Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I love you all.

November 10

Charms

I saw Mr. French Model wandering around the halls today! I couldn't stop staring at him and imagine how embarrassed I was when he caught me. Fortunately, he grinned and waved. Feeling much like a fool, I quickly waved back and sped off down the hall. Katie and Alicia attempted to keep up after me, laughing like mad and asking whom I was trying to avoid. When I told them about my plan and my former interaction with Mr. French Model, they gave me hearty high-fives.

Fred's starting to speak to me again. Actually, the only thing he's said so far to me is "pass the butter." God, why won't he just grow up for once? I'd like to tell him how much I miss having my best friend around but he probably would just walk away again.

It sucks having to be in this situation. George won't tell me anything and neither will Lee. They said they've been "sworn to secrecy." Stupid prats.

Although, George mentioned that his twin told him that he (Fred) was seriously thinking of breaking up with Olivia.

Do I smell potential romance lingering in the air?

November 15

Care of Magical Creatures

Well, here's an interesting tidbit of the day! Katie just told me that it seems as though there's some kind of "competition" going between two of the most popular boys from the other school. I'm pretty sure it's not very chivalry either. Katie told me that Lee told her that Lavender Brown overheard it while walking to Divination with Seamus. Seeing as how Lavender has the biggest mouth and an ear for gossip, I'm not quite sure the rumor is false.

November 18

Dorms

My revengeplan seems to be in full-throttle now. Today, I was walking around the grounds by myself. It was a Saturday and of course, the girls had flocked to "their boys" like bears to honey. Katie was hanging out with Lee and Alicia was lounging around with George and Fred. Seeing as how I'm currently extremely mad at dear old Frederick, I passed Alicia's offer. Now, guess whom I happened to bump into? That's right, Mr. French Model himself!

He was strolling along with one of his guy friends, who if I must say, isn't too bad looking either! Anyway, Mr. French Model was walking behind me but I didn't really notice, because I was too busying mentally fuming and pining over Fred.

I heard rushed foot steps approach and I turned around, to meet the biggest and brightest pair of chocolate colored eyes I'd ever seen. By rough calculation, I'd say he's about 5''11 or 6''0. He had dirty blond hair, kind of the color of fresh hay. It appeared as though he'd gone through an entire bottle of hair gel, due to the fact each lock of hair was spiked to perfection.

He didn't have a splattering of freckles but flawless ivory skin that was lightly kissed by plentiful sunlight. His smile was shy and courteous, unlike the sly, charming, rebellious grin that Fred was infamous for. He lacked the deep dimples that Fred possesses, but his smile was nice in an entirely opposite way.

There was something about this guy that screamed poetic innocence. Like one of those deeply moving artist types that rarely speak, but when they did, it was so moving and beautiful, you were afraid that your breathing would shatter the moment.

This was so unlike Fred, who said anything and mostly everything that was on his mind, whether it is bluntly rude or sincerely sweet.

His robes were halfway buttoned and the hint of an expensive, maroon Armani Exchange sweater peeked through. His pants were black trousers, probably also Armani. He's the kind of guy that would probably take a girl out to some sophisticated restaurant where the entire menu is in French and you have to at least wear high heels to be admitted inside.

I wasn't sure I wanted anything to do with that kind of guy, because I wasn't too into fancy balls and extravagance. I'm more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl, if you will.

But I mean, it's all in good fun and I do need a decoy. If I'm going to use anyone, at least it is someone attractive!

Anyway, I stopped and turned around. His friend and him stopped as well, Mr. French Model coming forward.

"Hello mademoiselle," he warmly greeted, with a slight French accent.

It wasn't as bad as that Fleur girl, but it was undeniably laced with the accent.

"Hey," I anxiously responded.

Sure, I had thought about what I'd say to him before, but now that he was right in front of me, I felt a little uneasy. I wasn't too sure what he wanted. I mean, it's not everyday some hot foreign guy comes up to you and willingly starts a conversation. Maybe it was a dare. Knowing my luck, Fred probably set it up.

