Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
"What is coming is better than what has gone."
-Anonymous
"…which corresponds to the numerical value forty-two; four representing the sense of completeness through obvious parallels to squares and other quadrilaterals…"
"I'm trying to study."
"I noticed."
"Then do you think you could stop?"
"Stop what?"
"Don't be thick, James."
"I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about, Elle."
"Oh, I doubt—James!"
"Problem, love?"
I lower my Arithmancy textbook down to my lap with an exasperated huff, and turn around to glare at the dark-haired boy whose hazel eyes are glinting mischievously. James is sprawled out behind me on the squashy sofa, while I'm situated in-between his legs and leaning casually back against him.
After staring at him through narrowed slits, I resettle myself in his arms and turn back to my book.
"…the two signifying the paradoxical quality of light—wave or particle—which often complicates more advanced forms of illuminating spells…"
Just as I'm losing myself in the words, I feel James's soft lips press against the bare patch of skin just below my left ear.
"James!"
"Oh, c'mon, love—you've been studying for two hours," he gripes, his whole face scrunching in boredom.
"Yeah, for a huge test! Doing badly would jeopardize my entire Arithmancy grade," I snap, attempting to twist my way out of his grip as he playfully clings on to me, "and thanks to you, I've barely even covered half the chapter." He merely rolls his eyes, refusing to let me go by tightening his arms around my waist. I squirmed around more fiercely, but the roguish grin is already curling at the ends of his lips: I'm not going anywhere.
"James Potter, so help me-!"
"Just take a quick break…"
"No."
"Please?"
"No!"
"Elle…"
I hesitate as he catches my gaze, staring at me with a devastatingly persuasive expression: lips curved slightly upward, dark-hair ruffled, hazel eyes suggestive. "I…"
"It'll be a short break," he murmurs, drawing me closer and capturing my lips in a light kiss, "five minutes tops, I swear."
"Liar," I scoff.
"Guilty," he chuckles throatily in between kisses, causing a tingling sensation to zing from my lips throughout the rest of my body.
James's mouth moves expertly over mine, sometimes soft and worshipful like a prayer, sometimes hard and rough like there's a fire raging between us. I feel as if my entire body is bursting into flames. I kiss him back eagerly, running my hands up under his shirt, trailing my fingers across his corded abs.
Before I can even comfortably settle into the kiss he breaks it off and sets back away from me. "Wha-...?" I slur in confusion, my brain struggling to catch up.
"Don't wanna let myself get carried away, do I?" he smiles in chagrin while knocking a few stray ginger hairs from my face.
"That's unfortunate." I pout at him for a moment. "I'm not fragile, you know."
His smile widens. "I noticed, but I don't want to treat you like you're just any other girl, Elle. "
"Annoyingly bad timing for that to happen," I grumble, mostly to myself, as I make to move away from him.
"Oi," James murmurs, wrapping his arms around me securely to keep me from moving any more. One of his hands comes up and caresses the side of my face. "Don't be like that. You're not just any other girl," he reiterates, "and I don't say that lightly. Hell, I've never told any girl that."
I'm not sure how serious he's being right now. We seem to have strayed into territory where we're having two conversations, and I'm barely able to keep up with either. I want to ask him how many girls there have actually been, but I also don't really want to know that answer. Instead, I peer down at the closed book in my hands.
"And yet you tell me."
"Well, the reason's obvious, isn't it?" he asks and I peer back up to him, the corner of his lips is turned upward. "I like you, Elle."
My face heats in a combination of awkwardness and happiness as I peer down at my textbook again, having no idea how to respond to that while my heart twirls in little circles.
Thankfully, a sudden commotion comes crashing through the portrait hole. I jolt a few inches in my seat, and James's arms circle around me just a little more tightly as we both stare at each other, wide-eyed, and then crane our necks to see...
Oh, bloody hell.
Streaking through the portrait hole on brooms are none other than Fred Weasley and Tyrone Jordan, expressions of intense competition furrowing their faces as they swerve dangerously close to a few unsuspecting heads. People duck and a few girls scream as the reckless duo shatter the previous calm of the Common Room, flying low and dangerously fast overhead in what appears to be some sort of race. Fred flies slightly ahead of Ty, though the latter is gaining on him.
"How many times?!" I hear Fred call over his shoulder, bent low on his broom, eyes dancing with competition.
"Three!" Ty bellows, and the two instantly veer around the corner of the room, circling it and knocking down a few lamps and a painting in the process. I watch in utter disbelief as the two whirl around the room three times, a chaotic blur of skin and hair that leaves nobody safe. Ty nearly takes out a little boy playing Exploding Snap, and Fred manages to knock over the Wizard's Chess table with his foot. "Where to next...?!" Ty calls, swerving last minute to avoid hitting the same little boy - the poor thing is going to be scarred for life after this.
"Divination Tower - through the back window - over the lake- back in through the Astronomy Tower - over the Great Hall..."
Upon completing three laps, the boys make a sharp turn back to the portrait hole, zooming through it one at a time - Fred in the lead - leaving a whirlwind of flying papers and shocked expressions behind them.
