Disclaimer: All recognizable characters/places are owned by J.K. Rowling and her publishers, and I do not claim ownership over them or their world. No copyright infringement is intended; this piece leads to no financial gain and it is written for the purpose of personal enjoyment and skill development. OC's and plot do belong to me.

Chapter 12 – Schemed

I wasn't feeling guilty the next day when the rumours that Oliver Wood got dumped began spreading around. If anything, I felt accomplished. Adrian, of course, suspected me; but alas, the object of his desire was once again single, and that turned out to be an advantage for him. Figures.

I also didn't feel guilty at all about what I was about to do, either. I'm a Slytherin; guilt is not part of my vocabulary.

The book I had taken from Williams turned out to be a treasure: Not only was it her personal diary, but she was also dumb enough to pour her heart out in it. I had a blast reading about all her silly schoolgirl crushes (which were far more than I'd ever entertained). I made perfect copies of the entire thing, highlighting the most interesting passages; I even made a comment here and there.

I allowed about a week to go by before I made my move. In the meantime, Adrian was walking around being his usual egotistical self – I wasn't quite sure if it was because he had recovered that ring of his and therefore avoided being disowned (or disemboweled) or because Williams and Wood hadn't been able to patch things up.

It really is sort of sad when a young couple just falls apart, isn't it?

Wood had taken to walking around rather forlornly, and from what I could hear of his three chasers complaining in the library, he was dealing with the break-up by forcing extra practice and extra laps on them. Oh well….

I had other things to worry about; like what Adrian is up to when he isn't a) in Quidditch practice, b) in lessons or c) beating my sorry arse in chess. Since I am no dolt, I can add up two and two. And since Adrian is a dork, he needed my intervention to stop him from messing up his affairs.

He'd thank me one day.

It took me quite a bit to master Adrian's handwriting, but at last I managed to make it look convincing and my letter to the Gryffindor was written, sealed, and delivered. Which is why I was freezing, waiting for Lady-You-Know-Who near the lake. She was late.

I stuck my tongue out to catch a falling snowflake as I waited. November was almost finished, and the grounds were covered in frost and snow. I shivered, looking over my shoulder to see a lone figure in a black robe and red scarf hurrying over. I turned around, so she could only see my back. I was quite unbalanced in my extra-tall heels. Hey, I needed to look convincing.

"Adrian!" I heard her yell before she hugged me from the back, knocking the breath out of me. She withdrew almost as quickly as she had attached herself, and when she spoke there was a light tinge of alarm in her voice. "Who are you?"

A slow grin crept on my lips; at least Adrian had enough brains to let her know things had to be kept private. Her eyes widened before they narrowed when I turned around. "What are you doing here, Montieth?"

My, my, is that contempt I hear?

I tipped my head to the side, grinning. "We have a date, don't we?"

She stared at me with all true Gryffindor defiance. "I was meeting someone else."

I walked closer to her and my grin widened, getting even bigger when she took a step backwards. "Of course you were," I purred; close enough to be hit with her tacky Eau-de-Toilet.

"What do you want, Montieth?"

Moments like this, I really wish I were a patient person so I could prolong the night's entertainment. "I have a proposition – actually, no, make it an I-talk-you-listen-you-obey kind of thing. What's that called again?"

"You are a psychotic bitch?"

I shrugged. "Perhaps. But I'm the psychotic bitch who is about to rein you in." Williams refused to flinch preferring to show me an indifferent face. "What I am about to say is simple enough even someone as dimwitted as you can understand, Abigail," I enjoyed the look of disgust that marred her features. "I want you to stay away from Adrian. If you turn into a corridor and he's there, you turn around; if you enter a room and he's there, you go somewhere else. If he tries to stick his tongue down your throat, you hex him and walk away. Like I said, simple."

"What gave you the power to decide anything?"

"You didn't contradict me, Abi," I said. She blanched and I could've sworn she was cursing in her head. Maybe Hogwarts should teach Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff's a class on how to lie. "Haven't you lost anything lately?" I asked, fidgeting with the hem of the pocket where the diary was hidden. She stood there in silence for a moment, her eyebrows knitted together while my stomach was doing a victory dance. "This perhaps?"

