a/n James Potter is a chaser. Rowling confirmed it in an interview that
you can still read on Scholastic's webpage. I don't care what the movie
says. It's wrong.
"I still can't believe that I have detention. This is so unfair! I've never gotten it before in my life. Now I'm never going to get a job in the Department of Magical Law because I don't have a clean record!" I tell Lily.
"Look, Ros I doubt that the Ministry will refuse to hire you because you got ONE detention because of ONE incident when you were seventeen," Lily counters, banging her hand on the table we were working on in the common room each time she say the word "one."
"But, Lily, you don't KNOW anyone who's applied for a job at the Ministry. There's this gigantic entrance exam, and magical competency text that makes the N.E.W.T.S. look like our first year," I explain, not too patiently. "My Uncle Frederick's the smartest person I know, and even he couldn't get a job there." I slam "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi" closed, then grab "Making Mandrake Magic," which I picked up this afternoon, and flick to a section about proper cooking instructions. It turns out that it's pretty easy to melt cauldrons with Mandrakes, which is why potions with them are so advanced, not to mention potent.
"Hey," Lily says as though struck by a sudden thought. "Do you remember Bertha Jorkins?"
"Is she the girl who graduated three years back, who ended up in the hospital wing when Snape hexed her after he found out she saw him kissing some girl behind the greenhouses?" I ask.
"Yep," Lily says with a laugh. "And Snape hasn't kissed anyone since he scared away poor Florence. In any case, I heard recently that Bertha got a job with the Ministry."
"Pardon?" Bertha? At the Ministry? Oh good God, what's happening to our government? I groan. "She must have known someone."
"ROSALIND!" A voice shrieks behind me. Winnie Frank pushes her way around the common room, which is empty as it's lunch hour, and runs toward Lily and me, bookstrap flailing. "I've heard!"
"Heard what Winnie?" I ask innocently.
"Well, I didn't see it HAPPEN but I overheard Sirius Black tell James Potter he was going to ask you to the dance at lunch today," Winnie gushes, "So congratulations, you must be thrilled!"
"Winnie, I turned Black down,"
"You did what? But he's -HIM- you can't just-" Winnie breaks off as she realizes the implications of what I have done, and shrieks all too loudly. "I LOVE YOU ROSALIND PERRY!" She throws her arms around me.
"Erm- Winnie?" I say softly, "I turned Black down because I despise him, not because I don't date men, which I DO."
"That's okay. I don't care if you hate him, he still might ask me now," Winnie says happily. Her arms are still wrapped around me.
"I meant for you to get off me," I hiss. Thankfully she does.
"Rosalind? Why did you turn down Sirius? Really? You can't possibly hate him as much as you say you do, do you?" Winnie asks.
"Well. to be honest, you can't hate anyone that much. But I did mean what I said after astronomy class about NOT wanting to go with him. Everyone knows he only asked me to the Noël Night because Potter asked Lily. And yesterday, I might have said "yes"- for Lily's sake. But not today, not after I'd found he'd gotten my favorite teacher in the entire world fired!" I explode. "And now there's that Pugsley witch, who's well. a witch! And it's all their fault! Why else would Professor McShane leave, he's been teaching here for the last forty or so years? He's a respected staff member. I should have known! I saw Black and Potter in Professor Dumbledore's office complaining about him when I was doing some prefect stuff. No influence my-"
"Look, Rosalind, you can't really blame them, can you?" Winnie says delicately.
I thrust my fist impatiently into "Making Mandrake Magic." "Did you not hear a word I said?"
I'll give Winnie credit for this: she may be one of the most annoying people I know, but she isn't thick. "Look, Rosalind, I'm just happy you told him 'no', and I'll leave it there. Is there anything I can do for you?"
