Chapter 3: Mashed Potatoes (grrrrr)
It turns out Tom had really meant it when he had said he was going to the library, so they ended up walking into the Great Hall for dinner together after studying. She was glad to have a break from the monotonous conversation - *he must feel like he's talking to a wall. A bit of food should shut him up*, she thought, slightly irritated. Jamie immediately felt guilty for thinking that - but she still meant it.
"Hufflepuff was well organized, but they were no comparison to our strategy. So, as I was saying, John Wilshire had just scored, so they were up by twenty. Meyers pulled into a dive, but I knew he was feinting because I could see the snitch on the other end of the pitch. Apparently, one of the Hufflepuff beaters had seen me go after it, and knocked a bludger my way. It was a good shot, of course, but I was quicker."
*And so on.*
Jamie sat with Tom at the Ravenclaw table. At a feast, she might not have been able to pull this off, but this was an every-day dinner in the Great Hall, and it was easily (and maybe even purposefully) overlooked by the Heads of Houses.
Jamie had her back to the Gryffindors, and was facing the Slytherins. She frowned inwardly. She'd rather not have to see them every time she looked up. But, all in all, she was grateful to be sitting where she was.
"So, when I was about seven, my brothers would take me out to play quidditch." *Obviously, the food hadn't gotten in the way of Tom's story.* "They were rough on me, of course, but I supposed that's how I got to be so good." He gave himself a proud smile and continued. What he said next, Jamie wasn't quite sure, for, by now, she was spacing out and beginning to let her mind drift over to the conversation behind her at the Gryffindor table. She couldn't help it - it was far more interesting than what Tom was saying.
"These potatoes are awful!" came Harry Potter's voice from behind her.
"Oh, stop complaining, they're not that bad." Ron said.
"Honestly, I can't eat any of it." Jamie heard him drop his spoon onto his plate. He obviously didn't like his mashed potatoes. Jamie took a taste of her own potatoes. *He's right, they are awful.*
Then Hermione's voice joined the conversation, "About a hundred enslaved house elves have spent probably hours preparing this food for you - the least you could do is enjoy it."
If an eye roll was audible, Jamie was sure she would have heard from both Ron and Harry.
Then silence.
"What, Ron?" Harry asked. More silence.
Meanwhile, Tom continued, "My dad always imagined me as a keeper. But when Chang graduated and I was made Ravenclaw seeker, he was happy all the same. I'm sure I would have made a good keeper." He was, of course, oblivious to the fact that Jamie wasn't listening.
"What is it, Ron?" Harry persisted suspiciously. Still no response from Ron. Hermione was giggling. Apparently, he had told her what was going on - and although Jamie had her back to them, in her mind, she could clearly see the spoon in Ron's hand.
"What is going on? And Ron, why are you grinning?"
Jamie had the sudden impulse to duck her head as if a nameless voice had whispered the command in her ear. And just in time, too. Evidently, the spoonful of mashed potatoes had narrowly missed Harry's head, flew over Jamie's ducked head, and hit Tom right square in the face. And right in the middle of his riveting story as well.
Ron's features turned from mischievous to mortified. " I-am-so-sorry." Ron said each word very slowly and thoroughly as if afraid that talking too fast might worsen the situation. He apparently abandoned this plan as he began to talk very rapidly, constantly stumbling over his words. Tom wiped his face.
"I'm terribly sorry. Big mis-mistake, I. I meant to hit Harry, but-"
"Hey!" Harry protested.
"No need to apologize," Tom said casually, brushing it aside with his potato-free hand. " I'm afraid I'll be the one apologizing after Ravenclaw crushes Gyffindor in the next quidditch match." The statement was ominous, but Tom's eyes were smiling and his mood was cheerful - of course as well as competitive. He was, after all, the Ravenclaw quidditch captain.
Ron smiled with relief. Now they were speaking the same language.
