I turned around in my seat, looking up to meet the twinkly dark eyes of Oliver Wood.
"Erm," I began.
"Want to go to Hogsmeade with me, then?"
Rose sputtered, Fiona began to choke on her food, Carolina's eyes widened, and I, being the ever smooth being that I am, gawked and stuttered, my mind racing to find a proper insult.
"Wood, I would rather spend a trip to Hogsmeade being accompanied by Professor Snape than someone such as yourself." Yes, Merlin dammit, Rue, you're good.
Wood simply cocked an eyebrow, "Really?"
"Yes," I replied hesitantly.
"Oh, well then," and with that he left, returning to the Gryffindor table.
Carolina turned around to face the rest of us, having watched Wood go back to his seat. She looked completely flabbergasted, "What in the bloody hell was that, Rue?"
Immediately, I was bombarded by the Spanish Inquisition.
"Did he just ask you to Hogsmeade?"
"Did you just tell him no?"
"Would you really prefer to go on a date with Snape?"
I sighed, "Girls, girls, girls..."
"What?" They all cried in unison.
"What is going on between you and Wood?" Fiona asked, leaning in closer to the center of the table. We all followed suit. Serious times call for serious girl talk at the dinner table, obviously.
"How should I know? You know how we were paired up in Magical Creatures? We didn't even have a proper row! And," I continued incredulously, "he called me 'Rue'!"
Utter silence. At least until Rose let out a rather unladylike bark of laughter, turning around quickly to face the Gryffindor table and crying out, "Oi, Wood! Atta boy, mate!"
She turned around laughing to herself when Wood gave her a thumbs-up in response whilst stuffing his face with Merlin knows what. I reached across the table and lightly smacked Rosaline on the cheek.
"Now, love, that was uncalled for."
"Oh, Rue, it's about time one of you gave in. I just figured it'd be you first."
"What are you going on about?" I inquired, turning back to my plate and spooning some mashed potatoes into my mouth.
Fiona smiled brightly, "Rue. My dearest, darling Rue. We all know that you and Oliver fancy each other," she paused. "Secretly, of course."
I snorted, "Hardly!"
A few weeks later, I found myself sneaking around the corridors with Fred and George Weasley, preying upon ickle little firsties and generally wreaking havoc.
"So," I began as we climbed the staircase, "are there any Gryffindor Quidditch try outs this year?"
"No," Fred replied.
"Why'd ya ask?" George stopped, turning to me.
"No reason," I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Our first match, however, is coming up," George supplied.
"So I've heard."
"Any brilliant plans that we should prepare ourselves for?"
"Perhaps."
The twins exchanged a look, "Oh, c'mon, Rue! You've got to tell us."
"No, it'll ruin the surprise!"
In my efforts to "focus" on my Ancient Runes assignment, I found I had become further distracted. The twins had upped my excitement for the upcoming Gryffindor v. Slytherin match in early November. True, it was about a month away, but this trick would require time and much dedication.
I sighed, turning to Carolina. She didn't look up from her Transfiguration essay, so I poked her with the tip of my quill.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"I have a question."
"Yeah, so?"
"I was hoping you might answer it."
"Lemme finish my sentence," she turned back to her work to finish what appeared to be a run-on sentence. I don't see why she even bothered. She knows she's rubbish at writing anyway.
"Right, so this question?"
"I was wondering..."
"Yeah?"
"How easy do Scots take offense to people poking fun at their cultural heritage?"
She stared at me before clearing her throat to answer, "How should I know?"
"Well, isn't your father Scottish?"
"Well, yeah-"
"So, how easy would he take offense to my Scottish-themed insults?"
"Fairly easily, I'd reckon. He gets rather uptight about that sort of stuff, you know."
"Would you say that I could apply the transitive property in this situation and say that all Scots would be fairly upset, then?"
"Well, I dunno," she paused thoughtfully before a look of horror graced her features. "Oh, no."
I furrowed my brow, "What?"
"You're planning something, aren't you?"
"What's it to you?" I cried, sweeping up my belongings in a very grandiose fashion and taking my leave. I hurried up to my dormitory, excited that tomorrow was a Friday.
The next morning I sidled into a seat, having just barely made it to Defense Against the Dark Arts in time. Thank Merlin, too, because Lockhart would surely find some reason to give me detention and have me answer his fan mail for him. Why that man receives so many perfumed, lavender-coloured letters is beyond me. I don't see the appeal, but blonds never really were my type.
Fiona let out a sigh as Professor Lockhart entered the room, along with the rest of the female students in my class. I rolled my eyes, joining the ranks of most of the males in the room.
