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The Time of Cupids by GryffindorGirl153

Format: Novella
Chapters: 23
Word Count: 170,423
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Humor, Romance
Characters: James (II), OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: James/OC, Other Pairing

First Published: 01/08/2011
Last Chapter: 05/06/2013
Last Updated: 05/06/2013


Cupids were supposed to be mythical creatures. They were supposed to exist only in fairy tales; not in real life, and definitely not as my best friend. Meet Desmond Pierce, resident cupid, and soon-to-be, dead Cupid. All because he shot me with an arrow and made me fall in love with the boy I spent my entire life hating. James Sirius Potter.

Chapter 1: Cupid at Work and Nazi Quidditch Captains
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

There are twelve small, teensy, faded freckles splattered across James Potter’s nose. Yes, I counted correctly. No I didn’t count one freckle twice. How am I so sure? Because I just spent the past hour staring at his face, counting his cute, little, freckles. Hush up; I’m not a creep. I’m just in love.
My best friend is a cupid. He thought it would be funny to make James Sirius Potter and I fall in love. I thought it would be funny to shove his bow in places where the sun does not shine. We’re still not even.

Love is pain. Literally.

“You know, you should really learn how to keep that arrow of yours to yourself.” A small chuckle slipped past my lips as I caught my best mate hiding behind a suit of armor, his bow and arrow in hand. There was a familiar glint of mischief twinkling in his open eye, as he focused on a tiny, fourth year Hufflepuff walking beside a short, stout boy. “It’s rude to meddle with other people’s love life.” I whispered in his ear, attempting to congeal myself behind his tall, lean body.

Meet Mr. Pierce. Desmond Pierce. My best mate since age eleven.

If you must ask—yes, hiding behind suits of armors and stalking young couples (or any couple for that matter) is part of our daily routine. (No, I’m not kidding)

You see, Desmond here, is a Cupid—a very rare magical creature that have almost gone extinct in one of the earlier Wizard Wars. Why? I have no clue. I mean, what could a cupid possibly do in a war? Make enemies fall in love, so that they skip off into the sunset holding hands, forgetting that the entire world has gone to shit? That’s rather unlikely. Anyway, this little history lesson is irrelevant to my point.

Meet my best mate. He likes eating grass flavored jelly beans (I know, disgusting, right? I think it’s a Cupid thing), Quidditch (one of the many reasons why I love this boy with all my heart), and Layla Miller (the girl of his dreams, and my best-girl-friend. Although, he'd never, ever say it outloud). He hates—well what do you know—Valentines Day.

“Merlin, Vic. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” He whispered nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the couple slowly approaching him. It was as if he was being sarcastic… I couldn’t really tell. I find it slightly hilarious that little Dessie here tries to pull of sarcasm as well as I do. “One,” he breathed. “Two,” Hey, look at that. Dessie knows how to count to two. “Three.” Oh damn. He knows how to count to three, too.

Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? My name is Victoria Rose, but no one in this world ever calls me Victoria except my irritable Grandmother who refuses to die. (Seriously, the woman is a hundred and five years old.) I love to play Quidditch, and I hate curly hair. It’s rather unfortunate that my hair is naturally curly and irrefutably refuses to stay flat. I’m extremely opinionated, and too sarcastic for my own good. Now enough about me. My life story is a bore.

A cry of pain echoed throughout the corridor as sharp, red arrow dug into the poor boy’s flesh. Personally, I think it’s unfair, and incredibly stupid for the arrow to have to go into person’s arse, just so it would work.

“God, Des.” I groaned. I absolutely detested hearing the cry of pain that came from the poor, unfortunate soul that has just been struck by a love arrow. “You couldn’t have warned me?”

He rolled his eyes, and walked back into the secret passage he came from. “I started counting! You knew what was coming.”

I sighed, following him through the small, dark corridor, pulling the suit of armor behind me. “I know—I just can’t ever get used to that.” I admitted. “Love sounds so… incredibly painful.”

Desmond chuckled, as always. “Love is pain, baby.” He hopped out of the portrait hole, and held out his hand for me to take. “That’s the one thing I learned as a Cupid. Love is pain.”

I chortled. “You’ll have to remind me of that next time.”

“Ah, ‘next time’.” We began walking down the corridor and Des slipped his arm over my shoulders casually. “The next time, shall be when you are out of Hogwarts, with a steady job, and completely stress free.”

There he goes being the over-protective git he always is. So I do what I always do. I elbowed him in the ribs. “Git.” I muttered under my breath.

He chuckled. “Alright, alright—you can have a boyfriend in Hogwarts. BUT he needs to have the Desmond seal of approval before he goes anywhere near you.”

I rolled my eyes, and fought back a smile. “As if I need your approval to date anyone.”

He laughed again, but this time, he did not look so playful. “Vic, take me seriously for once. I’m doing this for you. I’m only protecting you for all those heartless blokes out there. If only you can see a fourth of the heartbreak I’ve seen over the years, you wouldn’t even want to find love at all.”

Sighing, I wrapped my arm around his waist and pressed myself closer to him. I loved Desmond. “Thank you Des. But I’ll take my chances. I will be okay.”

I knew he cared. That was all Desmond ever did. Care and worry about me. But eventually, little girls need to learn how to stand on their own two feet.


“Mother of Merlin, James! CALM DOWN!” I screeched, attempting to project my voice through the large Quidditch Stadium. My stupid, idiotic Quidditch captain forced us (his poor, miserable team) to run laps. Why? Because he found his girlfriend—well, now ex-girlfriend) shagging the Slytherin Quidditch Captain in the broom shed.

That girl was daft anyway. She couldn’t tell the difference between a Snitch and a Quaffle. You would think that a girl like her would be familiar with all different types of balls by now. Bloody idiot.


Anyway. Back to my homicidal Captain, who by the way is currently lounging on his fucking broom, hovering above us as he watches us sweat and suffer under the heat. “IT’S NOT OUR BLOODY FAULT THAT SHE CHEATED ON YOU.” I grumbled loudly. “MAYBE IF YOU PERFORMED UP TO STANDARD, THEN SHE WOULD STILL BE SHAGGING YOUR PATHETIC ARSE.”

I get a little bit overboard when I’m tired, pissed, and hot. I can literally feel the sweat rolling down the side of my face, and down my cleavage. Let me tell you, it feels disgusting. I wouldn’t mind jumping into the Black Lake right about now. At least it’s cold, and the Giant Squid isn’t some stupid, heart broken teenager who takes his anger out on his fucking team.

Merlin, I hate Potter.

Oh, by the way. Meet James Sirius Potters. He’s hot (or so the entire female population of Hogwarts says). But be warned, he’s also the biggest prat alive. He’s Desmond’s best mate. I don’t know how, but he is. I know, I question it all the time too.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I heard him shout, being the almighty King of Prats that he is. Honestly, what is the purpose of asking what I had just said, even though we all know that he heard me perfectly? “Ten more laps, Rose!” And there it is.

“Fuck. Him.” I grumbled under my breath. “I fucking hate him.”

So I ran. Those ten, horrendous laps, I ran. And with every step I took, with ever collision between my foot and the dirty, I cursed Potter under my breath. Oh yes, I cursed him to bloody oblivion. Unfortunately, every time I took the last turn around the pitch, he was still standing there, right in the middle of the pitch, consuming valuable airspace with that ginormous head of his.

“Vicky, you know better than to speak against Potter.” I wanted to punch this idiot in the face for speaking to me in such a condescending manner. ‘Fuck. You.’ were the only two words running through my head at the moment. I knew I always hated him. Meet Peter Lockwood, the most annoying little bugger on the face of this planet. He’s our replacement keeper for the rest of this season until our real seeker, Rupe Tuttermen, gets better. He took a bludger to the head about two weeks ago—work of a Slytherin of course—and McGonagall refuses to allow him back on a broomstick until he is fully functioning. He’s rather loopy right now.

I ramble too much, don’t I?

“Shut the fuck up, Pete.” I snarled angrily, walking away from the tosser. I spotted Desmond and the lovely Layla Miller lounging on their broomsticks not far from the hoops, and I made my way over, hoping that either one of them could put me out of my misery.

“Oi!” Darn.

“What?” I snapped furiously, turning around.

Potter was a lot closer than I expected.

Thanks to my graceful long legs, I smacked right into his chest—his rock hard chest. Since when was Potter so… built?

Focus girl. You’re mad at him, remember?

I glare at him. “What do you want?”

“I’m not finished with you yet.” He began, his eyes turning into slits as well. “You need to learn how to shut that annoyingly large mouth of yours, Rose. It could get you into trouble one day.”

The nerve of this guy. “What the hell is your problem Potter? You’ve been picking on me all day!” I snapped. “Did you even care to notice that Peter has missed every single quaffle thrown at him? Or that the snitch is still fluttering around in the air? And you’re the bloody seeker! Did you even notice that Layla was almost hit by a bludger because of Fred’s failure to comprehend the fact that bludgers aren’t a bloody toy? No! Because you’re too busy being a bloody prick to even realize that your team is falling apart!”

Boy, if I were a boy, Potter would’ve beaten me into a bloody pulp by now. I could see the red flush spreading through his neck and up to his cheeks. I could almost see the steam escaping through his ears. “Ten more laps, Rose.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he raised his arm and pointed to the track. “Go.” He growled, his low voice rumbling through his throat.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No.”

“No?” he asked incredulously, incredibly surprised that his little ‘minion’ had just defied him. “No? You’re saying no? I’m your captain, Rose. I could easily kick you off this team like that.” He snapped his blasted fingers in front of my face.

Arguing and bickering as if there was no tomorrow was completely normal behavior for Potter and I. This little situation between us could have been worse. I mean, look around. No one is even paying attention to us. Well, maybe except Desmond and Layla.

“Go ahead.” I retorted in a low, challenging tone. “Kick me off the team. As if you will find a better chaser by the time the next game comes around—or for the rest of the year for that matter. You know very well—as well as I do in fact—that you need me on this team.”

Potter raised his big, fat, high and mighty head, and proceeded to scoff his brains out. “Oh please. I could replace you in a second. I’ve actually been looking at other students with potential out there to be a chaser.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh cut the crap, Potter. Even if you did find someone to replace me, this team wouldn’t be as good as it was.”

“I beg to differ, Vicky.” Ohhhhh, I quiver with fear.

“Alright then, Potter. Just remember, you got yourself into this shit hole. I fucking quit.” Is it just me, or does anyone else find it really weird that everyone suddenly just got really quiet?

After a couple of seconds of silence, I suddenly heard Layla’s ridiculously loud voice slicing through the air. “Vic.” She said in her ‘you better stop or you’ll get yourself into trouble’ tone. “Don’t be rash.” And that was Layla—the reason behind everything. “James, just stop it, you know very well that Vic is the best chaser out there.”

“Fine.” Potter said, completely ignoring the voice of reason that was Layla. “Quit then—you’ll be replaced by tomorrow’s practice.”

I laughed loudly and rather sarcastically. “I’d like to see you try, Potter.”

He glowered at me. “I can replace you in a heartbeat.” This boy was too confident for his own good. He’s going to land himself an empty Chaser position by the time the next game rolls around.

“Fine.” I assumed it was because I am too incredibly prideful and stubborn, two of my better traits. “I quit.” I spat the world out viciously, hoping that this prat standing before me would drown in it. Potter thinks he can have me replaced in a heartbeat? I’d love to see him try. He will be groveling at my feet in about a week. No other Gryffindor will last a day with James Freaking Potter as their captain.

I don’t know why I did it, honestly. Not being on the Quidditch team would mean that I would have all this spare time on my hands, and I would simply end up roaming the castle in search for something to occupy myself with. Also, not being on the team would mean that the lovely James Potter would no longer be available as anger/stress relief. I guess that’s one (more like the only) pro of having Potter as my blasted captain.

“What?” I heard Layla screech, having watched our entire dispute. “Vic, you can’t quit! We’ve got a game in two weeks! If you quit, James will end up working us all to the ground!” From the corner of my eye, I watched Layla viciously slap Desmond’s arm, who was looking incredibly nonchalant standing beside her. She begged him to do something about my stubbornness. “Des, would you please knock some sense into both of them?” she exclaimed, pointing to both Potter and me. “There is no way in hell that I am going to spend my next two weeks in this pitch, working until the dirt has permanently settled into my skin.”

Now, when Layla demanded for Desmond to knock some sense into both Potter and me, I expected something along the lines of oral reasoning—probably a little speech that sounded a little like ‘You two are crazy—Vic, you’re not going to quit the team, and James, stop being such an arsehole’. You know, the standard speech that would come from a mutual best friend. However, I suppose I was stupid enough to expect the usual from Desmond of all people—Desmond who was in fact, a Cupid! Distastefully, Cupids believed in the unexpected nature of love. Unexpected in the sense that it may blossomed from the most unlikely pair in the world, which is probably why Desmond thought it was necessary to shoot my arse with a bleeding arrow. Unwillingly, a cry of pain escaped my lips as the arrow tore through my flesh and mingled with my flowing blood.

Guess who was the first man I saw.

James Freaking Potter, that’s who.

Desmond won’t get away with this. No—not until I’m buried ten feet beneath the ground.

Oh gee—I never noticed how James Potter was so… cute.

A/N: another new james/oc! tell me what you guys think :)

Chapter 2: Girl Talk and Stubbornness
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

A/N: sorry to do this to you guys, but this is a new re-write of the previous chapter. there is a paragraph or two that's taken from the previous one, but that's it. it's rather different. i had to rewrite this one since i had no idea where i was going with the other chapter, and it was just too messy for my liking. enjoy!

edited 8.24

Chapter Two
James Potter

I was a man with a mission. I felt like I should have dressed up in completely black attire while I successfully crouched behind dull suits of armor, hid behind tapestries, and quietly maneuver my way through the corridors of Hogwarts in search for a certain Cupid whose wings were probably spread out in plain sight. It was around nine, the time when most students began to retire back to their common room. It was during this time that Desmond felt it was best to work. Regrettably, he was sneakier than I could ever be; he being, an experienced Cupid with wings, while I, on the other hand, am simply one of the three offspring’s of the infamous Harry Potter who seemingly neglected to pass down his infamous abilities. It was a ridiculous fact; The Boy Who Lived refuses to teach his own sons how to sneak up on his own best friend so that they may proceed in beating the life out of them.

Perhaps my almighty father had foreseen this, therefore, had managed to avoid cleaning up the mess his own son had made from a bloody murder. In my opinion, my father has had a taste of much too many prophecies during his time. He had probably tasted more than a (mislabeled) seer.

Nevertheless, despite my lack of agile abilities (one reason why I was not fit to be a keeper), I was able to track a Cupid down. I was a Seeker, for Merlin’s sake! If I could not track down a six-foot boy with a set of wings, a bright halo, and a bow strapped to his back, then I will be ashamed to even call myself a Seeker.

I was going to kill him—that wanker—I was going to kill him. How dare he shoot Victoria, his best friend and the one girl I cannot stand, with a bloody arrow so that she can fall in love with me? Victoria! Victoria Rose! Of all bleeding girls, he chose Victoria Rose. (Yes, I am aware of the fact that he did not choose Victoria—it sort of just happened. But please, allow me to be overdramatic for just a short while.) She’s that short annoying girl that I can never seem to evade. Wherever I go, she’s standing right there, just waiting for the next chance to piss me off. It did not help at all that we had five other mutual friends, and we were on the same Quidditch team, which killed any chances of avoiding one another. I did not live a day of my life without seeing her horrendously (pretty) face.

I felt like a shark going for its prey—I probably looked like one too. Nevertheless, I didn’t care. At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to have Desmond’s detached head in my hands. I was going to rip his head off with my bare hands—with absolutely no help from magic.

There was no way he was going to do this to me and get away with it.

No flippin way.

“Oi!” I finally spotted him poking his head out of a thick tapestry. Honestly, if I can spot him aiming an arrow at some helpless bloke, I’m pretty sure everyone else in the castle can.