His friend, who was equally tall and equally brunette, muttered something in French and Mr. French Model chuckled, nodding all the while. I lightly bit my lip and started shifting from foot to foot. They were probably talking about me, laughing about how I had like lip-gloss smeared all over my face or something.

Mr. French Model gave a little cough to clear his throat, then started fiddling with a button on his robe.

"I know this may sound strange, but I was wondering. Do you have a boyfriend?"

My eyes widened, a slow smile spreading across my lips. Woah, hold up a minute. Did he say what I just think he said? This was so surreal!

I let out a nervous giggle. There had to be a catch, there always was a catch.

"No offense, but why do you care?" I curiously wondered.

It was better to be on my guard, then let my hopes up. I'd learned that from experience.

His friend let out a deep laugh, then gently punched Mr. French Model in the shoulder. Mr. French Model grumbled something to him in French, which I'm guessing was a slew of curse words, due to the caustic tone of his voice. I rose an eyebrow and Mr. French Model turned back to me, wildly grinning though his smile seemed more confident than before.

"Well, eh, I was wondering if I could, how do you say, get to know you better? But I've seen you around that red head boy and I didn't know if he was your boyfriend," Mr. French Model confessed.

My wary smile brightened and I actually laughed. So he thought Fred was my boyfriend. HA. What a joke! The day Fred asked me out would be the day that Hermione Granger received a failing grade. Which would be practically never.

"Fred? No, no, he's not my boyfriend. Not even close to it. We're just friends," I quickly informed.

Mr. French Model let out a laugh of relief and stopped toying with his button, his anxiety slowly fading away. He flashed me a charming grin and held out a hand. He had really long, slender fingers, as though he were a professional piano player.

"That's tres good to hear. Excuse me for being so forward before. I'm Christian Monet," he introduced.

I shook his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I was wearing it in a ponytail, but some of it had come out, due to the fact Lee had been chasing me around the castle, trying to make me taste this three year old Cauldron Cake he'd found at the bottom of his sock drawer.

"Angelina Johnson," I eagerly enlightened.

Christian casually waved a hand to his friend.

"This is Pierre."

"Hi, Angelina is it?" Pierre guessed, giving a slight wave. His accent was even thicker than Christian's.

I nodded. Oh man, was this my lucky day or what? Two hot French guys that wanted to get to know me better? There is a God!

"Yes, that's right."

Christian shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly struck with a case of shyness.

"So, would you like to walk around the grounds with me? Maybe, show me around the school?" he proposed as his smile waned into shy apprehension.

I nodded, instantly accepting the offer. I would have to be an idiot to pass up an opportunity like that. With any luck, we'd run into Fred and I could put the moves on Christian! Yeah, it sounds ruthless but all's fair in love and war. Besides, it wasn't my choice to stoop down to this level. But that's the way Fred wanted to play and that's the way I'd conform.

"That sounds wonderful," I genuinely responded.

Christian said something in French to Pierre. This caused Pierre to chuckle and with a quick eye roll, he started to retreat back to the castle.

"Goodbye, Angelina. I hope we meet again!" Pierre called.

I waved goodbye, then he turned his back and continued walking.

"What'd you say to him?" I wondered.

We started walking, the rhythm of our foot steps in sync. Christian threw me a sly smile, his eyes sparkling.

"I told him to let us have a moment to ourselves. You don't think I'd want to share such a beautiful girl like you with anyone else, do you?" he teased.

It was such a cheesy pick-up line but I blushed anyway. Hey, it's rare to be complimented by hot guys! The last time Fred gave me a sincere compliment was last semester. And it didn't even really qualify. I had been wearing a bit of makeup and Fred said, "What's that stuff all over your face?"

I rolled my eyes and had curtly responded, "Makeup, you dolt."

Fred nodded and pretended to be engrossed in his game of wizard's chess.

After a minute or two, he quickly replied, "It looks weird. But you look er, good."

I had only responded with a short, "Thanks."

