Chapter 36 – Foolish One
Foolish one
The day is gonna come for your confessions of love
When all is said and done
He just wasn't the one
Two days after their heated argument in the common room, Sam and Janey were set to serve their detention—something neither of them, unsurprisingly, were particularly looking forward to. Janey had experienced her fair share throughout the years, mostly because of her generally carefree attitude towards school and rules in general—and more than a few violations of the uniform protocols.
Sam had endured significantly fewer, his most prominent (and perhaps the one he was most proud of) being the one he, James, and Scorpius had been forced to serve together after they had engaged in a huge physical fight in Fourth Year. But at least then, Sam had known he'd deserved it. He had taken great joy in slamming his fist into Scorpius Malfoy's smug face at the time, and he supposed he should regret it more than he did, but the Slytherin had proven to be an arsehole even after the two had seemed to somewhat form a truce immediately following the altercation.
But this was unjust. Why should Sam have to endure a detention for Janey's discrepancy rather than his own? And, worst of all, he had to endure it in her company. Bobbin seemed to be punishing Sam, not just with the singular detention, but surely for the whole reason he had appointed him and Janey as co-Prefects in the first place. What else made sense? Why on earth would she have so readily appointed the irritating and uncaring blonde girl to such a prestigious position if it weren't a punishment to Sam who very much felt like he did deserve the role.
Sam could only hope it was a detention in which he would have to interact with Janey very little. He'd happily just sit in an empty classroom and write lines for an hour, but Hogwarts' detentions were normally more creative than that.
The two had not spoken since they had both stormed from the common room, and any time they had found themselves in the vague vicinity of the other, they had been silently seething, all the anger they had previously felt building up like a fire within once more.
Sam did not want to speak to her, he did not even want to have to look at her, certain that if he did he would start shouting again. It was almost comical how much one person was capable of riling him, but he was sick of Janey. Sick of her attitude and her countless put-downs. She was a horrible person, and why people like Rose and James wanted to be her friend was beyond him.
To Sam's surprise, it was Professor Longbottom who met him and Janey when the day for their detention rolled around. For some reason, this only made him feel even more anger towards the Headmistress. She had been the one to insist he and Janey serve detention together after all.
They ignored each other the whole walk to the Trophy Room, but Sam could feel the hatred emanating from Janey, just as he was certain she must feel it radiating from him too.
Sam was somewhat relieved that it was the Trophy Room where he and Janey would be spending their detention rather than the Forbidden Forest, but he had no doubts about what it would entail.
Sure enough, Professor Longbottom instructed them both to polish every last one of the trophies—without the use of magic—until they were positively gleaming. God, it was going to be boring. Sam could only revel in the fact that this was surely going to ruin Janey's evening. Perhaps she'd had to cancel plans with her pretty boy Hufflepuff to be there, and that thought greatly pleased him.
He had to bite his tongue as he noticed her rolling her eyes out of the corner of his own, longing to make a snide or otherwise gleeful remark, but he knew ignoring her was going to be the best way to approach the tedious task ahead of them.
Sam was out of luck though, because the instant Professor Longbottom had departed the room, Janey turned to him with her arms folded and a scowl upon her face. "If you think I'm going to ruin my nails by scrubbing at those filthy, old trophies then you've got another thing coming."
Sam immediately dropped into a scowl of his own. "Given that you're the reason we're even here in the first place, you should be doing most of the work," he bit back.
If she refused to help then they'd be there for double the length, and he absolutely would not be able to bear that. Why did she have to be so damn selfish? It was unbelievable.
Janey just scoffed. "This is maid's work."
"This is detention," Sam said incredulously.
"Yeah, well, you've got this—I believe in you," she said, offering him a sarcastic thumbs-up and settling herself atop a display unit, her short legs swinging below.
Sam just stared at her, completely gobsmacked. Surely, surely, she was joking. She had to be trying to wind him up—she couldn't be serious.
"What?" Janey demanded, clearly not appreciating him staring.
"You are the most selfish person I know," he snarled, unable to help himself. "You're seriously not going to do anything?"
"I don't see why I should," Janey said coolly, her arms still tightly folded.
Sam almost didn't have the energy to argue with her—what would be the point in just dragging it out? He wanted to escape the Trophy Room, and her, as fast as he possibly could.
So instead, he just shook his head in total disbelief before reaching for the nearest trophy.
They were all relatively shiny anyway, Sam observed with some relief, as he began rubbing at the metal with the rags and grease Professor Longbottom had left them. It shouldn't take more than an hour, he thought optimistically—two if Janey really wasn't going to help at all. But he wasn't going to argue with her—what was the point? She would piss him off regardless, and he was trying to act like he couldn't care less.
Janey did indeed seem to be observing him with some curious trepidation, like she couldn't quite believe he wasn't further chastising her for refusing to participate and was suspicious of the reasons why.
"Can you at least pass me that rag?" Sam eventually sighed, hating the feel of her eyes on him whilst he worked.
She did so with a wordless flourish, and Sam was surprised that she hadn't taken the opportunity to hurl it at him—not that it would have achieved much if she had.
"Thanks," he mumbled without thinking, and then regretted that he had. Janey hadn't actually done him any favours, and he shouldn't have to commend her for doing the bare minimum.
She watched him work in tight-lipped silence until, eventually, she released a great sigh and begrudgingly began wiping away at a metallic cup herself, though not without a look of disgust set upon her face.
"It could be worse," Sam pointed out, unsure why he was trying to placate her. It wasn't like she deserved his kindness. "We could be shovelling out the Hippogriff stables."
Sam thought he saw the shadow of a smile play on her lips and felt conflicted.
"Well, it smells just as bad in here," Janey scoffed.
Sam had to agree with that—there was an unnervingly musty smell in the air. He offered a small smile, but he said nothing.