I watched carefully as his fingers released the tight bow, causing the arrow to shoot straight towards the Ravenclaw. A shout of pain echoed throughout the corridor as the bloke’s hand immediately shot to his arse in attempt to soothe the pain. A look of triumph spread through Desmond’s face as he spotted a short, stout blonde rounding the corner—right in the bloke’s line of view.

“Oi!” I repeated, deciding that it was safe to distract Cupid from his daily work, not that I really cared at this point. “Des! You bloody git, get your arse over here.” I ordered in my most threatening voice.

Desmond pocketed the rest of his arrows before he completely immerged from the tapestry. “How’s it going, mate?” he began causally, flipping his hair.


I growled at him with distaste. “Don’t ‘how’s it going, mate’ me, Pierce!” it was rather strange calling my best friend by his surname, but I had to enforce my anger as well as my (nonexistent) authority. “Reverse that arrow you shot at Victoria’s arse!” I bellowed desperately; pleadingly. “What were you thinking? How can you make her fall in love with me? Are you bloody insane?”

“No can do, James.” Desmond replied. “And no, I am not insane. I am Cupid.” He flashed me a grin as we began walking towards the staircase leading to the rest of the moving staircases. “Arrows can’t be reversed, remember? They can only be pulled out if the other person falls in love with the one who is shot. We already went through this, mate. Get with the program.” He snapped his fingers at me—he bloody snapped his bloody, fucking fingers at me.

“You’re Cupid! There must be something you can do to reverse this hell-hole you have created for me!”

Desmond thought for a moment, giving me the slightest bit of hope that there was something he could do about it. “Well, there is one thing.” He said, his hands moving to the side of his head as he began thinking. “Fall in love with Victoria and pull it out yourself.”

I stared at him with a good ten seconds. “Are you insane?”

“Nope, I’m Cupid.” He repeated, giving me a stupid grin, and I wanted to punch it right of his face. “Relax, James. I gave her a play arrow.” Finally, he was saying something reassuring. “She doesn’t really love you—well actually, I wouldn’t really know. But anyway, it’s only an arrow that forces her to love you”

Even so, I groaned and ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t care if she doesn’t love me! I just want it to stop! Do you have any idea what she did this morning during breakfast?”

“Of course I do, mate. I was there.” He replied, chuckling at the memory.

“She started putting food on my plate.” I growled. “No girl puts food on my plate—that is something that I do. She’s not my bloody wife, or mother, or fiancé or girlfriend—she’s not even my friend!”

“I hate to break it to you, James, but the only way that this will ever go away, is for you to pull it out yourself.”

Exasperatedly, I let out a cry of annoyance. “Why are you even close to being stupid enough to shoot Victoria with an arrow?” I asked, running down a flight of stairs after him. “Des, if you haven’t noticed, Vic and I hate each other. We can’t stand being in the same room as one another without wanting to rip each other’s heads off. What makes you think that we won’t go crazy if we end up in love?”

He shrugged. The wanker shrugged. “You two bicker like there’s no tomorrow, and it’s about time that it stops. Listen, mate,” Desmond stopped in his tracks and turned around with a serious look on his face. “You and Vic are my best friends, and honestly, after seven years of fighting, I can’t stand it anymore. She quit the Quidditch team yesterday because the two of you were bickering once again. Do you have any idea how important Quidditch is to her?”

I scowled. “All she has to do is beg and grovel, and I’ll let her back on the team.”

Victoria Rose

“Please, Layla.” I groaned with annoyance, rolling around on my bed as I gripped at my hair. “Layla, make it stop.”

From her bed, Layla sighed exasperatedly for the fiftieth time that afternoon. “For the last time, Vic—I cannot stop you from thinking about James Potter.” She said nonchalantly as she flipped through a fashion magazine that was propped up on a pillow. “Why don’t you start thinking about food instead?” She flipped a page roughly. “You like food more than Potter, don’t you?”

I groaned again, and pressed my face tightly against the soft pillow beneath my head, trying to push all thoughts of James Potter out of my head. “I wish I did.” I mumbled against the soft fabric. “Merlin, I wish I did.”

This time, Layla laughed loudly. “Honey, when Desmond shot you with that arrow, he shot you good.”

I’ve never been shot with one of Desmond’s love arrows before. He generally opposed all relations that concerned me and another teenage boy (or any boy of any age for that matter). His arrows are particularly different (or so he says) from other cupids. Usually, a Cupids arrow would simply put false feelings and thoughts into one’s mind until they are completely and irrevocably in love with the first man or woman they (luckily, or unluckily) set their eyes on. Desmond’s, on the other hand, is a whole different story.

You see, Desmond does not shoot people for fun. He is definitely not one of those Cupids who fly around shooting arrows at random people for amusement. He plays on the strings of fate (or so he says). I’m not exactly sure how it works; maybe his little invisible Cupid wings flutter when a potential couple passes by, and then BAM. He shoots them. His arrows draw out all the feelings of doubt, embarrassment, anger and/or sadness; leaving only the feelings of ‘love’ they hold for their ‘significant other’. Desmond says he simply draws out their emotions on the table, making it easier for both parties to see what has been boiling in between them.

This little fact causes me to worry. Desmond definitely should not go against his morals and values just to make Potter and I fall in love as joke! Unless he is indirectly saying that there is something going on between Potter and I—no, that’s freaking impossible. Not even on my good days, do I even like him. I have this theory. If the victim feel absolutely nothing for the other person they set eyes on first, then there would be no feelings to draw out to the table, which would mean that the love arrow would be useless.

My theory is amazing, right? That means that Desmond’s little plan is completely futile!

(Or so I thought)

“Shut up, Layla.” I murmured, scowling against the pillow. “But I am hungry come to think of it.” I said after thinking for a while.

Layla glanced at her wristwatch, and continued flipping through the magazine set in front of her. “Lessons start in fifteen minutes. You’re going to have to wait until lunch.”

Layla and I have been in our dorm room for about half an hour now. With a free period and a break, we had a lot of time to spare before our next lesson. Usually, we would find an empty table in the library and catch up on some unfinished homework, but today, considering my current ‘love’ situation, we decided to leave our unfinished homework as it is, and retire to our dorm room. It was incredibly unproductive to be sitting in our beds, flipping through magazines and screaming into a pillow on this wonderful afternoon, but hey—I just fell in love a couple of hours ago, and there is no way that I am going to act like this is something normal.

It must seem like falling in love with James Sirius Potter is every girls’ dream. Well, it’s not really a dream—more like a reality. Every day, girls would fall over his feet, regardless of his asshole tendencies. They would constantly try to snag a date with the infamous Potter, who was the second heartthrob of Hogwarts, standing right beside Michael Conner, the last of their trio boy-band group (or whatever you want to call it).

Potter was everything a girl wanted. He was sexy, handsome, smart (I know, surprising, right?), amazing at Quidditch and (well, from what I’ve heard) an amazing kisser. Not that I would know from personal experience, or anything of that sort. However, along with all these amazing (haha—not) qualities, Potter was an—for a lack of a better word—asshole. He was a downright asshole, and girls loved it. The only person he was not an asshole to was Desmond, Michael and his cousins.

“Merlin, I feel like I’m on my period and this is just some killer cramp that won’t go away.” I mumbled to Layla. “I’m going to kill Desmond. I swear to Merlin that he will die at my hands.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little… overdramatic? We ate breakfast with Des, but you managed to refrain yourself from killing him.”

“I was.. er.. slightly distracted during breakfast.” And then I glared at her. “What would you do if he made you fall in love with a complete asshole?”

Layla laughed again and flipped the page of her magazine. “I thought you were supposed to be in love with James. How can you still call him an asshole if you’re in love with him?”

I blinked a couple of times and asked myself the same question. “I don’t know, actually.” I admitted. “Well, the feeling is there—I know I love him, or at least I like him a heck of a lot, but it’s just a feeling. I know Potter is an asshole, so why deny something that I already know?”

All I got from Layla was a strange look. “You are seriously a very strange girl… according to Desmond, you’re supposed to be a tub full of rainbows and sunshine while you gush about your love for James.”

I groaned against my pillow. “Ugh, don’t remind me of Potter!”

I never understood what it felt like to think about a single boy non-stop. I was never in love, and I will never be in love—on my own terms, that is. This silly little game that Desmond has forced me to play with Potter is not love. It’s mere—oh what’s the word… infatuation. Forced infatuation; nothing more. So you can probably guess my reaction to all these strange feelings and thoughts that I have been overloaded with since yesterday.

I was freaking the fuck out.

“Good afternoon girls!” Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence. Dominique Weasley, the last third that completed me. In other words: my best friend. She walked in carrying a pile of books in her arms, and a cup of steaming liquid in the other.

This is why I loved Dominique so much. She randomly graced me with cups of coffee, just the way I liked it. “Ooo, thank you.” I squealed happily, all thoughts of Potter leaving my mind.

Darn, they just came back.

“They need a new bloody librarian.” She complained. “It took me twenty minutes just to track down this bloody book.” She scowled as she handed me the cup of coffee before she made her way over to Layla, handing her the first book on her pile. “I had to ask Jonathan Elk to find it for me. That boy practically lives in the library… it’s actually really strange.” She set the rest of the dusty books in her arms on her desk under the window.

Layla laughed and set the thin book on her bedside table. “Dom, you need to stop flirting with poor innocent boys so that they can do your dirty work for you.”

After she dropped her bag on top of her trunk situated by the foot of her bed, she turned back to Layla with an outraged look on her face. “I said nothing about flirting with Jonathan!” She exclaimed, clapping a hand to her chest. “I would never do such a thing to a helpless fifth year.”

“Oh c’mon Dom, we all know you did.” I piped after I took a nice long sip of the wonderfully caffeinated drink. “Where’d you touch him this time?” I asked with a smirk on my face.

“Yes, Dom, where’d you touch the poor boy this time, you dirty little slut?” All three of our heads snapped towards the opening door, and I’m almost positive that all three of our eyes narrowed at the sight of the redhead that had just walked in.

Her name was Sylvia Bremmer, a Gryffindor in our year. Ever since we first met in our first year at Hogwarts, she decided that she was too good for the rest of us. She was smart, beautiful and popular—a triple threat that most girls are not lucky enough to be in possession of. For the last seven years, she’s been top of the class and had successfully avoided all kinds of drama that circulated around the castle. It was unfortunate for both her, and us that she had one of the nastiest attitudes I have ever come across.

“Shut your mouth, Bremmer.” Dom growled, glaring at the petite redhead.

The door opened once more, and in came Sylvia’s friend, Janice Wood. She thought that she was the greatest in the world, just because her father is a world-renowned Quidditch star. “Damn, Dom, since when did you get so scary? I’m practically shaking to my bones.” Her voice dripped of sarcasm.

“That’s lovely, Wood. Now, either you shut up and mind your attitude, or leave.” Layla snapped viciously. There was a nasty history between these two girls and Layla—a story that will be left to tell another time.

Sylvia stood by the foot of her bed, glaring at Layla. Nevertheless, she grabbed her belongings, opened a couple of drawers and shut a few cabinets before she left the room with her little minion in tow.

“I hate her.” Dominique said bluntly. “I hate her with such passion.”

Layla rolled her eyes and attempted to compose herself, ridding her mind of all traces of anger. “Anyway, Dom—you’ve been MIA for the past couple of days. Where were you?”

I sensed a long, exaggerated story coming on.

“Blame my little brother and my cousin.”

“James?” I asked.

“No, Freddie.” Dominique answered, giving me a strange look. “They landed themselves a month worth of detentions, and my mother begged me to straighten Louis out. But you know Weasley’s—they never go down easy. I had to track them down the castle, but in order to do that, I needed to track down the map, but I had no idea who had it.” It was amazing how the Marauders Map traveled amongst their family. “But anyway, after settling my business with my darling brother, Slughorn, who I can’t believe is still alive by the way, caught me with Louis hanging about teen feet off the ground upside down, so he gave me detention.”

Layla looked amused. “Don’t tell me you set the trophy room on fire again.”

Dominique shook her head; her blonde curls falling over her face. “Not this time. I was stuck in the potions room with Tyler. He wouldn’t tell me why he got detention. I figured it was because he finally got caught snogging some random girl in a broom closet, but I could never be too sure. You know Tyler, he’s always got something to hide.” She shrugged, and fell back against her pillows. “So tell me, what did I miss?”

At that precise moment, Layla and I exchanged hesitant glances. Gosh darn it, I really did not want to say ‘I love James Potter’ out loud. If I did, it just might make everything more real. “Dom, you’re about to regret refusing James’ offer to join the Quidditch team.” She said, shutting her magazine shut and crawling over to the foot of her bed. She rested her arms against the wooden board situated at the edge of the mattress, and pressed her lips together, in attempt to suppress her upcoming laughter.

“Did James get hit with a bludger?” Dominique asked casually.

Boy, I wish.

Layla shook her head. She glanced at me again, and all I could do was set the coffee cup on my bedside table, and shove my head back against the pillow on my lap.

“Hey guys, I’m kind of waiting over here.”

“Vicky is in love with your cousin!”

There was silence. I raised my head out of curiosity. This was definitely not the reaction I expected from the loud, obnoxious, Dominique Weasley. I expected a huge outburst that would have probably sent both Layla and I flying out of our beds. But instead, there was silence—pure silence. I could hear the Earth revolving around its axis—that’s how quiet it was.

“Who, Freddie?” her voice sounded confused. I looked at her bed, and I found her playing with a lock of curly blonde hair. Yes, that’s right Dom. The most atrocious thing has just happened to me, but you can just lie there and continue playing with your cute curly hair.

“No.” Layla answered.

Dominique’s face contorted into an even more confused expression. “Albus?” she asked.

Did she think I was a cougar, or something of the sort?

“No.” Layla answered again, giving Dominique a look that said ‘Seriously, Dom?’.

“Er… Hugo?”

“Dom, really? Hugo is a third year.”

Dom suddenly stopped playing with her hair, and I could see her eyes growing wide. “No,” she said softly as she finally thought of the only cousin that would be a plausible candidate for me to fancy. “WHAT?! Ja-James?”

Grimly, I nodded with closed eyes.

“Wha—how?” she demanded, suddenly interested in what we had to say. “You… you hate James.”

“Thank you captain obvious.” I scowled, looking back down at my pillow. It looked incredibly appealing—appealing enough for me to burry my head in it, and never come out.

“Then how on Earth did this happen? Merlin, I feel like I just missed a whole thirty years of your life! How did you go from hating my cousin with every bone in your body, to being in love with him?” she exclaimed as she sat up and threw her feet over the side of her bed, leaning closer to me. “Ho—when did this happe—no.” She was smarter than I gave her credit for. As she slowly pieced bits of information together, her face grew pale, and her surprised expression slowly peeled off her face. “Desmond?”

Both Layla and I nodded.

The rest of my lessons went by rather smoothly. Of course, that is if you disregard the little run-in’s I had with Potter in the corridors where I would proceed to profess my undying love for him. It was incredibly embarrassing, and very painful. No, professing my love to someone else was not the painful part. No, the painful part came after, when Potter intrepidly showed his disgust, and simply walked away. Despite my previous hatred and contempt for the boy, believe me when I say, rejection hurts.

The moment my eyes landed on Desmond, he was unlucky enough to not have Potter to distract me with. Lucky for me, he was all the way on the other side of the castle, attending his fifth class of the day. The anger flared within me, and Desmond immediately ducked behind Tyler, whom he had just exited the Charms classroom with, and offered several feeble efforts of apologizing. I attempted to chase Desmond around Tyler, who stood in between us with amusement, but it was no use. Desmond was too fast and agile for me to catch. After our little dance around Tyler, he bolted down the corridor and disappeared around the corner. “Sorry, Vicky!” was the last thing he shouted before Victoria lost sight of him.

