Settling the Score

The Devil Makes Use of Idle Hands

"Should we even try to wake her up?"

"Dunno, she looks kind of beastly…"

"Oi, troll!"

I jolted awake as a spurt of ice cold water exploded in my face, completely shattering the lulling warmth of my sleep. "Bloody—you!"

My livid, puffy eyes zeroed in on Alicia's grinning face and outstretched wand, narrowing with fury. She simply winked at me, pretty blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Rise and shine, we've got practice," Angelina announced as she gathered her tiny braids into a ponytail, already clad in her practice clothes.

"You've got practice," I muttered, ignoring the dismissive look Alicia sent me, "I quit, remember?"

"It's rather hard to keep track, nowadays," Alicia responded sardonically, pulling a thin jacket over her racer back tank top.

"You're going to freeze, Ally," Katie observed as she donned a thick, furry sweater, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail.

"I'll take my chances, Sasquatch," Alicia responded with a distasteful glance at Katie's admittedly hideous attire.

The brunette shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Angelina secured an elastic around her hair, giving herself a once over in the mirror and catching my still-sleeping reflection in the process. "Merlin, Andy, get up already!"

I grabbed my thick comforter and flung it over my head, trying to block out their annoying nagging. "Leave me alone."

Within moments, Angelina had wrenched the covers away, glaring down at me with a dark brow raised. "Are you going to get up by yourself or am I going to have to help you?"

My face crumpled into a scowl. "Touch me and you die."

"Have fun at my funeral," she responded as she grabbed my wrist and hurled me off the bed, sending me tumbling down onto the floor in a mess of sheets and limbs.

"Bloody hell, Johnson!"

"Oh, I'll show you bloody hell if you're not ready within the next five minutes," she countered, eyeing me in that intimidating, authoritative way that only she could really pull off.

"No," I grumbled stubbornly, rubbing a sore spot on my arm and crawling right back onto my bed. "I'm proving a point here – if Wood wants me back on the team, he has to learn to treat me fairly."

Katie stared at me with some semblance of understanding while Alicia scoffed, not buying into my justification.

"That's bollocks and you know it," she said as she shoved her hair up into its usual, perfectly messy bun.

"Honestly, let it go, Andy – Wood's just as stubborn as you are, he's not going to beg," Angelina added.

I looked to Katie for some sort of support – she was usually the most compassionate of the three – and sure enough I saw flickers of approval in her dark blue eyes. "I dunno, guys, I think she should try this. Oliver's been extra hard on her lately – two hundred bleacher suicides?"

Angelina's skeptical gaze took on a slow spark of consideration. "Well, yesterday was a bit uncalled for…"

"A bit?" I spat out, lifting my head up to glare through my tangled waves.

Angelina continued to stare for a contemplative moment before shrugging, pulling a thick, form-fitting jumper over her kit. "Try it for today, see how it goes."

I grumbled something unintelligible in response as the three finished up their bustling, getting ready to leave after a moment or so. "So, I'll watch for his reaction, yeah?"

I waved a hand dismissively at Angelina's comment, muttering something along the lines of 'sure' as she filed out of the room. Alicia, still in obvious disapproval of the whole ordeal, simply sighed in defeat, rolling her eyes and trudging out of the room after Angelina. Katie gave me a sympathetic smile, shrugging in understanding before exiting the room. I blew a dark, tangled wave out of my face, tossing over to the other side of my bed and yanking up my covers.

Bloody Quidditch… bloody friends… bloody Wood…

My mouth curled into a peaceful smile as I wandered into the Great Hall, fully aware that it was somewhere around noon. The scrumptious scent of Saturday morning brunch filtered its way to my nose, making my stomach rumble accordingly.

"Morning, Lee," I greeted with languid ease as I slipped into the seat across from him, making him quirk a dark brow.

"Andy," he replied, eyes flitting over me questioningly. "Why aren't you at practice?"

