A/N: The (possibly also) long-awaited (for some other people) next chapter. Here you go!
Almost Romantic by Spring Turkey
On Saturday morning, I did not come out of my room. I woke up with a pounding headache, and tried to suppress the memory of making out with Albus Potter the night before. After chasing Rose down the corridors, I vomited profusely beside her, and she simply brought me to my bed without a word.
I simply stared at my reflection in my mirror, not bothering to comb my unruly, damp hair. The thing that bothered me more than anything – since I knew that Rose and Al would rapidly get over this incident – was the nagging worry that James saw me. I couldn't explain to myself why I was worried. James didn't care about who I snogged and where. And hadn't I resolved, not one week before, to be fully over James Potter this year?
"Elizabeth Wood!" a familiar voice screeched, accompanied with abrupt banging on my bedroom door. Jane. How could I forget about her?
"I'm not here!" I shouted from my bathroom. I could faintly here her 'Alohamora!' from the other side of the door, and braced myself for the attack, when only seconds later, the bathroom door was banged open.
"I can't believe you! I thought we were best friends! I had to find out from Rose that you were snogging Albus Potter last night. Really, Elizabeth? Have you no sense?" she scolded me fiercely, worse than my own mother, really. "You think the way to get James to come after you is to go for his younger brother?"
"Who said I wanted James to come after me for anything?" I muttered, compulsively grabbing my brush and running it through my hair. "Just because I used to have a crush on him, doesn't mean I still do. I was drunk, Jane. Intoxicated, smashed, pissed – use the adjective of your choice. And I don't think anyone but Rose was sober enough to realize what happened anyways."
"Oh do you now?" I was trying to understand her anger – really trying to understand, actually, because it was illogical. Did not make sense. "I talked to Rose, and she said James saw you, and he 'couldn't believe your childish behaviour.'" I couldn't suppress my scoff.
"Mister Girl-a-week is calling something I do childish? I really don't care, Jane, and I really don't understand why you're making such a big deal about this." We finally exited the bathroom (a rather odd place for a conversation, I thought), and I sat down on my unmade bed.
"Because, Eliza, I was sure this was the year you two would finally end up together," she said matter-of-factly, as if I should have known this as well.
"Well, you were sorely mistaken," I replied. She looked down at me, a sort of mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Fine. Whatever. Can you at least get dressed so we can go to Hogsmeade?" Jane requested, feigning boredom with our earlier topic of conversation.
"I'm not going anywhere. I have firmly decided to cease and desist all activities that could contain fun." She raised her eyebrows at me. "Besides, I have a two-foot essay due for McGonagall, an overwhelmingly difficult Arithmancy chart, and my Ancient Runes Essay will not be doing itself."
"That's what Sunday's are for, Elizabeth. Now are you really going to be such a terrible friend as to make me go alone? So I can be prayed upon by the hormone-driven male population?" I sighed deeply.
"Fine, fine – I'll go. But I'm going to wear my most boring sweater and attract no attention," I informed her, rapidly changing into boring jeans and a plain, grey sweater. I preferred to look like I didn't try, to compare with Jane, who actually didn't try, and always looked beautiful. My dark, wavy hair hung lifelessly around my pale face, and I left it at that.
"And we're off!" she announced, leading the way outside.
We trudged through the grounds, toward the tiny village, mostly with Jane chattering away about other interesting happenings at last night's party.
"And I'm sure Rose isn't going to tell you about how she threw up on Scorpius Malfoy after she brought you home, or about Lily getting very drunk very fast, and accepting a dare to break into the Hufflepuff Seventh Year Boys' dormitory," Jane gossiped. Her secret indulgence – which no one else knew about – was gossip. No one would ever think that, about beautiful, smart, charming Jane Bennett, but Elizabeth, of course, knew better.
"And where did you disappear to, Miss Bennett?" I asked, just for fun. Jane enjoyed dancing at the parties, and usually spent the whole night on the dance floor, so I was surprised at the flush of her cheeks. "Yes?" I pressed, suppressing a giggle. She must have met a boy, I thought.
