"I want to dye my hair," Lenore said as she ran the brush down her long mane. The girls were sitting in the courtyard after classes and catching up on the latest gossip in their lives. It had been four days since the Randall escapades and still no retaliation from him. As Randall liked to move quickly, it was nearly guaranteed the sisters would not have to deal with him again for a while.
Lenore examined the split ends in her hair as Margaux sat reading the muggle book Catcher in the Rye. "Maybe I'll go darker."
"How?" Margaux asked, putting her book down.
"With hair dye?"
"No, how will you dye your hair?"
Lenore gave her sister a questioning glance. "With hair dye. From the store."
Margaux looked at her sister like she was the stupidest person alive. "No! What color will you dye your hair, you dense bimbo!"
Lenore tilted her head and said icily, "I already said 'darker', geez."
Margaux crossed her arms. "I thought last week you said you wanted to go lighter."
"I might have changed my mind," Lenore argued.
Margaux clenched her fists. Sometimes, her sister annoyed the living piss out of her. Both of them were so stubborn that it could sometimes be difficult to communicate. But they managed and would later laugh about it.
"I've got to go, Len," Margaux said. She gathered her school supplies together and shoved them into her backpack.
Lenore put her hairbrush away. "Where are you going?"
Margaux sighed. "I have to go tutor some stupid kid in History of Magic. Binns is making me do it as punishment for calling a Slytherin girl in my year 'a dumb floozy'."
"I'm surprised Binns even heard you," Lenore said. "Normally he isn't the most observant."
"Well…" Margaux said, "I kind of shouted it. In the middle of his lecture."
"What?" Lenore laughed.
Margaux threw up her hands. "It wasn't my fault! She was whispering dirty stuff to her boyfriend behind me and I couldn't focus on the lecture! So, I turned around and just stated the facts. Loudly. And Binns stopped the lecture to tell me to be quiet, but everyone was laughing at that point, so now I have to tutor somebody who is near failure in that class."
"You have to tutor the Slytherin girl?"
"Oh god, I hope not. No, I think Binns said it was somebody in your year."
"You are tutoring somebody older than you?" Lenore questioned.
"Yes," Margaux boasted, "because I am a smart cookie."
"Ha ha," Lenore mused. "I wonder who it is. It might be Anthony Goldstein. Alicia Spinett told me he wasn't doing too great. He failed the last test because he fell asleep during note taking. You'll have to tell me who it is."
"I will," Margaux said. She checked her watch. "I need to go before I'm late. Bye, Len."
Her sister waved goodbye and she took off speed walking to the History of Magic classroom. She arrived with one minute to spare, but Professor Binns was the only one in the room. His transparent body did not get up to greet her. He merely sat at his desk and clasped his hands together.
"Ah," he said in his usual monotone voice, "Miss Henry. Hello."
Margaux set her things down on a front row desk. "Hi, Professor."
Binns titled his head down to some papers at the front of his desk. "Those are for you. Your mentee is not yet here, but he should hopefully be arriving soon."
Margaux scanned through the papers inside the manila folder. "Do you mind if I ask who I'm tutoring?"
At the moment, Dean Thomas burst through the door and shouted "Sorry I'm late, Professor!"
He made eye contact with Margaux.
"Oh, hell no," she said. She closed the folder. "Professor, I can't tutor him."
Dean looked dejected, but Margaux did not care.
"Miss Henry, you can and you will," Binns said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have research to do in my office. I may check up on you anytime during the next hour and I better hear the sounds of studying."
He floated into his office at the back of the room and shut the door.
"Henry, after all I've done for you?" Dean feigned despair. He clutched his heart.
"Dean," she said. "I like you, I really do. But I came here to tutor and you are going to make that difficult."
Dean started to unpack his scrolls of notes. "I am offended. I'll have you know, I will be a wonderful student of yours."
Margaux took a seat at one of the double desks. "Uh huh, I'm sure."
"Really," he said. "Look, I've already got out all my notes on this subject and I brought quills and everything."
Margaux held up his scroll of paper. It contained roughly one paragraph of notes and not a single full sentence on the page. "'All your notes'?" she quoted back.
Dean looked over his words. "Yes, all my notes. Is there a problem?"
"Dean, this looks like you got the first five minutes of the lecture and then dozed off."
"I got all the notes I was awake for," he said.
Margaux groaned. "Dean…"
"Margaux…" he mimicked her whine.
