Chapter Fourteen-Romanticism
She felt better after eating dinner. What was it her Grandmum always said? If you're feeling out of sorts, it's likely you haven't had dinner yet. Well, as usual, Grandmum was right-at least about most things.
Rain walked up to her dormitory in decidedly better spirits than when she had descended about three-quarters of an hour before. She'd thanked Imogen for convincing her to eat and now felt ready to tackle her homework again. Maybe now she'd be able to concentrate better.
Upon entering her dormitory and finding it peacefully empty, she went to her bed and lay down-only to sit up straight again when she heard a faint crumpling sound coming from beneath her. Rain looked down and caught sight of a folded piece of parchment.
"Hullo, there..."
She got the parchment and turned it over, taking note of the seal which bore an intricate DM. With a sigh, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. A pressed white rose fell out and fluttered to the floor.
Rain stared at it.
White roses meant reverence, silence, secrecy, humility...
Unwilling to make any assumptions, Rain got the flower, placed it on her bedside cabinet and read the contents of the parchment in her hands. The written words made her bite her lip.
Without hesitation, she left her dormitory again.
Devon's elbows rested on his knees, his fingers entwined and his forehead resting on them. His blue eyes were closed. From the casual observer's point of view, the eldest Malfoy looked like he was praying. In all actuality, he wasn't far from it.
This wasn't easy for him. Oh, no, it most definitely was not easy for him. What he was doing was virtually forcing him to unlearn everything that had been pounded into his head since he was young; it was making him deny everything he had been taught about being a Malfoy. He knew whose fault it was that he was in the mess: his own.
Everybody knew that Malfoys did not apologize. It was never a written rule, of course, but it was simply assumed and expected. He was a Malfoy, and it was simply not proper to apologize for things that were not his fault-or even for things that were his fault. Maybe that was why he chose to write out his apology instead of say it out loud. It was a bit easier in his pride…though it didn't give him that much comfort.
Slowly, Devon let out a breath.
This is getting out of control.
Goodness knows what he might find himself doing next.
The noise of someone clearing their throat startled him, though he made no physical reaction. She was finally there. Willingly with him, for the first time in days.
"Devon?" Rain's voice was soft, hesitant.
He turned opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Other than this, he made no other reply.
"Devon...did you write this?" as she spoke, she held up the piece of parchment that he asked Druid to deliver.
Here goes.
Slowly, he looked at the fire again. Then, he nodded. God, this was hard.
"Do you mean it?" her voice was so soft, it was almost a whisper.
"Every word." was all that he said.
Several things seemed to happen at once after Devon spoke. When he looked back on it, he still couldn't figure out how Rain ended up crying on his shoulder and his arms around her.
Devon was not really uncomfortable in this position, although it probably would have been better for him if Rain stopped crying. Even though being with Rain and experience with his previous girlfriend had taught him to be more affectionate than the conventional Malfoy, it was rare that a girl flung herself into his arms and sobbed, and he wasn't entirely used to it.
If Rain had looked up at that moment, she probably would have laughed at the expression on his face.
After a few minutes, Rain regained her composure. She straightened, took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the tear trails on her cheeks.
"I've been terrible, Devon, and it's me that should be apologizing," she said with a sniffle.
Partly out of relief and partly out of amusement, Devon felt the corner of his mouth twitching. Rain's outbursts could be so amusing sometimes. He said nothing, however. Instead, he pulled her onto his lap and held her close a second time. Then, he touched his lips to her temple in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
For a while, neither of them spoke, and the only noise to be heard in the small room was the crackling of the fire in front of them.
"I take it I'm forgiven now?" Devon said presently, his voice light.
Rain looked up at him. She smiled.
According to the best sources of gossip at Hogwarts, there was something amiss with the one of the most attractive boys in the school. It was said that he was now seen in the constant company of some Gryffindor in the same year as he was. That bit of news of course, upset the female population quite significantly.
"She's not even pretty-"
"I don't see why he does this to us..."
"The girl he's with? It's me. No, honest!"
"Shut up, Carla, you're a Ravenclaw."
"Oi, it could happen!"
Timothy Weasley shook his head and walked faster. These girls were all mooning over Skye...again. He was used to it by now, of course, but he really didn't relish hearing girls-ahem-describing Skye's finer points.
They'll never give up, will they?
It was true-Skye was now often spotted with Celestia Faber. It was also bloody obvious that Skye was serious about Faber, although the reason why was beyond any other girl who had a crush on his cousin.
"Still on about Skye, are they?" came a voice from Tim's right.
He turned to see Hayley, who was just exiting the Transfiguration classroom. A good-natured smile was on her face.
"Yep. I don't think they're likely to stop," he replied.
Hayley rolled her eyes and shifted her book to one arm.
