A/N: If you ever wondered what it looks like for an asexual to write romance: this is it, lads.
I had an absolute blast writing Murdoch in this one and I didn't even try to hide it. This was a fun chapter.
Two vertebrae popped in Professor Snape's spine as he straightened his back. His right eye twitched as he squinted down a young Slytherin's cauldron. "Baker, are you brewing doxycide or dragon liver pudding?"
Baker tugged at his tie, pulling his stirring rod out of the cauldron. It came up coated in thick black goop. "Um…" he blinked. "Can I get back to you on that, sir?"
Snape sighed. "Please don't." He moved to the next student, taking in the green noxious smoke billowing out of their cauldron. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stevenson..."
"Sorry, professor," said Stevenson. "I misread the instructions."
"You don't say." Snape rolled his eyes.
Stevenson hunched his shoulders. "Are you doing anything for Valentine's Day, Professor?" He asked pleasantly, to change the subject.
Snape regarded him sharply. "The same I do every year, Stevenson: spoil myself by not worrying about what or how much I eat and then fall asleep and hope that I don't wake up."
Stevenson's eyes widened. He nodded slowly. "Sounds fun, sir."
"If only it was." Snape walked to his desk, rubbing his temples. I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. He sat down in his chair.
He didn't hate Valentine's Day, but his particular situation in the romance department tainted the holiday for him.
"Sir?"
"What?" he snapped, glaring up at the frizzy bush of blonde hair in front of him.
Julia Ogden stood by his desk, her hands clasped behind her back. Snape's expression softened a little. Julia was one of his favourite students, which meant that she was one of the few students he only found mildly annoying. "Ogden," he said. "Have you finished brewing your doxycide?"
She nodded. "Yes sir." Smiling, she laid a sealed envelope on his desk. "I made you a Valentine card, Professor."
Snape picked up the envelope between his thumb and pointer finger and tossed it in a small pile of papers and envelopes. "Thank you, Ogden, I wish you all the happiness for the holiday." He waved his hand.
She didn't move. "Sir?"
"What now?"
She took a breath. "Well, I was hosting a Valentine's party for some friends of mine this Friday and—"
"Ah, I see." He straightened in his seat. "You may use Dungeon number sixteen if you wish."
"Thank you, sir." Julia squeezed her hands together behind her back. "Sir?"
"Ogden, don't you have other places to be a bother?"
"Well, sir, I was going to invite some of the professors, and I was hoping you would come."
Surprise passed over Snape's face, but he quickly regained his sour expression. "I shall see if I am available, Ogden," he said. "I do have very important plans, you know."
Julia grinned. "Thank you, professor. I hope you'll come. All the other professors say they're too busy."
"Yes, yes." Snape waved his hand. "Go clean your station."
She nodded, scampering off.
Snape sat back in his seat, bewildered. He had never been invited to a student's party before. The professors would invite him to theirs, of course, and the Slytherin house party always welcomed him, though he never attended, but he'd never in all his years of teaching received an invitation to a student's private, friends-only party.
He scratched his chin. He tolerated Ogden, she was a bright young student with a passion for potions, if perhaps a little too energetic for his tastes. He sighed. He would have to decline his invitation.
He wouldn't ruin her party by showing up.
Flying like this was amazing, George decided, shooting through the air on a borrowed broomstick. Cold wind whipped in his face, his numb fingers gripping the broom so tight his knuckles were white. The world rushed past him as he climbed higher and higher, the ground falling backwards. His body burned with exhilaration, rocketing into the sky like a firework.
About thirty feet above the empty Quidditch pitch, he stopped, hovering in the air. He gazed down at the ground. Thomas Brackenreid watched him from below, sitting on his broom, looking like a shrimp. The whole world, including George, held its breath. He exhaled a white cloud of air, his fingers curling tighter than a vice around the broom. His eyes slid closed, and he leaned forward.
He plummeted towards the ground. His body shook like a leaf in the wind. He pried his eyelids open to see the white blanket of snow covering the Quidditch pitch growing to consume his whole field of vision. He gulped in teaspoonfuls of air. Timing, George, timing… His heartbeat pounding in his temples, he counted the seconds as the earth grew closer and closer. Gritting his teeth, he clenched the broom handle so hard his fingers could have fallen off. Not yet… not yet… not yet… The end of the broom was only a few feet from jamming into the earth. All he could see was snow. His eyes widened. NOW NOW NOW, PULL UP NOW! He yanked the broom handle towards himself, but it was too late. He braced himself for impact.
"Bloody hell!" Thomas swore under his breath, kicking his broom into action. "Crabtree!" He glanced anxiously at the kid lying in the snow. "You all right?"
George lay in a tangled heap of limbs, spitting fluffy white snow and broom hairs out of his face. "I've been better." He groaned as Thomas helped him sit upright.
Chuckling, Thomas gave him a once-over, making sure he didn't have any broken bones. "You're lucky you pulled up at the last second," he commented. "Or you might have just killed yourself. Just next time, maybe pull up earlier, okay?" He patted him on the shoulder. "Nice dive, though. You really gathered speed."
"Yup." George winced, rubbing his head. "I felt all of that speed when I slammed into the ground."
Thomas smiled sympathetically. "Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"
George shook his head, clumsily getting to his feet like a baby deer. "I'm fine," he said, brushing off his knees and elbows. "I'm going to try again. I want to get that dive right."
Thomas shrugged. "All right," he said. "Just be careful. You know what Madam Hooch said. You're only allowed flying outside of class because she trusts me, and if you get hurt on my watch, you won't be allowed to touch a broom ever again." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "She'll also probably kill me if something happens to you, so please be careful."
"I got it." Mounting his broom, George sucked in a deep breath and kicked off the ground. He shot into the sky like a bullet from a gun. Keep your body low, climb up high enough, gather speed and then pull up at the right time. He needed to figure this out if he ever wanted to be a Seeker.
When he reached the height of the Gryffindor Tower, he gently leveled out his broom, flying in a small circle to turn himself around.
George stared at the drop, swallowing hard. "Pull up earlier this time, George Crabtree." He sucked in his cheeks. "But not too early or else you won't have enough speed." Nodding, he adjusted his grip. "Earlier but not too early." He exhaled slowly and began his descent.
As the Quidditch Pitch steadily grew larger and larger, a small figure in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
She was petite. Her body almost disappeared under her robes and green scarf. Her brown hair was pulled into two braids and she gazed at George with the biggest eyes he had ever seen.
He hadn't seen her before. He'd have remembered.
"Crabtree, pull up!" Thomas' frantic yell made him jump. George turned his head to look ahead of him at the wall of snow two feet away from his face. He had just enough time to gasp before he hit the ground and everything went white.
Llewellyn Watts flipped through the pages of his Potions textbook, his mind elsewhere, as it often was. A brown feather drifted down onto the page, and he aimlessly plucked it up and ran his fingers through the soft barbs. The air hung with the distinct smell of bird, a not exactly unpleasant smell, just very strong. Watt's robes usually reeked of it.
