Disclaimer: I own nothing… this is getting really boring – having to do disclaimers. I keep trying to do very impressive and amusing… things. But it ain't working. So everyone'll have to excuse me when I go back to the usual and very unoriginal:
All characters and events in this are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. J. K. Rowling owns this world – and most of the characters in it – I own what you don't recognise.
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End of last chapter:
"It says… 'Potter's Girl'.
"Be quick about – WHAT!?"
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Unforgettable, In Every WayPart IV – In Which There is Throwing and Red Salad
My hands flew of their own accord to my face, covering my mouth and most of my cheeks – just leaving my eyes and my bright crimson forehead uncovered.
"Beamer!" Karen crowed, causing my face to go even redder – to my shame.
"How – how DARE he!" I muttered, but inside I was secretly pleased, which confused me. Shouldn't I be angry? Why do I have this little bubble of pleasure inside me, almost making me smile?
"I think that this calls for some payback!" Karen grinned at me, her canines' showing below her drawn lips – an answering grin coming from my lips.
We both turned and stalked up the stairs; turned down the corridor; pushed the hanging tapestry aside; went up even more flights of stairs; through an illusional mirror; finally through the Fat Lady's portrait and into the common room.
The Marauders weren't there.
"Well the nerve of that!" Karen exclaimed, hands on hips in the centre of the common room, "And I was all set to do something horrid to them!"
"That's probably why they aren't here," I remarked as I lead the way up the stairs to the dorm that I shared with three other girls, "And just out of curiosity, what were you going to do to them?"
"I have absolutely no idea."
At that, I stopped short in the stairwell, "What? But you…?"
"I was planning on thinking of the hexes as I used them. Now don't block the stairs!"
Karen shoved passed me and opened the latch on the door to my dorm, pushing it open at the same time and leading the way inside. She flopped onto my bed – taking up most of the space on it – as I entered the room.
My other roommates hadn't come back from their classes yet – or had other 'pressing' engagements.
I sank into a heap in the middle of the floor on the rug and reached for my copy of the Daily Prophet that I had just briefly scanned at breakfast.
"Anything interesting?"
"No," I answered as I leafed through the pages, "Unless you find it extremely fascinating to find that Greg Towns ate a total sum of eleven chocolate frogs last night and he and his manager had a fight about how he reacts to the media attention…"
"Pft!"
"Thought not."
"It's a shame, that."
"Hmm?" I had been avidly reading an article about hair growth. Thinking about the poor soul who had either wanted to do this article, or had had no choice in the matter.
Either way, feeling pity for them.
"Greg Towns gets absolutely no personal life – at all! When he and Selina Rocher broke up for the first time he could hardly talk to anyone through the fire without someone listening in on the conversation,"
Karen rolled on to her stomach so that she could look at me better, perhaps hoping that eye contact would make what she was telling me have more of an impact.
But I think that she forgot that she had already told me this at least a million times. I don't think that it affected me 'quite' how she had meant it to.
"Oh rubbish!" I started the usual ritual as I read the next article - this was about how robes were made. "He and Selina broke up just for the media attention. As soon as they had full coverage from the Daily Prophet they got back together again!"
"But… yes, well…"
"No buts! Just because you fancy him – you're not listening are you?" Karen's eyes had taken on a dreamy look as soon as I had said 'buts'. I groaned in annoyance. Knowing her as I do, she was probably thinking about Towns' arse!
The bell rang from downstairs to call the house to tea. That had been the shortest two hours ever!
We started down the stairwell, joined by other girls as we went down. The boys were flooding out of their separate stairs and the Griffindors who had gone up to their rooms all trouped down to tea together.
As Karen and I passed the Ravenclaw table, people pointed and snickered at me. Why did I feel like I was having deja vu? Perhaps I hadn't –
The pink writing!
I squeaked, my legs freezing in their tracks, Karen being carried away by the crowd before she had noticed that I had stopped.
How do I get this off me? I had no idea how to perform the counter curse… although I swear that I will now pay attention to Professor Wells - the Charms teacher - and study as much as I can so that no one, not Sirius or anyone, can do this to me again.
Sirius! The 'delightful' boy who was the cause of this problem! He would know how to get this off me – after all, he was the one who put it on me in the first place.
With the goal of finding him in mind I set off, oblivious to the catcalls and snickers I had attracted.
I definitely found the Marauders.
Or rather, I tripped and landed in Remus Lupin's lap. The hand that I had tried to use to keep my balance pin-wheeling and knocking the pitcher of juice on its side on the table, it's red liquid pooling beneath cups and plates, colouring the salad.
"Ah, and who do we have here?" I couldn't quite make out who said that, my view mainly consisting of Lupin's startled face, the expression changing into mirth.
"Girls just throw themselves into your lap. How do you do it?" That, I could tell was said by Pettigrew, his small head shaking in disbelief and his mouse-like features conveying something almost like admiration.
"I did not just throw myself at him!" I exclaimed as I fought to sit up.
My legs got caught in everything: the table leg, Lupin's robes, my robes, others robes. I think I even kicked someone – although I'm not quite sure if that was by accident or out of my frustration.
At the next Prefects' Meeting I am going to try to get robes abolished – they seem to cause more trouble for me than they're worth, "I only tried to – "
"Shhh!"
"I will n – " a hand clamped over my mouth, effectively cutting off my protests. The hall had suddenly become extremely silent, that meant that –
"Dumbledore's about to speak," James Potter told me, but I had already worked that out. He then took his hand off my mouth.
His hand was very soft, I couldn't help noticing – a flush involuntarily coming to my cheeks. It had the calluses from his Quiddich practices and they were warm to the touch. They were so –
"Miss. Evans. Is there a reason why you are sitting on Mr. Lupin's lap?" the voice originated from the teachers' table, echoing down the hall. It's coldness causing me to shiver – like it carried a draft with it.
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Response to Reviews:
violingirl7: I hope that you like this chapter! Please keep reviewing! I'm glad that you like Kerr – I do too.
Shay: Thanks for the complement – here's the next instalment!
Patrioticangel: I realize that this is another cliffhanger… but writing then is addictive! I'll try and stop – but I'm not sure I can!
A Naughty Mouse: I'm not entirely sure what song you're talking about- but it sounds good! I'll keep mentioning you if you keep reviewing! Make me happy too!
Swishy Willow Wand: Kill dog-boy? Want to elaborate on that?! Here's the update!
Padfoot Hoshi: I'll expect you to keep that promise – as this is the next chapter! ^_^
End Note:
This seems like as good as any time to stop!
Hehehehehehe!
Writing those 'Hehes' are addictive!
Do the usual!
Read and review!