"I don't even understand why we have this room," Janey went on. "Nobody comes in here—nobody cares about some randos from a hundred years ago who, I don't know, made the best Sleeping Draught in some dumb competition that doesn't exist anymore."
"I think it's important to remember our history," Sam said quietly, his hands lingering on a particularly tarnished shield. In the centre were several names of students from around thirty years ago—some indecipherable achievement in Transfiguration—but one name in particular had caught his eye.
Everheart.
Sam couldn't be sure why that name, in particular, spoke to him—more so than any of the others he had smeared polish over in the last twenty minutes. He couldn't think of a single person currently at the school with that name, but he supposed he must have heard it in passing before. British wizarding names tended to circulate, and with that award being somewhat recent in the grand scheme of things, he supposed it wasn't too hard to believe it could be an ancestor of someone currently attending the school.
Perhaps he had heard it in relation to the Potter family, or the Weasleys—they seemed to have roots everywhere. Or maybe he had read it in a textbook at some point.
Either way, Sam took a few extra minutes to restore the shield to a gleaming brightness, feeling that whoever the mysterious Everheart happened to be, they deserved it.
Janey was craning her neck to try and see which name had struck such interest within Sam. Feeling self-conscious, unsure why he felt such a sentimental attachment to that particular name, he hastily replaced it on the shelf and began rubbing away at the next one.
"I guess," Janey said in a bored voice, regarding Sam somewhat suspiciously. "But I wouldn't want to be remembered just by some musty old plaque. I'd want people to know my name."
Sam felt himself rolling his eyes. He didn't understand Janey's obsession with Muggle stardom—not when there were so many wondrous endeavours of the wizarding world to pursue.
"If only I had the number of a well-renowned producer…"
Sam couldn't help but smirk. He had long lorded this over Janey. He hadn't realised how big a deal it would be to her when he had unintentionally and completely casually let slip that his stepfather was old school friends with some supposed hotshot film producer, but Janey had greedily pursued the connection ever since he had.
And, of course, Sam had never relinquished it, knowing how powerful a bargaining chip it was to have in his arsenal. It felt good to know he had something she so desperately wanted and that he could withhold from her.
"I am spending my Sunday evening scrubbing old trophies because of you," Sam pointed out somewhat tauntingly.
Janey scowled. "Like you'd have anything better to be doing anyway."
"Oh, please, I'd much rather be with—" But Sam cut himself short. He didn't want to mention Isabella's name. Not to Janey.
But the blonde girl had stiffened anyway, like she knew what he'd been about to say.
"I shouldn't be doing this at all," Sam reminded her, feeling riled up even though she hadn't taken an easy swipe. "I don't see why I should have to suffer for your failings."
"Because we're a team," Janey said sweetly.
Sam glared at her. "So where were you," he snarled, "when I actually needed you."
He instantly blushed, immensely regretting his choice of words. He needed Janey as much as a fish needed a bicycle. He hadn't meant anything by it.
"I… forgot," Janey insisted, though her voice was small.
Sam was just grateful that she hadn't taunted him for his poor choice of words. She did seem to look genuinely guilty.
"Well," Sam said gruffly, unsure why the atmosphere in the room now felt somewhat charged, "don't forget again."
Janey didn't seem to react well to Sam's command. "I'll do what I like," she said in a dangerous voice. "And I'd choose Roman over you any day."
Roman. The name, for some reason, made Sam's blood boil. He had felt like he and Janey had been somewhat getting along—or at least enduring their detention together alright—but she seemed intent on making the atmosphere between them hostile.
"Well, then, we're just going to get another detention, aren't we," Sam snapped.
God, was she really that stupid? Didn't she realise that the more times she skipped Prefect meetings to see bloody Roman, the more detentions she would have to endure in Sam's company anyway?
"I really don't care," Janey insisted.
Sam felt his hand clench into a fist around the rag he had been furiously scrubbing with—with far more vigour than he had necessarily needed to. "No. You don't care about anyone or anything that isn't precious Janey Davington," he snapped.
"I care about the people who deserve my respect," Janey countered haughtily, her eyes narrowing at Sam in disgust. "My friends," she insisted. And then, almost shyly, "Roman."
The name once more sent a shock of inexplicable fury through Sam's body. "What's so special about this Roman guy anyway?" he dared to ask, scrubbing away at another trophy and refusing to look Janey in the eye. "Why risk serving countless detentions just to hang out with some Quidditch guy? From Hufflepuff, no less," he scoffed, unsure why the House of the Badger was garnering his wrath. He had nothing against the Hufflepuffs.
"Have you seen him?" Janey asked with wondrous laughter.
Sam felt his stomach drop. "No."
"Oh, he's gorgeous," Janey said in somewhat of a dreamy sigh. "He looks a bit like a younger Professor Roberts."
"Oh," Sam said in response, still refusing to look at her. He wasn't surprised—Janey had dated every popular, attractive guy in the school it seemed. Her infatuation for the supposedly dreamy Hufflepuff did nothing to quell his ever-increasing anger however. "Well," he grunted, "hang out with whoever you want—but do it on your own time," he fiercely instructed.
For a second, Sam thought she might respond scathingly once more. Janey did not respond well to being told what to do—as he had come to learn first-hand over the past five years. But, to his surprise, she didn't offer a sarcastic retort in response. Instead, she smirked.
"We'll see," she said slyly, delicately polishing a small trophy and seemingly inspecting her own reflection in it.
It was good enough for Sam.
A weirdly calming state of catharsis seemed to have fallen in the Trophy Room, a silent truce stretching between the two Gryffindor Prefects. The next hour passed in silence, the two of them working together in sync. Both were surprised when Professor Longbottom returned to grant them their freedom—it really hadn't seemed all that long in the end.
As the two slipped out of the room, Sam was certain he caught a sort of knowing pride in his teacher's expression, but he couldn't be sure it wasn't a trick of the light. He had been staring at gleaming reflective surfaces for the past hour and a half after all.
