My Big Fat A/N:
So I've been up all night working on this chapter…23 pages into it, I'm still not done…and so here I am, telling you that there is more to come…soon. (I swear!) I'll probably have to pull some stuff from one of the later chapters to make the next chapter a bit longer and more balanced…but yeah. The second part shall be up within a couple of days, tops. After all, I have a head start. I guess keep in mind when you read this that the way the chapter has ended here was not the intended end for the chapter…soooo…gah, ok I hope this all works right. Ok I'm going to shut up about this and move on….
thanks toomanycurls for the Hufflepuff-points-comment alteration. Your way is funnier. :P
Ok…sooo… I'm going to include a quick little recap here..don't know if it's necessary…but if you need it, read on, if not, skip the bold, italicized bit!
stay tuned for the next chapter – I'm neglecting my other stories to get chapter 12 up in a timely manner, as I promised 5 seconds ago.
enjoy!
"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.
Ok. So I'm lying. A little. I've only heard from one place so far. Magical Monthly. They sent me a rejection letter over the holidays. I haven't told anyone except my parents…because, well, they were at home with me when I got it, so I didn't really have any choice about hiding it from them. Denise doesn't even know about it…I can't bring myself to tell her about it. I'm too embarrassed. I can't even tell my best friend, so how can I tell Lupin that I got rejected? A few months ago, he was praising this magazine, saying it was one of the better publications out there…he's going to think I'm a loser if he finds out I got rejected from them, and will then proceed to be all sympathetic, because he seems like the type…and then I'll feel like an even bigger loser for having him take pity on me...
McGonagall made a tutting sound as she glanced sideways at Lupin. "And I suppose Ms. Hennessey hangs around your office as much as she does because she just loves defense against the dark arts that much?"
Chapter Eleven: The Oh-So Sexy, Suavemente Sergio
I winced as I took a sip of my orange juice. Ick. I hate pulp. It's so mushy and…well, pulpy.
"Want my juice?" I asked, turning to Denise and smiling brightly at her…or at least I tried to smile brightly. I think it might have turned out to be one of those creepy sort of smiles or something…I was tired this morning, not having gotten much sleep the night before. Plus, I think I had used the last of my energy this morning telling Denise all about my little…er…happenings…with Oliver, and the embarrassing McGonagall/Lupin debacle in the hallway. She laughed. Denise actually laughed when I told her they knew about my Lupin crush. She laughed and told me "that sucks." Way to state the obvious, Denise…
"No, you drink it…" Denise replied, pushing my glass towards me. "You need your vitamin C."
"How do you know?"
"I know so…you don't eat enough healthy food." She replied, not looking up from her breakfast.
I frowned at her. "Again, how do you know? I could be sneaking apples and oranges into our dormitory or into class, and you wouldn't necessarily know…"
She looked up from her breakfast, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Have you?"
I took another sip of my orange juice in response. Ok, so the last time I ate an apple was last week at home when we had apple pie for dessert, but whatever… I mean really, in a hundred years, we'll all be dead anyway.
"So," Denise started as she pushed aside her plate. "We've got Lupin in about fifteen minutes…"
"You know, I think you're right…I don't get enough vitamins and nutrients. I think I'm actually coming down with something right now…"
"Oh, how inconvenient…" Denise replied as she rolled her eyes at me. How dare she! I'm suffering from malnutrition here and all she can do is roll her eyes at me?
"I know," I said with a sigh. "Listen, I should go and get some bed rest…can I borrow your notes after class?"
Denise sniggered. "How are you going to act around him?" she asked, ignoring my question.
"Most unfortunately, I won't have to deal with that today, what with my being sick and whatnot…ow!"
An envelope had fallen on my head, and one of the pointy corners had hit me right in the forehead. And then another envelope came down, also landing on my head. What. The. Hell. Is this my punishment for trying to skive off class? I looked up, expecting to find my mum's tawny little owl flying around like an idiot, hooting happily at me as it usually did when it delivered mail, but instead I saw a large dark owl that I didn't recognize, already flying away.
"Recognize that owl?" I asked Denise, pointing at the owl that had dropped its mail on me. It was already heading towards the owlry. She shook her head and picked up one of the envelopes from my lap and read the front of it.
"Oh! It's from the Daily Prophet!" she squealed. "They must've made their decision!"
But I barely heard her. I was looking at the other letter I had received. It was from Witch Weekly. I turned the letter over, digging my nails under its hat-shaped wax seal to break the envelope open.
"Who's that from?" I heard Denise ask, pointing at the letter in my hand, but I didn't answer. I had opened the letter and glanced over the text…it was only a few lines:
Dear Suzie Hennessey:
Thank you for your application. We were fortunate to have several qualified candidates apply for this position. After careful consideration, we have determined that the credentials of another candidate are a better fit to the needs of our magazine. Please accept our best wishes and we thank you for your interest in Witch Weekly.
