Author's Note: I know I said that it'd be a three-or-four chapter ficlet,
but I think I overestimated my summarizing skills. This is already the
fourth chapter, and I doubt my fic will end here. Maybe another chapter or
so to go. Meanwhile, though, please enjoy! Oh, and review, too. [Take into
consideration the fact that I'm skipping studying for an all-important
Chinese test that's to take place this Thursday just to present you this
fic.]
He Who Is Not Mine
By like a falling star
Yum. I love pumpkin juice. Especially when teamed with mounds and mounds of buttered roast potatoes, hot Shepard's pie, fried chicken thighs topped with thick brown gravy, rice puddings dribbling with sweet golden syrup and the sort.
The house elves sure know how to make a girl happy.
I set the glass back onto the table with a satisfied sigh, and, with an almost practiced casualness, automatically turn to watch the Griffindor table.
Yes, there he is. Not The Boy-Who-Lived, but The Boy of My Dreams, he of the wonderfully red hair and dreamy blue eyes. I notice thankfully, with a smile, that Ron isn't feeding Hermione or anything horribly and disgustingly mushy like that.
My smile falters as I realize that he's looking across the table, an adorably goofy look on his face. Need I elaborate that he's not looking at me, but at Hermione?
I snatch my eyes away, and they slide effortlessly over to where another redhead sits. Ginny Weasley, to be exact.
Though frankly her hair is more coppery auburn than red.
I'm supposed to be having patrolling duty with her tonight. It's Friday, after all. I try to catch her eye, but fail, and it's then that I realize that Ginny doesn't seem to be paying attention at all.
Not that there's anything to pay attention to, but she seems to be horribly distracted with something across the room. I follow her line for vision and gasp. Not something. Someone.
Draco Malfoy. Oh Merlin.
"Leia, are you alright?" Stewart asks, looking concerned, waving a hand in front of my face.
"'Course I'm fine." I mumble, then make an effort to smile at him. The poor boy is just concerned. I really shouldn't snap at him.
I tear my eyes away back to the Slytherin table, where Draco and his cronies sit. From the corner of my eye I see Ginny smile shyly. And then - to my utmost horror and shock and astonishment - Draco smiles back. I nearly fall out of my chair. It's not his signature smirk, nor anything suggestive or lecherous, nor the usual Malfoy-esque cold teeth-baring.
It's a grin, and it's a damn gorgeous grin at that. Of course, Malfoy's cute. Anyone with half a brain can see that. But I prefer Ron, of course. He doesn't bite your head off if you try to speak to him.
I suppress a secret smile. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, eh? Who would've thought?
*
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That. Like.. that sound." A pause. "There's someone there."
"You think so?" I don't hear anything.
"I'd reckon, yeah. Wands out, just in case."
I mentally run through the list of hexes and counter-curses that we've learnt so far in Defence Against the Dark Arts. No point in dying before I graduate. Not that it's going to help much, though, if it happens to be Voldemort or a Death Eater or something.
But at least I'd be prepared.
I fling open the door to the fourth-year Charms classroom, brandishing my wand.
"Lumos!" Light spills out of Ginny's wand and someone squeals.
I barely have time to make out two silhouettes before the light is switched on.
It's a pair of very embarrassed-looking fourth-year Hufflepuffs.
"Nox." Ginny's looking at them, a knowing smile lighting her features. She's rather pretty, I think. Well, would I expect anything less from someone related to Ron? "Helga Green, isn't it? And Donald Turnip?"
The pair nod, reddening.
She looks up, considering.
And I know just what she's going to say. "We won't tell anyone that we caught you here, but you've got to promise not to do it again." I tell them. "It's dangerous to be out here at night. Do you have any idea how worried your friends might be, with you missing?"
They look down sheepishly.
"I don't want to catch you sneaking out again." Ginny says in a stern voice. She pauses. "Look. I know what you were doing. There's nothing to be ashamed of, really. Just don't take such a risk again. Is that alright?"
