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Chapter Two

Take on Me

The Great Hall was silent save for the occasional rustling of papers and quills scratching against parchment. Every now and then, someone would cough or clear their throat—normal noises. What wasn't normal—the continuous clack of a quill falling onto a table.

This noise was courtesy of me. I hated study hall—always have. I mean, a whole block of my day dedicated to studying and homework? Wasn't it enough that I had to sit through four or five boring classes already? But no—let's make Cleo suffer more by forcing her to do work!

I tilted my head back and balanced my quill on the bridge of my nose again. Professor McGonagall (that day's monitor) was over at the Slytherin table on the opposite side of the Hall, and thus couldn't see my antics. I figured I had about five more minutes before she circled back to the Gryffindor table and I'd have to pretend to work again, so I took advantage of my short free time to see if I could hold the quill perfectly still on my nose.

It wobbled dangerously, teetering back and forth, before falling to the table with a loud rattle. Ignoring the looks from my fellow Sixth Years, I picked it up and tried again. It hardly touched my nose before sliding right off. Before it could clatter on the table again, a hand reached out and caught it from beside me.

"Nice save, Leigh," I said, turning to my friend with a grin. "When I make Captain next year, consider you drafted for Keeper."

Leigh rolled her eyes, setting my quill down just out of reach. "I'm saving you from McGonagall's wrath—again."

I waved my hand. "She's over by the Slytherins. It's not like she can hear anything over the sounds of them screeching about blood purity."

Leigh cast a skeptical look to the quiet, diligently working Slytherins. "I wish you'd stop making comments like that. You know that not all of them are blood supremacists, or future Death Eaters."

"Well, you know what they say about a few bad apples." I held my hand out to her and wiggled my fingers. "Can I have my quill back, please?"

She pushed it across the table, where it was swept up by our other friend and roommate, Renee Warrington.

"You'll get it back when you actually do some work," she said, arching a brow. "I haven't seen you write a thing since we've sat down."

"I don't need to do work when I have James doing it for me." I thrust my arm across the table. "Quill. Please."

Renee's face soured. "I can't believe you got Potter to agree to do your homework. It's so unfair."

"You can always ask your dear Sirius for his notes."

She glanced away, brushing a piece of honey-blonde hair behind her shoulder. "We're not exactly speaking to each other right now. So, that's out of the cards."

"Again?" I shook my head, exasperated. "What happened this time?"

"Nothing happened," she said, defensive. "We just agreed that maybe it would be easier to see other people if we weren't so…"

"Disgustingly in love with one another?" I ducked when she threw my own quill at me. "Oi!"

Leigh snickered at her mutinous look as I scuttled on the floor to grab my quill. "Cleo does have a point. You two were made for each other. Why fight it?"

"Because we have our whole lives ahead of us," she said, flapping her hand. "Who wants to get tied down at the age of seventeen? That sounds like torture."

"Try telling that to James," I said, rejoining them at the table, quill securely in hand. "Bloke wants to marry Evans as soon as they graduate, the sap."

Renee snorted. "As if. They're barely on speaking terms, last I recall."

"They have been a lot more civil with each other since term started," Leigh pointed out. "Maybe Dumbledore making them Heads together was a smart move, after all."

"Dumbledore's barking," I said, tilting my head back again. I placed the quill on my nose. "That's why he did it. No other reason—"

"Capaldi!"

I flinched at the sound of my name. My quill, once again, took a sad plunge to the floor. Professor McGonagall stood behind me, hands on her hips and her face pinched into her signature disapproving frown. My quill rolled to a stop at her feet. She didn't bother picking it up.

"Professor," I squeaked. "Hi."

There weren't a lot of things in this world that scared me besides acromantulas and Professor Minerva McGonagall. But where acromantulas and the Transfiguration professor differed was that the giant spiders had eight eyes and legs, and the professor didn't. Their bite was exactly the same, though: venomous and deadly.

The professor's dark eyes traveled from my face to the blank piece of parchment on the table. Her lips thinned.

"I want to see words on that paper before study hall is over, Miss Capaldi," she said, her voice stern and unyielding. "Anything less than a paragraph, and it's points off."

"Yes, Professor." I nodded vigorously. "I'll get right on it."

She flicked her wand and my quill came to rest by my hand. Then she was off in a swirl of emerald robes. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Told you so," Leigh muttered under her breath.

