a/n: duty calls me to the schoolbooks and whatnot…sooo…yeah, sorry about the very, very long wait…but I'm afraid that's what it's going to be like from now on. I'm determined to keep my sanity AND graduate. I'm being ambitious, I know…but I thought I'd try. Anyway, enjoy! )
More Macmillan Men
Oh, my bloody gosh. I wish I could just put a silencing charm on my parents. I mean, without getting hexed in return. I mean, seriously…when they get into lecture mode, there's just no stopping them. They've been lecturing me for the past twenty minutes on dementor safety and they won't be quiet. I'm almost tempted to endure a hex from mum to silence them…but then again…last time my mum hexed me for being disrespectful, my left buttock stung for a week….
"Are you listening, Suzie?" My mum asked for the third time since breakfast this morning. "Because I swear, if you come home without your soul, I will say I told you so."
I rolled my eyes as I buttoned my jacket. "If I get my soul sucked out, I won't be able to understand you anyway."
Mum sniffed, looking thoroughly disheartened by my attitude. I couldn't help but giggle. "Sorry Mum. I swear I was listening to you. If Denise and I get cornered by dementors, I'll shoot my patronus and disapparate back home."
"I think you and Denise should agree on a central location to disapparate to…and you should link arms when you walk, so just in case, if need be, one of you can do aside apparition…"
"Oh, Mum…"
"Don't 'oh Mum' me!" Mum snapped. "Diagon Alley is being patrolled by dementors—they're all over the place! And I don't care how safe Fudge thinks he is, they're dangerous!"
I gasped. "Seriously?"
Mum glared at me, and pulling out her wallet, she handed me a bunch of galleons.
"Denise and I will be careful." I said, trying hard not to grin at my mum's paranoia. I was failing miserably though. I couldn't help it. I'm seventeen bloody years old now! I can take care of myself…
"Swear on your Defense Against the Dark Arts homework you'll be careful?"
I glared again at Mum. She knows how much I adore Professor Lupin (she also knows what I mean by 'adore' too. I still haven't forgiven Denise for letting it slip…) And she knows about the whole Madeline debacle, and how I can't stand the fact that Lupin's disappointed in me.
"I'm leaving now." I said, trying to ignore the smug look on my mum's face. Urgh. I would much rather take the ass-whooping for my prank than to endure my mum's smugness. She didn't punish me for my prank, because she said having to endure the disappointment of a man I'm in love with is punishment enough. Geez. What kind of mother is she? She's supposed to discipline me when I do something bad, not taunt me. This is what happens when there isn't a large enough age gap between a mother and daughter. Mum had me when she was twenty. Dad was forty. I think the origins of my fetish for older men as suddenly become clear. It was inherited, not acquired…but anyway, yeah. Mum isn't very mother-like much of the time…
"Be home for dinner" she replied, looking squarely at me. "If you're not home by seven, I'm sending a search party after you."
"Fair enough."
I pocketed the money Mum gave me, and concentrating hard on the image of the sign outside The Leaky Cauldron, I disapparated with a pop. I apparated in front of the pub, and after taking a moments to catch my breath, I glanced around for Denise. She wasn't here yet. Figures. Her parents were twice as protective as mine, and were probably giving her a safety lecture twice as long as the one I had to endure. Probably also giving her tips on how to escape me in case I tried to get ourselves in trouble or something. It's not that they don't trust me…well, actually, it's exactly like that. They like me enough to let me spend every waking moment with Denise, but they don't trust me much. Understandably. I have a long history of breaking lamps in their house, and er…breaking their house rules (like trying some of her dad's muggle champagne when we were underage), and taking Denise down with me on numerous occasions.
Denise apparated a few feet from me. I couldn't help but grin when I saw the sickened look on her face. She still wasn't used to apparating either then. We both passed our apparition exams over the summer, but didn't have much time to get the hang of it because school started, and there's anti-apparition charms on Hogwarts. Anyway, yeah. Apparating feels really weird, and sometimes I would just prefer walking or even flooing (or even going by broomstick if I were a better flyer, or at least had someone to ride on me—er—I mean, with me.) But apparating is a big time saver, I'll admit…
"Sorry I'm late…" Denise breathed, walking over to join me.