Sam was about to make some vague, polite comment to Janey in farewell, even though they'd no doubt be returning to the Gryffindor Tower together, but she had already slipped off, determinedly striding off in the opposite direction to that which they needed to go.
Sam watched her go, feeling oddly hollow and a little annoyed. It had felt like, in that last hour, something unspoken had brought them together, united them, but now she couldn't even say goodbye? She didn't even look back, and Sam guessed, even though curfew was drawing incredibly close, she was off to see her precious Professor Roberts-wannabe.
He was in half a mind to see if he could track down Isabella, but she likely wouldn't appreciate it so late in the evening. So, feeling downcast, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why, Sam returned to the Tower alone. Though not without having first watched Janey walk the entire length of the corridor before she disappeared from view, just in case she happened to turn back.
Roman Valentine was quite possibly the hottest guy Janey had ever dated.
Although, 'dating' didn't quite seem to be the right term for their particular situationship—something that riled Janey to no end. It wasn't like she wanted to lock him down and have him call her his girlfriend or anything, but there seemed to be a distinct lack of physical romance in whatever the hell was going on, and not a lot of communication to suggest why that was. Nor what, exactly, they were to each other.
Janey considered them exclusive—from her point of view anyway. She wasn't pursuing anything with anybody else. She never liked to have more than one guy on the go at any time—that wasn't her style. If she ever felt a stronger attraction to someone new than the person she was currently seeing—whatever stage they might have happened to be in—then she respectfully dropped them in order to pursue the new object of her affections. And so far, she had shut down anybody showing even remote interest in her in order to give her all to Roman. And she found it unlikely that anybody could overthrow that.
But there was a frustrating reluctance on the older boy's part to take the next step in their romantic journey together.
It had now been almost a month of 'hanging out', and still, Roman had not taken any steps to kiss Janey, or even show that it was something that he actively wanted and was considering doing. He was flirty, sure, there could be no doubt that he viewed Janey as more than just a new friend, but she was baffled as to why he hadn't yet laid it on her. He always seemed so hesitantly shy. It was very new for Janey.
And it wasn't like she had any qualms about being the one to kiss him first. She had initiated many a first-time snog with her former flings. They often found her boldness even more attractive, and she loved exerting that control. But there was something different about Roman. Something about his coy reluctance that made her long for him to be the one to kiss her. Just to know, perhaps, that his feelings were genuine.
Janey supposed it all went back to Deneb. He had been the last guy she'd dated, after all, and he had turned out to be nothing but a user. She had wanted to open her heart up a bit more than she ever had done before, and she had been burned by it.
But Janey would not be making that mistake again. This time, she needed to know it was genuine. She would not sacrifice the upper hand for any guy ever again.
No, Roman had to be the one to kiss her first.
And Janey was certain that tonight was the night.
It was a Friday, and he had arranged with her earlier in the day to meet up in their usual spot by the lake that evening. Janey had vowed to herself that, though she would not be the one to cave, she would make it blindingly obvious that she wanted him to kiss her—she knew all the tricks off by heart. And if he still didn't take the bait, then maybe that was a sign that Janey needed to move on to something else. She couldn't wait around forever, of course.
But God, it would be a huge loss to miss out on a snog with a guy as hot as Roman. She certainly wouldn't be going without a fight.
Janey had an uncharacteristic flutter in her stomach as she headed out to the grounds that evening. She had brushed her teeth twice and worn her most enticing perfume. If Roman still had the power to resist her then there could be no doubt that he wasn't the one for her.
"Hi," he greeted once Janey had approached.
His charming smile only emphasised the two beautiful dimples that rested within his cheeks, his golden eyes shining even brighter beneath the moonlight. It was a perfectly clear night, the stars on full display. The atmosphere could not have been more romantically-charged if they'd tried.
"Hi," Janey said back, hoping it wasn't too dark on that September evening to mask the calculated fluttering of her eyelashes. She rarely dated guys with prettier eyes than her own baby blues, but Roman was certainly giving her a run for her money.
It seemed to work, as Roman looked breathless as the sight of her—but maybe Janey was just being optimistic, she thought humbly.
"How was your day?"
Janey beamed. Not just for the way his deep, soothing voice, sweet and smooth as honey, made her feel, but for the fact that he indulged in polite enquiries about her day. Most guys just looked her up and down, made a crass comment, and shoved their tongue down her throat.
And though Janey wouldn't at all mind if Roman opted for this approach, she appreciated the respectful politeness of his question. And what's more, it seemed as though he was actually genuinely interested.
"It was okay," Janey said, tucking a strand of hair behind her own ear. "Double Transfiguration, which was a total snooze-fest though."
Roman laughed politely.
"But," Janey said meaningfully, looking straight into his eyes, "it is infinitely better now."
Even under the inky blanket of night, Janey could see the blush in his cheeks. "Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked in a low voice, extending a hand.
Janey didn't say anything. She just continued to stare into his eyes as meanignfully as possible, offered a small smile, and gave an affirmative nod. As she took his hand, it was like a spark of electricity had shot through the both of them. Janey liked the way it felt, his hand smooth and strong in her own.
Please let it be tonight, she begged the universe as they began to stroll the border of the glistening moonlit lake.
Twenty minutes later, Janey's wish remained to be granted. Was she being punished?—she began to wonder. Why had the universe given her this spectacular man—this perfectly kind, charming, deeply attractive man, who was both smart and sweet, respectful and engaging—and yet who, for some unexplained reason, would not take the plunge and kiss her?
Conversation had flown so effortlessly, Janey had been nothing but delightful and deeply flirtatious, and they hadn't once dropped hands as they circled the grounds. What was he waiting for?
"Do you want to, err, sit down?" Roman suggested, for the first time that evening losing some of his natural charisma. He looked, if Janey wasn't mistaken, a little nervous.
