With a Little Help from My Friends by Lucy Lupin
Author's Note: Yeah, double chapter! I aimed to get these both up before I left, and for once I met my deadline. Additionally I'm short of dates for the Halloween Ball, which will be next chapter. If you want to go as someone's date, let me know (a) what your character's name is, (b) what house she belongs to, (c) what year she is - has to be fourth year or above and (d) what house you want her date to belong to. I can't make any guarantees with (d) as I am a slave of the muse to an extent, but I'll try to keep people happy.
Chapter Fourteen: Date Headaches and Little Heartbreaks
"Alright, alright, settle down you lot," Professor Haricot said. It was a Monday morning and due the amount of group work involved, the Herbology class was one of the liveliest on the sixth years' schedule. "The reason why I asked you here to the tropical greenhouse today was that we are going to commence the study of a plant that has been a subject of interest among you students for a while now - the Strangler." She rose one hand to dispel the murmurs of interest that had broken out among the students. "To begin with, what can you tell me about the properties of a Strangler?"
Zachary raised his hand. "Stranglers are part of the same family of plants as Mandrakes and Wortroot. It typically takes two years to mature and has to be planted in summer and harvested in autumn to obtain its magical powers."
"Five points for Gryffindor. Excellent work, Lupin. Take another five if you can tell me exactly what those magical properties are."
"A Strangler has no medicinal properties on its own, but when combined with eucalyptus, can make a very effective remedy against asthma. Drank as a tea, it can also act as a concentration aid for several obscure magical studies, such as Amigala."
Next to Molly, Lucille inhaled sharply.
"Well done. And that final point brings me to the reason why we are working with the Strangler today. Professor McGonagall has requested some solution for her directed study Amigala students, along with the Aurors department of the Ministry of Magic. While it is a discipline that requires a lot of dedication and concentration, with little chance of success, Amigala is an useful art for those who may plan to work as Aurors, particularly as Unspeakables. We will be gathering leaves, which I will collect at the end of the lesson and send away to Professor Filch, who will be making the leaves into tea with his NEWT class."
"Only that?" Blair Zabini snorted behind Molly. "When we were told to come to the Tropical Greenhouse, I thought we were in store for something interesting."
"Well, for not only your sake, Mister Zabini, but the sake of your fellow students, I hope that this class does not become too interesting," Professor Haricot said in her booming voice. "Because of the intense nature of concentration required for this activity, you will be working in groups of fours. Two of you will cut off leaves with these-" she tipped her wand at a cupboard, which promptly opened to reveal strange contraptions that resembled scissors, that is, if scissors had handles a yard long "-and the other two will stand behind the first two as guards. If someone in your group enters into strife, aim a Stunning Spell at its flowers - those are the most sensitive parts. Misters Lupin and Burnett, you will work with Misses Bulstrode and Nero. Misters Goyle and Sombre, you will work with…"
"Molly, I have something to tell you about Noir," Lucille whispered in her ear. With the noise of the first group taking their positions in front of the Strangler and the rest beginning to prepare boxes for the tea, it was the ideal time for a private conversation.
"What is it now?" Molly asked. "Are you afraid he's going to stand on your foot?"
Lucille pressed a finger to her lips and glanced around to make sure they weren't being watched. "No, it's not that, it's just - this may sound really silly, but I don't think that he's all that he seems."
"Well, what else can he be?" Molly responded, but this time more quietly, as she did not want a second elbow in her side. "An Amagus?" She had barked out a laugh before she saw the widening of the other girl's eyes. "Oh for goodness sake, Lucille."
"No, no, just hear me out," Lucille insisted, grabbing Molly's wrist. "He just doesn't behave how a horse is meant to behave. I mean, not that I would know," she amended after Molly's derisive snort, "but he really seems to understand what I'm saying. Like the first time I rode him, when Hagrid said that I was too small to get on him and that he was going to lift me up, Noir dropped down on one knee. Then when I gave him sugar for the first time, he nuzzled my coat pocket. Molly, he heard me say that I had more in there."
"He smelt them, Lucille," Molly said heavily. "Now are you sure that you haven't been slipping into Herbie Jordan's stash of Butterbeer on the sly?"