"No worries." I replied. "I just got here myself."
"Ok…so where to first?"
I glanced around, taking in the holiday bustle. I still needed to buy a present for my uncle Jack, the guy who owns Quality Quidditch. Sigh. Quidditch. If only fate had been working in my favor, I could be worrying about getting Oliver a present too. But alas, the only men I'm shopping for are my uncle and father. Oh, and Cedric. He's coming over to our house for a Christmas party. Apparently, we're like, third cousins, twice removed or something…So our families are all excited about figuring this all out and now they want to do the whole family bonding thing. Well, I guess I can cross Cedric off my list of back up boyfriends in case I'm still single by the time I'm forty. I mean, we've always been platonically close. Now we're family. Gross.
"I still need to get a present for Professor Vector…" Denise said, digging out a slip of parchment from her purse. "I think I'll just get her chocolate…let's go."
I followed Denise through the crowd. "Wait—why are getting Vector a gift?" I asked suddenly.
"Oh, well…she wrote me a recommendation letter…so it's just sort of a thank you gift as well as a Christmas gift."
"Oh." I replied. Damn. I completely forgot about social protocol. Thank you notes, gifts, of course…Damn. How did I not think to do that? Oh, double damn. I didn't exactly leave on good terms with Professor Lupin—it might be weird giving him something. But I do owe him. I mean, he did write me a really sweet letter, and he's so nice as a person…I wonder how he'll react if I send him something. Maybe he'll forgive me for how I treated him and how I acted towards Madeline. Well, cancel the latter. Our parting words are emblazed in my mind. "It's not my problem. My tongue is a normal size." Ugh. That was like a jab in the gut, and I hate it. I know none of this is his problem….the problem's between Madeline and me. I just wish he didn't have to go and disapprove of it…Ok, I know he did. And I know he was right. I'm selfish and don't want to apologize to Madeline. And I tried making my conscience feel better the easy way, apologizing to him. While I'm thoroughly annoyed at how guilty Lupin's made me feel, I am also totally floored. That man can switch to friend to authority in sixty seconds. Amazing. And I have no idea why, but I find that incredibly sexy. Well, that's settled then. Professor Lupin is getting a big box of chocolate for Christmas from me, whether he likes it or not.
"Hey, Denise"—I started, following her down a particularly crowded aisle in Snape's Sweet Shoppe (the owner, Samantha Snape, has no relation to Professor Snape. Believe me, I asked her myself.)—"I should get something for Professor Lupin…he needs a Christmas/thank you gift too."
Denise cocked an eyebrow at me. "But didn't you have a row with him before we left school?"
"Well"—
"You told me you apologized to him, and then took your apology back, and then slammed the door on him…"
I sighed. "Fine. A Christmas/thank you/sorry-for-being-a-bitch present all in one. Will a box of chocolate do?"
Denise laughed. "Only if it's a big box." She said, picking up a box of dark chocolate and examining it. "What do you think?" She asked, holding out the box to me.
"Professor Lupin likes plain milk chocolate the best." I said, putting the box back.
Denise rolled her eyes and picked it up again. "Not for Lupin, for Vector!"
"Oh! Ok…well, I don't know…"
"How do you know Lupin's chocolate preferences?"
"He told me once."
"Really, when?"
I picked up a large box of milk chocolates and headed towards the checkout counter. "A few weeks ago. In the astronomy tower. At midnight…"
"Oh, Suzie…"
"It was just one night of hot, steamy passion…and he told me…discussing chocolate makes for excellent pillow talk." I continued.
Denise shuddered, and the salesman who was servicing us looked slightly repulsed at overhearing me. I couldn't help but giggle. We decided to stop at Quality Quidditch to say hello to my uncle, and so the rest of the way there, I entertained (ok—more liked horrified) Denise with stories of my fictional midnight escapades with Professor Lupin.