"Isn't it obvious by the way he looks at Celestia that he doesn't have eyes for anyone else? The girls I share my dormitory with are always asking me about the issue. But, if you ask me, I'd never have thought that Skye would go after Celestia," Hayley whispered the last sentence with a hasty look around to see if anybody was listening.
"Me either. She's just so..." Tim trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Quiet," Hayley finished for him.
"Exactly. Thank you."
"Not that she's not pretty or really nice, because she is, regardless of what everyone else is whispering about, but she's just not the type that you'd think Skye would go for." Hayley said.
Skye was one of the more...boisterous boys in their family. Granted, almost everybody in the Weasley family had the tendency to be boisterous at times, but Skye was one of those who never seemed to run out of energy. He was the only son of Uncle Fred and Aunt Calla, after all. It was probably in his genes.
Tim shook his head.
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see how it turns out," he said.
The two cousins walked along the hallway in relative silence after that. Both were lost in their own thoughts, until Hayley remembered something she'd wanted to ask Tim for a while.
"Are you going to try for this new Quidditch thing? I think Skye and Rain are going for it."
Tim looked a bit uncomfortable. He shifted his books from his left arm to his right in order to give himself a bit of time to think of an answer to that question.
"Maybe," he said finally.
His cousin nodded understandingly. They were Weasleys, after all. The generation before them were all overachievers in their own unique ways, and it wasn't always easy to live up to outsiders' expectations of this new generation of Weasleys. They all knew how difficult it was to live in their parents' shadows.
"I've got Charms. I'll see you at lunch, alright?" Tim said, stopping at the Charms corridor.
"See you," she replied, squeezing his arm affectionately.
As Tim crossed the remaining distance to the Charms classroom, his thoughts were racing.
Maybe it's not such a bad idea, this Quidditch Cup….
Skye fidgeted in his seat. Nervously, he fingered the packet in his bag. From across the table, Jon glanced at him.
"For goodness' sake, Skye, go and find her if it means that much to you," Jon muttered, pausing the scratching of his quill.
"I don't know where she is."
Jon rolled his eyes.
"That's why you have to go on and find her, dimwit. You're disturbing me, and I'm trying to finish my homework."
Skye blew a lock of hair out of his face. Then he cracked his knuckles...
"Stop it. Skye, I can't work with you fidgeting like this. If you want to give it to her, go and look for her and give it, alright? I need to finish this," Jon said, looking incredibly peeved.
"Since when did you start caring about passing quality essays in History of Magic?" Skye shot back.
"Ever since I found out that Dionne loves history," muttered his best friend.
Dionne again. Ever since he met the bird, he hasn't stopped talking about her.
Strangely enough, Skye felt an odd sense of dislike towards the Daily Prophet photographer that Jon had suddenly taken a fancy to. He knew it was totally nutters for him to be so, but still, he had heard about Rain and Jon talking a few weeks back. He didn't know if any good came out of it, but if Jon was already taken with another girl, then probably…
Skye looked at his mate, who had gone back to writing his essay.
"Jon?"
The Beater looked up at him, frowning fully this time.
"What?" came the terse reply. Jon was obviously not happy about being interrupted yet again.
"What about Rain? Now that you seem to be totally obsessed with Dionne, I mean."
Jon looked away. It took a while before he answered.
"She has a boyfriend, doesn't she?"
Skye grimaced. He didn't like the sound of Jon's tone. It was almost…bitter. There also seemed to be an underlying phrase to his statement, one that Skye couldn't quite decipher just yet.
"Look, Jon, if Dionne is just some distraction, it really isn't fair-okay, let me rephrase that. I know this sounds really weird coming from me, but...don't you like Rain anymore?" Skye spoke quietly.
His friend let out a breath. He was about to answer when his eyes grew wide.
"Faber just entered the common room," he said, quickly turning back to his homework.
Celestia's entrance could not have been timed better. Skye's attention was instantly shifted from him to the newcomer, and Jon was incredibly thankful for it. He didn't know what type of answer he had been about to give Skye, but he was pretty sure the reaction it would have earned would not have been a very good one.
It was strange that Skye had asked him that. In the beginning, when Rain still had that crush on him, Skye rubbed it in unmercifully. The thing was though, whenever Jon showed signs of returning Rain's affection, Skye transformed into something akin to a mother chicken protecting her young.
Jon shook his head at the image of Skye as a mother chicken.
What was he thinking, asking me something like that?
When he first saw Dionne Gerard, Jon didn't notice anything particularly special about her...it's not like she was a raving beauty…except that she had this certain magnetism that he just couldn't shake. It was...unexplainable.
Jon looked at Skye, who had dragged Celestia to a secluded corner of the common room. They were far enough from the rest of the Gryffindors to be private, and yet near enough to still be heard by Jon. He could just make out the blush on the girl's cheeks when she opened the box Skye had given her.
"What's this for?" he heard her say.
Skye shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"You said you liked it when we passed that shop in Hogsmeade so...I got it for you. D'you-d'you like it?" the giver replied shyly.
