By the time we got to the Great Hall for lunch, there was almost
nowhere to sit at the Hufflepuff table. We had to run around a few times
looking for some empty seats. The only one we could find was next to Nona
Rotnoil, and both Fiona and I cringed at the idea. We looked up at the
professors, hoping that they would free up some other space, but alas, they
were too incarcerated with their meal.
Fiona hastily grabbed the seat next to Thomas Girelubber, leaving me with the task of sitting next to Nona.
I felt something at the nape of my neck when I sat down, and at first I thought it was Fiona reaching over and trying to tickle me. Woe is me, 'stead of being Fiona's hand, it was Nona breathing down my spine. I screamed a little too loudly and fell backwards over the bench. I looked up, and, incidentally, everyone was staring back at me. Okay, I wasn't really that surprised, but I was in a panic of what to say as the reason of my 'incident'.
I got up, brushed myself off in the most relaxed manner I could manage, and said, "I thought I saw a mouse scurry by on the table. It must have been my imagination, I apologize for causing a racket." Upon sitting back down, everyone had resumed his or her conversations and the noise in the hall was back at the 'high' level.
It had been quiet between Fiona and I for a few seconds too long, so I looked over to see what she was doing. She was just sitting there, staring at something out of the corner of her eye. "Fiona, what are you doing?" I whispered, as not to disturb her concentration too much.
"Look at all of those girls next to Oliver, he has about ten girls crowded around him!" She exclaimed softly.
"That's a nice way to burn my hopes about Oliver," I grumbled back at her, turning my gaze once again at my food.
"No, that wasn't the thing I wanted to bring attention to. If you look out of the corner of your eye, so that he doesn't notice you, you'll see what I'm talking about. Even though he has all of those girls around him, I haven't seen him take his gaze off of you for more than ten seconds!" Fiona said.
"See, that's a nice way to reinstate my hopes about Oliver!" I grinned and stuffed a piece of baked potato into my mouth, chewing on it happily. I finished chewing and looked up, only to see Oliver still looking at me from his seat at the Gryffindor table. He waved at me and grinned, confirming Fiona's theory. I waved back, already beaming.
I hadn't even relaxed by the time that lunch was done and tea was on the table. Fiona was holding the sugar container, ready to add some to our tea.
"How many spoons do you want, and which cup is yours?" She asked, as she did everyday, even though she knew quite well what my reply was going to be.
"Two spoons of sugar for that cup of tea," I said, pointing to a cup just on the right side of my plate. She added the sugar and I began to stir it, making sure it didn't just fall to the bottom of the cup.
I drank my tea slowly today, avoiding all eye contact with anyone but my tea. I had half expected to start talking to the tea, I had become so acquainted with looking at it.
"Fiona, what would a good name for a cup of tea be?" I asked.
"Robert. Robert the cup of tea. That sounds nice," she replied.
"Robert is a tad too formal, let's name him Bob."
"Bob?" asked Fiona with a disgusted look on her face, "Bob is such a, such a muggle-like name!"
"Yes, but muggle names are interesting, aren't they?" I said, half laughing as I said it, "Such as Dick. Dick is short for Richard in their world. All I want to know is, why would someone have a nickname after a 'how's your father'*!"
"Well, they have to walk all day instead of fly, what do you expect? I'm surprised their feet stay attached to their bodies!"
When we all finished our tea (or our Bobs, if you prefer) Fiona and I headed back to the common room for a free period. On the way out of the Great Hall, I looked over at Oliver again, and he was still looking at me, even when I had changed positions. We exchanged smiles and went our separate ways.
Fiona was still looking at me when we sat down on the chairs in the common room. "I cannot believe you Diona!" She squealed.
"Why? What did I do now that was so horrible?"
"You didn't talk to him! There was your perfect chance, and you didn't talk to him!"
"I can always talk to him tomorrow," I said, stating the obvious.
"Fine, but I'm not going to tell you when you should talk to him next time," she said.
"I'm quite sure I can figure it out for myself."