"Have another biscuit, m'dear!"
I watched my uncle Jack pass the plate of tea biscuits to Denise, who took another one rather hesitantly. I pursed my lips together, trying to keep from laughing. Uncle Jack had made them himself, and well…let's just say he has a particularly strong sweet tooth. Poor Denise was too polite to decline them, so she was stuck eating her third biscuit.
"Good girl!" said Uncle Jack, winking at Denise. "We'll have you fattened up to Suzie's size in no time!"
I glared at him. "I'm not fat!"
Uncle Jack and Denise chuckled. "Of course you're not…" said Jack, dusting crumbs off his lap as he stood up to get back to work. Hmph. This is what I get for messing around in Uncle Jack's shop. I was helping him unload a new shipment of detachable comfort seats for long-distance broom-riding, and I thought it would be fun to sit in one of them, just to see if they were really comfortable. Anyway, my butt got stuck in it. And those seats were supposed to be one-size fits all. Denise and Jack had one hell of a time watching me trying to pull it off. Geez. So I have a big bum. That doesn't make me fat. Stupid magic folks…so hung up on body image. Here's where we can take a leaf out of the books of muggles—they don't think big arses fat. They appreciate it. Hell, they even write songs about it. I wonder if Professor Lupin's noticed my butt…if so, I wonder what he thinks of it. Does he favor the round posterior or not?
"Well, if I ever turn anorexic, it's going to be your fault…" I said, casting a glare at Uncle Jack as he went over to the front window to adjust the Firebolt that was on display. I thought briefly of Oliver, wondering where he was right now, what he was doing…maybe he was in Diagon Alley right now, doing last minute Christmas shopping too. Then I thought of Madeline, realizing he probably bought her a Christmas present. Probably got her a necklace. Or earrings…dangly ones, for those little lobes of hers…
"I swear" Uncle Jack huffed, still directing his attention to the Firebolt. "This is the last one I've got left, and people are treating it like some old Shooting Star…always touching it, poking the bristles…I have to groom it at the end of almost every day to keep it looking new!"
"You only have one left?" Denise asked, joining Jack and me by the window. "Wow, they must be selling fast!"
Jack shrugged. "I only had a few to begin with. They're so expensive…but they did go pretty quickly. Sold one just yesterday, actually. Strange order though. A cat came in here with the money and a note from its owner to send it to someone at Hogwarts."
"Really? Who?" I asked before I could stop myself. I saw Denise glance at me, smiling slightly.
Uncle Jack laughed. "Bad business ethics if I told you. But I can tell you that kid's going to be having one hell of a Christmas!"
Just then, the door swung open, and I could feel my heart doing a back flip. It was Oliver. He had one shopping bag in his hand. It was a small bag, and from what I could tell of the small bulge in it, there was a tiny package in it. (And I mean the bag, not Oliver.) It was probably a gift for Madeline. I could feel myself burn a little with jealousy. Ok. So I don't even like jewelry. Still…when a guy gives a girl jewelry, it means something.
"Oliver, m'boy!" Jack exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "What can I do for you today?"
"'Lo, Jack." Oliver replied. "I was just doing some Christmas shopping, and I thought I'd pop by."
Jack chuckled. "You mean you didn't come here to look at the Firebolt?"
Oliver colored slightly, but smiled all the same when Jack led him toward the window. I tried to stay cool. I really did. I was going to casually slip into the back of the store to grab my things and make a quick getaway. But apparently Denise wasn't on the same page as me, as I had begun to quickly back away, I accidentally tripped over Denise's foot and fell backwards, knocking over a small shelf full of broom-servicing kits.
"Suzie!" I could hear Uncle Jack and Denise shout at the same time. I had barely opened my eyes when I felt Jack's gruff hands helping me up.
"Do watch where you're going." Jack said, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the mess I made. "Reparo."
"Sorry," I muttered,' feeling my face turn red. Honestly, of all people to do that in front of… I chanced a glance at Oliver, who was still standing near the Firebolt display. He looked smug and amused. Ugh. Fine. Madeline can have you, asshole.