I'm halfway between deciding whether I should say, "never talk to me again," or "murder Sirius Black," when Lily buts in. "You know, Winnie, when Rosalind told Sirius and the rest of the school that she'd rather go with a dementor than him, the whole of the Great Hall began to stare. Then we'd figured we'd leave lunch and come here. We didn't get to eat much of anything. Would you nip back up there and pick up some sandwiches and tea bags-if you can?"
Winnie nods, then runs toward the portrait hole. "Just don't get any corned beef. It's gross!" I call after her just before the tears begin to flow. I begin to take some notes on the fine art of mandrake slicing, while Lily does some thing I can't see with a piece of parchment. After a few minutes, she shows it to me. It's a picture of Professor Pugsley captioned "decorate."
Laughing hysterically I wipe the tears from my eyes and get out all my colored inks. I give Professor Pugsley two black eyes, facial hair and torn robes, break her jewelry, split her lip and add horns, a pitchfork and spiked tail as the finishing touches.
"Perfect," Lily says between sniggers. "Let's go mount it." I follow her up the spiral staircase to our deserted dormitory where she tacks it on the wall. We both burst out laughing.
"LILY? ROSALIND? WHERE ARE YOU?" bellows a voice from below.
"We're up here, Winnie!" Lily shouts down the stairs.
Winnie comes up carrying a plate of sandwiches, some tea bags and sugar. "That's ruddy brilliant," she says when she sees my artwork. "Just like her."
Lily takes the three tea bags, puts them each in a goblet, fills them with water from the jug under the window, and then heats the water to boil with a tap of her wand.
Winnie seems to be bouncing up and down as she practically dumps half the sugar bowl into her goblet. "You'll never guess, not in a million years, who Black asked to the Noël Night."
I get it in half a second.
"Isn't it GREAT?" Winnie gushes.
"He got over ME rather quickly," I say, biting into a sandwich that's thankfully not corned beef. "I told you he only asked me because of Lily."
"Hey, maybe Remus Lupin will ask you and it will be a triple date," Winnie suggests, gulping her tea.
"No, Winnie."
* * *
Now that Black has his date boys have been asking girls as if the dance was tomorrow and not three weeks away. At least Hagrid's bringing in the Christmas trees today. Veronica's become intolerable again, so Lily's made me another picture to "decorate," and now that one is hanging up with Professor Pugsley. She actually seems to think that I can be expelled for what I've "done to her." I'm not exactly sure what rules I've violated though. Every time I see her I want to scream "It's LILY! HE'S DATING LILY!" but I can't. She's always been there for me, especially in Potions, so I can't bear to hurt her anymore. She gets enough slack as it is from the Slytherins who know who Potter is REALLY dating. "Lily loves James and James loves Lily, She's so square and he's so silly," is just one of the mature verses that she gets pelted with ever since she and Potter had their "talk." I don't need to add to her problems.
A snowy owl drops a bright red envelope on the toast that I'm buttering. "I'm not opening that," I say to no one in particular after the letter sits there for a minute or two, untouched.
"Never got one of those before, have you, Perry?" Black says a few places down as smoke begins to pour from the letter. He hasn't been entirely nice to me since I turned him down in front of the school over two weeks ago.
"Of course not."
"Open it. It's for your own good," Black says.
"Why should I? It's probably from Veronica," I fold my arms across my chest.
"Why would she send YOU anything?" The letter begins to shake. Black hurtles himself on the table and reaches down, landing flat in several students' syrupy pancakes, a bowl of marmalade, and a plate of sausages, and knocks over a full jug of pumpkin juice, as he tears the letter open.
A huge explosion rocks the Great Hall. Now everyone is hearing how happy my mother is that I melted her cauldron. I duck under the table but everyone knows it's me as my mum keeps shouting ROSALIND PERRY every ten seconds. Smart of her, really.
"Thanks a lot, Black," I grumble. "You got your revenge, embarrassing ME in front of the whole of the Great Hall."