I lied back in my chair and resumed daydreaming, waiting until our free period was over.
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* how's your father: Let me put this simply, it is what they call a man's penis in British Lingo.
Fiona hastily grabbed the seat next to Thomas Girelubber, leaving me with the task of sitting next to Nona.
I felt something at the nape of my neck when I sat down, and at first I thought it was Fiona reaching over and trying to tickle me. Woe is me, 'stead of being Fiona's hand, it was Nona breathing down my spine. I screamed a little too loudly and fell backwards over the bench. I looked up, and, incidentally, everyone was staring back at me. Okay, I wasn't really that surprised, but I was in a panic of what to say as the reason of my 'incident'.
I got up, brushed myself off in the most relaxed manner I could manage, and said, "I thought I saw a mouse scurry by on the table. It must have been my imagination, I apologize for causing a racket." Upon sitting back down, everyone had resumed his or her conversations and the noise in the hall was back at the 'high' level.
It had been quiet between Fiona and I for a few seconds too long, so I looked over to see what she was doing. She was just sitting there, staring at something out of the corner of her eye. "Fiona, what are you doing?" I whispered, as not to disturb her concentration too much.
"Look at all of those girls next to Oliver, he has about ten girls crowded around him!" She exclaimed softly.
"That's a nice way to burn my hopes about Oliver," I grumbled back at her, turning my gaze once again at my food.
"No, that wasn't the thing I wanted to bring attention to. If you look out of the corner of your eye, so that he doesn't notice you, you'll see what I'm talking about. Even though he has all of those girls around him, I haven't seen him take his gaze off of you for more than ten seconds!" Fiona said.
"See, that's a nice way to reinstate my hopes about Oliver!" I grinned and stuffed a piece of baked potato into my mouth, chewing on it happily. I finished chewing and looked up, only to see Oliver still looking at me from his seat at the Gryffindor table. He waved at me and grinned, confirming Fiona's theory. I waved back, already beaming.
I hadn't even relaxed by the time that lunch was done and tea was on the table. Fiona was holding the sugar container, ready to add some to our tea.
"How many spoons do you want, and which cup is yours?" She asked, as she did everyday, even though she knew quite well what my reply was going to be.
"Two spoons of sugar for that cup of tea," I said, pointing to a cup just on the right side of my plate. She added the sugar and I began to stir it, making sure it didn't just fall to the bottom of the cup.
I drank my tea slowly today, avoiding all eye contact with anyone but my tea. I had half expected to start talking to the tea, I had become so acquainted with looking at it.
"Fiona, what would a good name for a cup of tea be?" I asked.
"Robert. Robert the cup of tea. That sounds nice," she replied.
"Robert is a tad too formal, let's name him Bob."
"Bob?" asked Fiona with a disgusted look on her face, "Bob is such a, such a muggle-like name!"
"Yes, but muggle names are interesting, aren't they?" I said, half laughing as I said it, "Such as Dick. Dick is short for Richard in their world. All I want to know is, why would someone have a nickname after a 'how's your father'*!"
"Well, they have to walk all day instead of fly, what do you expect? I'm surprised their feet stay attached to their bodies!"
When we all finished our tea (or our Bobs, if you prefer) Fiona and I headed back to the common room for a free period. On the way out of the Great Hall, I looked over at Oliver again, and he was still looking at me, even when I had changed positions. We exchanged smiles and went our separate ways.
Fiona was still looking at me when we sat down on the chairs in the common room. "I cannot believe you Diona!" She squealed.
"Why? What did I do now that was so horrible?"
"You didn't talk to him! There was your perfect chance, and you didn't talk to him!"
"I can always talk to him tomorrow," I said, stating the obvious.
"Fine, but I'm not going to tell you when you should talk to him next time," she said.
"I'm quite sure I can figure it out for myself."
I lied back in my chair and resumed daydreaming, waiting until our free period was over.
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* how's your father: Let me put this simply, it is what they call a man's penis in British Lingo.