Cordially,
Gerry Dalton
I could feel Denise's eyes on me, waiting for me to say something. I didn't know what to say…well, no. I did. But I couldn't say it. I had a feeling that if I even attempted to speak, I might start crying.
I handed the letter to her and waited. It took about five seconds for her to finish the letter and jam it back into its envelope.
"Don't worry, Suzie…" she said quietly. "You still have"—
"I heard from Magical Monthly too, over the holidays." I finally said, cutting her off.
"Oh?"
"Yep."
"Oh…"
I nodded, staring at the table. I didn't know what else to do or say, so I took another sip of my orange juice. As I put the glass down, I saw Denise slide the other envelope onto the table. I glanced at it. It was from the Daily Prophet.
"It might be good news…" Denise said slowly. "Come on. Open it."
"I'm not really in the mood for another rejection."
"You don't know if it is though!"
I shook my head. "No, but I'm pretty sure. I mean, I got rejected from Witch Weekly, Denise. They take trolls as their writers. How am I going to get an offer from a paper like the Daily Prophet?"
Denise fell silent. I went back to staring at the table. So, it seemed that unemployment was in my fate. I suppose I could always marry rich…but I don't think anyone wants me. Hmm…maybe some old, nappy-looking rich guy will take me. Except the thought of performing conjugal duties on an old ugly man made me feel a bit nauseous…
"Suzie!"
I glanced up, and realized that had Denise taken my Daily Prophet letter and had already opened it. "Hey, I never said you could"—
"You got an interview with them!" she breathed.
My mouth fell open as I gaped at her stupidly.
"Dear Ms. Hennessey," Denise began to read in an excited whisper, "Thank you for your interest in joining the Daily Prophet team. After reviewing your application, we are pleased to invite you to an interview!"
"Oh my God…"
Denise waved a hand at me, trying to shush me. What the hell—
"They're suggesting that you meet them at The Three Broomsticks for a lunch interview this Saturday, since Hogwarts is having a Hogsmeade weekend," Denise said, scanning the letter. "I didn't even know we could go to Hogsmeade this weekend!"
"Neither did I," I said as I took the letter from Denise to have a look for myself. God. I can't believe this. I actually have a shot with the Daily Prophet…they actually want to interview me…
Ten minutes later, I was whimpering as Denise shoved me through the portrait hole that guarded the Hufflepuff common room.
"I'm telling you, I'm sick Denise!"
"Really? You seemed perfectly fine a few minutes ago when you were skipping out of the Great Hall."
I glared at her. She grinned as she pushed me on towards the staircase that led to Lupin's classroom. "Come on," she said, "you can tell Professor Lupin about the interview, he'll be happy for you!"
"I don't want him to be happy for me."
"Why not?"
"He'll probably think I'm trying to come onto him or something for sharing good news."
Though I couldn't see Denise as she was still behind me, pushing me, I was pretty certain she was rolling her eyes at me. "Oh, quit being so dramatic. Anyway, Lupin doesn't know that you know that he knows about your crush."
"Sorry…who knows what?"
"Shut up. You're going to class…" she replied, pushing me along the corridor.
I can't believe she's treating me a like a little five year-old, forcing me to go to class. Well, fine. If she thinks I'm five, I should act five...
"But I don't wanna go!" I whined as I folded my arms over my chest and pouted angrily. I rooted my feet to the ground, trying to keep Denise from pushing me any further.
"Oh my gosh, you're being impossible." Denise said resignedly as she gave up on her attempts to push me into class.
I grinned. "I'm incorrigible!"
I love that word, it's so much fun. It's like the most sugar-coated word for someone who's impossible, I can't help but use it on myself.
Denise looked at her watch and sighed again. "Look, class starts in a few minutes, we're going to be late!"
"You mean you're going to be late." I corrected her.
"I feel like I should be bribing you with candy at this point."
"I'll go to class if you get me Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and if you pick out all the disgusting beans."
"Ha ha, I'm sorry. I think you've mistaken me for a house elf." Denise replied.
I pouted again. "Fine. I guess I'm not going to class."
"I'm sorry…did I hear wrong?"
I nearly jumped out of my skirt when I heard the voice. Denise and I turned around, only to find Professor Lupin standing a few feet from us. Um. Woops?
He took a few steps closer to us, smiling slightly at me. "Did you just refuse to attend my class on account of Denise refusal to get you a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and pick out all the disgusting beans for you?"
I smiled innocently, pretending I had a halo hanging over my head. "That sounds about right."
Lupin nodded, frowning at me slightly before continuing on his way. "Oh, Denise?" he said, without so much as looking back at us, "One point for Hufflepuff if you can manage to bring Suzie to class without succumbing to her bribes...and two points from Hufflepuff if she skips."
I fell into the seat next to Denise and glared at her.
"You're hurting yourself more than you're hurting me with that attitude." She said as she began flipping through her textbook, not even glancing up at me.