She took a deep breath. "Do you not understand the subject or are you just bored?"
Dean looked over his notes. "I think both. I don't understand this whole house elves things."
"What about them?"
"Why are they so obedient. If I were them, I'd be outta there."
Margaux looked through Binns' papers. She handed one to Dean. "Read over this."
Dean attempted to pass it back to her. "Can you read it to me?"
She shoved it back at him. "You are fully capable of reading."
"That's not really tutoring, though, is it?" he said. "It's more like lecturing."
"How is me not talking like lecturing?"
"The voice inside my head is lecturing to me."
"I would be lecturing to you by speaking," Margaux said. She was beginning to get annoyed, just as she predicted.
"But your voice is so much nicer than the one in my head."
"No," she said, "you read it out loud to me."
Dean frowned. "Fine."
He dramatically shook the piece of parchment and cleared his throat. "AHEM! 'Houses elves are subject to all the laws of their governing wizard ministry. This includes felonies, misdemeanors, or any fines that punish human magical persons. In addition, house elves may have additional laws placed upon them. In the Britain, special Elf Legislation was passed in—'"
"Margaux," he stopped, "this is so dull, dear God."
"Just keep reading!" she encouraged.
Dean groaned and turned his eyes back down to the page.
"'—passed in 1652 that clarified a house elf's role in magical society. House elves are also strictly bound by their own code of ethics that they hold in high regard. A house elf rarely compromises their moral code and if they do, they feel the need to punish themselves."
Dean continued reciting the words on the page until he finished the first side of the paper. He started to flip it over, but Margaux smacked the paper down on the table.
"Okay, now tell me three things you learned on the page," she commanded him.
"Three things?!" Dean exclaimed. "I didn't learn one bloody thing!"
"Come on," Margaux said, "I know you learned three things. You had to have learn something, because you obviously knew nothing before."
"Alright, I guess I learned that house elves have that moral code they feel obligated to follow. Secondly, the Ministry has laws to protect house elves from mistreatment, but they are not enforced. And I suppose lastly, that house elves can be put on wizard trials for any crimes they commit."
"Good!" she encouraged. "You are learning!"
"Learning how much I hate this subject," he grumbled.
"You did already know that, though."
"That's so true," Dean said. "This class is the worst. It's even dumber your fifth year, if you can believe that."
"I like this class," Margaux said. "It's fascinating."
"Wait," Dean said, "how are you tutoring me if you're a year below than me?"
Margaux explained her punishment and Dean laughed.
"Also, I'm really good at this class," Margaux said.
"If you weren't so hot-headed, you wouldn't have been in Ravenclaw," Dean said.
"I am not hot-headed!" Margaux said.
"You are shouting right now," Dean pointed out.
Margaux furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, my family on my dad's side was Ravenclaw for generations, literally every single one of them who went to Hogwarts. Ravenclaws married Ravenclaws. And then Lenore came around and ruined that with her… Lenore-iness."
Dean smiled. "You ruined it too, with your Margaux-iness."
"I'm too aggressive to be a Ravenclaw."
"You aren't lying," Dean laughed.
Margaux pointed down at the papers on the desk and smiled. "Keep reading."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dean read silently for the next thirty minutes, occasionally asking Margaux a question about the material. On the hour, Professor Binns emerged from his office and excused them.
"You wanna grab dinner with me?" Dean asked as he pointed towards the Great Hall.
Margaux hesitated. Normally, she ate with her roommates. But she agreed and followed Dean to the feast.
"Hey," Dean said, "how do you feel, after Randall's punch? Is everything okay now?"
Margaux gulped. "Yeah!" She rubbed her cheek where Randall's fist had met her face. "I feel fine. Every so often It's a bit sore, but it's only been a few days, so that's normal I'm sure."
"Good, I'm glad he didn't hurt you too badly."
"Thanks for punching him back," she said.
Dean unexpectedly looked embarrassed. "Oh, uh, no problem."
She smiled as he held the door to the Great Hall open for her.
"Did you want to sit together or…?" Dean trailed off.
"We can sit together. My mates will be fine. But I don't think Seamus will be too happy."
Dean swirled around to the direction Margaux was looking. Seamus was heading straight for him with a huge grin on his face.
"Nice of ya to finally join us!" Seamus said as he put his arm around Dean's shoulder. That did not work very well, as Dean was nearly eight inches taller than Seamus. Seamus's arms were high above his own head, but he still dragged Dean over to his spot with Neville.