I tilted my head to the side, overdoing my supposed confusion just a bit. "What practice?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Quidditch, of course."

"Oh," I said with a casual laugh that probably sounded demonic, "I quit yesterday."

His concern immediately lightened into obvious humor. "Again?"

"Bloody hell, yes 'again'!" I snapped, annoyed with how trivial everyone made it sound. It was a big deal, I was serious!

"Sorry – blimey, deep breaths, Wiles," he advised, raising his hands up in surrender to my minor outburst.

I sighed, my eyes narrowing as I slumped down into my seat and folded my arms across my chest. Lee snorted as he piled some more eggs onto his plate, overdoing it in his usual habit of eating with his eyes.

"Aren't you hungry?"

I shrugged, still slightly miffed and unwilling to admit I was starving – for some reason it felt like giving in… which was weird.

"Suit yourself," he muttered, shoving a spoonful of eggs into his mouth and chewing like only a teenage boy could. His words reminded me of Katie's from earlier, which reminded me of something else about Katie.

Like her tiny little not-so-minor crush on the Neanderthal before me. A somewhat devious idea began floating about my head as the wheels started churning. I might as well make do with my time, right?

"So… Jordan…"

He glanced up from his food, mouth still chewing rather obnoxiously. "Whof?" I guess swallowing before speaking was a bit too advanced for him.

"I've been thinking…"

He shoved another spoonful into his half-full mouth, making it overflow. Lovely. "Abouf?"

Oh, piss – what have I been thinking about? Maybe I should think before I talk. "About, er… about relationships."

He slowed his chewing somewhat, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head as a low groan emitted from the back of his throat. "Bloody hell, don't you girls ever keep the mushy rubbish to yourself? Always want to 'talk about it'…"

I snorted at his pained expression, shaking my head dismissively. "No, no – not my relationships, just... relationships in general. You know, like anyone's—like Katie's."

I pretended to look casual, though I was watching him extremely closely out of the corner of my eye. There was no immediate reaction that I could see, just more inhumanly disgusting chewing. "What about her?"

"I – er," I said, not really knowing where I was going with this – believe it or not I wasn't exactly the messiah of dating, "Well, I think she might finally have her eye on someone."

"Really?" Lee said, to which I nodded enthusiastically. "How about that."

My eager expression flattened slightly. "Yeah… how about that…"

Okay, plan B.

"Well, anyway, how's your love life, Lee?" I asked with a forced ease, casually plucking up a golden slice of toast and nibbling on the edge.

He shrugged absently, eyeing my toast. "S'alright."

"Coz if you're looking for a change, I know a, er… friend of a friend… of a friendly friend… who might, you know, fancy you," I managed to convey with the grace of a two-hundred pound trucker, mentally rolling my eyes at myself – so much for convincing.

At this, his ears finally perked up and he stopped his chewing, his whole posture changing. "Yeah?"

I had to hold back a grin – blokes were too easy. "Yeah… pretty major crush, actually."

He leaned forward confidentially, eyes dark with devious excitement. "Well, who is it?"

I bit my lip with perfectly executed uneasiness, casting my eyes downward. "Can't tell you."

"Well, why the bloody hell not?" he asked, bits of toast flying out of his mouth in a lovely display of manners and etiquette.

"Because it'd be unfair to K—er, her," I quickly corrected, my sense of inner ease shattering immediately at the slip—way to fucking go, Team Andy. Averting my eyes briefly, I chewed on the crisp slice of toast, hoping he'd been chewing too loudly to catch the mistake.

He eyed me suspiciously, slowing his chewing and never letting his dark eyes leave mine. "A friend of a friend…"

"Of a friendly friend," I added, feeling rather stupid – he might see right through that, given he had any semblance of a brain.

And almost as if on cue, his eyes widened with comprehension, his entire jaw falling slightly slack. Oh, piss. Kats is going to hate me – she gets murderous when she's angry, and we sleep in the same bloody room!

