Author's Note: Phew, where did everyone go? Anyway, this entry's pretty
straightforward, a bit boring but I need it to go on to better things.
Also I made a mistake in my first chapter intro, which says this story takes place in the three stooges third year. It takes place in the second. I'll correct that when I get time to do little things like that.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter and co, would like to borrow Roger Davies but would not return him in very good condition, causing his original owner to become very vexed. Natalia's jogging song is based on "Stuck in the Middle with you" by Stealer's Wheel.
# # # # # # # # #
Entry Seven: Oh brother
Natalia receives a visit from an old friend who drops off something that could prove very useful to her..
8:54 AM, September 16th
Well, just had my first brush with "greatness" today, and do note the parentheses on a certain part of previous statement. They denote sarcasm. Lots of it.
Bumped into You-Guessed-It and his two groupies, Her-Might-Be Grater and the Interchangeable Weasel-y outside the library. They never seem to leave his side. Apparently you don't need to be a rapper to have an entourage in this school, just not have the decency to die properly.
Want my own entourage.
11:04 AM
Boring, boring, the Fat Friar is snoring, yes it's time for Binns' class again. On first day of term Roger told me how he came to be the only ghost teacher in the school, and within ten minutes of first class, could see how "he" would forget his body. Would forget his head if wasn't screwed on, wait, no longer has head since is completely missing a body...ha ha.
No one would forget my body in a hurry.
Actually, today's class wasn't so bad. Binns (alias Dim) was yawning on about Veelas, which been a siren and seductress of impressionable young men myself, I have more than passing interest in. Although to be honest, knew a girl in Italy who was part Veela and don't know what they have that I don't. Oh, who am I kidding, they're "made" to lure men to their deaths!
"Professor," I began as Dim paused for breath (can't see why this so important to him since dead already), "so it therefore follows that if a Veela were to marry a wizard or a Muggle, she would then pass down her powers to any female offspring?"
"Yes, that is correct, Miss Adani," Dim said loftily.
Next to me Adrian Pucey sniggered for asking such an obvious question, but I was aiming for greater things. "So if a Veela was to have a male offspring, what would happen? Would he get her powers too?"
"Well, Miss Adani," Dim drawled, removing his glasses and polishing them, "that is not known to me." Really believable that history professor does not comprehend much about Veelas, as would constitute knowledge of something related to sex appeal. Which Dim appears to have precious little of. "As you may know such cases of a Veela wedding a mortal man are few and far between. The last known incident occurred in 1962, and let me tell you that as far as happenings in "that" decade go," he sniffed with obvious disapproval, "it was one of the lesser remarkable."
"That decade produced the sexual revolution," Adrian echoed, whispering under his breath to me, "which I'm sure you're aware of."
Made mental note to cuff Adrian when Dim next turns back to blackboard.
"But Professor," I persevered, "surely if a witch can't marry a Muggle and have a wizard son, then a Veela can have a male offspring with her powers?"
"Yes, Miss Adani," Dim said with air of thinly-concealed-anyway-back-to-me impatience, "but being a Veela is something that is exclusively female."
"In the same way that being a witch is also something that is exclusively female," I said triumphantly. "There are mermen. Why not male Veelas?"
"You have raised a very interesting question today, Miss Adani," Dim acknowledged. Adrian sniggered again. "Perhaps you should consider looking it during your own time? Now, onto the Great Veela Frustration of 1396, which coincided with the Black Death and therefore a shortage of eligible males-"
Ha! He hasn't made the connection. What a dumb-arse.
"That was an interesting display," Adrian whispered to me with a smirk. "Are you sure you weren't meant to be in Ravenclaw?"
Told him he could shut up right now and bowed over my scroll of notes.
Adrian would not be put off. "So, does this sudden interest in seductive females mean that Hogwarts is getting to you too?" he grinned.
God, sure hope not.