"Excuse me, Perry, but do you even KNOW what happens if you chose not to open a Howler? If I weren't eating here too, I would have let you find out," Black snaps. "So let me get this straight: I ruin my weekend clothes to help you, and this is how you thank me? You could have got the Howler a on uniform day." Black does have a small point: his muggle-style denim shirt now has a whole piece of toast stuck on it, and the entire thing is soaked and stained in pumpkin juice with spots of marmalade all over. The weekends are the only times we don't need to wear our robes. I'm not going to tell him that I agree though.
Black scoops up some marmalade off his shirt and flings it at me. It gets me square in the face.
"That was uncalled for," I hiss, wiping my face. At least nothing hits my angora sweater.
"You idiot. You're supposed to fling some catsup at me, hit James, and start a food fight," Black says.
"Too bad, Black," I turn on my heel and walk out of the Great Hall. Does he honestly think that I'm going to do what he wants?
"Hey Rosalind!" Lily shouts after me, carrying some toast. "Starting a diet?"
"Excuse me?" We step out into the Entrance Hall
"You've run out on two meals this month because of Sirius Black. You're going to lose some serious weight if you keep it up," Lily teases.
"That's not funny, Lily."
"Well, here's some toast, then. I need to send an owl, want to come?" Lily says.
"What for?" I say, mouth full of toast.
"I need to tell my mum and dad I'm not coming home for Christmas," Lily explains as we climb the marble staircase.
When we reach the owlry, we walk toward the north part of the tower to borrow a school owl for Lily. I don't come to the owlry much. It smells like all the dead mice and other rodents that owls hunt for, then leave to rot on the straw-covered floor.
"There aren't any owls left," Lily says. She's right. The only thing anywhere near an owl here are owl pellets. "They must be carrying messages from everyone who wants to stay over for the Noël Night and can't make it home." I think this is the first time that Lily won't be going home for the holidays. I've visited her house once. It's rather weird, but Lily loves it (despite her sister).
"Just use my owl, then," I say. My little brother in Hufflepuff and I both share an owl, Powell (Orlando named him, not me). Powell is more Orlando's than mine, but I can use him whenever I want.
"Thanks, Ros," Lily says. We head over to the south side of the owlry, where all the student-owned owls live to find Powell. Fortunately, he's there, waiting. I'm helping Lily tie the letter to Powell properly, when the owlry door opens. It's Veronica.
"Oh NO," I say. I don't need this.
"Just slip out of here," Lily hisses. I do. Veronica doesn't see me. Five minutes later, Lily joins me in the Entrance.
"What did she want?" I ask.
"Well," Lily says, "she doesn't have an owl of her own, so she's waiting for one to return. She wants to send something she called a- a Howler- is that right?" I look down. "Well?"
"You know what I got today at breakfast from my mum? That would be a Howler." Lily shudders. "I have a feeling I know who it's going to be going to, too." I add.
"You really should talk to James. Now." Lily's voice has a rare finality to it. "Let's go."
* * *
Potter has to be the most impossible person to find in the entire school. Lily and I have checked the library, the Great Hall, the Gryffindor common room, classes of various teachers on his schedule, Hagrid's and then gone all about the corridors.
"This is getting ridiculous," I say, as I flop down into an armchair in the common room, frozen from almost an hour of relentless searching.
"What's ridiculous, Rosalind?" A voice says from behind me. It's Winnie, playing gobstones with Betty the sixth year.
"I can't find Potter anywhere, and I've looked everywhere," I explain.
"Did you check the library?"
"Yes."
"The Great Hall?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Yes." Winnie proceeds to name everywhere that I've already checked.
"Hmmmm. How about the quidditch pitch?" She says finally.
"The QUIDDITCH pitch? It's December! The next game isn't for months. It's too cold and I'm near a fire!" I exclaim.
