a/n: I know it seems rather pointless to keep updating despite the fact that I have NO reviews. I doubt anyone has actually read this story.

But it's extremely enjoyable to write, so I'm going to keep updating anyways. If you're reading this, I love you! Please try and leave a review. I know it's a nuisance but I'd really appreciate it.

and without further ado, here's chapter three!

James Potter sits next to me during the Sorting Ceremony.

And it's not like there aren't any seats left, either. Isabelle is on my left, and as I start to wave Daisy over, Potter casually plops down in the seat to my right and gives me a smirk.

"Is this seat taken?" he asks as McGonagall makes her standard welcome speech. He's still got that infernal smirk plastered on his face, and I'm highly tempted to find a cliff and push him off of it.

I shrug. "Well, it certainly is now, isn't it?"

Potter's smirk falters. He hates it when he can't illicit a reaction from me. He's opening his mouth, probably to say something idiotic, when the first name is called to be sorted.

"Adams, Gertie!"

I watch as tiny little thing with pigtails practically climbs onto the stool and puts the Sorting Hat on her head.

There's a long pause, and Isabelle murmurs, "She's a Hufflepuff for sure."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Isabelle turns to me, wide-eyed, as our table erupts with cheers. Gertie is beaming with pride, and I can't help but smile as she finds a seat at our table.

Potter gives me an irritating grin. "Remember how long it took for you to be Sorted?"

I glare at him. I don't like to be reminded of the time when, at my Sorting Ceremony, the Sorting Hat took a solid two minutes to decide I belonged in Gryffindor.

"Remember all those times you were showing off on your broom and you fell?" I retort in an angry whisper.

Potter scoffs. "Oh, like that hasn't happened to you."

"Back when I was a Third Year, yes. It did happen." I hiss, giving him the dirtiest look possible. "But not last year, unlike a certain someone I know."

Potter's face almost matches the crimson of his Gryffindor tie. "I'll have you know–"

"Woah there, you two." Fred Weasley, who is sitting across from James, whispers. He's grinning from ear to ear. "You might want to tone down on the sexual tension. There are First Years at the table."

"Shut up, Fred." Potter and I hiss at the same time, the intensity of our glares directed at Fred now.

He holds up his hands in a 'don't shoot' kind of gesture. "Calm yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. I was just kidding."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Argument momentarily forgotten, I watch in fascination as the first new Slytherin of the year swaggers over to the cheering Slytherin table. She's tall for eleven, and has white-blonde hair and pale skin. "Is she a Malfoy?" I ask, wrinkling my nose.

Isabelle laughs. "No, that's Daphne's sister Hortensia."

"Even worse than a Malfoy - a mini Daphne." I say in horror.

"And Hortensia?" Roxanne, who is sitting across from me, adds. "What a name."

"Shhh." Fred says. "This bloke looks like a Gryffindor."

And sure enough, 'Grier, Stephen' becomes the second Gryffindor of the night.

After all the newcomers are Sorted, we all dig into the amazing food the House Elves have prepared. As I eat, I chat happily with Roxanne, Isabelle, Rose Weasley, and even Fred, but I pointedly ignore Potter.

Unfortunately, ignoring someone is slightly difficult when they're seated right next to you. Especially when the's telling Fred about being Quidditch captain.

"Mum and Dad were super excited when we found out." he's saying, running a hand through his messy hair. "Mum made jam tarts three times in one week. It was awesome."

Fred groans. "Sweet Merlin. Your mum makes the best jam tarts ever."

Roxanne and Rose are also gushing over Potter's mum's tarts when a Seventh Year Hufflepuff, Susannah Brown, sidles up to the table.

"I just wanted to congatulate you on being Gryffindor Quidditch captain, James." she purrs, flashing a beautiful smile as she tosses her long brown hair. "You deserve it."

Potter smiles back. "Thanks, Susannah."

As the two of them chat, I violently stab a piece of mutton with my fork. Isabelle puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She's just a slag hoping that James will like her because she complimented him. Don't listen to her." she whispers in my ear. I shrug a shoulder, still staring at my plate.

After Susannah leaves, Fred raises an eyebrow at Potter. "So how long have you two been shagging, huh?"

"We haven't. Yet." Potter says, smirking.

For some reason, this makes me stab my meat even harder.

Rose looks at me with wide eyes. "Merlin, Eloise – what did your mutton ever do to you?"

xXxXx

"So, you were acting a bit off at dinner." Isabelle says casually as we enter the Gryffindor common room after dinner.

"What do you mean?" I ask, giving my best friend a look.

Isabelle sinks down onto a couch and sighs. "First of all, you and James Potter looked like you were either going to start fighting or start snogging. I can't decide."