Lee was staring at me with utter shock written across his face, his eyes slowly taking on a rather weary quality as he leaned back. "Bloody hell, Andy… I dunno what to say…"

"You weren't supposed to catch on!" I pleaded rather desperately, eyes serious and beseeching. He's not supposed to be so clever!

"Well, c'mon – the 'friend of a friend' routine is the oldest, most obvious trick in the book," he stated, expression still rather shell-shocked as he continued to eye me cautiously.

Why exactly was he looking at me like that?

"I was just trying to test you, you know – to see how you'd react?" I offered, furrowing my brow as he continued eyeing me strangely. "That's why I brought Katie up earlier, to—"

"See if I fancied her, yeah," he gathered, nodding his head and letting his eyes flit over my face rather critically, as if gauging me.

"So… what do you think?"

He wiped his mouth rather slowly, dark eyes still trained on my green gaze with slightly unnecessary intentness. "Well, I never really thought about it, but… I suppose we could give it a go."

He lifted the corner of his lips into a bit of a suggestive smirk, and I raised a dark brow – that was uncalled for. "Don't take this so lightly, Lee – I don't want anyone getting hurt, you have to mean it."

His grin faltered slightly, in its place a slightly anxious expression. "Well, truthfully – I don't really know what to say…"

I felt my face fall into a slight frown, feeling somewhat crushed – poor Kats would be devastated. "Oh."

He seemed to panic slightly at my crestfallen look. "No, no – don't get me wrong, you're a fantastic girl and all—"

My head snapped up, making my neck crick rather painfully in the rapid process. What!?

"—bloody brilliant Quidditch player and a looker and all that, but I just don't see you as anything more than a friend…"

He trailed off as he saw my shoulders begin shaking, my face contorted into a pained expression as I struggled to keep my laughter in. Unable to contain myself any longer, I threw my head down onto my folded arms, exploding with fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Lee exhaled sharply in horror, mistaking my laughter for hysterical crying. "A bloody amazing friend! One of the few people who makes me laugh harder than the Tomato Twins do, and… and…"

A resounding barrel of laughter twisted its way from my throat as I banged my fist on the wooden table, gasping for air.

"Oh, bloody hell, Andy! I don't know what to do… just please, please stop crying!"

I finally lifted my head up as far as I could, which wasn't much, my eyes red and streaming with tears of mirth. A new explosion of laughter threatened to pour out of my mouth at his panicked expression, though I somehow managed to contain it. "I-I'm not c-crying, you idiot!"

His pained face immediately faltered, his eyes welling with youthful hope. "Y-you're not?"

I choked back another peal of giggles as I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes and struggling to right myself. "Well, I am, but it's from laughing so bloody hard."

His face crumpled, utterly perplexed. "Laughing?"

I nodded as soberly as possible, a smile pulling menacingly at the corners of my lips. "Yeah – laughing, you do it when you find something hysterically funny."

His frown deepened. "But what's funny about getting rejected?"

I snorted sardonically, rolling my eyes. "I wasn't talking about me, you git – I was talking about Katie."

A horrified expression immediately overcame my face as I smacked a hand over my mouth, eyes widening with terror. His face slowly changed from confused relief to wide-eyed bewilderment, and he dropped the fork he'd begun to pick with a noisy clatter.

"Katie!?"

I shook my head vehemently, hand still clasped over my mouth with surprising force. "Noumf!"

His eyes narrowed slightly, though they were still ridden with shock. "What?"

"No!" I repeated, briefly parting my fingers to make my words comprehensible before shutting them back over my lips again.

"But you just said—"

"I lied," I interrupted, jolting to my feet impulsively. My brain was churning rather frantically as I forced a maniacal smile. "Good joke — ha-ha and so on…"

"Wait – Andy!"

