Fixing To Fly
Chapter Fifteen
Author's Note: It is Thursday evening (9:54 Ohio time) and as promised, here is Chapter Fifteen. Tomorrow is my last day of exams, and I have a three-day weekend ahead of me, so Sixteen and Seventeen should be short in following. Guess what? Fixing to Fly is up to 66 reviews!! Yay, I'm so happy! Of course, I owe it all to you, my wonderful readers and reviewers. Without your support, I don't think this fic would be half as good as it is. You all drive me to write my best for you! My eternal thanks go out to you all.
I won't take up much more of your time here, so you can get to the much-awaited Fifteen, but one quick side note: Darcy's costume ideas were inspired by a particular piece of HP fan art I found on the Monthly Harry Potter Fan Art Challenge website. You can see it for yourself at this address: http://www.floo.nu/hpmonthly/nov02/starlette.jpg Just substitute Ginny and Draco for Darcy and… well, I won't tell you that quite yet. It'll ruin the upcoming fun. ;)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
September leaked into October, and life went back to a surprisingly pleasant norm for Darcy. Kotter was true to his word, and treating her like a princess, save the occasional disapproving scowl when she spent a little too much time with Oliver. Her relationship with the fourth-year also improved, their bond deepening in light of his honesty and selflessness. Even Snape was treating her with something akin to tolerance since her show of backbone with Kotter on the Quidditch field. Impossible as it seemed, her world was nearly perfect.
A chilly Tuesday morning the second week of October brought exciting news to the school. As a Prefect, Darcy had known of the announcement in advance, but watching her friends' reactions to Dumbledore's words delighted her nonetheless.
"If I may have your attention for a brief moment before we begin our meal," said the headmaster, rising to his feet at the front table. Three-hundred-some pairs of eyes focused instantly upon him, a palpable sensation of curiosity filling the Great Hall. "I have two very important items to address this morning, and if you will be so kind as to spare this time to listen, I don't think you shall be disappointed."
A pin drop would have seemed obscenely loud, had it fallen in the room at that moment.
"First, I know you are all aware of the Yule Ball that will be held in December. But, in addition to this event, I am delighted to inform you that a Halloween Masquerade Ball will also be held, on October the thirty-first." A tittering ripple of conversation broke out along the tables, and was quickly silenced by a single raised hand of Dumbledore. "The only requirement for this event is that all those who choose to attend come in costume. This ball is open to all years of students, and as the thirty-first is a Thursday, and the ball is likely to go late into the night, your Friday classes will be cancelled."
Several startled looks surfaced among the occupants of the teachers' tables, and even Darcy was surprised; they had not covered this option during the Prefect meetings.
Like a much revered and honored king holding court, Dumbledore continued his statement. "The second item at hand is, in fact, directly related to the first. Since this is to be a costume ball, it will of course be necessary for you to obtain materials to create costumes, so I am equally pleased to announce that this coming Saturday shall be the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. I will also be extending this special privilege to first and second-year students for this trip only, to encourage you all to join in the festivities of the Masquerade Ball. Thank you for your time." He completed his speech with a graceful low bow, then sat back down.
Breakfast was an especially boisterous event that morning, and Darcy had to endure extensive teasing from Keely for not spilling to her the secret of the Masquerade Ball.
"I was sworn to secrecy," the blonde upheld for a sixth time, laughing as she stuffed a bite of blueberry pancake into her mouth. "It would have ruined the surprise, if I'd told you." Keely opened her mouth to complain again, but Toby shoved a muffin between her teeth before she could form words. Darcy laughed again, and now considered the two male Gryffindors seated on either side of her. Oliver and Kotter had fallen into the habit of sandwiching her during meals. "So what do my two protectors think?"
"I think I better start considering a costume," replied the Keeper with enthusiasm, flashing a grin at the girl. "What about you? Any ideas?"
She smirked. "Actually, as I've had since the beginning of the school year to think about this, I came up with the perfect costumes for me and my date: devil and angel. Haven't decided which I should go as yet—no comments from you prats, thank you!" She cut off the responses of Oliver, Brian, and Keely, all of whom had wicked smiles on their faces, and instead turned to Kotter. "What do you think? You want to be a devil or an angel?"
