Wow, guys, I am SO so sorry for that majorly long silence I had there. I haven't updated this story in months and I feel really bad. I guess I just needed a kick in the butt to get it up and running again. I'll try to post the rest of this story quickly.
Chapter 4: Intelligence
"What do you think of them?" Anna nudged me. We both peeked over our newly received time tables at the Durmstrang who were sitting exclusively at a table. They had already shunned several students' efforts to welcome them in, and now in turn they were being shunned by the rest of Hogwarts.
"They seem like gits," I whispered. "Look at them, sitting away from everyone else like they're better." Anna and I were in our free hour, sitting together in the Great Hall and starting the homework we had already acquired.
"They certainly act like it," Anna agreed. "Yesterday I thought they were just out of their element, you know, but they certainly haven't made any effort to talk to any of us."
"My sister tried talking to that pretty, dark-haired girl earlier this morning and she looked down her nose at Ming like she didn't speak English," Su Chang leaned over to us and whispered, her dark eyes flitting between us and them. "I don't like them."
"Why do you think they're like that?" Anna whispered back to the Ravenclaw girl.
"I don't know. I thought they were supposed to-"
"Excuse me," came a heavily accented voice from above me. I looked up, surprised, to meet the dark eyes of a Durmstrang girl. "Does anyone have a quill I could borrow?"
"Yes," I blurted, completely flustered from surprise. I ducked down and rifled through my bag until I came upon what the girl was looking for.
"Here." I presented the quill, and she nodded her thanks before walking off.
Anna and Su gawked at me, open-mouthed, along with the rest of our table.
"She just came over-"
"And talked to us!" Anna finished Su Chang's sentence. "What was that?"
"Erm, I suppose she needed a quill," I said frankly.
Su shook her head. "Maybe she knew we were talking about them."
"Sorry!" I yelled over my shoulder to the heavy-set Durmstrang girl I had just knocked into with my shoulder. I was late for Transfiguration and McGonagall would kill me. Or maybe turn me into a teacup; either way, I couldn't stop to chat with this girl.
I burst into the classroom and quickly slid into my desk; the room was already silent, students' heads bent down as they copied off the instructions on the board.
I discreetly began to reach into my bag, quietly sliding out my parchment and rummaging for a quill. I worked them onto my desk and began to write; maybe she wouldn't realize I'd just walked in-
"Miss Weasley," McGonagall's sudden voice made me jump. "We are a week into the school year, and still you believe it acceptable to waltz in late and disrupt the class. Perhaps a detention would do you well. My office, four o' clock. And do be on time." Her brown streaked silver hair was pulled into the same severe bun as always, her dainty glasses perched on her nose.
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall," I mumbled.
"Hey, at least she didn't give you detention on the night of Quidditch tryouts!" Melody whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
"Quiet!" McGonagall ordered, and all the Ravenclaws and Slytherins bent down over their work once more.
It took almost twenty minutes of writing before McGonagall was satisfied we'd had enough.
"Quills down," she ordered, and I immediately began massaging my hand.
"Now," McGonagall raised her voice to be heard over the sudden conversations that had sprouted up. "We're going to talk about OWLS results. If you're ashamed of your score, you should have studied harder.
"I'm going to explain what those scores mean, and what sort of careers you can go into. But first I'd like to announce the top of the class this year; the top seven are Albus Potter," she stopped while we all clapped and hooted for Al, who was sitting in the back of the room. His Slytherin friends were hitting him in the back. The Durmstrang students were there too, with their headmaster, who insisted on coming with his students to their classes for the first week. But they didn't cheer at all for Al, only sat stone-faced. What was their problem?
"-and Rose Weasley-" more cheers, even though she wasn't in here now.
"-Shelby James-Thomas..." another Slytherin, and the cheers grew louder.
"-Toby Longbottom-" now people were stomping their feet as well for the much-loved Professor Longbottom's son.