"You can mock me if you want to, but I know what I know. Noir is an Amagus, and Zachary Lupin had better come up with a very good explanation of why he knows so much about the properties of Stranglers if he ever wants me to speak to him again!"
"Now you're being ridiculous," Molly said firmly. "Zachary Lupin knows a lot about Stranglers because he knows a lot about everything, full stop. He probably found out ahead of time that we would be working with a Strangler and read about them."
"Then explain why he's here almost every Hogsmeades weekend, without fail, which is coincidentally when I have my flying lessons!"
"He is here almost every Hogsmeades weekend because he is a hard worker, Lucille, a concept I don't expect you to understand. He likes the peace and quiet of the common room to concentrate on his homework without all the silly third years running around. Besides, despite the fact that you have far too much time on your hands if you can come up with stuff and nonsense like this, you seem to have forgotten that on the first Hogsmeades weekend, Zachary went to Hogsmeades. I sat next to him and watched him moon over Cordelia Sinistra for the whole ride. I believe that you had a lesson that day."
"Well, maybe it was another student who took Polyjuice Potion and pretended to be Zachary while he was at Hogwarts. I bet Dumbledore brewed it up for him. I bet Dumbledores in on the whole thing. I'm telling you, Molly, that horse is not a horse and there is no better explanation-"
"Misses Morag and Black! What are you doing gas-bagging in the back of the classroom when your partners, Misters Zabini and Hicks, are waiting for you? This activity needs to be carried out with the utmost precision, which is why punctuality is very important. For your reckless behaviour I am taking five points off Gryffindor house - each." Molly winced. Several Slytherins grinned while several more of their own classmates sent them daggers. "Now for Merlin's sake, come forward! Given your lack of concentration I think it would be better if you young ladies took the scissors and leave any necessary hexing to the gentlemen. Honestly! If this is an indication of what we are to expect of you during NEWTs next year, I'll-"
"How about you shut up and give us the opportunity to concentrate?" Lucille muttered under her breath as they knelt in front of the Strangler. Molly gave her a sharp look - the last thing her friend needed was a detention. She picked up a pair of scissors, praying the two boys could put their sense of house rivalry on the shelf for long enough not to hit them in the back with Bat Bogies.
Fortunately they had been paired with possibly the two most decent boys in Slytherin house and moved through the activity quite quickly. The nature of the exercise was such that Molly had no choice but to focus her full attention upon it and gave no more thought to Lucille's crazy theories. She still jumped when fingers brushed against the nape of her neck.
"Relax, Morag, I'm just tying your hair back," an idle voice explained from behind her. "If the Strangler got a handful of that I wouldn't fancy my chances of getting you free in time."
"Thank you, Blair," Molly said stiffly, and recommenced her cutting of the plant.
A few minutes late Professor Haricot silently tapped them on the shoulder, signalling that their shift had ended. The girls gathered up their leaves and returned to the back of the classroom, where they began to sort through them with the boys. Leaves of three were useless for anything rather than a hangover remedy, while leaves of four were the most effective when used in the tea for heightened concentration. Molly saw Nicholas Hicks pocket a few of the leaves of three. Blair Zabini's hand brushed against her own, and she jumped.
"Professor, Anna got caught by the strangler!"
A girl with long blond curls was ensnared by the plant, gagging and trying to loosen the death grip of the long green tendrils around her neck. Her partners were leaping up and trying to grab their wands, which had been snatched up by additional branches and danced around just beyond their reach. "Out of my way!" Professor Haricot cried, bustling through a group of students to still the Strangler with a Stunning Spell. "Mister Zabini, please take Miss Burlington to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you, back to work."
Molly had finally accepted that Amos was never going to ask her to the Halloween Ball and had made the decision to fall back on her standby. After class she whispered to Lucille that she would meet her in Potions and caught up to Zachary. "So, do you have a date to the ball yet?"
"What do you mean yet? It's this Saturday." Molly tilted her head at him. "Er, as a matter of fact, I haven't."