Her face fell when she saw the book I was holding, but I had to give her credit for pulling herself together quicker than I would have thought she could. "I've never seen that before."

My cheeks were hurting from smirking so much. "Interesting. I suppose, if you've never seen this little book, I could just tell Oliver about this certain Muggle, I believe Tom? Or can I read that lovely passage to Sabrina about just how annoying you think she is? I'll make sure to include all the adjectives, promise."

"I don't know what you are talking about," her lips were twitching, and she kept pushing her fringe away from her face.

"Really?" I asked in a low voice. "Can I tell Adrian how you think he's no good in bed? Would mummy like to know you are not a virgin? I could owl her, I'm sure she would love to read those lovely, very detailed actually, descriptions of…"

"Shut up," she said. I stopped in my tracks to look at her. She had tears in her eyes and her breathing was uneven; when she spoke, her voice was barely audible behind all the hatred. "Why are you doing this?"

"I've told you, I want you to stay away from Adrian."

"You're so pathetic this is the only way you can try to take him for yourself? You've known him since childhood, Montieth, if he doesn't think you woman enough you should just give up."

"Believe it or not," I said trying my hardest to keep my tone calm, "I want was best for Adrian. And that would be to get rid of a stain such as you." She opened her mouth but I was quicker than her. I could, I threw the book towards her; it hit her straight in the chest so that she even lost her balance for a second. "I have copies of every single page. If I have the slightest suspicion that you're seeing Adrian, your mother will have some very interesting reading material." Without giving her a chance to reply, I began walking towards the castle. When I reached the entrance doors, I took a peek over my shoulder. I sighed as I looked backwards to examine my handiwork; she was still standing by the lake. I felt a slight sensation in my tummy, which I ignored.

The end justified the means.

"Sarah Elizabeth Montieth," I looked up from my notes when I heard my name being spoken. Wood hovered above me, looking more like a menacing bulldog than a cute poodle. He wore the same infamous look he had every time he looked at Flint.

"Yes, Wood?" I asked, returning my gaze to my defence against the dark arts notes.

"Explain yourself."

I stared at him before picking up my textbook from my bag. "And?" he raised his voice an octave.

Chuckling, I put my parchment and quill down and stared at him. I was amused, "Did you want me to explain how to do the non-verbal counter-curses?"

His eyes narrowed, but my teasing smile never faltered. "No, Montieth, I don't need your assistance with homework," he said, emphasizing every word and making a tremendous effort not to start yelling. "What I would like you to explain me is why is my girlfriend in the infirmary with her face filled with purple-pustules."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Abigail?"

I blinked. Then realization kicked in.

Oh that made my day; the Lady-You-Know-Who looking like a pizza-face? "This I've got to see," I tried to walk past Wood on my way to humiliate the person I hate the most on this cursed word, but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back.

"No, you don't, Montieth," he said pushing me down on the seat with both hands on my shoulders. "You're going to sit here and explain what your problem is."

"There are many things wrong with me, Woody. Did you want me to write them down or recite them?"

"Abigail said you ambushed her at the end of class and cursed her. She is in the hospital wing!" He continued; I simply stared at him in disbelief. He thought me capable of jinxing the life out of Williams? Well, I can't blame him, I mean, the idea has crossed my mind too many times to count but I had never carried out a single one of my dream-scenarios out. What angered me most wasn't Wood's suspicions (I would've thought of myself had I been in his position) but the fact that the little slug outdid me.

That was a thought I couldn't bear to have.

I got up and looked up at Wood with a composed face. I sneered at him, grabbed my bag, and began to walk out of the classroom. He yelled at me to come back, but I only replied when I had reached the door. The few students who had already wandered into the room only added to the growing animosity. "For once, dear idiot, I have nothing to do with it. If your ex-girlfriend is stupid enough to direct a curse at her face, that is not my problem. You on the other hand, could follow her example and do the same to your nose, it might show some improvements."

He began shouting after me while I walked out. I didn't even stop when I bumped into Professor Lupin who kindly asked me to come back, saying something about a detention.