"-Scorpius Malfoy, and Roxanne Weasley-" At this point McGonagall was practically shouting to be heard. A huge grin spread over my face, and Melody clapped me in the back.
"Nice going, Roxanne!" Laine whispered from behind me.
"Thanks," I looked back at her and smiled.
Then my eyes shifted to something behind her. McGonagall began to talk about all sorts of grading and point systems, but I was too absorbed in the scene unfolding in the back of the room.
Professor Nikola, the Durmstrang man, was whispering quietly to the students closest to him and pointing to Al. He turned to the girl and said something intently. She nodded firmly, as if in conformation. I tried to read his lips, but he really could have been saying anything; I was rubbish at that.
Then he turned to the boy beside him and pointed at...me.
Nikola and I locked eyes: his narrowed, mine widened in shock and I whirled around quickly.
They were talking about Al and I. McGonagall was still speaking, but I couldn't concentrate on one word she was saying. My ears were buzzing and a shiver trailed down my spine like it always did when I was being watched. I pretended to drop my quill, knocking it off the edge of my desk with my elbow. I leaned slowly down to get it, twisting backward to get a better look at the students from Durmstrang.
The boy that Nikola had been whispering to was staring at me intently, like he knew perfectly well that I hadn't really dropped that quill. He looked almost...amused. A ghost of a smile flickered across his face, and I narrowed my eyes. What did this guy think he was do-
"Ah!" A small shriek burst from my lips as I toppled the rest of the way out of my chair and onto the ground. The class burst into laughter and although my tailbone felt like it had been hammered on, I grinned widely, shooting up to my feet and taking bow after bow until I heard appreciative laughter and clapping. My eyes stung with tears of shock, but I knew how to hide them 100%. Life with teasing Al and James (not to mention all my other male family members) had taught me to laugh off just about everything.
I slid back into my seat and looked at McGonagall with wide-eyed innocence.
Her wand was in the air and her eyebrow was raised, like I'd interrupted her mid-sentence. The corner of her mouth twitched a bit, like she was trying not to laugh.
"Quiet!" She barked abruptly at the class, and we all fell back into line instantly.
Coming out of detention that night, I began to make my way down to the Quidditch pitch.
"Ouch," I muttered, massaging both of my hands. McGonagall had made me scrub her classroom floor for two hours, sans magic. "Crazy old woman..."
I had promised Melody I'd meet her down there and throw her Quaffles so she could practice hitting them out of the hoops. She was trying out for Keeper and had been for several years, but always lost the position to seventh year Marcus Finch.
Though how she expected me to throw to her without getting on a broom, I had no idea.
"Rose!" I blurted, seeing my cousin's red hair swaying in front of me as I jogged down the torch-lit hallways. "What are you doing out here this late?"
"It's not that late," she turned, grinning at me. "The sun's only just beginning to set." She gestured toward the windows to the left of us, where the sun was beginning to burn brilliant trails of magenta and fiery orange down the sky. "I was coming back from the Slytherin common room, I was there with Becca and Carrie. Where are you headed?"
"Just got back from detention." I rolled my eyes. "Now I'm off to the Quidditch pitch to help Melody practice. She's trying out for Keeper again, I said I'd throw some Quaffles to her."
"How are you going to do that if you won't get on a broom?" Rose exclaimed.
"I don't know," I admitted sheepishly.
"I'll help you," she decided.
"Okay. Wait. What?" I looked at her in shock as she began to walk down the stone corridor.
"I'll. Help. You," she said slowly. "Throw Quaffles. To Melody."
"I thought..." I started. That you hated Melody, I was going to say.
"I don't hate Melody," she protested, like she'd read my mind.
"Only Anna, right?" I rolled my eyes.
"Well, to be honest, Laine isn't my favorite person either," she informed me, not catching my point. I rolled my eyes again.
"Well, let's go then."
"Good thing my broom is at the pitch already-race you!" She called, already breaking into a run.
"It's on!" I yelled, beginning to sprint hard.