3:41 PM
Now getting changed for third Quidditch practice in as many days in Ravenclaw girl's dorm. Roger sure means business. Today a little strange as Fearless Leader requested that we not wear our Quidditch uniforms at all, but Muggle exercise clothes. Also (and this makes no sense) wants us to leave brooms behind.
?????????????????????????????????????
Anyway, Ravenclaw females clearly driving Roger insane. Will consider drastic steps for mercy lay if his temper does not improve soon.
3:45 PM
Collided with You-Guessed-It's stalker, Colin Creevey, in the hall. Now there's someone who needs more than a good roll in the hay. This is beyond my skill to heal.
Besides, he's only eleven!
3:51 PM
Arrived in just enough time to avoid tongue-lashing. Normally quite like tongue-lashings, just not the type Roger had in mind.
"Great to see everyone arrived on time today," he began, sending another significant look in my direction. He should watch wind doesn't change when he does that, or may end up looking like Flint. "You may have noticed I requested for you to leave your brooms behind, and be wondering why it is that I made that request."
"No shit, Slytherin," I muttered.
Roger sent me another sharp look. "The reason why I did this is that a fit team is an alert team, and an alert team does not make stupid mistakes. Therefore I have decided to make Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays team running days."
My mouth dropped to Peru.
Cho Chang raised hand apprehensively. "But Roger, we don't run during Quidditch," she explained in the gentle tone one uses for someone one fears is insane and highly volatile. And in dire need of a mercy lay. "We ride broomsticks."
"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Chang," Roger snapped. Cho's face fell. Remembering her tentative, sympathetic look on Saturday, caught her eye and gave her what hoped was a reassuring smile. But don't really "do" reassuring. "We do use our legs during Quidditch, for balancing, stretching forward, staying on our broomsticks and guiding direction when our hands are occupied. And don't fear that we will be doing this conditioning at the expense of our normal Quidditch drills. We will be meeting for a three hour training tomorrow morning to go through those."
Fear? "Now" I'm feeling fear, buddy.
"But if we have to get up that early we'll be tired for the rest of the day," Malcolm Brocklehurst protested. "I won't be able to concentrate in any of my classes, and this year I take my NEWTs."
"The trick, Brocklehurst, when getting up early," Roger explained pleasantly, "is not to go to bed the night before."
"Crazy," Alessandro Bombardino muttered.
"Nah, just not getting enough," I muttered back.
"I was talking about Davies, not you," he said. Shit, is it that obvious? Self-obsessed jerk. Must remind self not to hit Bludgers at own teammates during next game.
"Alright then, everyone, the sooner we get started, the sooner we can start weight training afterwards," Roger clapped his hands. "Everyone, out to the front gate, then the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, then around the back of the school TWICE. Let's go!"
"Roger," I hissed to him, "you do realise that one sign of a sexually frustrated person is the sudden need to exercise strenuously?"
"Exactly, Nat, which is why I thought this experience would be good for you," the bastard replied cheerfully. "See you back here in an hour."
4:16 PM
Must. Keep. On. Moving. Legs.
Only time feet have hurt so badly before was when just returned from marathon shopping session in Milan while wearing Manalo Blahnik stilettos.
Am going to kill that skinny little bastard.
Must. Make. Feet. Pick. Up. Off. The. Ground.
Alessandro charged past me, carrying small second year on back. "Weight training," he called over his shoulder.
And he thinks Rogers crazy.
4:29 PM
I know what I need, a jogging song! Like what they have in Muggle armies. And Muggle slaves used to sing songs while picking cotton, which their overseers thought were nice happy little Walt Disney soundtrack songs but in actuality were rebellious chants. Go slaves. Hmm, this slave could say plenty about "her" overseer. Something like, "Roger is really dumb/Because he made me go for a run-"
Merlin, know I can do better than that.
Okay, here goes...
* * * * *
NATALIA'S JOGGING SONG
Well I don't know why I joined this house tonight
I got a feeling that something ain't right
I'm so bored I could snore off my chair
And my heels can't get down those stairs
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you
And I'm wondering who it is I should do
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face
Because I just maimed Flint with my mace
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Well I started off in New York now I'm stuck in Hogwarts help me now
And I sent my owl to mamma with a letter that's saying, "Plee-ee-ease-ease- ease.