Jon mustered an amused grin. Skye being shy was a rare, but incredibly amusing occurrence to watch.
"Of course I like it," said Celestia.
A few moments of silence followed as Skye put a necklace around Celestia's neck. Jon could virtually sense that every female in the common room was looking at his best friend while he did that.
"But Skye, what's it for?"
Skye bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit of his, running a hand through his hair, even though some of the girls swooned whenever he did that.
"Nothing," he mumbled.
If Skye doesn't get over his shyness, this is never going to get anywhere...although Cel seems to be falling for it. No, let me rephrase that. It seems like a lot of girls are falling for the shy-guy attitude.
Jon's eyes widened when he focused his attention on the two again.
Oh. Guess I was wrong, then.
Skye and Cel were now kissing. Granted, it was a rather tentative kiss, but it was still considered a full-fledged kiss.
Behind him, Jon heard several soft gasps and a loud thump. He turned to see a Third Year on the floor in a dead faint. He stood to help her along with his other housemates, smothering a smile.
Skye didn't know what he was getting himself into, kissing a girl in public, but it was proving to be highly amusing.
He stared at his teammates as they headed back to the castle in the fading sunlight. He heard their faint complaints about the practice they'd just finished. Sighing, he turned and re-enter the empty changing rooms.
"You look tired."
Mm. So the changing rooms weren't so empty after all. A girl was seated primly on one of the benches, her ankles decently crossed and her hair flowing about her shoulders. The hands folded on her lap completed the image of prudence and propriety. A concerned expression was on her face.
"I am tired," he admitted.
She stood and came towards him. When she reached him, she cupped his cheek and stared into his eyes. Her eyes...sometimes he thought he could drown in her eyes...
God, she has beautiful eyes.
"You're running yourself ragged like this," she chided him gently. "I worry about you, you know."
He gave a small smile, evidently liking the thought of this girl worrying about him.
"No need. I'm just...working hard for this."
She narrowed her blue eyes at him. Now that was the glare he was used to-the kind of look that got her followed no matter what she ordered. He often teased her about this patented glare whenever she threatened to take points from a student who was clearly disregarding the rules.
"It's not even your dream. It's your father's. I don't understand why you have to get onto the sodding team if you don't want to be on it," she said after a few seconds of silence.
"I want to be on the team, you know. It would be great to play Quidditch on a whole new level; but I also want Dad to be proud of me," he replied, looking away, knowing well that she didn't like it when he was in this mood.
She turned his head and made him look at her.
"Well I'm proud of you. I don't care if you make it to the Hogwarts team or not-I'll still be proud of you. I love you, remember?"
He made no reply, only stared into her eyes more. She took his silence as an encouragement to continue.
"Besides, who was it that taught me not to 'obsess over success'? I believe it was you, even though the rest of our house would never have believed it," she spoke quietly, ending her little speech with a quick kiss to his lips.
He sighed and put his head on her shoulder, allowing her to take care of him for the time being. She was good at it, anyway.
"I love you, too," was all he finally said.
She put her arms around him, pulling a slight frown that he would not see.
When everybody looked at him, they saw a carefree, Quidditch-worshipping, hyperactive seventeen-year-old wizard. But when she looked at him, she saw so much more than the hormone-filled teenager everybody else took him for. She was flattered that he trusted her enough to show her the side of himself that nobody else had bothered to look for.
Imagine if the Professor hadn't approached me at the start of Fifth Year….
He kissed the side of her neck and heaved another sigh.
"Enough about me," he murmured. "What have you been up to while I've been 'running myself ragged', love?"
"Mm...cooped up in the library, as usual," she said, knowing that he would tease. "You know how I am. I have top grades and numerous N.E.W.T's to live up to, remember?"
Even without looking, she knew he was grinning. This was one thing they had in common: the desire to live up to their fathers' expectations and reputations.
"The library, eh? What are you doing here then, wasting time with someone who clearly isn't in the mood to discuss the answers to the practice N.E.W.T's with you?" he said, his voice deceptively light and teasing.
"I believe our Head of House commissioned me to tutor you because your grades were slipping and the team really couldn't afford to lose someone with such skill on the pitch," she replied.
"You really hated me back then, didn't you?" he said after another short silence.
He was referring to the rather aloof approach she had towards him at the start of their 'tutoring sessions'. True, she was not exactly pleased when she was asked to help him with his lessons, but she couldn't very well refuse a Professor now, could she?
"I knew you were part of a group of people who made fun of the ones who their academics seriously. To be completely honest, I didn't want anything to do with you," she said.
He straightened and looked her in the eye, a slight smile playing about his lips.
"And how do you feel about it after two years of 'tutoring' poor old me?"
She gave her own vague smile.
"Oh, I suppose I'll live with your constant presence in my life."
He laughed before kissing her.
The chapter has now ended.