"Oh, uh, Seamus," Dean started, "Margaux is eating with us."
Seamus turned his head so Margaux could not see him. He gave Dean an impish, convoluted grin. "Oh really?"
He smiled to Margaux. "Why are you joining us lads?"
She replied with pep. "Because I feel like I need a change, just for today."
"Alrighty then," Seamus gestured, "welcome to the cool table."
Margaux arrived at an empty section where Neville sat alone, trying to clean up some water he spilled down his shirt.
"Miss your mouth, did ya?" Seamus asked as he sat next to Neville. Dean and Margaux took their place across the wooden dining table.
Neville set the handkerchief napkin back on the table as he blushed. "I-I did, actually. Hi, Margaux."
"Hi!" she said. "So, what's up with you lot?"
At that moment, the evening feast appeared on the table. Tonight, the kitchen elves had prepared baked chicken, green and purple salad leaves, dinner rolls, macaroni and cheese, and for dessert, apple bread.
"We've got O.W.L.s next week, so we'll probably be studying all this weekend," Dean said.
Seamus groaned. "I'm so done with this whole studying this alr—"
He stopped as he noticed Margaux piling mac n' cheese high on her dinner plate. Dean and Neville stared as well. The heap of gooey pasta was probably half her plate and seventeen centimeters tall.
"Are you going to be able to eat all that?" Seamus pointed.
Margaux placed one more scoop of the macaroni on her plate and glared at them without shame. "Yes."
They all watched as she began eating.
"What's wrong with you all?" she challenged. "Never seen a girl eat before?"
"Sorry," Dean said quickly, as he tore his eyes away. "You're just so tiny, I didn't know you ate."
"You 'didn't know I ate'?" she quoted. Ooo, Dean was going to start a fight, yet. She thought things had been going well, but that was about to change. "What does that mean? In your world, do girls not eat? Am I not supposed to eat, so I can please you guys? Was I supposed to grab that salad and starve to death? Would that have made you more comfortable?"
"Merlin, Margaux," Seamus laughed. "We're sorry. Please, we didn't mean anything by it."
Margaux raised her eyebrows, crammed some more pasta in her mouth, and brightened up with the words "I forgive you."
"Your forgiveness means the world," Seamus said sarcastically.
Margaux smiled. "So, how're the O.W.L.s going? Which one are y'all scared of?"
"Y'all?" Dean raised his eyebrows.
Margaux's hands raced to cover her mouth. "Sorry," she said with embarrassment. "Sometimes that American comes out in me."
"I don't know, y'all," Seamus said in a fake Southern draw. "I might mosey on down to the liberry and find me a study group to lend a quick howdy to."
Margaux laughed. "That wasn't half bad. But you don't say 'I might', say 'I'm fixin' to"."
Seamus pumped his fists like a prospector in a cartoon. "I'm fixin' tuh get me some more of this grub!" he said as he reached for the serving spoon.
"Spot on," Margaux giggled.
"How long did you live in the States?" asked Dean.
Margaux took a bit of her food. "From birth until I was nine. But I didn't live in the South, so I don't why why Seamus is mocking me in that accent."
Seamus smiled. "I can't do any other one. Why were you born there?"
"What do you mean 'why?'" Margaux laughed. "I didn't choose it."
"No!" he clarified. "Aren't your parents English?"
"My dad is. My mom is, too, but she moved over there when she was like four years old. She was in the American military for a little while, that got her a job in civilian work for the government, she took a job at the U.S. Embassy, met my British dad, then he took a job teaching at a university in America, so they moved back. They had me and Lenore, then my dad started looking for jobs in the U.K. so we could go to Hogwarts instead of Ivermony. It took him a while, but we moved when I was nine and Lenore was ten. Then I went to muggle school here for two years, then Hogwarts. Did you know Dean and I went to the same primary school for a year?"
"He's only mentioned it about a thousand times," Seamus laughed.
Margaux glanced over to him and smiled. "Yeah, he and Lenore were the same year but different classrooms. I was a year below. We live in the same neighborhood, I guess."
"By the university?"
She nodded. "Pretty close. Not in those rowhouses, in that neighborhood with the single homes with yards."
"I live in the rowhouses," he smiled. "You must live on the ritzy streets. Like Christchurch."
"You're pretty damn close. Allcroft."
"Allcroft?" Dean gasped. "Holy shit, Mar, you're loaded!"
"Shh!" she smiled. "It's just a nice house, calm down."