Plee-ee-ease-ease-ease..."
Trying to make some sense of it all
And Rogers driving me up the wall
Last night I slept on the common room floor
Because Penelope started to snore
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Well I started off in New York now I'm stuck in Hogwarts help me now
And I sent my owl to mamma with a letter that's saying, "Plee-ee-ease-ease- ease.
Plee-ee-ease-ease-ease..."
And I'm wondering why I joined this house tonight
I got a feeling Goyle just started a fight
OWLs approaching but I just don't care
And Gryffindors are meddling in my affairs
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you
Stuck in the middle with you
Ravenclaw I'm stuck in the middle with you..
* * * * *
"Natalia, Natalia," someone called out to me. "Salut, Natalia!"
4:41 PM
Why do I always meet the most beautiful people while looking like total crap? Goes for girls as well as guys.
Fleur Delacourt is only person in world who manages to be (a) totally gorgeous, (b) female, (c) not a potential screw (that should go without saying because of (b), but maybe not at this school), and (d) still friends with me. Well, technically, not considered competition because is part Veela.
"I'm" not competition for "her," that is.
"Ciao, Natalia," she said, leaning in to kiss me on both cheeks, but being very careful not to touch me as did so. Or assumedly smell me. "I am just een Ogwarts for ay visite mais I will ve retuning oo Beauxbatons dees evening. Ca va?"
"Ca va very bad, as you can see," I said, gesturing towards my muddy, sweat appearance. "The food stinks, meaning it both smells and tastes bad, my house prefect is a cow, I've already had two detentions, there's no central heating anywhere in this place, my Quidditch captain is making me run three times a week, and since the only decent straight guy around is my best friend, I've haven't been laid since I got here. In other words, I'm fine."
"Ooh, c'est tres mal," she said with only token attempt at sympathy. Fumed at this. "It ees foony vat oo last said oo me, since I thought oo would ve dee last girl oo would 'ave trouble in dat eepardment." There was hint of condescension in last part of sentence. See, this is why don't enjoy being friends with girls. Gets too competitive and petty.
"So why are you here?" I asked, slightly rudely.
"I am joost oocompanying my older brodeere oo Ogwarts," she replied. "E 'as decided on ay last minuite transfer 'ere oo improve ees English."
Older brother? Older BROTHER? OLDER brother?
Emphasised every part of last sentence because all are equally worthy of being emphasised. Oh brother. "And is there much of a similarity between you and him?" I whispered hopefully.
"Ooh, peeopel say dat ve look like tweens," Fleur said breezily, oblivious to my salivating. Jumped as loud crash in clearing sounded, followed by crunching of leaves. "Dat vell ve heem now."
Her equally gorgeous (if not more, because can appreciate him in way that could never appreciate her, and wonder why keep on feeling obliged to point out such things) sibling strode into the clearing, brushing leaves from his cloak. As he bent down to pull the tops of his boots up, caught glimpse down the front of his tie-front shirt. My own personal sanity took unpaid leave from work.
Professor Bimms, I can answer your question now.
"Luc, oo deed not oose de Floo Powdeire properly," Fleur scolded him, speaking English for my benefit. Is quite nice and considerate at times. Damn her. "Oo vill break your leg one of dese days."
"I sneezed as I called out the destination," Luc protested. Unlike Fleur spoke English quickly and with only a faint trace of an accent. Obviously does not need to practice the tongue, but am still glad he came here. Perhaps could practice with my tongue. "I have had a cold for about a week now, which need I remind you, you gave me."