"I won!" I panted, touching a hand to the outer wall of the Quidditch pitch, doubling over and clutching my sides. We had just sprinted through the corridors and down the hill to the field, practically tripping numerous times.
Rose hit the outer wall just then, groaning and falling over. "I hate running." She wheezed between breaths.
"Me-too," I agreed, breathing hard. We walked into the field once we had recovered our breaths to see Melody zipping around the field, making the turns without slowing down.
"She's gotten better," I said.
"Wow," Rose agreed. She wasn't on the Quidditch team, but she had still been flying her whole life with the Potters and her Dad.
"Melody!" I called, waving my hands over my head. She pulled her broom around 180 degrees and slowly flew down over to us, touching the ground gently.
"Ready?" She asked, dropping to her knees to open the chest she had drug out of the Ravenclaw pitch.
"Hey, Melody," Rose said in an odd sort of voice. Melody looked up slowly.
"Hello, Rose," she replied, looking at me for an explanation.
She wants to help, I mouthed.
"Well...Rose is going to throw some Quaffles to you. I'm not really sure what I can do, since I can't go on a broom, but I'll watch," I offered.
"I thought I cured your flying problem?" Melody protested, pleading.
"Cured? It was made worse!" I exclaimed. "I'll stay on the ground, thank you very much."
"What happened?" Rose questioned.
"Long story," Melody and I said at the same time, dissolving into laughter. Rose looked a little hurt.
"Sorry. I'll go watch now-you two go!" I called, turning and jogging back to the stands and climbing up the stairs. By the time I was at the top and seated, Rose had retrieved her broom and was throwing expertly aimed shots at Melody, who was looking very disgruntled as she tried to block them. I winced every time she missed, which was a lot.
I wanted to shout at Rose to go easier on her. Had she come down here just to make her look bad?
"Could you let up a tiny bit, Rose?" Melody shouted, sounding close to tears.
"Wait-Melody, could you please come here for a second?" I yelled, running to the edge of the stands. She nodded and flew over without a look at Rose.
"Melody," I began taking her hand and helping her jump into the stands. "We've done this before, and you were amazing. Rose isn't any different-"
"-than us playing without brooms in your backyard with homemade goalposts?" Melody raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it's the same concept. Just think about that, okay? I know you can do this," I begged. I don't think I could take another week of depressed Melody if she didn't make the team.
"You know what? I can!" She said confidently, her eyes glowing with a sudden, new determination. "I'm going to!" She kicked off on her broom and rocketed back out to Rose, who held the Quaffle under her arm. Rose tossed the Quaffle, curving it toward the middle goalpost. Melody lurched into action and flew for the Quaffle, but not fast enough. Her fingertips just grazed it, and it flew past without a hitch into the goalpost.
"It's okay!" I shouted to Melody. "Just-just try again. Try to fly to it faster!"
Melody looked at me like I was crazy. "That's what I'm trying to do!"
"Okay, okay-sorry!"
She missed another, and then finally...smack. Rose had sent a slightly slower throw just to the left of her and she got in place with plenty of time to spare; she put her hand on it and sent it flying over Rose's head. Rose turned her broom and quickly dove for it, but it was too far away. It dropped and landed in the shadows with a clunk.
"Oof!" Someone grunted, and there was a sound of a body hitting the ground.
"What was that?" Melody wondered out loud. Rose dropped to the ground and jogged over to the shadows, with Melody at her heels.
"Merlin! Are you alright?!" I heard Melody gasp. I turned and ran quickly to the stairs, taking them two at a time. Who had we hit with that bloody Quaffle?
I finally made it out of the spectator stand and ran across the field to Melody and Rose, robes and hair flying out behind me.
They were kneeling next to some bloke who sat up, then jumped to his feet. He swayed a little, and put his hand on the wall of the stands to steady himself.
"I'm good, I'm great, I'm fine," he announced, blinking hard and flipping his dark hair.