I had already begun scurrying out of the Great Hall, mentally berating myself as I heard his curious call echo from behind me. "Sorry, er – gotta finish up some last second essays and, you know, things!"

I broke out into a fast-paced run the second I breached the double doors, barreling down the empty corridor rapidly and cursing myself to oblivion in my head. Honestly, I think I just broke every girl-code ever written.

Hitting on your best friend's bloke (albeit inadvertently) – check.

Spilling your best friend's secret – check.

Spilling you best friend's secret to the person the secret was about – check.

I'm screwed. Screwed at an angle, because when she finds out—and knowing Kats' keen senses, she will—I might have to stay awake every night just to fend off her attacks. She's the sly, quiet kind of killer, the one you won't ever see coming – silent for days and then BAM!

You die.

Wheeee.

A miserable groan escaped my throat as I skidded to a halt in front of the stone staircase that lead up to the Gryffindor tower and raced up the steps. I wasn't super sure what I was running from – it wasn't like Lee was chasing me or anything – but for some reason I felt like sprinting to the dormitories would remedy the situation slightly. The incline finally leveled out, giving way to a small landing on which the portrait of the Fat Lady hung, and she glanced at me with distaste, obviously miffed from my ignoring her the other night. She swung open without a word after I stated the password and I flew right through the empty common room, jogged up the stairs, kicked the door to our bedroom open, and slammed it shut behind me.

I knocked my head back it against the hard maple in a repetitive motion. "I'm. So. Bloody. Thickheaded!"

"I agree."

I nearly exploded out of my own skin in shock, jolting a few feet into the air at the sound of the dry voice. I pulled my wand out of the elastic band of my jeans and waved it in front of me threateningly. "Who's there?"

I heard a wry snort sound from a few feet away, and my gaze immediately flew over to the farthest bed, straining in the darkened room – I'd made the others leave the curtains closed so I could sleep in. "The Boogey Man – who do you think, Wiles?"

My eyes widened at the familiar accent, making me lower my wand and stomp over to the bed. "Wood?"

He was lounging across the bed – my bed, to be exact – looking utterly at ease, head resting against his crossed arms. "'Lo, Wiles."

My mouth fumbled wordlessly in shock for a moment, and I tried to gather my thoughts. What the bloody hell is he doing here? "What the bloody hell are you doing here!?"

He shrugged, and for the first time I noticed that he was clad only in the tight, white under shirts everyone wore under their Quidditch kits during the winter and a loose pair of trousers. It shouldn't have been distracting but it was.

"You didn't show up to practice this morning," he said, staring at me with a seriousness that greatly counteracted the ease in his tone.

"I'm aware of that," I responded, still flustered that he was in my room – my bloody bed!

"So, naturally, I came up here a little later expecting to find you a) dead; b) dying; or c) in a state of total paraplegia, when to my surprise, I find you aren't here at all."

"So you took that as an invitation to get into my bed?" I countered, waving a baffled hand at him, and he frowned, feigning a confused glance at the four poster.

"Is this your bed?"

"You know it is." There were friggin' snitches on the nightstand.

"I just took the messiest one – figured anyone who's this big of wreck wouldn't care."

"Shove off," I snapped, crossing my arms. "And get the bloody hell out of my room."

He shrugged. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he stated in that simple, patronizing way of his that set my teeth on edge, "you still haven't given me a reason for skiving practice."

"Try I quit the sodding team, you wanker."

He tossed me a cynical look. "You didn't quit."

"Yes, I did," I snapped, irritated by the fact that he thought he knew me better than I knew myself. "I clearly said 'I quit' yesterday after practice when you hauled me off the field like a sack of potatoes."

"That doesn't count."

I waved a sharp hand at him. "Obviously it does, or you wouldn't be here."

He narrowed his eyes in a 'be serious' way, though something behind me seemed to catch his stare. "How to Bewitch Your Wizard – Seven Ways to Steal His Heart?" he drawled, and I glanced back and saw it scrawled over the cover of one of the magazines Alicia had left by my bed.