I sighed and made a move to get my own book out of my bag. "Yeah, well…I never got to do the whole self-destructive, angsty, misunderstood, chip-on-my-shoulder bit when I was younger. I'm just trying to make up for all that lost time."
"We'll get you a Weird Sisters shirt tomorrow then, maybe a blade too so you can slit your wrists while you listen to their music…"
"Hey, I like them, and their music isn't depressing! It's poignant and deep!" I exclaimed, frowning at Denise. Ok, just because little underage kids like to blast the Weird Sisters on their wireless and act like they understand the soulfulness of their songs while they dress like vampires, doesn't mean I do. I'm not a poser!
Denise giggled. I opened my mouth to continue my Weird Sister sermon, but was suddenly cut off by another person's laugh. I glanced past Denise, only to find Madeline Slutty-Long-Legs Johnson sitting next to us, joining in Denise's laughter.
"What?" I asked, trying as hard as I could to sound innocent and curious as to why she was laughing. I was probably failing miserably though, because I could feel a vein in my forehead throbbing oh-so-slightly.
Madeline's laughter subsided as she cleared her throat and tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Oh, she thinks she's so cool because her hair is long and straight…and shiny…and perfect. Ok, note to self: must use conditioner more often in the shower.
"Oh…um, sorry…I just heard you talking about the Weird Sisters…you like them?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at me and giving me a smile that was decidedly mocking.
"Um…"
Madeline sniggered again. God. I just want to hit her, or stick something in her mouth to get her to stop making that weird noise that was masquerading as a laugh.
"Sorry, that's just funny…" she replied, shaking her head and smiling condescendingly at me.
I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Why?"
"Well, have you heard them?"
I smiled at her. "No, I just like to wear the t-shirts…you know, pretend that I'm a fan just so I can be persecuted for having good taste in music."
And as if right on queue, Professor Lupin tapped his wand on his desk, signaling the start of class. I felt like flashing Madeline a couple of my fingers to give our conversation a more grandiose ending, but thought better of it. She'll probably claw me to death in my sleep with her freakishly long nails. Or Lupin will catch me and give me a detention. Or both. Oh, that would really stink. Sad. The latter would have actually been fun, if it weren't for my newfound discomfort in being in Lupin's presence. Gosh, every time I relive the memory of McGonagall teasing him about my interest in him, I want to cringe. And what kills me is that she was all chit-chatty about it with him! Like it wasn't a big deal, like it was just another funny occurrence, all in the day's work…
Gosh, they probably sit around in their stupid lounges and talk about me. All of them…just sitting there, sipping firewhiskey and swapping stories about all the stupid things I've done in and out of their classes. Huh. I'll bet Snape would have plenty to share. Though I can't imagine him drinking firewhiskey…Oh my God. What if Lupin told people about my accidentally-asking-if-he-was-married incident? Oh God, oh God, oh God…entire life flashing before my eyes…
Ok so maybe I'm overreacting a little. I know that the Hogwarts faculty has better things to do than sit around and get drunk together while sharing stories about me. Well, maybe Trelawney's the exception…she always smells like cooking sherry and seems a bit tipsy more often than not…though I suppose she wouldn't have anything bad to say about me. She always gushed on about how I had the gift of the inner eye. (I predicted on my last exam that I was going to have a torrid love affair and have a child out of wedlock…oh, and also that my lover would later dump me in order to pursue a career in foot modeling.)
But in any case, whether or not professors have been talking about me, I don't know how the hell to act around Lupin anymore. He knows about me…and it kills me. How long has he known about me liking him? And how did he figure it out? Ok, um…I'm starting to wonder if sending him those chocolates over the holidays was a bit much…
"Suzie?"
Heart flying at a million miles a second.
"Er..hi!" I replied, grinning at Professor Lupin like a complete imbecile. Geez. Why must he call on me? Couldn't he tell I wasn't paying attention? Right…that's probably why he called on me…
He sighed, rolling his eyes at the ceiling as he did so. "Hello." He replied, smiling at me with mild amusement. "I asked if you understood my explanation. You had a confused look on your face."
"Oh! No…no, I understood…um, no…I just tend to look like that. I'm a confused person." I replied, laughing nervously as I ran my fingers through my hair. Man, I sound like an idiot.
"I'm sorry to hear it," Lupin said warily, turning back to the board to write a new set of notes while several students sniggered at his comment. Or mine…I'm not sure. "Right then…"
And he continued with his lecture. Thankfully, he didn't call on me the rest of the period. When he dismissed us, I hurriedly packed my things, deciding to not bother with waiting for Denise if she wasn't ready to go…I just wanted to get the hell out. I'm sure she'd understand…
"Miss Hennessey – I want a word with you."
I had just finished packing my bag and had thrown its strap around my shoulder when Professor Lupin called after me. I cast a glance at Denise, who was trying to look sympathetic, but ended up looking like she was having a stroke or something, as it seemed very clear that she was also trying not to smile…or laugh her ass off.