Dominique surprisingly took the news rather well. She was incredibly surprised at first, and it took a while for the newly given information to sink in, but regardless, she laughed at the whole matter. I’m not sure why I expected anything different from Dominique. It has always been a dream of hers for either Layla or I to fall in love with James so that she can finally have a family member who wasn’t a complete nutter. Of course, I was a lost cause when it came to any sort of friendly relationship when it came to Potter. So she turned to Layla, who eventually became a lost cause as well once she started to see the blossoming love-hate relationship between her and Desmond. In the end, Dominique was screwed, and disappointed. However, I could tell that this situation I was now in sparked a bit of hope in the poor girl. Let me tell you now, Dom. Once I’m out of this mess, there is no way that I would willingly fall in love with Potter. No freaking way.

I could not believe how sharp of a turn my life has taken in the past thirty-six hours. In less than a minute, I fell in love with the boy who used to sneak live frogs into my dinner when we were younger and more immature. In less than ten minutes, I effectively made a fool out of myself in front of the entire Quidditch team. In less than two minutes, I had given up the sport I loved the most, and it took no more than a word for my heart to be repeatedly broken by the one and only Potter.

While I walked back to the Gryffindor common room after completing my book outside in the courtyard, I flittered through my restless mind, wandering around my thoughts. Similar to Layla, I found that it was, in fact, strange that I was still able to think about Potter’s flaws, and still be ‘in love’ with him. I saw him for what he was—an asshole—and no feeling in the world could ever change that. Is this what love was like? Knowing their flaws, and yet, loving them still? I couldn’t be too sure—I’ve never understood the feeling.

I entered the common room quietly as I fed the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady. There were a couple of students littered around the common room, most of them working on their unfinished homework, while the rest did activities in leisure. My heart jumped once i spotted Potter sitting at a table by the bookshelves on the far left corner of the common room. There was a piece of parchment set in front of him, and he seemed to be bothered.

Hesitantly, I approached him, my legs not allowing me to do anything different. He didn’t seem to notice my presence until I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. My legs jerked forward slightly as I eyed the empty chair beside him, but I decided that it was best for me to keep a reasonable distance. It’s amazing what pain does to young girls like myself; it makes you stronger.

“What’s got you in a strop?” I asked, silently praying that Potter wouldn’t push me away. His face turned hard upon my arrival, and I could tell that he was slightly trying to suppress his annoyance.

My eyes seemed to be glued to his face. His head was bent slightly, and I noticed the flattering angle he was under. His hair was dark and ruffled, giving him a slightly badass look. Although I could not see his eyes, I knew that they were green, just like his fathers. His face structure was defined; chiseled. It was not a wonder why girls swooned at the mere sight of him.

Potter didn’t answer me. There was a small part of me left in my brain that was telling me to pick up my arse and leave the jerk alone. But the arrow spoke louder than my own mind, forcing me to stay put and try to converse with the love of my life. Pft. Love of my life my arse. Potter was anything but.

My eyes settled on the parchment in front of him, and I suddenly realized that I was the sign up sheet for the open Chaser position on the team. I felt a slight pang of pain in my chest upon the realization that he was actually on his way to replacing me. I was being replaced on my own beloved team. How dare he?

“When are try outs?” My voice sounded sweeter than I would have liked.

“Tomorrow.” Potter answered coldly.

I nodded, showing him that I understood. Silence fell between us, and I was reminded of how much I hated awkward moments like these. There was an unnoticeable tension between Potter and I, and it was simply eating me away. I wondered if he felt the same. My question was answered when he shifted slightly in his seat, looking immensely uncomfortable under my presence.

Thanks Potter. That’s rather reassuring.


“You know, James, all you have to do is ask, and I’m back on the team.” I informed him, smiling cheekily. “You know as well as I do that none of these people on this list are nearly as good as I am.”

He scoffed bitterly. “Are you actually asking to be put back on the team?”

“Did I stutter, James?” I asked. “I didn’t ask to be put back. I’m simply offering you a second chance.”

You’re offering me a second chance?” He raised his eyebrows at me, clearly amused. “Don’t make me laugh, Vicky.

I shrugged. “Oh well. Just a simple please would have sufficed. I would have been back on the team, and you wouldn’t have to waste your time watching these amateurs play.”

He laughed bitterly. “Please, we both know that you wouldn’t have accepted a simple please. You wouldn’t be content until I was on my knee’s begging you to come back.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and I noticed his rippling muscles under the thin material of his white school shirt. “Which I won’t do, by the way. Just so you know.”

Tearing my eyes away from his biceps, I looked at him, suddenly feeling serious and emotional. My eyes bore into his for the first time in my entire life. I forced every once of affectionate feelings through my eyes, hoping that he would see just how much I truly (not) loved him. “I would have.” I said softly.

Merlin, what am I doing? I sound like I belong in some sappy drama. Please, let me just die now.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because I love you, James.” I answered bluntly. “And I would do anything for you.”

He abruptly looked as though he was beyond creeped out. He quickly pocketed the parchment, and swiftly stood up from his seat. “You’re bloody insane, Rose.” He snapped.

The arrow went into overdrive and I stood up, instinctively running after him. He bolted for the boys staircase, probably forgetting that I could follow him up the stairs. “James!” I shouted, not willing to let him go just yet (or ever for that matter). “James!” I called again. “No, James, come back!”

Vic! Control yourself! Turn back around and get as far away as you can from Potter!

I couldn’t listen to my own mind. The arrows will was too strong, which explains why I found myself standing in his dormitory, slowly closing the door behind me. If I were in Potter’s shoes at that precise moment, I would be very scared.

“What are you doing, Rose? This is the boys’ dormitory. You don’t belong up here.” He told me coldly.

“I belong with you, James.” I found myself saying, as I began advancing towards him. He was standing close to the foot of his bed, and he slowly began to back up as I drew closer and closer to him. “How many times must I tell you? I love you!”

I rolled his eyes. “Stop it, Victoria! You’re crazy!” he collided with his bedpost, causing him to slightly change direction.

“I’m crazy for you.”

I just learned an incredibly amusing way of pushing James Potter’s buttons. Pretend that you’re in love with him, and corner him against his bed until he bursts. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find this as amusing as I would in any other situation since I have the heavier end of the stick.

“Stop!” he shouted. His eyes widened slightly as he felt the back of his knees reach the edge of his bed. “Victoria, I’m bloody serious. Stop it!”

“I’m afraid I can’t, James.” Now that was me—not the arrow.

I reached out, and on instinct, Potter leaned back and in result, he fell back against his unnamed bed. I smirked, and leaned forward. “This is actually rather fun.”

I didn’t know what came over me. I’m almost positive that it was the arrow’s doing, but a little part of me wanted to see how far Potter could go until he fell over the edge. I wanted to see how much he could take of me pushing his buttons before he bursts. So I placed my left knee against the bed beside his right, and I brought my leg over his body, resting it against the mattress beside his left. I partially straddled Potter, not actually pressing my body against his, but close enough so that I could feel the materials of our uniforms grazing against one another.

A smirk played on my lips once again once I noticed the expression on his face. He looked angry and nervous all at the same time. I saw that mask of anger and annoyance Potter always held around others, but at the same time, I saw what lied beneath the surface, which was a mixture of confusion, fear, and nervousness. “You don’t have to be afraid around me, James.” I told him softly as the smirk was drained from my face. “I’m harmless.”

As I looked down at him, I thought of the many different situations we could have fallen into in this position. We could have been snogging. Or wrestling. Or snogging. Or … snogging. I myself, found this incredibly uncomfortable as I tried my best not to touch Potter in any area of his body, particularly the part that I was hovering dangerously close to. Who knows what could happen if I planted myself—er—there…

“Get off me.” He demanded. “Annoying little bint.”

“Hm, I don’t think so.” I replied playfully.

I came to the conclusion that I rather liked Potter at this angle.

“Get off me, Rose.” He demanded again, as if asking twice would make a difference, when in fact, it’s a waste of breath. “Get off me.”

I shook my head, and my blonde hair fell from my shoulder and lightly brushed the tip of his nose. “Nope.” I smiled widely.

“Get off me.”

“Say please, James.”

“Get off me.”

I sighed. “You know, stubbornness won’t really get you anywhere.”

“You think I’m stubborn?” I suddenly felt like he hasn’t been listening to a single word I’ve said to him since we were eleven.

I nodded. “I think you’re very stubborn.”

“Then what are you, Vicky?” he questioned. “I suppose you’re anything but stubborn.”

He looked surprised when I shook my head. “Nope. You see, James. I’m just like you. We’re both stubborn. So you should know that I won’t move until I get my way.”

“And what is it that you want?” he retorted, his eyes narrowing.

I smiled again. But before I could answer, the heavy door of the seventh year boy’s dormitories swung open. “James? James! Do you have the map?” The familiar voice of Albus Potter caused my eyes to widen into large golf balls.

Me + Potter + Straddling + Albus Potter = involvement of the entire Weasley/Potter clan and my unfortunate demise.

“Ja—Oh, holy mother of Merlin!” Albus exclaimed. I’m guessing that he caught sight of the compromising position Potter and I had gotten ourselves into…

Holy mother of Merlin is correct.

Chapter 3: Booger Facials and Puppy Dog Faces
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Three

Potter and I stared at each other with wide eyes the size of golf balls. His younger brother had just caught us in an incredibly compromising position, which would of course lead to the involvement of the entire Potter/Weasley clan. How, in the name of Merlin, do I manage to get myself in situations like these?

Oh yeah. I have a best friend who’s a cupid, the bane of my existence is the one and only James Potter II, and one of my best girlfriends is Dominique Weasley. That’s how.

One I finally regained full control of my own body, I immediately jumped about five feet away from Potter. I ended up awkwardly standing by the foot of his bed, while Potter, being the repugnantly imperturbable guy that he is, simply sat up and ran his hand through his hair.

How the bloody hell could he be so nonchalant about everything?

Both his and my life is about to go to shit, and he’s simply sitting there, ruffling his bloody annoyingly perfect hair.

Well.. it does look incredibly soft… Damn, I just want to run my hands through it. It’s sticking out at odd angles as usual, but as I focused my eyes on his unruly hair, I couldn’t help but notice how it made him look even more attractive..

What the shit.

I find it incredibly strange that I can completely go off on such a large tangent, completely forgetting about how mortified I should feel at the moment.

While I was being the little love sick idiot that I was, imagining running my fingers through Potter’s seemingly soft hair, the other Potter stared at us with bewilderment. “Wha—ho—hang o—no—whe—I thought you two hated each other!” he stuttered as he pointed at both Potter and I with his forefinger. “Oh my Merlin! Lily won’t believe this!” before I could even stop him with my amazing Quidditch reflexes, Albus ran out of the seventh year boys’ dormitories and disappeared down the stairs.

I stupidly pointed to his retreating figure, while my head slowly turned towards Potter. “Is—is he really going to tell Lily?”

Potter scowled, completely ignoring my question. He sat up and quickly followed Albus out the door and down the stairs into the common room. I was left standing alone in the middle of his dormitory, staring blankly at the empty space of the doorway. It took about thirty seconds for me to realize how stupid I was for simply standing in an empty dormitory.

I quickly ran down the staircase and into the common room where I found Potter hovering over his siblings who were perched on an armchair by the fireplace. I slowly approached the Potters, slightly afraid of the information Albus had already divulged to his younger sister. With each step, I watched Lily’s face turn from indifferent to completely surprised and giddy. She began squealing behind the hardcover book in her hand as she looked from Albus to James and back to Albus. Once I cam into view, her eyes widened even more, along with the grin that spread across her face.

“What is wrong with you, you bloody wanker?” Potter demanded, glaring at Albus. “You’re like a little girl, running to your littler sister with new gossip!”

I almost laughed.

“Why so secretive, James?” Albus teased back, grinning from ear to ear.

While the siblings continued to argue, all I could do was stand by Potters’ side awkwardly, not knowing what to say at all. “Er—“ I attempted, but no one bothered to pay attention. “Uh, guys?” I was still ignored.

“Hey Lils, Albus, James; how goes it?” Oh yeah, pay attention to Hugo when he comes by, but not me? I see how it is. Just because I’m not a Potter or a Weasley, the things I have to say is just completely irrelevant when it comes to arguments such as these.

“James and Vicky are finally dating!” Lily exclaimed, pointing to both Potter and I. “After years, they’re finally together!” she squealed excitedly. “Albus just found them snogging in his dorm!”

We were not snogging!

“We were not snogging!” I cried indignantly. No matter how much I wanted to opposite to be true, there was still a little bit of myself left in my brain, and that little part was enough for me to tell Lily the truth before it spread even further.

Hugo’s eyes widened as they shifted back and forth, from Potter and then back to me. “No freaking way!” he exclaimed with such excitement and galore, that I might have just puked on the spot if it were not for the arrow stuck to my arse feeding me lies about my own feelings for Potter.

“What’s going on?” Louis Weasley approached the little circle that was a small portion of his family, probably sensing that there was something interesting going on between his cousins. “Sup, Hugh?” he asked, accompanied with a Louis-like head-nod.

“James and Vicky are dating!” Hugo exclaimed, informing Louis of the little lie that seemed to have put all these children on their toes.

Since when were little fourth years interested in their older cousins’ relationship status?

Not that he’s in a relationship or anything...

Not that I want to be in a relationship with him.. No, definitely not!

“No, Hugo!” I interjected before Louis could say anything more. I felt my anger sky rocketing. “We’re n—n—n—no—not da—ating!”

Seriously? This arrow isn’t even letting me tell the truth?

This is ridiculous.

“Look at Vicky all shy, trying to hide it.” Lily cooed, as if she were speaking to a baby of mere months.

I turned towards Potter for the second time, and noticed that he seemed to have given up in trying to defend his nonexistent relationship status like I had expected him to. Instead, I simply saw that he hand left my side and had taken refuge on the red, velvet couch placed about five feet away. His elbows were propped up on his knees, and his face was buried in the depths of his palms. It seemed as though he felt that attempting to convince his family otherwise was a lost cause.

“What’s Vicky trying to hide?” Dom appeared on my left side. I almost jumped out of my own shoes when I saw her. Her blonde hair was wrapped around several large curlers, and there was a thick layer of green gunk spread across her face, steering clear of her eyes and lips.

“Dom, what the hell have you been doing?” I asked, completely forgetting about my Potter problems.

She gave me an expression that I couldn’t exactly decipher, probably because the green gunk that she applied on her face had hardened to the point where she could no longer move any part of her face properly. “I haf a date, remember?”

I stared at her for a good ten seconds, and so did the rest of her family. “Whut?”

I shook my head, and turned back to Lily. “Lily—er, guys. Po—Pot—James and I are not da—“

“What?!” Dominique exclaimed, grabbing my arm.

Her outburst surprised me as her loud voice blared through my ear. “You’re dating my cousin?!” she screeched. I looked at her face, and noticed that the green mask had cracked in several places because of her sudden outburst and change in facial expression.

The common room went quiet. Dead quiet.

I could hear the fly zooming around my head.

Gee, thanks Dom.

Several faces turned towards our little powwow in the middle of the common room, and all we could do was stare back. I felt like a tiny bug under a gigantic microscope.

“What are you all looking at?” Dom barked sourly. The rest of the Gryffindors immediately turned their heads back to their laps, resuming their previous conversations or focusing on their unfinished homework. Whatever the did, they continued to tune us out, probably afraid that Dominique was going to eat them or something.

Now that I think of it, half of these people—the boys mainly—could just be staring at Dominique and her cracked, green face.

“Dom,” Louis spoke up, breaking the silence as he stared at his sister. “Have you no shame?” he asked incredulously. “How could you just come down looking like that?”

Dom rolled her eyes. “Honestly, its as if none of you have seen a girl with a facial mask on her face.”

Louis rolled his eyes, and leaned against the back of the armchair Lily was sitting on. “That’s no reason for you to parade around the common room like that! Merlin Dominique, you’re so embarrassing.”

