"I see London, I see France, I see Draco's underpants!" ;PSo, here's chapter four! Hope you all like it chicklings! Really, I should be doing some economics homework right about now but it sucks, so I'm not. : )I'm a little quicker than I have been before, yes?
Oh and a BIG! BIG! thank you to you two girls who reviewed my last chapter, Nelle07 and Manic-Cheese-Fairy. You were both so very nice to me.
I really do appreciate all your thoughts.
"Well, I have to say Winterbourne, I underestimated you…" I was midway through stomping up the stairs when Malfoy said just that, and I instantly froze, the mud-capped sole of my shoe literally hovering above the stone step. Slowly and just a little dazedly, I lowered it and turned.
"What?" I said, narrowing my eyes suspiciously as he swaggered passed. I followed him with my eyes. Did Malfoy, the Malfoy, just give me a compliment? Fine, compliment was a bit of stretch, but he had just said something to me that wasn't sneered or suggested I was the human equivalent to bat droppings. Was he actually going to say that he was impressed with my daring tonight? I bubbled with sudden unbidden excitement. What if he was actually considering letting me on the team? Could it honestly be that Malfoy's heart wasn't quite as shrivelled and dead as we all believed?
He carried on. "…you are for more stupid than I had initially thought." Then again…maybe not.
I blinked, rearing back as if hit. He looked back at me rooted on the steps, his eyes gleaming.
The cool, numb sensation of my shock dribbled from my body and out onto the stone steps like heated wax. Something hot and molten scratched in my stomach beneath my belly button, clawing it's way up and up while growing in size until my whole body was under it's fiery siege.
My nostrils flared and Malfoy was certain he could see steam coil from them in the cold night air. His smirk flickered a little. I charged up the remaining steps seeing red but before I could beat seven shades of tartan out of the little swine, Hagrid's rumbling voice cut in, "Righ' you two, that's enough. Don't want you wakin' the whole castle up with yer bickerin'." Malfoy sneered at him, curling his lip and scrunching his nose while he gave the giant a disgusted once-over. Hagrid's words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears however, for after just a few more minutes of quiet in which I listened sourly to the dull crackling of the flames on the walls, Malfoy turned back to me.
"Really, what had you thought you were going to achieve tonight? Calling a person a tea cosy isn't exactly what I'd call a productive way to spend the evening."
"I had a plan," I snapped unable to help myself as I wiggled my shoulders straight. I stuck out my chin, avoiding his glittering eyes. "It just wasn't the right time for it is all."
"Oh really? So what was that I heard you mutter to that girl. Something about stuffing wands up noses and running. Ring any bells?" 'Ring any bells?' I mimicked in his posh English accent, pulling a pompous face to match his own ugly mug.
"And as attractive as that face was Winterbourne, I think you'll find I'm not easily distracted."
My face turned surly. "Okay, so first off, you know Annie's name so don't call her, 'that girl' you dingbat. Second, -"
"What I tell you 'bout bein' quiet?" My words dried up in my mouth as I looked into Hagrid's black eyes, probably the only feature of his face that wasn't covered with grizzly hair.
"Sorry professor," I mumbled, lowering my eyes before wondering what had gotten the usually amiable giant into such a grumpy mood. I heard Malfoy snigger to himself and I shot him a proper good glare under my eyelashes, swallowing the growl itching its way up my throat.
We reached Professor Snape's office far quicker than I had wanted. I fiddled with the edges of my sleeves as Hagrid pounded a gigantic fist against Snape's office door. Well, there's no turning back now.
"I can't believe I'm stood here," Malfoy grumbled plainly, glaring at me from beneath the white blonde of his eyebrows. "All because you couldn't keep your big nose out of other people's -"
"Oh, put a sock in it already," I snapped. Seriously, the boy could bicker for Britain! He was worse than an old hag for crying out loud!
"Finally…" I heard Hagrid mutter gruffly under his breath before he knocked heavily on the wooden door again.
"Oh, what is it?" a slippery, and unhappy voice snarled, just as the door swung open revealing Snape in all his glowering, greasy-haired glory. In tartan pyjamas no less I noticed, glimpsing a flash of the checked pattern from under his black cloak which he was hastily trying to yank closed. Obviously, we'd woken him up. Dear Merlin.
Save us.
He glowered at the giant in front of him. "Hagrid, what are you -" I tried to stop it, I really did but I couldn't. The cough scratched it's way up my throat and I spluttered, gasping uncontrollably into my hand. Snape stiffened before very, very slowly, his black eyes slipped from Hagrid to Malfoy and I, swallowing our muddy shoes and hems with a slight curl of his lip. I fiddled nervously with my sleeves while Malfoy glared mercilessly at me, obviously not too impressed with my timing.
