The Multiple Attempts of Lysander Scamander to Get a Girlfriend

Chapter Two

"You asked Phoebe Angus out?" Lorcan said. "Dude, what were you thinking?"

Lysander didn't say anything.'

"You shouldn't have asked her out. She's way above your league."

"So a girl who has to use a magazine to get guys is above me league. Who does that leave me with?"

"You can always try Arzigger Vane," Lorcan said.

"No, not Arzigger! She's just a celebrity-obsessed prude, like her mother."

"Hah, little bro! I'm sure that if Arzigger asked you to the Yule Ball you'd not only say yes, but you'd kiss her right then and there with such a passionate kiss that people would think you guys had been dating for years."

"I do not like Arzigger!"

"I've seen your shoebox, Lys. You have four photographs of Arzigger in there. And three of them aren't even moving photographs. Be careful, or you might start collecting stamps soon."

Lysander was used to his brother joking about his still photographs. The truth was that he felt that a still photograph captured the moment more than a moving one. Plus, all the girls in the Muggle magazines he had seen at department stores when his mother asked him to go because interacting with Muggles was one way to keep from thinking of Nargles and Wrackspurts and Crumple-horned Snorcacks, were in still photographs, and those girls looked gorgeous that way, not flimsily flitting about.

Lorcan never went to those Muggle places, always telling his mother that there was not a chance that his grandfather's nonsense would keep Lorcan from succeeding in the world. And he always joked about Lysander getting too exposed to this Muggle stuff and falling in love with it, though Lysander was sure that the only Muggle manufactured thing he would enjoy over the wizard version was the still photograph.

But Lorcan was not to know that there was something else Muggle-y that Lysander was starting to take a liking to. A girl he always saw in a crystal ball he had bought at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He kept trying to tell himself that she couldn't be real, since the shop, run by George Weasley and his wife, was full of joke items. But somehow he couldn't achieve it. He liked her very much. And sometimes he felt like pretending that they could actually meet and that she'd go to dances with him, and he wouldn't have to worry about other girls. But as long as they were separated by the crystal ball, she seemed even further away than the girls walking the halls of Hogwarts.

He also wasn't quite sure why he ras a Muggle. Maybe because it she was a witch, she would feel him gazing at her through the crystal ball and use magic to get herself out so that she could be with him. And yet it seemed almost silly to think of her as being in there, since it wasn't a prison—she had a farmhouse to her back and there was fertile land and she walked paved roads to get from one place to another. The farmhouse seemed to always be the same, though she appeared to be constantly moving. Lysander almost wondered if Muggles never grew tired from watching her.

He went to watch her after Lorcan left to be with his girlfriend, Dominique Weasley. The farmhouse was behind her as usual, and she was riding on a unicycle. She barely managed to avoid a duck that had appeared in the road. Her legs propelled the unicycle with such immense force. Lysander knew his heart belonged to her.

"Aguamenti!" a voice called, and Lysander felt himself drenched with water.

"Oh sorry, did I get you wet?" asked Lenora Primwop, girlfriend of Pjeret Tanglou, one of Lysander and Lorcan's roommates.

"Perhaps," Lysander said.

She took the crystal ball out of his hands. "Why are you playing with one of these? You aren't in Divination."

"Um, a girl who likes me offered it to me."

"Who, your sister?"

"I don't have a sister."

"Mother, then. No girl would give you anything valuable unless she was related to you."

"You don't have to be so blunt."

"Sure I do, Lysander. If you don't learn it now, you'll keep on chasing girls who won't have anything to do with you."

Lenora was the only girl Lysander could talk to with confidence. Too bad she was taken. Not that she would want him, taken or not. He knew that, for she always looked at him with disdain.

"Where's Pjeret?" she asked.

"How should I know? He's not my brother."

"And you know where your brother is at all times?"

"It's a twin thing. You wouldn't understand."

Lysander thought he saw mist appear in her eyes, but he must have imagined it.

"You're right," she said. "I wouldn't understand."

At that moment, Pjeret entered the room. He had earrings which he had to remove before classes. He whispered in Lenora's ear, probably an apology for being late.

Lenora dropped the crystal ball as she lifted her arms to put them around Pjeret's neck. However, she dropped it gently. Lysander was sure this was intended, because he thought it might have broken had she not been careful to ensure it landed on one of the throw pillows that lay on the floor, rather than smashing into the floor itself, which would have shattered Lysander's heart irreparably.

"Get a room!" Lysander said, as the heat between Pjeret and Lenora started getting really intense.

"Oh, Lysander, didn't notice you were here," Pjeret said.

"This is a dormitory, you know. Not a private place."

"Lenora, let's go find an empty classroom."

"Yeah, lets."

Lenora did not glance back at Lysander as she let Pjeret drag her along.