Oh?
Janey's heart skipped a beat. "Sure," she said.
And the two of them settled onto a nearby rock, the edge of the lake gently lapping the shore near their feet. Janey swung her legs happily, and then immediately stopped. She didn't want to appear like a child. She wanted to appear like a woman. A woman who wanted, and deserved, a right good snog.
She looked very pointedly at Roman's beautiful cupid-bow lips before slowly dragging her eyes back up to his face. He appeared to gulp.
Good.
They had dropped hands now, but they were seated so close together that their knees were touching. It really wouldn't take that much effort to close the gap between their mouths. They stared at each other for a while, the silence stretching between them charged with unspoken emotion. If he didn't kiss her soon then Janey was going to crack, despite her vow. She hadn't kissed anyone since Deneb—almost an entire year ago now—and she was sincerely wondering whether there were any side effects from withholding for so long.
"What are you thinking about?" Janey asked softly, her voice low, seductive.
"Your eyes," Roman blurted out. "They're, err, very blue."
Janey smirked. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
When he offered nothing else, she dared to go further. "Do I make you nervous?"
Roman smiled. "A little," he admitted. "But in a good way."
Janey liked that a lot. But when Roman still made no effort to close the gap, she decided on a new tactic. "Surely you're used to female attention—you must have girls throwing themselves at you all the time."
Roman blushed, and Janey smiled even deeper.
"I don't know about that," he mumbled bashfully. "I, err, I was with my ex for a long time."
Janey almost frowned, but she stopped herself at the last minute. She had heard about the ex briefly a few times, and with every new occurrence, it started to make her feel a little less assured. Janey did not like to compete with other women. She did not want to be just a rebound.
"We were friends before we dated," Roman went on to explain. "So I never really had to do the whole 'flirting' thing."
"Yeah?" Janey asked.
"Yeah. We already knew each other so well—we just sort of realised, one day, that we should be together."
Janey pondered the concept. She had never dated a friend before—no one in her inner circle. Why would she? She couldn't comprehend what it would be like to suddenly wake up one day and realise that someone you'd already known for years could be your perfect match. She thought of abruptly deciding one day that she wanted to be with someone like James romantically and unintentionally wrinkled her nose.
Why would you want to date someone you already had a relationship with? It was normally when she got to know people more deeply that she stopped liking them.
"So what changed?" she dared to ask, wondering if the only reason he was reluctant to pursue things further with Janey was because he was still into his ex or something.
Roman furrowed his brow in stoic reminiscence. "I think we just, ah, drifted apart. She said she felt a bit confined because we'd been together for so long, and she wanted to experience being single." He looked saddened at the thought, and Janey's heart went out to him. His ex had clearly meant a lot to him—maybe he still felt like he hadn't healed enough from the breakup.
"That sucks," Janey said with genuine sympathy. That was a good line though, she noted, storing it away for future use—"I have to break up with you because I want to explore being single."
"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "But then she started dating my roommate pretty shortly after…"
"Oh my God, what a bitch," Janey gasped without thought.
Roman chuckled at her outburst, and Janey relaxed.
"No offence," she added for good measure. "But God, that's snakey as hell."
Roman looked amused by her comments, but Janey could also tell there was a pain in his eyes. Perhaps it was all still too fresh, she thought sadly. Although, she knew what would certainly make him feel better…
"I guess I'm just a bit more wary," he confessed. "I'm always questioning people's intentions."
"Well, you can trust me," Janey assured him, even reaching out a hand to place atop his knee. She stared into his eyes with as much meaning as she could possibly muster, hoping he finally got the message.
So he had been stung by love before? Hadn't they all? And maybe that's why he was warily taking things so slowly with Janey. But maybe, she thought eagerly, it would be all the better for having made her wait for it.
Roman hit her with another of his dimple-filled charming smiles, and her insides seemed to writhe with giddy anticipation.
"You can trust me," Janey said again, her voice soft and low.
Roman leaned in ever so slightly, and if Janey wasn't mistaken, his eyes seemed to flicker towards her lips before settling on her eyes once more. "I know," he said just as softly. He moved a stray strand of hair away from her face but left his hand in place, gently cradling her cheek in his palm.
Janey felt every muscle in her body tense with excitement as he finally, finally leaned in, bracing herself for the moment his beautiful lips pressed against her own.
But the impact never came.
Janey had closed her eyes in anticipation, but when the kiss had failed to occur, she opened them cautiously, a little angry. What was the hold up now?
Roman's hand was frozen in place on the side of Janey's face, but his eyes were fixed on something over her shoulder, squinting in the darkness at something in the distance. "What the—?"
Janey whipped her head around in fury, causing Roman to drop his hand in the process, enraged by whatever had interrupted what she was sure would have been one of the best first kisses she'd ever had.
She noticed what had drawn Roman's attention away and scowled in confusion. A figure was making its way towards the couple, striding across the grounds from the castle with a fierce determination. What was the big deal? If it was a teacher, they were hardly doing anything wrong, and it was nowhere near curfew.
But as the figure drew closer, Janey could see that it wasn't a teacher. She could see exactly who it was, and the already heated rage within her grew tenfold.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Sam roared as he finally came within ten feet of the couple.
"What is your problem?" Janey shrieked back at him, not even caring about how undignified she must look to Roman.
"You promised," Sam said furiously. "You promised you would be there this time—and instead, you're cavorting by the lake with—" He stopped to glare at Roman, eyeing the still-seated boy up and down with great distaste.
Shit.
Janey's heart skipped a beat, that time out of guilt rather than eager anticipation. Was it really a Friday? Had she forgotten about their Prefect meeting again? She hadn't meant to. She really hadn't meant to, but she supposed in her eagerness to finally kiss Roman, it had completely evaded her mind. Even still, Sam had no right to speak to her that way—storming across the grounds and ruining her beautiful moment with Roman!