"I live in De Beauvoir," he said. "Mar, you live like a 15 minute walk from me."
"That's a cute street!"
"I like it," he grinned.
Margaux pointed at Seamus. "Did you go to muggle school?"
He nodded. "I went to a Catholic boys school."
"Ew," she said. "No wonder you're so awkward around girls."
"Hey!" he laughed. "You should talk to Neville! At least I interacted with people my own age!"
Margaux turned to Neville. "What?"
"He didn't go to school," Seamus tilted his head towards the boy.
Margaux crinkled her nose. "You didn't go to school?"
Neville was clearly flustered. "I-I... n-no, not like y-you all did. My grandmother taught me, o-or, twice a week I'd go to a tutor with some other pureblood kids."
"Who?" Margaux asked.
"Umm... Ernie MacMillian. Susan Bones. Hannah Abbott. Stephen Cornfoot. Crabbe and Goyle."
"You knew Crabbe and Goyle before Hogwarts?" Seamus gapped, along with the other two.
"W-we all kind of k-knew each other," Neville said. "W-we weren't friends. There was really time to talk. B-but y-yeah, I grew up around a lot of these people."
"I didn't know that," Dean said.
Neville nodded but stayed silent.
"I'm kind of sad I didn't live in one place my entire life," Margaux said. "Sometimes I wish I still went to the muggle school I did in America, just so I could watch everyone grow up."
"It's weird watching people grow up," Seamus said. "We've seen everyone our age since they were eleven. Now they're out drinking, doing drugs, talking about getting laid. That's the weirdest part."
"I know!" Margaux's hand banged on the table. "Like my roommate the other day was talking about sucking a boy off, but I still think of her as eleven. I still think of myself as eleven."
"Which roommate is this?" Seamus's eyes widened.
Margaux reached across the table and threw a piece of bread at him.
"Alright!" he laughed. "Sorry!"
"None of your damn business, that's who," she said firmly. "She's not sucking you off, you arse."
Seamus smiled. "I am sorry, Margaux. It's a joke."
"Your sex life is a joke," she muttered.
Neville and Dean roared with laughter and even Seamus cracked a smile. "Okay, you little wench, how's your love coming?"
"I'm not coming, that's for sure."
Dean nearly spit his drink back into his glass, which made Margaux howl. "I'm kidding!" she said as she patted his back.
"So you are cumming?" Seamus teased.
"Shut up," she smiled. "I'm completely joking. I don't and won't do that."
"Why not?" Seamus asked.
She gave him a disgusted look. "I'm fifteen. I'm basically a freshman in high school."
"I watch American movies," Seamus said. "I know freshman in high schools do it."
"I know," she said. "Plenty of them do. Even here at Hogwarts. But I don't want to."
"That's fine," Dean spoke up. "Don't do anything you don't want to."
"Dean doesn't want to do it, either," Seamus spoke up. "Something about values or something."
Margaux turned to Dean. "Were you raised religious?"
He nodded. "Yeah, but that's not why. I just think waiting for a solid relationship is better."
"Dean!" she laughed. "I thought you were a player."
"What?" his mouth dropped open. "Where would you get that idea?"
"You flirt with everyone," she smiled from behind her water glass.
"I..." He started to argue, but fell silent. "Okay, I'm just charming."
Margaux laughed. "Sure."
"I am!"
"So are you waiting until marriage?" she asked.
"No!" he said. "No. Just like... I don't know. A good relationship. Maybe a couple months or something. It just depends. Also, how old I am."
"You just turned sixteen?"
He nodded and Margaux joined him. "Makes sense."
Seamus spoke up. "Neville here is waiting for marriage."
"No I'm not!" he argued.
"You're not?" Margaux laughed.
"N-no," he said. "I-I'm just waiting for..."
"Anybody who'll let him!" Seamus cut in.
"No!"
Margaux giggled. "You're the monogamous type, aren't you?"
"W-what do you mean?" Neville asked.
"I mean, you're not the type to go on a bunch of dates. You want a relationship."
He nodded. "Y-yeah, I guess. I-I'm like Dean."
Margaux smiled. "Me, too. I think a lot of my friends are. Lenore's the one with slutty friends."
"Lenore has slutty friends?" Seamus clapped his hands together in interest.
Margaux threw another dinner roll at him, but he dodged it. "Shut up, Seamus. You know her friends get around. Her roommates never shut up about sex and she never shuts up about sex when she's around them."
