A/N: Hi guys. Haven't updated in like five days, sorry! I've been busy and I have to say that this is a very short chapter. I will probably get around to posting another one in the next two days. Just wanted to update so that no one lost interest. I recently saw my high school's production of the Broadway classic, Guys and Dolls. Everyone was amazing! I really wish I'd been a part of it, but I was really scared of what people would think. Our school productions are always really cool, in 2009 we did Oliver! but unfortunately, I was unable to see it. The next production will be in 2013, when I'm in my last year of high school. I'm definitely going to audition. I'd really love to be an actress. But on the upside, I'm in a touring Year Ten musical this year. We tour in late December. My Drama class combines with the Music class to write our own piece that we will perform at local primary schools for SACE credits. Hehe, well I got a little excited and got carried away. I'll let you go now. Thanks so much for reviewing! I'll update either tonight, tomorrow or Wednesday :-)
Madam Pince observed the strange couple from where she stood, concealed behind a bookshelf. Her hunched, spindly shoulders curled as she tried to get a closer look. She knew who they were. Noah Puckerman had been her own version of hell for the last six years. Rachel Berry was a nice girl, but a right pain in her old, wrinkly, well, behind.
Puck leant back on his chair, violating library rules, and watched as Rachel Berry scribbled something down on her roll of parchment. He rolled his eyes and said something, smirking, to which Rachel countered with a stony glare.
"You know, I recall Professor Burbage stating clearly that this is a group assignment," she snapped, "And I don't see you doing anything at all."
"I like it when your bossy," Puck drawled sarcastically.
"You're infuriating," she sighed, returning to her scribbling, "Besides, I'm not bossy. I'm a natural born leader."
"Really? Because I don't see anyone following you, Berry," he chuckled. Slowly, he straightened up and peered at the nearest bookshelf. "Madam Pince?"
The vulture-like librarian stuck her head out of the shelves and stared at them. "Yes, Mr Puckerman?" she croaked, blushing.
"What are you doing?"
"I-I, uh…" Madam Pince stuttered, looking from left to right in search of an excuse. As an idea suddenly dawned on her, she threw her glasses onto the floor. Rachel and Puck looked at her in shock. "Oh! I dropped my glasses. Silly me. Now, children… back to work," she hissed, flustered, as she bent to pick them up.
Rachel shook her head once the librarian was out of sight. "She's neurotic."
"Coming from you!" Puck scoffed, "Berry, you're one step away from an asylum."
"I'm not!" she exclaimed. Madam Pince, from her perch at the library desk, sent her a glare. Rachel quickly looked away. "My mental health is perfectly fine, thankyou."
Bored, Puck ran his fingers through his Mohawk and whistled. Following his eyes, Rachel's own gaze came to rest upon Quinn, Santana and Brittany, who were wearing their black school skirts incredibly short. Rachel, looking back at her parchment, scowled and crossed her legs self-consciously.
"Damn," Puck said appreciatively, "Don't tell Finn, but Quinn's lookin' better and better these days. It's getting hard to remember when she was fat last year."
"She was pregnant, Puck. With your baby."
"But she was still fat," he shrugged, then added appreciatively, "Which is the opposite of what she is now."
She huffed. "You were the one who made her that way."
"Hey, I didn't make her do anything she didn't want to do! Get Quinn to drink enough Butterbeer and she'll fall pray to anyone or anything."
"Fantastic," Rachel sighed, letting her head fall onto the desk. She eventually sat up and looked at Puck, who was currently admiring Santana Lopez's derriere. "While I do enjoy listening to your rather sick and twisted philosophy… We actually have an assignment to do."
He groaned and dragged his hand through his hair. "Fine. Read the stupid thing, Berry."
Rachel straightened and put her hands on her hips. "You know, I do have a first name."
"Whatever," he muttered, staring at her with annoyance, "But, you have to admit, it suits you better. When you're angry you kind of go purple… just like a berry."
