Chapter Two

I was sitting on the usual spot at the table, ignoring the conversation of my two friends Crystal and Alice; which I would have normally joined in if it weren't for the thoughts that were gnawing on my mind. Something... or should I say someone who I've seen before but never put much attention besides the obvious. But why all of a sudden? That was pretty much the question that kept me away from the 'real world' at the moment.

"So what's that pretty head of yours thinking?"

Normally, I would have dismissed such question and kept with what I was doing; unfortunately the question was coming from someone who I really didn't took a liking to.

"Should that really be any of your business?" I asked, finally turning to the sandy blonde haired boy in front; a person that wasn't there in the last couple of minutes.

Dale Macmillan was your average tall and thin looking person; someone who I've known since third year. I remember him being a timid boy but that suddenly changed as the years progressed, and I personally didn't appreciate this change since he became well... annoying. Of course, it seems I'm the only one who thinks of him this way.

"If there's a way I could help; then it is my business" he said, propping his elbows on the table to lean on.

"I appreciate it but no" I stated simply as I pushed my empty plate to the side.

"If I were you, I would be care...ful" Crystal said to him; obviously breaking away from whatever conversation she was having with Alice. Of course, this really didn't help my case at all.

"Who?" he asked, and I just knew something was coming up. "The girl who always follows the rules?"

"The girl who's always so serious?" Alice added.

"The girl who was once a te--"

"Oh hush it!" I exclaimed, which was enough for them to actually pay attention or they where surprised by my outburst either way it worked. "I know who I am and I really don't appreciate it that you three have to just bring it up" I uttered before placing my head flat against the table top.

"Hey, we were just kidding around" Dale said, "We'll leave you alone; better yet we'll ignore you!"

And it has been three minutes since I've picked to be ignored and no sooner was I was once again sitting straight up. Just then I noticed that I had a clear view of the person in question. I quickly looked down at my hands, not wanting to be caught by my friends and much less by him.

It couldn't be could it? No! of course not. I was not going to turn myself into one of his fan girls. Oh no, I wasn't going to fancy him like the others for that'll be the last thing I do! Sure, he's good to look at and that should be enough. Besides I've never fancied him before and why should I do so now? 'Because he's perfect' that little inner voice of mine replied.

As if those where the coded words that broke through my thoughts; I looked back up just in time to see him leave the table and obviously the soon-to-be Great Hall.

"Um... Isabelle?"

I quickly turned towards the voice which happened to belonged to Crystal. "What?"

"Do you mind showing me those uh... creative words you wrote an hour ago?" she said, and I could just tell she was picking her words perfectly.

"Why?"

"Er... Crystal just told us how creative you where with forming specific words in such a form that it was just...you know, perfect" Alice said, giving me a weak smile.

I couldn't help but chuckle at my friends' lame attempts in trying to avoid an outburst from me. "So you want to see them?"

"Yes" she replied with a slight confused look.

"I don't have it with me" I said "must have left it in the classroom"

"Why don't you go get it? I mean, it was quite a poem and if I were you I would have kept it" Crystal said, shedding the person she was a minute ago.

She had a point, a good point. The poem might have been embarrassing and all but it was still quite creative and that's something that doesn't normally happen to me.

"True" I said, as I stood up from my seat with my book bag, "I should go and get it and have all of you three cherish such wonderful creativity!" with that I left the table.

I was about ten feet away from the door into the classroom when Professor McGonagall stepped out. "Professor" I called as I quicken my step towards her.

"Yes?" she answered as she glanced towards me before the thick book she was carrying; as if making sure she had the right one.

"I left something in the classroom and if it isn't much bother, I would like to just go in and get it quickly" I told her, which wasn't necessarily a lie.

"Alright then, but close the door after you step out." she said as she stepped away from the door,

"I wouldn't normally do this but I'm in a hurry and I trust that you, Miss Rey, will be able to do what you came for"

I smiled and assured her that I will do what she asked from me after I leave the classroom; she nodded and headed down the direction from where I came from.

I closed the door after me, as I made my way toward the front of the class. From here I had a clear view of my desk, but not of my parchment. I was sure that it must have fallen upon the ground, so I went up to my desk and looked below, only to find that there was no parchment in sight.

"Just great" I muttered to myself, knowing that I wouldn't be seeing that parchment no more. So basically I just came up to this classroom for nothing.

I was about to turn and leave when I noticed a piece of parchment on top of a different desk far from my own. Hoping that it was my mine; I quickly walked up to it and picked it up. But instead of finding my own words, I found something totally different.

As beautiful as it may seem

It still tells me you're lonely

As funny as it may seem

I want to know

To whom his heart belong

That it doesn't belong to you?

Or why is it that his attention

You haven't yet caught?

I'm just guessing

But if he's ignoring your presence

Your heart to him doesn't belong

I stared down at the paper, rereading the written words. This couldn't be a coincidence, right? Could someone at the same time leave a poem in just the same way I did? No, it couldn't be. Besides, it sounded much more like a response to something than an actual poem. And if it was, does that mean this person is waiting something from me? What do I have to lose if I answered? It wouldn't hurt, that's for sure.

I quickly took out a piece of parchment as well as a quill and sat myself down to write.

So there it was; a reply to something someone had wrote. The question now was this: Where would I leave it? The next class would start, so it wouldn't be such a good idea for me to leave it in such a visible spot. But where? It has to be in the same location that this person had left it for I'm sure they'll look for it in the same place. Why, under the desk of course! Sure, I'll need to leave some sort of clue but I'll get to that later.