Can you believe I spent nearly two hours walking around with Christian? It really felt like less than that. But he's just so easy to talk to. He told me all about his home life and himself in general. His father is a muggle and his Mum is a witch. His Mum owns a wand shop in Paris and his father is a lawyer. They actually met through family friends.

His father is known for his quick temper and strict guidelines, while his Mum is patient and soft-spoken. They live in a medium-sized colonial style house about five minutes away from the city. He loves Qudditch and is his House Seeker, but likes playing Beater better. He has a younger brother, Aden, who's three. The family also has a dog, which is a golden retriever named Picasso.

Chrisitan goes to Beauxbatons (obviously) and is at the top of his class. He told me that he can become a bit of a stress case when exams roll around and his friends always tease him that he's a perfectionist. His favorite subject is DADA and his least favorite is potions. His favorite color is red and his favorite food is anything chocolate. And not much to my surprise, he loves to paint.

See, I told you I was right about that artistic flair! Actually, he did more talking than I did. I told him about my parents and my friends (minus Fred), and tried not to make my life sound as boring as it really is. We have some things in common but not every thing. I like that. It's kind of exciting to be around someone I haven't known for the past six years I've been at Hogwarts. Fortunately, he broke up with his girlfriend last month and fortunately, he's finally ready for another relationship.

His sense of humor is more so sarcastic than goofy, like the twins and Lee. But I like that. After all those practical jokes, it's nice to be around someone a little more down-to-earth.

I'm supposed to sit with him tomorrow during dinner. We were all sitting around in the common room and I mentioned it to Katie and Alicia. I was sitting on the couch with Alicia. Fred was playing Wizard's Chess with Lee. George was standing behind Lee, waiting to play whoever the winner was.

The girls were really excited for me. Fred overheard and got really annoyed. This resulted in an argument, although I was trying my best not to smile. Then I later tried my best not to break down into hysterical tears.

"What's this guy's name?" he demanded, pausing to look up from his game of Wizard's Chess.

I crossed my arms over my chest and threw him a smug grin.

"Christian Monet, not like it's any of your business," I sneered.

Katie snickered, who was located in a raggedy armchair across the couch, and continued to flip through the latest issue of "Teen Witch Weekly." Fred's head drooped down to the board and he scratched his chin, lost in thought. He made his next move, then gazed back at me once more, that expression of confusion and deep concentration etched into his face.

"Angie, I have a bad vibe about him. Why are you hanging around him?"

I wrinkled my nose at him, as though just gotten the whiff of something rotten.

"Why do you care?"

Fred frowned. I noticed that Lee was listening in on the conversation, his expression mirroring Fred's but resisting the urge to vocalize his thoughts.

"Look, don't start PMSing just because I'm concerned! Anyway, I don't know. I just get a weird feeling about him."

I rolled my eyes.

"Right. So I'm supposed to stay away from him just because you're overreacting!" I shrilly proclaimed.

Fred's attention was completely away from the chess game now.

"No! I never said that. Don't put words in my mouth! All I'm saying is that there's something way off about him," the red head fiercely argued.

Suddenly, Lee looked up from plotting the next move.

"Wait? Christian Monet, you said? French with dark hair and dark eyes?" he suddenly questioned.

I nodded, unsure of what he was getting at.

"Yes, that's him."

Lee scowled.

"And really bony hands? Yeah, I knew I recognized that name from somewhere. I just didn't want to mention anything in fear of you yelling at me. Anyway, Fred's right. This guy is nothing but trouble. I was in the loo yesterday afternoon and I overheard him talking to one of his friends. I didn't pay too much attention, but it seems like they were discussing some kind of bet."

I rose an eyebrow, snorting at Lee. Yeah, sure like I'm going to believe him. This was totally preposterous. All of a sudden, just when I start to mention Christian, Lee generates some wild story to steer me away from him. What a git.

"Oh and what kind of bet?" I sarcastically demanded.

Lee shrugged and Fred was on the edge of his seat, gripping it so hard, his knuckles turned white.

"I don't know the specific details, but it was a bet to see which guy could sleep with the most Hogwarts girls," he explained, heavy disgust directed towards Christian.