The Hufflepuff boy rose to his feet, looking concerned, and Janey took great delight in the way he peered down at Sam. "Janey, what's going on?" he asked, looking at her with a questioning sort of hurt in his otherwise beautiful eyes.
"Janey has plans tonight," Sam snapped, narrowing his eyes at the unknown member of their party.
The hurt only shone deeper in Roman's irises. "I thought you said you were single?"
Janey and Sam looked at each other in horror before they both dropped their expressions into matching scowls.
"I am!" Janey assured Roman, deeply disgusted by the implication. Why did Sam have to ruin everything? "Sam is not my boyfriend!" she insisted, reviled by the thought. "He's just my idiot co-Prefect."
As she'd expected, Sam did not take well to being talked down to in front of Roman. "I am not getting another detention because you're swanning around with this guy," he snarled, glaring at Janey
"Don't speak about him like that!" Janey replied shrilly, absolutely mortified that he was bringing Roman into it. Who the hell did he think he was? Was he trying to start a fight or something?
But Roman—sweet, passive Hufflepuff that he was—did not bite back like Janey would have expected from someone like James, or even Sam himself. Instead, he just looked sort of concerned and embarrassed to have been dragged into an argument he was not involved in.
Sam ignored Janey's comment. "You have five minutes to get to the meeting room or I will drag you there."
"Don't threaten me!" Janey shrieked, wondering whether, if Sam laid a finger on her, Roman would leap to her defence and beat him up. God, she'd love to see someone smack the shit out of Sam. She was this close to doing it herself.
"Five minutes," Sam repeated in a low growl.
Janey folded her arms. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she said coolly. "I have plans with Roman."
Sam stared at her in disbelief. "You do not have plans with Roman," he countered, pronouncing the name like it was some kind of slur. "You have plans with me!"
Janey had opened her mouth to scream at Sam in defiance once more, but the Hufflepuff beat her to it.
"Janey," he said in a calm but embarrassed voice. "You should go to your meeting, it's fine."
Janey turned to Roman, unintentionally pouting. "But we—"
"It's fine," he assured her. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
Janey knew he probably meant with Bobbin, but she was mortified by the thought that he might have meant with Sam, as though he wielded any kind of dominance or control over her. She wanted to argue, to protest and insist that she didn't need to go to the stupid meeting, but she knew Roman would be uncomfortable if she stayed. And besides, any hint of romance had since evaporated from the night, and she struggled to see how they could possibly recapture what they'd had before Sam had so selfishly ruined the moment.
"Can I see you after?" Janey asked, hating how much her request came out as a plea. God, they had been so close to sharing their first kiss, and she wanted it more than anything.
Roman looked hesitant. "Of course," he said kindly, but Janey had seen the unmistakable reluctance before he'd tried to mask it. Her heart began to beat faster, this time in desperation. No, no, no, it couldn't be over already. Not before it had even properly begun.
She would amend it, she vowed. As soon as the dumb Prefect meeting was over, she would seek Roman out, she would profusely apologise, she'd kiss him herself, she'd tell him that she wanted to be exclusive with him. She was done waiting around and playing games—she would make it something beautiful herself.
"I'll meet you at the Hufflepuff Common Room," Janey vowed, truly hoping she could salvage the evening. "It will only be an hour."
"It might be longer," Sam mumbled grumpily.
Janey glared at him again. "Don't be a prick," she said distastefully, immediately losing the little amount of dignity she had managed to salvage. "You're getting what you wanted," she reminded him bitterly.
"This is not what I wanted," Sam said indignantly. "I would like for you to respect me enough to actually show up on time. You can't keep going out on Friday evenings to hang out with this guy!"
"I can do whatever I want," Janey bit back, certain that if Sam referred to Roman as 'this guy' one more time then she was going to strike him herself. "You can't—"
"Janey, I think you should just go," Roman interrupted before Janey could go on another tirade. "It's fine," he said kindly. "You don't want to be any later for your meeting, and we can talk later."
His beautiful amber eyes were urging her with a softness she rarely saw anyone look at her with, and it made her heart swell. He was so incredibly kind. It made a nice change from the arseholes she usually chose to date.
Janey stared at one such arsehole, though she'd rather eat slugs than ever date him. "Fine then," she said through gritted teeth, loathing Sam with her entire being. She gave Roman one last apologetic look, mortified by the scene Sam had caused.
He smiled back, urging her to go with his kind eyes.
And without waiting for Sam, Janey stalked back towards the castle. God, she had been so close. She felt for sure Roman had been about to finally kiss her, and now it was all ruined. How could they possibly recapture the magic of the moment later after everything that had now happened?
Sam had caught up to her, but Janey was striding determinedly ahead. She had done it for Roman, not for Sam, and she owed him nothing.
"That guy is a bad influence on you," Sam said critically, and Janey was so angry that she almost stopped to spin on her heel and scream at him.
"Just shut up," she hissed instead, still trying to put as much distance between them as possible. A difficult task given how much longer Sam's legs were, though she was giving it her all.
Janey waited for the scathing retort, but it never came. Good. Sam had got what he wanted in the end, so why did he have to keep pushing her?
After another minute of heated silence, he caved once more. "Were you seriously going to bail again?"
"I forgot, okay?" Janey snapped. "Some of us have way more interesting things going on in our lives to care about every stupid, little, boring meeting."
"Countless people would have killed for that badge," he said snidely, nodding towards her Prefect's badge.
"Well, why couldn't you have reminded me earlier?" she snapped back.
Janey was suddenly angry for another reason. Why couldn't Sam have reminded her earlier? If he had mentioned it even so much as an hour ago then she would have been prepared and she could have rearranged with Roman in a timely, polite manner. But instead, Sam had waited to burst in on her little evening stroll at the very last minute? That very much seemed like a him problem that he was projecting onto her.