"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Winterbourne…" Snape drawled in that cool voice of his, disgust curdling every syllable. "To what do I owe this…pleasure." The word rolled off his tongue as if he had tasted something foul. It didn't take much for me to realise that his tone clearly said in true slippery Slytherin fashion, that this meeting derived absolutely no pleasant feelings from him and that if we had been making a nuisance of ourselves, then our ass was pretty much grass. And how typical was it that that was just exactly what we'd been doing, though it was completely Malfoy's fault, the prat. Snape appeared to know this too, his eyes lingering a little too long on the dirty state of my shoes. Either that, or he was deciding whether he fancied a pair for himself.
"Found 'em both at the Quidditch pitch, professor Snape sir. Looked like they were about to duel if yeh ask me," Hagrid intervened helpfully, looking at us both. Malfoy finally relieved me of his foul look, only to flip it onto Hagrid. Snape's eyes finally, with the pace of a turtle on it's last legs, pulled from my shoes to look at both our faces.
"Sir," Malfoy cut in smoothly, secure in the knowledge that he was Snape's favourite student in the whole year and thus, unlikely to get in much trouble. He sent me a smug smirk, as if to rub it in before washing it cleanly from his face, and replacing it with a solemn expression. "Quite clearly there has been some mistake -"
"I sincerely hope so Mr. Malfoy. Both of you in my office." Malfoy opened his mouth. "Now." Malfoy whitened, nodded quickly and darted inside the dark office in the same second. Snape languidly turned his head to me as I made no effort to move. "Ms. Winterbourne, are you hard of hearing?"
I frowned, looking from left to right as if to ask the suits of armour on either side of me what to say. "Er…no sir?"
"Well then, do you think you are far too superior to listen to my instructions, or have you just been sniffing too much broom polish?" I closed my eyes, flicking them open to glare at a spot above Snape's shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw Hagrid shift.
"I'll, er, jus' get goin' then…" he said, taking his leave though not before giving me an apologetic almost sheepish smile. My scowl hardened at the attempt of friendliness. After all, it was his fault I was at Snape's in the first place. Stupid giant, even if I did get an O in Magical Creatures…
"Well, Ms. Winterbourne…?"
"No sir," I finally ground out between my teeth. "I don't."
"Then why are you still out here? Follow Mr. Malfoy's good instruction and get into my office."
My entire body quivered with barely restrained irritation at being told what to do. With one baleful glare down at my shoes, I walked into the office, my legs stiff and awkward as if they refused to take me there.
The office as per usual, was dimly lit, with the vestiges of an old fire glowing burnt orange under the weight of grey ash in the hearth. Shelf upon shelf of glass jars filled with grisly finds lined the shadowed walls and when I spotted a toad bobbing lifelessly in some purple liquid, looking out at me with unblinking, meaningful eyes as if imploring for me to save it from it's fateful end boiled in a stew, I very quickly flickered my gaze to the table and chairs. Much, much better…or at least, it would've been had some blond not been there to ruin the fine image.
He was sitting in the chair farthest from me slouched, with his elbows overlapping the sides of the old chair as his hands clasped across his stomach, looking an off white against the poor lighting and dark colour of his robes. Long, lean legs spread out in front of him, and I observed with a roll of my eyes, him crossing them at the ankles effortlessly. All in all, he was displaying the image of utter nonchalance.
I scowled at the arrogance of him, sitting there as if he were 'lord of the manor'. Quite clearly, somebody wasn't worried about getting into trouble. He looked over at me as I walked to the seat, scowling as I reluctantly thumped down.
"Aah Winterbourne," he said, lifting his arms to tuck them behind his neck, a smirk settled across his pale lips. "I suggest you savour these next few moments. I doubt…-" But what indeed he doubted, I didn't find out as my attention was, quite unexpectedly, snatched by something else of his.
His muscles, to be precise, which were pressing almost criminally against the confines of his jumper as his back arched with his stretch. Every crevice, every ridge of his chest was now visible to my wide and shameless eyes. I was never one to trip over myself for a well chiselled, marvellously toned, almost sculpted - moving on! - chest, because when you play Quidditch, well you see quite a lot of open nakedness what with testosterone raging in the air and girls screaming for guys to get their tops off and guys being only too willing to…. But, for some reason despite all this, the mere outline - outline for crying out loud! - of Malfoy's had my mouth watering.