Watts liked to study in the owlery. It was secluded, hardly anyone ever came up there, and he liked being surrounded by owls. Owls didn't ask questions, owls didn't judge you, and owls didn't jump up in your face trying to talk to you all the time and—
"Watts! There you are!"
Watts jumped out of his skin, dropping his textbook. The owls fluttered in surprise.
"Sorry!" A girl rushed forward, swooping down to pick up the book, nursing the bent pages. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay, it's my fault." Watts glanced at her, recognition flashing in his face. "You're Murdoch's friend, right?" He paused, trying to remember her name. "Jane? Jessica?"
"Julia," she supplied.
Watts snapped his finger. "Julia!"
She smiled, handing his textbook back to him. "That's me."
Watts took the book in his hands, dropping it callously into his book bag. "Did you need something?"
"Well." Julia brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Here," she said, passing him a scrap of paper. "I got you a candy gram."
"Thanks."
"And I was wondering…" Julia smiled. "I'm hosting a Valentine's party this Friday, and I was hoping you'd come."
Watts wore a confused frown. "You're inviting me to a party?"
"Yes."
He held up a finger. "You're inviting me to a Valentine's party?"
She nodded.
Watts' face went beet red. "I… um…" He sucked in a breath. "Well, um… I, I definitely think you're a great person and you're, uh… very… attractive… but I—"
"No!" Julia held up her hands to stop him. "I'm not asking you out, Watts." She bit back a laugh. "I just thought you might like a party."
"Oh," Watts smiled in relief. "That's… that's good." He scratched the back of his head. "I mean, not good like good that you're not asking me, because you really are a good looking person, I just mean good like good for you because I'm—"
"Watts," Julia chuckled. "It's fine. I don't like you that way either."
Watts blushed, nodding. He took the candy gram in his hand. "Thank you." He cleared his throat. "Who's all invited?"
"Well," Julia counted them off on her fingers. "You, and me, Thomas Brackenreid, George Crabtree, Emily Grace —she's a first year Slytherin— and," a dreamy look came over her. "William Murdoch."
Watts prickled at the last name. Emotions usually eluded him; he felt them, but he never quite understood their purpose, and he usually ignored them.
There was one feeling, though, that he couldn't ignore: the way his heart would start chugging like a railroad train every time he heard the name Murdoch, the shaky feeling his knees and hands always got every time he sat next to him in Potions, the heat that would spread all over him whenever Murdoch would talk to him.
Every time the feeling would come over him, he'd pinch himself. What do you know about love? He'd ask. Absolutely nothing, was the answer.
But one look at Julia told him that she was having the exact same feeling.
"You like him, don't you?" He asked.
Julia's face went a deep, stewed tomato red. "No!" She said. "I mean, I like him like a friend, I don't…"
Watts stared at her pointedly.
She sighed, her eyes meeting the floor. "Yes," she said. "I like him. I really, really like him."
"Then ask him out," said Watts. You have that luxury, he thought. He couldn't do that. Murdoch was many things, but attracted to boys was definitely not one of them.
"I can't just ask him out!" Julia yelped. "He's my friend, it would ruin everything!" She sucked in a deep breath. "I… can't ask him out. He only sees me as a friend, and if I ask him out now… he'll get freaked out." She sighed, staring at the floor. "I'd do anything if he'd just like me back, but he doesn't."
"So… change that," suggested Watts. "Make him like you."
Julia scoffed. "Right, because I can make him like me." She blinked, her face clearing. "Unless…" She glanced at Watts' potions textbook. "May I?"
He rummaged around in his bag and passed it to her.
She skimmed through the book, searching hard. Her finger stabbed at a point on the page. "Here we go," she said.
Watts skirted around behind her, peeking over her shoulder. "Amortentia, the most powerful love potion of all?" Realisation dawned on him. "You're not saying—"
She slammed the book shut, her cheeks bright red. "Of course not!" She shoved the book back into his hands. "That's insane. Where would I even get Amortentia?"
Watts paused. "What if I knew somewhere?"
"What do you mean?" Her eyes were huge.
Watts sucked in a breath. "Last week, Professor Snape made me stay behind after class to clean up. I spotted a vial of Amortentia in the cabinet. I have Potions again tomorrow morning."
"You're going to steal it?"
"I never thought Slytherins were against that sort of thing."
Julia paused, turning it over in her head. "No," she said definitively. "We'd get in trouble."
"Didn't you just say you'd do anything to get him to like you?"
Julia sucked in a breath. "Alright, look." She glanced at the floor. "I have my first period free tomorrow. I can distract Snape for you if you'll get the bottle."
Watts blinked. "Deal." He knew it probably didn't make sense for him to help her. They should be at odds with each other. They both liked the same guy.
Watts sighed. It wasn't as if he had a chance anyway. But Julia did.
Who knows, he thought. Maybe helping her would help me get over him.
The two of them locked eyes. With one look, they had made a pact. They were in this together.
When George blinked awake, he was lying on a bed looking up at a familiar, grey ceiling. The Hospital Wing. Right. I crashed the broom. He felt like he'd just been run over by a stampede of giants. He shifted. He was propped up by a pile of pillows. "Ow."
"You're a bloody idiot, Crabtree." Brackenreid popped into his field of vision, leaning against the bed.
"I couldn't agree more." Madam Pomfrey materialized at his bedside, shaking her head. "You're lucky Mr. Brackenreid was here to cast the cushioning charm, or else you might be at St. Mungo's in a full body cast drinking through a straw."
There was a sharp, painful crick in George's back that wouldn't go away no matter how he twisted himself. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Don't apologize to me," Madam Pomfrey tutted. She shook her head again as she left the side of the bed.
Thomas sat down on the foot of his bed. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Like a snowman that started to melt and then froze again."
Chuckling, Thomas plucked a ball of fuzz from the blanket and flicked it away. "Considering you collided with the ground at terminal velocity from fifty feet in the air, sounds like you're doing okay."
"Thanks," said Crabtree. "For casting that spell."
Brackenreid let out a breath. "What else was I supposed to do? Watch you kill yourself?"
George looked down. "Is Madam Hooch mad?"
Thomas pressed a finger to his lips. "As far as Hooch is concerned, you fell down a staircase." He let out a breath, his smile waning slightly. "How come you didn't pull up?"
George shrugged, his face growing hot. "I don't know, I just didn't. I guess I forgot."
Thomas folded his arms. "You forgot, huh? That's what happened?"
"Yup. I forgot."
"Really?" Thomas smirked. "Because, from where I was standing, it looked an awful lot like you got distracted by a pretty little lady in the Quidditch stands."
His cheeks burned. "I wasn't— It wasn't like that! I wasn't staring at her in a creepy way! I just— I'd never seen her before."
"You didn't look at me like that when we first met." Thomas playfully elbowed him. "You like her, don't you?"
George glared at him, crossing his arms. "I like everyone."
Thomas laughed, clapping his hands. "Crabtree's in love!" he sang.
"Shut up!" George punched him in the arm. "I'm not…" He bit his lip, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm not in love. I just—" He paused. "I just think she's pretty, that's all."