"See you in Transfiguration!" she said as she made a grab for her things. I waved to Denise and then turned around to head on over to Professor Lupin's desk—
"Ah! Geez!" I exclaimed as I turned around and found Lupin standing right in front of me. He backed away a little, looking rather amused at having startled me.
"My apologies." He said with a laugh. "I thought you heard me walk up to you."
"I didn't." I replied with a grin, trying to look casual and not like I had almost had a heart attack. God, he walks quiet…
"Now, don't worry about being late for Transfiguration…I'll send you there with a note." Lupin said as he began heading towards his office, which was connected to the classroom. Wondering what the hell I did today, aside from not paying attention in class (but that was hardly out of the ordinary), I followed Lupin.
Oh. Hell. Is he going to confront me about my crush? Telling me that he's known all along and that he's tired of pretending that he doesn't know, and wants to tell me that nothing can happen between us, so I should try to forget about him and pursue men my own age…and then he'd probably feel bad for letting me down like that and would proceed to give me a Honeydukes chocolate bar before sending me on my way…oh, how pathetic is my existence right now?
"Well, Suzie" he said as he held the door open to his office for me, "to get straight to the point, I just wanted to ask you if everything was alright. You looked rather distracted today."
"Oh! No, no…I'm not distracted, not distracted at all. No, I'm totally…tracted."
"Tracted?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
I felt myself blush. "Um. Focused…that's what I meant. Couldn't think of an antonym for 'distracted' at first…"
Professor Lupin nodded, looking rather (and justifiably) unconvinced. "Sit down, won't you?"
"Oh, ok. Thanks." I replied, taking a seat opposite to him. That was weird. I'm suddenly conscious of just how informal I've always been with Lupin. I've been to his office like, a dozen times, and I've always taken a seat without even asking him. Yes, I know, that's a bit rude…but I don't know, I've never been one for social protocol. Anyway, just really weird hearing him ask me to sit down…
He was looking squarely at me, with the most concerned look in his eyes. I just want to melt…
"Suzie, are you sure everything's alright? I haven't forgotten that you were trying to skip my class earlier. Is there a problem, either with me or one of your classmates?"
"No, of course not," I said quickly, "well…I mean, except Madeline…but that"—
"…is neither here nor there." Lupin interjected with a smile. "But no other problems? Is it any of the material we're covering, or the workload that's making you want to skip class?"
"No," I said again. "Everything's fine, really…I was just joking about that stuff earlier, I swear…"
Professor Lupin raised an eyebrow, looking at me doubtfully. "So you wanted come to class?"
"Yes!"
"And you weren't distracted or upset in any way during class?"
"Nope."
"So…if I asked you to write a one page essay on what we discussed in class today, you'd be able to write it?" he asked, smiling at me.
Shit. "Er…are you allowed to do that?"
He laughed. "I believe I am. However I'm choosing to take your word for it and let you go," he said as he began writing me an excuse note on a small piece of parchment. "And since you did come to class—and I'm assuming Denise didn't bribe you—a point to Hufflepuff, as promised…"
I smiled. "Wow, a whole point. That's really going to get us the house cup this year…"
He smiled back as he handed me my note. "I'm afraid you'll need a great many more points to get the cup from Gryffindor…they've had it these past couple years, haven't they?"
I frowned. "You were a Gryffindor in your day, weren't you?"
"Yes, I was."
I stuck my excuse note in my pocket and grinned at him. "Well, that explains the thriftiness with which you give out points to other houses…I mean, come on…only one point? You just want to see Gryffindor hog the house cup for itself."
Lupin rolled his eyes in response. "Yes, that's exactly why I gave you only one point for attending a class that you're required to attend anyway."
"Well, when you put it that way…"
"I haven't forgotten that you're late for Transfiguration." Professor Lupin said, cutting me off. "Do not think you can con me into letting you skip any more class by means of discussing house rivalries."
"Well, it was worth a shot." I said, getting up.
He smiled. "And as always, I admire your efforts."
I jumped slightly in my seat as I felt Denise poke me in the back with her quill. I was about to turn around to see what was up, but decided I didn't want to risk getting another glare from McGonagall. She had been rather annoyed with me when I came into her class ten minutes late, even though I had given her my note from Lupin. Hmm, she probably thinks I was late because I was off trying to seduce Professor Lupin…because in her eyes, that's what I am, aren't I? Just a seductive…er…seductress…who likes to seduce professors…or something.
When McGonagall turned to face the board, I glanced back at Denise, only to get a note thrown in my face.
"Ouch! Paper cut!" I hissed. "What"—
"Read it!" she mouthed at me. Her eyed were widened and she looked extremely nervous. Ok…something's wrong? I quickly unfolded her note, my mind rushing through every possible piece of bad news Denise cold be sharing with me…
Ok, so I just got a note from Oliver (nothing regarding the whole situation you guys are in, I'm sorry to say). He said that Ernie Macmillan came up to him earlier, asking where he could find me. Oliver said he didn't know, so Ernie asked him to pass on the message to me that his brother, Vince, wants to ask me out, and was wondering if I'd like to meet him for lunch at Hogsmeade this weekend. Oliver also wrote that Ernie said he'd come and ask me again later, so he could go and give his brother a reply.