With reflexes only star Keepers could boast of, he snatched it up from the floor and avoided my attempt to wrench it out of his grip by turning on his back and flipping to the correct page. "Hey, you can't just rifle through other people's stuff!"

He ignored me as he scanned the page, lips tugging up with every subsequent word. "What, you mean this isn't yours?"

"As a matter of fact, no," I declared, indignant on Alicia's behalf as he lapsed into a derisive chuckle as he read, making me once again swipe at it.

"My wizard loves it when I put a little extra into my appearance – he says my sexy eyes are worth any wait," he read, diving to the side as I tried to grab hold of the text. "What rubbish – waiting drives us mental."

"Maybe not all blokes are impatient sleazes like you," I snapped through clenched teeth, climbing onto my bed in order to gain better position for snatching the magazine away.

He snorted as he held the glossy text down against his chest and rolled over. "What would you know about my dating habits – in fact, what would you know about dating in gener—oomph!"

I shoved his head down into my thick pillow, muffling his mocking drawl. He reared his elbow back and caught me in the stomach, making me relinquish my hold as the air flew out of me from that simple gesture – Merlin, he was strong.

"You could've suffocated me," he accused, twisting his body so that he was half-sitting, chest facing upright.

"I mean, that was the plan," I muttered as I rubbed the sore spot on my stomach, and after a second, I seized the chance to grab hold of the glimmering magazine now that he was distracted.

I grinned as his face flattened, knowing it was stupid, but it was still one of our little spats that I had won. We never took them lightly, no matter how insignificant the subject matter was. In this case, it was Alicia's magazine, and I'd come out victorious.

"Keep your hands out of other people's personal stuff, you creep," I declared, tossing the magazine onto Alicia's bed for emphasis.

He parted his lips to respond when a momentarily perplexed look flickered across his face. His hand, buried deep within the vast expanse of covers and pillows, suddenly emerged with a dark blue, leather bound book clasped within it, making my entire face tense with growing horror.

My diary.

In Wood's hand.

My. Diary. In. Oliver. Wood's. Smarmy. Hand.

"Well, well, well," he goaded, waving the small book in front of him, "what ever do we have here?"

"Wood," I warned with newfound intensity, my eyes practically electric with anger, "put it down."

He glanced at the book, pretending to weigh the demand in his head for a moment before fixing me with a mocking smile. "No, I actually think I might want to read this one."

My glare flashed with anger, my fingers buzzing and ready to strike. "I'm not kidding in the least – put it down. Now."

Okay, so maybe I was being a little melodramatic here, but come on. That was my bloody diary. Granted, I never really wrote in it – I think the last time was back in fourth year when I was stuck in bed with the flu and had nothing better to do – but for all Wood knew, my deepest, darkest secrets were in that thing. What if I used it every day, like Kats did? What if all of my dark thoughts and fleeting dreams were scribbled on those pages?

Granted, they weren't, but still: this was a major invasion of privacy.

He simply stared at me, dark gaze alight with satisfaction – he knew he had me this time. With a slow, infuriating calm, he flipped open the book and cleared his throat. "September 13th – I feel kind of mental writing in this thin—!"

I pounced on him, wiping the satisfied smirk clear off his face. He grunted with protest as my body made contact with his, throwing him flat on his back and pinning him down against the bed. My hands immediately went for his neck, though he managed to grab one of my hands with his own, considerably lessening the choking effect.

"Give it to me!" I snarled as he wedged the book beneath his back and the bed, managing a pained grin as he shook his head.

"No can do." My hand clamped down harder around his neck, though I couldn't do much with only one hand. I tried to free my other from his grasp in order to try and wrestle out the diary from beneath him, but his fingers clasped around it tightly and wouldn't let my wrist go.

"Let go!" I cried angrily and lifted a leg from my straddling position, getting ready to knee him in a rather sensitive area. He quickly caught on, however, and instantly let go of my hand to grab my thigh.

