Chapter 4!
Disclaimers apply. I own Fallon. Try to steal her at your own risk. You might end up in the hospital with acute cyanide poisoning and a broken collarbone.
~ ~ ~
Fallon went to the 5th year girls' dormitory with her tray of food. Ravyn was still sulking, although she gratefully accepted the food that Fallon brought her.
"So, you didn't finish telling me what was wrong," Fallon said as she poured her friend a cup of tea.
Ravyn gave a little sniffle, "He's CHEATING on me, the bloody wanker!"
"With PARKINSON?! That's rich... why the devil would he do such a thing?"
"I don't know," Ravyn gave a discontented sigh as she spooned some of the requisite post-lover's-spat-soul-food ice cream into her pouting mouth. "I walked in, and there he was, lying on the bloody couch, her on top of him, his hands on her shoulders. I don't UNDERSTAND! She's got the face of a PUG!"
"Not to mention the intelligence level of a narcoleptic flobberworm," Fallon muttered. "Did you ask him about it?"
"Of course I did! I asked him 'Draco Malfoy, what the bloody sodding HELL do you think you're DOING with that floozy?!'"
"And?"
"And he got all snippy and told me that he was doing nothing! But I SAW them snogging!" Ravyn wailed, "What's the MATTER with him?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Fallon shrugged, "No blinking clue right now... but if I find anything out, I'll let you know, hmm? Now finish your dinner."
"All right," Ravyn picked up her sandwich and took a delicate bite, chewed, then swallowed, "And Fallon... "
"Yes, if I truly find that he is as much of a bastard as you feel he is, I WILL kick him in the groin. With high heels," Fallon rolled her eyes slightly as she reassured her friend.
"Thanks, you're the best."
"PLEASE don't mention it," Fallon sneered somewhat. The girls giggled, and Fallon left to let Ravyn finish her sulking and her dinner in peace.
* * *
The next afternoon found Cassius Warrington sitting in the library, working on an assignment for an essay for Transfiguration and looking up the easiest way to change a robe into a rosebush, when he heard two familiar female voices about a shelf away from him.
"So, Dracie is going to go with me now, I can FEEL it!" A mincing, shrill squeal. Parkinson. Warrington raised an eyebrow, and stopped writing and turning the pages of his book. That area of the library was entirely silent except for Pansy's conversation.
"Oh?" A lower, grunting voice, also female, somewhat obtuse. Millicent Bulstrode, "Di' he tell ya that? Really?"
Pansy gave a sniff, "Well, not yet... but he's no longer with that De Borgia bint! She saw me snogging him, and then they had this fight!" The girl's voice was maliciously gleeful, "He'll want ME now!"
"Oh... great," Millicent grunted in reply, "Say, d'ya know how ta make that potion that makes hair look more shiny?"
"No idea," Pansy sniffed again, "I have certainly never needed it. Anderson would know, but I HATE her. She's such a horrid bitch, and a slut too! That Hufflepuff Chaser Marsden wants in her knickers! I'll bet that ALL she does is make cosmetic potions to make herself look pretty! Ugh... I HATE that bint! ALL she does is flaunt herself like a whore and make potions and make people suffer! I hope that her cauldron blows up someday in her face and burns her hair off!"
The voices then died off, and Cassius Warrington was left sitting there, eyes narrowed.
INTERESTING... so it was as Fallon had deduced, and Parkinson had snogged Malfoy. What a stupid bint! And the remarks about Fallon... All right, so Fallon WAS rather... difficult at times. But who was Parkinson to call her a slut, when she herself was 'flaunting' herself in front of Draco Malfoy in such a sick-making manner? And Pansy wasn't a tenth as attractive as Fallon... not that HE noticed how attractive Fallon was, of course! As for potions... well, what was wrong with a girl being good at that? Better a girl with a sharp mind than an empty-headed twit who drove a bloke nutters with her inane giggling! And as for that Hufflepuff Chaser... well, if Fallon didn't make it QUITE clear to the bastard that she was uninterested...
All right, he would STOP thinking about Fallon BEFORE he decided to get all daft and protective of her. He really didn't care, it was not his business, and besides, the girl could take care of herself.
But the other information that he had heard... he would have to tell her. Yes. He had Quidditch practice that night... but afterwards, they should talk.
* * *
Fallon Anderson was in the greenhouse, occupied with harvesting Angelica leaves to make a heart-strengthening potion, when a tawny owl flew in and dropped a note in her hand. Placing the last of the Angelica leaves in her basket, Fallon unrolled the small piece of parchment.
Written in a large, forcible scrawl, were the words, "Quidditch pitch, nine o'clock".
~ ~ ~
Lalalala! More to come!
