James and Livvy walked together through the Hogwarts castle corridors, James hurried, walking with his usual long strides, while Livvy, as usual, rushed after him in smaller steps. "If I miss lunch because of you, I swear in Merlin's name I'll kill you, Liv," he declared. "I'm starving."
"I can't believe you're blaming me," Livvy shook her head. "You're the one who couldn't catch the Snitch, and wouldn't agree to leave even if I paid you."
"It's your fault! you started this stupid challenge," James grumbled.
"Just because you're a loser and couldn't win, doesn't mean the challenge is stupid," Livvy taunted him. James gave her an irritable punch on the shoulder, but it was clear from the slackness of this gesture that he was consciously gentle, deliberately not causing any real harm, even though his muscular and flexible arms proved that he could if he wanted to. Only Livvy could ridicule him like that without getting beaten up.
Although he was a wizard and had no rel reason to use his hands as a weapon, James always preferred that method. The year had only started a month ago, and he had already managed to get detention twice for that exact offense — once for breaking the nose of a Ravenclaw student who tried to steal the quidditch pitch while it was reserved for a Gryffindor team practice, and the other when a Slytherin student told him he was "a shame to his own family name" after one of their classes.
Livvy was more sophisticated than him. Although she also knew how to fight, she didn't rely on physical strength as much as James. She was better at casting sneaky, mean spells under her cloak, in such a manner that her victim didn't even understand who had struck them.
Their combination of the two of them together could only mean one thing - big troubles. They had no respect for any school rules and enjoyed wandering the castle for hours, mostly to places that were off limits. And, of course, The fact that they were both excellent Quidditch players on the Gryffindor team — James as a Seeker and Livvy as a Beater— definitely helped to increase their fame. Everybody knew them as the Gryffindor house's most dangerous troublemakers.
By the start of their seventh and last year at Hogwarts, which started a month ago, James had become the captain of the Gryffindor's Quidditch team, and it was clear that with his leadership, it was going to be the most fierce and competitive season of Quidditch.
"Great, there's sausages today," James groaned, quickly filling his plate. His wavy black hair was glistening with sweat and he smelled like a dirty pig, but that didn't stop a group of Hufflepuff girls at the table next to them from looking at him with longing looks. Livvy had noticed the stares, of course, but acted as if she hadn't. She knew James was considered a Desirable guy, but she preferred not to acknowledge that. But even though she was obviously trying to ignore James' reputation amongst the girls at Hogwarts, Every couple of days, another girl would come up to her and ask Livvy to introduce her to James or simply try to subtly find out if James and Livvy are dating.
Everyone thought something was going on between them, but the simple truth was that they were just really good friends. In terms of romance, there was a clear boundary between them, one which Livvy was very happy about. She was used to being friends with guys during most of her life, and had learned the hard way that most of those friendships fall apart when even the smallest hint of romantic or sexual attraction starts to show. She was glad that with James, there was not even the smallest threat of that happening.
"Chew with your mouth closed, Pig," she not-so-gently tapped his back, and he coughed as the sausage was prematurely shoved down his throat.
"Bitch." He replied affectionately the minute he could. They smiled at each other, and Livvy started eating as well.
"If I'll find out that the two of you practiced without me, I'll take it to heart," Eleanor said, approaching them from the far end of the table and sitting facing them, flipping her long dreadlocks over her shoulder. "Although maybe I should've gotten used to it by now."
Livvy smiled. Eleanor was another seventh-year student, and the other Beater on the Gryffindor team, and they were good friends, both because of their teamwork on the Quidditch field, and also because Eleanor was a nice and reasonable person, one of the few other girls in Gryffindor that Livvy got along with.
"It's all her fault," James pointed an accusing finger at Livvy. "She made up some stupid challenge—"
"It's not stupid, you're just a loser," Livvy emphasized again. Then she turned to Eleanor and explained, "We tried this challenge where you try to catch the Snitch above the cloud line—"
"That's a really stupid challenge ," Eleanor shook her head. "It's one of the dangerous exercises, Livvy. James could've died."
"I don't care about that," James was quick to clarify. "What I care about is that it's just impossible —"
Livvy laughed. "It's not impossible, it's just hard. But it's good practice for finding the Snitch in difficult conditions."
"You're lucky you're alive," Eleanor sighed towards James. "But it's not new that the two of you together have much more luck than brains. Maybe you'll tone it down this year?"
"Oh, Ellie," Livvy smiled. "It's touching to know that you care."
Eleanor snorted. "don't get too emotional," she said dryly. "I just want to finally win the Quidditch cup this year, and we won't be as lucky doing it without you two morons."
For a moment, they all laughed, but then suddenly Eleanor's face hardened slightly as she looked at someone behind them. James and Livvy, in perfect sync, turned to see Rosalind Alpin standing in front of them with an arched eyebrow and a hand on her hip, her red hair styled in an elaborate braid.
"So, I understand that you two practiced at the Quidditch pitch instead of attending your classes this morning."
James and Livvy exchanged grim looks. Rosalind had been the head of Slytherin House since last year, and that role secured her the pleasure of trying to get James and Livvy in trouble in any way she could. Of course, it was an easy task —mostly James and Livvy got themselves in trouble without needing any external help. But the natural animosity between Rosalind and most Gryffindor students— as well as the particular grudge she held against Livvy — made Rosalind especially eager to catch them in the act.
"It's really none of your business," Livvy said, turning her back on Rosalind.
"Rosalind!" said James with fake warmth. "Let's not start the year by throwing empty accusations at each other, I wouldn't want to sully our relationship like that."
Livvy rolled her eyes. She always hated the Insincere way in which James spoke to Rosalind.