"Well, Potter's just like that I guess. I found him out there when I went to the locker room to pick up a book I left there once. He never seems to stop practicing at all, even during the winter off-season. He stays longer than we do, and that's saying something," Winnie explains. I always forget she's on Gryffindor quidditch team. It's because Winnie never talks about it constantly or brags about it like Potter does. She's a really tough up there in the sky, as she's a beater, but on the ground, she's the prissiest girl I know. "He wants to win the cup more than anything this year. I do too, but for Potter it's an obsession. He needs to beat Snape for the cup one last time. You'd think that-"
"Thanks, Winnie," I say. That's enough of quidditch talk for me.
* * *
Lily, who's as cold as I am, flatly refuses to go outside and walk all the way across the grounds to the pitch. So I walk alone, freezing, hoping against hope that Potter is still out there and my trip wasn't entirely in vain. Winnie does turn out to be right about Potter and practicing, because as I enter the stadium, I watch Potter score a goal from well outside the scoring area, then Summon the quaffle back into his gloved hands, an impressive move.
"OY!" I shout.
Potter's cloaked body turns to look back at me, and then speeds towards the pitch at an alarming rate until Potter stops the broom at about ten feet up and looks down at me. His cheeks are a swollen red color. "Per- Rosalind? What're you doing here?"
"We need to talk," I say as the steam rises from my breath, then vanishes into thin air.
"Erm- sure. But let's go into the locker rooms. It's cold out here." Potter touches down on the snow-covered ground and dismounts his Cleansweep.
"You just now noticed that it's cold?" I say incredulously.
Ignoring me, Potter opens the door to the locker rooms and gestures me inside. The Gryffindor locker room isn't the most homey place. There are some benches, an easel for holding diagrams and stuff, showers, toilets and private places to change. Typical locker room furnishings. Everything is old and wooden, and the air has a dank, moldy feel to it. Potter picks up a rusted iron cauldron and lights a fire with his wand.
"So, Rosalind, what can I do for you?" He asks, sitting down on a bench.
"I've been having problems with Veronica," I say. Potter takes a deep breath and Hagrid's words come back to me: "There aren't too many people who have a heart when dealing with people they don' like."
"What sort of problems?" All of a sudden, I feel rather stupid talking to Potter like this.
"I. well- she thinks I'm Lily, and that I've stolen you from her, and she's been harassing me," I blurt out.
"Slow down there," Potter says with a laugh, but a laugh that does not seem menacing at all. "So, Veronica thinks you're Lily, and that you're the reason that I am not dating her anymore, and likewise has taken out on you?"
I nod. "Not to mention that she's stolen my most favorite possessions, this action figure that I got at the World Cup. She's also going to send me a howler"
Potter sighs deeply. "Oh dear, I'll have to talk to her."
"So what I do about all this?" I say.
"Just. go about your business. Do your homework, play gobstones, rat on people - on second though, DON'T rat on people. I'll take care of everything."
"Erm-thanks."
Author's Notes (and apologies):
Sorry for the delay, but I did try to write this as quickly and well as I could. (I literally wrote the last one in day and I think that it shows). I originally was planning to add another, important scene in this chapter (aka putting the L/J back in the L/J fic), but it's going to take me several more days, considering work and summer assignments that I have neglecting all summer long. Besides this chapter is extra long as it is, and if I took the extra days you all would have found my house and hacked into my computer.
Okay, on to important stuff. At least half of you are ready to murder me for Rosalind saying "no" to poor Sirius. He DID only ask Rosalind because of James. In all honesty, I didn't originally plan on Sirius asking Rosalind at all, as the true antagonist in this story is Rosalind herself. I've tried very hard to keep Rosalind as far away as possible from the Mary Sue syndrome and self-insertion (guilty in parts), and double dating would just about toss her over the edge. Besides, her SUDDENLY liking Sirius, is out of character for someone who has been annoyed with Sirius for the past 6 ½ or so years, and is ripping mad at him.
Another, weirder note, is that I stole the picture decorating idea from my life. After an incident that I will not bore you with, I was crying my eyes out in the middle of math class. My friend Raewyn passed me notes the whole time and then a hand drawn picture of the offending student labeled "decorate." It really made me feel better, and it's a tribute to the brilliant Raewyn.