James and I peer at each other once more, and I notice a faint smile spreading across his lips.
"Un-bloody-believable...," he murmurs, scoffing, while running a hand over his face. I watch on as he begins assessing the damage done to the room.
"They'll get a week's worth of detention, y'reckon?" I ask, quirking a brow - he knows better than I do what kind of detention this will get them.
"Nah," he surmises, "I'd say a good month." His lips curls into a grin as his eye re-meet mine, his gaze taking on a twinkle of mirth. "Two if Longbottom's feeling feisty."
On the weekends, I usually sleep in as long as possible. But on Saturday morning a strip of sunlight from the window creeps into the dormitory, through partially open drapes, and won't go away. I stand up, cross the circular room, all the while avoiding random items strewn about the floor, which one of my dorm-mates, Reyna Davenport, likes to prefer to it as 'organizational chaos'. I close the heavy drapes, ensuring that no more pesky rays will seep through to disturb me.
Afterward, I snuggle back under my duvet covers, pulling them up around my ears. It isn't long before my mind begins to float, and I'm asleep once more.
Two hours later and I'm feeling well-rested and ready to start my day. I smile, excited by the sudden thought of having brunch with James in the Great Hall, and throw my covers back.
I shuffle about the room to get my robe and towel, noticing that two of my dorm-mates, Reyna and Maris McCrane, have already left for the day. I then enter the adjacent bathroom, where I nearly trip over my third dorm-mate, Imogen Farley, who is lying on the tiled floor. The cupboard doors under the sink are open and shampoo bottles, hairspray, and any other hair care product you can think of, lines the floor next to her. In one hand she's holding her wand, which is alight at the tip, and in her other hand is a folded up issue of The Daily Prophet.
"Uh, Imogen...? What're you doing?" I inquire.
"Have you ever heard of a brown recluse?"
"The spider?"
"Yes. I was just making sure we didn't have any under the sink."
"Did you see a web under there? Or is there a sucked-dry mouse corpse?" I squat down to get a better look and send a bottle of conditioner toppling over.
"No, I read a story about a teenage girl who got horribly disfigured by a brown recluse spider when reaching under the sink for her Herbal Essences. Then I remembered that's where the other girls store their extra shampoo, so I figured I'd better check."
"Imogen." I pick up the bottles on the floor and begin shoving them back under the cupboard. "You've got to stop reading horrific internet stories and immediately applying them to our lives. If I'm going to be horribly disfigured, it better be in my own original way."
She sits up and casts me a stern look, which eerily reminds me of my mother. "Gabrielle. Don't joke about that." Her dark hair sticks up in crazy waves around her face, like she rolled out of bed and into the bathroom.
I scoff, shaking my head. "Can I have the bathroom now? I need to use it."
She sighs and stands. "Nox," she mutters, causing the light emanating from her wand to fade out. "Fine. I have to check under everyone's beds anyway."
I lock the door after her and turn on the shower-head to a scalding temperature. Before entering the stall, however, my eyes go to the cupboard. I open the door and peer in, then shut it quickly. I veer my eyes into a roll. There are no spiders in the bathroom.
After a quick shower, I pull on some suitable clothing, charm my hair dry, and am out the door and down the stairs in record time. The common room is scarce of people as I pass through, just a handful of people darted about.
It isn't until I'm passing by the Herbology wing, just making it past the greenhouses, that I hear someone calling my name. I turn around to see Professor Longbottom standing in the doorway to his office.
"Miss Silk, do you have a moment?"
"Er - yes, um-"
"Excellent. Would you mind stepping into my office? I've been meaning to have a word with you for a few days now..." he trails off as I pass him in the doorway and take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.
"Am I in trouble, Professor?" I ask as he rounds his desk, taking a seat in his high-backed chair. I'm busy racking my brain for things that I could have possibly done this last week, and feel my stomach drop when I remember the charmed toad that Fred and Ty slipped into Petra Ingham's bag during breakfast on Tuesday. I may not have done the deed, but I was present when she shot daggers at us after screeching like a banshee upon discovering it in Potions a short time later. Trouble by association, and all that.
Oh, piss.
Just as I'm getting really worked up, he smiles reassuringly. "No, no, of course not. I was actually reviewing your file earlier this week and wanted to talk to you about a few things." My stomach drops even further at this; all I can do is nod. "Now, as I'm sure you're aware, your grades are not bad - not bad at all, in fact. If you can manage to do well on your N.E. next year you'll stand at about fifth in your year. However, what concerns me is not your academic record, but your extracurricular activities."
"Erm..."
"In terms of finding a job after school, well, you're going to need something substantial on your resume, I'm afraid. Something that will set you apart from others."
"Well, I joined S.P.E.W. in my third year," I tick off on my fingers, thinking aloud. "I was part of the school choir my first and second year, and Professor Slughorn extended an invitation to me, at the beginning of the school year, for the Slugclub."