"That's how these things start, Bugalugs." Thomas flashed him a toothy smile. "Welcome to the world of romance."
George rolled his eyes. "It's not romance!" He protested. "At most it's aesthetic attraction! I just think she's a very good looking person!"
"Well, you're in luck," Thomas pushed himself off of the bed smirking. "There'll be plenty of that 'aesthetic attraction' for you at Julia's party." He wiggled a pair of finger quotes in the air.
"What do you mean?"
"That girl? Her name is Emily Grace, and she's pretty much Julia Ogden's little Slytherin sister." He fiddled with his wand. "Julia's bound to invite her."
"What?" Crabtree's face went white. His mind raced. She'll be at the party, and I'll be at the party, and she saw me crash and— "I can't!" He gasped.
Thomas stared at him with a frown. "You can't what?"
"I can't go to the party!" George gripped the blankets of the bed between two tight fists. "She saw me crash! I can't talk to her! I can't be in the same room as her! I can't look at her ever again!"
"Oh, that's right, I forgot you're still in that 'everyone is constantly judging me' phase in your life." Thomas ruffled his hair. "Trust me, Bugalugs: she won't care. Ten to one she won't even realize it was you."
"Were you on the Quidditch pitch yesterday?"
George bit his lip. She realized it was me, Brackenreid. He sat at a table in the library, and it took all of his impulse control not to stick his head in a huge book and slam the cover closed.
Emily Grace stood in front of him. Her hair was loose today. She hadn't done up the clasp on her robes and her stockings bunched up at the knees. Her wand was tucked behind her ear. She had a fine sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks. "Were you?"
"I—" George sputtered, slamming his book closed. Pretend you don't speak English! "I was—"
"You were!" She beamed. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" Her shoes tapped with excitement. She straightened her robes, brushing off her skirt. "I just want to say, your flying is amazing."
George blinked. "I— what?"
"You were amazing! I saw you! You were zooming through the air like, like, like…" Her face screwed up in thought. "Well, I don't know what you were like, but it was so cool!" She motioned to the seat across from him. "May I?"
He nodded.
She slid into the chair, plopping her arms on the table. "So, what position do you play?"
"Position?"
"Yeah, on the Quidditch team."
"I'm not on the Quidditch team." He wiped his clammy palms against the leg of his pants. "I'm only a first year."
If possible, her enormous eyes widened even more. "You're kidding."
He shrugged. "Nope."
"Wow." She leaned back in her chair. "You were so good yesterday, I thought you had to be older."
"Well," he grinned awkwardly. "I'm… not." He resisted the urge to slap himself. You're a mess, George Crabtree. "I'm just a first year. Hufflepuff." He glanced down at his yellow-lined robes, yellow tie, and yellow scarf. "But I guess you could tell that."
She giggled. "Me too! I mean I'm a first year, I'm not in Hufflepuff. I'm a Slytherin," she said. Her cheeks flushed a pleasant, rose petal pink. "That's sort of obvious, I'm sorry."
He waved his hands at her. "Don't apologize! Besides, it's my fault." He cringed. "Not your fault because you didn't do anything wrong. I'm the problem, it's me." His face burned as he sucked in a breath. "This is awkward."
She nodded, instantly flushing bright red. "No! I didn't mean— you're not awkward, I'm awkward." She brushed her hair out of her face, sucking in her cheeks. "I'm a mess, I'm sorry."
"I think you're perfect…" George's eyes widened. "...ly… not a… mess." Why did he say that? There was some circuit linking his brain with his mouth that wasn't firing properly. He shoved his hand across the table, not meeting her eye. "George Crabtree."
"I know," she said. "Not that I'm stalking you or anything, Julia just talks about you a lot. Not like a lot a lot, just… sometimes..." She grabbed his hand, looking down at the piles of books on the table. "Emily Grace."
They shook hands.
Neither of them moved, their hands intertwined, the feel of her smooth palms against his…
Their eyes met.
In unison, they both turned every shade of red, pulling their arms back. George tucked his hand in his armpit and Emily sat on hers.
"So, do you like it?" she asked.
"What?" His gaze shot up in alarm.
"Hufflepuff," she explained hurriedly, her eyes huge. "You like it in Hufflepuff?"
He nodded, sighing with relief. "Yeah, Hufflepuff's great. Do you like Slytherin?"
She nodded. "I do." She smirked. "Well, I mean, there are some annoying kids, I guess Slytherin probably has more annoying kids than Hufflepuff does, not because we're evil, but because, um, you know?" She gestured vaguely. "Slytherin." Smiling apologetically, she continued. "But I know how to deal with annoying kids." She raised up one hand and punched it with the other.
George leaned back slightly. "Do you really punch them?"
She blushed. "Sometimes."
"Wow." She was so cool. Why was she even still talking to George?
"But I guess that's not really the Hufflepuff style."
He laughed. "No, the Hufflepuff style is more like apologizing to the annoying kids for finding them annoying."
She giggled, gazing at her shoes. "Are you going to the party?" she asked softly.
"I guess," he said. "I didn't exactly RSVP, but it's not like I have anything else to do." He glanced at her. "Are you going?"
She nodded quickly. "Julia would kill me if I missed it."
There was silence.
Under the table, George's thumbs twirled around each other nervously. Don't let the conversation die. Give her a sincere compliment. Nothing too insane, you don't want to freak her out. "I like your shirt!" YOU IDIOT. SHE'S WEARING THE SAME SHIRT AS YOU.
"Thanks! It's, uh, just the uniform."
George figured after this, he should go off, dig a hole, crawl in it, and call it home for the rest of his days.
She twirled her hair around her finger. "So the library, huh? Do you like books?"
He shrugged. "Not these kinds," he said, pushing away the Charms and Potions textbooks.
"So, what kind?"
His shoulders touched his ears. "You wouldn't like them."
"Yes, I would!" Emily leapt up, her chair screeching behind her. "I want to know, please tell me!"
"Well," he scratched the back of his neck. "They're sort of like fantasy, but sort of like paranormal stuff, they're also a little bit of science fiction…"
Her eyes widened. "Like aliens?"
He stared at her. "Exactly like aliens."
She grinned. "So you believe there's life on other planets too?"
"Of course! It only makes sense!"
Emily Grace was like no one George had ever met before. He felt, for the first time ever, maybe, that he had met a kindred spirit. All his other friends were his opposite in some way, but talking to Emily was like talking to his carbon copy. His whole life had been a never-ending guessing game, trying to figure out which things about him were endearing and which were concerning and weird, but now, with Emily, he was talking to someone who truly understood him for the first time. He'd been shuffling through a life where everyone else was waltzing and he had just met someone else who knew how to Charleston. They talked for what seemed like hours, whizzing between topics at a dizzying speed, ranging from aliens to Potions class to beavers.
They were so alike, it was almost scary. They thought alike, they talked alike, they both even wore their scarves inside, even when it wasn't cold.
If this was what being in love felt like, George didn't mind it.