"It's not an empty accusation, Thompson," Rosalind said with a condescending tone. "I heard you talking about it."
"Oh, that was just a figment of my imagination," James said, smiling wickedly. "You know me. Half of what I say is bullshit."
Of course, he was quoting her. These exact words were what Rosalind had said about him just the other day in front of the entire Potion class, after James tried to bluff an answer to Professor Gilbert's question in a desperate attempt to cover up the fact that he hadn't done his homework. Rosalind was an excellent Potions student, and the fact that it was a class that Gryffindor and Slytherin students took together, only encouraged her further to arrogantly demonstrate her superior knowledge at this subject.
"You really are an excellent story-teller," Rosalind said with a smirk. "But one doesn't have to be a genius to know that when it comes to bragging about skipping classes, you tend to be very honest."
James sighed. "Oh, Rosie, Rosie. I really believe we could've been really good friends."
Livvy rolled her eyes toward Eleanor, who shrugged in response. Livvy mostly talked to Rosalind with a firm and dismissive tone. James, however, talked to Rosalind with this friendly and flirty voice, and it annoyed Livvy. She knew that James hated Rosalind just as much as she did, so why was he making an effort to be fake-nice towards her? Of course, she knew it was James's way of getting under Rosalind's skin and nothing else, and she assumed it was because Rosalind was, well, a girl—with guys, James's had a much more direct way to address conflicts.
Rosalind laughed out loud. "It's cute that you even think that's an option," she said with a smile. "Anyway, I suppose now I should do my duty as a prefect and deduct points from your house—"
"No need for that," she was cut off abruptly. Livvy flinched at the familiar voice, feeling James's body stiffen beside her. She quickly turned around and exchanged glances with James when she saw Owen approaching Rosalind, his prefect badge shiny as always, and his blond hair perfectly groomed.
Owen was a seventh-year Gryffindor and the headboy of Gryffindor House since last year. It was no secret that he hated James and Livvy because they were the main reason he had to deduct points from Gryffindor, and because he was uptight and pedantic (James mostly referred to him as "the Nazi"). The annoying thing was that he pretended to be objective and cold towards them, as if he had no special feelings for Livvy and James at all. Livvy often wondered how Owen ended up in Gryffindor. It was just illogical—she had never seen him show any kind of bravery. He was as slippery, calculated and rigid as the next slytherin.
Maybe that's why Owen and Rosalind got along so well with each other. ï'll take it from here," said Owen to Rosalind in an authoritarian tone.
"With pleasure, Wilson," Rosalind said with her usual sweet and fake smile. "But I advice you to be more present at your house's table during meals. If I hadn't happened to pass by, these two would've gone under your radar again."
She walked away confidently, and Livvy caught James's gaze lingering on her, at least until Owen asked coldly, "What was she talking about?"
"Nothing," Livvy was fast to say. "Don't tell me you believe everything that Slytherin bitch says."
Owen gave her a sharp stare. "I should take points off Gryffindor just for you calling her that.
Livvy rolled her eyes. "Wilson, even you have to admit that she's a—"
"One. More. Word." Owen hissed quietly.
Eleanor quickly intervened. "Leave them alone, Owen," she said in an appeasing tone. "Rosalindwas just trying to screw them up, you know her. Besides," she said with a slight smile in her voice, "You already know these two will give you plenty of opportunities to take points off of Gryffindor in the future. no need to rush."
"These future opportunities are exactly what worries me," Owen said coldly, but than left it at that, took a step back, and walked away without saying goodbye.
James turned to Eleanor. "Thanks for the help."
"Anytime. He's not such a terrible guy, you know," Eleanor said. "He just wants us to win the House Cup this year."
"It's all good," Livvy said. "Our priorities are just different. The Quidditch Cup is more important."
"And besides, he really is such a Nazi," James muttered, taking a sip from his drink absentmindedly. Livvy looked at him in confusion. She didn't remember him pouring himself a drink since they sat down.
James misinterpreted her stare and asked, "Want a sip?"
"What's that?" she asked, trying to shake off the feeling of strange suspicion.
"Don't know, some kind of juice," James continued drinking without care, so she quickly dismissed the feeling, took the cup he offered her, and took a small sip, then a larger one. She then returned the cup to James.
James finished the drink with a few long sips and went back to eating with his usual gluttonous manner. Even though he was eating like a pig, Livvy noticed that the Hufflepuff girls at the table across from them continued to stare at him with longing looks.
Only when they went to Transfiguration class did James start acting weird. He seemed a bit flushed and kept glancing around as they entered the class.
"Everything's okay?" Livvy asked him, concerned.
"Uh, yeah," he quickly said, blushing even more. "I just... I feel a bit off."
"It's because you eat too fast," she scolded him. "You barely chew your food."
"Yeah, probably," he smiled weakly, as they sat down. But throughout the lesson, James's discomfort became more and more apparent. He squirmed, fidgeted, and blushed more and more.
"What's wrong with you?" she finally whispered when started breathing heavily.
It seemed to be the last straw for James, who jumped up from his seat. "Could I please be excused, Professor Suthermand? I Feel sick." he asked urgently. She looked at him in surprise, not used to hearing the tone of genuine vulnerability from him.
"you're excused," she said with a hint of suspicion, and James rushed to leave the classroom.
Livvy stood up as well. "I should accompany him—"
"you absolutely should not, Miss Roberts." Professor Suthermand reprimanded. "Sit down immediately."
some students giggled at the response. Everyone understood that when James left the classroom alone, it might be because he was actually sick, but if James and Livvy left together, it could mean nothing but trouble.
Livvy remained in her seat, slightly flushed and worried, with one burning question on her mind - what was wrong with her best friend?