Dinner went surprisingly well after that. Tom and Jamie had joined the Gryffindor table, and once again, it went unnoticed by the staff. Tom and Ron talked the whole time about whatever they could think of that had to do with quidditch, and Jamie and Hermione discussed Transfiguration. Meanwhile, Harry ate his mashed potatoes in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~
The massive crowd of students was swarming towards the doors that led to the Entrance Hall. Jamie had no choice but to be herded along. Tom and Ron were somewhere behind her, still talking about bludgers and quaffles, and Hermione had somehow miraculously gotten past the multitude and to the library. Much to Jamie's content, the Slytherins were well out of taunting range - but she could only hold it off long enough until she got to the common room. Harry had caught up with her.
"I'm really sorry about what happened to your - er - friend," he said.
Jamie smiled casually, "Don't be. It's not your fault Ron missed your head," she said, grinning. Harry evidently didn't know how to respond to this, so Jamie went on, "Besides, the conversation was going nowhere - it certainly made things a lot more interesting."
Jamie couldn't help laughing at Harry's reaction. He was obviously torn between shock and amusement. Jamie, however, was surprised when Harry recovered so quickly.
His face broke into a grin, "Does that mean it's a good thing Ron has such an awful aim?"
"Let's just say you should be grateful he isn't a chaser for Gryffindor." When she said this, she frowned inwardly at the hypocrite she had just made of herself. Hadn't she just been complaining about Tom constantly talking about quidditch?
Fortunately, either Harry didn't notice, or he didn't know what made Tom so boring - because he continued to talk about the coming game. But this time, Jamie listened.
"It wouldn't matter if Ron was chaser, as long as Tom didn't get the snitch, and I'm sure that if-" Harry stopped short when Jamie halted right by a cold, dark stairway that led underground.
"What?" Harry said, clearly baffled.
"Oh, I stopped because I have to go this way, and I was going to say good bye once you finished your sentence." Jamie explained, purposefully leaving out *why* she had to go that way.
"Why? The Ravenclaw common room is on the second floor."
Jamie hesitated and wondered how Harry knew that, but decided to ask him later. She got right to the point. "Because I'm not in Ravenclaw, I'm in Slytherin."
Harry frowned, "But you always sit at the Ravenclaw table."
"Well, I'm sure you wouldn't want to eat with the Slytherins either if you had the choice."
"I guess not." Harry replied blankly, and watched her hair bounce as she ran down the stairs into the depths of the castle.
It turns out Tom had really meant it when he had said he was going to the library, so they ended up walking into the Great Hall for dinner together after studying. She was glad to have a break from the monotonous conversation - *he must feel like he's talking to a wall. A bit of food should shut him up*, she thought, slightly irritated. Jamie immediately felt guilty for thinking that - but she still meant it.
"Hufflepuff was well organized, but they were no comparison to our strategy. So, as I was saying, John Wilshire had just scored, so they were up by twenty. Meyers pulled into a dive, but I knew he was feinting because I could see the snitch on the other end of the pitch. Apparently, one of the Hufflepuff beaters had seen me go after it, and knocked a bludger my way. It was a good shot, of course, but I was quicker."
*And so on.*
Jamie sat with Tom at the Ravenclaw table. At a feast, she might not have been able to pull this off, but this was an every-day dinner in the Great Hall, and it was easily (and maybe even purposefully) overlooked by the Heads of Houses.
Jamie had her back to the Gryffindors, and was facing the Slytherins. She frowned inwardly. She'd rather not have to see them every time she looked up. But, all in all, she was grateful to be sitting where she was.
"So, when I was about seven, my brothers would take me out to play quidditch." *Obviously, the food hadn't gotten in the way of Tom's story.* "They were rough on me, of course, but I supposed that's how I got to be so good." He gave himself a proud smile and continued. What he said next, Jamie wasn't quite sure, for, by now, she was spacing out and beginning to let her mind drift over to the conversation behind her at the Gryffindor table. She couldn't help it - it was far more interesting than what Tom was saying.
"These potatoes are awful!" came Harry Potter's voice from behind her.
"Oh, stop complaining, they're not that bad." Ron said.
"Honestly, I can't eat any of it." Jamie heard him drop his spoon onto his plate. He obviously didn't like his mashed potatoes. Jamie took a taste of her own potatoes. *He's right, they are awful.*
Then Hermione's voice joined the conversation, "About a hundred enslaved house elves have spent probably hours preparing this food for you - the least you could do is enjoy it."