I don't know what the hell to do!
I pressed my lips together and smiled. I can't remember the last time I heard Denise use the word 'hell'…
Ok, I have to admit, I'm kind of interested. I mean, Vince is pretty cute, isn't he? I don't remember him that well from when he was a student here, but from what I do remember, he seemed like a nice guy. But then, I don't really know him, you know? What if he's a jerk, or a weirdo? And this is all a bit strange…I mean, he doesn't even attend Hogwarts anymore…how does he expect to carry on a relationship? And then, what's with all this going through Ernie? Does he not know my name? Can he not send me an owl or something and ask me out himself? Why must his brother get involved? And why must Ernie go around and tell the whole school that his brother wants to go out with me? I know Oliver doesn't equal the whole school, but still…
I need your input. Help me!
By the way, what did Lupin want to talk to you about after class? Did he ask you out…or did he warn you to stay away from him because he wasn't interested in dating someone half his age? Ha ha…ok, sorry…I'll feel so bad if that had really happened…
And I'm so sorry…mentioning Oliver like this…I know it's really weird between you two, but he was the one who passed me the note to tell me this stuff. He still hasn't said anything yet, has he? Hey, have you ever thought about confronting him maybe? Go see him after class…and just ask him if you could speak to him privately…and just say that he didn't even react to what you said on the train ride here, and that you feel that you deserve a response, and you want to know how he feels about all of it. Yes, I think that's a good idea, and you should do it. But ok, again, I'm sorry…but I need help with this whole Vince thing…so please advise me!
Oh geez. She's seriously freaking out about Vince? Who cares if she doesn't really know him or if he's not a student here…the man is hot! Case closed! Anyway, we're graduating in a few months, so the fact that he doesn't go here shouldn't be a problem. I wrote all of this down on the back of Denise's note, assuring her that she would be an idiot to not date Vince.
You said yourself you remember him being nice, I wrote, and don't read so much into the fact that he didn't ask you out himself. He probably thought it would be weird, since he doesn't go here, and maybe he thought you would feel weird about having direct contact with someone you hardly know. So don't worry! When Ernie approaches you (or better yet, you should go approach him…it'll make the little sod feel important), just tell him yes, and that Vince can contact you directly if he wants.
I turned my note over to look at Denise's note again. So Oliver had told her all of this….Hmph. No, he wasn't the whole school, but trust him to tell his beloved Madeline about it. I hesitated for a moment, but then decided to go ahead and add that bit to my note, adding as an afterthought that I was just kidding and wasn't upset at her mentioning Oliver.
I wasn't quite sure of what to say about me confronting Oliver. The idea did have some merit. I could close the book on this whole Oliver crap once and for all…now, it's just a matter of me getting the balls to go up to him and ask for a private word…
I added in my note to Denise that I would think about talking to Oliver, and then quickly explained why Professor Lupin had kept me after class, sighing wistfully as I did so. God. He's so sweet, being all concerned for a stupid girl who he knows has a crush on him…why couldn't he just be younger, and not a teacher? It would've been so much easier…or would it?
I pondered over this as I folded up my note and let my hand swing back so Denise could take my reply. I suppose it would have made my situation easier if Lupin were my age, and not teaching…in that I probably wouldn't even be attracted to him. I mean, hello! His older-manliness and professorship is half the sexiness!
Hmm. Trying to imagine Oliver as a middle-aged professor…
Denise never responded to my note. Figuring that she was satisfied with my response, I went back to paying attention to McGonagall until the end of class. When she dismissed us, I quickly got up and turned to face Denise. I was about to ask her if she had read my note when she slapped me on the arm…
"Go, talk to him!" she hissed, nudging her head backwards.
I looked over her shoulder and saw that Oliver had already gotten up to leave. I turned back to Denise and gave her the best puppy eyes I could muster. "Er…now?"
"Yes! Go! I'll take your things for you to the Great Hall…just meet me there when you're done!"
"But"—
"Talk to him!"
I sighed and hurried after Oliver. As I came out into the hallway, I spotted him almost immediately. However, he wasn't alone. Yep. What with my fan-bloody-tastically good luck, it was bound to happen. Madeline had already beaten me to him. They were walking off together, chatting all…happily. Both of them! Even Oliver…It was rather sickening.
I glanced back to see if Denise could be found in the corridors, but she wasn't. She had either already headed to the Great Hall going in the opposite direction, or she was still in the classroom. With a small sigh, I decided to head down for lunch, taking the long way…behind Oliver and Madeline. On the plus side, I wasn't too far away from them, and they were talking loud enough for me to hear. This is certainly my week for eavesdropping, I know…
"It's just amazing! Seriously…it's got this diamond-hard polish…" I heard Oliver exclaim with a sigh.