She glanced at the clock. "Oh!" she blinked. "I better go, I, uh, I have to go." She smiled, standing up. "Bye," she said, waving. "See you at the party."
George raised his hand slowly. "Bye…"
Julia took a deep breath. She stared at the open Potions room door, watching the piles of Ravenclaws pouring out of the classroom.
I shouldn't be doing this, she thought. This is exactly what everyone thinks you're about to do. You're just being a dirty thieving Slytherin.
Her chest felt like it was about to explode as the crowd of students thinned out. Through the open door, she caught Watts' gaze.
Here goes nothing. She stepped inside. "Professor Snape!"
Snape, sitting at his desk, glanced up. "Ogden," he said. "What a pleasant surprise."
Julia gulped. "I'm just wondering if you thought about my invitation."
Watts shuffled around the room.
Snape glanced at Watts. "I have," he said. "I'm afraid I must decline."
"Oh, why?"
Watts pretended to drop his wand and stooped down to pick it up.
"I'm afraid I'm not one for parties." Snape sniffed, rising from his desk. "Watts!" he snapped. "Why are you still here?"
Watts fumbled around on his hands and knees. "I've, er, misplaced my wand, professor."
"Of course you have." Snape rolled his eyes.
"Oh, but Professor!" Julia slid into Snape's field of view. "I've told all my friends you'll be there, and they're so looking forward to it."
"That there is a bold-faced lie, Ogden and you know it." Snape scowled. "I don't know why you are so set on having me at your party, Ogden, but know this." He held up a reprimanding finger. "If inviting me is simply a plan to have me ridiculed by you and that gang of ragamuffins you call your friends, I'll have you scrubbing trophies in the artefact room for a month, understood?"
Julia nodded. "Of course, sir. I'd never dream of ridiculing you, sir."
There came a loud crash from the back of the room. Watts stood in the middle of a pile of smashed vials and bottles, holding his wand with wide eyes. "Um…" He wet his lips. "Professor?"
Snape closed his eyes, silently seething. "Yes?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"I may have broken a few potion bottles."
Julia buried her face in her hands.
"Get out!" ordered Snape. "Both of you! And Watts? You're staying after class and helping me brew replacements for all those potions!"
"For how long, sir?"
Snape flew into a fury. "For as long as it takes! Now get out before I stuff you both into a cauldron!"
As the door slammed behind them, Julia and Watts exchanged a pained look.
"Sorry." Watts scratched the back of his head. "I'm a bit clumsy."
"It's all right," sighed Julia. "I didn't expect you to get the potion anyways."
"Welp," Watts sucked in a breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a vial. "I am sorry to disappoint, but—"
"You got it?" Julia gasped, snatching the bottle from his hands. The liquid inside was beautiful, a gorgeous white with a sheen like a pearl. "Oh my goodness, Watts, you're incredible!" She wrapped her arms around him in a suffocating hug.
"Oh! I'm…" Watts didn't know how to react, so he stood there like an awkward fencepost. "You're welcome?"
Julia blushed, releasing him. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much."
"Now all that's left is to administer the potion," said Watts.
Julia nodded. "We'll have to wait until the party tomorrow," she said. "Then we'll spike his punch."
William scrunched up his piece of parchment into a ball and promptly set it on fire. He sighed, flicking his wand and vanishing the flaming hunk of paper and rested his head on the table in front of him.
"— all right, you were right, I didn't need to worry—" George Crabtree's voice entered the library, earning a sharp Shh! from Madam Pince the librarian.
"Oof." Brackenreid slid into the seat across from Murdoch. "Finally broke down, eh, Murdoch?"
"Are you okay?" asked George, taking the seat beside William.
William sat up, straightening his tie. "I'm all right," he said.
"What are you doing?" Brackenreid raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing. Studying."
"Which is it?"
"Both." Murdoch stared at him pointedly. He glanced at George. "Are you alright? I heard you were in the Hospital Wing."
Laughing, George waved his hand. "We don't need to talk about that…"
"Casanova here dove straight into the ground because he saw a pretty girl," said Thomas.
George shot Thomas a glare.
"Ouch." William grimaced. "You sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," George said. Something caught his eye on the floor. He bent over, picking up a crumpled ball of parchment, straightening it out.
"No wait!" Murdoch yelped, but too late.
George's eyes widened as he read the note. "Do you like me? Yes, no, maybe." He glanced at Murdoch. "Did you write this?"
Murdoch snatched the note, stuffing it in his pocket. "No! I… I didn't!"
Brackenreid chuckled. "More importantly, did you seriously think that was going to work on a girl?"
"I didn't!" Hissed William with a glare. "That's why that one was on the floor!"
Thomas laughed. "No offense, but I think Crabtree here has more game than you, and he almost killed himself in front of his crush."
"Stop it," said George, shooting Brackenreid a glare. "We should handle this in a more mature way." His face broke out in a huge grin. "Does this mean you're in love?" He giggled.
Murdoch sucked in a breath. "Not that it's any of your business," he said. "But I was going to try to ask Julia out on a date at the party tonight."
George gasped, bringing a hand to his face to hide his excited grin.
"Called it," smirked Brackenreid.
Murdoch sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring hopelessly up at the ceiling. "I can't do this," he said. "I can't ask her out."
"Sure you can," said George. "I mean, look at you! You're a real catch! At least a seven!"
Murdoch stared at him. "Only a seven? Really?"
George shrugged. "Give or take seven point five- OW!" he yelped as Brackenreid kicked him in the shin from under the table.
"Ignore him," said Thomas. "Going by looks alone, Murdoch, you're at least an eight. And you've got the extra style points, so that boosts you to a solid eight and a half." He waved his hand. "But numbers aren't important. Love isn't some equation that you can just plug numbers into. Love isn't math, it's a science."
"But—"
"Look," Brackenreid straightened his back. "I'm going to help you, both of you. I'll be like your big brother who knows more than both of you combined. You," he pointed at Murdoch. "Need to be at least thirty percent more charming. You," he looked to George. "You need a full makeover, because this—" He gestured vaguely. "Is not going to cut it."
George glanced in confusion at his robes.
"Crabtree, you need class, Murdoch, you need social skills, and I need to help you."
"You really don't have to."
"Yes, I do." Brackenreid rolled his eyes. "All you two do is talk and think." He pointed to George and Murdoch in that order. "I'm the only one who gets things done."
"Have you even asked Margaret out yet?" mumbled George.
Brackenreid kicked him again. "Do you want my help or do you want to die alone?"
"Sorry." George looked down. "I'll shut up now."
"Alright then." Brackenreid rolled up his sleeves. "Let's make you two irresistible."
Julia took a deep breath. Dungeon Number Sixteen never looked so nice, with pink, red and white streamers strung up around the ceiling, arrangements of roses on either end of the snack table, and she'd conjured up a few pleasant golden orbs of light that were suspended in the air.
A knock at the door made her jump.
"Am I early?" Watts' head poked into the doorway.
