A/N: Hi. I'm just going to do some promo, since I can.
Are any of you guys fans of the Throne of Glass series? If so, definitely go check out my story Show Me How To Fly. If not, still go look at it. You don't really need to know the fandom to read the story. There are mostly the same characters, but the main plot line doesn't require the reader to know much about the original. Anyway, here's chapter two of this story.
Also, I'm changing the posting schedule. Here's the new one:
Chapter One—Monday, December 11 (8:05 p.m.)
Chapter Two—Sunday, December 17 (8:00 p.m.)
Chapter Three—Monday, December 25 (8:00 p.m.)
Chapter Four—Saturday, December 30 (8:00 p.m.)
Chapter Five—Saturday, January 6 (8:00 p.m.)
These times are all based on Pacific Standard Time. They will not be the same for everyone.
Chapter Two: A Chemistry Partner
I walked into school the following morning, head held high, ready to greet the day. Or, not so much ready, but let's just say that I had accepted that I had to.
I turned down the hallway that would lead me to my locker. Usually, I would have met some of my friends along the way, but Vincent and Gregory were both already gone for the holidays and Theodore was sick. No one else in this prison I really considered a friend.
I reached the cramped main corridor that was officially named Hallway L, but due to its congested mass of students and overbearing stench of of body odor and cheap Ax was referred to as "The Hellway."
I pushed my way through the closely packed bodies towards my locker at the end of the hall. I had been unfortunate enough to be assigned a bottom locker this year and was in constant danger of being slammed into sharp edges of the metal whenever I dared to open the damned thing. I had just crouched down to enter the combination when I realized someone was behind me.
I jumped up as though I'd been electrocuted and almost hit my head on the open locker above me. I hated it when people snuck up on me. I also hated having a bottom locker.
"Watch it," I snapped at the girl above me as her locker door nearly collided with my head. She nodded quickly, closing the door to her locker and scampering away.
Then I turned toward the figure behind the retreating girl. Potter.
"What?" I deadpanned.
"I think we should have lunch together."
I gave him a look. "No."
"We need to get to work right away!"
"No," I repeated. I did not want to have to deal with him at lunch. I didn't want to have to deal with him at all. Another thing I hated: having to juggle feelings towards someone while trying to remain calm.
"Hey, I don't like you much either, but we've got to do this! I think we both know that neither of us wants to let the other one do everything for fear of getting a bad grade for it. I don't want you to screw things up, and you don't want me to screw things up, so we have to work together. The whole point of Mr. Slughorn making people work in pairs is that get to know each other! Why do you think he put us in a group?"
I chose not to answer the last question. "Ignoring your long, run-on sentences, fine. But just work, okay? I don't want to have to actually socialize with you."
"You're weird," I heard Potter mutter. I assumed that was a yes.
At lunch, I sat down in my usual spot near the door. Alone. I had completely forgotten about my agreement with Potter, so I opened my lunch bag and started pulling things out, preparing to eat by myself.
Then he appeared next to me, seemingly out of nowhere, with a lunch tray in hand.
I jumped slightly. "Okay, you have to stop doing that!"
"Doing what?" Potter asked.
"Sneaking up on me!" I said, moving my things over to make room for him beside me.
He cocked his head, then said, "Alright. Let's get to work."
"Okay. Where do we even begin? Wait… don't we need some books or a computer to do some research on? Or at the very least a pen and paper?"
He shrugged. "Phone."
"But won't we have to jump around a lot? You know, between browsers and documents and stuff?"
"I look stuff up on my phone, you write it down on yours."
"Okay."
Potter frowned a little, like he wasn't expecting me to agree.
"What?"
"I don't know. I just assumed there'd be more pushback. You generally don't like to have to cave to other people's ideas."
"And you know me so well, how?"
"It's how you are with everyone."
"Well, don't just assume things about people. I do usually make some resistance to other people's ideas, yes, but I don't see a problem with yours."
Potter just looked confused. "Really?"
"Really. Can we get to work now? I don't want to spend any more time with you than I have to. I thought I already made that clear."
"I suppose you did," Potter said, seeming to take that as a sign that I was still an annoying jerk. Which I was.
I pulled out my phone and he pulled out his. The two of us sat in silence for a moment while I put in my password and he used his thumb print to open our accounts. I made a mental note that his finger was all I needed, should the occasion arise, to get into his things.
I pulled up a blank Google Doc and then turned to Potter. He was frowning slightly. "Where do we begin?" he asked, the same way I had just moments earlier.
I snorted.
"Why is that funny?"
"Because just a second ago you were acting like it was no problem to start work right now!"
He shook his head. "Fine. Why don't we eat lunch and then get going?"
"Sure."
He pulled out a sandwich and we started eating, once again in silence. Eventually, Potter seemed to decide that silence was too heavy.
"What's your favorite color?"
Rainbow. "Does black count?"
"No. That's a shade."
"Then really dark crimson."
"Really?"
"Really." I resisted the urge to snap my eyes back into my skull. Why would I lie about my favorite color?
The two of us got quiet again, and Potter seemed to realize that I wasn't going to ask him what his was, so he just said, "Mine's blue."
"That's original," I responded.
He made a face. "Why are you judging me based on my favorite color?"
"I don't know. Because I can."
"Well it's not like I said pink or anything," Potter snorted.
I cocked my head. "What's wrong with pink?" I asked.
"Huh. I supposed that you of all people would hate pink." He gestured to my attire.
I glanced down at my black MCR tee and skinny jeans. "No. Pink's fine. I just hate wearing color in general."
"Ah." Quiet. "What type of music do you like?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I pointed at my shirt. "Emocore, emo, rock, heavy metal, punk rock, et cetera."
"I'll just pretend I know what 'emo' and 'emocore' are."
"Works for me."
Quiet.
"Can I have your phone number?"
That question caused me to almost snort my PB&J up my nose. "No! Why?"
"Well, we have to work on this over break, obviously. How can we do that if neither of us have means of communicating with the other?"
I grimaced. He had a point. But I really didn't want to give him my number. That just felt too… I don't know. Too much like we were becoming friends. And believe me, I would have loved if that could happen, but I also knew how my mind worked. Being too close to him would just drive me insane. But I didn't entirely have a choice.
And so that was how I ended up giving Harry Potter my number.
Chapter Release Date: December 17, 2017