Outside of the greenhouse it was much colder, the students' white breath fanning out of their mouths as their footsteps crunched over the crisp autumn leaves. Molly was thankful that upon finding out that they would be in the tropical greenhouse, she had not worn her summer uniform as Lucille had. "You mean, a cute, intelligent, sweet guy like you is still available? Are all the other girls in Hogwarts blind or something?"
"Er, well," Zachary ducked his head, grinning and blushing at the compliment, "it's more me that's the problem, actually. I was trying to work up my courage to ask Cordelia Sinistra, but by the time I'd developed enough bottle, Alistair Bell had nipped in before me. You know, it's strange how we're supposedly the bravest house in the school - and maybe we are in other ways - yet when it comes to asking an attractive girl to a dance, we're just as lily-livered as all the others."
"Tell me about it," Molly said glumly. "I was holding out for someone to ask me as well, and Lucille was telling me to just ask him myself, but it feels like something a girl isn't supposed to do, like. And I'd always figured that any bloke you have to chase isn't worth it, you know?" Zachary gave her a sidelong look. "You know, because you're so used to asking us, that if you don't it means you're not interested, yeah?"
"Not necessarily," Zachary shrugged. "You have to take into account what the bloke is like too. Perhaps he's just shy. Or perhaps - you know, you're very friendly and outgoing, but maybe you're not too good at giving out signals to let someone know you're interested in them. It could be that whoever this bloke is, he's been holding a candle for you for a while, but simply hasn't received anything from you to let him know that if he asks you out on a date, you won't hex him to Beauxbatons."
"Where?" Molly asked.
"Beauxbatons? French wizarding school?" Zachary clarified. Molly looked blank. "Once again, I am confronted by the knowledge that I am the only person in the school to have read Hogwarts: A History. Anyhow, another thing is that you're quite the chattermouth. It could be that he's being trying to ask you all this time, but you haven't paused for breath long enough."
Molly laughed.
"Well, that's you taken care of," Zachary continued. "I just don't know what to do with myself. I mean, I'm a nice bloke. I listen to girls' problems and I care about what they think. Perhaps I'm one of those blokes that girls only notice when they start to look for someone to marry, you know, husband material. How unsexy. Is it any wonder that I'm still a virgin?" He realised what he said and clapped his hand over his mouth.
"Oh, come on now," Molly said, now blushing herself. "Don't talk like that. You're a fine catch and don't let me hear you say otherwise, Zachary Lupin. Now because it seems to have escaped your notice, I'm still available to ask to the ball, you big dolt."
"Ah, yes," Zachary grinned sheepishly. "How rude of me. Molly, would you like to-"
"Zachary Lupin, could I have a word, please?"
Both turned around. Slytherin prefect Georgina Flint stood in the hallway, hands propped on her hips. "Alone?" she said, raising an eyebrow that had to be obeyed at Molly.
Molly left them alone.
"It was like watching one of your caldrons boil over," Molly confided in an indignant hiss to Lucille as the two girls left Potions. "I could see what was about to happen, but I was-"
"-Powerless to prevent it?" Lucille finished sympathetically.
"And then he squeezes in next to me during class and says that he didn't have the balls to say "no" and explain that he'd already sort of asked me, and now I don't have anyone to take me to the ball," Molly finished bitterly. "A Gryffindor going with a Slytherin? Who would have thought? I'd applaud all the interhouse dating going on at the moment if it didn't mean that I was on the losing end of it. How humiliating."
"Try not to get upset over it, Molly," Lucille suggested kindly. "I don't think it was anything personal on Zachary's part. And I know that Georgina Flint is pretty scary, but any guy who'd give you up that easily isn't worth it. I mean, someone like, say, Arthur, would say "no" to ten Georginas if it meant he could go to the ball with you," she added, slipping Molly a sidelong glance.
Molly shrugged noncommittally.
"If you ask me, you may as well ask Amos Diggory to the ball now," Lucille advised. "It's not like you have anything else to lose as things stand. Besides, if he says no at this point, it's more than likely because he already has a date, in which case it doesn't reflect badly on you."
"Well, not exactly, because it means that he would have asked her before me," Molly grumbled.