She took a deep breath. "I do not. Now, please be quiet before I use an expletive."
"That'd be cool," he mused, again turning to look at Quinn and her friends, "I've never heard you swear."
"I don't feel the need to use provocative language."
"Well, fuck that," Puck exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air before slamming them down on the desk. He chuckled as he watched her shocked expression. "Come on then, Rachel. Let's do this; I've got Quidditch practice at five."
She grimaced, reaching for the parchment in front of her. She read it aloud, "Amy Mann. Seventeen years old, lives with her two parents and three younger brothers. Lives in Australia-"
"Wait. Does this mean she rides a kangaroo to school and says stupid things like 'G'day Mate'?" Puck asked, dumbfounded.
Rachel merely put the sheet down and stared at him. "Of course not. Australians don't ride kangaroos to school."
"Muggles are weird. You never know what they use for transportation."
"They use cars, of course. And planes and boats. Trains, too. Just like the Hogwarts Express," she replied smugly.
"Whatever. Hurry up."
Rachel grit her teeth together and continued to read, "She's in her final year at high school, which is called Year Twelve. When she leaves school she wants to study Law at University."
"Amazing," Puck yawned sarcastically, leaning against the table. He'd apparently lost interest as soon as she'd started reading. "Now what do we actually have to do?"
"Well, Professor Burbage said we should just make sure we know everything about her."
He raised his eyebrows. "So, you're telling me… that I didn't actually have to be here."
"No. Of course you have to be here. We're learning."
"I don't know about you, Berry, but I have a fantastic memory. I can remember the name of every girl I've slept with."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I highly doubt that. What, do you have a list of your conquests?"
"A mental list, I guess."
"Really?" she asked dryly, "Well, then. What's her name?"
Rachel pointed at Ravenclaw sitting in the far corner of the Library. Her red hair covered her eyes as she read, devouring every word.
"Geez, I do have standards, Berry."
"I told you. It's Rachel. And what do you mean? Helena is one of the prettiest girls in Ravenclaw."
"She's too smart. She'd know that I'm using her. I mean, you don't want a girl to know that she's a cheap one night stand. You want that shock to come in the morning, after she's crawled out of the common room, clutching her robes."
"You're disgusting."
"Thanks, babe. You don't know how much that means to me."
"Ugh," Rachel sighed, looking at the clock on the wall, "You'd better go to Quidditch practice. I've got to meet Blaine anyway."
Puck took his quill from the table and shoved it carelessly into his pocket. He hadn't bothered to bring ink; he knew that Rachel would be prepared. Rachel gathered her many books and rolls of parchment, along with her ink and several quills. Her arms were full, but she wouldn't dare ask Puck to help her carry them. He'd probably say no anyway.
"Do you promise that you'll remember all those things? They're important facts and we'll need to become very familiar with them."
"Yeah, whatever. Muggle Studies is a bludge anyway, so it's not a big deal if I don't."
Rachel bristled, pulling her items closer to her chest. "It's a big deal for me! Getting perfect N.E.W.T results is on my list of things to accomplish before graduat-"
"Rachel Berry has a list?"
She shut her mouth quickly, knowing that Noah Puckerman would most definitely mock her if he learnt anything else about the list. "It's not a big deal."
"I've got a list."
Intrigued, she stared at him with wide eyes. She didn't just have a big nose in the literal sense. "What's on it?"
"My conquests," he chuckled and winked at her before turning and muttering over his shouler, "I'm going."
He didn't say anything else; he didn't even offer a polite goodbye. But that was Noah Puckerman for you. Rachel watched as he went, annoyed, trying to stop the books in her arms from overflowing onto the stone floor.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry this was so short, but I have a lot of homework to do! Unfortunately it hasn't magically disappeared :-( God, I wish I was a witch. It would be one of the first things I'd do. So, yeah, thanks for reading again! Please please review :-)