But the Chaser was frowning, and didn't meet her gaze as he muttered, "I don't care. Why do we have to go anyway? I don't really want to…"
"Oh, come on!" Darcy protested, feeling a fountain of annoyance spring up within her. "Don't be that way, Kotter. It'll be so much fun!" She tugged playfully on the sleeve of his robe. "Come on, don't disappoint your beautiful girlfriend. Tell you what, I'll even let you be the devil, since I've got the angelic blonde hair thing going already. What do you say?"
"I'll think about it," he grumbled, but was looking at her with irritation in his gaze, and the girl got a sudden bad feeling in the back of her mind. She chose to let the issue go.
"Okay. Just let me know," she said, turning away from her boyfriend with a troubled look. She found Oliver staring carefully between the couple, a suspicious look on his own features, as if he now questioned even his own previous judgement of Kotter, perhaps wondering if the act was starting to wear off. Before the issue could weigh too heavily on either of their hearts, she quickly asked him, "So, Ollie, who do you think you'll go with to the ball?"
He laughed, and sent a secret look meant only for her. "Well, I'll probably just go by myself, since there's nobody I'm really interested in right now…"
Raising a playful eyebrow with the sleek smile of a conspirator on her face, she replied, "Ahh, doing the aloof, unattainable bachelor routine. Very mysterious and very sexy. Unless of course you're Brian, and then the routine comes out desperate and pathetic…" Her sapphire eyes glittered as she beamed across the table at the Beater, who was giving her in return a dagger-filled glare. Coyly she mused, "Oh, did I say that out loud?"
Brian brandished a butter knife at her. "Just remember, I know where you sleep."
Laughing, Darcy started to reply when the flutter of wings from above drew the attention of the group: the morning mail had arrived. As hundreds of owls of all shape, size, color, and breed filled the air, the students raised their gazes above, each in search of his or her own particular messenger. The Gryffindor Prefect soon spotted Manhattan, the barn owl swooping low with a small parcel and several letters clutched between his talons. She reached up to intercept the mail—and was promptly knocked in the head with her package, the small box wrapped in brown parchment bouncing off her forehead and landing on her plate while her letters were strewn elsewhere. Darcy glared up at the retreating owl, who gave her a reproachful screech in return before disappearing again through the high windows of the Great Hall.
Kotter and Brian were stifling snorts of laughter while Oliver stared perplexedly at the blonde. "What was that about?" he demanded, fighting a snicker himself.
"Ohh, he brought a dead mouse into the dorm last night and I threw it back out the window. He's mad at me now," she explained, rubbing tentatively at the welt forming on her brow. "I'll save him something nice from dinner tonight; that should cool him off a bit." She shrugged and gathered her scattered mail. "No matter. Let's see what the little prat brought me."
The package was one she'd been expecting. Over a week ago, she'd written home to her parents in request they visit Gringotts for her and draw some extra money out of her vault for the upcoming holidays. In truth, she was surprised they'd responded so quickly; her father, an Auror, was constantly busy at the Ministry of Magic and her mother the habitual procrastinator usually forgot to even read the mail until a month after its arrival. But then she read over the attached note, and her confusion was resolved—her brother Jaime was home for the week and had run the errand for her. She made a mental note to write him before the week was out.
She then opened the additional three letters, one by one, with Oliver peeking over her shoulder. "Marcus Flint!" the fourth-year gasped in shock when he caught sight of the signature at the bottom of one page. "What is he doing writing to you?"
"He's a Quidditch captain; these are all from the other Quidditch captains," she explained, indicating the other letters. "I wrote them all yesterday to see if any of them were interested in doing a scrimmage against us on Sunday afternoon."
Quickly she read over the notes, and found affirmative responses from all three captains, even Flint. But the Slytherin captain's letter contained one condition: that she keep the Weasley twins away from the Slytherin common room in the future. Apparently, Flint was still a little bitter about the whole dungbombs incident.
Of the three, Darcy decided to accept the offer of Evan Rockford, captain of the Ravenclaw team. They were perhaps the weakest team at Hogwarts this year, judging by their performance at the practice she'd spied in on. She'd give her own team a little practice and an easy morale booster against Ravenclaw before subjecting them to the more skillful Hufflepuffs and the fiercely aggressive Slytherins.
Excusing herself from her table, she quickly traveled around to the other Quidditch captains and informed them of her choice, cementing a two o'clock date with the Ravenclaw team and politely thanking both the Hufflepuff captain and Marcus Flint for their replies.