If an eye roll was audible, Jamie was sure she would have heard from both Ron and Harry.
Then silence.
"What, Ron?" Harry asked. More silence.
Meanwhile, Tom continued, "My dad always imagined me as a keeper. But when Chang graduated and I was made Ravenclaw seeker, he was happy all the same. I'm sure I would have made a good keeper." He was, of course, oblivious to the fact that Jamie wasn't listening.
"What is it, Ron?" Harry persisted suspiciously. Still no response from Ron. Hermione was giggling. Apparently, he had told her what was going on - and although Jamie had her back to them, in her mind, she could clearly see the spoon in Ron's hand.
"What is going on? And Ron, why are you grinning?"
Jamie had the sudden impulse to duck her head as if a nameless voice had whispered the command in her ear. And just in time, too. Evidently, the spoonful of mashed potatoes had narrowly missed Harry's head, flew over Jamie's ducked head, and hit Tom right square in the face. And right in the middle of his riveting story as well.
Ron's features turned from mischievous to mortified. " I-am-so-sorry." Ron said each word very slowly and thoroughly as if afraid that talking too fast might worsen the situation. He apparently abandoned this plan as he began to talk very rapidly, constantly stumbling over his words. Tom wiped his face.
"I'm terribly sorry. Big mis-mistake, I. I meant to hit Harry, but-"
"Hey!" Harry protested.
"No need to apologize," Tom said casually, brushing it aside with his potato-free hand. " I'm afraid I'll be the one apologizing after Ravenclaw crushes Gyffindor in the next quidditch match." The statement was ominous, but Tom's eyes were smiling and his mood was cheerful - of course as well as competitive. He was, after all, the Ravenclaw quidditch captain.
Ron smiled with relief. Now they were speaking the same language.
Dinner went surprisingly well after that. Tom and Jamie had joined the Gryffindor table, and once again, it went unnoticed by the staff. Tom and Ron talked the whole time about whatever they could think of that had to do with quidditch, and Jamie and Hermione discussed Transfiguration. Meanwhile, Harry ate his mashed potatoes in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~
The massive crowd of students was swarming towards the doors that led to the Entrance Hall. Jamie had no choice but to be herded along. Tom and Ron were somewhere behind her, still talking about bludgers and quaffles, and Hermione had somehow miraculously gotten past the multitude and to the library. Much to Jamie's content, the Slytherins were well out of taunting range - but she could only hold it off long enough until she got to the common room. Harry had caught up with her.
"I'm really sorry about what happened to your - er - friend," he said.
Jamie smiled casually, "Don't be. It's not your fault Ron missed your head," she said, grinning. Harry evidently didn't know how to respond to this, so Jamie went on, "Besides, the conversation was going nowhere - it certainly made things a lot more interesting."
Jamie couldn't help laughing at Harry's reaction. He was obviously torn between shock and amusement. Jamie, however, was surprised when Harry recovered so quickly.
His face broke into a grin, "Does that mean it's a good thing Ron has such an awful aim?"
"Let's just say you should be grateful he isn't a chaser for Gryffindor." When she said this, she frowned inwardly at the hypocrite she had just made of herself. Hadn't she just been complaining about Tom constantly talking about quidditch?
Fortunately, either Harry didn't notice, or he didn't know what made Tom so boring - because he continued to talk about the coming game. But this time, Jamie listened.
"It wouldn't matter if Ron was chaser, as long as Tom didn't get the snitch, and I'm sure that if-" Harry stopped short when Jamie halted right by a cold, dark stairway that led underground.
"What?" Harry said, clearly baffled.
"Oh, I stopped because I have to go this way, and I was going to say good bye once you finished your sentence." Jamie explained, purposefully leaving out *why* she had to go that way.
"Why? The Ravenclaw common room is on the second floor."
Jamie hesitated and wondered how Harry knew that, but decided to ask him later. She got right to the point. "Because I'm not in Ravenclaw, I'm in Slytherin."
Harry frowned, "But you always sit at the Ravenclaw table."
"Well, I'm sure you wouldn't want to eat with the Slytherins either if you had the choice."
"I guess not." Harry replied blankly, and watched her hair bounce as she ran down the stairs into the depths of the castle.