, turning on his heel and setting himself on his original course. Anger seethed through his veins, warming his blood despite the frozen state of his skin and extremities. He could have handled that situation just fine! Albeit, there would have been a serious deduction of House points and possibly some injuries – he could've handled it!
With the stable doors in sight, Arthur forced himself through the snow and yanked open the door with a little more ferocity than necessary only to plunge into the depths of warmth and comfort. A soft whinny greeting him as he stepped past the threshold and basked in the soft light that was cast throughout the stable. The smell of sweet hay and alfalfa was entirely comforting and began to have a soothing effect upon the enraged Brit. Bitter tears of hatred and loathing pricked at the corners of his eyes as he dragged his feet across the hay covered ground towards the source of his comfort. It was probably just the calming charm kept on the stables that was relaxing him as he reached the snow-white unicorn, holding out a pale hand towards the beast that nuzzled it in return.
A sigh escaped his lips as he turned his hand back over to run it along the creature's velvety muzzle, allowing the soft sensation to caress the skin of his hand. "He's always there, just causing more trouble for me, do you know that?" He asked, voice unusually soft as he continued to run his hand along the unicorn's face and down his neck.
"There's a reason for that."
Arthur jumped at the sound of another male's voice, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he whipped around and stared hard at the other boy. The Gryffindor was still dressed in his Quidditch uniform, a simple red sweater and white trousers tucked into leather shin guards, all overlapped by the flowing red and gold robes. He was leaning against the opposite stall door, having pulled his glasses from his face and was using the corner of his robes to wipe them gently before replacing them and giving Arthur an apologetic look.
"And what reason would that be, if you don't mind enlightening me." Arthur snapped, green eyes narrowing at the boy. The mythical beast nudged his hand softly, opening its lips to nibble at his frozen fingertips.
"I like being around you."
"Oh, that's just rich."
"I'm serious!" The American male laughed, pushing himself away from the door and striding over to stand next to Arthur, holding out his hand to the silver unicorn. "I always have. You can't push me away." The tone of voice was soft, almost a murmur that if Arthur hadn't been paying attention, he would've almost missed it.
"What? So you can mock me and have your little fan club attack me everywhere I go? Please."
"Name one time I've mocked you." Alfred challenged, turning his attention to look at the shorter male. His eyes were alive with challenge and looked so earnest, the blue burning into Arthur's skull as he looked up at his childhood rival. "I've teased you, yes. But never once have I mocked you. And I tell them to leave you alone. I try to stop them, I really do."
"And a fine job you do of that."
With a sigh, the taller male ran a hand through his hair and looked over Arthur's head before turning his attention back to the smaller boy. "Look, if I could turn back time and do it all over again, I would. I was young and stupid." Silence washed over the two students as the words took shape in the air and settled down over them like a heavy weight. All Arthur could do was snort which caused his red-clad opponent to giggle. This was all becoming slowly ridiculous, this continuous game of cat and mouse. And it seemed that both were becoming tired of playing the same game year after year. Arthur had denied the quiet implications that he felt from his American counterpart for so long that he tended to ignore them. The gestures of kindness that Alfred would extend or his attempts to cease the hatred that were directed at the Slytherin boy.
"Soo…" His attention had been diverted back to the pallid unicorn that was alternating between nuzzling and nibbling on both of the boy's fingers, occasionally giving a gentle whiny. Reaching a hand into his pocket, Arthur withdrew the apple he had stashed away earlier and held it out, turning his attention to the Gyrffindor who was eyeing him. He raised an eyebrow at Alfred in curiosity at the way that he bounced from foot to foot before settling into a single stance, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
"So the Yule Ball is coming up.."
"Mmhmm."
"Are ya going?"
"No."
"What?! Why not?"
"I have no one to go with."
"Well I can solve that problem!"
"Oh really, please oblige me in how you plan on performing some devious scheme to get me a date? Perhaps I can go with a ghost? Or better yet, a professor!"
"Silly Artie. You can go with me."
Arthur froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the grinning boy beside him incrediously. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am." Alfred replied with a shrug of his shoulders, his eyes half-hooded and his smirk turning flirtatious as he leaned down, putting his mouth next to the pale-as-a-sheet Slytherin; breath ghosting along the shell of his ear. "Arthur Kirkland, I want you to go to the Yule Ball with me."
What. The. Hell.
I'm sorry. It just kind of came out. Didn't mean for it to get angsty and that was seriously a fast turn of events. But I promised only 2-3 chapters long so I had to get some kind of action sequence in there or something! Cheesy ending is cheesy. Next up! The Yule Ball!