"What's wrong, Reed, afraid your team can't handle us?" sneered the Slytherin when she approached him.
She regarded him with thinly veiled disgust. "Hardly. I just don't particularly care to deal with your beastly team's cheating with no refs present to regulate. Don't get your boxers in a knot, Flint, we'll beat the crap out of your team soon enough when the season starts," she replied and drew herself up proudly, letting him get a good look at her curvaceous body.
Shooting a quick look at the Gryffindor table across the room, Flint mused, "So are you still going with that stupid git Baines, or did you finally get some brains about you?"
She laughed cynically, hands set on her lithe hips. "Don't tell me you're interested in me, Marcus? Because, baby, I would tear you apart."
The Slytherin grinned, giving her a disturbingly clear view of his crooked and gapped teeth, as he replied in a low voice, "Is that an offer?"
Darcy's expression was not amused. "I'll see you on the Quidditch pitch, Flint." She turned sharply on heel and started away, when an afterthought hit her, and she called over her shoulder, "Oh, and better watch your head… for Bludgers, you know. Tricky little bastards, those." She shot him her most smug smile and glided back across the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, her head held high in confidence as she lived up to the Quidditch Queen she was.
* * *
Brilliant white October sunlight warmed the grounds of Hogwarts on Saturday afternoon, providing a pleasantly temperate atmosphere for the year's first visit to Hogsmeade. Dressed in a sky blue button-down shirt and black capris—her 'muggle' clothes, as she thought of them—Darcy found herself strolling down the Main Street of the quaint little town as her fellow schoolmates ran gleefully around her. They'd rode to Hogsmeade together in the same carriage, she, Oliver, Kotter, Toby, Loren, Keely, and Brian, but now that they'd all arrived, the diversities of their tight-knit group began to show.
"I want to hit The Chaser's Lair, see what new broomsticks they've got in this year," Toby said instantly, glancing off in the direction of the Quidditch shop. "Plus I'm just about out of leather oil for my pads."
With a nod Loren agreed, "Me, as well."
"Psshh, forget that!" Keely gave her mass of chestnut curls an indignant toss. "This little Gryffindor is running all the way to Honeydukes, and no one had best get in my way, or else they'll get my Beater's club right up their—"
"And I think that's enough out of you, Keely," Brian interrupted as he clapped a hand over the Scottish girl's mouth. To the group, he said, "If no one minds, I'd like to stop by Scribbles and Blibs and see if they've got the book I want. I promised my sister I'd get it for her for Christmas, if I could find it."
"Can't we just go straight to the Three Broomsticks?" lamented Kotter, looking irritated and slightly claustrophobic with the crush of people all around them.
"I thought we were all going to Gladrags Wizardwear so we could pick up materials for our costumes!" Darcy gazed between her friends, but they were all lost in their own individual worlds, all looking toward the shops they desired to visit. Only Oliver returned her glance with a shrug and helpless smile. She sighed dramatically. "All right, you know what? We're just going to get on each other's nerves if we start dragging each other around places. So why don't we just split up, and we'll all meet at the Three Broomsticks in an hour, okay?"
No sooner had she said the words than five of the seven broke off in varying directions, leaving only the Keeper and Seeker standing alone in the middle of the street. She raised a curious eyebrow at her lone companion. "Nowhere you want to go, Oliver?"
He shrugged again. "Nope. I came here to get my costume and hang out with you. Other'n that, I'm just along for the ride."
A smile illuminated her features. "Sweetness. Let's go then," she said cheerfully, and took his arm in demure, ladylike fashion as they started towards the clothier at the end of the lane. They were nearly halfway there when Darcy released Oliver and sprinted suddenly forward, just as two streaks of red went dashing by. The fourth-year ran quickly to catch up and emerged through a throng of Ravenclaws to find the blonde with a freckled identical face held in a headlock beneath either arm.
"—such a hurry to get to Zonko's," she was saying, the twins grinning mischievously up at her, "but I'm warning you now: if I find anything in my bed that explodes, transforms, or breathes, I will personally hand you both over to Professor Snape with my blessings that he do his worst to you. Understood?"
The twin on her right—Fred, if Oliver remembered correctly—replied with angelic innocence, "C'mon, Darcy, you know we'd never do anything to you…"
"Yeah, we only prank our enemies!" George chimed in.
"Well, and our friends," countered Fred.
"And random passers-by!"
"And family, of course!"
