Chapter 11

I hadn't spoken to James for three days. I was so angry I could barely see straight. I couldn't focus. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't hold a proper conversation with anyone. I couldn't do any work. My mind also wouldn't think about anything except James.

Also, in the recesses of my mind, I knew. I knew I was hurt. I hated that James defended her. How could he? He was my best friend.

And thus the cycle went. From anger to hurt to rage to upset to every conceivable emotion in between.

Classes were bad.

I sat in Transfiguration, morosely twirling my quill and staring listlessly ahead while Professor Townsend droned on about properties of Animagi. James usually sat next to me, but since we weren't currently speaking he was sitting behind me. I could feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of my skull. I absently rubbed the back of my head.

"Now, Miss Hobbes, the Animagus will require how much time to transform?"

At the sound of my name I snapped to. I looked up guilty and hazarded a guess, "Err …"

I heard James sigh and murmur behind me, "Fifteen seconds."

My spine straightened and I said, "Fifteen seconds."

I sat, my face burning in humiliation, for the rest of the class. As soon as the bell rang, I hurried over to Luke and dragged him to the common room for free period. I didn't look at James.

Being at meals wasn't a walk in the park either. James had taken to sitting at the Ravenclaw table with HRH and darting me furtive glances when he thought I wasn't looking.

HAH. I had to forcibly make myself not look at him. It was all I could do to tear my gaze away from him.

The next day, I sat forlornly with everyone else at the Gryffindor table, playing with my food. How dare he sit with HRH when he should be on hands and knees apologizing to me? HOW DARE HE?

I was seething. As these thoughts crossed my mind, I became increasingly angry.

"Err, Milla, you alright there?" said Char cautiously.

"Yeah," I grumbled moodily, "I will be eventually."

Char and Miranda exchanged worried look.

Their pity was overwhelming. I needed to get out of here. I pushed myself up and said, "I'll see you later. I'm going for a run."

Wow, I was becoming Miranda.

However bad everything else was, Quidditch practice was unbearable. I couldn't skive off because James was captain and I also loved Quidditch. It made me sane.

But James was making me go insane. Because he was cranky (presumably because of our very bad row?), he was driving us extra hard and it was miserable. At the same time, it felt good to forget my anger and numb it through Quidditch.

A week after the fight (not speaking to James for a week? HOW? This was the longest in our ENTIRE LIVES that we'd ever gone without speaking), I was running my sixth lap, I decided to pull off my tank and just run in my sports bra. It was too bloody hot. I dumped a bottle's worth of water on my head, and it ran down my hair, onto my face, and wet my back and it felt damn good. I shook my hair out and started to run.

Three laps later, I was done and completely out of breath. I stood there, my chest heaving, and my hands on my knees. I stood up straight, and stretched, bringing my gaze up.

James was staring, his brown eyes wide.

Hang on a moment? Why wasn't he staring at my face? What was….

Oh.

NO. James was staring at my breasts? HAHA.

Of its own volition, a smile spread across my face. Even though I was supposed to be angry.

James noticed I was staring at him staring and he ran a hand through his hair and shook his head like a wet dog. He had a look of anguish and… desire flit across his face. He looked, in a word, tortured.

Well, let him torture himself. After all, takes care of my job of getting revenge, doesn't it? I turned and left, satisfied.

And this was the best revenge of all.

James had us do another Quidditch practice the next day and I couldn't get his look from yesterday out of my head. On some level, it made me happy that he noticed I was a girl, and not just plain old Milla Hobbes, best mate.

After doing fifteen laps (FIFTEEN? Was James out of his mind? And why was he being extra mean today?), I decided to take off my shirt again to finish the last four. By the end, I was so exhausted that I promptly collapsed in the middle of the pitch. I laid on the pitch, sweating and breathing hard. Merlin, what a vigorous workout.

I looked up at the sky, lost in my thoughts. What a beautiful fall day. Suddenly someone was standing next to me, their feet next to my head. Wait, I recognized those trainers.

Oh, shit, James. I sat up angrily, pushing myself off the ground and turning to leave without a word. I started to walk as quickly as I could.

"Milla!" he called after me. I ignored him.

"CAMILLA!" he roared. Fuck. He was mad. I turned back and walked slowly back to him. He was giving me a furious look, his broad shoulders set in a tense position.

"We need to talk. Now," he said abrasively.

I crossed my arms defensively. "So talk," I said brusquely.

His stance softened as he took me in. So did the hard look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Milla," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I immediately melted. Damn James for knowing what makes me stop being angry. Anger was good – manageable. Hurt was not. It was something I wasn't used to dealing with, and it scared me.

I looked down. "Me too," I mumbled.

"Come here," he said, outstretching his arms. I immediately hugged him and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. I suddenly remembered I wasn't wearing a shirt and I was embracing James. Fuck.

"Er, James?" I said hesitantly.

"Yes?" He looked down at me inquiringly.

"I'm, er, not wearing a shirt, and you're hugging me." I pointed to my sports bra.

A strange look passed over his face before he shrugged. "So? S'not like I haven't seen you in a bra before."

"True," I said slowly. "But won't Lucia be mad?"