Fred turned red, but not from embarrassment.

"I knew it! That bastard. Angie, don't go out with him," Fred grumbled.

I let out a frustrated groan.

"Fred, I'm not eleven years old anymore. I don't need you watching out for me. Besides, how do we even know this is Christian we're talking about? Maybe it was his friend, Pierre. What did you say he looked like again, Lee?"

Lee gazed back at me in surprise, reluctant to get too involved in a heated row.

"Uh…well, he had brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing expensive clothes. And… he had these weird, long fingers. Like a piano player," he sheepishly described.

I let out a victorious laugh, directed at Fred.

"Ah ha! You see! That could be anyone, for all we know. Brown hair and brown eyes? That's half of the blokes just at our school," I defiantly declared.

Fred shook his head, his frown transformed into a deep scowl.

"Yeah, but half of the blokes at Hogwarts aren't French with girly, piano hands!" he shot back.

I glared at him, wishing the fireballs in my eyes were real.

"Fred, you're such an asshole, you know that!" I screeched, standing up.

Fred was fuming now. He quickly stood up as well, nearly taking the table with him. The chair he had been sitting on clattered to the floor. By now, everyone was deathly still. The only people talking were Fred and myself.

"Oh, oh so now I'm the asshole just because I care about you? Does that make any sense to you, Angel? You know, looks can be deceiving! Just cause this guy has fancy-shmancy clothes and pretends to be Mr. Right, doesn't mean anything!" he barked.

I walked over to him, shoving a finger into his chest. Though I was genuinely upset, I was pleased to see Fred was reacting with such passion. This jealousy idea was going better than I thought.

"You're the one to talk, Fred!"

"What does that mean?" he roared.

I threw him a smirk, looking him up and down.

"You actually look like a nice guy, but really, you're just some immature prankster, who doesn't give a shit about school and fucks anything that's female!"

Katie gasped, Alicia's rosy cheeks drained of all color and George looked like he wanted to piss his pants with laughter. Lee was simply watching the whole charade, shaking his head at the both of us.

Fred's mouth flung open, his arms limp at his sides.

"Is that what you really think of me?" he half-whispered, as though being strangled.

The anger from my face softened to icy indifference. I wanted to take it all back, but it was too late now. Besides, did he even care what I said anymore, let alone thought about him? He had his many admirers. He could go get comfort from one of them.

"Well, like you said. Looks can be deceiving," I venomously validated.

His face immediately went from hurt to enraged in a matter of seconds.

"You know what, fine! I don't even know why I bother! I thought you'd actually appreciate me giving you a heads up! But I guess not! It's weird because YOU actually seem like this sweet, caring, funny, amazingly beautiful girl on the outside. For the last six years, I believed that. But I guess for once, the joke's on me. Cause now I see what an icy, selfish BITCH you really are!"

My eyes widened and I gaped at him in complete and dejected shock. Never had I seen him so furious at me. God, I'm a world class idiot. I only wanted him to feel jealous and now he hated my guts. Could I screw this up anymore?

But I couldn't let him see my remorse. So I played the card of anger once more.

"I hate you!" I thundered.

Of course I didn't mean it, but it felt like it. Why did he always do this to me? One minute he could be so sweet, the next he made me want to slap him about eighty times.

Fred opened and snapped his jaw shut, the vicious sneer on his face slipping into oblivion as he pressed his lips into a thin, red line. I thought he was going to throw his chair out the window or something, he looked so infuriated.

"You really have grown up. I guess I just couldn't keep up," he softly growled.

He promptly turned on his heel and stormed up to the boy's dormitories, slamming the door so forcefully, that it echoed throughout the halls. I continued to stare at his retreating figure, even when he was completely gone.

My heart ached and I felt broken to the core. If only I had stopped before I'd even started. A loan tear stealthily escaped my eye; the argument fresh in my ears but my mind solely focused on the fact that Fred Weasley had just called me "beautiful."

A/N; 2: Monet is pronounced Moan-ay, like the painter.