[A little review of the characters presented thus far, in order of house, then introduction...
-Wesley: a Hogwarts house elf.
Ravenclaw
-Allison Wood: main character. Long wavy brown hair, hazel eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Elizabeth Clay: a dorm-mate and best friend of Allison's. Tall and willowy blonde, grey eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Amber Ross: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Small, pixie-like blonde, bright blue eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Elisabeth Scharkey: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Expressive, bad-tempered girl of Asian descent. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Holly Williams: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Thin, sharp-featured blonde, green eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Scarlett O'Riley: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Prefect. Ruddy-faced dirty blonde. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Antony Marwick: a house-mate of Allison's. Head Boy. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Rose Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.
-Luke/Lewis/Louis Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, Roxanne, and Rose's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.
-Matt Edwards: an attractive house-mate of Allison's. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Stephen Stroupe: a house-mate of Allison's. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Ernie Rousch: Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Ravenclaw Head of House.
-Kayla Milam: the final dorm-mate of Allison's. Tall, athletic and blond. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.
-Maggie Anderson: a house-mate of Allison's. Small and mousy-haired. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Ravenclaw.
-Carl Mauldin: a house-mate of Allison's. Built and gorilla-like. Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Ravenclaw.
-Timothy McCullin: a house-mate of Allison's. Thin and gangly. Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Ravenclaw.
-David Lankford: a house-mate of Allison's and her "secret weapon." Average-looking and nondescript. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Third year Ravenclaw.
-Victoire Weasley: James' cousin and Dominque and Louis' older sister. Engaged to Teddy Lupin. +3 Ravenclaw.
-Danny Devries: fifth year Ravenclaw.
Gryffindor
-James Potter: male lead. Tall and broad-shouldered, with messy black hair and amber eyes. Refuses to wear his glasses properly. Chaser One & captain on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor .
-Fred Weasley: a cousin of James'. Tall and gangly, and a spread of freckles and light brown hair despite his dark skin. Sixth year Gryffindor.
-Molly Weasley: a cousin of James and Fred's. Head Girl. Seventh year Gryffindor.
-Roxanne Weasley: a cousin of James and Molly's, sister to Fred. First year Gryffindor.
-Hugh/Harvey/Tarquin/Hugo Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's, brother to Rose. Third year Gryffindor.
-Minerva McGonagall: Headmistress.
-Nick Riggins: a friend and year-mate of Allison's. Keeper on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.
-Lena Banks: a year-mate of Allison's. Overconfident, arrogant Seeker on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.
-Neville Longbottom: Herbology professor. Gryffindor Head of House.
-Lily Potter: James' younger sister. Beater on the Quidditch team. Third year Gryffindor.
-Teddy Lupin: James' godbrother. Engaged to Victoire. +5 Gryffindor.
-Danny Malcom: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Gryffindor.
-Joe Kaufman: Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor.
-Samuel Wood: Allison's younger brother. Fourth year Gryffindor.
-Jesse Hubbell, Arthur Latimer and June Parker: Friend's of Sam. Fourth year Gryffindors.
Hufflepuff
-Chandra Hauge: Muggle Studies professor that had a constant cold. Hufflepuff Head of House.
-Mark van Hulle: Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and Seeker. Short, brown-haired and muscular. Fifth year Hufflepuff.
-Lucy Weasley: James' cousin and Molly's younger sister. Sixth year Hufflepuff.
-Sterling Whisby: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Sixth year HUfflepuff.
-Robbie Mabb: Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Hufflepuff.
-Kirsten Milbury: Keeper on the Quidditch team. Fifthy year Hufflepuff.
-Mickey Derickson: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Hufflepuff.
-Aurora Camillo: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Hufflepuff.
-Kendall Brown: Beater on the Quidditch team. Third year Hufflepuff.
Slytherin
-Mr. Ruppenthal: Caretaker.
-Darios Calvios: the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and Chaser. Blonde, arrogant and snake-tongued. Seventh year Slytherin.
-Ramon Naguchi: Astronomy professor. Slytherin Head of House.
-Albus Potter: James' younger brother. Surprisingly well kept hair. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Slytherin.
-Quinton Alberta: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Third year Slytherin.
-Delia Difiore: Beater on the Quidditch team. Seventhy year Slytherin.
-Raphael Posados: Keeper on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Slytherin.
-Lorcan Scamander: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Slytherin.
-Theodore Wisz: Beater on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Slytherin.
And begin!]
Scoundrel! Chapter Six
The butterfly's wings flash in the bright sun, the shoot of thistle it currently perches on swaying precariously under its weight. Eyes wide, I crouch some feet away, entranced as the delicate creature picked its way up the thistle. It turns this way and that, but never seems satisfied enough to settle in.