"My, my, who got caught on the wrong end of a Bat Bogey this morning? Owl just in, pumpkin, not only blokes do the asking these days. Witness how Zachary was snatched out from under your nose. So don't assume that if Amos is no longer available, it's because of any incentive on his part. Perhaps if you'd only considered that a few weeks earlier, you wouldn't be in your current predicament."
"I know, I know," Molly fretted, "but doesn't it seem like you're putting an awful lot on the line? If I were to ask they'd know for certain that I'm interested in them, and I risk getting rejected. It's-"
"-Exactly what wizards have been going through ever since dates were invented," Lucille finished triumphantly. "Which is why I for one believe that if a girl asked a guy, he'll be so relieved not to have to go through all that himself that if she's the least bit cute, sexy, intelligent or interesting, he'll say "yes." And sweetie, you're the lot, so why worry?"
"I don't want Amos to go with me because he's relieved," Molly said through gritted teeth. "I want him to go with me because he wants to."
"Well, if you're completely out of options," Lucille began philosophically, "Thierry still hasn't discovered the identity of that girl who volunteered to test that obscene prediction I overheard Arthur telling Roy Connolly about. Personally, I think she came to her senses just in time and went into hiding. Although be warned, don't be surprised if he drops you an hour into the evening. I hear he's out to cast."
"You hear he's out to cast?" Molly parroted. "Lucille, you didn't need to hear a rumour to know that. We've known Thierry since first year, remember? When is he ever not out to cast? In fact, I hear the Hufflepuff boys have a pool going. Apparently it's not on whether he casts or not, but how many." She snorted. "Honestly."
"Yes, honestly," Lucille echoed. "We have to be the only two females in this school who aren't blind. I wouldn't do the nasty with him if he was the last wizard on the planet. And even in that dire situation, I'd still resort to Muggles first."
Molly pursed her lips, but made no comment. There had been far too much of that kind of talk issuing from between Lucille's lips for her liking. "I thought you liked Muggles," she ventured eventually. "Four of them in particular. The Beatles, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, I suppose I can make exceptions," Lucille grinned shamefacedly. "Besides, celebrities aren't really Muggles, are they? So I suppose they're alright." Molly's mouth fell open. "Anyway, this is me." They had reached the entry of the Great Hall. "Bonne chance avec Amos, if you see him there."
Molly narrowed her eyes. "Aren't you coming to lunch?"
"No." Lucille seemed to be having trouble meeting her eyes. "I have to go back to the dorm and work on my costume. Now Diana is going as the Grey Lady. It's not fair. I thought of it first, and now I have to go back to the common room and make my stupid costume all over again. I hate it when people steal my ideas then make better costumes than me."
"You barely eat anything these days," Molly accused. She had already decided it was better to say nothing and keep her thoughts to herself, but her tongue seemed to have a will of its own. "And when you do, you scoff down cakes and lollies. It's not healthy."
"So?" Lucille shrugged. "What do you care?"
"I care because I'm your friend, Lucille."
"Get in line," Lucille snapped. People were stopping to stare at them. Arthur and Thierry had approached the hall, Arthur placing a hand on Thierry's arm to halt him in case they were needed. Lucille, oblivious to all, plowed on. "Everybody seems to want to be my friend these days. Just because Father is high up in the Ministry. It's so tiresome. I'm sick of people trying to use me for my connections."
"Lucille, I've never used you for anything." Molly was stung. "What's gotten into you these days?"
"I would just prefer it if my supposed best friend didn't accuse me of starving myself."
"I am your best friend," Molly insisted. "And I'm not accusing you of any such thing. The only one talking about you starving yourself is you, Lucille. I would just rather you paid more attention than what you're putting into your mouth. Your skirts don't sit as high on your waist as they used to, your face always looks drawn and tired and you walk down the corridors dragging your feet as if you barely have enough energy to get from one side of the room to the other." Lucille remained visibly unmoved. "I'm concerned, that's all."
"Well, save your concern for someone who needs it," Lucille spat out. "I'm fine. I'm eating exactly as much as I need to. Just because you would have to starve yourself in order to be my size, Molly."