"Lenore's had sex?" Dean gapped.
"No!" Margaux said at once. "No. And don't start that rumor."
"What has Lenore done?" Seamus asked.
"How the fuck should I know?" Margaux said with food in her mouth. "We don't talk about out love lives."
"So how do you know she hasn't had sex?"
Margaux did not hesitate. "Because she literally hates men."
Seamus and Dean laughed, but Neville asked, "W-what do you mean?"
"I mean, she's the coldest girl I've ever met. She doesn't flirt, she's outright mean, she turns boys down or cuts them off entirely. Like, let me give you an example. I was asked out last month by Colin Creevey. We're just friends. I gently told him no thanks, not now, and we're still friends. I casually slipped him back into the friend zone and I don't even think he knows it happened."
Neville nodded.
"Lenore, on the other hand... One time this guy, Horatio Pershore was flirting with her. He asked her out and she said and I am quoting, 'No. Get away from me.' Then she stopped talking to him entirely. Anytime he would try to contact her, she would tell him to go fuck himself."
Dean and Seamus laughed. "Geez," Seamus smiled. "I always knew Lenore was a cold bitch-"
"There's a big difference between Colin and Horatio," Neville interrupted.
Margaux turned to look at him. He had not stuttered. And he talked without being asked a question. Her mouth dropped open.
"Colin is a nice guy," Neville said. "Horatio is an arse who probably harassed her."
Margaux nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, Neville, you're right. She attracts the worst type of guys. I don't. You're completely right. Every boy I know who's been into Lenore, he's the biggest prat on this planet."
"Oliver Rivers," Neville whispered.
Margaux set her fork on her plate and pushed it away from herself. "Yep. I heard about that."
Neville fell silent and Margaux stared at him. "You've been awfully quiet tonight."
"He's always like this," Dean laughed
"But he's got some funny quips now and again, so we keep him around," Seamus joked.
"Thanks, lads," Neville said quietly.
"So, what's up with you?" Margaux asked. "Since you never spoke up when I first asked."
"Um," Neville said shyly, "not much."
Margaux laid her face against her fist that was propped up on the table. "Booooring," she said, which caused Neville to nervously tense. "I know you must have an interesting life, Longbottom. Tell me something I don't know about your life."
"I, um," Neville thought a moment, "I have no idea."
Margaux stared at him. "Why aren't you a Hufflepuff?"
"I ask myself that every day."
Margaux laughed. "I do, too, honestly. If I weren't a Gryffindor, I'd be a Hufflepuff."
"I-I almost got put in Hufflepuff during the first year Sorting Ceremony. I probably would have fit in better there."
"I am not surprised," Margaux grinned. "You do come across as a Hufflepuff, but the hat's never wrong. Just because you don't do stupid things like Dean and Seamus here doesn't mean you aren't a Gryffindor."
"Hey," Seamus said,"you do some pretty stupid stuff, too, ya hot-head."
Margaux shot him a dirty look. "Anyways, Neville, we're all here for a reason."
"What would you do if you were put in Slytherin?" Dean asked.
"Oh, yuck!" Margaux said. "I wouldn't last one day. I would murder somebody. Bunch of stuck up wussies."
"Your sister a 'stuck up wussy'?" Seamus laughed.
Margaux shrugged. "I wouldn't use those harsh words exactly… I'd use slightly nicer synonyms."
Dean and Seamus laughed. Neville smiled uncomfortably.
"I love her, though," Margaux said as she took a sip of her water. "That's just how sisters talk. I'm sure she says the same about me. But at the end of the day, we have fun together. Nevertheless, I'd die as a Slytherin. Me and my roommates play games and talk. Lenore and her roommates trade mean comments and fight."
Neville asked quietly, "Do you think Lenore is mean?"
"Nah," Margaux said. "She can be if you piss her off, like I do quite often, but to the general population, she's perfectly nice. Slytherins want to be liked, you know. You generally can't be liked if you're a bitch. coughPansyParkinsoncough. Oh, excuse me! I had something in my throat. coughlikePansyontheweekendscough."
The boys roared with laughter, especially Seamus. It was a lovely dinner.
.
Lenore's POV
Across the Great Hall, Lenore and Odette sat together as usual for supper. Odette's plate only featured a few leafs of bitter salad. Last week, she allowed a sixth year Hufflepuff boy call her fat, without her replying a word. Lenore noticed her lack of appetite and commented.
"Honey, you need to eat. You are not fat."