I flipped her off before resigning myself to scribble a paragraph about Gamp's Law that was sure to be wrong.

I couldn't wait for study hall to be over.

"This is the most bogus thing I've ever seen in my life."

I snatched the parchment from James's hands, scowling. I'd asked him to look over the pathetic excuse for a paragraph I'd written in study hall, but I was beginning to regret that now after seeing the incredulous look on his face he'd made while reading.

"It's hard to write an essay for something you know nothing about," I retorted, shoving the parchment into my book bag and slamming the locker door shut. We had just changed into our Quidditch robes, ready for that evening's practice. I grabbed my broomstick and marched out to the pitch, James in tow.

"Don't you own a copy of the spellbook needed for N.E.W.T. Transfiguration?" he asked, easily falling into step beside me with his much longer legs. "Y'know, the one that's required for the course?"

I sniffed. "Of course I do."

"Have you bothered opening it since buying it?"

My silence was answer enough. He sighed. "Look, Clee, I know I agreed to help you with your homework, but I still need some effort from you. I'm more than willing to lend you my notes and give you pointers, but I'm not going to do the damn thing for you. I have my own work, too."

I huffed. "Yes, yes, I know." I ran a gloved hand over my braid and tugged on the end of it. "I'll do my best. It'll suck, fair warning—but I'll try."

He tapped my shoulder with the handle of his broom. "That's the spirit, Capaldi. Now, keep it up; ten laps around the pitch. No flying."

He raised his voice after saying my name, so the players milling in the center of the pitch heard him, too. Everyone groaned, but he silenced them with a sharp look.

"No complaints. Not if we want to win the Cup this year. What are we?"

"Gryffindors," we all said, half-heartedly.

"WHAT ARE WE?"

"GRYFFINDORS!"

He nodded. "Much better. After laps, we'll grab our brooms and practice some of those plays before we split for dinner. All right?"

Everyone nodded before setting their brooms down and grudgingly beginning to jog. I stayed with James as one of the players peeled off from the group and came to join us, strolling lazily across the grass.

"Sparing yourself from the torture of your own making, Prongs?" Sirius Black said to James. He nodded to me when he got closer, his grin fading. "Capaldi."

I nodded back. "Black."

Though Sirius was James's best friend and my teammate for the last five years, I'd never say we were more than just acquaintances. I rather thought he was an arrogant bastard with an inflated sense of self-importance, and I'd never really approved of his on-again, off-again relationship with Renee. I wasn't blind; I knew he cared for her, but I also knew that he was far too immature to ever settle with her—something he knew as well, after I'd chewed him out for it last year. Since then, we pretty much tried to avoid each other at all costs; except for Quidditch, where we were forced to be teammates.

Sirius grinned at James. Godric, it really was unfair how handsome he was. How was I supposed to dislike a face that pretty?

"Are you going to do laps with us, Captain, or are you just going to hold the whip?" he said.

James smirked. "I'll think about it, Padfoot." He jerked his chin to the jogging players. "Go on ahead; I'll catch up. I just need to talk to Cleo first."

Sirius and I shared a quizzical glance. Apparently, neither of us knew what he was referring to, but Sirius shrugged. "All right. See you in a few."

He took off, shaggy black hair bouncing with each step. Even his every move was graceful. Ugh.

James snickered beside me. "You could at least try looking a little less disgusted, Clee."

I sighed. "Sorry, sorry." I shook my head. "I know he's your best mate and all, but Renee is my best mate. And you know I don't approve of him leading her on for so long."

He looked uncomfortable, ruffling up his untidy hair even more. "Ah, he doesn't mean to. He just…has a lot he has to sort through."

I glanced sidelong to him. "Is he still living with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He says he plans on getting his own place soon—apparently, his Uncle Alphard wasn't a complete bastard, and actually left him a sizeable fortune in his will." He blew out his cheeks. "His mother wasn't pleased, I'm sure you could guess. She tried to go to the Wizengamot, get his inheritance voided since she'd disowned him. But they sided with Sirius, since he's of legal age and the will was a binding contract."

"Damn." I whistled. "I may not like him all that much, but that's still shitty." I nudged him with my elbow. "I'm glad he has you, though. You've always been good to him."

He waved me off, modest. "I'd do it for any of my friends."

We watched our teammates complete another lap before I spoke again. "So, what did you have to speak to me about?"