Julia breathed a sigh of relief. "Watts," she said, rushing over. "Thank goodness you're here. I need you to put the potion in William's punch." She pressed the vial into his hands.
He glanced at the bottle in confusion. "Why?"
"I can't!" Her fingers fiddled with her hair. "I can't do it!" She bit her lip. "What if he sees me and I can't think of a good excuse? What if my hands are shaking and I spill? What if—"
"All right." Watts held up his hands. "I'll do it."
Beaming, Julia started wrapping her arms around him in a hug, but, remembering his reaction to her last hug, she stopped herself. "Thank you, Watts!" She brushed her hair behind her ear. "You're really the best accomplice anyone could ask for."
Watts did a little bow. "I do what I can," he said. He gestured towards her outfit. "You look… good, by the way. Very elegant."
Julia grinned. "You really think so?" She twirled around. She had ditched her school uniform for a flowy blush pink skirt and a lacy white top. Her usually frizzy blonde hair was styled into neat, delicate ringlets.
He nodded. "If I was attracted to girls," he said. "I'd definitely find you attractive." His eyes widened, and he clapped his hand to his mouth. "I mean, uuuuhhhhhh…." Panic, panic, panic, panic…
She laughed. "It's all right," she said. "I sort of figured."
Watts scratched his head. "Is it that obvious?"
"No," smiled Julia. "I'm just more perceptive than most." Her face lost all expression and she stared at him with deep intensity. "Sport coats make boys instantly attractive, right?"
He nodded solemnly.
"You get it." Julia giggled. "Thanks again for all your help," she smiled. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this!"
Watts smiled. Helping Julia hadn't exactly cured him of his feelings for William Murdoch, but seeing her so happy definitely made him happy. He could let go of his feelings for her sake. He'd find some other boy. There were plenty of fish in the sea. He could do this.
Thomas Brackenreid and William Murdoch stood outside the door to the Hufflepuff Common Room, looking very sharp in their dress robes. Brackenreid leaned against the wall while Murdoch inspected a stack of barrels by the door.
"Would you stop that?" Brackenreid said. "If you tap it wrong, it'll spray vinegar at us."
"I'm not tapping it," said Murdoch. "I'm just studying it. It's fascinating that something so simple has kept Hufflepuff secure for so long."
"Are you rehearsing what I told you to say?"
William nodded. He straightened his back. "First I tell her that she looks beautiful, then I invite her to dance. While we're dancing, I will say to her: Julia, I love you more than anyone else in the world. Would you do me the honour of going on a date with me?"
"Don't forget about the most important part."
"Right." Murdoch cleared his throat. "While we're dancing, before I ask her, I will sniff her hair."
Thomas nodded. "That's the secret," he said. "Every girl loves being sniffed."
The door cracked open, and George Crabtree's head popped out. "I'm not sure about this one," he said. "I think it's a bit too big."
"Come out and let us see, Crabtree," ordered Brackenreid.
George stepped out, wearing a set of starchy, deep purple robes with gold lining. He was absolutely swamped in violet fabric, the long cut of the robes completely swallowing him whole.
Brackenreid had to stifle a laugh. "Looks great on you, Crabtree," he said, suppressing a fit of giggles. "Very smart."
"I look like I'm wearing a tent," said George.
"That's what a wand is for," Brackenreid smirked, flicking his wand. "Reducio!"
George sucked in a breath as the robes shrunk, getting tighter and tighter until it was like a vice around his ribs. The hem of the robes, which had been dragging on the floor, now stretched around George's knees. The sleeves, which had drooped halfway past his waist, were halfway between his wrist and elbow, the cuffs squeezing his blood vessels shut.
Murdoch and Brackenreid took one look at him and burst out laughing.
The garment was still trying to shrink further, and the only thing stopping it was George himself. He had to gasp to get any air at all. "I can't breathe! Make it big, make it big, make it big!"
"Oi, relax, Crabtree," chuckled Thomas, waving his wand.
The robes popped back to their previous size.
George heaved for a few seconds to catch his breath.
"Maybe try the other set of robes," said Murdoch.
George rolled his eyes, slipping back inside the Hufflepuff Common Room. A minute or two later, he poked his head out again. "This one fits better," he said. "But I don't know if it looks good." He stepped out.
Murdoch and Brackenreid's eyebrows rose.
"What?" asked George. "Does it look bad?"
Thomas shushed him. "This is the one," he said.
"Are you sure?" George glanced down at his outfit. "I look like a junior Minister for Magic."
"Not with that hair you don't." Brackenreid produced a comb out of his back pocket.
George's hands flew to his scalp. "Don't—"
"Don't worry." Thomas grabbed his wrist and moved his hand away. He stuck the comb into George's messy hair and tugged at the tangles.
"Ow!" George pulled away. "That hurts!"
"Crabtree." Brackenreid gripped George's shoulders, staring right into his brown eyes. "Do you want this girl to like you?"
"Yes, but—"
"Well, sometimes, to get the things we want, we have to do things differently."
George sucked in his cheeks. "I have to change into someone more… likeable?"
Murdoch frowned.
"It's not about changing," Brackenreid squinted. "It's about… learning."
George pursed his lips, glancing at the floor. "Okay." He said. "Go ahead."
Emily Grace sipped a glass of raspberry punch. The taste tingled in her mouth. Her chest felt fluttery, her fingers curling and uncurling. Her underarms felt damp and she kept her arms locked by her side to make sure no one could see any puddles on her clothes.
She shouldn't have come early. She normally came early to things because the only way to ensure that she wasn't late was to arrive early. But now she was just a simmering pot of anxiety.
Stop freaking out, she told herself. No one likes a nutcase. Stop freaking out. She glanced at Julia, who was talking to that Ravenclaw, Watts. Why does everyone call him Watts? That's his last name, right? What even is his first name?
She gulped down the last drops of her punch. The taste began unbearably sweet but slowly fizzled out. She let out a breath. Her eyes met the clock on the wall. Early was steadily turning into on time. The others would be here any minute now. George Crabtree would be here any minute now.
She gulped down the fluttery feeling in her chest and forced herself to take a deep breath. He's just a boy. Relax.
She glanced at the punch bowl, pouring herself another glass. She needed all the help she could get.
The dungeon door opened and in walked Thomas, William and George.
Julia blinked. "Wow."
"What?" Watts turned his head.
Brackenreid led the pack, wearing a set of deep red robes, his hair neatly combed back. George followed him, looking like a smaller replica, the same cut and colour of robes, the same hairstyle, even the same walk. He moved with great focus, like he was thinking hard about every step.
William Murdoch was wearing a set of sea blue robes, draped over a dapper suit. His hair was combed in his usual style, but he wore a neat, navy blue bow tie.
Oh no, thought Watts. He's hot.
Julia's eyes were wide, her face flushed bright red. She met Watt's gaze, mouthing oh my gosh to him. She leaned in closer. "I thought he looked good before," she hissed.
Watts smiled, nervously twiddling his thumbs. "You distract him while I get the potion?" he asked.
She sucked in a breath, nodding. "Okay. Wish me luck." She smoothed down her skirt.