"Oh, you know, around. Dancing, mostly," she said evasively. This time, it was I who graced the eyebrow raise.
"Uh huh, and what of the rest of the time?" I pried. Her blush was very intense at this point, that my interest was actually piqued.
"I may or may not have gotten acquainted with a member of the opposite sex," she said without looking at me now. I held my silence to let her fill it with more details. She bit her lip. "Fred Weasley."
"I knew it! Finally, a poor boy has captured your heart. Well, at least your mouth," I smirked at her.
"It was nothing, we just sort of… snogged a little," Jane laughed. I laughed too.
"Well, at least we can tell Rose that one of us will be marrying into the family!" She hit me playfully on the arm.
"It wasn't serious, Elizabeth. It was just friendly."
"Right. Because I snog my friends all the time."
"Well apparently…" she grinned. I rolled my eyes again, as we finally entered the village. "Shall we grab some breakfast?" I nodded, as she steered us toward Madame Puddifoot's – the only place other than the Hog's Head which sold breakfast, while unfortunately being packed with swooning couples.
"Table for two, please," I told the wait-witch. She nodded and sat us in a far corner beside the window, where most of the kissing booths (okay, only I called them that) were out of view. Except for the very clear and beautiful view I had of James Potter and Rae Davies. "Ew," I said, causing Jane to whip around.
"Good thing you're not interested," she whispered, turning her attention to her menu.
"Yes, very good thing," I said, unable to stop myself from looking. That was a bad idea, though, because when he finally removed his mouth and looked up, all he saw was me staring.
"That was very desperate of you, Wood," he said from his seat. I averted my gaze instantly, feeling the blush on my cheeks. Rae looked a little confused. "I have a whole host of other family members you can go after to try and make me jealous, if my little brother wasn't enough." His voice was venomous. I sunk into my seat. I was used to James making fun of me in public, but he had never actually been mean.
The other people in our vicinity were slowly turning their attention to James.
"And I suppose some other Fifth Year's hanging around are dying for the Head Girl's attention," he spat. I didn't know what to say. I ran from my seat, only just hearing Jane threaten to remove his testicles before she ran after me.
"I wish I wasn't such a wimp," I said to Jane, as we marched back to the castle, after spending all of fifteen minutes in Hogsmeade.
"He's just a prat, don't blame yourself," Jane said hotly. "He must really be jealous for him to say such horrible things." I stopped walking.
"You think that was jealousy? Dearest Jane, I think I've known James a tad bit longer than you, and that was loathing." I couldn't believe her blindness.
"No, I don't think it was, actually," she countered, continuing to walk. I rolled my eyes and walked after her.
It was a strange feeling of freedom, actually. No longer would I have to torture myself about stupid James Sirius Potter. And for that, I was grateful.
A week after the 'incident' with James, I sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, playing chess with Rose, while Albus lazed in a nearby chair, and Jane was 'helping' Fred with some Potions homework. Right.
"Check," I said, with all of my focus on the game. Rose frowned, pondering her next move. Then we heard the scream.
"My hair!" the girl's voice said. I turned around to see a very slimy looking Emily Thomas – a Fifth Year. I stood up and scanned the room as a Head Girl reflex. It appeared someone had dumped a bucket of bogies on her head, and from the high-five just exchanged between James and Fred, I had little doubt who was responsible. The steely glare he gave me communicated all the words he didn't say –Look at me pranking someone else. I didn't know why it bothered me.
"James Potter, detention," I bellowed, exercising this Head's right for the first time. He snorted.
"Yeah right, Wood, as if I'd come to your detention," he said. I felt my face grow hot.
"You absolutely will, and you can lose Gryffindor ten points as well." If he was shocked at my reaction he hid it rather well. "You can meet Slughorn tomorrow at eight." To make my point that I was not backing down from him, I resumed my game of Chess with Rose, as if nothing happened, though I felt him glaring daggers at the back of my head.