As siblings enjoyed touching last quarrel, took the opportunity to observe Luc. Fleur's assessment not entirely correct, as two are alike yet unlike. Luc is basically an outdoor, warmer version of the pale-skinned, platinum- hued hair Fleur. Has tanned, almost olive, skin and thick wavy locks that are more of a golden brown than a blonde. His eyes and nose are similar to his sister's, but he possesses a square jaw and a cleft on his chin which nicely masculinise his features and give them a strength and vitality that Fleur's lack. He is about half a foot taller than Fleur, who is tall for a girl, which means he'll be able to tower over me and make me feel small and safe for once in my life, whoopee! And those shoulders. Don't ask me what thoughts those shoulders give me...
"Anyvay, oo are late for your appointerment vith Professeire Dumbeldoer, and I 'ave spent twontee minutes loooking fere oo," Fleur concluded. "By de vay, dis ees my friend Natalia, oo I vent to bearrding schoo vith en Italie."
"Bonjour," Luc turned to me. And smiled. Unable to force motor skills to do anything else, I nodded. "As my sister so "nicely" pointed out, I am late for my appointment with the head of your school. What is the way to his office?"
"Front door, to the left," I said with a dry throat. "Password's "Tutti- Fruit"."
"Thank you," he beamed, then turned on his heel and dashed in the direction of the castle. "Hope to see you soon, Natalia."
With Luc's significant presence removed, could now think normally. And move. And breathe. "Wow, he is something," I sighed. "How much older is he than you?"
"Oo yearhs. Ee vill ve ay soventh 'ear dis 'ear," Fleur said mildly, then an impish grin formed on her effing perfect mouth. "So, oo I take eet dat my brodeere vill emprove your time at 'Ogwarts?"
"Oh, most definitely," I said. "Best Christmas present I've ever had." Then a horrible thought occurred to me. Not that it's necessarily a horrible way to be, but situation-wise not good for me. "He isn't, you know, is he?"
"Oo mean omosexualle?" Fleur asked. "Non, non, mais non. My brodeere ees de last boy oo would ve dat vay. Now vile I'm 'ere, is dere anyting else I can dew for oo?"
"Well, actually there is," I began, "and I think you might quite enjoy it. You see, my Quidditch captain, my male and straight and very attractive Quidditch captain, has been a bit out of sorts lately.."
Also I made a mistake in my first chapter intro, which says this story takes place in the three stooges third year. It takes place in the second. I'll correct that when I get time to do little things like that.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter and co, would like to borrow Roger Davies but would not return him in very good condition, causing his original owner to become very vexed. Natalia's jogging song is based on "Stuck in the Middle with you" by Stealer's Wheel.
# # # # # # # # #
Entry Seven: Oh brother
Natalia receives a visit from an old friend who drops off something that could prove very useful to her..
8:54 AM, September 16th
Well, just had my first brush with "greatness" today, and do note the parentheses on a certain part of previous statement. They denote sarcasm. Lots of it.
Bumped into You-Guessed-It and his two groupies, Her-Might-Be Grater and the Interchangeable Weasel-y outside the library. They never seem to leave his side. Apparently you don't need to be a rapper to have an entourage in this school, just not have the decency to die properly.
Want my own entourage.
11:04 AM
Boring, boring, the Fat Friar is snoring, yes it's time for Binns' class again. On first day of term Roger told me how he came to be the only ghost teacher in the school, and within ten minutes of first class, could see how "he" would forget his body. Would forget his head if wasn't screwed on, wait, no longer has head since is completely missing a body...ha ha.
No one would forget my body in a hurry.
Actually, today's class wasn't so bad. Binns (alias Dim) was yawning on about Veelas, which been a siren and seductress of impressionable young men myself, I have more than passing interest in. Although to be honest, knew a girl in Italy who was part Veela and don't know what they have that I don't. Oh, who am I kidding, they're "made" to lure men to their deaths!
"Professor," I began as Dim paused for breath (can't see why this so important to him since dead already), "so it therefore follows that if a Veela were to marry a wizard or a Muggle, she would then pass down her powers to any female offspring?"
"Yes, that is correct, Miss Adani," Dim said loftily.
Next to me Adrian Pucey sniggered for asking such an obvious question, but I was aiming for greater things. "So if a Veela was to have a male offspring, what would happen? Would he get her powers too?"