"I am," Odette sighed as she picked at the green leaves on her plate.
Meanwhile, Lenore placed a third dinner roll on her plate. "Odette, you are skinnier than me and I don't think I'm fat."
"You look cute today," dodged Odette. "I like how you clipped your bangs to the side."
"You look cute every day," Lenore offered. "And don't you ever let some pimply-faced male speak to you like that ever again. Being passive-aggressive is just as bad as Randall h—"
"Okay!" Odette interjected. She covered ears with her palms. "I get it!"
"I'm just concerned about you!" Lenore said loudly enough for Odette to hear through her makeshift earmuffs. "New topic, though!"
They finished out the meal with a nice conversation about their Potions homework. When their plates were cleared, they made their way back to the dorm room for the evening. Neither of them had plans, other than studying for O.W.L.s, and besides, Umbridge had instituted some rather rough curfew rules that mostly confined students to their common rooms after supper.
The girls entered the dimly lit Slytherin common room. It was a grand entryway that reminded Lenore of an old muggle bank she once toured. High ceilings decorated with silver art, wide staircases to the right and left, which led up to a second story open hallway lined with chairs and tables. Their room was the one closest to the balcony overlooking the common room. Lenore stopped at the top of the stairs.
"Wait," Lenore put her arm in front of Odette. The girls halted a few steps from their door. "Do you hear that?"
The Slytherins stood completely still for a few seconds. In the distance, they could hear moaning. Bed springs creaked.
"Someone is having sex!" Odette hissed. "Who could it be?"
"It's either coming from our room or the girls across the hall. Let's get closer."
They took a few paces forward and craned their ears towards the dreadful sound.
"It's definitely coming from our room," Lenore said. "Great."
"Who is it though?" Odette asked.
"Well Odette, since we're the only two virgins, it could literally any of the others."
"Not Pansy," Odette figured out. "I saw her at dinner."
Lenore nodded. "So, Circe or Blair. But how did she get a boy up here?"
"Yeah!" Odette wondered. "I have no idea! I've heard stories of girls figuring out way to do it without the stairs collapsing, but I don't know the logistics."
Lenore took a seat in the hallway. Odette did the same. The plush green carpet felt itchy on her bare legs, but she endured it. "I guess we'll just have to wait here. Unless you wanted to go down to the common room?"
Odette shook her head. "And see all the douche bags we passed coming up here? No thanks."
Lenore smiled. In the distance, she could hear playful giggles. She winced. "We'll have to talk loudly to drown out that awful noise."
Odette nodded vigorously. "Definitely. So… what's up with you?"
"Not much. I'm just trying not to fail Arithmancy."
"I hate Professor Vector," Odette sighed. "She takes everything too seriously."
"I mean, she's not bad, I just hate the subject. Numbers get jumbled in my brain."
Odette agreed. "I don't want any job that involves math. I still think I want to be a librarian."
"That would be fun!" Lenore said. "I'm going to be a reporter for the Daily Prophet. As long as it's not as corrupt as it is now. If it is, I'll write for Witch Weekly."
"You'd be good at that!"
"We can start out own column— Two Virgins, One Advice Column. It's all about us giving our ignorant advice on sex."
"Brilliant," Odette said.
Pansy emerged from the staircase. "And just why are my two virgins sitting in the hallway?"
"Go put your ear against our bedroom door," Lenore said.
Pansy gave them a suspicious look. She obeyed and leaned close to the wooden door. She, too, heard moans unmistakably caused by lovemaking.
"Oh hell no," Pansy groaned. "I wanted to hide Circe's record player before she got back to the room."
She sat down with Odette and Lenore. "But since Blair and Mallory are going at it, I guess you lot get to entertain me."
Odette and Lenore looked at each other. "Let's play a game," Odette suggested.
"Okay," Pansy said. "since we have to endure these godawful sounds, let's play the Sex Number game."
"What's the Sex Number game?" Blair asked as she entered the hallway. Her black hair was twisted up in three different buns across her head. Pansy had previously made fun of her for this hairstyle, but Mallory said it was cute, so Blair had been wearing it like that the past week. She looked towards their closed bedroom door. "And why are you all out here?"
"So, it's definitely Circe," Pansy said. "Circe is inside fucking somebody."
Blair pretended to vomit. She took a seat near all the girls. "Let's play this game, then."