"Oh. That." He turned to me with a mischievous grin. "I've thought of my favor."

"And?"

His grin widened. "I think it's quite brilliant. But you'll have to wait until after practice to hear the details." He gestured to the jogging players. "Ten laps, Capaldi."

I stared, affronted. "Are you serious?"

"Nah, I'm James." He pointed to Sirius. "That's Sirius. And you should catch up to him; you're already two laps behind."

I thrust my broom into his hand as he laughed. "Your death will be slow and painful."

Disgruntled, I went to join my teammates, James still laughing behind me. "Ten laps, Capaldi!"

I flipped him off with both fingers, not sparing a glance back. His laughter followed me around the pitch, and I swore then that he would pay for this.

Practice was dreadful.

I trudged into the changing rooms with the rest of the team, sweaty and sore. James had put us through the wringer, drilling us on plays before finishing off with a long and brutal scrimmage. I wasn't sure what his strategy was; our first match with Hufflepuff was still two months away. Was he trying to exhaust us before then?

James, of course, wasn't nearly as tired as the rest of us, though he'd played just as hard. He whistled cheerily as he swapped his Quidditch robes for our black school robes, while the rest of us could barely form a sentence.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my broom, about to head to dinner, before James's voice held me back.

"Cleo, stay behind a minute."

I turned, weary. I wasn't even interested in hearing about his favor anymore, I was so tired.

Our teammates cast me curious looks as they filed out, heading back to the castle. Sirius stayed, glancing between us in confusion. James jerked his head at him.

"Go on, Pads. I'll meet you and the lads for dinner in a few minutes."

Sirius still looked confused, but he shrugged. "Suit yourself." He left without a word to me, leaving James and me alone in the changing rooms.

James took his sweet time collecting his things, not speaking to me. I waited, my impatience growing by the minute. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"You planning on leaving me in suspense forever?" I asked him.

He shot me a wry grin. "Something like that."

"C'mon, James, I'm starving," I groaned. "Can't we just talk on our way to dinner?"

"Fine, fine, you big baby," he said. He hoisted his bag and broom over his shoulder. "Let's go, before you throw another tantrum."

I pushed my way out of the changing rooms with a scowl. "I don't throw tantrums."

He raised his eyebrows at me as we made our way out of the pitch, back to the castle. "After the match with Ravenclaw last year? When they beat us by two hundred points? I seem to recall you chucking your broom at Bertram Aubrey and threatening to beat the poor bloke senseless with his own bat."

"That match was bullshit, and you know it." I shook my head. "But I seem to recall you and Sirius using an illegal jinx on him the next day and sending him to the Hospital Wing with a head the size of Hagrid's pumpkins."

He chuckled. "Yeah. That one was fun."

In the gathering dusk, it was hard to see his face, but I could see the gleam of his teeth when he smiled. I punched his shoulder lightly. "So, what's this mysterious favor?"

"Oh. Right. That." He shifted the weight of his broom and cleared his throat. "So, er, just hear me out first before you say no. But all this last week, I've been thinking. And what's my biggest problem besides the conundrum that is Lily Evans?"

I gave him a cautious look that he must've missed in the dark. "Go on."

"My issue is that she doesn't see me in the way that I see her. The whole time we've been at Hogwarts, she's seen me as nothing but an arrogant, bullying toerag."

"I mean, you were…"

He waved me off. "I know, I know. And I still feel shitty for the way I acted back then. I was a total prat, no denying." He sighed. "But I got over that, and I think Evans noticed. But not in the way that I want. We're civil now, yeah, but Cleo—I can tell she feels something deeper. More than acquaintances, or partners, or friends. I know her—she's stubborn 'til the end, that one. And I know she won't admit that she has feelings for me. Not unless she has a reason to do so."

"It's nice to see you using that peanut-sized brain of yours."

He swiped at me, but missed by a foot since he couldn't see me. "Yeah, well, this peanut-sized brain came up with the most brilliant plan to get Evans to realize she's utterly in love with me."

"And what's that, Lover Boy?"

"I have to date someone else to make her jealous."

I blinked. "Okay. And?"

"That's where your favor comes in."

"Really? You waited a whole day to build up to this? If you wanted a list of girls that you can date, James, I have one the length of this broomstick. You wouldn't believe how many girls are disgustingly obsessed with you and your Marauder friends—"

"I don't want a list, Cleo," he said. "If I picked just any bird, Evans would see right through me, and detest me. I need someone plausible—someone that wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility. Someone I spend a lot of time with and who I'm clearly friends with."