"Well, Miss Adani," Dim drawled, removing his glasses and polishing them, "that is not known to me." Really believable that history professor does not comprehend much about Veelas, as would constitute knowledge of something related to sex appeal. Which Dim appears to have precious little of. "As you may know such cases of a Veela wedding a mortal man are few and far between. The last known incident occurred in 1962, and let me tell you that as far as happenings in "that" decade go," he sniffed with obvious disapproval, "it was one of the lesser remarkable."
"That decade produced the sexual revolution," Adrian echoed, whispering under his breath to me, "which I'm sure you're aware of."
Made mental note to cuff Adrian when Dim next turns back to blackboard.
"But Professor," I persevered, "surely if a witch can't marry a Muggle and have a wizard son, then a Veela can have a male offspring with her powers?"
"Yes, Miss Adani," Dim said with air of thinly-concealed-anyway-back-to-me impatience, "but being a Veela is something that is exclusively female."
"In the same way that being a witch is also something that is exclusively female," I said triumphantly. "There are mermen. Why not male Veelas?"
"You have raised a very interesting question today, Miss Adani," Dim acknowledged. Adrian sniggered again. "Perhaps you should consider looking it during your own time? Now, onto the Great Veela Frustration of 1396, which coincided with the Black Death and therefore a shortage of eligible males-"
Ha! He hasn't made the connection. What a dumb-arse.
"That was an interesting display," Adrian whispered to me with a smirk. "Are you sure you weren't meant to be in Ravenclaw?"
Told him he could shut up right now and bowed over my scroll of notes.
Adrian would not be put off. "So, does this sudden interest in seductive females mean that Hogwarts is getting to you too?" he grinned.
God, sure hope not.
3:41 PM
Now getting changed for third Quidditch practice in as many days in Ravenclaw girl's dorm. Roger sure means business. Today a little strange as Fearless Leader requested that we not wear our Quidditch uniforms at all, but Muggle exercise clothes. Also (and this makes no sense) wants us to leave brooms behind.
?????????????????????????????????????
Anyway, Ravenclaw females clearly driving Roger insane. Will consider drastic steps for mercy lay if his temper does not improve soon.
3:45 PM
Collided with You-Guessed-It's stalker, Colin Creevey, in the hall. Now there's someone who needs more than a good roll in the hay. This is beyond my skill to heal.
Besides, he's only eleven!
3:51 PM
Arrived in just enough time to avoid tongue-lashing. Normally quite like tongue-lashings, just not the type Roger had in mind.
"Great to see everyone arrived on time today," he began, sending another significant look in my direction. He should watch wind doesn't change when he does that, or may end up looking like Flint. "You may have noticed I requested for you to leave your brooms behind, and be wondering why it is that I made that request."
"No shit, Slytherin," I muttered.
Roger sent me another sharp look. "The reason why I did this is that a fit team is an alert team, and an alert team does not make stupid mistakes. Therefore I have decided to make Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays team running days."
My mouth dropped to Peru.
Cho Chang raised hand apprehensively. "But Roger, we don't run during Quidditch," she explained in the gentle tone one uses for someone one fears is insane and highly volatile. And in dire need of a mercy lay. "We ride broomsticks."
"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Chang," Roger snapped. Cho's face fell. Remembering her tentative, sympathetic look on Saturday, caught her eye and gave her what hoped was a reassuring smile. But don't really "do" reassuring. "We do use our legs during Quidditch, for balancing, stretching forward, staying on our broomsticks and guiding direction when our hands are occupied. And don't fear that we will be doing this conditioning at the expense of our normal Quidditch drills. We will be meeting for a three hour training tomorrow morning to go through those."
Fear? "Now" I'm feeling fear, buddy.
"But if we have to get up that early we'll be tired for the rest of the day," Malcolm Brocklehurst protested. "I won't be able to concentrate in any of my classes, and this year I take my NEWTs."
