Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, do you honestly think I'd be writing
fanfiction?
Title: More Good Times
Summery: There's another big test coming up, and what are our favorite
students doing? Rating: Let's go PG, just to be on the safe side..
A/N: This is a sequel to my earlier work "Anyone for a Game of Chess?" You
don't have to go read it now, but it'd be nice if you'd review
More A/N: Wow! I have a fan! This makes me so happy! ElizabethMM is my friend! Yayayayayayay! Sorry, it's finals week, and I'm rather hyper. Too much caffine. Anyways, ElizabethMM, no, I am not from Israel, nor do I fully understand your last review. Please explain! *is v. confused* But thanks for reviewing!
Chapter 6 (Wow! How long is this gonna be?)
Rose walked into the common room. The night before, she had hit the bed hard, but couldn't sleep. She was up all night, thinking about Harry, how his hair fell into his eyes, how his smile seemed to lift her spirits. Of course, this doesn't mean that she didn't berate herself for thinking like this. And then, the first thing she saw as she turned into the common room, in yoga pants, and old tee-shirt, her hair unwashed and in braids, her glasses still on because she didn't put in her contacts, of course just HAD to be Harry. 'Thank you, fates,' she thought bitterly as she pulled the Pooh Bear blanket closer to her. 'How is it that the one day that my head hurts, my hair looks like crap, and my glasses are still on I have to see my crush? Huh?' She found a chair near the nice, roaring fire, collapsed, and tried to avoid the stares of the other students. This was difficult, but Rose found it best to just stare into the fire. 'Maybe if I ignore them for long enough, they'll just go away,' she thought. A shadow fell across her vision. 'Then again, maybe not.'
Harry looked up to see Rose slink into the common room. Her hair was brushed back, but it looked like she didn't wash it, as was her usual American custom, and she was wearing glasses. All the same. 'Can't think like that!' he thought furiously. Ron looked over at him.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked, concern obvious in his voice. Harry shook his head.
"It's nothing, Ron. Just thinking some thoughts that don't need to be told," he said quietly. Ron smiled.
"Someone has a crush on the import," he said, an evil smile on his face. Harry's head snapped to stare at Ron.
"What?" he asked. Ron smiled broader.
"Oh, you heard me. You have a crush on the import."
"I do not!"
"Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt."
"But-"
"Look, it's so obvious, it's not even funny, ok? The way you were looking at her last night when she was dancing. Man, you like her. And you know it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"In my field of paper flowers, and candied globes of lullabies, I lie inside myself for hours, and watch my purple sky fly over me."
Harry watched from the sidelines. He never was much of a dancer. He liked watching other people having a good time, but he didn't really enjoy loud music or dark rooms. The only reason he was down here, really, was to please Rose. Rose cornered him in the common room after dinner.
"And you will be going to the dance, Harry. Because I want to dance with you." And then she sang a little song and moved a little to it, just to make Harry mad. It didn't work, but he pretended that it did. And now he was here. And she was dancing to some American band that was real big stuff across the pond, and looking good. Very, very good.
"Oh man, someone is staring at the import," a voice came from beside Harry. Harry jumped and turned to see Ron standing there, smiling up at him. Harry frowned.
"Import?" he asked, not wanting to look too ignorant. Ron smiled again.
"Her parents are American, she knows more about the stuff over there than here, she's an import. And someone I know, but will remain anonymous HARRY POTTER, likes the import idea."
"I do not!"
"Then why are you watching her dance like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like the key to your heart was in the movements of her pelvic girdle."
"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you do. And you'd better admit it fast, otherwise, she's going to run off with Seamus or Dean. They have been hitting on her a lot lately."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry stood and walked over to the chair that Rose now occupied. It was time for him to confront these feelings.
A/N: CLIFF-HANGER!!! Oh, I know you hate them, but come on. At least this is a kinda good one, right? Review, please! It makes me happy. Very happy. And you like making the author happy, right? (and they all nodded their heads.) Good. I'll put up more in a little bit. Let me pass my physics final first.
More A/N: Wow! I have a fan! This makes me so happy! ElizabethMM is my friend! Yayayayayayay! Sorry, it's finals week, and I'm rather hyper. Too much caffine. Anyways, ElizabethMM, no, I am not from Israel, nor do I fully understand your last review. Please explain! *is v. confused* But thanks for reviewing!
Chapter 6 (Wow! How long is this gonna be?)
Rose walked into the common room. The night before, she had hit the bed hard, but couldn't sleep. She was up all night, thinking about Harry, how his hair fell into his eyes, how his smile seemed to lift her spirits. Of course, this doesn't mean that she didn't berate herself for thinking like this. And then, the first thing she saw as she turned into the common room, in yoga pants, and old tee-shirt, her hair unwashed and in braids, her glasses still on because she didn't put in her contacts, of course just HAD to be Harry. 'Thank you, fates,' she thought bitterly as she pulled the Pooh Bear blanket closer to her. 'How is it that the one day that my head hurts, my hair looks like crap, and my glasses are still on I have to see my crush? Huh?' She found a chair near the nice, roaring fire, collapsed, and tried to avoid the stares of the other students. This was difficult, but Rose found it best to just stare into the fire. 'Maybe if I ignore them for long enough, they'll just go away,' she thought. A shadow fell across her vision. 'Then again, maybe not.'
Harry looked up to see Rose slink into the common room. Her hair was brushed back, but it looked like she didn't wash it, as was her usual American custom, and she was wearing glasses. All the same. 'Can't think like that!' he thought furiously. Ron looked over at him.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked, concern obvious in his voice. Harry shook his head.
"It's nothing, Ron. Just thinking some thoughts that don't need to be told," he said quietly. Ron smiled.
"Someone has a crush on the import," he said, an evil smile on his face. Harry's head snapped to stare at Ron.
"What?" he asked. Ron smiled broader.
"Oh, you heard me. You have a crush on the import."
"I do not!"
"Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt."
"But-"
"Look, it's so obvious, it's not even funny, ok? The way you were looking at her last night when she was dancing. Man, you like her. And you know it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"In my field of paper flowers, and candied globes of lullabies, I lie inside myself for hours, and watch my purple sky fly over me."
Harry watched from the sidelines. He never was much of a dancer. He liked watching other people having a good time, but he didn't really enjoy loud music or dark rooms. The only reason he was down here, really, was to please Rose. Rose cornered him in the common room after dinner.
"And you will be going to the dance, Harry. Because I want to dance with you." And then she sang a little song and moved a little to it, just to make Harry mad. It didn't work, but he pretended that it did. And now he was here. And she was dancing to some American band that was real big stuff across the pond, and looking good. Very, very good.
"Oh man, someone is staring at the import," a voice came from beside Harry. Harry jumped and turned to see Ron standing there, smiling up at him. Harry frowned.
"Import?" he asked, not wanting to look too ignorant. Ron smiled again.
"Her parents are American, she knows more about the stuff over there than here, she's an import. And someone I know, but will remain anonymous HARRY POTTER, likes the import idea."
"I do not!"
"Then why are you watching her dance like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like the key to your heart was in the movements of her pelvic girdle."
"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you do. And you'd better admit it fast, otherwise, she's going to run off with Seamus or Dean. They have been hitting on her a lot lately."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry stood and walked over to the chair that Rose now occupied. It was time for him to confront these feelings.
A/N: CLIFF-HANGER!!! Oh, I know you hate them, but come on. At least this is a kinda good one, right? Review, please! It makes me happy. Very happy. And you like making the author happy, right? (and they all nodded their heads.) Good. I'll put up more in a little bit. Let me pass my physics final first.