Molly was too numb to react. But before she could, Thierry leapt forward and grabbed Lucille's wrist. "Take that back," he ordered.
"There's nothing to take back," Lucille insisted, but her voice had a definite quiver to it and she was inclining her upper body as far away from Thierry's as possible. "I didn't say that she's fat, and I didn't say it like it's a bad thing. I can just see where she's coming from. She would have to starve to be my size, so I can see why she thinks that I am. I was trying to be understanding because, you see, for her, it would be so unnatural, and it would take such a huge effort, to be anything near my size."
"Just keep on talking yourself further into the dragon's belly, why don't you, Lucille?" From the doorway Arthur was watching her with distaste.
"No, don't bother. I've heard enough." Molly's shock had faded to be replaced by a bubbling pit of anger. "I appreciate it, Thierry, but you're wasting your time. These days Lucille only cares about people's feelings if they're pure-blooded and rich. Let's go, Arthur." She snatched his hand and attempted to propel him out of the room. His attention, however, was focused on the other two.
"Well, bien fait, Lucille," Thierry hissed, not letting up on his grip of Lucille's wrist. "Were yer tryin' to 'urt Molly's feelings? Eef so, I congratulate yer on ze success of cet venture, an' eef not, zan I am vair afraid of what yer may do when yer are."
"I didn't mean to offend," Lucille wheedled. Even she seemed to perceive that she had gone too far. "I was only trying to help."
"Comment? Comme ca?" Molly couldn't understand what Thierry was saying, but he appeared aghast. "Dis moi, Lucille, 'ow exactement eez zat supposed to be 'elpin' Molly?" At least Lucille had the grace to look abashed. "Eets you, not Molly, oo needs 'elp, Lucille. Yer lookin' far too skinny zese days, an' eef you want an award pour ze amount of friends yer can lose in a month, yer goin' ze right way about eet. An' Molly eez tryin' ter be yer friend, even though yer are makin' eet vair difficult for 'er."
Lucille's chin regained its stubborn tilt. "Yeah, well, I'm trying to be her friend too. And sometimes being someone's friend mean telling them the truth, even if it hurts. She's my friend and I only want the best for her. You have to admit, for a pureblood witch she is a little, well, porky. All the women from the right families know how to eat properly, and until she does too, she'll never find a wizard with the right connections to marry." Arthur let out an indignant hiss. Lucille shrugged. "Everyone else's thinking it; I'm just saying it."
"Actually, Lucille, everyone else is not thinking it," Thierry responded with the type of too-serene quietness that warned those around him to tread carefully. Everyone except Lucille, that was. Molly didn't know how she managed to look Thierry in the eye and stay on her feet. If she had been the focus of those furious dark eyes, she would have curled into a fetal position. "You are the only one who is thinking it, along with the many other strange beliefs you appear to be entertaining and spouting off liberally these days. Perhaps if you can't think of anything pleasant to say, you should keep your mouth shut before someone does for you with a Sealing Hex. In the meantime you should consider yourself lucky that you are not a man, otherwise I would have bloodied you to a pulp for that insult you just gave Molly. Your upbringing seems to be doing wonders for your social graces, no?"
"Oh, go cast a Sealing Hex on yourself," Lucille snarled. "I hardly think you're in the position to be lecturing me on social graces, when you want to take a girl to the ball purely because you think she'll be a sure thing and you're hardly an example of shining virtue yourself, you half-bred!"
Except for the nervous hiccups from a Ravenclaw girl who had just arrived, the room went deathly quiet. Lucille's eyes widened as she realised what she had said and she took a nervous step back. "Oh no, I didn't mean, I didn't-"
"I think you need to cool off," Thierry said, the softness of his voice belying the menace in his eyes. Taking a step back from the quaking girl, he raised his wand and cried, "Lasciaquam!"
There was a loud roaring sound then, as if a trapdoor had been opened, a torrent of water rushed from the sky and dropped on top of Lucille, its force knocking her to the ground. It was as if a waterfall had appeared from nowhere and fell on top of the unfortunate brunette. Scattered giggling and applause arose from the students gathered around the pair, who Lucille had made herself none too popular with after her return. Thierry muttered, "Touche," and swept off in the direction of the west wing. His victim could only stare open-mouthed after him.