Screw them all.

I had better things to do. Like plan Abigail Williams' slow and painful death.

The next few days were a nightmare. Adrian had also had a small row with me about the whole Abigail Debacle, only to end up with a displaced nose, courtesy of my wand. He had shut up after that.

Flint, of course, thought it all hilarious and I was pretty sure he, and possibly Darlene, were responsible for starting a ridiculous rumour of a love-triangle between me and the Gryffindorks. The only reason they didn't end up in the hospital wing was because Willow took my wand from me.

Snape contented himself with telling me to be less obvious next time.

So two weeks and three days later, my revenge was ready to be executed. I waited buttering up a piece of toast in the Slytherin table. Gwen was sitting beside me, but wasn't saying a word. Adrian was stuffing himself with as many scrambled eggs as the house-elves could produce.

Disgusting.

The sound of flapping wings announced the mail. People, myself included, looked up to see if they had gotten any mail. There weren't any more owls than usual, but to me it felt like they were crowded. Parchment envelopes and small packages began to fall down. Adrian received one; so did Darlene and a few other Slytherin girls down the table.

So did a fair proportion of the Hogwarts population.

I put some Rosehip jam on my toast.

"Letter from your family, Adrian?" I asked taking a bite out of my food while putting some more milk in my teacup. Gwen looked at me before shrugging and focusing on her own eggs.

Adrian didn't reply; his eyebrows were knitted together and his lips were thin enough to compete with McGonagall. His hands had a slight tremor to them. He read the letter at the fastest speed he could muster, his skin losing colour with every line. When he was done, he crushed it down and stared me down. "Is this real, or some messed up part of your imagination?"

At that moment, Oliver Wood walked into the Great Hall with a fellow seventh year Gryffindor. The Weasley twins had jumped on top of the benches and began reciting at the top of their lungs: "Oliver's lips felt as soft as a baby's bum-"

"Although he is quite the sloppy kisser-"
"I never would've thought he's a bad snog-"

"-But those beautiful eyes make up for it!"

The hall erupted with laughter, as the Gryffindor Captain stood frozen at the entrance. And the twins didn't stop there. Oh no. They got owled the entire chapter of their ill-fated romance, including her top ten reasons why she should/shouldn't shag him until she had a ring on her ringer. I watched in earnest as Wood crossed over the hall, ripped the various pieces of parchment off the twin's hand and read them himself, his face reddening like his tie while most people laughed. Several other people were engaged in their new reading material and making sure all their neighbours were too. The beauties of Hogwarts…

"That's awful," Gwen whispered, looking over to the Gryffindor table with concern. "Do you reckon she wrote all of that?"

I didn't have time to reply because Williams had now walked in. Sabrina Burton walked right up to her and slapped her in the face, called her a few names not even I would dare to say in front of teachers, and run outside, crying.

The excited whispers didn't stop there – neither did the giggling and laughing. "She was shagging a Muggle while dating Wood! What a harlot!
"How dare she say Oliver is a bad kisser! With lips like that-"

"She never deserved him."
"I never understood why people say she is pretty-"

Adrian nudged me in the arm, his face livid. "Did you invent all of this?"

I shrugged and finished my tea. "C'mon Adrian, you know what they say, the more scandalous the more truthful."

He didn't look convinced. "Don't worry, sweetie," I said low so only he could hear me. Williams was engaged in a shouting match with Wood which McGonagall was trying to break apart. The twins had turned her writings into a song. "You are the only person who got what she wrote about you. I do have a heart, you know?"

oOo

"That was you, wasn't it?" was the first thing Wood said when he walked in for detention. Apparently, Lupin hadn't been joking when he said I'd have to clean all of the cauldrons in the storage dungeon. McGonagall also hadn't been joking when she gave Wood and Williams detention. Thankfully, Williams was in divination trying to figure out where her life had gone to the dumps and couldn't join us.

I shrugged, biting my sugar quill and flipping another page of my magazine. Concealed in its pages was a letter from my father I had only realized I had received after the Williams mayhem. I had read it and reread it throughout charms and, unfortunately, its contents hadn't changed since eight this morning.