I nodded slowly. "Peter's out of the question, then. Sorry, mate, but the lad just doesn't have the looks to pull it off. Remus could be an option—he's rather cute. But Sirius—now that's the winner. Fit as hell, the bad boy type, and you two are so close that it's rather gross—"

"Wait, what? You're talking about me dating Sirius?" He sounded outraged. "No, Cleo. You're missing the point entirely."

"Am I? C'mon—you two would be great together. You're two sides of the same coin. You'd go down as the most legendary Hogwarts couple to ever exist."

We'd reached the castle by this point. The light spilling out of the Entrance Hall onto the front steps illuminated us again, and I had to laugh at the look of sheer offense on his face.

"I'm not dating Sirius," he said. "No. Absolutely not. Out of the question."

I leaned against my broomstick and sighed. "Fine. So, who's your target?"

He glanced to the double doors of the school and ran a hand through his hair. With the doors wide open to the evening and dinner in full swing just beyond, we could hear the babble and chatter of the dining students from the Great Hall. When he looked back to me, the light from the castle glinted off his glasses, turning his hazel eyes to gold.

He grimaced and said, "You?"

I stared at him, absorbing the absurdity of what he'd just said. "Me?"

He rushed to explain. "Cleo, it makes perfect sense. We've known each other for years—play on the same team, in the same House, and everyone knows that we're friends. We get along, and, well—"

"I'm the only girl who makes logical sense?" I finished.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yes. And I know I'm calling it a favor, and that our rules say you can't back out, but I know what I'm asking is out there. I'll give you a loophole if you want to say no—"

"Okay," I said.

He stopped rambling. "Okay?"

"Okay, I'll do it, doofus."

He stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "Really? W-why?"

I smoothed a hand over my braid and shrugged. "It's a win-win. You've already agreed to help me with my homework until the holidays, and you're cashing in your favor. Not to mention that it would benefit me, too, by getting all these annoying blokes off my back trying to ask me to Hogsmeade and stuff."

He still looked stunned. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "I dunno if you've noticed, doofus, but I'm not hideous. Blokes ask me out, and I want it to stop. I'm not interested in any of them. Having a boyfriend—even a fake one—would get them to shut up."

He opened and closed his mouth several times before saying, "I…wasn't expecting this to go this easily. I had a speech prepared for you and everything."

"Well, save it." I shrugged again. "I'll do it."

He glanced to the castle and then back to me. "Er…cool. So, what's our deal? How long do we keep this up?"

I deliberated. "Until Christmas. If you can't get Evans to like you back by then, then we'll stop. No use dragging it out forever."

"Sounds good." He ruffled up his hair some more. "You know we'll have to pretend like we're actually dating, right? Going to Hogsmeade, holding hands and such…"

I snorted. "I'm not repulsed by human contact, even if it is you that I'll be holding hands with. Kidding." I grinned when he frowned. "You're saying all this as if we're going to be snogging in some empty classroom. It doesn't even have to go that far. Just the rumor that we're dating should be enough."

"You're right." He nodded. "Er, we shouldn't dive right in, though. I was thinking we could build up to being official first. That way it's not so suspicious."

"Agreed. Have any ideas?"

"I have a date set," he said. "October 15th. That's the day I'll pretend to ask you out officially."

"So, we just have to play our parts, then. Make it look as realistic as possible, so everyone's convinced. Especially Lily."

He nodded. "Exactly."

I looked into the Entrance Hall, the warm light of the candles and torches grazing my face. He touched my elbow, gazing at me seriously.

"You don't have to do this, Cleo," he said. "I can always find another way. But if you're sure…then thank you. Really. This…means a lot to me."

I gave him a lopsided grin. "That's what friends are for, right?"

He smiled and nodded. "Right." He spit into his hand. "I solemnly swear to uphold my end of the deal, so long as you uphold yours."

I spit into my own palm. "And I solemnly swear I will do my part, just as I trust you'll do yours."

And then we shook hands, our deal sealed.

Please review! I love hearing from y'all!

And so it begins...

Also, I stole the study hall concept from that one scene in The Goblet of Fire movie with Snape. Probably not canon, but I like the concept of it.

Next Chapter: The Less I Know the Better

xx