"Are you alright?" I asked, coming up behind Melody and Rose. It was getting downright chilly now; the sun had almost set, and we were in the shade of the stands.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine, didn't feel a thing," the bloke said, taking his hand down from his head and crossing his arms over his chest, looking much like a stubborn child. He had a thick accent; the dark shadows covering his face made it difficult to tell what he looked like, but I believed he was fairly good-looking.
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, crossing my own arms over my chest.
"Yes," he said firmly. "I'm pretty sure I-"
"Then what's that blood on your head?" I nodded toward him. His brow furrowed and he put his hand to the spot I had indicated. His fingers came away wet with dark blood.
"It's tiny." He shook his head. "Head wounds bleed a lot."
"Then I think you're perfectly fine to tell us why you were spying on us," I said harshly, taking a step closer. I normally didn't go off on perfects strangers, but this bloke already had one strike against him; he was the one who'd been whispering with his headmaster about me in the classroom earlier. Besides, why else would he be hanging about in the shadows?
He opened and closed his mouth, looking surprised.
"Didn't think I'd caught on, did you?" I asked rather nastily.
"No, to be honest I didn't think you were the most intelligent Weasley," he said back coolly, and I spluttered angrily.
"Well that just shows-you-I-"
"Are you Roxanne Weasley?" He interrupted.
"Yes..." I said suspiciously, eyes flitting to Melody.
"Ah, so you're the one who's Father's twin was killed by the Death Eater?" He asked questioningly, eyebrows raised.
"Excuse me?" I spluttered. "Did you just-what?"
I turned around and began stalking up to the castle. It didn't matter that I had never known Fred; his constant presence in pictures, stories, and yes, in my own father himself, made his death a very sensitive topic for my brother and me.
"Roxanne!" Rose yelled after me.
"I didn't mean-" The bloke started to shout. As soon as I rounded the corner of the field I began to sprint back up to the castle. My insides felt all twisted and mushed, and I just wanted to be alone.
I gasped, rounding the corner of a corridor and bending over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath. I pushed my dark hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ears. The candlelight from the braziers threw a flickering light across the stone; the sky was now almost completely dark and I would soon be in trouble if I was found.
I stood back up and a wave of dizziness hit me like a wall. Maybe I shouldn't have run so far-
Roxanne.
"Hello?" My voice cracked. "Who's there?"
Was it Melody or Rose or that stupid bloke who'd followed me, or was it like...like the night of the Sorting? Was it that voice?
"Peeves?" I called, my accusatory voice echoing and bouncing off the walls. I was completely alone.
What was happening to me?
It must have been a week since the incident down at the Quidditch field and I hadn't talked to the Durmstrang bloke yet. Who was he? But...I couldn't very well go up and talk to him, could I? I had completely embarrassed myself, running off like that. Besides, it wasn't like he was lacking in female attention. Already he had several admiring Hogwarts girls and of course, an inflated ego and lots of narcissism to boot. It wasn't like I'd been staring at a haughty bloke like that, but he was rather attractive. He was tall with thick, wavy dark hair and his stature was lean and muscled. I knew all three of my best friends had already expressed interest in jumping him.
"Look at the Durmstrangs," Laine said, her mouth full of eggs. I crinkled my nose as bits of white flew from her mouth and speckled the wood table."They've actually begun to interact." She was right, but their Headmaster didn't seem to happy about it. Despite that he was always telling them to get to know us, he was now glaring in turn at each of his students who were scattered throughout the four tables, having found a new group of friends. Most of them were laughing hysterically.
"Yes, yes they have. Hey Laine, mind chewing first?" I looked pointedly at her mouth. She rolled her eyes and made a big show of swallowing, and I stuck my tongue out at her.
The ceiling of the Great Hall was bright and sunny, showing the morning sky. The Hall was scattered with a few early risers eating breakfast, and Laine and I were one of the only ones at the Ravenclaw table.