"Good luck," said Watts as she walked over to Murdoch with a smile. He moved towards the punch bowl.
Wow, he thought with a smirk. William Murdoch cleans up nicely. Watts uncapped the potion vial. Not that he needed to clean up at all.
He paused, catching a whiff of the Amortentia. He'd read that Amortentia was supposed to smell different for everyone. It was supposed to smell like things you loved. To Watts, it smelled of freshly baked pretzels, red grapes and something that smelled a bit like parchment with a hint of pepperoni or salami. He smiled. Whatever the smell was, he liked it.
Curls of white smoke pulled up out of the potion bottle. He picked up a glass, dipping it in the punch bowl to fill it up, only realizing after that there was a ladle for that very purpose. He took the vial, tipping its contents into the cup of punch. It turned the punch a light pink, several obvious shades off from the vermillion red it was before. Watts stirred it with his finger until the colour looked almost right. He shoved the bottle into his pocket, picked up the glass, and walked over to Murdoch.
"... It makes no sense," William was saying to Julia. "Why even bother with locks if we have a spell to unlock them?"
"Well," Julia said. "There's the Alohomora Counter spell. Then unlocking the lock magically wouldn't work."
William groaned. "Don't get me started on the Anti-Alohomora charm."
Watts joined them. "Hullo," he said. "Care for a glass of punch?" He held it out to William.
"Oh, hi, Watts," said Murdoch. He glanced at Julia, gesturing towards the glass. "Have some punch, Julia. I'll go get one myself."
Julia held up her hands. "Oh, no," she said, laughing nervously. "I've already had plenty."
Shrugging, William picked up the glass.
Watts and Julia both held their breath as he raised it to his lips and took a sip. He swallowed.
Julia stared at him. "How does it taste?" she asked.
He glanced at her. "Fine. It's a bit sweet."
"It, uh, doesn't taste… off to you?" asked Watts, scratching the back of his head.
"No." Murdoch frowned. "Should it?"
Watts cleared his throat. "Not at all."
Julia shot him a confused glance.
He shrugged slightly.
William glanced at both of them suspiciously.
Watts sucked in a breath. "I'll go, um… polish the… tablecloth." He shuffled away towards the table.
William watched him leave.
A minute later, Julia appeared at his side. "He doesn't seem that interested," she said. "Do you think the potion's a dud?"
Watts shrugged. "Maybe it takes a while to work?"
Julia looked across the room at William.
He was staring back in their direction, but not at her. He was looking slightly to her left, a little bit higher than her eye level.
"Oh no."
"What?" asked Watts. "What is it?"
Julia sighed. "It worked."
William was grinning like a two-year old, a dreamy, faraway look in his eye.
She pointed at William. "He's definitely in love."
Watts glanced where she was pointing, jumping a little when he noticed William's stare. William giggled, waving at him. Watts paled. "With me?"
Nodding grimly, Julia slapped herself on the forehead. "Of course," she said. "You gave him the potion, of course he'd be in love with you. I should have known."
Biting his lip, Watts tried to look away from Murdoch, but snuck occasional glances to see if he was still staring at him. He was. "What should we do?"
Julia thought hard. "You stay here and humour him." She sighed. "I'll go to the library and see if I can find some kind of counter spell or antidote."
Watts nodded and she ran off. Right, he thought. Humour him. That should be fun. He turned to William and jumped in surprise. While he wasn't looking, Murdoch had snuck up behind him. "Hi," gasped Watts, putting on a fake smile.
William smiled at him. He looked pale. "You have gorgeous eyes," he said in a dreamy voice.
Watts' eyes widened, his smile still plastered onto his face. "Thank you," he said through gritted teeth.
William reached out his hand, slapping it on top of Watts' head, feeling his hair. "Is your hair naturally curly?"
"Yes."
"Wow," William breathed, stroking Watts' head lovingly. "It's like you have a sheep on your head."
"Uh huh." Watts breathed through gritted teeth.
"Do you dance?"
"Um, no. Not really."
William looked momentarily disappointed, but quickly smiled again. "I can teach you." He grabbed Watts' wrist. "I'm very good."
He was supposed to humour him, but Watts decided to put his foot down on that front. "That's fine," he said. "I don't dance."
William gave a resigned sigh. "
Brackenreid slid George a glass of punch. "You ready?" he asked.
George took a tentative sip. "I thought I was," he said. "But now I'm not sure." He glanced quickly across the room where Emily was sitting alone, hurriedly turning away when she looked his way.
"Hey." Thomas gripped George's shoulders. "You look fantastic. You've got the walk down. You just need to act cool." He picked up his glass and took a sip. "Don't come on too strong or you'll freak her out."
George nodded. "Okay."
"You aren't dying to be with her because you have a life without her. Make her want that life with you."
George blinked. "Wow," he said. "That's actually inspiring." He bit his lip. "But what if I say the wrong thing?"
"Just…" Brackenreid paused. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. You'll be fine." Thomas smiled, pointing discreetly behind him. "Go on," he said. "Get the girl."
"Thanks," breathed George. "You're the best." He took a deep breath, then sauntered over to her. Thomas had instructed him to walk with a wide stance and to swing his arms. George felt like he was walking with a possum in his pants, but he'd do anything to make him less of a disaster.
He walked up behind Emily and cleared his throat. "Hey," he said.
She turned around, blinking. "Oh!" she smiled. "Hi, George." She wore a light pink dress which clashed somewhat with the Slytherin scarf she still had tied around her neck.
Keep it cool, George Crabtree. Do what Brackenreid would do. "Nice weather you're wearing." He cringed. It took all of his self control not to punch himself in the face.
"Uh," she glanced at her outfit. "Thanks." She grinned. "This is exciting, huh? A real, actual party!"
"Oh, yeah." George waved his hand. "I get invited to these all the time, though. They aren't that cool." He glanced across the room at Brackenreid who gave him a thumbs up. He sucked in a breath. This wasn't so hard. It was like acting in a play. Play the role, George.
Emily tucked her hair behind her ear. "Julia said there would be a surprise," she said. "What do you think it is?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, come on, don't you at least have a guess? Like aliens, or an ancient curse or something?"
He shrugged. "Maybe confetti?"
She deflated slightly. "Yeah, that's… probably it."
They stood awkwardly in silence for a while.
"I, uh, I like your robes." Emily gestured to his ensemble. "It's really… fancy. Do you always dress up for parties?"
"Oh yeah." He laughed. "I think it's important to look your best, you know? It's important to make an effort to look nice." George was proud of himself. He was doing an excellent job at playing the role.
"Oh." She glanced at the floor. "Do you want to dance or something?"
George paused. The room was suddenly very hot. "Uh…" Does Brackenreid dance? He peeked at Brackenreid, shooting him a distressed look. He smiled nervously at Emily. "Would you excuse me for a second?"
Before she could respond, he had bolted across the room.
Sprinting down the dungeon corridors, Julia nearly knocked over a couple of house elves on their way to the kitchens. "Sorry!" she cried over her shoulder.