In this brief window of opportunity I debated whether it would be wiser to reinforce my other hand in its choking endeavor or try and fish out my diary – and in my usual impulsive, irrational way of thinking, I decided to go for the gold.

I dove my hand under his back, twisting it in order to squish through his weight before finally making contact with his other hand.

Shit. "Give me my fucking diary!" I cried as I tried to jangle the book free, finding it impossible under the pressure of his weight as well as my lack of leverage – I was practically falling now that his hand wasn't holding my arm up.

Correction: I was falling. "ARGH!" we both cried in unison as my chest came crashing down against his, my head plunking against his shoulder and my long, dark waves falling across his face.

"Merlin, what are you—" he choked on the thick bundles of hair falling into his mouth, sputtering in attempt to spit the it out, and I figured that at least something was choking him.

"Not until you hand over my—"

"I'm not giving it back!"

"Then I'm not getting off!"

"—can't breathe; bloody hair!"

"Good!"

I raised my head a bit to glare at him, though my anger faltered when my nose brushed right against his due to our unexpected proximity.

His dark eyes locked with mine, and for a moment our wrestling came to halt as we both realized the situation with a silent 'oh'. We were on a bed, his hand on my thigh, my body straddling his, our faces mere millimeters away from each other. For a moment we simply stared at each other, breathing heavily from our forgotten anger and having close to no idea of what to do. The flecks of gold in his eyes were like little shards of sunlight.

And then a cursed blessing in the form of Alicia Spinnet happened.

"Well, this is cozy."

The two of us sprang apart almost immediately, struggling to disentangle ourselves from one another as Alicia stood in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame with a smirk.

"It's definitely not what it looks like," I spat, reverting back to my forgotten anger as I glared at him. That git still had my diary. "Give it, Wood."

He parted his lips to answer but Alicia beat him to it. "Really? Coz it looked like you two were having a bit of a moment – didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't interrupt anything," Wood asserted, tone suddenly all-business, no-nonsense as he tossed the diary at me, making me miss the catch in surprise.

"Uh-huh," Alicia replied skeptically, suggestive eyes flitting between both of us as Wood frowned, shaking his head.

"No uh-huh," he countered, making me snort derisively at how authoritative he suddenly became whenever he shrugged the Quidditch Captain mold back on. "Inter-team dating is strictly against the rules – no exceptions."

"Don't flatter yourself, Wood," I drawled as I crossed my arms, motioning with my head for him to leave now that I had my diary back. "You can go now."

"You coming to practice tomorrow?"

I arched a brow. "Must I spell this out for you? I. Quit. Q-U-I-T—means you stop doing something."

He folded his arms across his chest, staring at me critically. "If you stop coming to practice, I'm going to have to replace you – new try-outs and everything."

I shrugged as unaffectedly as I could, though the thought did shake me up – was he seriously going to replace me? I was bloody good, worth salvaging, in my opinion! "Fine."

He continued staring for a moment, as if weighing something in his head, before lifting his arms up in resignation. "Fine."

With that, he swiveled about and waltzed out of the room, grabbing the broom leaning against the wall on his way out and mounting it in order to descend the gender-specific staircase. I stared after his retreating form for a moment, wondering whether he would really go as far as holding try-outs when a pesky snicker interrupted my thoughts.

My gaze snapped over to Alicia, who was smirking wickedly and fingering a blonde curl. "So… have fun today?"

My face flattened into a scowl as the day's events flew before my eyes, ranging from my disastrous conversation with Lee to the rather awkward Wood encounter. "No."

Alicia merely raised a brow, leaning against her bedpost and eyeing me suggestively. "Had me fooled."

Author's Note: 'Ello – chapter two, woot! Reviews are love, and love is great. Many splendored and whatnot. Favorite quotes, as always, would be wildly appreciated!