Except...I saw my cousin Al at the Slytherin table sitting with a Durmstrang girl. They were sitting beside each other, heads bent in as if they were sharing some cozy little secret. I narrowed my eyes; what was Al doing? He was-bloody hell, he was pouring her orange juice for her. Merlin, was this the Albus Potter I'd grown up with?
"Owl!" I pointed my toast at the bird swooping down and dropping a letter...into my lap. "Oh!" I said, my mouth full of buttered bread. "It's Harry's owl!" I untied the letter, completely forgetting Al.
"What?" I looked over to Laine, who was poking my arm.
"Hey, would you mind chewing first?" She asked in a nasally impression of my voice.
"You old cow," I snickered, swatting her in the arm.
"You old cow," she mimicked, swatting me back. I almost snorted orange juice out of my nose, which of course made her laugh even harder.
"Very funny," I murmured, eyes beginning to scan the letter.
Roxanne-
No sign of Dominique, Teddy, or Victoire yet, though Vic has been sending scattered updates about where she is, as I'm sure your parents have been telling you. I hope things are going well at Hogwarts for you, tell Professor Longbottom that Ginny and I say hello, and congratulate Fred for making it into Slytherin.
How is the task I suggested to you coming?
I know it's not an easy thing to do, much less in the time you have.
I snorted. That was an understatement. I thought back to the dinner our family had shared before the first day of Hogwarts, and Harry's odd request.
But I am proud of you for following through. I have the papers ready and trust me, the plan is completely foolproof. If, in the off chance it does fall through, we'll both be found blameless. Don't worry a bit. If you have any problems, feel free to owl me a letter.
Love,
Uncle Harry
"Oi! Fred!" I shouted to my younger brother at the table next to us. "Uncle Harry says congrats on Slytherin." He glared at me, disgusted. Oh, that's right. I wasn't supposed to talk to him when he was with his friends.
"Also he says he's got your teddy bear," I couldn't resist adding, and Laine snickered.
"Roxanne!" He wailed and waved his wand. My goblet of orange juice exploded into my face. He and his bratty little friends burst out laughing, and I seethed as it dripped off my hair and face, onto my robes.
"Fred!" I screamed, and they stopped cackling. Smart of them. I jumped up from my seat and began to sprint after him, wand in hand.
"Come back here, you little git!" I screamed, wiping the stinging juice out of my eyes. I stumbled out of the Great Hall, chasing after my brother's pounding footsteps.
"Oof!" I slammed straight into none other than the bloke who Melody had hit with a Quaffle almost a week ago. It felt like he was more of a bloody wall than a person-
I went tumbling to the floor and he stumbled backwards from the force I had hit him with. I let out a little moan-I had landed right on my tailbone. Perfect. I wouldn't be able to sit for hours.
"Roxanne!" Su Chang blurted from right next to him, and I realized then that I had interrupted something. Some conversation. They were holding hands and had been standing very close together.
"Oh-oh!" I exclaimed, my face as red as Su's.
"Excuse you," he stared down at me with an eyebrow raised.
"Excuse you," I snapped. I pushed myself to my feet as he took a step forward, and I found myself nose to nose with him.
"Erm..." I took a big step back, blushing.
"Er-I'll talk to you later, alright Stefan?" Su called, walking off.
"I will definitely be seeing you later, Su," he replied, but he wasn't even looking at her. I blushed, and then crossed my arms.
"Well," I said weakly, taking my robe and wiping the rest of the juice of my face. My hands were already sticky, and I knew my face was going to be as well. "Well, I'll be leaving..."
"You have orange juice on your face."
"What? Yes, I know that," I snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find my brother-"
"Weasley! Leonov!" We both turned to see McGonagall walking briskly down the corridor toward us, lips pinched seriously. "Just the two I need. Come with me."
Leonov-was that his surname?-and I exchanged baffled looks.
"Professor? Where are we going?" I asked, quickening my pace to keep up with her.
"What? Oh, Miss Weasley, you and Mr. Leanov both owe me detentions-"
"What? I don't!" I cried.