"Okay," Pansy said. "The Sex Number game is really easy. You count up all the numbers you have done. You can only count a number for each person. For example, Blair, since you're a monogamous slut, you only get five points for sleeping with Mallory, not five points every time you've slept with him. But if you've done this stuff with multiple boys, count each number for each boy. The numbers are: one point for kissing, two for making out, three for hand stuff, four for oral stuff, and five for sex. Do you all get it?"
The girls all nodded.
"Alright," Pansy said. "Everyone add up your numbers. Lenore, I know you're not good at math, but I'm pretty sure even you can count to zero."
Lenore glared at Pansy but continued to think back to make sure she didn't miss anything.
"Odette," Pansy asked, "what's your number?"
Odette continued to count on her fingers. She flipped her curly blonde hair behind her shoulders and announced "Twelve."
"TWELVE?" Lenore proclaimed. "HOW?"
"Odette does all that hand stuff," Pansy brushed aside. "Blair, what about you?"
"Nineteen," Blair said proudly.
"I've got you all beat," Pansy said. "Thirty-eight."
"Merlin H. Wizard, Pansy," Odette said. "Thirty-eight?"
Lenore sat back in silence. She hoped Pansy would forget all about asking her.
"Lenore?" Pansy turned to her and smirked.
She bit her lip. "Can I get a half point for hand-holding?"
Pansy nearly choked on her laughter. "No! Tell us your number, Henry."
"Two."
Pansy raised her eyebrows. "Two? You've only kissed two boys?"
"No," Lenore said. "I've only made out with one boy."
"Who?" Pansy asked, still surprised.
"Blaise."
"You've snogged Blaise?" Pansy asked, surprised and a little territorial. "Bloody hell, when?"
"Earlier this year. At a party."
Pansy crossed her arms. "You? You made out with someone without wanting a relationship?"
"Yes," Lenore argued. "I'm not a prude."
"Lenore, admit it, you're a mega virgin," Pansy rolled her eyes. "You are a prude."
"Nooo," Lenore said. "I'm just picky. I could have more points, but I choose not to."
"That is the definition of 'prude'," Pansy pointed out.
"You'd rather I dated the three losers who asked me out this year?"
Pansy shrugged. "You deserve a lil' cock, honey."
Lenore stuck her tongue out. "I don't want to sleep with anybody yet."
"What if you had said yes to Oliver Rivers?" Pansy asked. "Would you have fucked him eventually?"
"No, yuck."
"What about Longbottom, would you fuck him?"
Lenore screwed up her face, which made Pansy laugh. Before she could argue, Pansy shouted, "Longbottom is that type of guy who cums while you're still undoing his zipper."
Blair laughed so hard she toppled over onto the ground. Odette collasped on top of her in a fit of giggles. Lenore pouted.
"Well, that's mean," she said quietly.
Pansy just shrugged. Lenore knew she should yell at Pansy, but for whatever reason, she could not bring herself to do it. Talking to Pansy had always been a game of "Pick Your Battle" and Lenore often chose not to take up arms. It was not worth the hassle. And yet, she immediately felt racked with guilt for not defending Neville.
"Why wouldn't you sleep with them?" Odette asked. "He's sweet."
Lenore hesitated. This question was so dumb. "Because I only want to sleep with somebody I fancy, and I don't fancy either of them at the moment."
"'At the moment'?" Blair's eyes grew wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Henry, don't tell me you fancy Longbottom," Pansy shouted. "I will never speak to you again."
"Would that really be such a bad thing?" Lenore asked before she fully thought out her words.
Pansy sat up on her knees and Lenore instantly regretted her word choice. "Would what be a bad thing? You liking Longbottom? Yes. Me never talking to you? Yes. Both are bad."
"No no no," Lenore clarified. "I meant you never talking to me. I don't fancy Neville."
"Good," Pansy said. "Even though he's a pureblood, you can do better."
"Pansy," Lenore said, rubbing her temples, "you and Circe are the only purebloods in our room. You're the only pureblood sitting in this hallway right now. We could all jump you."
"Alright, sorry," Pansy said. "I'm not saying purebloods are better—"
"You literally say that all the time," Odette interrupted.
Pansy glared over to her. "Yes… but anyone can fuck. Muggles do it. Primates do it. Anyone can do it."
"So, muggles and primates are the same to you?" Lenore challenged.
"What if you just fuck Longbottom," Blair said to stop the boiling argument, "to get all that sexual tension out of the way?"