Albus snickered from beside Hugo.

“Wazgoinon?” My attention turned to the approaching voice and I found Fred Weasley walking towards us with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his trousers. His girlfriend, Rhiannon McKenzie trailed behind him with a book opened in her hands. “Rhi, seriously, stop reading while you’re walking. You’re going to damage your eyes.”

“Hehe, look at Freddie being such a sweet boyfriend.” Dom teased, grinning widely.

Fred lifted his gaze and looked at his older cousin. “Jesus Dom!” he exclaimed, holding his hands in front of him in defense. “What’s on your face?”

“Har, har.” Dom bit back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, back to what we were previously discussing.”

“Did it by any chance have to do with why your face looks like a booger?” Fred asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I watched as Rhiannon elbowed him in the ribs, followed by a threatening glare.

Man, this boy was whipped.

“You!” Dom surprised me once more by grasping my arm tightly, and pointing her perfectly polished finger at my face. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do! When were you planning on telling me that you and my cousin were dating?!” she demanded, shaking me slightly.

“Hang on!” Fred exclaimed, his arms unfolding from in front of his chest. “Vicky, you and Albus are dating? I didn’t really take you for a cougar..”

“What?!” Albus exclaimed resentfully. “We are not dating!”

“Who’s not dating?” Oh, Hello Tyler. Perfect timing. I was beginning to think that this little gossip group was short a few heads. Please, feel free to join us while we discuss the fact that I am apparently now taken as a cougar. “Better question. Who is being accused of dating?”

“Then you and Hugo?” Fred asked, his eyes growing wider.

Wow .. these Weasley’s were a bit more thick than I thought.

“Way to ignore me guys.” Tyler pouted, shuffling to the seat next to Potter. “Christ, Dom.” His voice sounded surprised as he caught sight of the blonde standing in front of him.

“Doesn’t she look like a booger?!” Fred cried, hoping to find another person to take his side in the matter.

Tyler chuckled, but didn’t laugh loudly like he normally would. Instead, he cowered back against the couch under Dominique’s glare.

“Mate, she’s almost four years older than I am.” Hugo replied exasperatedly. “And no, it’s not Louis.”

“No.. James?” His jaw dropped down to the red carpet. “But you two—Never in my life have I ever seen you two have a civilized conversation!”

“They were snogging in James’ dorm just now.” Lily informed him.

How many times have I said that we were not snogging?!

“Way to go mate.” Tyler grinned, slapping his hands against Potter’s broad shoulders. “I always knew it would happen some day.”

Am I the only one who has never seen this?!

I looked at Potter, and saw that he was still in the position I had left him in a couple of minutes before. How could he just sit there? How could he not even bother to defend himself against this ridiculous lie?

“You two were snogging?!” Another shriek clawed its way through my ears.

The common room went silent again, and all heads turned towards us. “Mind ya business, nosy sods.” Dominique barked again. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” she asked.

“No Dom—Potter and I are not dating. We were not snogging either.” I answered dryly. “Albus seemed to get the wrong impression when he saw us on—er.. discussing something earlier.”

“Discussing something my arse!” Albus exclaimed. “You were on top of him!”

I suddenly felt heat rise up my neck, filling my cheeks. I discreetly shook my hair closer to my face in attempt to hide the blatant blush that has crept up on me. How could I fight my way out of this one? Albus clearly saw Potter and I on his bed. He clearly saw me straddling Potter. What was I going to tell him? ‘Hey Al, the truth is, Desmond is a Cupid and he shot me with an arrow that made me fall in love with your brother. Now I have no choice but to follow him around hopelessly professing my love over and over again until he accepts me.’

“Dom,” Potter’s voice broke through my thoughts along with the sentence forming on the tip of Dominique’s tongue. “That’s enough.” His voice was surprisingly assertive enough to get Dom to stop in her tracks, and stare at James.

For the first time since this little friendly discussion of ours started, Potter stood up and tightly wrapped his hand around my wrist. He then proceeded to drag me away from his family, and back up the staircase we came from. “Potter, what are you doing?” I asked hastily, trying my best to keep up with his fast legs. His hand was wrapped tightly around my wrist, causing my skin to burn against his. “Po—James!” I exclaimed.

He walked into his dormitory, pulling me inside with him before he shut the door and locked it with a spell. “What did you drag me all the way up here for?” I asked.

“It’s pointless to convince them different.” Potter told me indifferently, running his hands through his hair again as his jaw muscles tightened. His hair.. his face.. how could he be so attractive? ldkjloaksdl. Excuse my minor spaz.

“For years, they’ve been thinking that something’s bound to happen between us. They won’t believe anything different—well, Dom would, but the rest…” he trailed off.

Well.. that was definitely something I wasn’t expected. All Potter and I ever did the past few years was bicker like there was no tomorrow. How could any of the Potters/Weasley’s expect anything more than enemies?

“What are you saying, Potter?”

He smirked bitterly. “Say hello to your new boyfriend.”

Er.. whut?


To clarify a few hazy aspects of my now incredibly fake relationship with Potter: neither of us wanted it. Desmonds arrow may have wanted us to be in some sort of doomed-from-the-start relationship, but not me—no, definitely not me. This boy is the bane of my freaking existence. I hate him—no, scratch that. I abhor him, with every single bone in my body.

Which is why it was incredibly unfortunate that I am not able to express my hate for this boy, all because of a certain Cupid sitting across the table, within arms reach. That means if I reach over just a little bit, I could shatter his nose with my fist.

If only.

“Why hello Dominique, where’s your little mask of horror this morning?” Tyler asked nonchalantly as poured pumpkin juice into his goblet.

“Shut it, Ty.” Dom snapped viciously, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “I’m so not in the mood right now.”

Tyler stared at her for about ten seconds, while the rest of us simply waited for an outburst. “Dom,” Tyler began seriously, staring at her straight in the eye.

“What?” she snarled without looking up from her cup of coffee.

“Are you pmsing?” he whispered, loud enough for the four of us to hear.

“Idiot.” Desmond muttered under his breath.

“What?” Dominique asked in a low, daring tone.

Tyler glanced down at his food, but shifted his gaze back to her scrunched up-with-anger face. “Are, you, pmsing? You know, that one week of the month where girls get their.. you know.”

“Yes, I know what pmsing is, Tyler.” She retorted snappishly. “You know what, I find it incredibly disgusting how men always assume that girls are on the period whenever we’re angry. Did any of you boys ever stop and think ‘Nah, she’s not on her period, maybe I just pissed her off’.” And with that, Dom grabbed her bag and stormed out of the Great Hall in a huff.

Tyler then proceeded to turn to Layla expectantly, as if waiting for an answer.

Layla didn’t notice until about five-ten seconds later, until she sighed and reached for the pumpkin juice sitting in front of Tyler. “No, Ty, she’s not on her period. She’s just had a rough night.”

“What happened to her?” he asked, pressing closer against the edge of the table.

I’ve never seen a boy so excited for information about a girls’ life.

“Why are you so interested, Tyler?” Layla asked, smirking as she leaned closer against the table as well. “Are you—dare I say—worried about Dominique?”

Tyler scoffed in a manish way, and recomposed his posture. “Don’t make me laugh, Layla. I was simply curious.”

She nodded, but the mischievous smile on her face told us different. “Anyway, I advise you three to steer clear of Dom today, or at least be nice to her when you come across her.”

“Yes ma’am.” Desmond replied.

I flickered my gaze towards Potter who had surprisingly remained quiet for the entire conversation. He was slowly shoveling large amounts of food into his mouth while he occasionally took a sip or two from his pumpkin juice, before he continued his love affair with the silver fork in his hand.

I watched as his jaw tightened when he chewed. I stared at him for a while as I attempted to venture a guess on what he was thinking—what was hidden behind the blank expression on his face. He seemed to have felt my eyes on his, which would explain why he raised his gaze from his plate, and shifted it in my direction.

Well.. isn’t this awkward.

I quickly shifted my gaze and continued eating my breakfast, as if it was what I have been doing this entire time. Potter did the same, and we were both back to square one: sitting in our own awkwardness.

I wasn’t surprised that news about Potter and I spread like wildfire. In between last night’s events and this mornings’ breakfast, almost every single student in the castle has heard that James Potter and I were now officially dating. Hell, I’m pretty sure that even the Professors heard the oh-so-lovely news before they even reached their seats on the staff table. Several girls were huddled up together on all four tables, gossiping relentlessly about the latest who’s-dating-who, and other garbage that the rest of the bleeding world could care less about. Honestly, I never cared much for gossip, even if they were about me. I could easily deal with girls whispering in each other’s ear about how I woke up stark naked in the middle of the common room after a wild party the night before, where I most likely ended up sleeping with a random boy (which is a horrendous lie, by the way). But this time—no, you see this time; the rumors were not just about me. They were about Potter AND me. Emphasis on the ‘and’.

The sound of owls hooting brought my attention away from James and towards the ceiling. I watched as the owls swooped through, carrying letters or various packages in their beaks. However, once I realized what I was doing, I quickly turned my head away from the owls, feeling silly for suddenly realizing that there was a small sliver of hope in my chest that I would receive a letter from my family, or at least one from my sister.

Ever since I’ve become of age, my parents hadn’t bothered to contact me at all, which would explain my surprise once an owl dropped a letter on my plate, entirely covering my breakfast. However, as I stared at the enveloped, I noticed the Potter seal stamped on the opening, and my heart immediately sank. “Er,”

Before I could even pick up the letter, Potter snatched it from my plate. “That ruddy bird is useless.” He muttered under his breath, as he ripped the envelope open.

Even owls have the capability to fool me.

How bloody perfect.

His eyes scanned the letter, and his eyes slowly widened with each passing word. “LILY!” My heart literally jumped right out of my chest as his voice boomed through the Great Hall while he frantically searched for his younger sister. “LILY! Get your arse here right now!”

Several heads turned our way, and the majority of the chatter in the Great Hall had dissipated upon Potters outburst.

“What does the letter say?” Desmond asked curiously, snatching the letter right out of Potters’ hands.

While he quickly skimmed through the letter, Lily grudgingly approached her brother. I could tell that she was not a morning person. Her hair was slightly tousled and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her hand was currently buried in her mess of red hair as she scratched her head absentmindedly, possibly to try to find out why she was in the Great Hall so early in the morning. “What?” she spat with great annoyance hinted in her voice.

“How many times must I tell you to keep your nose out of my bloody business? At least have the decency to refrain from telling mum!” he snapped through gritted teeth.

Lily blinked several times. “What on earth are you talking about James?” she asked groggily.

“I’m talking about mum’s letter, you little bint!” Potter snatched the letter back from Dominique’s hand, and shoved it into Lily’s face. “Explain this!”

It was then that I realized that Dominique was trying her best not to burst out into fits of laughter. I was suddenly extremely curious as to what was written in that letter…

Potter waited until a smirk appeared on Lily’s face till he grabbed the letter out of her hands and shoved it deep into the pockets of his trousers. “It’s bad enough that the blasted rumor is going around school. I don’t need mum and dad knowing about it as well!” he bellowed, flailing his arms around wildly.

Sigh. Potter was so… oddly sexy when he was angry.

The way his nose flared in such a cute manner; the way his ears would turn into a deep shade of red. The way his eyes would fire with anger—it was just all so… appealing, so attractive.

“Dear brother, are you still going on about that whole rumor bit?” Lily asked, running her hands through her hair. The infamous Potter smirk played on her lips as she stared down at James who was still seated on the bench in front of me.

The five of us watched the two siblings bicker for about ten minutes before Tyler finally cut in.

“Would any of you three mind telling us what the bloody hell was written in that letter?” he demanded, huffing slightly.

Dear Merlin. The rest of us stared, dumbfounded that this seventeen year old boy could be so incredibly oblivious.

“Mate.” Desmond began with a sympathetic look on his face. “You really need to start paying more attention.”

“You’re going to fix this, Lily!” Potter exclaimed as he completely ignored Tyler’s remark. “Owl mum right now and tell her that you’re an insane, compulsive liar!”

“I’ve got nothing to fix, big brother. Now if you’d excuse me, my breakfast is waiting for me.” Her red hair twirled behind her as she swiftly turned and walked down the aisle, back to where she was sitting with the rest of her Gryffindor friends.

“What the hell was that all about?” Tyler asked on the immediate moment that Potter exasperatedly turned back to us. “What’d your mum write?” he pressed further.

Yes Potter, enlighten us all. What did ol’Miss Potter write?

Potter scowled.



Excuse my spaz. Hehe.

“Lily, being the darling sister that she is, told her that Victoria and I are now dating. Mum expects her in the Manor for Christmas.”

Desmond cracked a grin.

I couldn’t help but crack one too.

The mother of the boy I’m currently in love with wants me over for the Holidays. Which means that I would get to spend more time with James! I love the tosser. Sue me.

Dear James,
I must say that I am rather disappointed that I heard about your new girlfriend from your sister. Your father and I have been anticipating this for a while, and it should have been you who first informed us. Nevertheless, even though we’ve already met Victoria several times, I expect you to bring her over for the Winter Holidays so that your father and I can formally meet her. You may bring the rest of your friends over as well, even though I know that you are already planning to with or without my consent. Oh this is so exciting! Finally, you and Victoria are dating! After years, and years of arguing, it has finally happened! My baby boy is all grown up! You best treat her right James. You won’t ever find another girl who’s as perfect for you as Victoria.
By the way, tell your brother that your father is raging mad that he stole his old broomstick, and tell Dominique that I found her missing rag doll hidden behind the couch in the attic. Give your cousins my love, and please keep your brother and sister out of trouble.

Love, Mum.

P.S. I’m buying you a new owl.

“Hey, look at the bright side.” Tyler said, grinning down at the letter as he read it over Desmonds’ shoulder. “At least you won’t have to worry about your parents liking your new girlfriend.”

He smiled.

So did I.

“Party at the Potters!” Tyler shouted, followed by a loud ‘whoop’.

Ugh, I barely survived the last Potter/Weasley party. The morning after I found myself sleeping behind a set of heavy curtains with my purse filled with puke, not to mention about forty-seven hickeys covering my entire body. I still have absolutely no memory of what happened the night before.



All heads turned to the back of the classroom where Alyssa Stone flailed her arms around wildly. I don’t see how flailing one’s arms around wildly would help put out the fire that has accumulated in one’s brow. But hey, if she thinks it will do the trick.

“Miss Stone!” Professor Slughorn boomed from the front of the class. “How many times have I told you not to experiment on your potions? To the Hospital Wing!”

The universe must love me today. Guess who is now partner-less.

That’s right. Potter.

Guess who is in need of a partner.

Yeah. Me.

“Mr. Potter, go work with Miss. Rose.” Slughorn instructed as he pointed to where I sat.

The entire class made a serious of ‘ooo’s’ and ‘aahs’. Seriously guys, what are we, five?

Nevertheless, I slumped over the table and began banging my head against the wooden desk. “Fuck my life.” I muttered quietly to myself. “Fuck my life. Fuck my life. Fuck my life. Fuck my life. Fuck my life. Fuck my life. Fuck m—”

“Where’s your partner?”

I immediately sat up in an upright position, and my eyes instantly landed on Potter. He was already sitting on the seat behind me, lounging back in his chair. His arms were folded behind his head, and his feet were propped up against the surface of the desk. How could he look so good without even trying…

“He—er—he’s in the hospital wing. No one knows what happened to him.” I answered with a stutter. “I think he’s slightly embarrassed to tell people what really happened.”

Potter smirked suspiciously.

“You wouldn’t have anything to do with it.. would you?”

He didn’t answer, he merely smirked. He smirks. The arsehole smirks. Is that all he knows how to do? To smirk?

But Merlin, he looks hot doing it.

“Shouldn’t you get started on our potion?” the smirk was wiped from his face, replaced with a demanding look as he stared at me expectantly.

I stared right back at him. “Don’t you mean, shouldn’t we get started on our potion?”