"Do not interrupt, Miss Weasley! How very like your father you are!" McGonagall snapped. I bit my lip to hide a smile. She had unknowingly paid me a compliment. "Well anyway, now you do owe me a detention. To answer your question, we are going to an office near the Astronomy classroom."
She gave an audible snort to follow the word 'Astronomy'; practically everyone at Hogwarts knew exactly what Professor McGonagall thought about this subject. It went something like what Uncle Percy thought of my cousin James's wild, unable to be tamed hair.
"Some very old star maps have been vandalized," she was saying. "And Firenze is extremely busy at the moment, and I need you two to see if they are salvageable-not that they're much use, anyway," she mumbled under her breath. "And to clear off all the ink on them."
I shrugged. It didn't sound like a big deal.
Until we got there, at least.
I suppressed a large groan when the large room came into my vision like a slap.
All sorts of huge, sheet-size rolls of yellowing, crumply old parchment were scattered across the floor and covering the desk in the otherwise empty office.
Not only were the majority ripped and torn, but it looked like Peeves the Poltergeist had come and upended entire jar fulls of ink across the intricately detailed maps. At least, I thought they were intricately detailed, because if I hadn't known beforehand that they were star maps, they could have been troll anatomy charts and I wouldn't have been able to tell. That's how covered they were.
"Siphoning off the ink is going to be tedious work, and you're going to have to try to preserve what's underneath," McGonagall said with her nose upturned, like she disapproved very much of this whole ordeal. "These are Hogwarts oldest and most accurate star maps...why anyone would want to destroy them...must have been Peeves...your cleaning is a favor to Firenze." She was looking unhappier by the minute. "Well, I'll leave you two at it. I'll come and get you when your time's up and believe me, I'll know if you leave beforehand." She gave us both her trademark stare and swept out of the room, closing the door behind us.
"Blimey," I sighed, taking in the sight once more. It looked even worse the second time, which seemed almost impossible. This looked worse than Hugo Weasley's room, and that was really saying something. The things that were growing out of that child's room could rival the Hogwarts greenhouses.
"This is pretty bad," the boy agreed. What was his name, Stefan?
"Yeah," I sighed. I hadn't really interacted much with any of the Durmstrang students yet, so I wasn't exactly sure what to make of this one. But I figured if we were going to be stuck siphoning off ink on paper that looked older than the Healer, Madame Pomfrey, we'd best know each other's names.
"I'm Roxanne," I stuck my hand out. "Roxanne Weasley." Though he already knew that, apparently, and also knew that my uncle had been killed. I remembered that from the Quaffle incident. Though how he knew, I had no idea.
"Stefan Aleksander Leonov," he shook my hand, grinning. Erm, okay, a full name. Was that customary in Bulgaria, or Norway, or wherever he was from?
He held onto my hand a bit too long until I extracted it, looking at him oddly. His grin only increased.
"Well!" He said brightly. "Let's get started!"
"You're pretty chipper," I observed, looking at him with even more suspicion. "Don't you know we're in detention?" Was he going to start dancing around and singing It's a Hard Knock Life?
Okay, maybe I had watched one too many of Aunt Hermione's muggle films with Molly and Lucy; they were both completely obsessed.
"Yes," he said, bending down and pushing some of the maps away to clear a space for us to sit. I began to help, carefully piling the maps on top of each other. The ink was long dried and beginning to crack in places where the perpetrator had poured it on especially thick.
I gingerly pulled at a piece with my fingernail, trying to see if it would just pull off. When I nearly yanked off a strip of the actual map with it, I set it down.
"They're so fragile!" I burst out. "I feel like if I preform a spell they're going to set on fire!" The bloke-Leonov-laughed although it hadn't been particularly funny. Okay, this guy was strange.
Ten minutes later, not a single drop of ink had been removed but at least we had worked out what bloody spells we were going to use. Yippee.