Cordelia Sinistra stepped forward and helped Lucille to her feet. "Come on, I'll take you to the prefects' bathroom to get you dried off. It's just around the corner. Merlin, what a mess. I don't think Thierry should have hexed you like that, especially not in this weather, but then I can't completely say that you didn't deserve it."
"Come on, Molly." Arthur gave her hand a gentle tug. At some point during Thierry and Lucille's confrontation she had grabbed his, she discovered. "Let's go get something to eat."
"Right," she said, allowing herself to be led inside and seated at the Gryffindor table. Arthur began to pile things onto her plate. Her mind was racing with so many conflicting thoughts and emotions that it took her a while to realise that he was speaking to her. "Sorry, didn't catch that."
"I said, "Was it just me, or didn't Thierry have an accent during some parts of that"," Arthur repeated patiently. "I just found it curious, that's all."
"I wasn't paying too much attention to that part of things, to be honest," Molly admitted absently. "Would you care for some tea?"
Thierry's feet rapped across the ancient stones in angry strides. He still couldn't accept what Lucille had just said to both Molly and himself outside the Great Hall. True, she was with a doubt being brainwashed by her family, but he would have never believed she could talk to her best friend that way. At best she had been thoughtless, at worst deliberately cruel. Molly was a normal girl with a healthy amount of curves on her and most of the Hogwarts boys would rather cuddle up to her at night than the increasingly twig-like Lucille. Most Hogwarts boys, that was.
For neither the first nor the last time, he cursed himself for maintaining an interest in the girl. She would be easier to deal with if she was at least being consistently nasty. Despite his admiration for the more external aspects of witches, due to having several gorgeous female relatives he was aware that looks only went so far, and as things stood, Lucille's weren't stretching far enough. But there were times when she treated him better. He had fond memories of their early years at Hogwarts, had seen her vastly different behaviour towards others and could not concede that girl was fully lost to him.
Hastened by his temper, Thierry's legs took him up to the Divination classroom in a matter of minutes. He would just have to wait it out until Arthur, who was presumably eating lunch, arrived. His stomach rumbled a regret that he wasn't doing the same, but it was too late to do anything about that now.
"I thought you didn't take this subject anymore," someone said.
Seated behind his old chair was a Ravenclaw girl with long, dark hair. She was faintly exotic looking, as if she may have been part Asian. Thierry, whose nationality was the least among the things that rendered him exotic, felt an instant affinity with her. "Oui, c'est vrai," he said. "I joost came aujourd'hui because I am waitin' for someone."
"You want to find out who was the girl who volunteered to test your prediction," the girl said. She shrugged at his surprise. "You only told your closest friends, therefore, with it being Hogwarts, the whole school knows."
"Oh," Thierry said, feeling a little chagrined. For the first time he realised that those rumours were perhaps not too flattering to the girl involved, especially when coupled with those of what he planned to do to her when they got to the ball.
"You're probably wondering if I know who it is," the girl continued in that same quiet, tranquil manner. "Maybe I do. Maybe the girl who said it meant it only as a joke and she was mortified that you took it so literally. Maybe she's in hiding because she's embarrassed about the rumours circulating the school about how easy she may be to get into bed. Maybe she really does want to go to the ball with you, but not if your sole purpose in taking her there is to sleep with her."
"Oh," Thierry repeated. He had a vast amount of experience in dealing with girls, but this was the only one to make him feel this flustered and unsure of himself. Well, her and a certain Mademoiselle Black. "I am sorry zat she theenks zese theengs of me. Maybe I was joost curious ter find out ze type of person oo would say sometheeng like zat een class, and maybe I thought she seemed intelligent an' foony, an' I wanted to go weeth someone intelligent an' foony. Ze ball goes for five hours. Eef tout ze rumours were true, what exactement would I do weeth 'er ze odaire four an' a half hours?" The girl smiled and blushed. Thierry broke off with an apology. "I joost wanted ter find out what genre de la fille elle est."