A Hufflepuff yelped and ducked out of her way on the staircase. Outside the Great Hall, two young Gryffindors smirked, sticking their legs out to trip her. Rolling her eyes, Julia hurdled over their legs. She glanced behind her with a triumphant look, onto to crash at full speed into something soft. Whatever it was, the force of the impact knocked them both to the ground.
The hallway fell deathly silent.
Julia sat up, a little dazed to suddenly find herself on the floor. She glanced down, trying to figure out what she had crashed into, paling as she realized it wasn't a what but a who.
The person on the floor was a pile of black robes. The only part of them she could see that wasn't swathed in black fabric was their very angry face, framed with several strands of greasy black hair.
"What," asked Professor Snape, his voice gradually rising in a steady crescendo until it was an ear piercing scream. "Is the MEANING OF THIS?"
"Professor, I'm so sorry!" Julia rushed to help the professor to his feet. "I wasn't looking where I was going!"
Snape ignored her helping hand, struggling to his feet on his own, narrowly avoiding slipping on the hem of his robes. "Ogden," he seethed through gritted teeth. "I thought you were having a party tonight."
"I am—"
"Then what, may I ask, are you doing barreling through the corridors like a MAD BULL?"
Julia flushed bright red. "Nothing," she said. "I just forgot… the biscuits."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "You forgot the biscuits," he repeated. "And that is why you are running away from the kitchens and the Slytherin dorms where you would logically be keeping biscuits?"
Julia sucked in a breath. "Yes."
Snape crossed his arms. "Does this perhaps have anything to do with the missing bottle of love potion from my cabinet?"
Julia's silence was all the answer he needed.
"Come with me, Ogden."
Brackenreid sipped a glass of punch as George barreled into him. "Whoa!"
"Do you dance?" asked George quickly.
"What?"
"Do you dance? You said not to do anything you wouldn't do, do you dance?"
"Not this early in the evening. You have to make her want to dance."
"I am an idiot!" hissed Crabtree, running around in circles.
"What makes you say that?" Brackenreid swallowed. "I mean, I agree, but why?"
George was red in the face. "This is all wrong!" he cried. "She thinks I'm crazy!"
Thomas looked across the room. "I wouldn't be so sure," he said. "Look."
Emily stole a glance at George, sitting alone in the corner, swinging her feet back and forth.
"See?" said Brackenreid. "She's practically begging for your attention."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah." Thomas pushed him away. "Keep it up."
George took a breath, regaining his mojo. "Right. Thanks." He took off.
Thomas snatched a cupcake from the snack table, admiring the delicate swirl of pink icing.
William Murdoch all but ran into him.
"Oi!" Thomas protected his cupcake, making sure it didn't fall. "Watch where you're running, Murdoch." He took a bite. The cupcake was pleasantly sweet, with strawberry jelly running through the middle. "Whoa," he said, getting a good look at Murdoch's face. "You alright?"
William looked terribly stressed out about something, with a pale face, clammy hands and a faint sheen of sweat. He gripped his wand in his hand. "Do you think my hair's working?" he asked.
"...What?"
"Should I change it?" William flicked his wand, and his hair poofed up into fiery red curls. "What do you think?"
The sight took all words from Thomas' mouth.
"You hate it."
"Very much so."
William groaned, waving his wand, his hair falling back to its normal appearance. "I just want to show some personal style." He pocketed his wand. "Watts has such great style, you know? I don't want him to think I'm a slob."
His eyebrows flying into his hairline, Thomas glanced across the room where Watts sat hunched over a cupcake.
Watts ripped off the bottom half of the cupcake sandwiched it on top of the icing before taking a bite. A glob of pink icing dropped out from the middle and landed on Watts' tie. He scooped it up with his finger and stuck it back on the cupcake before taking another bite.
"I'm sorry, you don't want him to think you're a slob?" Thomas asked incredulously.
"I just really want Watts to like me, you know? I want him to think I'm cool and that I have good style and everything."
"Since when have you cared what anyone thinks of you, let alone Watts?"
"He's just…" William sighed, at a loss for words. "He's so unafraid to be himself, you know? And I really want him to like me."
Thomas squinted, started to say something, reconsidered, then said it anyway. "You… you seem like you're sort of into him."
"What do you mean, 'into him?'"
"Well—" Brackenreid was dumbfounded. Maybe he had encouraged Murdoch too much in the romance department? "What about Julia?"
William waved his hand dismissively. "Julia is cool, but Watts is just…" He waved his hands. "Gah! He's incredible."
"If you say so." In Brackenreid's opinion, he'd always found Watts to be a bit of a nutter.
William's eyes widened, and he gasped, hiding under a nearby table. "He's coming!"
Staring at him, Brackenreid shook his head. "What on earth's the matter with you?"
Watts approached. "Where did Murdoch go?" he asked without greeting Thomas.
Murdoch's hand shot out from under the table, whacking Brackenreid's calf. "Tell him I'm not here," he hissed.
Thomas rolled his eyes, sighing. "He's not here," he deadpanned.
Watts nodded, walking around him and lifting up the tablecloth.
William's pupils dilated. "Hi, Watts," he said, his voice low, almost seductive.
"Hi."
"Wait one second." William pulled the tablecloth back down. From underneath, his muffled voice said a spell. He lifted it up again. "Here," he said, holding out a bouquet of roses. "For you."
"Thanks." Watts took them. He raised them to his nose and sniffed. "They're… nice."
William beamed, his eyes remaining wide open.
Brackenreid stared at them, certain they'd lost their minds. "Alrighty," he blinked. "I'm going to go check on Crabtree." He took a step backwards. "Have fun you two, I guess?" He walked off.
The dungeon doors crashed open, and Professor Snape marched in, followed by a sheepish Julia Ogden. He took one look at Murdoch and sighed deeply.
William was petting Watts' curls again, occasionally pressing his nose to his hair and taking a deep sniff.
Snape strolled across the room, grumbling to himself. Dumbledore's protection wasn't worth this. He grabbed Murdoch by the back of his collar and dragged him into a corner.
Murdoch protested loudly. "Watts! Watts!" He struggled.
"Shut up, Murdoch, you buffoon!" Snape gripped the boy's collar harder. "You see?" he turned to Julia. "This is why the use of love potions is banned at Hogwarts."
Julia's face was bright red, and she stared hard at her shoes.
Murdoch broke free, sprinting back over to Watts and embracing him in a suffocating hug. "Watts!" he cried, holding him at arm's length. "I love you." He closed his eyes, leaning closer, and closer…
Panicked, Watts shoved him to the ground. His hands moved without his say so, but he was so grateful they did. "Sorry," he breathed. "But no."
Snape snatched Murdoch off of the floor. "Here," he said, handing him a small vial. "Drink it."
William stared at Watts with wide, heartbroken eyes. Tears spilled down his cheeks. "W-Watts?" he gasped.
Watts looked apologetic. "Sorry, Murdoch," he said. "You're not my type."
Murdoch burst into tears.