We had both turned in opposite directions, looking to our own maps-
It's the day.
"What? What did you say?" I asked, startled. There was that damned voice again! For the third bloody time this year!
"What?" Leonov turned toward me, his dark eyes filled with concern. Yeah, I would be concerned too if the person I was serving detention with began to accuse thin air of talking.
I didn't expect the voice to come again; this was only the third time this year that it had happened but I had already gathered that the spaces in between the sentence fragments were long and the actual sentences were few. And certainly none of my other four senses were rattled by it.
"Arghhh," I moaned, my wand clattering to the floor as I pulled my hands up, clutching my head and bending over, even though I was kneeling. A splitting pain was thumping through my head, and waves of heat were crashing over me as clear as if the room was on fire. Every time I blinked my view of the space in front of me shifted, falling in and out of focus. The room tipped and suddenly I was looking at it sideways; Leonov's panicked face floated before my eyes and I heard his voice as if I were underwater.
"Weasley? Weasley? Roxanne! Do you need me to get Madame Pomfrey?!" He was yelling. I really wanted to tell him to stuff it, he was only making this-whatever it was-worse.
My ears began to ring and I was pretty sure I began to moan again. My bloody head was on fire, and that incessant ringing was growing louder and louder-
You wouldn't think I'd be able to concentrate on anything else, but I almost...sensed something. A presence, someone struggling to say something. Then the pain in my head grew-
Unanticipatedly, it receded until stopping completely and I was left curled on the floor, hands clapped to my ears and my face scrunched up like I was in serious pain.
I cracked open an eye.
Leonov jumped back a little, like this sudden movement scared him. He had been kneeling over me, a look of fright on his face like what if this whacko dies on me? Will I be expelled?
"Weasley, are you alright? What happened? Did you have a seizure?" He began babbling, taking my hands and helping me rise into a sitting position. I started to protest; I really didn't need help sitting up, I'd been doing perfectly fine on my own with that particular task for sixteen years or so. But only sort of a hoarse moan came out of my mouth, sounding a lot like
"Stuu-uuugh."
Lovely. Here I had this attractive bloke who I barely even knew helping me sit up after some-some seizure thing where I had been hearing bloody voices and then I was making frog noises at him.
"It's okay, don't try to talk," he whispered. "Just-just take it easy for a minute, yeah? You sure you're all right?"
"Yes," I snapped, harsher than I had intended. Apparently my voice had returned. "I mean...yes. Sorry." I looked at him guiltily. He pushed back a chunk of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes and continued to stare at me with concern.
"Do you know who Viktor Krum is?" He asked suddenly.
"Er...no." What was he on about now? Wait a moment. The name did sound a little familiar...wasn't Uncle Ron always griping about him, saying how awful and horrible and evil he was...
"Was he a dark wizard?" I asked.
"No!" Leonov blurted. "He's my mother's cousin!" He continued, still looking shocked that I'd never heard of the bloke. "He was a professional Quidditch player."
"Not to be rude, but why exactly are you telling me this?"
"I want to play Quidditch professionally as well," he said proudly, completely ignoring my question.
"You?" I exclaimed, completely forgetting how strange this whole conversation was. "You got hit in the head with a Quaffle."
"Hey!" He protested. "I wasn't exactly prepared, I didn't see it coming-"
"Now why are you telling me this?" I burst before we could get off on a completely new tangent.
"Aren't you supposed to keep people who have just had seizures talking?" He looked at me, confused.
"I think that's for people who've been in shock, actually. Though I actually think it's pretty shocking to hear-flipping-voices!" I was suddenly shouting, and Stefan Aleksander Leonov's eyes grew wide.
Why had I just said that?
"We should probably get back to the maps," I said quickly, casually, and he began nodding a lot. To be honest, he looked a bit scared of me now.
Once again guys, I'm really sorry for being MIA for so long, and if you could leave a review that would be great motivation to post the next chapter faster. ;) Thanks a ton!
-Cassia