"Well, now you know," the girl said simply.
Thierry gaped open-mouthed at her. "C'etais tu?"
"Oui, c'etait moi. It was a joke that really didn't do what I wanted it to."
"Tu parle francais?"
"Oui, un petit peu. To be honest with you, us Ravenclaw girls aren't too popular as dates outside of our own house. We're seen as being bookish and boring and not, as some would so delicately put it, "facile"." Thierry grimaced sheepishly. "Well, good luck finding another date."
"Attends pour un moment." Thierry finally remembered that civilised people did not show their tonsils and managed to stop staring incredulously at her. "Yer mean yer 'ave already trouve quelqu'un autre?"
"No." For the first time the girl looked unsure of herself. "I just wasn't going to go. And when you asked me if I had already found someone else, you could have at least had the grace not to look surprised. A girl likes to be flattered, you know." Despite her sombre tone a dimple in one cheek threatened.
"Desole," Thierry said. "Well, eef yer don' want ter go, zats un altre chose entirely. But eef yer change yer mind, I would quite like ter take yer. And I mean joost ter yer to ze ball, not, er, "take" yer. Eet would be nice ter 'ave an intelligent fille to talkweeth for ze evening." He finished his spiel with the most beguiling smile every last drop of his Veela mother's blood could muster.
"I would like that," the girl said, smiling back. "I'm Catherine, by the way."
"Thierry," Thierry responded. He allowed himself an ironic smile as she, of course, already knew who he was. He leaned forward. They clasped hands.
"So, what are you going as?" Molly asked.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Will winked, whipping an apple off the fruit platter in the centre of the Gryffindor table."Or hit you with a Memory Obliteration charm at the very least. Alright, you haven't nagged me anywhere near as much as Veronica has, so I'll give you a hint. Since my girlfriend, who can brush up quite nicely if I may so say myself, is going as the most potently seductive magical creature known to wizard, I decided to go as something big and powerful to keep unwanted hands off her. That's all I'm saying - but it's still more than she knows. So it would be good if you could somehow let on that you know something that she doesn't know."
"Hey, keep your Quidditch gloves off my friend." Veronica had arrived and was waving her finger playfully at Will. "This is the exclusive society known as Blokes From Other Houses, Despite Being Deemed Vastly Inferior, Who Date Gryffindor Girls. It's only one of us per member, not two, remember?"
"Oh, but I'm so bloody handsome that they said I could have a second," Will said, grinning up at her. He eased back off his seat and swung his long legs out from under the table. "I guess I'll leave my harem to it, then."
"Your harem?" Veronica echoed indignantly after his departing back.
"He is adorable," Molly beamed.
"You can have him," Veronica shrugged, but her eyes were twinkling. "Perhaps we could do what Zachary suggested and switch dates."
"Yeah, but there's one catch." Molly's sour mood had returned. "I don't have a partner to trade, remember."
"Hmm." Veronica stroked an imaginary beard. "You're still available, aren't you, Arthur?"
"Regretfully, no," Arthur said. "Diana accosted me last Thursday and said something along the lines of being Head Boy and Girl, it was our civic duty to go as partners to this "abominable event." So I'm going as John Lennon and I have no idea what she's going as. I'm a bit afraid to ask, quite frankly."
"John Lennon?" Veronica perked up. "Lucille will love that."
"Yes, because apparently celebrities don't count as Muggles," Molly muttered.
Veronica and Arthur shared a look above her head. "Look, Molly, no more thinking about Lucille," Arthur said firmly. There was a steely look in his eye that she had never seen there before. "You and I are going to take some food outside and eat it in the courtyard. We are going to avoid the subject of Lucille altogether and I, Molly Morag, am going to make you smile."
"And then I landed in front of him and switched off the Invisibility Booster, and he falls back against his suitcases, frightens Emmanuel by knocking over his cage and cries, "Sacre Blu!" So I say, "Yes, the Sacred Blue. That's what I've decided to call her. Isn't she beautiful?"." Both Arthur and Molly squealed with laughter. "Man, I had some good times with that car," Arthur finished wistfully.