Professor Longbottom equips himself with a quill and jots down notes in my file. "Perhaps we should start in a different direction... Have you thought about furthering your education?"
I can only shrug. "I'm not sure," I answer simply. And I honestly don't know. I've always been so indecisive about my future goals.
"You have the excellent marks, Miss Silk," Professor Longbottom states reasonably. "The only area you seem to be lacking in is your extracurriculars. I had hoped to recommend you to some of the institutions offered to witches and wizards lucky enough to be considered. There's Edlritch Institute, Dunbar & Kallister, Boggsmire University, College of Enhanced Magical Teaching," he explains and, with a wave of his wands, conjures glossy pamphlets to each school he's mentioned on the desk before me. However, I make no move to read over any of them.
"And..." I draw out, waiting for the words in my head to make sense. They're jumbled and scattered, like puzzle pieces, slowly moving until they make a complete picture, "...what if I told you that I'm not really interested in going to college." I don't mean for it to come out as a question, but he answers anyway.
"Then I'd have to say that you're selling yourself short," he responds sincerely, steepling his hands. "You have a bright mind, Miss Silk; it'd be a shame to let it go to waste."
I can only heave a sigh, my eyes flickering down to the dusty stone floor beneath my trainers. There is so much to consider, so much that I need to think through that I've not even thought about.
"I see I've given you a lot to deliberate on," Professor Longbottom surmises, clearing his throat.
I lick my chapped lips and bring my gaze back up to his. "Yes, sir," I answer thickly.
"Well, then" he begins, clapping his hands together, "I'll give you some time, just to mull things over and we can discuss your decision at a later time. I've reached out to you about this early on because I want to encourage you to go as far as you can. You're a very talented witch, very clever, and I would hate to see you squander that potential due to poor planning."
"Right," I murmur, my head swimming. "So, er, what do you suggest then?"
"I suggest that you get involved, again; take an active role in a few of our school-wide organizations. This will allow you to get some leadership experience, and pad up your organizational roles."
"What school-wide organizations are offered, Professor?" I ask blankly, trying to think of one. I can come up with the Herbology Society, and I think there's a Chess Club...
"Well, you may not be aware of this yet, but students from various houses have banded together to form what they're calling a Student Activities Council. Their hope is to provide a series of entertainments and cross-house activities open to all students. Since they are a fledgling operation, they will need older students to provide leadership and stability - you could do quite well to join."
"Er, social activities aren't really my strong suit... What about the Dueling Club?" I say, suddenly remembering a fifth year who asked me to join a month or so ago.
His lips press together, "Well," he says, "the Dueling Club is already established - and there are no leadership opportunities there, which is the main point. Also, after the...unfortunate disaster last term, I'm nut sure it would be wise for you to participate." I can't suppress a grin: he might consider it a disaster, but I see setting Avery Flint's head on fire as more of a service to humanity. And we were only practicing for DADA, anyway.
"But, Professor, I'm still not sure-"
"Why don't you just attend the first meeting? See how it goes?"
I sigh; there's no arguing with him, it seems.
Ten minutes later I'm out of Professor Longbottom's office with a slip of parchment, my instructions scrawled onto it:
Frida Tomlinson
Great Hall, Wednesday, 8:00 P.M.
The first meeting of the Student Activities Council. Oh, come on, Elle! I try to bolster myself up. It won't be so bad - you'll just be organizing group hikes around the lake, or a sixth years only trip to the village, or something...
Yeah, the snide voice of my common sense pipes up. Or you'll be stuck making Valentine cards for everyone, or hosting a Christmas party.
"Oh, shut it," I growl to myself, rounding a corner and stuff the offending piece of parchment into the pocket of my jeans.
"Blimey, love, I haven't said anything," an amused James Potter says, causing me to smile despite my current sour mood. "There a reason you're hostile this early in the morning?"
"Sorry," I mutter, allowing him to pull me into his warm embrace. "Talking to myself."
"Need someone else to talk to about it?" he offers, kissing my temple, as we begin walking together.
Yes, please.
And so I begin to go off on a tangent about Professor Longbottom, and the Student Activities Council, and how my future is ever-looming and much more near than I originally anticipated...
A/N: I apologize for my absence! I hope this chapter finds you all well. 3
Firstly, I'd like to apologize for my abrupt departure. School and work were becoming so hectic, but thankfully I graduated earlier this month and I no longer have that to juggle (yay for me)! :)
Secondly, I know that not a lot happens in this chapter - it's more of a filler, than anything. The purpose of it, though, was to set up the subplot to my story. I hope you all will enjoy that as it unfolds over the next few chapters!
Thirdly, I want to say THANK YOU to those who have read/reviewed my story while I've been away. I've logged on to my account a handful of times to see that this story is still receiving love and support from you all... That's simply amazing! I'm so glad that you all are wanting to read more of James and Elle, as well as their friends. It makes my heart soar knowing that you love these characters just as much, if not more, than I do. So, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! 3
Fourthly, I hope that each and everyone is staying safe and healthy during this trying time.
Until the next chapter,
Dev.