Disclaimers apply. I own Fallon. Try to steal her at your own risk. You might end up in the hospital with acute cyanide poisoning and a broken collarbone.
~ ~ ~
Fallon went to the 5th year girls' dormitory with her tray of food. Ravyn was still sulking, although she gratefully accepted the food that Fallon brought her.
"So, you didn't finish telling me what was wrong," Fallon said as she poured her friend a cup of tea.
Ravyn gave a little sniffle, "He's CHEATING on me, the bloody wanker!"
"With PARKINSON?! That's rich... why the devil would he do such a thing?"
"I don't know," Ravyn gave a discontented sigh as she spooned some of the requisite post-lover's-spat-soul-food ice cream into her pouting mouth. "I walked in, and there he was, lying on the bloody couch, her on top of him, his hands on her shoulders. I don't UNDERSTAND! She's got the face of a PUG!"
"Not to mention the intelligence level of a narcoleptic flobberworm," Fallon muttered. "Did you ask him about it?"
"Of course I did! I asked him 'Draco Malfoy, what the bloody sodding HELL do you think you're DOING with that floozy?!'"
"And?"
"And he got all snippy and told me that he was doing nothing! But I SAW them snogging!" Ravyn wailed, "What's the MATTER with him?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Fallon shrugged, "No blinking clue right now... but if I find anything out, I'll let you know, hmm? Now finish your dinner."
"All right," Ravyn picked up her sandwich and took a delicate bite, chewed, then swallowed, "And Fallon... "
"Yes, if I truly find that he is as much of a bastard as you feel he is, I WILL kick him in the groin. With high heels," Fallon rolled her eyes slightly as she reassured her friend.
"Thanks, you're the best."
"PLEASE don't mention it," Fallon sneered somewhat. The girls giggled, and Fallon left to let Ravyn finish her sulking and her dinner in peace.
* * *
The next afternoon found Cassius Warrington sitting in the library, working on an assignment for an essay for Transfiguration and looking up the easiest way to change a robe into a rosebush, when he heard two familiar female voices about a shelf away from him.
"So, Dracie is going to go with me now, I can FEEL it!" A mincing, shrill squeal. Parkinson. Warrington raised an eyebrow, and stopped writing and turning the pages of his book. That area of the library was entirely silent except for Pansy's conversation.
"Oh?" A lower, grunting voice, also female, somewhat obtuse. Millicent Bulstrode, "Di' he tell ya that? Really?"
Pansy gave a sniff, "Well, not yet... but he's no longer with that De Borgia bint! She saw me snogging him, and then they had this fight!" The girl's voice was maliciously gleeful, "He'll want ME now!"
"Oh... great," Millicent grunted in reply, "Say, d'ya know how ta make that potion that makes hair look more shiny?"
"No idea," Pansy sniffed again, "I have certainly never needed it. Anderson would know, but I HATE her. She's such a horrid bitch, and a slut too! That Hufflepuff Chaser Marsden wants in her knickers! I'll bet that ALL she does is make cosmetic potions to make herself look pretty! Ugh... I HATE that bint! ALL she does is flaunt herself like a whore and make potions and make people suffer! I hope that her cauldron blows up someday in her face and burns her hair off!"
The voices then died off, and Cassius Warrington was left sitting there, eyes narrowed.
INTERESTING... so it was as Fallon had deduced, and Parkinson had snogged Malfoy. What a stupid bint! And the remarks about Fallon... All right, so Fallon WAS rather... difficult at times. But who was Parkinson to call her a slut, when she herself was 'flaunting' herself in front of Draco Malfoy in such a sick-making manner? And Pansy wasn't a tenth as attractive as Fallon... not that HE noticed how attractive Fallon was, of course! As for potions... well, what was wrong with a girl being good at that? Better a girl with a sharp mind than an empty-headed twit who drove a bloke nutters with her inane giggling! And as for that Hufflepuff Chaser... well, if Fallon didn't make it QUITE clear to the bastard that she was uninterested...
All right, he would STOP thinking about Fallon BEFORE he decided to get all daft and protective of her. He really didn't care, it was not his business, and besides, the girl could take care of herself.
But the other information that he had heard... he would have to tell her. Yes. He had Quidditch practice that night... but afterwards, they should talk.
* * *
Fallon Anderson was in the greenhouse, occupied with harvesting Angelica leaves to make a heart-strengthening potion, when a tawny owl flew in and dropped a note in her hand. Placing the last of the Angelica leaves in her basket, Fallon unrolled the small piece of parchment.
Written in a large, forcible scrawl, were the words, "Quidditch pitch, nine o'clock".
~ ~ ~
Lalalala! More to come!