"Gross!" I exclaim, wrinkling my nose. "Why would you ever say that?"

Isabelle just shrugs. "Fred was right. There was a lot of sexual tension going on between the two of you." She holds up her hand when I try to protest. "But that's not my point. You were also acting really weird when Susannah was talking to James – you seemed…"

"What?" I ask, folding my arms. "I seemed what?"

"Jealous." Isabelle says, looking me in the eyes.

"Well, yeah." I say. "Susannah was rubbing Potter's captaincy in my face. Of course I was jealous."

Isabelle sighs, frustrated. "No, no. That's not what I meant. I meant you seemed jealous when James was suggesting that he and Susannah are gonna – you know."

I stare at Isabelle, confused. "What are you trying to say?"

She grins. "You're jealous of Susannah because you fancy James Potter."

Okay, what? Sure, Potter may be incredibly fit and amazing at Quidditch, but he's utterly obnoxious.

"You're delusional." I scoff. "First of all, I can't stand him. Second of all, if the two of them were shagging in the middle of the common room, I wouldn't care."

Isabelle sighs. "If you say so."

"Oi! Wood!"

I turn around to see Fred Weasley entering the common room. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi, Fred." I say cautiously.

"D'you fancy James?" Fred asks. Get right to the point, why don't you?

"Why does everyone think that?" I groan, sitting down next to Isabelle.

"Not everyone does." Isabelle says, patting me on the shoulder. "Only the smart people."

"I don't fancy James. At all!" I protest. "Seriously. I couldn't care less about him."

Fred and Isabelle look disappointed.
"You sure?" Fred asks.

"Yes." I say, standing up. "Good night."

I storm up the steps to the Seventh Year dormitory. Okay, I can understand Fred being weird about me and James – he's Fred Weasley, after all – but why Isabelle? She's my best friend, and she should know me better.

I enter the dormitory to see Daisy, Roxanne, and Amelia sitting on the floor, talking. Their conversation stops abruptly when they see me. "Oh – hi, Eloise!" Daisy squeaks nervously.

"Um… what's going on?" I ask, folding my arms.

"Oh, look at the time." Amelia says, looking at the clock on the wall. "I have to do my rounds, since I'm Head Girl and all. Bye!"

And with that, she bolts from the room.

I look back and forth between Daisy and Roxanne. "I'm serious." I say slowly. "What's. Going. On?"

Roxanne sighs. "We were just talking about how… um… we think you fancy James."

I flop onto my bed, bury my face in my pillow, and scream.

"I take it that means you don't?" Daisy says timidly, scratching the back of her head.

"No! I don't!" I say, exasperated. "First Isabelle, then Fred, now you three? Why does everyone think I like James Potter? He's bloody James Potter!"

Roxanne shrugs. "Well, on the train, when you entered the compartment, you couldn't keep your eyes off of him."

"I was staring at his captain's badge.!" I cry. "I'm jealous that he's Quidditch captain! That's why I've been picking those fights with him – I'm mad that he's captain and I'm not! Okay? Everyone happy?"

Roxanne and Daisy have stricken looks on their faces, but they're not looking at me. They're looking at the doorway.

"Is this a bad time?" a male voice says, and I gasp.

No. This cannot be happening.

I turn to see James Potter in the doorway, a strange look on his face. "I just wanted to tell you we have Quidditch practice first thing tomorrow morning, Eloise." he says, looking at the ground.

I stare at him with wide eyes. "Oh. Um… thanks."

James nods slowly and makes eye contact with me. "No problem. 'Night, everyone."

"Goodnight, James." Roxanne and Daisy say, but I stay silent. With one final look at me, James leaves.

"Did that actually just happen?" I whisper, mortified.

Roxanne nods. "Uh, yes. Yes it did."

"I think I'm going to kill myself now." I say, flopping back on my bed and putting my head in my hands.

Isabelle walks in the room. "I just saw James Potter leave here with a weird look on his face. What did I miss?"

Daisy gestures to me, but I grab the bed curtains and draw them closed. "I don't want to talk to you right now." I say, voice muffled by my pillow.

"She's contemplating suicide." Roxanne says, as if that will clear everything right up.

"What?" Isabelle shrieks.

"She's not being serious, Isa." Daisy says soothingly. "Eloise is just upset that everyone thinks she fancies James."

"Ohhhhhh." Isabelle says knowingly. "That's why James looked so upset?"

"Probably." Roxanne agrees, and I fling open the curtains and poke my head out. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, and my three friends exchange knowing smiles.

"Nothing." they chorus.

I throw pillows at all of them, holler "I don't want to talk about it, so bugger off!", close my curtains abruptly, and then I feel much better.

Oh, it's good to be back.