Helga and Donald nod, and leave quickly.
Ginny beams at me. "We make a great team, don't we?"
I grin back at her. I was thinking exactly the same thing.
*
He Who Is Not Mine
By like a falling star
Yum. I love pumpkin juice. Especially when teamed with mounds and mounds of buttered roast potatoes, hot Shepard's pie, fried chicken thighs topped with thick brown gravy, rice puddings dribbling with sweet golden syrup and the sort.
The house elves sure know how to make a girl happy.
I set the glass back onto the table with a satisfied sigh, and, with an almost practiced casualness, automatically turn to watch the Griffindor table.
Yes, there he is. Not The Boy-Who-Lived, but The Boy of My Dreams, he of the wonderfully red hair and dreamy blue eyes. I notice thankfully, with a smile, that Ron isn't feeding Hermione or anything horribly and disgustingly mushy like that.
My smile falters as I realize that he's looking across the table, an adorably goofy look on his face. Need I elaborate that he's not looking at me, but at Hermione?
I snatch my eyes away, and they slide effortlessly over to where another redhead sits. Ginny Weasley, to be exact.
Though frankly her hair is more coppery auburn than red.
I'm supposed to be having patrolling duty with her tonight. It's Friday, after all. I try to catch her eye, but fail, and it's then that I realize that Ginny doesn't seem to be paying attention at all.
Not that there's anything to pay attention to, but she seems to be horribly distracted with something across the room. I follow her line for vision and gasp. Not something. Someone.
Draco Malfoy. Oh Merlin.
"Leia, are you alright?" Stewart asks, looking concerned, waving a hand in front of my face.
"'Course I'm fine." I mumble, then make an effort to smile at him. The poor boy is just concerned. I really shouldn't snap at him.
I tear my eyes away back to the Slytherin table, where Draco and his cronies sit. From the corner of my eye I see Ginny smile shyly. And then - to my utmost horror and shock and astonishment - Draco smiles back. I nearly fall out of my chair. It's not his signature smirk, nor anything suggestive or lecherous, nor the usual Malfoy-esque cold teeth-baring.
It's a grin, and it's a damn gorgeous grin at that. Of course, Malfoy's cute. Anyone with half a brain can see that. But I prefer Ron, of course. He doesn't bite your head off if you try to speak to him.
I suppress a secret smile. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, eh? Who would've thought?
*
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That. Like.. that sound." A pause. "There's someone there."
"You think so?" I don't hear anything.
"I'd reckon, yeah. Wands out, just in case."
I mentally run through the list of hexes and counter-curses that we've learnt so far in Defence Against the Dark Arts. No point in dying before I graduate. Not that it's going to help much, though, if it happens to be Voldemort or a Death Eater or something.
But at least I'd be prepared.
I fling open the door to the fourth-year Charms classroom, brandishing my wand.
"Lumos!" Light spills out of Ginny's wand and someone squeals.
I barely have time to make out two silhouettes before the light is switched on.
It's a pair of very embarrassed-looking fourth-year Hufflepuffs.
"Nox." Ginny's looking at them, a knowing smile lighting her features. She's rather pretty, I think. Well, would I expect anything less from someone related to Ron? "Helga Green, isn't it? And Donald Turnip?"
The pair nod, reddening.
She looks up, considering.
And I know just what she's going to say. "We won't tell anyone that we caught you here, but you've got to promise not to do it again." I tell them. "It's dangerous to be out here at night. Do you have any idea how worried your friends might be, with you missing?"
They look down sheepishly.
"I don't want to catch you sneaking out again." Ginny says in a stern voice. She pauses. "Look. I know what you were doing. There's nothing to be ashamed of, really. Just don't take such a risk again. Is that alright?"
Helga and Donald nod, and leave quickly.
Ginny beams at me. "We make a great team, don't we?"
I grin back at her. I was thinking exactly the same thing.
*