"Oh—Oliver, m'boy—I'm sorry! I didn't even introduce you," my uncle said, grabbing Denise and me by the hands, and pulling us forward. "This is my favorite niece, Suzie"—he said, patting me on the shoulder—"and this is her friend Denise. Maybe you already know them…I think they're about the same age as you…seventeen?"
Oliver nodded. "We already know each other. Same year."
"But different houses." I said.
"But we've had some classes together" Denise added.
There was a moment of silence, where Uncle Jack glanced at the three of us warily. "Ok." He finally said with a sigh. "Who walked in on who naked?"
The three of us gasped at once.
"No one!" Denise exclaimed indignantly, looking surprisingly shocked at my uncle's ability to say that. Honestly, she should know where I get my pervyness from.
Uncle Jack chuckled. "Right then. Just wondering where the tension was coming from. My only other guess then is that you lot are from different houses."
Oliver rolled his eyes. For some reason, that really irked me. "Yeah, I'm in Gryffindor" he said.
Uncle Jack nodded. "Hmm…I thought the ultimate tension was supposed to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin, not Gryffindor and Hufflepuff…"
Denise laughed. "There's hardly any tension between our houses…"
"Except with Quidditch." I muttered, secretly wanting to get into a fight with Oliver. I have no idea why. I know nothing about Quidditch except men look incredibly hot when they play it, yet I want to argue with Oliver Wood—quidditch's wanton lover. Maybe he won't be baited. Oh no—wait—he's been baited. I see the spark in his eyes.
"Well, plenty of reason to be tense. Quidditch is a serious game. Not that you'd know anything about it."
"I'd defend you, doll," Uncle Jack said, glancing briefly at me as he adjusted the display I had knocked over moments before, "but I'm still mad at you for your clumsiness. Plus he's right. You don't care two straws for the sport."
"Hey, leave her alone, Suzie knows some things about quidditch!"
I glanced at Denise and tried not to shudder. What was she trying to do? Further embarrass me in front of Oliver? I know next to nothing about the bloody sport. Sigh. Ok. I can do this. I'm a bonafide bull-shitter.
Oliver smiled slightly. "Right. I suppose knowing one end of a broom from the other could count as quidditch knowledge. Great job, Suzie. If you were a Gryffindor, I would make you the next captain."
I'm not sure how to feel about that. Is he teasing me or trying to be mean?
Uncle Jack chuckled, patting me on the shoulder. "Oh, our Suzie knows a little more…I think she may know how to fly too!"
I glanced at Uncle Jack as he and Oliver laughed. "I do know how to fly! I know I'm not exactly quidditch material, but I can fly."
Oliver nudged Uncle Jack in the arm. "Our first year, when we had riding lessons, Madam Hooch had to dismiss class early because she had to go to the hospital wing—Suzie had flown right into her, knocking the air out of the woman."
Denise put a hand on her mouth, obviously trying to stifle a laugh. "I completely forgot about that!" she said. Oh, load of help, Denise.
Uncle Jack chuckled again, putting an arm around me. Ugh. I just wanted to slap his hand away for laughing. "Eh, well…our Suzie probably couldn't catch a snitch to save her life, but she's a right genius. Try having a debate with her on any subject and she'll give you a run for your money. I swear, if she were more socially awkward, she could have been a Ravenclaw."
Aw, well…that was sweet. Ok, Jack's back in my good books.
Oliver cocked an eyebrow at me. "Really?"
Prat! How dare he look skeptically at me! I'm smart! Sorta…
"Yes, really…" I replied, trying to sound cool. I waited for him to reply, possibly with something to test my wit. Or was he waiting for me to say something witty? He smiled at me. And it wasn't even sexy. Geez.
"I think my money's safe." He said, glancing down at his watch. "Anyway, I've got to get going. Good to see you Jack, and uh…well, see you guys at school." He said, nodding at Denise and me. We said bye to him, and as I watched him go, I felt a rush of anger and embarrassment crash over the butterflies that were settling in my stomach.