“You’re better at potions than I am.”

“We’re still partners, Potter. And partners work together in order to get the work done.” I snapped.

“I’m well aware of what partners do, Vicky.” He told me exasperatedly.

“Then why are you still on your arse, James?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He was suddenly on his feet, towering over me. Abruptly, i found him standing incredibly close to me, and it was only then that I noticed how he has been taken slow, steady steps in my direction. Upon instinct, I took a step back, hitting the edge of the table.

It was difficult to decipher the look in the depths of Potters’ eyes. Was it curiosity? No—was it.. desire?

Haha I almost made myself laugh with that one.

He continued advancing towards me, his green eyes never once leaving mine. Eventually, his hands came in contact with the edge of the desk, and I found myself trapped in between his arms. “Is this better, Vicky?”

His face seemed to be inching closer and closer. Soon enough, I would be able to feel his breath on my face. Just a little more…

My heart was bounding so loudly, to the point where it was the only sound that filled my ears. Half of my body was itching to shove him away, and to stick his fat head up his own arse, while the other half, waned him to close the gap in between our bodies.

“Potter! Rose!” Slughorn exclaimed from the front of the room. “Back to your potion!”

To my surprise, Potter smirked before he pushed himself away and began walking towards the storage cabinet.

Curse that Potter.


“Vicky,” Desmond whined, tugging at my arm. “Pretty please with a sugar quill on top?”

I rolled my eyes at his childishness. “No, Des.” I told him sternly as I tried my best to focus on the book opened on my lap.

“Please,” He whined relentlessly. “Please, please, please, pretty please? I’ll do your homework for a month.”

“Des, you barely do your own homework.” I informed him.

“Yes, but I would do yours if you do this small, itsy-bitsy favor for me.” He grinned cheekily as he pressed both his hands together in a pleading manner. “Please, Vicky, please, please, please, please, please.”

I sighed exasperatedly and shut my book, ready to give Desmond a full blown lecture on how bloody annoying he could be. I loved this boy to death, but sometimes he needed to know when to shut that gigantic hole in the middle of his face. For the past fifteen-minutes, he has been begging me to rejoin the Quidditch team and put the rest of the out of their misery.

I turned towards him, and realized that he had put on his infamous puppy dog look. “Ugh, Des.” I groaned, looking away from the cuteness. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he questioned, his tone pure of innocence.

I focused my eyes on the amateur chasers flying around, trying to get the quaffle into one of the three hoops on either side of the Pitch. Potter was hovering around the left side of the pitch, over the tallest hoops. I was not able to see his face, but by his body motions, I could tell that he was not happy.

“C’mon Vicky,” Des continued, tugging on my arm lightly. However, this time, there was something genuine in his voice. “Look at the poor bloke.” He said, turning towards the pitch. “We’ve got a game coming up, and none of these chasers have made a goal in the past twenty minutes. Dom still won’t join, but even so—you’re still better than she is.”

“They’re not entirely terrible…” I trailed off, trying to find a chaser that showed even an ounce of prominent skill. “Look! Number fourteen was close enough to make a goal. Peter’s keeping skills have just improved over time.”

I caught Desmond rolling his eyes. “Please.” He scoffed. “We both know that Peter isn’t that great at keeping. We’re basically relying on the offense of the chasers and the defense of the beaters and chasers to win the game. It’s not much, but we do have James, the best seeker in Hogwarts.”

I sighed, and turned back to tryouts. Tyler and Fred were hitting around a bludger as they lazily zoomed around the pitch as if they were playing a game of catch. Layla was aiding the newbie’s around the pitch, playing along with them. Well, she was basically playing on a one man team, considering how terrible the other players were. They could barely stay on their own broomsticks.

“You can’t seriously leave us with one of those players.” Des said.

I growled, getting annoyed. “Shouldn’t you be over there, helping Layla out? She’s basically playing by herself.”

He shrugged. “Nah.” He said, lounging back against the bleachers. “Maybe if they had a bit skill, maybe. Layla can handle this. Besides, James sent me up he—“ Desmond suddenly stopped in his tracks as his eyes widened. “Er—He sent me up here because I was pestering him about having a new girlfriend. He didn’t want me bothering him while he held tryouts.”

I stared at Desmond. “Smooth.” I commented. “Real smooth.”

So, either I swallow my pride and save my team from further embarrassment, or I sit back and watch them flounder. Why does everything have to be so hard?



Fine. Ugh. I hate my life.

“Looks like I have to do everything around here.” I muttered under my breath as I stood up and reached for Desmonds broomstick.

“Oi!” Desmond exclaimed. “Where are you going?”

I ignored him and mounted his broomstick before kicking off the stands and making my way towards Potter. It was amazing to feel the wind through my hair. For the first time since I was forced to fall in love with Potter, I felt free. I felt that there was nothing pushing me to feel a certain way about anyone, and it felt bloody amazing.

But of course, Potter’s extremely large head had to ruin it.

The fluttering feeling in my stomach took me off guard as I neared Potter. The last time I felt butterflies in my stomach was the first time I took off on my broomstick when I was eleven years old. Now, I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling, no matter how much I swooped up and down on Desmond’s boom.

“Hey,” was the only thing I could think of saying once I approached Potter. My mind seemed to have jumbled itself up into tight knots, and my stomach felt as though I was about to barf up everything I ate for breakfast. I swallowed several times, hoping that it would remove the horrid feeling of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. God, I wanted to barf. This was sickening. The feeling of loving someone was sickening. I take one look at Potter, and I suddenly feel like I would just in front of a Cruciatus curse for him. This is definitely not normal. People in love are mad. Bloody fucking mad. “How are try outs going?”

He sighed heavily, and ran his hand through his hair. “Wonderful.” Potter replied with scorn. He turned around to face me, and that was the first time I noticed how badly stress was wearing him down. “Just bloody great. What happened to all the Quidditch Players in the world?” he said, muttering the last part to himself.

“I have a deal for you.” I offered, ignoring the rapid increase of my heartbeat. He ignored me. Of course he ignored me. Arseholes ignore me. And Potter classifies as an arsehole. “It’s in your best interest to at least listen to me, Potter.” I snapped.

Finally, he sighed and turned around. “What?” Potter demanded. “What could you possibly offer me at this point?”

I glared at him, but nevertheless, I attempted to control my anger, stuffing it back down my throat. “I’ll come back to the team.”


“You heard me.” I said. “I’ll come back to the team.”

He stared at me for a while before saying, “Where does your little deal play in?”

“I’ll come back to the team, IF,” I paused and looked at him. Honestly, when I jumped off the bleachers on Desmond’s broomstick, I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t have a plan when I decided to fly over to Potter and offer a deal. I was a crazy woman on a broomstick with an arrow from a Cupid stuck up my arse, and it was that arrow that compelled me to say the next few words. “You go on a date with me.”

Holy shit, what the fuck?


“W—what?” he sputtered.

“Go on a date with me, and I’ll re-join the team.”

A/N: it took me a while, but here's the next chapter :)

please review guys!

love, gryffindorgirl.

Chapter 4: Ravenclaw Girls and Snogging Closets
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Three
James Potter

Never in a million years, did I ever expect myself to ever admit that I had actually sank to the point where I found myself thinking about how much I missed Victoria Rose. Hold the bucketful of squeals and giggles. I meant the old Victoria Rose—you know, the girl who was never afraid to put me in my place, the girl who would constantly treat me like the dirt she walks on. I missed that Victoria, not this disgusting, nauseating—and not to mention, incredibly annoying—Victoria Rose, that has been lovesick to her stomach, chasing me around with her heart dangling on the hem of her sleeve. It was difficult to believe that about a couple of days ago, I believed that she could not et any more annoying than she already was. Unfortunately, I was wrong. her pool of annoyingness has just increased tenfold, and I was currently drowning in it.

Not long ago, all there was to deal with was her incessantly loud voice, her obnoxious attitude, and the side of her that screams ‘I’M A TOTAL BITCH, AY WASSAP!’. But now, thanks to Desmond—oh yeah, thank Desmond for everything—I had to deal with a semi-nice/generous/sweet/(and dare I say) Cute Victoria. Sure, there were times when she was herself—and believe me, those were the times that I cherished the most during the day—but those times were rare, and unfortunately, limited. For about 98% of the time, she was this unfamiliar, lovesick, teenage girl that I wanted to strangle until she died.

But of course, I wouldn’t do that. Why? Because Desmond will end up shooting about fifty arrows up my arse. As annoying as this girl may be, I’d rather deal with her than trying to deal with fifty arrows from a Cupid.

BUT MERLIN’S FUCKING BEARD. I was going crazy. When I say crazy, I mean cray-zee. I was going insane. I didn’t even like her. We weren’t even friends—No. Scratch that. We weren’t even acquaintances. I’ve been around her for six years, and I still haven’t gotten around to actually liking her. If I haven’t even come close to liking her after six years, I doubt that I would ever fall in love with her. Ever.

Fuck, we’re going to be in this little predicament forever.

How could I ever bring myself to like a girl like that? She’s vile, rude, selfish, obnoxious and self-centered—everything that I didn’t want in a girl. She never gives up the opportunity to strike a heated argument, and she sabotaged our upcoming game! When you mess with Quidditch, you cross the line.

Now, I’m left dealing with Quidditch tryouts to fill the spot that she successfully left open for a bunch of amateurs to replace. What the bloody hell was she thinking? Leaving the team? We were about loyalty. We were Gryffindors for god sakes. Loyalty was our M.O. No one abandons the team, especially over some stupid, petty argument. We’ve had several arguments in the past, most of which was more rocky than the last. She was being over dramatic when she decided to quit the team. I bloody hate how overdramatic girls are. Dudes are just so chill. Whatever happened to girls?

Fuck it. Everyone knows that without Vic, the Chaser Trio would be weaker than ever. Desmond was skilled, and so was Layla, sure. But unfortunately, without Victoria, they were screwed. There would be a flaw in the entire game plan, not to mention a colossal gap in the game, even with a replacement chaser. Our entire game would be on the shoulders of our defense players, and our offense would be entirely too weak.

What was she thinking? I may not know much about Victoria Rose, but the one thing I knew for certain was her intense love for Quidditch. Which I why I don’t get why she was letting this happen. Well I guess we could all put the blame on her pride.

Alright. Fine.

My pride plays a small teeny role in this little situation as well.

Fine, my pride is just as large as hers.

Sue us. We’re prideful people.

But that doesn’t mean, that she should allow our team to fall into a deep pile of our own shit!

As I watched the horrible players—minus Layla who Desmond managed to ditch sometime in the last twenty minutes—throw the quaffle around in their pathetic little formation, I heard a voice pierce through my thoughts. “Hey,”

I think this is the only time she has ever said hello to me without sounding sarcastic, demanding, threatening or downright repulsed.

“How are try outs going?” she asked.

Well, obviously, it’s wonderful, because I’ve got tons of amazing skilled chasers lined up to be on the team.

I sighed heavily, and out of impulse, I ran my hand through my hair. “Wonderful.” I snapped. I turned to face her, and for once, she faced me with a look that somehow told me that this little act that I thought was a façade, was more genuine than I thought. I looked away quickly, realizing that I had been staring at her for more than I would’ve normally liked. “Just bloody great.” I found myself saying. “What happened to all the Quidditch Players in the world?” I muttered.

“I have a deal for you.” She began. I fought the urge to turn my attention towards her, and instead, I focused on the players who were recklessly flying back and forth across the field. “It’s in your best interest to at least listen to me, Potter.” She snapped.

And there she goes. That’s my old Vicky, the one I hate and miss. I turned to face her, forcing the smirk off my face. “What?” I pushed a demanding voice through my throat. I need to keep up appearances! “What could you possibly offer me at this point?”

She glared at me. I never thought that I would ever feel happiness after receiving one of Vic’s infamous glares. “I’ll come back to the team.”

Am I dreaming? Is she really going to be the first to wave the white flag?

“What?” I sputtered.

“You heard me.” She said. “I’ll come back to the team.”

I stared at her for a while, not able to believe what she was saying. “Where does your little deal play in?” I asked.

“I’ll come back to the team, IF,” she paused, her eyes boring into mine. To be honest, I was slightly scared to hear the next few words that were about to leave her mouth. “You go on a date with me.”

I glared at him, nevertheless, I attempted to control my anger, stuffing it back down my throat. “I’ll come back to the team.”

“W—what?” I sputtered once again, with pure and far from minimal disbelief.

“Go on a date with me, and I’ll re-join the team.” She repeated.

I think my jaw just dropped a hundred feet since I suddenly felt the bottom of my chin rubbing against the sand of the pitch. “A date.” I repeated.

“Yes, Potter.” She growled. “Did you acquire brain damage between breakfast and now?” I grinned slightly, unable to help myself. “Stop grinning like that, Potter. Are you up for the deal or not?”

I clicked my tongue, surprised by her rapid change in attitude, going from civil and acceptable to unpleasant and distasteful. “Vicky, you’re the one who proposed this little deal. What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

She rolled her eyes and scowled. “Shut it Potter.” she retorted brusquely. “It’s not like I could help it.” I heard her mutter under her breath. “Is this you agreeing?” she asked.

I suddenly looked away, fully realizing what she was asking of me. Re-filling the open chaser position, which saves our team from falling on our own asses, or going on a date with a girl shot by Cupid, and forced to fall in love with me. Being eaten alive by the giant squid, or being torn apart by a thestral I can’t see? Drown, or burn?

Why does life have to be so hard? Merlin, why do you hate me so much? I’m the son of Harry Freaking Potter. I should be graced with a wonderful life, you know, since my dad saved the world and all that.

“Now this is a sight you don’t see every day.” I lifted my gaze and found Fred hovering in front of Victoria and I with a large smirk printed on his lips. “Aren’t you two the cutest couple ever.”

I glared at him. “Fred, you sound like a thirteen year old girl. Get back to the game.”

He scoffed. “This is barely a game. Besides, Tyler already put the bludgers away. We got bored.”

“Then go find something else to do!” I snapped.

Fred smirked. “I see. You two want to be alone. You could have just said so in the first place, el capitan.”

Before I could even move more than two feet, Fred was already zooming towards the opposite direction. That cousin of mine seriously knew how to get himself in very dangerous situations.

How dare he call us cute.

How dare he aid in spreading this annoying rumor around the entire school.

“Well, Potter?”

I almost forgot she was here.

I didn’t give her an immediate answer. Instead, I ignored both her proposal and presence for a moment or two and began planning Quidditch plays in my head. I began brainstorming, trying to think of any plausible strategy; one that does not include Victoria. About twenty different plays worked itself out in my head, but none of them were close to being enough. Desmond and Layla were not strong as a duo. Desmond did his job as main defense while Layla and Vic quickly weaved their way across the pitch and towards the hoops. No one was quick enough. Fuck.

I had no other choice. Either we sink or swim.

“I’ll think about it.” Yeah, that’s right James. Don’t give her what she wants when she wants it. Make her work for it. You know. Just like how she made you work to get your entire bloody team back on their own two feet. “I’ll let you know.”

She stared at me. “You’ll let me know.” She repeated dully. “Wow, Potter. I didn’t think that you would risk the structure of your team for your abnormally large amount of pride.”

I ignored her. Her words dug through my skin, creating a perfect, thin layer right beneath it. Merlin, I wanted to strangle her sometimes. She thought she knew everything—everything in the whole bloody world. This wasn’t just a matter of pride!

Well.. Okay maybe it was. Just a little bit.

But that is irrelevant! Completely and indubitably irrelevant.

Back to my little dilemma.

My entire team was currently going to shit, so what other choice did I have? I need to take one for the team. I need to be the best captain I can be. If that means that I have to make sacrifices, then so be it. Consider this my biggest. Sacrifice. Ever.

Before I could change my mind, I pulled my wand from my Quidditch boot and pointed it to my throat. “Sonorous.” I muttered. “Tryouts are over. Thank you for attending, everyone, I shall post up the results in the notice board in the common room by tomorrow afternoon, after lunch. You’re all dismissed.”