Sam hesitated before he answered. "I was busy," he mumbled.
Janey's anger deepened. She could only guess as to who he had been busy with, and the fact that he was allowed to swan around with Isabella when he was giving her so much slack about Roman was deeply hypocritical in her opinion.
"And anyway," Sam said, gaining vigour once more. "It's not my responsibility to make sure you turn up to meetings on time."
"Yeah?" Janey snarled. "Well, next time, don't bother, and leave me alone to hang out with actual interesting guys."
Before Sam had a chance to offer a spiteful comeback, the two realised they were outside the meeting room. Late, of course, but at least they were both there.
For a second, they held each other's heated scowls, before Janey pushed open the door, Sam trailing behind her with a flushed face.
"Sam and Janey," Professor Bobbin said as they emerged into the meeting room, her lips pressed into a tight, disapproving line. "Five minutes late."
"But we're here," Sam said desperately. He threw a dirty look at Janey. "Both of us."
Bobbin appeared to let it go. "Very well," she conceded. "But anyway, as I was saying—"
Janey sank into her chair with her arms folded once more, staring resolutely ahead. She could almost feel the soppy shared look Sam and Isabella exchanged from across the meeting room, and it made her blood boil further.
But Sam was nothing to her. She would profusely ignore him for the next hour—and longer if she could. The seconds that stretched before her would be agonising, but all she could picture was Roman's face, inches away from her as he'd been about to kiss her. She could get back to that moment—she had to. She just had to endure a stupid hour of stupid Prefect stuff, that was all.
Janey slipped out of the room before anyone could even think of breathing a word to her. She didn't want to get caught up in jovial banter with James or play witness to Sam's pathetic attempts at smooth-talking Isabella. She was also fearful that the Headmistress might seek her out and condemn her for her thus far lax attitude to her Prefect responsibilities that year.
No, she had only one thought on her mind—only one person she wanted to see.
Janey had never run quicker as she sprinted down the corridor in the direction of the Hufflepuff Common Room, and then immediately regretted it as she neared the final corner. She didn't want to appear breathless and sweaty.
Not before the snogging anyway.
"Roman," Janey breathed in relief as she spotted him, true to his word, waiting for her outside the round barrel door that led to what they often referred to as the Badger Sett.
She broke out into a smile as she took in how charmingly handsome he was—a sight she was sure she would never cease to feel flustered by.
"Hi," he greeted her, but if Janey wasn't very much mistaken, a sort of sadness lingered in his tone.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"I'm so sorry," Janey apologised. "About earlier. I completely forgot about the Prefect meeting, and Sam was such an arsehole about it. I didn't mean to bail on you, and—"
"Janey," Roman interrupted, kindly but firmly. "It's okay. Should we go for a walk?"
Janey nodded, unsure what to say. She was struggling to read the situation. He seemed sad. Disappointed?—she wondered. Her anxiety about what was going to next transpire was killing her. He was being so kind, but she could not deny that there was now something lingering between them. Something she wasn't sure she was going to like.
Roman did not take Janey's hand as he had done the first time they'd taken a walk that evening. She tried not to read into it too much.
Janey waited until they were out in the grounds once more. She had wanted him to speak first, but Roman remained stoically silent, as though deep in thought.
"What are you thinking about?" she whispered, though not flirtatiously as she had done previously, but rather desperately unsure she wanted to hear the answer.
Roman cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. With the dappled moonlight illuminating him, Janey could see how obviously he was avoiding looking her in the eyes.
He cleared his throat. "I, ah, I've been thinking a lot over the past hour."
That didn't sound good.
"Yeah?" Janey asked, heart thumping with overriding anxiety within her chest.
"Yeah," Roman said. "I, uh, I'm just not sure it's such a good idea that we…"
No, no, no.
"Hang out anymore," he finished delicately.
Janey allowed a second of internal screaming to pass before she answered in a calm, controlled voice. "I only have Prefect meetings every other Friday evening. I honestly just forgot about tonight. And the last one," she admitted sheepishly. "But they're literally only an hour, it isn't like—"
"Janey, it's not just the Prefect meetings," Roman interrupted. "It all just seems a bit… intense."
Intense? Intense? How could anything between them be considered intense—they hadn't even had a snog yet!
"Between you and I?" Janey asked in a small, confused voice.
"Between you and that Sam guy. And I… I don't really want to get caught in the middle of anything. I've been hurt before—with my ex—and it sucks."
Janey was so dumbfounded that her jaw literally fell down in shock. "Sam?" she repeated in disbelief. "There's absolutely nothing going on between Sam and I, I can assure you of that!"
Was he insane?
Roman looked deeply uncomfortable. "He seemed pretty unhappy about you spending time with me."
"Because he's an arsehole!" Janey insisted, completely taken aback by the turn their conversation had taken. "Sam and I have clashed with each other since we first became Prefects," she tried to calmly explain, blood boiling beneath the surface. "We can't stand each other, and he gets weirdly controlling about the Prefect stuff. It's not like… it's nothing to do with me," she said desperately. "I mean, it is to do with me, but not… not like that."
Roman didn't look any less convinced. "I'm not sure, Janey, it seemed a little more personal than that."
"Well, it isn't!" she defended furiously. How, how, was this happening? That Roman could possibly think there was any kind of underlying emotions, or jealousy or something, between her and Sam, was so far from the truth that it made her want to scream.
"Sam is not interested in me," Janey said firmly. "Nor am I with him," she added for good measure. "He's not… jealous of us hanging out. It isn't like that. As long as I turn up to Prefect meetings on time then he won't be a problem."
Roman still looked uncomfortable. "But it's not just that," he tried to explain in a weak voice. "It's just… it's my last year at Hogwarts, and I've got my NEWTS soon, and Quidditch, and everything—"
"And I respect that," Janey interrupted.