An hour later, Denise and I had split up, as we both had quite a bit of shopping to do, and we're not very productive shoppers when put together. I was in Flourish and Blotts, looking for a present for Denise, actually. She loves office supplies—I mean, to the point where it's like, almost a fetish. Anyway, I thought I'd get her some really cool quills. Maybe scented ones with some kind of floral scent to it. She's definitely a floral girl. After scanning the shelves for a few minutes, I finally settled on a bunch of quills—each smelling like exotic flowers I'd never heard of—and I headed down to the aisle of ink bottles. She would love coloured ink. I picked out a few bottles of girly ink colors (pink, purple and baby blue). I glanced at some of the other ink bottles…they had all sorts of designs and shapes…one of them actually had a little snitch shaped cap on it. I picked it up to get a better look. Oliver would like this…or would he? I'm not quite sure…he doesn't seem like the type to collect cutesy quidditch-oriented paraphernalia. Although I did hear once that he owned a pair of boxers with a beater's bat and pair of bludgers on the front with the word 'beater' written across it. No idea where that rumor started or even if it's true. Not that I'm really concerned with Oliver's underwear status anymore. As of today, I'm completely over Oliver Wood. He is a mean jerk. I mean, the fact that he actually remembers my broom-riding incident from first year just illustrates his assholeness. And the fact that he's shallow and stupid, going for someone like Madeline Johnson gives me more reason to not like him. I don't like stupid guys. I like'em smart…like Lupin-smart. See, Lupin is boyfriend material. Not Oliver Fuckwit Wood.
"Hoping if you hold that bottle long enough, some of its quidditch-like attributes will seep into you?"
Surprisingly, I didn't jump or do anything klutzy. I put the ink bottle down on the shelf and turned around to face Oliver. He was casually dribbling a lime green ball that was slightly bigger than a snitch. For some reason, I just couldn't think of anything to say to him. So I just stared at his ball. (…if I was more attracted to Oliver, I would crack a joke about that, but I'm not. I'm annoyed with him right now.)
"Who's Wilson?" I automatically asked when I saw the name printed in bold black letters on the front of the ball.
Oliver shrugged. "Maybe the former owner of the ball."
"You stole that from a random guy named Wilson?"
"Found it. I think it's used for muggle sports." Oliver replied.
"Right." I replied. What the hell. Why am I being civil with him? He's an asshole…
"Hey!"
I couldn't help but grin. While Oliver was dribbling his stupid ball, I snatched it from him. Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with me…
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
I felt the ball. "It's hairy…" I said with a laugh.
"More like fuzzy…" Oliver replied. "Where are you going?"
I had walked off with my gifts for Denise towards the checkout. I opened my mouth to reply, but decided against it. Let's see how he likes getting the cold shoulder…
I paid, and quickly left the store with Oliver at my heels…
"Give me back my ball!" Oliver demanded, trailing after me.
"You need two of them, mate." I replied. God, that felt good to say.
"What the hell is your problem?"
Oh. My. God. He's asking me what my problem is? "Are you serious?" I asked. "Me? The bumbling, idiotic klutz who has broomstick accidents? The ditz with the attention span of a moth who can't even master potions!"
"Ok!" Oliver exclaimed impatiently. "I didn't ask for the list!"
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"You're the jerk who said all those things to me!" I exclaimed, fighting the urge to chuck his stupid ball at him. "You owe me an apology!"
"I owe you an apology?" Oliver asked indignantly. "You're the one who brought this whole rift between us…getting all worked up about your tutoring sessions. You're the reason I got tricked into thinking I could get a Firebolt. You're the reason why Madeline's in pain every time she tries to eat or drink something, and you're the reason why I have to always hear about it! I think you owe me an apology!"