"I still can't believe that I have detention. This is so unfair! I've never gotten it before in my life. Now I'm never going to get a job in the Department of Magical Law because I don't have a clean record!" I tell Lily.
"Look, Ros I doubt that the Ministry will refuse to hire you because you got ONE detention because of ONE incident when you were seventeen," Lily counters, banging her hand on the table we were working on in the common room each time she say the word "one."
"But, Lily, you don't KNOW anyone who's applied for a job at the Ministry. There's this gigantic entrance exam, and magical competency text that makes the N.E.W.T.S. look like our first year," I explain, not too patiently. "My Uncle Frederick's the smartest person I know, and even he couldn't get a job there." I slam "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi" closed, then grab "Making Mandrake Magic," which I picked up this afternoon, and flick to a section about proper cooking instructions. It turns out that it's pretty easy to melt cauldrons with Mandrakes, which is why potions with them are so advanced, not to mention potent.
"Hey," Lily says as though struck by a sudden thought. "Do you remember Bertha Jorkins?"
"Is she the girl who graduated three years back, who ended up in the hospital wing when Snape hexed her after he found out she saw him kissing some girl behind the greenhouses?" I ask.
"Yep," Lily says with a laugh. "And Snape hasn't kissed anyone since he scared away poor Florence. In any case, I heard recently that Bertha got a job with the Ministry."
"Pardon?" Bertha? At the Ministry? Oh good God, what's happening to our government? I groan. "She must have known someone."
"ROSALIND!" A voice shrieks behind me. Winnie Frank pushes her way around the common room, which is empty as it's lunch hour, and runs toward Lily and me, bookstrap flailing. "I've heard!"
"Heard what Winnie?" I ask innocently.
"Well, I didn't see it HAPPEN but I overheard Sirius Black tell James Potter he was going to ask you to the dance at lunch today," Winnie gushes, "So congratulations, you must be thrilled!"
"Winnie, I turned Black down,"
"You did what? But he's -HIM- you can't just-" Winnie breaks off as she realizes the implications of what I have done, and shrieks all too loudly. "I LOVE YOU ROSALIND PERRY!" She throws her arms around me.
"Erm- Winnie?" I say softly, "I turned Black down because I despise him, not because I don't date men, which I DO."
"That's okay. I don't care if you hate him, he still might ask me now," Winnie says happily. Her arms are still wrapped around me.
"I meant for you to get off me," I hiss. Thankfully she does.
"Rosalind? Why did you turn down Sirius? Really? You can't possibly hate him as much as you say you do, do you?" Winnie asks.
"Well. to be honest, you can't hate anyone that much. But I did mean what I said after astronomy class about NOT wanting to go with him. Everyone knows he only asked me to the Noël Night because Potter asked Lily. And yesterday, I might have said "yes"- for Lily's sake. But not today, not after I'd found he'd gotten my favorite teacher in the entire world fired!" I explode. "And now there's that Pugsley witch, who's well. a witch! And it's all their fault! Why else would Professor McShane leave, he's been teaching here for the last forty or so years? He's a respected staff member. I should have known! I saw Black and Potter in Professor Dumbledore's office complaining about him when I was doing some prefect stuff. No influence my-"
"Look, Rosalind, you can't really blame them, can you?" Winnie says delicately.
I thrust my fist impatiently into "Making Mandrake Magic." "Did you not hear a word I said?"
I'll give Winnie credit for this: she may be one of the most annoying people I know, but she isn't thick. "Look, Rosalind, I'm just happy you told him 'no', and I'll leave it there. Is there anything I can do for you?"
I'm halfway between deciding whether I should say, "never talk to me again," or "murder Sirius Black," when Lily buts in. "You know, Winnie, when Rosalind told Sirius and the rest of the school that she'd rather go with a dementor than him, the whole of the Great Hall began to stare. Then we'd figured we'd leave lunch and come here. We didn't get to eat much of anything. Would you nip back up there and pick up some sandwiches and tea bags-if you can?"