Madeline glanced at Oliver and smiled. "Yeah?"
Bitch. She sounds almost patronizing! I picked up my pace a little to keep up with them, though making sure to glance at the walls every so often, pretending to be interested in the portraits should they ever turn around and find me walking behind them.
"Yeah," Oliver echoed her. "I just can't believe someone from Gryffindor actually has a Firebolt. Did I tell you that it came with its own registration number?"
"Twice." Madeline replied in the same sugary voice that she always used with me whenever I…well, she always uses that voice with me...
Oliver laughed. Sigh. I rarely hear him laugh…and when he does, it's so adorable…
"Sorry," he said, sounding rather sheepish. "I just still can't over the fact that Potter has a Firebolt…"
I grinned. I could. This morning in the loos, I found that someone had etched a funny looking broomstick on the wall (I say funny looking because it bore some resemblance to male anatomy…except with bristles. I know. Gross.), and underneath it, is said Harry Potter has the biggest broomstick ever! I literally cringed…I remember being extremely grossed out…I mean, ew. Harry's like, thirteen. He's thirteen and underage. Yuck. I'm so proud of myself, I'm not as freakishly pervy as I had once thought myself to be…
Still walking several feet behind Oliver and Madeline, who had now moved onto discussing the latest gossip about pop singer Celestina Warbeck (per Madeline's request, having gotten bored listening to Oliver swoon over Harry's broomstick), I decided to take a detour by way of the stairs, to get away from them. I should get to the Great Hall to meet Denise and tell her I couldn't talk to Oliver. She's probably sitting there waiting for me, thinking that I'm talking to Oliver right now, charming him into believing that I'm a much more desirable, much sexier girlfriend material than Madeline. Ok, so she's probably not thinking of that…she's probably sitting in the Great Hall having a dignified conversation with Ernie Macmillan, agreeing to date his brother. Probably negotiating an appropriate amount of dowry too…
And the weekend has arrived all too fast. Seriously…where the hell did the week go? I can't even remember how I spent it. I remember something about class…something about being depressed over Oliver, and over Professor Lupin…but it all seemed so far away now. I could care less about them at the moment, and that is because today—in exactly one hour—I am meeting with a representative from the Daily Prophet for an interview. I think I'm going to gag.
Denise and I were walking down the path that led to Hogsmeade in complete silence. I was nervous as hell about my interview, and Denise was a wreck over her date with Vince. They were meeting up…somewhere. I can't remember where, actually…I was too busy trying to decide how to put my hair this morning to hear Denise frantically go over her itinerary. I ended up putting it in a bun—I thought it looked most professional that way. Actually, I look a bit like a librarian. I thought of wearing my hair down, but it made me look rather whore-ish…like one of those slutty secretaries you see in offices who you know are doing their bosses after business hours…anyway, I don't want to give off that impression, however likely I am to do such things if I had a good-looking boss…
"Suzie!" Denise gasped, pulling me out of my worries.
"What? What happened?" I asked, stopping in my tracks.
She shook her head wildly with her eyes shut. "The wind just blew your skirt up a bit! Did you not feel it or something?"
I looked down at my skirt, which was in fact blowing a little from the wind. What a cute skirt. Now, I'm not much of a dress gal, but I just love this skirt. It's so flippy and pretty, and actually makes me feel like I'm hot stuff.
I giggled as I looked around to make sure no one was near enough to witness my accidental flashing. "I'm sorry…did I expose you?"
"Yes! I saw your cauldron cake underwear!" Denise exclaimed with a shutter. "Why aren't you wearing a slip under your skirt?"
I shrugged, pressing down on my skirt to keep it from flying up again. "I don't have one."
Denise rolled her eyes at me. "Oh Suzie…"
"Oh Denise…"
She glared at me. "Just watch your skirt…and make sure you keep your legs crossed during your interview, ok?"
I grinned. "Unless the interviewer is a man, right?" Mmm. Being pervy really helps calm the nerves…
Denise sighed in response.
"So where are you going again to meet the Daily Prophet guy?" she asked me after a few moments of silence.
We had just reached Hogsmeade, and I was squinting to read one of the street signs further up ahead of us. "Um…Isabella's?"
"Oh…where's that?"
I shrugged. "No idea."
Denise glanced at her watch. "Ok…I have to meet Vince in a few minutes at Madam Pudifoot's…Are you going to be ok?"
I smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies that had risen in my stomach. "Yeah…I'll ask around a bit…I'm sure I'll find it. Are you going to be ok?"
Denise smiled nervously at me as she patted down her skirt. "Yes, yes…I'm fine! I'll be fine…I just…"
"Yeah?"
Denise's face fell…she looked like she was going to cry. "I can't remember how to get to Madam Pudifoot's, I'm so nervous!"