I was sure it took me less then a minute for me to tape the 'note' under the desk with the magic tape I had; now I needed to leave a little clue for him. I suppose all this time I was fooling myself that I was replying to someone who's gender I didn't know, but it was obvious it was a guy. Of course it was, a girl wouldn't reply to my poem in the same way a guy would, right?

It was the obvious thing to do, writing something on the table. But I had to do so carefully because anyone would then be able to read what I've written. So I took my quill and placed it on the left corner of the desk and wrote only two words: 'Under Poem' Hopefully he'll manage to understand them and look under.

After placing my quill back in the bag, I stood up and quickly left the room; closing the door behind me just as Professor McGonagall had requested.

Two days. Two days ago had been the last time we'd had Transfiguration. Of course, my schedule showed that I wouldn't be having it today till after lunch. Oh joy, didn't whoever makes the schedules know it was driving me crazy? I mean, I left a pretty stupid poem for someone to reply to. Was the poem actually found in the first place? By the right person? By McGonagall? Can you imagine Professor McGonagall reading something like that? She would probably blush while she remembered the last time someone wrote a poem for her. Yuck!

So right now I'm here in my bed unable to open my eyes thanks to a splitting headache I have courtesy of a late night escapade with a fifth year.

"Sirius, wake up," I heard someone say. It was probably Remus or Peter 'cause James was a heavier sleeper.

I rolled over and cover my head with my pillow. Needless to say it was no use whatsoever.

"SIRIUS!"

James Potter was up before me, I must have the hangover of the century.

"Sirius, we're going to be late for Potions," James shouted. That almost got me up. "And there is a fifth year Ravenclaw knocking at our door waiting for you to walk her to class." That made me roll over in bed all over again. Doesn't that girl know I have girlfriend? Hello, it's called fooling around. Nobody understands me, I'll never get tired of repeating it.

"Sirius Horatio Black!" that got me up.

"I thought we agreed second names are confidential, Jamesipoo," I replied. "And get rid of the girl, please. My girlfriend has issues other than me cheating on her."

"And it's such a mystery why you always go for blondes," said James chuckling. "How many times have you cheated on her this month?"

"Twice, and it's not like she doesn't cheat on me anyways," I said, going into the bathroom.

"Why are you to still together anyway?" James asked standing on the doorway.

I shot him a look. "Sirius you hook up more with other girls than what you hook up with her."

"Whoever said that was the reason?" James rolled his eyes. "Really, she's a good girl to hang out with."

"There's always the choice of friends with benefit."

"James, I'm not you. I flirt. I cheat. My girlfriend flirts. My girlfriend cheats. It's a vicious circle," I said, walking past him.

"So, you'd rather have people talking behind your back?"

"Where is she?"

"Great Hall."

"Thanks."

I walked over to my bed to get dressed.

"Going to break up with her again?" Remus asked James.

"They've never been more than a month together," James replied.

"Ten galleons they are back together before dinner," Peter said.

"Fifty they're back together before lunch," said James.

"You guys making bets about me?" I shouted from behind the curtains.

"If you weren't so predictable Sirius we wouldn't be making any money," replied Remus.

"I bet you a hundred galleons I don't get back with her before the end of the year," James, Remus, and Peter raised an eyebrow, looked at each other, and smirked.

"Each?" asked Peter.

"Yep."

"You're on."

"You guys are going to wish you'd never made that bet," I said walking out of the dormitory and into the Common Room.

"And why is that?" James asked.

"'Cause I'm moving on to brunettes, we can actually carry on an intelligent conversation.

The guys snorted. "Uh-huh," said Remus. "That's like telling James he's not going to ask Lily out."

We all laughed as we walked out of the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall.

Potions. The worst subject ever and I was actually good at it. But two hours of torture were too much, especially when Peter's cauldron kept making strange noises and emitting a nasty smell.

After potions we had Herbology and then lunch. My favorite subject. I had broken up with Ashley this morning, she didn't take it very well. But then again, girls never take it well. I guess it's because they'd rather be the "dumpers."

During lunch I kept looking over my shoulder over to Alicia, who spent the entire hour crying. I think she was actually doing it to see if I would crawl back, but I don't crawl. Girls do that, they're needy. And they don't understand me. Nobody does.

Transfiguration, I'd spent the entire day waiting for this moment and when I sat at my usual sit there was no sign of any reply. I should've expected that as it had been two days.

"Sirius, what are you thinking about?" James said under his breath as McGonagall went on and on about vanishing large objects.

"Nothing," I said shrugging and resting my head on the table.

'Under Poem' I read. Somebody was trying to tell someone something. Poem. I repeated in my mind and then I remembered. I slid my hand under the table, carefully touching until I felt a piece of parchment. I tore it from under the table and opened it, hiding it from James' view.

I'll first start off by saying that you have written quite a remarkable response to what I've written; I'm not sure whether it was intentionally or not but either way it was quite excellent. Of course I can't help but wonder why you, whoever you are, had decided to do so.

Honestly, I'm glad that someone happened to have a passion for writing such words in style and not be afraid to show it. Of course, I could be mistaken but that I wouldn't know, would I? and I'm sure that poem isn't meant to be answered...

I was planning to make this a short note and even though it doesn't look like one, it is (as if you haven't guessed). So I'll end it with this:

Wow to the eye sight and the whimsical desire

For what the eye sees, desire will inspire...

I read the letter like three times before I replied. I taped it under the table just as the classed finished. I don't know why, but I felt good.