Not much action in this chapter, but it's coming, I promise. Once again, HP isn't mine.
-Elisabetta's POV-
I made sure to separate myself from the group of Slytherins as soon as we made it into Hogsmeade. The place was bloody crowded so it was both easy to do and a plausible outcome. Sure, they were my Housemates and all, but most of my good friends had decided not to come today and so the people I walked down with were those I rarely talked to. I recognized a boy from Astrology and a few others from Potions, but they were all too excited about the fact that Honeyduke's was having a sale on fudge to have any interesting discussions. As soon as Jack Donovan mentioned (to the squeals of the other girls – honestly, you'd think they were in Hufflepuff!) that he was treating his girlfriend to a romantic evening at Madam Puddifoot's, I determined to give them the slip.
I made sure to weave around to effectively lose myself and then made right for a nearby deserted alley. I had spent plenty of time during all the Hogsmeade trips over the years to acquaint myself with the town, and I knew my way around pretty well. This particular alley connected to the street that housed Gladrag's Wizardwear – as well as other stores that sold beautiful, if expensive, clothes and robes – and I walked inside to spend some time, if not some money.
-Seamus's POV-
Bugger. I was bloody lost. I wasn't paying attention, looked away from Dean for just one second, and suddenly I was alone in the masses in the middle of Hogsmeade. I had no idea how to get around this place. Sighing quietly, I stopped struggling to find the other Gryffindors I came with and just let the crowd move me. Eventually, I was pushed out into a little alley that seemed to connect to another, less crowded street. As my only choice was to follow the alley or throw myself back into the sea of people, I started to walk towards the far street.
Exiting the alley, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. There, walking into a dress shop, was Elisabetta Zabini. I stared at the shop, wishing she were standing in front of me but glad that she hadn't seen me before entering. I sighed. She was by far the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts. Big blue eyes, dark brown hair, she carried herself like a model. She knew exactly how to move to get every boy's attention, and she knew it.
You're an idiot, Finnigan. Not only was the girl Blaise Zabini's sister, she was only a fifth year and she was a Slytherin! I shook my head and in the process saw the identifiable roof of the Three Broomsticks. Perfect. I figured I'd go into the pub, get me a few butterbeers and try to forget the fact that I had a stupid crush on hottest girl in school.
-Elisabetta's POV-
I kept my eyes straight in front of me until I entered the shop. I nodded at the shopkeeper and made for a rack of scarves near the front window. I was right. There stood Seamus Finnigan, sixth year Gryffindor, less than a block away. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the street, staring at the shop I was currently occupying, and the sight of it made me smile slightly. I fiddled mindlessly with a green cashmere scarf as I watched him look away and then turn and walk in the direction of his earlier glance. I pressed myself to the window to see the chimney of the Three Broomsticks. Ah. Turning from the window, for there was nothing else to see, I wound my way deeper into the shop. I was too distracted to really enjoy shopping, but I needed time to think about my reaction to seeing Finnigan. An idea was taking shape in my head that made me smirk and shiver at the same time.
Blaise, though I loved him, was incredibly overprotective. I didn't blame him for it, in fact I expected it and even took it as a bit of a compliment, but in the end having him around sometimes made it difficult to enjoy myself. (Blaise would say "go wild and crazy," but he loved to exaggerate.) I still managed, of course, but the intimacy of Hogwarts meant it was virtually impossible to keep a secret. There was the occasional boyfriend, though most of the boys at school annoyed me more than anything else. The longest I ever kept a physical relationship secret was three weeks, until we slipped up and decided to go at it in a broom closet two doors down from McGonagall's Transfiguration class.
Seamus Finnigan might be a Gryffindor, which slightly detracted from his appeal, but he was gorgeous. And I loved his accent. I once heard him telling a story at dinner and was so enthralled that I didn't even register that Pansy Parkinson was trying to tell me her successes with Malfoy the night before. Not that I ever wanted to hear about that. The Irish lilt was beautiful, the most musical of all the English dialects I had ever heard. It kind of reminded me of Italian in the way that each syllable struck a note in the conversation.
Pulling myself back to reality, I realized two things. One: I had unconsciously maneuvered myself in front of a shelf of shoes. Two: it was surprisingly dark outside. I quickly looked at the clock sitting near the cash register. It's 5:00 already? How long have I been here? I went over the details of my devious plan in my head and then left the store. The street was just as empty in twilight as it had been in daylight, and I picked up my pace. A shiver contorted my spine briefly as I stuffed my hands in my pockets and made my way towards the building in which I hoped I would find a certain Irish sixth year.