Which I just couldn't understand! Why did I care what Malfoy looked like! I'd known him for nearly all my life and never once had he ever appealed to me, even if I had somewhere in the back of my mind admitted that he wasn't so bad looking. After all, who couldn't notice those eyes of hi - NO! Malfoy was a rat! A pile of steaming, stinking dung fresh from a hippogriff's butt! He was rude, and conceited, and vile! Everything I hate! I mean, how could I even look at him like that when I knew how horrible he was? Because he was! He wasn't nasty just on his off days, he actually liked to hurt people, he wanted to ruin people's lives because he was a spiteful, heartless low life who needed to lower other people's self confidence because he needed to jump start his own! (Or at least, that was Annie's diagnosis, but I fully stood by her!!)
"You do realise that staring is rude don't you?" The bigot's voice broke through my internal seething, and it just oozed with palpable conceit. I glared at him, trying to project my thoughts into his head through eye contact.
"Naturally, I understand," Malfoy prattled on. "After all, many a witch would kill to have a piece of this." He unfurled his hand from his neck to gesture to his himself. "Did you know that when they put me in Witch's Weekly's most eligible bachelors, I received more than five hundred owls from some very fine ladies declaring their undying love for me?" Yeah, all from his mum most likely.
He looked at me as if I should fall at his feet and kiss the ground he walked on.
"Whatever Malfoy."
"Just face it Winterbourne," he smirked, lowering his hands from his neck to lean towards me. I looked away from him. "You think I'm dishy." I spluttered a laugh, returning my gaze to him.
"Dishy? Oh, you did not just say that." If anything, Malfoy's smirk widened. His eyes gleamed with the foreign sparkle I had seen in them at the Great Hall - that look of them being alive.
"Just admit it. After all, it's merely logical that you'd be attracted to me. In case you hadn't noticed, I have quite an effect on young ladies."
"Yeah but in case you hadn't noticed," I whispered back, leaning forward. "Little cousins and Crabbe and Goyle dressed up don't count."
His face twisted in disgust as obviously the hulking image of Crabbe and Goyle with blonde pigtails and pink summer dresses settled in his mind. I understood greatly, since I was imagining the same thing.
"Hmm, well I see somebody's still in denial…" he said, returning his hands to behind his neck his repulsed face gone and his smirk returned.
I narrowed my eyes. "Ugh, you are the most repulsive, dirty-mouthed ponce of a ferret I've ever had the misfortune to meet!" I inhaled deeply with a shudder as the words rushed from my mouth in one heated breath.
Malfoy glared, slowly taking his arms away from his neck.
"Say that again, Winterbourne."
"What too much words for your puny, pea sized brain to handle? Fine, I'll say it slower then! You're. A. Repulsive -"
The door crashed open.
I heard Snape whoosh inside in that dramatic way of his that he usually reserved for first impressions with first years where he would frighten them silly with his slow drawl and biting words, and the door slammed shut behind him. I quickly shut up.
"Explain.." Snape drawled, planting his palms on the desk and leering at us both from the other side. His cloak was still shuddering from the spins it had danced with his overly zealous entrance.
We both shared one single glance. And then our mouths opened.
"Well professor, Winterbourne here -"
"Sir, he was trying to set up a false team -!"
"..threatened me. I have witnesses."
"I - " I stopped, then pulled a face as I spun to him. "You have 'witnesses'? Who the hell says that to a teacher? Which reminds me actually - 'riffraff'? If you want to insult someone Malfoy - "
The words choked and died on my lips as quite suddenly, I found myself face to face with a very large, very hooked nose. "Are you quite done?" Snape seethed, his lips peeling back to reveal yellow teeth. "Or do you expect us all to endure another of your mindless tirades?" I glared, my eyes going slightly cross-eyed in the process. Yes!!
"No," I grimaced, holding eye contact with him for only another few seconds before I had to look away.
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, pushing away from me slowly though not removing eye contact. "Continue." Malfoy smirked.
"Well, you see sir, Winterbourne here seemed to have decided that it was ok for her to be at the Quidditch Pitch tonight. I'd fallen a sleep on the couch in the common room professor, and heard her leaving--" my mouth fell open at the stream of lies flying from his mouth. Snape noticed and glared for me to not vocalise my obvious protests but I ignored him. Like I'm going to just sit here and let that grease ball web a set of lies about me!
"You liar!" I cried, pointing at him accusingly.
"Winterbourne, sit back down."