"—and I just don't think I can afford to let myself get… distracted."
Janey wanted to scream. She wanted to scream.
"Roman, I promise you," Janey said sincerely, "I have stuff I need to focus on too."
God, why did it sound like she was begging? What had happened to the cool, casual Janey who had managed to manufacture everything so perfectly up until that point? Was she losing her edge?
"We don't have to commit to something serious," Janey pointed out, trying to be as kind and reassuring as possible. "We're just two people hanging out. It's just casual… fun."
Roman involuntarily grimaced. "I'm not really a 'casual fun' kind of guy though, Janey. I am very much a relationship kind of guy. But I just… I don't think…"
I don't think I want to be in a relationship with you, Janey silently finished for him. She felt an unwelcome prickle of tears start to form behind her eyes and used every ounce of strength to bury it deep inside of her. Pull yourself together, she thought furiously. She wasn't going to cry over some guy she wasn't even in a relationship with—who she hadn't even kissed.
But God, first Deneb and now this? Rejection did not get any easier. Janey could not believe she had been so idiotically stupid to think she could have a fair shot at romance. Clearly, guys did not want to be with her romantically. She was good for one thing and one thing only, and she should have realised that sooner. Why couldn't she have just stayed in her damn lane instead of striving for something reserved only for girls like Rose, and Gwen, and stupid Isabella?
Janey forcibly bit back the tears. She would never let them fall, least of all for something as stupid as a boy she barely knew not wanting to date her.
"I really like you, Janey," Roman offered weakly, a failed attempt at reassurance.
No, no, no.
Janey almost rolled her eyes. Not the whole, 'It's not you, it's me' spiel that she had offered countless guys as a get-out clause herself before.
"But you seem like you attract a lot of drama," he went on sheepishly. "And I don't think I'm the right kind of guy to handle all that."
Janey realised then. It wasn't her at all. She hadn't condemned herself. It was Sam. He had ruined the beautiful thing Janey could have had with Roman—with his incessant need to control and belittle her and his ability to draw out the worst in her. She had been doing everything right until that evening—until Sam had burst in and made her look like some kind of crazy, dramatic harpy.
Janey just shook her head, shocked into disbelief. How had it ended before it had ever really started?
"I'm sorry," Roman said, looking authentically apologetic.
"It's fine," Janey forced herself to say, because what else could she say? Was she supposed to scream, and fight, and beg? Was she supposed to argue and defend herself? "I have a lot of stuff I need to focus on too," she lied again, trying to save face. "It's probably for the best."
She would not let him be the one to reject her—it would be a completely mutual decision.
Roman looked like he truly believed it as a look of relief seemed to glimmer in his eyes. "We'll still see each other around," he said kindly.
"Oh, for sure," Janey said in a falsely chirpy voice. She felt like she was going to throw up.
"On the Quidditch pitch," Roman went on.
"Well, I'll see you," Janey said brightly. "You'll just see a blur go by when I catch the Snitch." Why couldn't the ground just swallow her up?
Roman laughed, and Janey could tell, by the way his whole body had softened beside her, that he felt relieved. Like they were really, truly okay. Just two buddies laughing and hanging out. Like Janey didn't want to curl up into a ball and scream until her lungs burst.
"We'll see about that," he said, and where it might once have been flirtatious, it was now nothing but polite banter.
"Well," Janey declared, awkwardly clearing her throat. "I guess, err, I'll be heading back to the Tower."
"Do you want me to walk you back?" Roman offered.
"No," Janey said a little too quickly. "No, it's fine," she amended, offering a kind smile back. She took the moment to drink in every little detail of his charming face one last time. The soft, bronze curls she would never get to run her hands through, the Cupid's bow lips she would never get to kiss.
"Okay, well, err—" Roman looked like he was considering hugging Janey, one final act of platonic affection before they likely never spoke to each other again, but she could bear it no more.
"Goodnight, Roman," Janey blurted out, and she had spun on her heel before he could even have a chance to say goodbye himself.
The tears had begun to fall before she'd even made it halfway back across the grounds, and Janey was furious at herself. She wiped them away in disgust. How had she been so stupid. Why, just like with Deneb, had she blindly believed that a guy might actually be interested in her for more than just the one thing she normally offered them? And in this case, Roman had shut things down before he'd even gotten a chance to sample that one thing. How completely mortifying.
Janey's eyes were bone dry by the time she'd reached the portrait hole. She knew the common room would be packed, as it was a Friday night, but she wanted to slip in undetected and just go straight to her room to be alone. After the tumultuous evening she'd had, she really didn't have the energy to engage with anybody else.
But she had no such luck.
"Janey!" Rose called as soon as the blonde Prefect slipped into the room, her face lighting up from amongst the gathering of their usual cohort.
Janey flashed Rose a small smile, hoping her eyes conveyed that she really didn't want to stay and chat. The redhead clearly intuited something was off immediately and dropped her face into a frown. "Janey, are you okay?" she asked, rushing to the girl's side.
Rose was too empathetic for her own good. Could she tell that Janey had been crying? God, that would be mortifying.
"I'm fine," Janey forced herself to say. "I'm just super tired—and I really want to get to bed."
But Rose did not look convinced in the slightest. "But—"
Janey's attention was so sharply drawn by a face she had not expected to see—the last face on earth she wanted to see right then—that she completely ignored whatever Rose was trying to say to her, such was the overriding anger that coursed through her petite body.
Sam looked just as surprised to see Janey so soon after they had last crossed paths.
"You complete and utter ARSEHOLE!" Janey was screaming before she could even properly take stock of just how many people were in the common room. She had launched herself at Sam without a single thought for what would happen if she were to actually succeed in throttling him, so it was just as well that someone much stronger had caught her around the waist before she had the chance to move more than one step forward.