"The trick, Brocklehurst, when getting up early," Roger explained pleasantly, "is not to go to bed the night before."
"Crazy," Alessandro Bombardino muttered.
"Nah, just not getting enough," I muttered back.
"I was talking about Davies, not you," he said. Shit, is it that obvious? Self-obsessed jerk. Must remind self not to hit Bludgers at own teammates during next game.
"Alright then, everyone, the sooner we get started, the sooner we can start weight training afterwards," Roger clapped his hands. "Everyone, out to the front gate, then the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, then around the back of the school TWICE. Let's go!"
"Roger," I hissed to him, "you do realise that one sign of a sexually frustrated person is the sudden need to exercise strenuously?"
"Exactly, Nat, which is why I thought this experience would be good for you," the bastard replied cheerfully. "See you back here in an hour."
4:16 PM
Must. Keep. On. Moving. Legs.
Only time feet have hurt so badly before was when just returned from marathon shopping session in Milan while wearing Manalo Blahnik stilettos.
Am going to kill that skinny little bastard.
Must. Make. Feet. Pick. Up. Off. The. Ground.
Alessandro charged past me, carrying small second year on back. "Weight training," he called over his shoulder.
And he thinks Rogers crazy.
4:29 PM
I know what I need, a jogging song! Like what they have in Muggle armies. And Muggle slaves used to sing songs while picking cotton, which their overseers thought were nice happy little Walt Disney soundtrack songs but in actuality were rebellious chants. Go slaves. Hmm, this slave could say plenty about "her" overseer. Something like, "Roger is really dumb/Because he made me go for a run-"
Merlin, know I can do better than that.
Okay, here goes...
* * * * *
NATALIA'S JOGGING SONG
Well I don't know why I joined this house tonight
I got a feeling that something ain't right
I'm so bored I could snore off my chair
And my heels can't get down those stairs
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you
And I'm wondering who it is I should do
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face
Because I just maimed Flint with my mace
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Well I started off in New York now I'm stuck in Hogwarts help me now
And I sent my owl to mamma with a letter that's saying, "Plee-ee-ease-ease- ease.
Plee-ee-ease-ease-ease..."
Trying to make some sense of it all
And Rogers driving me up the wall
Last night I slept on the common room floor
Because Penelope started to snore
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Well I started off in New York now I'm stuck in Hogwarts help me now
And I sent my owl to mamma with a letter that's saying, "Plee-ee-ease-ease- ease.
Plee-ee-ease-ease-ease..."
And I'm wondering why I joined this house tonight
I got a feeling Goyle just started a fight
OWLs approaching but I just don't care
And Gryffindors are meddling in my affairs
Slytherins to the left of me, Hufflepuffs to the right
Here I am stuck in the middle with you
Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you
Stuck in the middle with you
Ravenclaw I'm stuck in the middle with you..
* * * * *
"Natalia, Natalia," someone called out to me. "Salut, Natalia!"
4:41 PM
Why do I always meet the most beautiful people while looking like total crap? Goes for girls as well as guys.
Fleur Delacourt is only person in world who manages to be (a) totally gorgeous, (b) female, (c) not a potential screw (that should go without saying because of (b), but maybe not at this school), and (d) still friends with me. Well, technically, not considered competition because is part Veela.
"I'm" not competition for "her," that is.
"Ciao, Natalia," she said, leaning in to kiss me on both cheeks, but being very careful not to touch me as did so. Or assumedly smell me. "I am just een Ogwarts for ay visite mais I will ve retuning oo Beauxbatons dees evening. Ca va?"
"Ca va very bad, as you can see," I said, gesturing towards my muddy, sweat appearance. "The food stinks, meaning it both smells and tastes bad, my house prefect is a cow, I've already had two detentions, there's no central heating anywhere in this place, my Quidditch captain is making me run three times a week, and since the only decent straight guy around is my best friend, I've haven't been laid since I got here. In other words, I'm fine."