"Wit you up t', weanie?" At the sound of the rough, low voice, the butterfly immediately takes off, climbing high into the sky. I follow the path of its flight until I can't see it anymore.
"Da-a," I complain, drawing out the vowel to express my irritation. "Yeh dinnae haff to scare it aff!" I stand up grumpily, dust off my knees and crane my head to glare at him; I only reach his waist. I clutch a battered toy broomstick in one grubby hand.
"Naw need to be dallyin' wit butterflies, Alli," Da scolds. "Come on, then. Let's haff us a fling, aye? Wit baw wil I' be today?" He kneels by the small wooden crate at his feet and points toward one small golden globe.
I shake my head vigorously. "Ah dinnae like that un, Da. Tha' un's no' for me."
Da chuckles. "Nah, me either. Wit about there?" He gestures to two twin struggling spheres of iron.
I shake my head again.
He smiles. His face, contorted by one long, raised scar that stretches from temple to jaw, twists in a gruesome parody of pride. "The Quaffle, then. Tha's my girrel." He stoops to unfasten the straps around the red-stained ball. I avert my eyes when he pauses to catch his breath, one hand going involuntarily to one disfigured knee.
"Da! Ma says sooper's ready!" April comes across the field of green, long blonde hair and summer dress flowing freely in her wake. She moves to stand next to our father. "She says no' Quiddeetch until evereything's eaten."
Da winks at me and I beam at the inclusion. "Well, if yer ma says so, ah suppose we'd best comply."
April begins to lead the way back to the small cottage that was our home, but stops suddenly when that same butterfly flits across her path. She freezes and curls her lip in disgust at its brilliant yellow and black coloring, then gives a little scream when it flies in her face. "Geroff me, geroff me!" she yells, arms wind-milling.
"Dinnae be such a jessie, April," I say snidely.
My father's jaw drops. "Allison Mae! Where did you lear-en tha' wor-ed?"
I point silently at April, who is still flailing to get away from the butterfly. I'm sure the butterfly just wants to get away from April.
Da sighs. The expulsion of air from his lungs suddenly makes him seem far older than he really is. "Dae'n use i' anymore-ah, aye-right? We all haff our-ah fear-ahs. Her-ah, April." He catches April's hands in his own, allowing the butterfly to escape.
"Hm…" I said, examining my appearance in the mirror. I glanced toward Elli, who was reclining lazily on her bed, reading the Daily Prophet. "What do you think? Hair up or down?"
She rolled onto her stomach. "Why does it matter? Have a hot date?"
I winked. "Only you."
Elli laughed. "Down. I'm always telling you, leave it down, so listen to me for once." She returned to her reading.
I quickly ran a hand through my hair before finally abandoning the mirror. I snapped a hair band on my wrist just in case.
"Look at this!" Elli said suddenly. "The Wizengamot is going to meet over whether or not to include Centaurs as 'beings'."
I snorted. "It's not going to work obviously. They've already tried it tons of times before, and the Centaurs want to be classified as 'beasts' anyway."
"Still," she mused. "The world is changing, isn't it?"
"Yeah, the world's changing, and you clearly are not," I noted. Elli was still in her pajamas. "Have you forgotten about Hogsmeade? I want to go to Honeydukes while there is still merchandise on the shelves."
"Oh, alright." She put the Prophet aside and stood.
"Oh, alright," I mimicked. "Who was it that was so excited when they announced the date?"
She scoffed. "Who gets excited about Hogsmeade anymore?"
You, I said silently. "Me," I said aloud. "Plus, Ginny Potter is going to be signing autographs at the Three Broomsticks! Isn't that just awesome?"
Elli dug in her trunk and pulled out jeans and a T-shirt. "Is she the one who wrote 'A Life Among the Muggles'?"
"No, you numpty, Ginny Potter is from the Holyhead Harpies!"
"Oh, right."
"She's only the best Chaser of the century, I can see why you might mix her up with Kevin Grabausky," I said, rolling my eyes.
Elli put her hands on her hips, fully dressed. "Why are we wasting time talking about this? I thought you said you wanted to go to Honeydukes."
I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to put your coat on? It's October. And this is Hogsmeade. Which is above the snow line."
She shrugged. "I'll live." She walked past me out the dorm.
"Okay, but don't go making for my coat when you freeze your arse off," I said, following her. "It's not like you have much fat to burn."
"Ah! It's freezing!" Elli exclaimed as soon when we'd disembarked from the carriage.
I raised my eyes to the heavens and silently pleaded for mercy. Then I extracted an extra coat from my charmed purse and held it out to my stupid friend. She took one look at it and shook her head. "I swear Elli, even if I have to force your skinny arms through the sleeves you are going to wear this coat."
"Fine," she relented, taking the coat.
We popped into Honeydukes first, where I hovered between Sugar Quills and Acid Pops for ten minutes before selecting one of each.