"Don't put Madeline's problems on me"—
"I'm not stupid, Suzie. I can add two and two. You feel insecure around Madeline, you always have. She told me so herself. And I know how women are…the minute you meet someone smarter and prettier than you, you automatically hate them. So you're jealous of her, and you were the one behind that whole toffee"—
I slapped him. I just slapped Oliver Wood. I didn't know how else to shut him up, so I slapped him. He looked at me like…well, like he had just been slapped. I felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at me with mingled surprise and hurt. But it melted almost instantly and was replaced by an angry glare.
"You're a freak, Hennessey. I don't want your worthless apology anyway." He said, backing away slowly and then turning to walk away.
"I don't want yours either!" I called back after him.
He kept walking, but raised two fingers at me, flipping me off.
"Go to hell!" I yelled, chucking his ball at him as hard as I could, ignoring the passersby who were watching the whole scene.
I seem to have excellent aim. I got him right in the head. He grunted when the ball hit him, and turning around, he looked wildly at me. The ball had bounced off his head and rolled back in my direction. He glanced down at it, and for a moment looked like he was going to get it, but then he glanced up, glared at me again, and walked away.
When he rounded the street corner and was out of sight, I went over and picked up the lime green ball and pocketed it, taking a moment to bow my head and wipe my eyes against my shoulders. I was going to meet Denise in a little bit and didn't want her to see me crying…
"Suzie, you are absolutely mad." Denise muttered as we followed our parents towards platform 9 ¾ at the end of the holidays.
Did you just figure that out?" I replied back, watching my and Denise's parents discuss the latest news on the Sirius Black hunt.
Denise shrugged. "I always knew you were a bit mad, but now it's all out in the open for everyone else to know about…Oliver knows."
"I don't care what he thinks of me. I don't care about him."
"So you're indifferent to him?"
"Yes."
"You slap people you're indifferent to?"
I was about to tell Denise to shut up, but when I glanced up to look at her, a group of men standing a few feet behind us caught my eye. Ernie Macmillan…and his dad. His silver-fox-of-a-sexy-I-want-to-be-your-young-tart-of-a-mistress dad. And of my God does he look nice in burgundy robes.
"Ah, the Macmillans…I should've guessed." Denise said, glancing over her shoulder to see what I was ogling at. "Hey who's that with them? Is that Vince?"
I unglued my gaze from Mr. Macmillan's profile to glance at the younger man with him, who was in fact Vince. Vince Macmillan to be precise. Ernie's older brother, who had graduated from Hogwarts a few years before us. Huh. I did not recall him looking that hot. He looks so sophisticated, just like his dad. Geez, their whole family looks sophisticated. And rich. I can totally see them living in some old ivy covered mansion, with furniture all made of either dark polished oak or some rich sort of leather. Mr. Macmillan probably has this amazingly elegant looking study with lots of dark red velvet and leather-bound books in there… I sighed, imagining Mr. Macmillan sitting in his study, in a dark red robe, smoking a cigar while he flips through some old, antiquated volume on magical history. I wonder what he would wear under those robes…
I glanced up again at that masterpiece of a family. Vince was staring at us. His look seemed to be of mingled curiosity and amusement. Huh. He finds us interesting? I could feel my mouth twitch with excitement as I quickly averted my gaze. I glanced over at Denise to see if she had noticed. She was blushing furiously and looked rather flustered.
"Er…when's the train leaving then?" she asked, looking at the ground as she adjusted her sleeves.
"11 o'clock" I said with a giggle, "as it always has." I glanced back at Vince. He wasn't looking at us. He had his attention turned to his father, who was addressing his sons in a serious tone. My, does he look good when he's serious. Er. Anyway. I watched as Vince listened to his father, nodding occasionally in acknowledgement of what he was saying, and then, he glanced at us again. Well, not us. At Denise. He was definitely looking at Denise. And just as quickly as he had glanced up, he averted his gaze back to his father. And a moment later, he repeated the whole cycle.
Poor Denise was blushing profusely. I couldn't help but grin. Their kids would be gorgeous. I fanned myself even though the air was freezing. "My, it's getting hot out here…" I said, winking at Denise, who in turn looked reproachfully at me as she picked up the handle of her trunk.