The Quidditch captain opened her mouth to interject, when the duo said suddenly in unison, "But we won't prank Darcy Reed!"
Eyeing the two identical redheads thoughtfully, a playful smile finally slid over her features, and she released them, but not before whispering to them, "In that case, bring me back something interesting. I've got a little score of my own to settle with Mr. Marcus Flint…" She handed them a few Sickles from her bag, then sent them scurrying off to the joke shop with devilish smiles on their indistinguishable features.
"Why do you encourage them?" asked Oliver as he fell into step with her once more. "They're always losing points for the House, and they're never serious at practice…"
Her sapphire eyes glittering with mirth, she explained, "Because they remind me that people who are always serious lead very boring lives. And then they try to press their serious, boring lives on everyone else, and get pouty and hostile when no one listens, and then they purposely blow shots during Quidditch games for three straight months…" She glanced back toward the Three Broomsticks, where Kotter had disappeared. "Not that I'm talking about anyone in particular or anything."
Giving her a gentle, playful shove, he laughed, "You're horrible, Darcy."
"Yeah, pretty much," she said with a giggle, then took hold of his arm again, tugging him towards the waiting doors of Gladrags. "Now come on, Wood, I've got a pocket full of hard-earned cash that I'm intent on wasting."
The interior of Gladrags Wizardwear was crowded wall to wall with countless racks of every style of clothing imaginable. It took only a few minutes before Darcy had acquired an armful of different garments and was winding her way to the dressing rooms. She left Oliver sitting outside after finagling from him a promise that he would observe and comment honestly on her various outfits.
For five minutes, he waited. Then ten. Then fifteen. As a rule, the fourth-year was remarkably patient, part of his easy-going personality, but finally he rose and gave the dressing room door a sharp knock. "Did you get lost in there?"
A frustrated sigh answered him, then, "Sorry, Oliver… I just can't decide… I've tried them both on a million times now… oh, hell, I don't know! Here, I'll show you, you can tell me what you think…" The door banged forcefully open—and suddenly to Oliver it seemed the air of Gladrags had grown terribly thin. His heart thudded crazily in his chest as he gaped at the blonde. Red silk comprised the dress she wore, sweeping sleekly over the girl's honey-colored flesh. A strapless, corset-style top wrapped tightly about her torso, done up the front in black bows, and brought special attention to the already-considerable swell of her breasts. At her slender hips, the dress loosened out into a flowing train, with one side slit all the way up to the middle of her thigh to reveal a lacy black garter belt. She'd accessorized the ensemble with pearl earrings and a black velvet choker, attached to which was a live fire lily. Her shoes were black heels with straps that crisscrossed artfully up her calves.
The Keeper swallowed thickly as the lovely Quidditch captain swept past, headed for a nearby bank of mirrors. "I'm so conflicted," she pouted aloud, studying her reflection. "I love this dress, but the white one I picked out for my angel self is amazing too…"
Opening his mouth to reply, Oliver found he could emit only a wordless squeak.
The mirror, meanwhile, had comments of its own. "A fairer sight I've never reflected, young mistress," came an english-lilted masculine voice. "Yet if the lady looks as stunning in white, I would suggest she purchase both."
At this Darcy laughed. "Not only flattering, but a salesman to the core. I may just take you up on that. I do need a gown for the Yule Ball, after all…" she had been musing to herself, and now suddenly remembered her friend's presence. "Ollie, what do you think?"
"Umm… muh?" Intelligence had fled him for the moment.
"Yeah, you're right. I think I will get them both. Kotter will just have to deal with being the angel for Halloween," she replied, seeming not to notice his flustered state. She gave a graceful twirl, examining herself once more in mirror and growing quite pleased with the sight she saw. Squealing happily, she spun around and kissed a still-stunned Oliver. "I love it! I'll change and pay for my dresses, then we can meet up with the others, huh?"
"Okay?" he managed to reply, but she'd already vanished into the dressing room. When she emerged once more, redressed, the red dress was neatly folded in her arms with shoes, garter, choker, and earrings on top in their appropriate boxes. Peeking from beneath all this was a tiny hint of white fabric. Oliver, who'd at last regained his dignity, shot a curious look at the girl. "Do I get to see the other dress?"
Darcy spied the white slip, and quickly tucked it under the rest. "Nope," she replied with a smug smile. "Nobody gets to see it till the night of the Yule Ball." And she refused to say another word on the subject, banishing the fourth-year to wait outside while she paid.