"Fuck Lucia," he said feelingly. "I don't give two shits. You and I have to talk now. I can't bloody stand not speaking to you. It's driving me mad."

This made a warm glow spread inside me. James missed me. Even if I knew I fancied James, I missed my best friend the most.

I smiled slightly. "Okay, let's talk."

"Why did you insult her?" he asked bluntly. Wow, way to be subtle.

"I don't know. I just … I got so angry that you were with her instead of us like you usually are. I miss you, James."

He hugged me tighter in response.

"Milla," he mumbled into my hair. "You're my best mate. Nothing will ever change that. I love you."

But not in the way I wanted him to.

However, now was not the time.

"I know," I said in exasperation. "I love you too. But why did you defend her when she was being such a cow to me? I come first, don't I? You've known me since we were zero. We grew up together. You know me better than anyone. And for you to defend her … made me furious," I finished.

He nodded into my hair, and finally lifted his head and rested his chin on top of my head.

"I get it. But you didn't need to be so bloody rude."

"James, you don't! My point is that I'm supposed to be your best mate. Not Lucia. And you're spending all your time with her. This isn't even about the row in Hogsmeade. It's that you hardly spend time with me. Or anyone, for that matter. You're always with her."

I had to remind myself to say Lucia and not HRH. Bleeding cow. Wrecked everything.

He squeezed me tighter. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

I nodded against his chest.

"I'm going to try to spend more time with you. I know I've been with her a lot, but with everything going on it's been tough to juggle everything," he promised.

I smiled. "One more thing, James," I said with a glint in my eye. "If you ever defend her over me again, I won't speak to you ever again."

James laughed. "Deal."

"Oh, and for the record, I don't like Lucia," I added.

James's face sobered up again. "I know. That's a problem."

"Too bloody bad. No one likes her. So I'm not going to try to be nice to her. Sorry."

He gave me a final squeeze. "Fine, Milla. Just keep talking to me. I need you with me at all times. Do you know how many times I turned to exchange a quip or comment with you and I couldn't because we weren't speaking? I've been running mad all week!" he said.

Well, that made me happy. A girl couldn't ask for more. Well, except dumping HRH, but that'd be asking too much, wouldn't it? That'd be unreasonable, unfortunately.

"Me too," I said simply. Because it was true. Above all, he was my best friend.

With his arm around me, we went on one of our infamous walks around the lake.

That night on patrol I had a giddy smile on my face. I couldn't help it. I was so happy that James and I were best mates again.

"Well, you're bloody cheerful," commented Ben.

"I know," I said ebulliently. "James and I made up."

Ben put his arms around me in a congratulatory hug. "That's brilliant."

"Isn't it? I'm so relieved we're talking."

"How did it happen?"

"Well," I began enthusiastically, "I was on the pitch after practice and James came up to me and we just kind of worked things out."

"You're so lucky you don't have problems anymore."

"Well," I said ruefully. "There's still HRH and the fact that I fancy him and he doesn't reciprocate. But for the moment, that's okay."

Ben grimaced. "I'm sorry. And it seems of late, that I've er …"

My gaze snapped up to his face. "Go on."

He sighed. "It seems that I've developed a bit of a tender for Charlotte."

I shrieked and clapped my hands. "Finally!"

He looked shocked. "What d'you mean, finally?"

"Well obviously we all knew!" I shouted gleefully. "Oh, Ben, this is amazing! It's so cute. You and Charlotte will be perfect together, and you'll get married and have lots of adorable children –"

"Before we get ahead of ourselves in our rapture," he said dryly. "Might I remind you that Charlotte neither knows nor fancies me. She's waiting for her checklist," he added slightly bitterly.

I sobered up and patted him on the arm.

"She'll come round eventually. She definitely fancies you," I said assuredly.

"You think?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, I do."

"But she still acts oddly around me," he said.

"I know, but she's freaked out. She's Charlotte. She can't wrap her mind around the fact that she might fancy someone other than Mr. Checklist and who is her best mate."

"True," he said pensively.

"I recommend spending more time with her. She'll come round," I said encouragingly.

"Okay, I'll try that," he replied. "What about you and James?"

"It's not going to happen. He doesn't think of me that way," I said with a frown.

"I don't think so," he began but I lifted my hand.

"Don't bother. You needn't do that. But please, hurry up and date Char so I can win my bet," I said with a grin.

If I couldn't get James, I wanted my money from James at least, damn it.

I sat with a letter from Mum, lounging on my bed.

Dear Milla,

I'm sorry to hear you and James are having a row. I know you don't like his girlfriend, dear, but he's going to have on eventually. One day, sweetheart, he'll have a wife and you won't be first.

In the meanwhile, he'll come round eventually. You should apologize. I know you, you'll wait till he does first, but that's my advice.

Make sure Ian is doing his work and not just pranking people. That boy hasn't written me in three weeks and I'm worried.

Your dad says hi by the way.

We miss you darling.

Love,

Mum

p.s. Do you fancy James, Milla? If so, I want my money from Ginny.

ARGH! Bloody Mum. Betting on me! What the fuck!

Why did everyone know before me?