"Ooh, c'est tres mal," she said with only token attempt at sympathy. Fumed at this. "It ees foony vat oo last said oo me, since I thought oo would ve dee last girl oo would 'ave trouble in dat eepardment." There was hint of condescension in last part of sentence. See, this is why don't enjoy being friends with girls. Gets too competitive and petty.
"So why are you here?" I asked, slightly rudely.
"I am joost oocompanying my older brodeere oo Ogwarts," she replied. "E 'as decided on ay last minuite transfer 'ere oo improve ees English."
Older brother? Older BROTHER? OLDER brother?
Emphasised every part of last sentence because all are equally worthy of being emphasised. Oh brother. "And is there much of a similarity between you and him?" I whispered hopefully.
"Ooh, peeopel say dat ve look like tweens," Fleur said breezily, oblivious to my salivating. Jumped as loud crash in clearing sounded, followed by crunching of leaves. "Dat vell ve heem now."
Her equally gorgeous (if not more, because can appreciate him in way that could never appreciate her, and wonder why keep on feeling obliged to point out such things) sibling strode into the clearing, brushing leaves from his cloak. As he bent down to pull the tops of his boots up, caught glimpse down the front of his tie-front shirt. My own personal sanity took unpaid leave from work.
Professor Bimms, I can answer your question now.
"Luc, oo deed not oose de Floo Powdeire properly," Fleur scolded him, speaking English for my benefit. Is quite nice and considerate at times. Damn her. "Oo vill break your leg one of dese days."
"I sneezed as I called out the destination," Luc protested. Unlike Fleur spoke English quickly and with only a faint trace of an accent. Obviously does not need to practice the tongue, but am still glad he came here. Perhaps could practice with my tongue. "I have had a cold for about a week now, which need I remind you, you gave me."
As siblings enjoyed touching last quarrel, took the opportunity to observe Luc. Fleur's assessment not entirely correct, as two are alike yet unlike. Luc is basically an outdoor, warmer version of the pale-skinned, platinum- hued hair Fleur. Has tanned, almost olive, skin and thick wavy locks that are more of a golden brown than a blonde. His eyes and nose are similar to his sister's, but he possesses a square jaw and a cleft on his chin which nicely masculinise his features and give them a strength and vitality that Fleur's lack. He is about half a foot taller than Fleur, who is tall for a girl, which means he'll be able to tower over me and make me feel small and safe for once in my life, whoopee! And those shoulders. Don't ask me what thoughts those shoulders give me...
"Anyvay, oo are late for your appointerment vith Professeire Dumbeldoer, and I 'ave spent twontee minutes loooking fere oo," Fleur concluded. "By de vay, dis ees my friend Natalia, oo I vent to bearrding schoo vith en Italie."
"Bonjour," Luc turned to me. And smiled. Unable to force motor skills to do anything else, I nodded. "As my sister so "nicely" pointed out, I am late for my appointment with the head of your school. What is the way to his office?"
"Front door, to the left," I said with a dry throat. "Password's "Tutti- Fruit"."
"Thank you," he beamed, then turned on his heel and dashed in the direction of the castle. "Hope to see you soon, Natalia."
With Luc's significant presence removed, could now think normally. And move. And breathe. "Wow, he is something," I sighed. "How much older is he than you?"
"Oo yearhs. Ee vill ve ay soventh 'ear dis 'ear," Fleur said mildly, then an impish grin formed on her effing perfect mouth. "So, oo I take eet dat my brodeere vill emprove your time at 'Ogwarts?"
"Oh, most definitely," I said. "Best Christmas present I've ever had." Then a horrible thought occurred to me. Not that it's necessarily a horrible way to be, but situation-wise not good for me. "He isn't, you know, is he?"
"Oo mean omosexualle?" Fleur asked. "Non, non, mais non. My brodeere ees de last boy oo would ve dat vay. Now vile I'm 'ere, is dere anyting else I can dew for oo?"
"Well, actually there is," I began, "and I think you might quite enjoy it. You see, my Quidditch captain, my male and straight and very attractive Quidditch captain, has been a bit out of sorts lately.."