Winnie nods, then runs toward the portrait hole. "Just don't get any corned beef. It's gross!" I call after her just before the tears begin to flow. I begin to take some notes on the fine art of mandrake slicing, while Lily does some thing I can't see with a piece of parchment. After a few minutes, she shows it to me. It's a picture of Professor Pugsley captioned "decorate."
Laughing hysterically I wipe the tears from my eyes and get out all my colored inks. I give Professor Pugsley two black eyes, facial hair and torn robes, break her jewelry, split her lip and add horns, a pitchfork and spiked tail as the finishing touches.
"Perfect," Lily says between sniggers. "Let's go mount it." I follow her up the spiral staircase to our deserted dormitory where she tacks it on the wall. We both burst out laughing.
"LILY? ROSALIND? WHERE ARE YOU?" bellows a voice from below.
"We're up here, Winnie!" Lily shouts down the stairs.
Winnie comes up carrying a plate of sandwiches, some tea bags and sugar. "That's ruddy brilliant," she says when she sees my artwork. "Just like her."
Lily takes the three tea bags, puts them each in a goblet, fills them with water from the jug under the window, and then heats the water to boil with a tap of her wand.
Winnie seems to be bouncing up and down as she practically dumps half the sugar bowl into her goblet. "You'll never guess, not in a million years, who Black asked to the Noël Night."
I get it in half a second.
"Isn't it GREAT?" Winnie gushes.
"He got over ME rather quickly," I say, biting into a sandwich that's thankfully not corned beef. "I told you he only asked me because of Lily."
"Hey, maybe Remus Lupin will ask you and it will be a triple date," Winnie suggests, gulping her tea.
"No, Winnie."
* * *
Now that Black has his date boys have been asking girls as if the dance was tomorrow and not three weeks away. At least Hagrid's bringing in the Christmas trees today. Veronica's become intolerable again, so Lily's made me another picture to "decorate," and now that one is hanging up with Professor Pugsley. She actually seems to think that I can be expelled for what I've "done to her." I'm not exactly sure what rules I've violated though. Every time I see her I want to scream "It's LILY! HE'S DATING LILY!" but I can't. She's always been there for me, especially in Potions, so I can't bear to hurt her anymore. She gets enough slack as it is from the Slytherins who know who Potter is REALLY dating. "Lily loves James and James loves Lily, She's so square and he's so silly," is just one of the mature verses that she gets pelted with ever since she and Potter had their "talk." I don't need to add to her problems.
A snowy owl drops a bright red envelope on the toast that I'm buttering. "I'm not opening that," I say to no one in particular after the letter sits there for a minute or two, untouched.
"Never got one of those before, have you, Perry?" Black says a few places down as smoke begins to pour from the letter. He hasn't been entirely nice to me since I turned him down in front of the school over two weeks ago.
"Of course not."
"Open it. It's for your own good," Black says.
"Why should I? It's probably from Veronica," I fold my arms across my chest.
"Why would she send YOU anything?" The letter begins to shake. Black hurtles himself on the table and reaches down, landing flat in several students' syrupy pancakes, a bowl of marmalade, and a plate of sausages, and knocks over a full jug of pumpkin juice, as he tears the letter open.
A huge explosion rocks the Great Hall. Now everyone is hearing how happy my mother is that I melted her cauldron. I duck under the table but everyone knows it's me as my mum keeps shouting ROSALIND PERRY every ten seconds. Smart of her, really.
"Thanks a lot, Black," I grumble. "You got your revenge, embarrassing ME in front of the whole of the Great Hall."