"Oh, don't buy so many, Gertrude, you'll get fatter!" exclaimed a sixth-year Ravenclaw a few aisles over. "If you ever want to get as fit as me, you're going to have to cut down on those."
Elli rolled her eyes as Julianne Bradley came into view, flanked by her goons Gertrude Cross and Valerie Mason. Blonde, curvy and undeniably pretty, everyone's eyes involuntarily followed Julianne, and she knew it. And flaunted it often.
"It's only a couple of Chocolate Frogs," said Gertrude, looking miserable.
"And she's not even fat!" Elli whispered hotly to me. But while her eyes were busy glaring at Julianne, I dropped the candies I'd picked up back into their respective boxes.
"Let's go," I muttered, feeling a bit sick and hating myself for eying Julianne's figure with some jealousy as she passed by.
"What? Oh, okay." Bemused, Elli followed me outside.
"Where do you want to go next?" I said, blinking rapidly.
"How about—oh, ooh," she stopped suddenly, her eyes fixed on something just over my shoulder. "You know what, I actually just remembered something that I have to do. Let's meet up later, 'kay?"
Bewildered, I stared at her back as she left. "Thanks," I muttered, scuffing the edge of my shoe on the pavement. I glanced quickly around at the chattering current of students surrounding me; face growing hot, I ducked into Tomes and Scrolls so I didn't become that awkward girl who just got ditched by her friend.
I'd only been perusing the dusty shelves of the halfway-abandoned shop for ten minutes before I came face to face with none other than Mr. James Potter.
"Oh, hello, Wood," said James, face slack with surprise.
"Hello," I replied in a high-pitched voice. My gaze slid to the side as I recalled last night's adventure in the Prefect's bathroom. I coughed and mentally shooed the image of a naked Potter away. "What are you doing here?"
"Just, ah, browsing," he said, ruffling his hair.
"You realize this is a bookshop, right?" I looked at him suspiciously. Some of my hair fell annoyingly into my face with the motion and I swiped it angrily to the side with a flick of my fingers.
James blinked and assumed an expression of pure affront. "I do read, you know," he informed me.
I raised my eyebrows.
"Okay, fine. I'm hiding from Fred's fan club," James sighed.
"Weasley has a fan club?" I said.
"It's full of all the girl's he's ever dated and all the ones who want to date him," he explained. "Recently he's been less… promiscuous, and they want to know why."
"And they're bothering you for answers," I finished. "I'm… sorry for your troubles?"
"Do you know what it's like," James began suddenly, acquiring a slightly crazed look, "constantly being followed by girls upon girls upon girls who aren't even interested in you? They have no boundaries."
"Um, no," I said, backing up a step. "No, my life is quite normal."
"Ah, normal," he sighed. "I miss that."
"Has your life ever been normal?" I asked.
"Well, no," he admitted. "But there were times… well, it was only a dream. An illusion. And it won't do to dwell on dreams."
Something in his eyes, something so incredibly—but I can't explain it.
It made my heart ache.
"When I was 14," I started, swallowing painfully, "my father and sister had a huge row. I thought it would never end, but it did, and my sister left home for good. My father locked himself in his study and refused to come out for days, and my mother cried herself to sleep every night. My brother would sneak into my room after everyone had gone to bed so he didn't have to be alone."
I rubbed my jaw absentmindedly, lost in the memory. "One night I dreamed that she had come back home. When I woke up, I heard a noise downstairs in the kitchen, and I rushed down, taking the steps two at a time. But it was only the neighbor's cat, wandering the night in search of food. He'd gotten in through the open window.
"For one beautiful, brilliant moment, I believed that she'd really come back, that everything was going to be okay again. Isn't it strange, how we stack all of our hopes and dreams on top of each other, and we're surprised when it all falls down like a house of cards. But the kitchen was empty, and so was my dream."
I paused. "I got a postcard from her yesterday. She wrote to say that's she's fine, how am I, she got that job in Muggle Relations like she's always wanted, how's Ma, how's Sam, but not once did she mention Da. I guess she still hasn't forgiven him." I stopped, because I didn't know what else to say.
After a while, James broke the silence. "Have you? Forgiven him, I mean."
I smiled slightly. "We're family. We're supposed to forgive each other." I felt my mouth go slack. "But I haven't. I can't."
More silence. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I've been trying to think of something equally heartrending that I might share with you as exchange for what you've just told me, but honestly, I got nothing."
He looked so sincerely apologetic that I started to laugh, holding on to one decrepit bookshelf for support. James smiled cautiously before breaking out into soft chuckles as well.
"That's alright," I said, giggling. "I'm sorry for springing such a somber mood on you with no warning. I've no idea what came over me."