I giggled. "Aww…"
"Don't 'aww' me! Suzie, I don't know if I can do this! I haven't dated in ages!"
I rolled my eyes at her. "At least you've dated. Go on. You'll be fine. And you can remember where Madam Pudifoot's is…just go straight and make a left on that one street where Honeydukes is."
Denise took a deep breath. "Ok. Yes. I can do this."
"Of course you can."
"Ok…" Denise breathed. "I'll go…I'm going to meet Vince…and you go…do your interview."
I smiled. "Alright. Best of luck!"
Denise grinned nervously as she waved to me. "You too!"
Oh God. I am so out of shape. I was huffing by the time I found Isabella's Coffee Company. And I was barely on time. I hurried into the café, hoping to spot a mirror, or a really clean glass window where I could check my reflection. It was cold outside, but I could feel myself sweating from the quick pace at which I was walking. And my hair…I want to cry. I spent forever trying to tame it into this pretty, delicately understated bun that just screamed 'professional'…and I could feel it hanging from my head like a lumpy potato. Not quite sure what sort of person I was looking for, I glanced around the spacious café, hoping for someone to just walk up to me and ask if I was Suzie Hennessey…
But no one did. I stood there at the entrance for a few minutes, waiting for someone to ask me if I was here for a job interview. There were several people sitting alone at tiny tables sipping coffee from tiny cups who looked like they could have been waiting for me, but I could hardly go up to each of them and ask them if they were waiting for me…argh! Damn you, Daily Prophet, for humiliating me like this!
"Hello, Miss...May I help you?"
I almost jumped. I hadn't even noticed that one of the waitresses had approached me.
"Oh! Um…well, I'm waiting for someone." I replied. "Not exactly sure who, I wasn't given a name, but it was for"—
"The Daily Prophet?" a voice asked behind me.
A short young man had just entered the café. And oh my God was he hot!
"Oh, yes! That's me!" I said a little too excitedly. Damn. I was trying to go for pleasantly relieved…
"Excellent!" he said, waving at the waitress to dismiss her as he led me to a nearby table. "You must be Suzie Hennessey then?"
"Yes, that's me." I replied, extending my hand out to him.
"Wonderful," he said, taking my hand. "I'm Sergio Navarro, and I am in charge of recruiting for the Daily Prophet! Nice to finally meet you. Have a seat!"
Mmm. Sergio. No wonder. He looks so Mediterranean. And so cute! And so…closer to my age than Professor Lupin! He looked like he was in his mid to late twenties. Hmm. I wonder if I'll have to sleep with him to get the job, because in all honesty, I wouldn't mind that much…
"Well Suzie," he started as a waitress approached us to take our orders, "what will you have?"
"Oh!" I glanced up at the waitress, who was the same woman who had asked me earlier if I needed help, "Er…plain cup of coffee is fine, thanks."
"Make mine a latte." Sergio told the woman. Gosh. He has a cute little accent too!
As the waitress left, he turned his attention back to me. "Alright, let's go ahead and get started! Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, Suzie?"
Ugh. The question I loathe. Where the hell does one begin with those sorts of questions? I mean, obviously he doesn't want to know my favorite color or my life story…ok…so…I suppose academic and professional related stuff would be the best place to start…
"Well," I began, "I'm in my final year at Hogwarts…um…it's been pretty nice, though pretty busy. I ended up taking all the classes I qualified for after my OWL exams, mainly because I wanted my background to be as well-rounded as possible. I don't want to find myself limited in what I'll be able to write professionally, you know?"
I couldn't help but smile. That was hardly the truth. I ended up continuing with most of my classes after fifth year because I didn't know what the hell I wanted to do with my life, so my parents made me sign up for whatever I could get into. I'm just feeling very fortunate that I was able to think of a nice fringe benefit like that on the spot.
Sergio nodded. "Right. Very wise. So tell me, what classes are you enrolled in right now?"
"Um…Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Magical History, and Potions." I replied.
He nodded, smiling at me and looking rather impressed. That's right. Take that, Sergio baby!
"That is a full schedule." He said. "Though undoubtedly useful—as you said—if you want to pursue a journalistic career. At the Daily Prophet we like our writers to have soaked their feet in as many aspects of the wizarding world as possible."
I nodded in agreement as I took a sip of the coffee that just been brought to me. We talked on for another fifteen minutes about school and my writing interests, and occasionally he'd slip in questions that seemed to test my knowledge about current affairs. ("So, how do you feel about the presence of dementors at your school in aiding the search for Sirius Black?") I am pleased to announce that so far, I think I've made a relatively good impression. And I also must admit, I am pretty damn good at sucking up. Sergio had mentioned a few moments ago that he was from Spain, so I jumped in and exclaimed that I had always wanted to go to Spain. At first I thought I had messed up by letting it slip that the main reason I wanted to go was to see a bull fight so I could see those cute little men in their bull fighting costumes. For an instant, I thought I had lost the job. But then Sergio laughed and said I had a colorful personality. I certainly hope he meant it in a good way. But anyway, I took the opportunity to engage him in a great discussion about Spanish culture, and he seemed totally impressed by my interest in his home country. Yay.