"Excuse me, Perry, but do you even KNOW what happens if you chose not to open a Howler? If I weren't eating here too, I would have let you find out," Black snaps. "So let me get this straight: I ruin my weekend clothes to help you, and this is how you thank me? You could have got the Howler a on uniform day." Black does have a small point: his muggle-style denim shirt now has a whole piece of toast stuck on it, and the entire thing is soaked and stained in pumpkin juice with spots of marmalade all over. The weekends are the only times we don't need to wear our robes. I'm not going to tell him that I agree though.
Black scoops up some marmalade off his shirt and flings it at me. It gets me square in the face.
"That was uncalled for," I hiss, wiping my face. At least nothing hits my angora sweater.
"You idiot. You're supposed to fling some catsup at me, hit James, and start a food fight," Black says.
"Too bad, Black," I turn on my heel and walk out of the Great Hall. Does he honestly think that I'm going to do what he wants?
"Hey Rosalind!" Lily shouts after me, carrying some toast. "Starting a diet?"
"Excuse me?" We step out into the Entrance Hall
"You've run out on two meals this month because of Sirius Black. You're going to lose some serious weight if you keep it up," Lily teases.
"That's not funny, Lily."
"Well, here's some toast, then. I need to send an owl, want to come?" Lily says.
"What for?" I say, mouth full of toast.
"I need to tell my mum and dad I'm not coming home for Christmas," Lily explains as we climb the marble staircase.
When we reach the owlry, we walk toward the north part of the tower to borrow a school owl for Lily. I don't come to the owlry much. It smells like all the dead mice and other rodents that owls hunt for, then leave to rot on the straw-covered floor.
"There aren't any owls left," Lily says. She's right. The only thing anywhere near an owl here are owl pellets. "They must be carrying messages from everyone who wants to stay over for the Noël Night and can't make it home." I think this is the first time that Lily won't be going home for the holidays. I've visited her house once. It's rather weird, but Lily loves it (despite her sister).
"Just use my owl, then," I say. My little brother in Hufflepuff and I both share an owl, Powell (Orlando named him, not me). Powell is more Orlando's than mine, but I can use him whenever I want.
"Thanks, Ros," Lily says. We head over to the south side of the owlry, where all the student-owned owls live to find Powell. Fortunately, he's there, waiting. I'm helping Lily tie the letter to Powell properly, when the owlry door opens. It's Veronica.
"Oh NO," I say. I don't need this.
"Just slip out of here," Lily hisses. I do. Veronica doesn't see me. Five minutes later, Lily joins me in the Entrance.
"What did she want?" I ask.
"Well," Lily says, "she doesn't have an owl of her own, so she's waiting for one to return. She wants to send something she called a- a Howler- is that right?" I look down. "Well?"
"You know what I got today at breakfast from my mum? That would be a Howler." Lily shudders. "I have a feeling I know who it's going to be going to, too." I add.
"You really should talk to James. Now." Lily's voice has a rare finality to it. "Let's go."
* * *
Potter has to be the most impossible person to find in the entire school. Lily and I have checked the library, the Great Hall, the Gryffindor common room, classes of various teachers on his schedule, Hagrid's and then gone all about the corridors.
"This is getting ridiculous," I say, as I flop down into an armchair in the common room, frozen from almost an hour of relentless searching.
"What's ridiculous, Rosalind?" A voice says from behind me. It's Winnie, playing gobstones with Betty the sixth year.
"I can't find Potter anywhere, and I've looked everywhere," I explain.
"Did you check the library?"
"Yes."
"The Great Hall?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Yes." Winnie proceeds to name everywhere that I've already checked.
"Hmmmm. How about the quidditch pitch?" She says finally.
"The QUIDDITCH pitch? It's December! The next game isn't for months. It's too cold and I'm near a fire!" I exclaim.
"Well, Potter's just like that I guess. I found him out there when I went to the locker room to pick up a book I left there once. He never seems to stop practicing at all, even during the winter off-season. He stays longer than we do, and that's saying something," Winnie explains. I always forget she's on Gryffindor quidditch team. It's because Winnie never talks about it constantly or brags about it like Potter does. She's a really tough up there in the sky, as she's a beater, but on the ground, she's the prissiest girl I know. "He wants to win the cup more than anything this year. I do too, but for Potter it's an obsession. He needs to beat Snape for the cup one last time. You'd think that-"
"Thanks, Winnie," I say. That's enough of quidditch talk for me.