Everyone else was waiting for the two when they arrived at the Three Broomsticks. Darcy slid into a seat between Brian and Kotter. "I see I wasn't the only one to walk away with my change purse a little lighter," she mused, gazing contemplatively around at the gathered company. An immense bag of sweets sat open before Keely, who dug into it every couple of seconds for another piece of candy; Toby and Loren huddled over an issue of Quidditch Today, arguing about an article; and beneath Brian's chair was laid a wrapped, rectangular parcel—apparently he'd found his book.
Darcy sat her bag of clothing at her feet just as the Three Broomsticks' proprietor, Madam Rosmerta, approached their table. "Evening, dears. What can I get you this…" she paused, and studied the seven again more closely, until a brilliant smile of recognition washed over her rounded, cherubic features. "My Merlin, I almost didn't recognize you! This can't be the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Darcy Reed, look at you, you pretty thing! Older every time I see you! And Brian Keeler, you haven't changed one bit. And Toby and Loren and Kotter and Keely. I would have thought you'd all graduated by now!"
"It's our last year," answered Toby, blushing as he always did around the attractive barkeep.
"So it is," she replied, smiling at the Chaser until even the tips of his ears had turned pink. She then shifted her gaze to Oliver. "Ah, I see you've recruited someone new."
"Madam Rosmerta, Oliver Wood. Gryffindor Keeper," Darcy made the introductions, and after the two had shook, she added, "And everything we order is on my bill tonight, Rosmerta. In honor of my fabulous team, who have all performed beyond my wildest expectations already this short year." Her compatriots voiced instant protests, but the Quidditch captain would hear none of it. Ignoring her team, she told Rosmerta, "Do I need to tell you what we all want?"
The barkeep laughed, "You most certainly do not, Darcy Reed. I've known you seven years now, I think I can remember what my regular customers order. Let me see… butterbeer for Brian and Toby, gillywater for Keely, root beer for Loren, red currant rum for Kotter, and an Italian cherry soda on the rocks with a twist for the Quidditch Queen, here." She grinned teasingly at Darcy. "The only order I don't yet know is yours, Mr. Wood."
"Um, I'll just have what Darcy's having," he said with a shrug.
Thoughtfully Rosmerta eyed the Keeper and Seeker, a strange smile on her features. "So that's two Italian cherries," she said finally, still considering the two aforementioned Gryffindors. "Alright then, that'll be up in just—"
"Actually, I just want a water," said Kotter suddenly, startling the barkeep and his friends.
The waitress's visage melted from contemplative to confused, and she stared for a long time at Kotter before she said, "As you wish, Mr. Baines. I'll be back in a moment."
Darcy waited until Rosmerta had departed before she turned to her boyfriend, a perplexed look on her own tailored features. "What's up with you, Kotter? You never get water. In the seven years we've been going here, you've never gotten water. None of us have."
"Yeah, well, it's a little bit stupid to always be ordering the same thing, I think," he replied shortly, arms folded across his chest.
"It does make it easier for the waitress, though," she pointed out.
Snorting, Kotter sneered at the Seeker, "How would you know?"
"Well, it just happens that the summer before last, I decided to get a job, to make some money and see what the working world was like. I ended up waiting tables at the Fluttering Phoenix in Diagon Alley, and I'll tell you now, I loved regulars. They always ordered the same thing, and it made things a lot easier on me," she replied, her tone slightly offended by Kotter's sudden, baseless hostility.
Attempting to break the tension, Brian announced teasingly, "You were a waitress, DC? What on earth for? Your family's like, totally saturated with cash. Did you run out of Galleons to dump in your swimming pool or something?"
Darcy laughed, punching her friend in the shoulder. "Yeah, that's it. Plus, there's a couple Pacific islands I've been saving up to buy—"
"Okay, we get that you're flippin' rich, just get over it!" Kotter suddenly exploded, and leapt to his feet quickly enough to make his chair fly backward. Silence crept instantly over the bar as all eyes fell to the seventh-year, who glared defiantly back at them all.
Slowly, calmly, the blonde stood, and took her boyfriend by the elbow. "I think we'll take a walk," she said in a low voice, and dug her nails hard into Kotter's arm. He followed her out of the bar and down the street to a secluded alley without argument. When they were safely out of earshot of Hogsmeade's general populace, she hissed angrily at him, "Just what is your problem today? Snapping at me, being a prat about everything? You got something you want to tell me?"