I let my mind wander has Lockhart began recounting some splendid tale of one adventure or another, and my eyes, completely of their own volition, followed suit. Which is exactly why I found myself studying Oliver Wood, who sat in the row next to me with some other wanker Gryffindor of his year. I honestly couldn't tell you why certain thoughts began to cross my mind, such as how he looks when he's attempting to concentrate during class, or how his hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed, or how he was absentmindedly scratching the tip of his quill against the paper in his notebook.
Much to my surprise and embarrassment, he scanned the room and his eyes landed on me, having caught me in the act of staring at and studying him. No, I wasn't giving him the once over or anything, I was simply studying him. Like one would study notes or something like that. But more to my embarrassment, he winked before turning back to his parchment, dipping his quill in ink, and scratching something in his notebook.
It was a few minutes before a bit of paper landed in front of me. I turned my head to the Gryffindor across the aisle, holding the piece between my fingers and showing it to him. He pointed to Wood sitting next to him.
Out of sheer boredom, I unfolded it.
Bored, are you? Me too.
I raised an eyebrow, looking up at Lockhart (who was ever oblivious), and then turning to Wood with a questioning look. He motioned that I should respond. I sighed before dipping my own quill in ink and quickly penning a response to his chickenscratch.
Very bored, which is why I'm actually replying to this, mind you.
Satisfied with my response and the pretentious appearance of my penmanship underneath his pathetic excuse for writing, I pulled out my wand and flicked the paper back over to Wood. A smirk appeared on his face as he read it, quickly inking the tip of his quill.
Well, that's an improvement from the usual response I would get from you. Not so sassy when you're writing, I suppose. I think I prefer you this way, RVS.
I rolled my eyes, before I realised that Oliver Wood has just used the word "sassy." I had to stuff a few fingers in my mouth to keep from laughing, but once I gained control of myself, I wrote back.
Oh, you don't like the "sassy" Rue, do you? Hmm, I suppose I'll just have to be sassier. Honestly, Wood, you're ridiculous. Stop pretending to be pleasant and go back to your regular, git-y self. Please.
Come on, Von Straussburg. I'm not pretending to be pleasant.
Since when are you so earnest?
Dunno. How were Quidditch try outs?
Haven't had them yet. Holding them on Sunday afternoon, if you must know. And, no, you are not invited.
Why would I want to come watch your awful team anyway?
You'll pay for that. Now, I'm going to return to paying attention to the lecture, thank you very much.
To my annoyance, the bit of paper had once again returned to a place in front of me. Why couldn't Wood just leave the conversation alone? It isn't as though it was particularly stimulating in anyway.
My Hogsmeade offer from a few weeks back is still on the table.
At that moment Fiona glanced over, saw the paper, and snatched it. I glared daggers at her as she read through it, a small smile forming on her lips. Evil witch. She grabbed her own quill, dipped it in ink and responded.
She would love to go with you, Oliver!
No, Fiona, I most certainly would not desire spending a perfectly pleasant afternoon at Hogsmeade with Haggis Boy. Now, Wood, more of your conversation would infect my brain, so I really must bid you adieu.
I glared at Fiona, but she returned to staring dreamily at Lockhart after giving me a wink and a pat on the shoulder.
"Wood asked her to Hogsmeade again," Fiona sang as we joined Carrie and Rose for lunch. I rolled my eyes, not particularly interested in the conversation bound to ensue.
"Ooooh," Rose cooed, "and what did you say, Rue?"
Carolina snorted, "Course she said no!"
"Indeed, I did!" I replied chirpily.
"I wonder why he's so suddenly interested, though," Rose said as she turned in her seat to watch him. She quickly added, "Not that I at all disagree with this budding romance."
"Dunno. Don't really care either," I said, downing some pumpkin juice.
"You should care," Fiona advised.
"Oh, come off it. I'm not interested in him. And damn him if he's interested in me! There are too many issues for me to even consider fancying that bloke."
"Yeah, like what?" Carolina asked.
"Well, first off, he's a Gryffindor. Secondly, he's Scottish-"
"Hey! I'm half Scotch, ya know," Carolina cried dramatically.
"Go on, then," Rosaline encouraged.
"Well, that's about it, really."
"That's it? You only have two reasons for not being interested in Oliver Wood."
"Yep," I replied.
"You're a right piece of work, Rue," Fiona shook her head.
I smiled brightly, "And yet you still love me!"
Hey there, readers! It's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry about that; it's difficult to do college work and keep up on fanfictions at the same time. Pity, eh? Oh well- the new movie has inspired me to hop to and get some chapters out for ya before the summer is over! So, be happy! Oh, and goodies to whoever can find the Shakespeare line. As always, that which you recognize from the series belongs to J.K. Rowling. That which you do not recognize likely comes from my crazy mind. And, also to keep up with tradition, please review because I love reviews, you love reviews- we all love reviews! Yours.