* * *
Lily, who's as cold as I am, flatly refuses to go outside and walk all the way across the grounds to the pitch. So I walk alone, freezing, hoping against hope that Potter is still out there and my trip wasn't entirely in vain. Winnie does turn out to be right about Potter and practicing, because as I enter the stadium, I watch Potter score a goal from well outside the scoring area, then Summon the quaffle back into his gloved hands, an impressive move.
"OY!" I shout.
Potter's cloaked body turns to look back at me, and then speeds towards the pitch at an alarming rate until Potter stops the broom at about ten feet up and looks down at me. His cheeks are a swollen red color. "Per- Rosalind? What're you doing here?"
"We need to talk," I say as the steam rises from my breath, then vanishes into thin air.
"Erm- sure. But let's go into the locker rooms. It's cold out here." Potter touches down on the snow-covered ground and dismounts his Cleansweep.
"You just now noticed that it's cold?" I say incredulously.
Ignoring me, Potter opens the door to the locker rooms and gestures me inside. The Gryffindor locker room isn't the most homey place. There are some benches, an easel for holding diagrams and stuff, showers, toilets and private places to change. Typical locker room furnishings. Everything is old and wooden, and the air has a dank, moldy feel to it. Potter picks up a rusted iron cauldron and lights a fire with his wand.
"So, Rosalind, what can I do for you?" He asks, sitting down on a bench.
"I've been having problems with Veronica," I say. Potter takes a deep breath and Hagrid's words come back to me: "There aren't too many people who have a heart when dealing with people they don' like."
"What sort of problems?" All of a sudden, I feel rather stupid talking to Potter like this.
"I. well- she thinks I'm Lily, and that I've stolen you from her, and she's been harassing me," I blurt out.
"Slow down there," Potter says with a laugh, but a laugh that does not seem menacing at all. "So, Veronica thinks you're Lily, and that you're the reason that I am not dating her anymore, and likewise has taken out on you?"
I nod. "Not to mention that she's stolen my most favorite possessions, this action figure that I got at the World Cup. She's also going to send me a howler"
Potter sighs deeply. "Oh dear, I'll have to talk to her."
"So what I do about all this?" I say.
"Just. go about your business. Do your homework, play gobstones, rat on people - on second though, DON'T rat on people. I'll take care of everything."
"Erm-thanks."
Author's Notes (and apologies):
Sorry for the delay, but I did try to write this as quickly and well as I could. (I literally wrote the last one in day and I think that it shows). I originally was planning to add another, important scene in this chapter (aka putting the L/J back in the L/J fic), but it's going to take me several more days, considering work and summer assignments that I have neglecting all summer long. Besides this chapter is extra long as it is, and if I took the extra days you all would have found my house and hacked into my computer.
Okay, on to important stuff. At least half of you are ready to murder me for Rosalind saying "no" to poor Sirius. He DID only ask Rosalind because of James. In all honesty, I didn't originally plan on Sirius asking Rosalind at all, as the true antagonist in this story is Rosalind herself. I've tried very hard to keep Rosalind as far away as possible from the Mary Sue syndrome and self-insertion (guilty in parts), and double dating would just about toss her over the edge. Besides, her SUDDENLY liking Sirius, is out of character for someone who has been annoyed with Sirius for the past 6 ½ or so years, and is ripping mad at him.
Another, weirder note, is that I stole the picture decorating idea from my life. After an incident that I will not bore you with, I was crying my eyes out in the middle of math class. My friend Raewyn passed me notes the whole time and then a hand drawn picture of the offending student labeled "decorate." It really made me feel better, and it's a tribute to the brilliant Raewyn.