"No," he answered, a bit too quickly.
"Listen, you better tell me what bug's up your ass right now, because I refuse to go back into that bar with you still acting like this," she replied and took his chin into her palm, forcing him to look at her. He stared sullenly back. "What's going on, Kotter?"
Defiantly he pursed his lips and remained silent, but Darcy had been in far too many staring contests with the Chaser before, and knew all the tricks to make him break. After a solid minute of her sharp sapphire eyes penetrating his sulking emerald ones, he finally looked away and muttered, "It's all your fault."
Taking offense, she demanded, "What's all my fault?!"
"You're doing it again, Darcy. You're always… fawning over him, and making eyes at him, and flirting with him. You might as well just scream out that you're screwing him. That's probably what you did when you two took off together, huh? Huh?" A slightly hysterical gleam had crept into eyes, and his voice had risen several pitches. "After all those things I promised to you, you just go off and cheat on me anyway, you bitch—"
Darcy's fist met with Kotter's jaw before the boy could even prepare. He stumbled backward into the wall, a bewildered expression on his face as he rubbed at the forming bruise on his chin. With fists still balled at her sides, she ground out, "Don't you ever call me that. Or accuse me of cheating again. Ever."
Speechless, he could only gape at her.
"If I've told you once, I've told you five million times, Kotter: I would never cheat on you. Least of all with Oliver, which is what you're accusing me of doing. And that you would have the nerve to suggest it after he was the one to patch up our relationship in the first place! I am so disgusted with you right now, it's not even funny. I'm starting to regret that I agreed to give you another chance in the first place—"
"No. No, don't say that," he pleaded, his words a bit slurred from his slowly swelling jaw. "I am so sorry, Darcy, I didn't mean to say that. I didn't mean any of it, I swear."
"You never do! That's just it! You never do! And yet you say it anyway. How in the name of Merlin am I supposed to believe anything you say anymore? I can't do this much longer, Kotter, the stress is burning me out!" She paced the alley, running her slender fingers frantically through her hair. After so long of relative peace, the last thing she'd been expecting that day was a fight. Her empty stomach knotted itself over to point she felt like throwing up.
He started toward her, then paused, carefully eyed her fists, and chose to remain a few steps back. In a soft voice, he placated her, "I know it is, baby. And I really don't mean to do the things I do. I just can't help it sometimes. But I've been better lately, haven't I? I really have been trying. It's just… I see you with him… He makes you laugh. I've never made you laugh."
"You're jealous because he makes me laugh?" said Darcy, with a bit more loathing in her voice than she'd meant to convey.
"It's stupid, I know."
She barked a short, cruel laugh. "Yeah, just a little." She paused in her pacing, and stared at Kotter long enough that he began to squirm. At last her features softened. "All right. All right. We both have overreacted here. You're right. You have been doing a lot better. I can't expect miracles overnight, I guess." In a gesture of peace, she held out her hand. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me too." Surpassing her outstretched appendage, he put his arms around her and drew her close, dropping a kiss to the soft hollow of her neck.
Darcy had begun to lean into his ministrations when she caught from the corner of her eye his own gaze, and she froze. The sincerity and kindness that had been in those emerald eyes for the past two weeks was now absent, though he was obviously trying hard to feign the proper expressions. An icy cold hand seemed to clutch down on her heart as she stepped out of his grasp and stared at him. The persistent feeling of mistrust that had been dwelling in the back of her mind since the Quidditch pitch incident now flashed drastically through her body.
"Um… we should probably get back to the bar… Darcy? What?" He was getting uncomfortable beneath her scrutinizing glare, but tried on a shaky smile nonetheless. "Baby? What do you say?"
Her voice flat, she agreed, "Let's go," and let him take her hand as they reentered the bar. The rest of the day failed to be as bright for the girl, as a shadow of warning had fallen over her mind. She resolved to wait and see what the following day's Quidditch scrimmage would bring.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
For some reason, I feel like I didn't write this chapter as well as the others… I mean, I put a lot of effort into it… I don't know. Maybe I'm paranoid. Anyway. Drop me some feedback so I know if I did okay. I really do hope you liked it though! Look for Sixteen and Seventeen up sometime this weekend.
Much love and good hair days to you all ~ *Adele*