I turned to Snape, stabbing my finger in Malfoy's direction. "But professor--!"
"Do not make me repeat myself." I stared ferociously into his eyes, unbelieving before thumping back down in my seat, crossing my arms and scowling. Great! Just great! He wouldn't even listen to me. Some bloody professor he was!
Snape gestured for Malfoy to carry on. "As I was saying," Malfoy began, eyeing me darkly before turning back to Snape. "Winterbourne went down to the Quidditch pitch and I followed. Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint came with me too professor, because they all knew how unstable she was -"
"Shut up!" I screamed, my blood boiling. "You're the one who was planning on setting up a biased team! I wouldn't have had to go down in the first place if it weren't for you!" I was practically spurting steam.
Malfoy finally dropped his 'I'm a little innocent gay boy' act and swung round to face me. He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"With four people? In case you hadn't noticed Winterbourne, there are seven people on a team." A dark shadow settled on my brow and I reared my chin into my neck, glaring at him from beneath my eyelashes.
"I know how many people are on a team Malfoy…-"
"Silence!" Snape spat, skewering us both with a glare so formidable I instantly quietened. Snape slid forward, landing his hands on the table and sliding them along the top as if pressing his irritation into the wood. He glanced between us. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?! I expect better from my seventh years…" His eyes slipped from me to Malfoy. "Or at least, from you Mr. Malfoy."
My face creased in annoyance and I tried not to be stung. Well, fine, who cares what that greasy haired old bugger thinks anyway! Not like I need potions or anything. It's a stupid subject really when you think about it. You just basically throw a bunch of dead roots in a cauldron, some decaying piece of flesh like a toenail or something and voila! There's your potion. I mean, who can't do that? Okay, so Longbottom has a bit of trouble but he's practically a whole new case of wizard in himself.
I'm not quite sure what exactly instigated Snape to harbour such feelings of animosity for me. Maybe it was because I spilt that potion over him in second year and he'd spent the next two weeks covered in pus-filled boils because magic couldn't cure them…or y'know, it could've been that time when Oswald the family ferret sunk his teeth into his nose in the common room…Whatever. It was a mystery to me. No point in crying over spilt potion as gran would say.
"Quite frankly, I don't care what pathetic excuse either of you have managed to scrounge up in those dunderheads of yours." Those his words appeared to be for us both, Snape didn't lift his gaze from me. "A letter will be sent to both of your parent's immediately," Snape continued. "And though that never seems to work with you Winterbourne, I will not have one of my students get a detention a mere six hours into the term. Now, go. And make sure I don't see you here again."
"I don't see why you just don't give up Winterbourne," an all too familiar voice greeted me once I'd closed the door, sounding far too cheerful for my liking. I groaned at the sight of the blonde leaning against the wall and walked straight passed him, feeling too tired and angry to deal with Malfoy right now. Or at least, so close to Snape's office. Maybe when we got around the next corner I could throttle him to death and finally remove his irritating existence from my life. After all, Hagrid's pumpkin patch would be a pretty decent place to bury him…
"You see, there's a certain code of conduct," he said, falling into pace with me and essentially cutting off my morbid thoughts of alibis and destroying evidence. "A time-honoured code of sorts…, though," he said, flashing me a look nobody could mistake for being disgustingly conceited. "I suppose, what with your social standing, you wouldn't know." My jaw tightened. Who did he think he was, the bloody high and mighty? High and mighty ponce more like.
"You see Winterbourne, girls just don't play Quidditch. Never have and never will. Really, what makes you think you're different?"
I gritted my teeth together. Malfoy better watch it because at the moment I was feeling enough hate towards him that I could definitely Avada kedavra his ass into the next life.
And as Malfoy prattled on more and more about how I should just give up after the "little stunt I had pulled tonight" I realised more and more that I needed a plan. A good plan, a great plan, a plan which would knock Malfoy down a peg or two and get me on the Hogwarts Quidditch team.
And I think I knew just the person to help me.
Dun-dun-dunnnnn! Who, indeed, who could it possibly be?! And what is this I hear of a plan - oh my! Have you yourself got any internal rambles you would like to discuss with me? It could be anything! Anything at all! You wanna know the fat content of a HobNob, you got it!
And yes, that is me so very badly hinting for you to review.
Please do!
But, if not?
Thanks for reading amigo's!
x
BTW. Is YouTube p*ssing anyone else off? They keep silencing songs or saying, I can't view some videos in my country! I'm not getting my Celine Dion fix here! *eye twitches*