"You have to ruin everything," Janey yelled in a strangled voice, paying no mind to her captor, the prickle of tears threatening once more. Maybe she didn't care. She was so beyond angry that maybe, if the tears did spill, she wouldn't care how many people saw it.
"What happened?" Rose asked, paling in shock at Janey's outburst, her question directed at Sam, who had gone equally as white.
He just looked to the redhead with panic, seemingly just as unnerved by Janey's level of fury. "I didn't—"
"You didn't do anything," Janey finished for him, her tongue dripping with pure venom. "You never do anything, do you, Sam?"
The boy looked too shocked to respond, clearly unsure what exactly had prompted such outrage that evening.
"Let me go," Janey snarled instead to whoever still had a firm hold of her. It couldn't be Rose—she was still passively standing by Janey's side, confused and concerned.
"Unfortunately, Janey, as Head Boy, I really shouldn't be condoning any preventable violence in my own common room," the familiar, amused voice of James Potter spoke close to her ear.
Janey hadn't even realised he'd been in the vicinity. Neither, apparently, had Rose, because she looked rather relieved that James had managed to intervene before things had turned violent.
"James, I swear to God—"
"Look," James cut her off before Janey's threat could be spoken into existence. "Whatever's happened, I'm sure we can resolve it without violence."
"Or magic," Rose said, warily eyeing the wand poking out of Janey's back pocket.
Now, that was a genius idea, Janey thought with hunger—a thousand Stinging Hexes aimed at Sam's genitals. But Rose was particularly quick when it came to Disarming, Janey realised, and she didn't stand a chance with so many of her friends and peers around to quickly intervene.
"He deserves violence," Janey snarled, certain Bobbin would be appalled if she could see her sixth-year Gryffindor Prefect in that moment. But Janey didn't care. She was so beyond caring.
But Sam finally fell into an angry frown of his own. "You are insane," he said coolly.
Janey lurched forward, intending to show him just how truly insane she could be and smack the smug look clean off his face. Unfortunately, James was far stronger than Janey, exerting incredibly little effort in order to keep her rooted.
"Let me go, James," she ordered, certain she'd be content with striking him in the face on Sam's behalf if it came down to it.
"Absolutely not," he replied with further amusement. "Unless you tell me why you want to smack the shit out of Sam and I can validate it as a worthwhile reason to do so."
"He ruined everything," Janey yelled, staring at Sam with furious hatred. "Because he's jealous, and selfish, and—"
"Because I made you fulfil your responsibilities as a Prefect and actually turn up to one of the meetings you keep skipping?" Sam asked sarcastically. "Because I didn't want another detention because you're so carelessly selfish and—"
"You didn't have to act like such a controlling prick in front of Roman—storming out into the grounds like that," Janey interrupted. "Acting entitled—like you're so much better than me."
"Who's Roman?" James asked with interest.
"Janey's dumb Hufflepuff boyfriend," Sam spitefully answered on her behalf, looking particularly aggravated. "Who clearly doesn't have any respect for what it means to be a Prefect and—"
"He is not my boyfriend," Janey snarled. "And now, after tonight, he never will be! He doesn't want anything to do with me because of you and your incessant need to be the centre of the world and insert your fat head into things that don't concern you!"
Rose looked at Janey sharply, her mouth opening in shock.
Sam looked taken aback. "Look, it's not my fault if he dumped you."
"He did not dump me," Janey asserted with vigour. She would absolutely not have it going around the school that she had been dumped. Janey was the one who called things off with guys, not the other way around. And besides, she and Roman couldn't have broken up when they weren't even together—she needed to set the record straight. Sam would not sully her reputation with falsehoods.
"Maybe he realised you were selfish and unreliable," Sam said, refusing to back down. "Maybe he didn't want to be involved with someone who has no respect for anybody other than themselves—I'm not going to take accountability for that."
Janey tensed within James' grip. "It's because of you!" she screamed. "Because you completely embarrassed me and made him think there was some kind of drama between us—some deluded history that he didn't want to get caught up in!"
Once more, Sam looked completely caught off-guard. "Well," he spluttered, his cheeks turning slightly pink, "that just goes to show how dumb he really is then, doesn't it?"
Janey let out a shrieky sort of cry of frustration, the ability to form words that could convey just how angry she was now completely beyond her.
Sam looked frightened, and rightly so. If only James weren't holding her back, Janey thought darkly.
"He is not dumb," she insisted, trying to force as much calm into her demeanour as she possibly could, incredibly wary of how many people were, once more, observing her engage in a screaming match with her co-Prefect.
"No," Sam agreed, gaining an arrogant confidence again. "No, he was smart enough to realise that getting involved with you would be a horrible mistake, after all."
Janey lurched once more, but this time not towards Sam, but rather away from him. "Let me go, James," she ordered again. "I'm done. I'm done." All she wanted was to escape—from the common room, from Sam, from everything. She never should have wasted her energy on confronting him in the first place.
James slackened his grip but seemed to think better of it, refusing to fully relinquish the hold he had on her.
"I'm not kidding," she insisted as calmly as she could, turning her head to actually, finally look at him. "I just want to go to bed."
James looked incredibly wary but seemed to search for sincerity in Janey's eyes. "Alright," he agreed, apparently satisfied with what he found.
And finally, she was free.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Rose asked. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I'm fine." Honestly, why did they insist on molly-coddling her?
Janey did not wait to find out if Rose was satisfied with Janey's answer before she was striding across the common room with her head held high, ignoring the staring eyes and the hushed whispers that followed her.
She had almost reached the top of the stairs when she had an impulsive, wicked urge. Before anyone could stop her, and without hanging around to witness the commotion it caused, Janey retrieved her wand from her back pocket with lightning reflexes and shot one perfectly aimed Stinging Hex directly at Sam before she disappeared from view, smiling sweetly to herself as she heard the unmistakable howl that let her know she had achieved a direct hit.
Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Taylor Swift's 'Foolish One'