Regretfully, I slowly turned to Victoria and found her smiling brightly in my direction. Great, the psycho Victoria is back. I never knew girls in love were so crazy. “Don’t get so excited, Rose.” I told her, turning back to the retreating figures. “I said I’d think about it.”

She continued hovering on her broomstick behind me, and I turned back to ask her why she was still hovering around. I noticed that she was still smiling, and rather widely in fact. She looked like she just won a million galleons…

What was she so happy about? It’s not like I said yes.

The players were dismissed, and they all headed to the locker rooms to change back into their uniforms. Victoria headed back to the stands to pick Desmonds Lazy Arse off the stands, bringing him back down to the ground.

Each of us headed back into the castle and dispersed once we reached the main staircase, still clad in our Quidditch uniforms. We were neither sweaty nor dirty. Hell, we barely moved a muscle. If it wasn’t for our naturally sexy, wind-swept hair, there would have been no plausible sign that we had just came from practice.

At the risk of sounding incredibly vain and conceited, I quite liked strutting around the castle in my Quidditch gear and uniform, with my name plastered right across my shoulder blades. It gives me a sense of pride, despite the fact that every single student in the castle already knew that I was Seeker and Captain of the Gryffindor team.

While we passed the corridor leading to the Ravenclaw common room, Desmond and I passed a group of Ravenclaw girls in our year. There were about five girls clustered into a small circle, each of them had shrugged off their heavy, black robes, leaving on their white cotton blouse and their plaid school skirt. Merlin, this was one of the joys of attending Hogwarts. Girls in Hogwarts Uniforms were undeniably hot. Their skirts fell around mid thigh, and their long, tanned legs were bare, giving both Des and I a lovely view.

They caught our eyes, and almost immediately, a familiar, flirtatious smile crept on their faces. Oh yeah, that’s the power of the Quidditch uniforms and the brooms slung on our shoulders. Girls loved Quidditch players. Especially the Ravenclaw girls. They may look pristine and perfect at first glance, but believe me when I say that they are incredibly frisky creatures. They had the sex appeal of a Slytherin and the playfulness of a Gryffindor, which is what made them so bloody perfect.

I guess there was something attractive about incredibly good-looking boys coming back from Quidditch practice, all worn out and hot. Temperature wise of course. The girls continued smiling, and I met the eyes of a certain blonde whose perfectly curved, plump lips were tinted a deep shade of red.

I returned her little half smirk, half smile, adding a discreet wink in her direction.

What can I say? I’m a sucker for blondes.

And, not to mention, Ravenclaws chicks.

“Ugh, James you’re a pig.”

Startled by the voice, I quickly turned around and successfully managed to smack Desmond right in the face with my broomstick. So much for looking slick in front of a group of hot girls. Hot Ravenclaw girls.

Ignoring the unknown girl that was walking behind Desmond and I, I quickly turned to him, forcing the chuckle back down my throat. “Sorry, mate.” I half laughed. “This girl startled me.”

Once he lifted his head, he glared at me. “It’s just Layla, you dolt.” He snapped, clutching the side of his face with the palm of his hand. “She’s been calling you a pig for six years. I would have thought that you would have gotten used to it by now.”

I turned, and Layla was in fact, walking at a safe distance behind Desmond and I. “Oh, hey Layla.” I greeted, grinning. I wasn’t really that happy to see her, I was just relieved to be able to smile freely after holding in my laughter when I hit Desmond in the face.

She rolled her eyes.

I frowned at her. “Thanks for distracting my little moment with that blonde back there.” I told her sarcastically. “She was really cute too.”

This time, Layla frowned at me. “Way to check out other girls in front of Vicky, James.”

Whoa, hang on there. Since when did I, James Sirius Potter, need to worry about looking at other girls in front of Victoria? She was not my girlfriend. I am bloody free to do whatever the hell I want!

Like check out hot Ravenclaw girls in a sexy school girl get-up.

It was then that I had finally realized that Victoria was walking quietly beside her. Her attention seemed to be immersed in something small and golden in her hands. As we all slowed our pace, I watched with curiosity as her brow started to furrow with every passing second, all thoughts the Ravenclaw girls fleeing from my mind. She looked frustrated and confused, and well…. It was rather cute. In a strange, abnormal, hateful way, of course.

Layla seemed to notice where my attention had been for the past two minutes, since she turned to Victoria as well, looking over her shoulder to see what she was fiddling with. “Vic, what are you doing?” she asked suddenly, clearly confused as well.

“I can’t get this bloody thing to open.” Victoria muttered, clearly frustrated, in a voice that was barely audible.

Desmond chuckled and fell behind, sliding his arm across Victoria’s shoulders. “Vicky, why are you trying to open a snitch? You’re going to end up losing it in the castle. Seeking isn’t exactly your thing, sweetie.”

“I want to play with it.” She answered simply, frowning up at Desmond. “But it won’t bloody open!” her sudden outburst caused my heart to pound a beat faster than its normal rate. “What is the point having a snitch that won’t even open?” Victoria asked as if she was holding the most stupid thing on earth.

I sighed as I decided to put Vicky out of her little debacle. “That snitch will only open for whoever was the first to catch it.” I informed her. Reaching out, I grabbed the snitch from her hand and just as I had expected, I felt the familiar soft wings grazing across the palm of my hands. “I think I caught this in my fourth year.”

Victoria smiled happily and grabbed the snitch right out of my hand and released it into the ceiling. She followed the snitch with a look of pure happiness sprawled across her face.

“You’re like a child, Vic.” Desmond commented, retracting his arm and steadying his broomstick across his shoulders once more.

“You’re only realizing this now?” Layla questioned. “She’s acted like this since we were eleven. Always so amazed by snitches. It’s too bad she couldn’t be a seeker.”

I remember Victoria and I tried out for the team at the same time. Both she and I tried out for the one open Seeker position. You can all guess how that turned out. She was small and fast, yes. But she could not perform a complete and successful dive, even if her life depended on it. The nose of her broomstick always came an inch from the ground before someone tackled her off her own broom to prevent any unwanted deaths.

“I think Vicky would be dead right now if she was seeker instead of chaser. And not to mention, we Gryffindor house wouldn’t have won so many trophies.”

“Oh puh-lease, Desmond. You talk as if James single handedly won each and every one of those awards.” Layla retorted, and I couldn’t help but smirk proudly at their conversation.

“Face it, Layla, he’s the best seeker there is!”

“You know Des, sometimes it sounds like there’s a lot more to you and Potter than just a close-knit friendship...”

Okay, I’m going to ignore the fact that Layla had just implied that my best friend and I were gay for each other, and instead, I’m going to turn my attention to something more worth-while. It’s not like I had a choice anyway. It was either watch in amusement as Victoria attempts to catch the fluttering snitch, or slowly lose a dangerously enormous amount of brain cells from watching Layla and Desmond argue about his (more than once questioned) sexual orientation.

From far away, Victoria looked like a little, miniature fairy. Her blonde hair came loose, falling around her shoulders. Her thin frame made her look small and fragile at first glance, and the way she ran, jumped and gilded everywhere gave the strangely believable faux pretense the cherry on top of a large sundae.

Ugh, if she wasn’t so annoying, and maybe if I didn’t hate her so much, then maybe—just maybe—I wouldn’t have such a hard time admitting that she was, in actuality, rather beautiful.


“Mate, you should just do it.”

The corridors were irritatingly crowded. There was a group of what looked to be sixth years huddled up by the entrance of the Transfiguration room, causing the majority of the traffic. Frustrated, I shoved my way through the crowd, making sure that Desmond and Tyler were still trailing behind me. Classes has just ended, and we were all making our way to History of Magic, the one class I seriously regret taking.

“Desmond’s right, James.” Tyler said once we were all walking side by side in a less crowded corridor. “It’s one date. Honestly, Vicky isn’t that bad.”

I heard a chuckle come from my right. “She’s not bad at all.” Desmond informed me for about the five-hundredth time since we’ve first met. “Honestly mate. You’ll learn to love her. I didn’t like her much when we were younger, but what can I say? She grew on me.”

“He’s been with her for six years and he still can’t stand her.” Tyler pointed out.

“That’s because he’s never bothered to try.”

“That’s enough.” I told the two. “I’ll meet you guys in class. I need to take care of something.”

I left the two of them as they turned the corner, and began racking my brain, trying to think of what Victoria’s next class was… Charms! She’s always complaining about having Charms with the majority of the Slytherins. Whiny little bint.

I walked down the corridor with hurried strides, wanting to get this over with before I managed to change my mind again. The corridors were almost empty at this point, most kids having already moved into their next class. It was difficult to locate the Charms room, but he managed to catch a blonde wisps of hair disappearing behind a set of dark, oak doors.

“Victoria!” I bellowed, hoping to catch her before she completely entered the classroom. “Victoria!” I called again.

The door was almost shut, and I sighed, slowing my pace. This was ridiculous. I was chasing down Victoria so that I can say yes to her asking me out. On a bloody date. A bloody, freaking, date.

Suddenly, I caught a head poking out of the door from the corner of my eye. The familiar face of Victoria Rose clouded my vision, and I slowly began walked towards her. “What do you want?” she asked. “I have class.”

“This won’t take long.” I assured her. ‘Believe me, It’s not like I want to be here either..’ I thought to myself.

“Then why are you here?”

Did I just say that out loud?

“Er, I came to tell you…” How should I say this? ‘Hey there Vicky, I came to tell you that I want to go on a date with you in exchange for your participation on the Gryffindor team. “That… er… I agree.”

She gave me a confused look, stepping out further into the corridor. “Agree with what?” she continued.

I stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to begin rocking on my heels. “That thing that we were talking about earlier..”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “What thing?” she asked.

Was she knocked over the head with a boulder or something?

“That thing…”

“Potter, cut the crap. Just tell me what you came to tell me.” She sighed with defeat and spoke with exaggerated exasperation. “I need to get to class.”

I scowled at her. “I’ll go on a date with you.” I muttered.

She was silent for a few moments. “What?” she asked, loudly, leaning in closer.

“Are you being serious right now, Victoria?” I demanded, my eyebrows furrowing.

“I honestly did not hear word you said.”

In any other circumstances, if any other Gryffindor had the balls to quit the team, I would never, ever take them back, even if they groveled at my feet. If I did, what kind of example would that set for the rest of us? People will think that they can just leave whenever they want, as if I’ve gone soft. No, I’m definitely not going soft. I’m just—well to be honest, I’m just down right desperate. And, while we’re all being honest here, I needed Vic on the team.

“I’ll. Go. On. A. Date. With. You.” I said through gritted teeth, trying to recite all the reasons that had brought me standing before her in the first place.

Suddenly, her face cracked into a grin. I wasn’t sure why, but it frustrated me even more. “I thought that’s what you said.”

Refraining myself from the urge to glare at her, I shifted my gaze down to the ground. “The Saturday after the Quidditch game good for you?” I didn’t bother waiting for her answer. “Good, then. Nice chatting with you.” I turned on my heel and continued down the opposite end of the corridor.

“James!” I cringed at how smoothly my name rolled off the tip of her tongue. “You’ll fall in love with me in no time!” she called loudly.

I almost filled the corridor with my bitter, dry laughs. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I called back, turning around to face her. There was a significant distance between us now, but I could still see the smile plastered on her face. “Oh by the way, Vicky, Quidditch practice, tomorrow five-thirty AM. Best not be late.” I sang.

“Go die, Potter!”

That’s my girl.

Victoria Rose

Ugh. This love sick thing was getting a bit ridiculous. The first couple of moments I was shot with an arrow, I guess I was able to control the love switch more than I was able to do so now. Every where I go, I think of Potter. I think of the possibilities of running into him in the corridors, or sitting beside him during breakfast, lunch or dinner. I was so bloody in love with the boy, it was driving me mad!

Of course, there were those random moments when my head finally decides to start working, and I would immediately seize the moment and throw an insult or two towards Potter. Hey, I need my daily dose of messing with Potter’s life. My day would not be complete without it!

Layla and I were aimlessly walking through the corridors, trying to kill some time before curfew. After finishing our homework (well, the important ones at least—no, more like my homework for my very first class the next day), we decided to take a stroll around the castle. I normally don’t favor wandering around the dark, murky castle (as beautiful as I think Hogwarts is, it’s bloody creepy at night), but for Layla, who was absolutely itching to take a walk, I made an exception.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Desmond to come back?” I asked her as I hesitantly followed her out of the common room. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, and you know he never passes up the chance to walk around in the dark…”

“Oh stop being so dramatic.” Layla spoke exasperatedly. “There are torches everywhere. It won’t be dark until the prefects have finished making their rounds for the night.”

“And by then we’ll be back in our nice, warm beds, right?” I asked brightly, my face practically lighting up with joy. “RIGHT?!”

“Chill!” Layla exclaimed, giving me a strange and slightly fearful look. “Why are you so afraid of the dark?”

I shrugged, as I rolled the sleeves of my crisp, white shirt back down to my wrists. “You never know what’s hidden in the dark.”

“Nothing will happen.” She assured me.

I sighed hopelessly. The opposite of what she believed would happen always tends to happen—if that made any sense at all.. I reckon I’m in for a very long night.

“—and then there were fourteen rat tails on top of the bloody table, and the little bitch decides to take all fourteen—no, she doesn’t even take the five that she needs, she takes the whole thing—and just walks away.” It’s been about thirty minutes since we’ve left the common room. And within that thirty minutes, we managed to get ourselves lost. This was definitely one thing we did not consider when we decided to go on this little night time adventure of ours. As well took several turns and walked down countless of corridors, Layla has been too distracted as she recited her day in a very long, very angry, rant. As for me, well, AS FOR ME, guess who I was too busy thinking about.

James Fucking Potter, that’s who.

“So I’m all like, COOL this bitch just stole all my rat tails. Now Slughorn will be breathing down my neck when I go into the storage room to get more ingredients. I’m about to get up and get some more, when she takes the fucking rat tails, which are STILL BLEEDING, MIND YOU, and sticks them right down my shirt, Oh yeah. Right down my fucking shirt.” she continued.

I chuckled. “You know most people would think that you were the most angelic person ever. What they do not know is that you curse like a pirate.”

She stared at me with utter shock. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?” She demanded, a look of sheer horror plain on her face. “She stuffed bleeding rat tails down my shirt!”

“What more can you expect from Georgia Henriksen?” I asked her, not surprised at all. “She’s a bitch, and everyone surely knows it.”

Layla began muttering a thread of curses under her breath, and I laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you and Dom will start scheming on how to get her back in no time. Don’t you worry.” I told her, looping my arm around hers. “Never once have either of you let her get away with anything.”

“Vic,” Layla said suddenly, stopping in her tracks. “Where are we?”

I stared at her, my arm dropping back down to my side. “I think, about twenty minutes ago, we’ve already established that we are lost.” I said dryly.

“How are we going to get back to the common room? The lights are dimming—the prefects must almost be done with their rounds.”

I gave her a look, a look of pure distaste that bluntly said ‘I TOLD YOU SO. THIS IS WHY WE SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN OUR DORM INSTEAD OF GETTING OURSELVES LOST’. “Well.. aren’t we screwed.” The things I say when I’ve got absolutely nothing else to say. Well, I had plenty to say, but I wasn’t about to blow off on Layla. She will have enough to deal with when I start freaking out when the lights go off.

Ten minutes later, the lights have completely gone off, and here we are, still wandering around, but now, we’re wandering around in the dark. I think I was about two minutes away from a nervous break down.

“Layla, it’s freaking dark.”

“I know, Vic. I can see that.”

“No Layla, I mean it’s dark as shit.” I put emphasis on ‘shit’. That’s what we were in. Complete and utter shit. “We can’t even see what’s on the other end of that hallway over there.”

“Relax, we have our wands.”