Dear Elizabeth, blah blah blah… marriage... blah blah blah… Mr. Higgs has agreed… blah blah blah… expect proposal… blah blah blah… I expect you home for the winter holidays.

Sincerely,

Your father.

Yes, he actually signed 'your father.'

"Sarah, I asked you a question," I looked up from my magazine to see Wood holding a cauldron on one hand, and a dirty rag on the other one. Beads of sweat were already coming down on his face; his robe lay on top of a table, and his tie was undone leaving a few inches of skin visible to the naked eye.

I shook my head, trying not to get distracted. "What was that?"

He sighed and let the cauldron fall to the ground with a loud bang. He plopped himself down right next to me, the fabric of his trousers brushing against my bare leg. It sent an electric current up my spine.

"Were the letters true, you didn't falsify them?"
"Why is it that whenever I don't do something you immediately jump to conclusions?" I asked, making sure to close my magazine so he couldn't spy the letter.

He looked at me, before shaking his head and burying it between his knees. "I know I deserved that-"

"Yes, you did."
"-I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Not that you can blame me-"

"Agreed."

"-But that was simply awful, Sarah."

"What, knowing truth or the public humiliation?"

A lopsided grin formed on his lips. "Both."

"Don't worry," I said patting him on the shoulder and removing my hand as it I had put it over a fire. "I'm sure the twins will get tired of reading them out loud- eventually."

We sat in compatible silence for a while. Wood had leaned his head back against the wall with his eyes closed and his breathing even. It was a while before I realized I had been staring at his broad shoulders, his Adam's Apple moving every so often, and the relaxed if strained look on his face. He was a handsome bloke, well-build, and with enough wits to hold a conversation; all the traits a proper bloke should have, I reckoned.

There was something attractive about Woody today, the way his hair was a total mess without him even trying to, the boyish look it gave him; broad shoulders, strong chin, full lips. I could just run my fingers through his chest… I hit myself with the magazine. What is wrong with me?

"What's wrong with you? Why are you hitting yourself on the head for?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," I said opening the magazine again and hiding my red nose in it. Wood is a lousy snog, I chanted mentally.

"With lips like that-" the Ravenclaw who had said that surely had a point, I had to admit. I squeezed a look over my magazine when Wood was looking the other way. His lips did look tempting, full, soft... I crushed the pages over my eyes, willing my head to stop.

This just wasn't right. I wasn't supposed to be thinking of Woody as anything other than an aggravating, obnoxious, and fanatical bloke I had the misfortune to know.

And the misfortune of having him laying on top of you, wet and smelling of the ocean and-

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?"
I turned around, mortified. Did I really say that out loud? Bugger. "Nothing, never mind." We fell back into a semi-uncomfortable silence. I was counting Hippogriffs so I wouldn't think about things that might traumatize me for life.

"I think I owe you an apology," he said when I reached my seventy-seventh Hippogriff. I looked over, I didn't want any weird thoughts creeping up on me (now is a good time as ever to learn Occlumency –can I close off my mind to myself? I'm going to have to read up on that). "For the other week, accusing you without proof," he was twirling with his fingers like he always did when he was nervous. I realized I hadn't been listening, my attention focused entirely on his moving lips – Merlin, I needed a good snogging session.

Not with Wood. Never with Wood. Wood was a lousy snog.

"We still have an hour here," I said looking at the clock on the wall. "I wouldn't mind a laugh, care to tell me the full story?"

He laughed as he propped himself back on his feet, offering me a hand. "Do you always have to be so callous?"
I shrugged, deciding that no physical contact was the safest way to go. "You know the answer, Woody," I said with a seductive wink. His cheeks turned bright pink. He murmured something about finishing the work the honest way and walked away. I couldn't be bothered. I had enough complications inside my own mind to get my hands dirty.

Author's note: Yay I managed to post it before the year ended! :) (with one whole day to spare lol!)

Huge thanks to xXMizz Alec VolturiXx and Lola Loves Marcus (my most loyal reviewers :) and Dustfinger's cheering section and CC for al your encouragement :) and to everyone who reads/follows this

Happy New Years everyone!