"We should go find some seats…" she said, and before I could reply, Denise had hurried off to say goodbye to her parents, and then turned to go find some seats on the train.
I glanced up at Vince, who was shaking Ernie's hand, probably bidding him goodbye. He sure was good-looking. With a sigh, I grabbed my own things and turned to my parents to say goodbye to them. After I had done so (and promised my mum I wouldn't try hitting on any of my professors), I headed out to board the train. As I climbed the steps of the train, I heard a heavy, gruff voice that sounded slightly familiar a little ways from me.
"Now don't you forget what I talked about, Oliver…"
I glanced over my shoulder and almost tripped on the steps of the train. It was Oliver and his dad, and gosh he's just as intimidating-looking as I remember. Oliver shrugged in response, digging his hands into his pockets. Mr. Wood in turn leaned in closer, and hissed something at Oliver that I didn't catch. As he pulled away, he looked at his son challengingly, and then stepped back so Mrs. Wood could bid her son farewell. Oliver, whose countenance looked rather stiff at the moment, softened considerably for his mum. She smiled weakly, and saying something quietly to him, she got on her toes and pulled Oliver in for a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek. As they pulled away from each other, Oliver glanced up, and our eyes met briefly. His face hardened as his cheeks turned pink. I immediately turned away, now feeling slightly embarrassed that I had observed the scene with his parents. I doubt he'd have wanted me to see that, especially the bit with his dad…
"Suzie!"
I glanced up, and saw Denise's head bobbing out of one of the train windows. "Come on! I've got seats saved!"
I hurried up the steps of the train and soon found Denise. I dropped my bag in the seat across from her and stood silently for a moment.
Denise glanced expectantly at me. "Er"—
"I…I'll be back."
I turned on my heel and left the compartment, just in time to see Oliver boarding the train, sliding into a compartment a few feet from ours. I followed him, not quite sure what I was doing, or what I was going to do. I just knew I was feeling bad about it. It being everything. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt myself saying the things I said to Professor Lupin a few weeks ago, and I imagined Oliver reacting the same way. But would he? He doesn't seem nearly as astute as Lupin…but I could be wrong. All I know is I hate this…thing…whatever this is I've got going with Oliver.
I knocked on the compartment door, biting my upper lip nervously, half wondering if it was too late to run.
"It's open…" came Oliver's voice. Damn. Too late. I slid open the door, and to my surprise, found Oliver sitting by himself.
"Hi" I said. Well, squeaked, more like it.
He didn't reply. Um…ok. I want to bolt.
"Can I join you for a bit?" I asked.
Oliver shrugged, pulling out a copy of Quidditch Illustrated from his pocket. It had a picture of a woman on the cover—she was wearing a bikini and a witch's hat, and was straddling the new Firebolt. Soooo tempted to ask if he finds that hot. Right. So not the time. I took a seat across from him.
"So…um…" I started quietly, watching Oliver. He didn't look up from his magazine. I waited for a moment, not quite sure if I should say anything since he wasn't even looking at me.
"See my parents?" he asked abruptly, still staring intently at his magazine.
"Er"—
"They're really nice folks, my parents."
"I'm sure…"
"Even my dad."
I cocked an eyebrow at him, feeling a bit scared now at where this conversation was going. "Er…I believe you."
Oliver dropped his magazine on his lap. "I saw you…I saw how you were watching us, and if you came here to act all superior and sympathetic with me, then you can go to hell!"
"No…I didn't come here to act like that…" I said automatically. "I just…well"—
"Well what?" Oliver cut in impatiently.
"I really like you." I found myself saying. Oh Merlin, what am I doing? "I've like you for a while, actually…I just thought I'd tell you that."
I sighed heavily. I think I said all of that in one breath. Damnit. That's probably why I said it…not enough oxygen going to my brain…I wasn't thinking straight. Why, oh why did I say that to him?
"Oh"—
The compartment door slid open, and I felt my heart do a back flip. It was Madeline. "There you are!" she said, walking past me to join Oliver, throwing her arms around him. "I've been looking all over for you! Had a good holiday?"