“The light from our wands doesn’t reach the other end, unfortunately.” I informed her bluntly. “If it did, would I still be complaining about how dark it was?”

“Merlin, Vicky, you’re like a child who’s afraid of the dark.”

“I am afraid of the dark!”

“You’re such a child.”

Before I could think of some snappy come back, a loud bang echoed through the quiet corridor. My heart almost fell out of my chest as I jumped about a feet off the ground. “What the bloody hell was that?” I demanded, huddling closer to Layla. Although she was beside me, there was still a good 270 degrees exposed to any being that might have been around us. “What was that?” I asked again.

Another bang came, and Layla squealed. “I don’t know.” She answered fearfully.

As ironic as it sounds, the sound of menacing laughter followed a third bang. My heart began thumping wildly in my chest. All I could focus on was the laughter, and what might be at the end of that corridor. There were so many possibilities. When you’re a witch, everything you believed when you were a simple muggle no longer applies. Your world expands—your range expands, and soon enough, you learn that there are so many different possibilities for any situation that you manage to get yourself into. There are so many different ways to die.

The sound of the laughter grew louder, which meant that the perpetrator was coming closer.

“Who’s there?” I demanded, my voice quivering slightly. I held my wand out forward as I tried to extend the light as far as possible. There was no one in sight, and both Layla and I stood there, wondering what was going on. “Who’s there?” I repeated.

The laughing continued, but this time, a second laugh joined in.


I screamed my guts out and quickly ran forward, dragging Layla along with me. The voice that suddenly appeared in my ear caused me to feel a rather unsettling and uncomfortable feeling in my chest that made me feel nauseated.

The laughter continued, although this time, it was not as menacing as before. It went from a cackle to downright laughter. I recognized the laugh as well.

“Desmond.” I growled.

I turned around and found Potter and Desmond bent over, laughing their heads off.

“Merlin, Vicky, you should have seen your face!” Des exclaimed while he raised his hand to point his finger in my direction. “It was bloody priceless!”

“And Layla! Oh Merlin, I’ve never seen you so afraid.” Potter added.

I turned to Layla and realized that she was seething in her own shoes. “I am going to kill you two.” She said in a low, threatening voice.

“I swear to God, you two better run.”

Abruptly, their laughter ceased, and before they knew it, Layla and I lunged in their direction, running as fast as we could. Unfortunately, these two boys played Quidditch, and lets face it, boys were generally faster runners than girls were. It was simply genetics. Potter and Desmond quickly bolted down the corridor, while both Layla and I were hot on their heals.

It was difficult to run so quick and hold out our wands for light at the same time. My vision started to blur, and my chest began constricting tightly.

“Since when were you two able to run so much?” Potter asked with surprise. “You complain so much about running during practice, when clearly, you two are both fit to run for miles and miles!” It was amazing how he wasn’t even out of breath yet.

“It’s called being pissed, Potter! I believe this is all adrenaline.” I barked, turning a corner, following as fast as I could. My hands itched to squeeze his neck until it popped. “You two scared us to death!”

Unexpectedly, a loud screech flared from Layla’s tiny mouth, and before I could even register what was going on, she jumped forward and tackled Desmond to the ground.

Both Potter and I were too shock to even remember that he was supposed to be running away from him, and I was supposed to kill him with my own bare hands. We slightly skid against the ground before we came to a complete stop. I walked towards my two best friends, who looked as though they were playfully wrestling on the ground.

“Am I the only one who finds this incredibly strange?” I heard a voice whisper in my ear.

My heart fluttered. Yes, it fucking fluttered. The previous feeling of my chest constricting tightly was replaced by a light, soaring feeling. It felt as though I was falling from a thousand feet in the sky.

I might not be falling from the sky, but I sure as hell was falling somewhere.

“This is very, very strange.” I managed to say.

Yes. I successfully managed to make myself not seem so thickheaded.

“I’m going to kill you, you bloody prat!” Layla cried as she straddled Desmonds waist.

If this were a boy, Desmond would have him on his back with a throat pointed straight at his throat. I think Desmond was too much of a gentleman to manhandle a girl like Layla. Either that or he was just shit scared that she was going to rip his head off.

“I’m sorry, James and I were just playing around!” he exclaimed in defense. His arms were held in front of his face in attempt to shield himself from Layla’s punches, which wasn’t much, but enough to leave a bruise. “Layla, I’m sorry!”

“You scared us, you arsehole!” she snapped at him.

Potter sighed from behind me, and walked around me. He stepped over the two and grabbed Layla by the waist, hoisting her up on her feet. “James, let go of me!” she shouted demandingly.

“Calm down,” he told her.

Trying my best to hide my grin, I knelt down beside Desmond and helped him up off the ground. “This is what you get.” I told him with a completely straight face.

“Oh shut it. I know you want to laugh.” He scowled, looking away from me while he brushed the dirt off his clothes.

Against my will, my lips curved into a smile.

I hated how I couldn’t stay mad at him for long.


“I’d like to inform all of you that you’re all very close to getting caught out after hours.” All four of our heads snapped towards the culprit of the voice. Absentmindedly, we all sighed once we spotted Tyler emerging from the darkness, making his way towards us. “Vicky, you can scream.”

“So I reckon you took care of that thing, yeah?” Potter asked, setting Layla back down on her feet.

I couldn’t help but feel a slight shred of jealousy once I realized that Potter had his arms around Layla.


This is disgusting.

“Yeah.” Tyler replied, his face breaking out into a smirk. “Took care of it alright.”

I looked from Tyler, to Potter and back. “Ugh, Tyler you’re disgusting.” I rolled my eyes. “Always snogging random girls here and there. One day, you’re going to catch an STD, and you will cry and suffer.”

“Vicky is just bitter that she’s all alone in this sad, cold world.” Desmond interjected. I felt his hand slither around my shoulders, and I turned to glare at him. “It’s okay, Vicky. You will always have me.”

“And not to mention her new boyfriend, the eldest of the Potters.” Tyler smirked again.

“Shut it, Ty.” Potter ordered. “C’mon, lets get back before we get caught out after hours.”

Slowly, the rest of us nodded and turned around towards the direction where Tyler came from. However, before we could take another step into the darkness, a muffled moan, followed by the sound of objects colliding together, stopped us in our tracks.

“Er, what was that?” Layla asked from beside Potter.

All our eyes were glued to a broom closet situated on the right hand side of the corridor. I felt like we were all looking into some parallel universe. I shook out of my trance and took a look at the rest of their faces, and it’s as if they were entranced. “Guys, instead of staring at the door, why don’t we open it and see who’s inside?” thickheads.

Another moan.

“They’re snogging.” Tyler said.

“Really? I thought they were in there killing bunnies and other furry animals.” I retorted quickly, unable to pass up the wide open opportunity for sarcasm.

“Har, har.” He bit back.

“Er, should we open it?” Des asked hesitantly, looking back at us.

Layla shrugged and before I knew it, she reached forward and pulled the door open.


Dom was in there. Her shirt was off. She had some bloke pressed up against the wall. His shirt was unbuttoned, but remained on his shoulders. His hands were pressed against her arse, and her hands were roaming his exposed skin. They were getting it in. Neither of them even noticed that five other people were currently watching their ministrations with disbelief.

“Haha…” I began, unsure of what to do. “Isn’t this awkward…”

Dominique, finally coming up for air (she had a very, very long lung capacity), turned around with eyes the size of saucers. “What the fuck?”

My eyes traveled over to the bloke she had been furiously snogging. Judging from the blue and silver, striped tie around his neck, I was able to tell that he was a Ravenclaw—probably in our year. I’ve seen him a couple of times around the castle, but I never had the chance to learn his name. I wasn’t aware that he and Dom were even acquainted. I then realized that this was probably some random hookup, with some random guy, in some random corridor, because of some random moment of passion they just needed to get out of their system.

“Dom?” Potter squeaked. I turned to look at him. It was as if he’d just witness a four year old stripping on a pole in front of a hundred blokes.

Potter/Weasley’s overreact. Big time.

“Dom.” Tyler’s tone was surprisingly cold. He was one of the most light-hearted people I knew. It was rare to see Tyler bitter, hurt or genuinely angry. He was all smiles and giggles. But now, as he stared at a half naked Dominique Weasley, his face turned to stone.

“Dom?” Layla asked with surprise.

“Hey, I think we’ve all established that this girl is, in fact, Dominique.” I interjected before someone else says “Dom,” for the third time.

“Who is he?” Desmond asked, pointing to the guy behind her.

“Yes, Dominique, who is he?” Tyler added as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m not going to tell you his name.” Dom replied quickly. “You’ll murder him!”

Layla scoffed playfully. “Or maybe because you, yourself, don’t know it.”

“I do know it!” Dom exclaimed resentfully.

I could have sworn I heard Tyler growl under his breath.

“Dom.” The boy in question took a step forward and snaked his arm around Dom’s bare waist. “Shouldn’t you tell your friends to leave?” he asked closely, pressing his lips close to her ear. I watched with disgust as he placed wet, sloppy kisses down her neck and across her left shoulder. From the looks of it, Dom didn’t seem to be enjoying the kisses as much a she should have. “We’ve still got a lot of… talking to do.” He smirked—he smirked a very ugly smirk. I’ve never seen an uglier smirk. I preferred Potters’ annoyingly handsome smirk over his. At least it made him look sexy.

Haha… I did not just say that…

I heard another growl come from Tyler, and this time, I was sure it was him. Why? Because he just shoved me out of the way and lunged for the poor bloke. I watched with disbelief as he threw punch after punch, damaging bones and breaking blood vessels in his body.

“Tyler!” Dominique shouted. “Tyler, get off of him!” she grabbed hold of Tyler’s shoulders, but it was no use. He was too strong for her. “James! Desmond, do something!” she pleaded desperately.

I know this was really random, and pretty inappropriate considering that a full on brawl had just broken out right in front of my very eyes, but Dominique was still half naked, clad in only her pink, lacy bra. It must be pretty awkward to be watching your friend beat up with a boy you were just exchanging saliva with, wearing only a bra and a school skirt. She looked like a prostitute. Just saying.

Potter seemed to have noticed this as well, and he shrugged off his white school shirt and placed it on Dominique’s shoulders.

Why… in the name of Merlin Potter. Why did you have to take your bloody shirt off? Wearing only a white beater, I was now able to fully appreciate every part of his upper body. Every part of it.

“Desmond!” Layla exclaimed.

Her sudden outburst caused me to realize how dazed I’ve been. Tyler was currently throwing incessant punches towards some poor bloke while I stood here, ogling Potter’s body.

“Des, I think you should at least pull Ty off of him.” I told him, nudging his side with my elbow.

“Desmond, please do something!” Dominique cried.

I wasn’t sure why he did it. Probably because it was in the nature of a Cupid. Or maybe, it was the first thing he could think of. Or, Des just wanted a bloody laugh.

So he pulled out his bow and arrow, and shot one straight into Tyler’s arse. It was an easy shot, and unfortunately, Desmond did not miss. Tyler cried out with pain, before he turned around swiftly, immediately locking eyes with a very shocked-stricken Dominique Weasley.

Chapter 5: Quidditch Heat and Moments of Weakness'
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Five

Victoria Rose

Desmond was a fucking imbecile.

I could literally smack my face with my palm a thousand times over out of the colossal amount of stupidity steaming from his head. In less than five minutes, we caught Dominique snogging a random bloke that we have never seen before, AND Desmond managed to get Tyler to fall in love with Dom. This shit only ever happens in Hogwarts, ladies and gents.

I don’t know about him, but I heard Layla urge him to stop the fight. I did not hear her tell him to shoot Tyler with one of his arrows.

This is the second time he’s done something so utterly ridiculous.

When he hears the words ‘Do something!’, does it automatically translate to, ‘Desmond, shoot he/she with an arrow!’?

“What the hell, Desmond!” Layla exclaimed, staring at the love-stricken facial expression that had just crawled onto Tyler’s face in a matter of seconds. She slapped Desmond’s arm, which was a completely futile attempt to punish him. “I said do something, not shoot Tyler with an arrow!”

“Mate, what the hell.” Potter muttered, staring at Tyler. “That’s my baby cousin!”

Out of all the fuss that was going on, I almost forgot that Potter—with his ruggedly handsome good looks, and not to mention, practically naked upper body—was standing right behind me.

“Christ, Des… what the fuck.” Dom followed as she clutched James’ shirt closer to her body.

A pained groan brought my attention away from the matter at hand. I then realized that the boy in question was still lying on the ground, bruised and bloody. His nose was broken, his eye was black and there was blood gushing from his nostrils, his lips and from the corner of his mouth. “What’s going on?” he murmured, clutching his broken nose. “What’s all this talk about an arrow?”

Oh my Merlin, I forgot he was still here.

“Way to go, guys.” Desmond said exasperatedly.

“Don’t even start with me.” Layla snapped, swiveling around to face him. “This is your fault to begin with.”

“Damage control!” Potter exclaimed.

“James, shouting out ‘damage control’ isn’t exactly doing damage control.” Dominique informed him.

Ugh, these dunder-heads.

“Er…” I began awkwardly, trying to think of some elaborate, plausible lie. C’mon brain, don’t fail on me now. “Er.. a giant troll just stopped by and shot Tyler with an arrow… and it ran away… really fast… back to it’s hiding place… in the dungeon… cause you know… trolls are really stupid… yeah…”

Both Desmond and James turned to me with strange, dumbfounded looks. “Seriously, Vick?”

I held my finger up quickly, motioning for the idiots to shut up. “Wait for it.” I whispered.

“Oh, that’s er.. I heard there was a troll living in the castle, but I was told that it barely ever came out.” He shrugged, and picked himself up off the floor.

Either he was really stupid, or Tyler did a really good job at punching his brains out.

Since when was there a troll living in the castle? The last live troll was sent back into the forest back when the Golden Trio was still in Hogwarts

Layla and I immediately shared a look. Our telepathic best friend abilities are screaming ‘IS THIS KID STUPID, OR WHAT?’.

“How she always manages to do this… I will never know.” Des said, his tone harboring utter amazement.

“So.. well.. you better get back to your common room. I’m sorry, on behalf of Tyler.” Dom said, sighing, finally realizing that fighting against these three boys were a lost cause. See, this is how it worked: if they are on your side, then that’s just bloody great for you. But if they’re against you—with all the good intentions in the world of course—then it’s either you struggle and sink faster, or you give up and let them take the reigns.

I learned this the hard way, unfortunately.

“Yeah, I guess I should.” The still-unnamed boy breathed in a rather fazed way. “I’ll see you around Dom.”

She gave him a simple, but adequate for the situation, head-nod, before turning back to us. She was pissed.

“Thanks guys.” She sneered, her face contorted with a scowl. “I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t even start with me, Dom.” Potter snapped viciously. “What the hell do you think you’re doing snogging random blokes in deserted corridors like these? What if he tried to rape you? Merlin, Dominique, do you ever stop and think about the situations you get yourself in?” It was one of the very rare times I’ve ever seen Potter so… worried.

After years of hanging around this pig-headed prat, I guess—and mind you, I will never admit this out loud—I’ve come to learn that he really wasn’t a pig-headed prat. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when he was a lot more than some boorish, insolent, toe-rag, but there were times when he was a real human being. His family—not matter how much he says he hates them, and finds them incredibly annoying—brings out the best in him. When you meet a guy like that—when you meet a guy like Potter, who’s cold and a complete asshole on the outside, but who’s got a heart of a care-bear inside, you just can’t help but fall completely, and utterly in love with him.

Oh my Merlin what the bloody hell am I saying?! STOP TALKING BRAIN, STOP TALKING.

All of a sudden, all eyes were on me… Oh, did I say that out loud? Whoops.

“Are you okay?” Desmond asked, as if I was some mentally ill patient going bonkers. His hands were perched on my shoulders, and he bent down to level with my eyes.