"Well, no surprise that you're so interested in learning about Spain," he said with a smile as he looked down at the papers he had laid out in front of him, "it says here on your application that you speak Spanish!"
Oh God.
"¿Cuántos años has estado estudiando español?"
Crap. I understood 'Spanish'…and I think what might have been some variation of 'study'. Ok, how do I get out of this one? God. I'm such an idiot! Why did I have to embellish on my application? I know like, only five words in Spanish…
I laughed nervously. "My Spanish is a bit rusty. I only studied it for a few years, and it was a long time ago." I said, praying silently that Sergio still found me charming and would be able to overlook this one pathetic moment of mine.
"Ah…right." He said as he quickly scribbled something down on the paper in front of him. Oh God. Probably making a note: "compulsive liar."
I couldn't recover after that. I was just too embarrassed at my stupidity, and being caught red-handed as a ditzy, monolingual liar. The rest of my interview went rather shakily…I was just so spazzed. I couldn't even remember what sections of the Daily Prophet I liked when he asked me. I felt like crying. I was so close to getting this job, and I let it slip away. I hate myself…
A few minutes later, Sergio wrapped things up by saying he would be going over the credentials of all the candidates with his boss, Scott Kelley, and they would contact me if I got the job. Automatically, I stood up, smiled as I thanked him, and shook his hand. And after I bid him a good day, I left hurriedly in the direction of the Three Broomsticks, where I could drown my sorrows in a butterbeer.
I hugged myself from the cold as I walked down one of Hogsmeade's crowded streets. Gosh. I should have worn a thicker coat…I should have worn a longer coat…one that would cover my legs, because oh my God are they numb. I'm wearing tights, but that's hardly enough. And my stupid shoes…they were killing me, because not only were they uncomfortable, but they didn't work well with ice and snow. (I've come close to slipping about four times in the past fifteen minutes). But they were the only ones I had that looked nice enough for an interview. Stupid interview, stupid job…I feel like I got all dressed up for nothing.
I was about to cross the street, but stopped in front of Honeydukes. Across from me was Madam Pudifoot's, and Denise had just stepped out of it, followed by Vince. I stood in my place, deciding I didn't want to cross the street just yet. It would be awkward running into them while they were on their first date. Still hugging myself, I backed up against the wall of Honeydukes in attempts to conceal myself. I didn't want Denise to see me…she was so nervous before her date, I imagine anything, even seeing me, might throw her off and distract her from her date.
Yet she didn't look so distracted right now. She was holding hands with Vince, and she was giggling at something he had said. I couldn't help but laugh myself at the sight of Denise. Even in the distance, I could tell that she was blushing. And she was looking at the ground as Vince smiled at her…geez, she's so shy! It's kind of cute, actually. And I'm betting Vince agrees, as he was currently staring at Denise even more intently and fondly while she acted all girlish.
Instead of crossing the street, I decided to keep walking along the same street so I could go back to the castle. I didn't really have anything to do here anyway, and I certainly don't want to run into Vince and Denise now, and interrupt their fun…gosh, they looked really cute back there. Especially Denise. I just love how she manages to look so dignified and feminine like that when she's being courted by a guy. Hmph. Only people like Denise can be courted. You don't use words like that on people like me…and in all honesty, I'm not sure how I feel about that…
As I walked by Zonko's, I stopped to stare into the window. I could see my reflection in it, staring right back at me. I couldn't help but sigh. I don't get it. I always thought I was at least somewhat pretty. I mean, I've never really thought of myself as ugly…but now I'm starting to wonder. I mean, look at me. I'm seventeen years old, and I've never really dated. I've never really had the admiration of any guy…and I'm starting to wonder why. Am I not pretty enough? I mean, I know there's a million girls out there who are prettier than me, and I've accepted it (except in the case of Madeline…I swear, people like her don't deserve to be so pretty)…but I always thought I was decent-looking enough to be considered attractive. I mean, geez…I've seen nappier looking men and women have love lives. So I don't know. Maybe it's my personality. But again, I've seen worse people than me have love lives. (And again, let us all remember Madeline!)
Not that I'm jealous of Denise…I mean, I am happy for her. She deserves to have someone. She's sweet and kind, and Vince is lucky to have her…but…I just…I wish I had someone. I wish Denise could tell me, "He's lucky to have you, Suzie…" But there is no one…
And my day just keeps getting worse. While I'm moping about my spinster existence, I get knocked down by someone passing by me, and naturally, I fell right on my butt. Well, it least it's sizeable enough to break my fall…
"Shit, I'm so sorry!"
I glanced up at the person who had knocked me over, and realized it was Oliver.
stay tuned, more is one the way:)