"SEXUAL TENSION?" Lenore exclaimed. "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"
She stared at Blair like she had just said the most ridiculous, baseless accusation, which she did. There was absolutely no sexual tension between her and Neville. Neville was the least sexual person she talked to.
"We see the way he looks at you," Blair said. "I was just kidding about him fancying you before our prank on Randall. But then I saw you two together. They write songs about the way he looks at you."
"Yeah," Pansy said, "it's called 'I'll Be Watching You' by Poison Potion."
Her reference to an emo stalker song by a wizard band did not go over any of their heads.
"No," Blair said, "it's not creepy. It's sweet. It's like how Mallory looks at me."
Lenore tried not to laugh. Mallory looked at Blair like one would look at a television after watching for five hours— eyes glazed over, not really paying attention, but if a good commercial comes on, you sit up a little more.
"Mallory looks at you like he's thinking 'oh, this again?'," Pansy brushed aside. "Longbottom looks at Lenore like she's both Godzilla and the Queen. Her majesty, Queen Godzilla of Slytherin."
All Lenore could do was gape. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's sickening, really," Pansy continued. "I am proud no dumb male has ever looked at me like that. Can't let them get too attached. That's why I only fuck 'em."
"Yes," Odette said, "that's why…"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Pansy demanded. "You know what, never mind. I don't want to fight you when I could be fighting Lenore. Just take Blair's advice. Fuck him."
"Neville is not like that," Lenore said.
"Not like that? Len, every boy is like that," Blair said.
"No, she's right," Pansy said. "Neville isn't like that."
"Thank you, Pa—"
"Longbottom would cry the entire time you're having sex with him," Pansy said. She pretended to wipe tears away from her eyes. "Len!" She mimicked him thrusting and sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm s-s-so sorry. T-t-thank you!"
Lenore punched Pansy's arm, but her cheeks were already bright red. "Stop being so evil!"
Just then, the door to their room opened. Out walked Blaise Zabini.
Pansy's mouth fell open. "BLAISE?"
Lenore's face twisted itself into an almost demonic smile. Pansy would not like this. Lenore was practically giddy with excitement to witness the show that was about to go down.
"Oh fucking hell," Blaise exclaimed. "Hi Pans."
"Were you just with Circe?"
Circe came out into the hallway. "Hello, everyone! I'm so sorry to keep you all out here! I lost track of time."
"Blaise, you fucked Circe," Pansy said incredulously. "Do you know how many diseases she could have?"
"I don't have diseases," Circe scowled. "Like you should talk."
"Okay," Blaise said quickly, "well, I'm going to go."
He kissed Circe on forehead and rushed down the stairs.
Pansy stood with her mouth wide open.
"Close your mouth, Pansy," Blair said, "a bug might crawl in."
"I'm more worried about what's about to come out," Lenore said.
The girls filed into their room. Odette laid in her bed. Lenore sat on top of her dresser. Blair and Circe took a seat together on a trunk. They all watched Pansy, who was strangely silent. Her face was completely pinched up. She seemed to be deciding what to say. Would she be livid? Or jealous? Or just amazed? She stared at Circe.
"You slept with Blaise?"
She turned to Lenore. "And you made out with him?"
She finally sat down on her comforter, looking defeated. "I didn't know he was such a whore."
"He gets around," Lenore said.
"Don't say that!" Pansy said. "That's awfully judgmental of you."
Lenore laughed. "Pansy! You just called Blair a slut. And me a mega virgin. And you said Circe has STIs. That's judgmental about sex."
"As my mom says, 'el que súbito se determina, súbito se arrepiente!'" Odette said.
"Odette," Pansy exhausted, "speak English."
"Basically, hasty judgement leads to repentance," Odette translated.
Pansy gave her a look and turned to Circe. "To be honest, I thought Circe would be in here with Randall. So, Blaise was a relief."
"You thought I would be in here with a guy who hit me?" Circe gasped. "A guy I helped you all to punish?"
Lenore was not going to say the thought crossed her mind, as well. She would not put it past poor Circe to fall for that again. But her roommate did seem like a much strong person now that she had exacted her revenge on Randall.
"Hey," said Pansy, "like I said, I'm happy for you. You've upgraded."
Circe unclenched her jaw. "Thank you, I guess. Blaise is a lot better at that stuff, bel—"
Lenore quickly put her hands over her ears. "LA LA LA."
Pansy came over and removed Lenore's hands. "YOU'RE A PRUDE," she shouted with a smile on her face.