Without waiting for his response though, Madeline turned to me and smiled her signature phony smile. "How about you, Suzie? Are you going to be joining us for the trip back? I thought you would be sitting with Denise!"
God, her voice is fake. I smiled back at her, probably equally fake as hers, and said, "My holiday was fine. I was just going actually to join Denise."
"Oh, alright." She said, still smiling. I swear, she risks cracking her face with that smile. I got up and headed out of the compartment. I have no idea how my legs carried me all the way to my own compartment, as I couldn't even feel my stupid limbs. I can't believe I just told Oliver how I felt. I mean, that wasn't an absolute declaration on my feelings; if I wanted to be more thorough I would've thrown in some comments on my fetish for broomsticks and whatnot, but still…he got the gist of it. The worst part is though I didn't even get to see him react. Stupid Madeline. Damn her for ruining everything. Now I don't even know what to expect when I see Oliver around school.
Just as I opened the door to the compartment I was sharing with Denise, Ernie Macmillan popped out of it, running right into me.
"Oh! My apologies…" he said quickly, nodding at me as he moved out of the way.
"Er, yeah, whatever." I replied, glancing briefly at him and then looking to Denise, who sat in the corner, looking a bit flustered. I came in and took a seat across from her, shutting the compartment door with my foot. I stared straight at Denise, wondering if I should ask her what the hell Ernie was talking to her about, or if I should dive right into the news about what my stupidity has led me to do this time.
"What did he want?" I asked almost automatically. For some reason, the idea of telling Denise what I had just done scared me a little.
Denise carefully adjusted the pleats on her skirt. "Er…well, Ernie…he um…came to give me his approval."
"Um…what?" I asked.
"For getting involved with his brother Vince, if I choose to do so…" Denise said quietly, rolling her eyes.
I snorted. Well, that settles it. The Macmillans are more old school than the cousins on my dad's side of the family (they have to go on all their dates with chaperones until they're of age). "Before we even get into talking about Vince…we need to spend some time mocking Ernie…"
Denise giggled. "Oh, Suzie…come on…"
"Seriously! He's like, thirteen years old"—
Denise shrugged. "He acts pretty mature"—
"And he's acting like your future father-in-law or something!"
"It was stupid, I know…but kind of cute at the same time…" Denise said.
"Luckily he won't be your father-in-law though. Just your brother-in-law…." I continued, grinning while Denise scowled at me.
"I haven't even agreed to go out with him yet," Denise said. "Ernie just came in and said that his brother seemed interested in me today, and that if I choose to start a relationship with him, he, Ernie, would be completely fine with it, because I'm a 'nice, upstanding young woman'."
I giggled. "Yes, you are…"
Denise glared at me. "Shut up…"
"Hey, wouldn't it be crazy if you married him?" I asked. "Oh! And if I married Mr. Macmillan? Then you'd be like, my stepdaughter!"Denise rolled her eyes. "Your mind never tires…""Never.""You do know Mr. Macmillan is married, don't you?"I shrugged nonchalantly. "It can break…"Denise rolled her eyes again, but sniggered. "Home-wrecker.""What? I wouldn't try to break the marriage! It would fall on its own…and then I'd swoop in to comfort poor Mr. Macmillan…" I replied.Do you even know his first name?""Mister?""You've got a better shot with Lupin, dear. At least he's single…and you know his first name.""Are you encouraging me?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively at her."Oh gosh, no." she replied. "Merlin knows you need no encouragement…"
We sat in silence for a moment, and in that moment my mind wandered back to Oliver. I thought again to tell Denise about what I had said to him, but I saw the look on her face. She was still pink and rosy, I'm assuming from the discussion of Vince with Ernie and then with me. I could tell she was attracted to Vince. Well, who wouldn't be? He looked like a younger version of his dad!
"So…do you think I should go for Vince…I mean, if he really likes me?"
I rolled my eyes, smiling at her as I pushed the matter of Oliver to the back of my mind in order to focus on Denise and her newfound love interest...