"I wish I'd gotten to ride in it," Molly agreed. "I'll never forget the moment when I looked out the window and saw the four of you hovering outside. Near took ten years off my life, that did. We haven't really done a lot together this year, in fact. I mean, we've been in the same group together and all, but never really talked or did something with just the two of us like."
"Yeah," Arthur's throat was suddenly dry. He could feel his heart rapping against his ribcage. "No, we haven't done a lot of that stuff." He remembered Veronica, William and Thierry's advice and tried to muster up the guts to put it into effect. "Listen, Molly, I know it's too late as far as the ball is concerned, but would you like to-"
"Oh, but we're late to class," Molly realised.
"Excused Tardiness forms," Arthur said, patting his cloak pocket. His cheerful tone hid his frustration at the untimely interruption. "I'm not adverse to bending the privileges that come with my position every once and a while, especially since with my level of punctuality, I often have need of them myself. Now, which would you rather have, an upset tummy or to be delayed because of a Leg Locking curse?"
"The upset tummy," Molly said, laughing. "It's not quite as humiliating." Arthur scrawled out the note and signed it with a flourish. "I had a really good time today. Thank you for helping me take my mind off things."
"My pleasure," Arthur said. "Now we should really get back." Finish off what you were saying to her, the currently very repressed Gryffindor part of him urged. Put some fucking balls into it. But instead he grasped Molly's arm and helped her to her feet.
They walked back in silence, then Molly saw something that made her heart rise and Arthur's sink. Amos Diggory was strolling out of the Great Hall - unaccompanied. She looked back at Arthur and felt a small feather of guilt settle into her stomach. "Arthur, I'm sorry, but would you excuse me?"
"No problem," Arthur shrugged, but for some reason his smile seemed a little tight. "I had to go in the other direction anyway."
"Thanks," Molly grinned. "See you later. And thanks again for lunch." Why did she feel so guilty? Arthur was a friend. He wouldn't mind.
Amos had disappeared at the top of a staircase. Quickening her stride Molly pursued him, thankful that all Thierry's Quidditch practices meant that she wasn't puffing once she reached its summit. That would be most undignified. "Hey Amos, hold up a minute," she called.
Amos, the eternal gentleman, paused, but seemed to be reluctant to do so. "Don't you have a class to go to?" she asked once she caught up to him. "I myself have Astronomy next."
"I'll walk with you," Molly offered. "Arthur Weasley gave me a tardiness pass." She winked and brandished it playfully.
"Ah, friends in high places?" Amos smiled, but seemed to lack his usual heart. "So Molly, what have you been up to lately? I haven't seen much of you around since the Quidditch match."
"Ah, don't remind me of that," Molly grimaced. "It was an absolute travesty. But we have improved lots since then," she added buoyantly. "You won't get such short shrift of us the next time we meet, I promise."
"I'll be disappointed if I did," Amos said. At least his smile seemed genuine that time.
"You won't," Molly assured him. "To answer your original question, I haven't had time to do much with myself with homework and all the extra Quidditch practice Thierry's been making us do. I've had scarcely enough time to make my costume for the Halloween Ball, let alone actually find a date." Don't do it like that, she chided herself. You'll make it seem like you're desperate, and that he's your last resort. Not particularly flattering to both of you. "I was wondering if you happened to still be free."
"Ah, Molly." Amos averted his eyes. Not a good sign. "I would love to go, but I actually already have a date."
"Oh, alright then," Molly said, hoping the disappointment didn't show on your face. She attempted to joke it off. "I suppose some lucky girl nipped in early and got you, right?"
"Er, actually, I asked her," Amos admitted. He looked so decidedly uncomfortable that Molly would have felt sorry for him had she not felt so acutely so for herself. "I'm really sorry, Molly. Um, I think a few of the blokes on the Quidditch team still haven't found dates. If you like, I can set you up with one."
"No, that's quite alright, thank you Amos," Molly said, forcing some cheer into her voice. She was damned if she was going to seem completely desperate in front of him. "I hope you have a good time at the ball. Just out of curiosity, who are you going with?"