"Alright, that's enough of that." Snape rolled his eyes, shoving the potion bottle into Murdoch's mouth and tipping his head backwards so the liquid would run down. "There we go," he said, dropping William and brushing his hands. He straightened his spine, walked to the door and glanced over his shoulder. "Ogden," he said. "I'm taking one hundred points from Slytherin. Come with me, we have to discuss your punishment with the Headmaster." With that, he left, his robes billowing dramatically behind him.
Julia followed him with her head bowed.
On the floor, William coughed, blinking. "What in the world—?" He sat up. The colour had returned to his cheeks, the look of madness subsiding with every second.
Watts looked down at him, hesitantly offering his hand to help him to his feet.
Murdoch rose, a bit unsteadily, holding his head. "What happened?" he asked shakily.
Watts blinked. He couldn't get the image of Murdoch leaning forward, puckering up, out of his mind. "I'm not sure you want to know," he said after a brief pause.
William frowned. "But—"
Watts shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug. "Ask Julia if you really want to know. I don't really want to think about this ever again." He smirked. "Thanks, though."
"For what?"
Watts grinned. "You've just helped me get over a crush, is all." And he was, in fact, over it. He didn't think it was possible to see someone like that and still be attracted to them.
William grabbed Watts' before he could walk off to the snack table. "Watts," he said. "I… I don't remember very much, but I think…" He paused, flushing pink. "Did I— did I try to—?"
Watts interrupted him. "You didn't." He said. "At least, it wasn't you."
"But—"
"I'd really rather forget about it, actually."
"Right, sorry. And, really, Watts—" he looked into Watts' eyes. "I'm sorry for anything I did… or might have done." He rubbed his temples. Watts figured he probably had a heck of a headache.
"It's alright," said Watts. "It wasn't your fault." It was partially his own fault, but Watts wouldn't say anything about that.
Murdoch nodded, holding his head. "I think I'm going to turn in early for the night," he said. "Can you tell Julia?"
Watts nodded. "I can't imagine she'd be surprised."
William left with a confused look on his face, trying to work out exactly what on earth had happened and what he had to do with it.
Thomas found George sitting on the floor in the corner all alone.
Without looking up, George said, "Hey."
"Where's your date?" asked Thomas.
"She left," said George flatly. "She said she was going to the bathroom, but that was…" he glanced at the clock. "Twenty minutes ago."
Brackenreid sighed, sitting down beside him. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," mumbled George. "I ruined it anyway." He let out a breath. "I think I overdid it a bit. I guess some girls don't like guys like me."
Thomas' face softened. He gazed out in the distance. "Not you," he said. "Me. You weren't being George Crabtree, you were being Thomas Brackenreid. I tried to change you into something you weren't and that's what ruined your night, not you." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Crabtree."
"It's alright."
"It's not." Thomas' eyebrows furrowed. "I haven't even worked up the nerve to ask Margaret out. What authority do I have to tell you how to get a girl?" He scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry."
George smirked wryly. "We're losers, huh?" he said.
Brackenreid chuckled. "The biggest losers."
They sat in silence for a while.
"Well—" George stood up. "I'm going to get a cupcake. Want one?"
Brackenreid glanced at him, smiling. "Sure."
Professor Snape led Julia down the corridors and up the stairs. Julia stared at the floor the entire time and tried not to cry.
The entrance to the Headmaster's Tower was behind a giant gargoyle, which looked a bit like a phoenix, a bit like a unicorn and a lot like a constipated hobgoblin.
Julia swallowed. In her three years at Hogwarts, she hadn't ever stood in front of the gargoyle like this, waiting shamefully to hear her fate. She was a good kid. She didn't get in trouble.
Snape approached the gargoyle, cleared his throat, and spoke to it. "Sherbert lemon," he said.
Julia blinked in confusion.
The gargoyle shifted to the side, revealing a curling spiral staircase.
Snape started up the stairs, with Julia shuffling anxiously behind him.
Her heart was a punk rock drum set, pounding and crashing with every beat. The door to Dumbledore's office loomed ahead like a waterfall, and she was floating helplessly in the river about to go over the edge.
Snape knocked, the door swinging open.
Julia stepped into the office, and her nerves momentarily went away as she took in the magnificent room around her. The walls were lined with twenty foot bookshelves, and there were huge portraits hung on every bare spot on the wall, the faces of the past headmasters who regarded her with sharp eyes. In the centre of the room was a mahogany desk, with a fiery red bird perched beside it, Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix. Sitting behind the desk was the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore himself.
"Professor Snape," he said, scribbling a note with a glorious red feather quill, likely courtesy of Fawkes. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Snape straightened his spine. "You will recall I told you of my missing bottle of Amortentia?"
"Indeed."
"I have found what happened to it." He stepped aside, revealing Julia standing, her shoulders hunched. "Miss Ogden here has seen fit to administer it to a classmate, Mister William Murdoch."
"William Murdoch!" Dumbledore's beard rose in a cryptic smile. "The detective."
Julia glanced up, surprised that he knew about the mysteries.
Dumbledore chuckled. "That must have been an interesting sight." He nodded at Snape. "Thank you, Professor Snape. I'll take it from here." Once Snape had left the room, Dumbledore dipped his quill in a pot of ink. "Amortentia, eh?" he asked.
Julia nodded. "Yes, sir."
"And a whole bottle." Smiling, Dumbledore rose from his seat, lifting his fingers and stroking his phoenix gently. "He's going to feel that in the morning."
Julia's heart began to pound again. "Sir? I'm terribly sorry. I know it was wrong to steal Professor Snape's potion, and it was pretty mean to give it to William without telling him."
"It was," said Dumbledore, a dark look on his face. "Love is not something you can force, young lady. Love takes time, and love takes work."
"I know," she said, looking at the floor. "I was cowardly, sir. I was too scared that he'd say no that I didn't give him the chance to." She sighed. "Not only that, sir. I got Watts to help me. He was the one who took the potion and he gave it to William. I was too scared to do it myself."
Dumbledore nodded. "I see."
"Please don't get him in trouble," she begged. "It was all my idea. He was just being a good friend."
"Well," Dumbledore regarded her with stoic, unreadable eyes. "You will serve detention for each week for the remainder of the month. And I'm afraid this will have to go on your permanent student record."
Julia nodded.
"And I hope you understand that if you do anything to this effect again, I will have no choice but to expel you."
Julia nodded again. "Yes, sir."
Dumbledore nodded. "Love is a beautiful thing when allowed time to develop naturally." A faint smile spread on his lips. "See that you don't let the risks scare you off of the rewards."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
He waved his hand. "You may go."
Professor Snape was waiting for her outside Dumbledore's office. They walked in silence down the stairs, stopping beside the gargoyle. Snape looked at her. "Ogden," he said.
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't let the events of tonight discourage you from following your heart."
"Sir?"
Snape had a faraway look in his eye. "You're only young once, Julia Ogden. See that you don't waste your chance."
Julia smiled, her cheeks flushing pink. "Yes, sir," she said. She went back to the Slytherin common room, her heart all aflutter.