"I just have that effect on people," he joked, leaning back. The dim light from overhead glinted on his glasses, perched as always on top of his head.
I reached out with one hand. "Why," I said, touching the black rectangular frames lightly with my fingertips, "are you always not wearing your glasses properly?"
"Glasses are important to Potter males' images," he told me. "Unfortunately, my eyes aren't really bad enough to elicit true prescription, these are just for… reading…" His voice faltered as his gaze met mine.
My breath hitched. We were really quite close at this point, my face only inches away from his. Funny, I'd never noticed, but his eyes, luminous in such proximity, were flecked with the tiniest spots of gold—really quite mesmerizing, the way they flickered in the light—
"Potatoes," I blurted out.
James drew back. "I beg your pardon?"
"Um, potatoes," I hedged. "Don't you just love them?"
Why am I in Ravenclaw. Someone needs to fire that stupid Hat.
He ducked his head, and I had the faint suspicion that he was hiding a smile. "Yes," he exhaled. "Mashed potatoes are the best."
"Aren't they just," I said. We stood there awkwardly for a moment. I smoothed the front of my sweater. "I should, uh, really get going."
"Yeah. Yeah, the fan girls will have left by now," said James, ruffling his hair yet again and revealing the tops of his scarlet ears.
We both made for the door at the same time. "Oh, please, go ahead," I said, not meeting his gaze.
"Ladies first," he ordered.
"If you insist," I said, and got the hell out of there.
It was only when I'd collapsed in the Ravenclaw common room that I remembered I'd forgotten to get Ginny Potter's autograph. "Damn it!"
Merfolk differ widely in coloration, sharing the distinctive characteristics of fish of their region. Male merfolk, known as merman, are rare and solitary creatures except during the mating season. They can easily be distinguished from the mermaids by their larger size. As with any culture, merfolk leave behind a significant amount of… [1]
I closed the book with a frustrated slap that reverberated around the silent, near-empty library. Then with a resigned sort of attitude I reopened the dusty volume.
As certain species of tropical fish, merfolk may be capable of physical transformation called protogyny, whereby a female mermaid can change herself physically into a male…
Sweet Merlin. If humans did that… I entertained myself for a good five minutes on the possibilities.
"Men are stupid," I thought aloud. The world would be a better place without them.
"I beg your pardon?" Fred Weasley had been peering over my shoulder and was now staring at me in polite shock.
"Oh, well, by men I meant… well obviously that generalization can't apply to your, you're… Wait, why the hell am I defending myself to you?" I finished clumsily, glaring.
He raised his hands in mock self-defense. "Merely just standing up for my own gender. Surely we can't be all that bad." He grinned cheekily.
My glare intensified. Those pearly whites ain't gonna fool me. "Why are you spying on me? Did Potter ask you to?" I thought of my Quidditch notes, hidden in the bag beneath my feet.
He put a hand on his heart. "Me? Spying? I am insulted, truly and most deeply. Fair lady, forgive me, if I do not look kindly upon this incident."
Aristotle's left fuzzy slipper. I rolled my eyes. "Good sir, if thou art truly of the noble sort, pray leave me to suffer penance in sweet solitude."
Fred's smirk only widened. "Ah, but sweetness, for sweetness' sake, is an opposing force to any true purpose of self-reparation," he retaliated, fluttering his eyelashes for full effect.
"Merlin," I breathed, suddenly distracted. I caught Fred's chin with one hand and, ignoring his exclamations of surprise and protest, turned his head this way and that to get a better look. "How long are your eyelashes? That is obscene. And impossibly improbable. They can't be natural."
"Um, if you don't mind—"
"Did you use a Hair Extension Charm on your eyelashes? Not only are men stupid but desperate and also vain, to boot."
"If you could just—"
"That is really dangerous! You could poke your eye out! Or your eyelashes could grow so long that you blind yourself!"
"Enough!" Fred barked, ripping his face from my grip. He straightened his tie with a huff and pulled his robes back into appropriate positions. "I admit, I underestimated you. You are a devious opponent. Until we meet again." He withdrew from his robes a small pouch and stuck his hand inside. Suddenly the entire library became pitch-black; several people screamed; and when the air became clear again, Fred was gone.
"Dramatic exit much?" I said. I counted to ten, cast a furtive glance around the library, then ducked under the table to check the contents of my bag. Thankfully my notes were still present and intact.
So if not for the upper hand on my obviously superior Quidditch intellect, why was Weasley, Potter's right hand man, keeping an eye on me?
I wonder if it had anything to do with potatoes.
[1] Taken from Arthur Spiderwick's Field Guide to the Fantastical World Around You, by T. DiTerlizzi and H. Black.
[A/N: Aaaaand I'm back! Again. Please don't hate me. Hey, we're all one big Harry Potter family and we love each other, right...?]