I glared at him and shoved his hands away. It was all his fault anyway. It was his fault that I was in love with Potter. Fuck, I think I’m going mad. “I’m fine.” I snapped in response.

Desmond recoiled and gave me a strange look. “What’s gotten into you?”

There was really no way of yelling at Desmond without uncovering the truth behind my outburst… I certainly did not want Potter, of all people, to know that I grew crazy at the mere thought of him. His head would grow even larger than it already is.

So I simply continued glaring, harnessing every ounce of hatred in my body through the depths of my eyes.

Yes, Desmond, burn under my fucking glare.

“Don’t… look at me like that..” he said, wincing slightly and looking away. “Merlin, you’re scary sometimes.” He muttered under his breath.

“And you’re a moron.” I spat. “What the hell compelled you to shoot Tyler with an arrow?”

His eyes rolled. “Trust me, I’d be doing those two a favor by shooting Ty.”

Did he really just insinuated that Dominique and Tyler are meant to be together? Hell had just frozen over. Holy Merlin.

“What?” Dom demanded while she attempted to pry a very clingy Tyler off her body.

“Des, what did we say about exposing futuristic crap in front of my family?” Potter, who was still clad in a rather thin beater, spoke. “They’ll just get all nosy. Now you won’t be able to get her off your back.” He clapped a hand to Desmond’s shoulder. “I wish you the best of luck, mate.”

Merlin he was sexy.

“What did you say?” Dominique repeated in the same demanding tone, completely ignoring Potter’s statement. “Des, you better bloody repeat what you had just said.”

“Haha…” he laughed nervously. “Well… I think we’ve been out here for way too long.” he said as he attempted to nonchalantly scan the corridor. “I’m pretty sure I hear someone coming. We better get back to the common room before we get caught!” he then proceeded to turn around and walk down the corridor, and most likely back to the common room.

Dominique, who didn’t buy a single pinch of his lies, ran after him and began demanding answers, which he proceeded to ignore. “Don’t you ignore me, Desmond!”

The two then successfully left Tyler, Layla, Potter and I standing alone—looking rather stupid, might I add—in an empty corridor, staring after them.

“I think we should go too.” Layla said, breaking the silence.

Potter sighed hopelessly. He gripped Tyler by the shoulders, and took a good look at his face. “Mate,” he said.


I almost laughed.

Layla giggled beside me.

“You alright?” Potter questioned as he examined Tyler’s face. “He didn’t get a punch in, did he?”

Tyler ignored him. “James.” He whispered with wide eyes. By the look of his expression, I was suddenly fearful that he was about to utter something grave; something frightening. Layla and I both took a step closer, circling around the two boys. He was silent for a good while. He simply blinked several times and his eyes moved over me, to James, to Layla and then back. And then, finally, after what seemed like the longest time ever, he spoke. “Mate, I think I’m in love.”



Holy mother of Merlin’s sweaty balls. It was hot. I didn’t just mean hot. I meant, sticky, humid, clothes-sticking-to-my-body hot.

The season has just began, which meant fall should be right around the corner. It should be moderately cool outside, no? But this afternoon, it was bloody burning. The sun was at its peak. Having a free period before and after lunch was never really a good thing. It only gave Potter an excuse to hold extra practice during the day, despite the weather.

I actually envy those who have afternoon classes. At least they won’t have to deal with excessive Quidditch practices in scorching weather.

Due to the heat, and because I didn’t want a weird tan, I shed my equipment off, leaving only a white tank top and black shorts. If McGonagall saw me hovering a hundred feet off the ground, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, she’d kick my arse off the team and send me straight to detention.

At this point, no one really seemed to care what the rules were. Potter and Desmond had been flying around shirtless for the past thirty minutes, and Layla had removed her upper gear, but left her slacks on.

I was currently hovering by the hoops, lounging on my broomstick. I was practically sprawled across the thin stick, too hot to move a muscle. I watched Potter and Desmond flying back and forth across the pitch, their body glistening with sweat. Fred and Tyler was excused for class, and Peter called in sick.

If you ask me, the little bugger probably couldn’t handle the heat.

I wouldn’t blame him. If only I had known that it was going to be a fucking oven outside, I would have made some excuse concerning—er—female problems, just to stay in my nice, cool dorm room.

I could feel beads of sweat swarming together on the surface of my skin. It dripped down my chest, and through my cleavage. This was not a comfortable feeling. Not a comfortable feeling at all.

I dragged my hand across my chest and wiped the sweat off before I lifted my slightly damp hair off my back, tying it into a loose, messy bun on the top of my head.

Holy shit it was hot.

“Oi!” I picked my head up slightly, and saw Potter, along with a bludger, speeding towards me. “Duck!”

I squealed loudly, and quickly dropped into a dive, in hopes to avoid the bludger. Once I was settled on the other side of the pitch, safe from any bludgers, I slumped against my broom once more. The heat was excruciatingly painful. I wanted to crawl into a cold shower and sit there for the rest of the day.

“Rose!” I heard Potter call.

“What?” I snapped irritably. Clearly, I was not in the mood to deal with Potter.

Even if he was shirtless and sexy.

“It’s still practice! So get over there and practice!” He extended his arm, pointing to the middle of the pitch, and I watched the muscles of his arm ripple beneath his skin. “And at least keep some of your gear on.” Potter sneered as his eyes traveled over the length of the visible parts of my body. “You of all people shouldn’t be playing without any protection.”

I growled. “Kiss my ass, Potter.” I barked angrily. “It feels like it’s a hundred degrees outside and you have us out here baking under the bloody sun.”

He rolled his eyes with great exasperation. “It’s hardly a hundred degrees. Stop being so over dramatic, Rose. Now get your arse over there before I kick you off the team.”

I scoffed. “Like you would kick me off the team when Gryffindor has a game right around the corner.”

“Don’t test me, Rose.” Potter said, warningly. “You’re lucky that I don’t force you to do laps right now.”

I knew better than to get myself into another row with Potter, but I couldn’t help myself. the heat was getting to me, and I felt like I was sweating a river.

“Fuck you, Potter. I’m leaving.” With one last malicious look, I flew down to the ground, and hopped off my broom. I was angry, and desperately in need of a shower. I would probably end up skipping my next class so I can drown myself in cold water.

I could hear Potter calling after me, but I ignored him. The locker rooms drew closer and closer with every step, and I was practically itching to get out of my sweaty clothes. I was surprised at how easy it was to shove aside my ‘feelings’ for Potter when I was angry. It felt good to be myself for once.

There it is… The gates of Heaven. The doors of the locker room were in my reach… just a little more and I can jump into a cold shower, and forget this horrid day.

I reached for the knob, but I never felt it. I was suddenly facing Potter, in all his half-naked glory.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.

I glared back at him, channeling every ounce of my rage through that one glare. “You’re crazy if you think that I’m going to continue practicing in this heat.” I snapped. “I’m going to go into the locker rooms, to take a nice, cold shower, and to get away from you, Captain Arsehole.”

“You’re not going in there.” Potter said, gripping my arm tightly, and pulling me back towards the Pitch.

“Oh yes I am.” I countered, pulling back towards the showers.

Now, I know I was being a bit silly if I thought that I could win Potter in a battle of strength, but it was hot, and my pride would not allow me to succumb to his orders. He was a bloody Quidditch Nazi, and I was getting tired of it.

“Yes, you are.” He said through gritted teeth, pulling me further and further away from the blessed home of the shower. “I’m the captain, Victoria, and you have to do what I say.”

“Captains can be overthrown if they act like incompetent dictators!” I retorted in crescendo.

He chuckled, clearly amused as I struggled against him. “That’s not how Quidditch works, silly Vicky.”

His grip tightened on my arm, and he tugged softly. I stumbled forward, thanks to my clumsy legs, and straight into his hard chest. “Now am I going to have to force you to get back on your broomstick and practice, or will you obey like a good little girl?” He asked condescendingly as his lips turned into a smug smirk.

My eyes narrowed into slits, and I drew my arm back to punch him, but his reflexes outdid my own. He other hand caught my wrist, and held it tightly in front of his chest. “Now, now. There’s no need for that.”

“Go to hell.” I spat.

“C’mon Vicky, play nice, will you?” He knew he was irritating me. He was enjoying being a smug arsehole—enjoying every bit of it.

As I tried to free my arms from his grasp, I realized how close our bodies were. He was holding my arms close to his chest, and I was unfortunately, rather attatched to my arms. My heart suddenly sped up in less than a second, and all rational though washed away. All I could seem to think about was the proximity of our bodies. I felt heat rush to my cheeks, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the pitch.

I suddenly stopped struggling against him, and instead, I lifted my gaze, and realized that not only our bodies were dangerously close together, but our faces as well. His lips, perfectly curved and defined, immediately came into my view, and against my better judgment, my heart immediately sped up. I lifted my eyes further up his face, and noticed that he was looking at me too. Potter’s smirk was fading, and his eyes suddenly grew intense. I could feel his chest heaving under my arms, which I completely forgot was still attatched to my body.

Time seemed to slow as I stood under his gaze. Both Layla and Desmond, who were probably watching us at this very moment, disappeared from my mind, along with the entire world. All I could seem to focus on, was Potter. My gaze shifted back to his lips, and I realized I wanted to kiss him. Merlin, I wanted to kiss him so badly.

His arms slowly eased their hold on my arms, allowing me to further relax against his body. His eyes were still settled on my face, causing me to feel small and miniscule.

A low, sexy groan rumbled through his throat, sending shivers down my back despite the heat. His hands released my arms, and he took a step back, immediately running his hands through his damp hair. He looked frustrated. Another groan came from the base of his throat. This time, it was louder.

I awkwardly stood before him, rooted at the spot with my arms dangling by my sides. I wasn’t sure what to do after he had released me. We had just been seconds away from snogging in the middle of the bloody Quidditch pitch, am I just supposed to walk away?

Potter turned around, giving me an amazing view of his back. Unfortunately—not that it was entire unfortunate, truth be told—I was too busy ogling Potter’s body to notice that he was rapidly advancing towards me. His hands took hold of my face, cradling it roughly as he planted his lips right on top of mine.

My eyes widened, and my brain went into panic mode. The arrow and my own mind was fighting a battle that was too much or me to handle. My feelings soon became a tangled mess, and I was no longer able to sort out anything in my own head. I then came to the conclusion that the only thing I would be able to focus on at this proximity is Potter, his gorgeous body, and his lips, which were currently moving against mine flawlessly. Eventually, I came alive against my own rational will, and began responding in a vigorous manner that I was unfamiliar with. My arms, which seemed to have a mind of its own, flew to his chest. I scraped my nails along the contours of his skin, loving the feeling of his muscle’s rippling beneath my hands. His hands left my face and moved down to my waist, squeezing and feeling every inch of my body.

His lips were soft and full. They felt undeniably perfect against my own. As he flushed my body against his as close as humanly possible, he kissed me urgently; passionately, and it was sending me over the edge.

I was kissing James Potter.

And I was loving every second of it.

All too soon, Potter pulled away. He was breathing heavily, and so was I. I watched, with swollen, parted lips, as Potter’s lips curved into a smirk. “Get your arse back on your broom.” And then he released me.

At this point, I was absolutely speechless.

Potter had just snogged me senseless. Literally. And now, he expects me to get my arse back on my broom and practice obediently? Was he fucking insane?

While Potter kicked off the ground, and returned back into the air, my legs began moving on its own accord, despite the thoughts that ran through my brain at that very moment. I picked up my broomstick, and returned to my station by the hoops, successfully binning the rest of the pride I had left.

James Potter

“Would you care to explain to me what the hell that little episode was about?” I knew this was coming. From the second I finally managed to bring myself back down to earth after that heated—and I do mean heated in the most literal way possible—snog, I knew Desmond would be demanding an explanation.

The only problem: I had none to give.

I could blame it on the severe heat, which usually messed with both my hormones and brain. I could blame it on the fact that she was on a bloody broomstick wearing nothing but a tank-top and shorts that barely covered her arse. Or, I could blame it on her little show with her chest and her neck.

Fuck, it was hot, and I was going a little mad. Sue me if I get a bit turned on by a practically half naked girl, on a broomstick, touching herself.

We skived the rest of our afternoon classes, feeling too worn out to move through the rest of the day. Our afternoon practice was brutal, only because of the blistering heat.

I hate to admit it, but Victoria was right. It was insane to practice in that condition, but I couldn’t exactly admit that. Not in front of her at least.

After taking one of the longest, coldest showers of my life, Des and I decided to find Tyler and start on the mountain of homework we had piled up in our dorm.

“Er, would you care to elaborate?” I asked, stalling my answer to try to pump out an excuse that would save my arse.

Desmond rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Don’t even try to work your way out of this one, mate. If you have already forgotten, I practically invented evasive language. Now cut the crap, and tell me what that was out there.”

I sighed. “Honestly, mate, I haven’t got a clue.” I ran my hands through my wet hair as I tried to find sufficient words to explain I kissed his best friend. “One minute I was yelling at her, trying to get her to stop being so bloody stubborn, and then the next, we were just…”

“Snogging each other’s brains out?” Desmond finished. “Yeah, I figured that much.”

“I don’t know what happened!” I exclaimed in all honesty, recalling the kiss. “You know I can’t stand her. It was just… a moment of weakness.”

“A moment of weakness?” he repeated, clearly not believing a word I said. “James, people who are on diets can have moments of weakness when their favorite chocolate cake is sitting right in front of them. Smokers can have moments of weakness once they caught the smell of smoke from someone else. You, on the other hand, can’t call it a ‘moment of weakness’ if you’ve hated her for six years.”

“Alright fine.” I snapped. “It was the heat.” I said, finding another excuse. “The bloody heat just got to me, and I don’t know.. she was just standing right there.” As I realized the words I was saying, I let out a cry of frustration. “C’mon Des, you can’t honestly tell me that you’ve never been attracted to her. She was practically wearing nothing. How did you expect me to react to that?”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. This was not a laughing matter. Well.. at least now I can be assured that he won’t be pounding my face in. “You know I don’t see her like that.”

“Oh please.” I scoffed. “You’d have to be mad to have gone six years without being attracted to her at least once.

“Are my ears deceiving me, or are you actually calling Vicky attractive? Christ Almighty, I never thought I’d see the day.”

I punched his shoulder. “Don’t push it, Cupid.” I growled. “I want nothing more than to be free of her.”

“Last I checked, James, you aren’t tied to her in any way.” He informed her. “She’s just in love with you.”

I looked at him. I didn’t know what to say. He was right. I wasn’t tied to Victoria in any way. I was free to do whatever I wished. I was free to snog that Ravenclaw prefect standing about five feet from me. I was free to fuck the entire female population of Hogwarts if I wanted. So why did I feel attatched to this girl?

We walked up a flight of stairs and turned the corner, and strode down the corridor. I was silent the entire time, sorting through my head, and trying to find a plausible explanation to his question. Desmond laughed, bringing me out of my thoughts.


“You know what I think?” he asked, as he dodged a small first year.

I was wondering why this corridor was so crowded, and then I realized that Transfiguration has just ended. “Enlighten me.” I said.

“You actually care about her.” Desmond said as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You feel attatched to Victoria because you don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

I gave him a strange look. “Don’t be ridiculous, Desmond. Where the hell did you get an idea like that?”

He laughed again. “Don’t try to deny it, mate. I can see more than you think. After all these years of fighting with her, you’ve finally come to care about her.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” I scoffed. “I don’t care about Victoria.”

I didn’t. I don’t. I never will. Right?

“Denial is not your strongest point, mate.” He said.

Smug bastard.

“Shut up, Desmond.” I growled. “I’m not ‘attatched’ to Victoria, and I definitely don’t care about her. I could fuck all those girls over there if I wanted to.”

“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes. “We both know you won’t do that. Girls talk all over the castle. Vicky will eventually hear about it, and she’ll be hurt. We both know that you wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“So what if I cared about her anyway?” I asked irritably. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to fall in love with her or anything like that. I can never love a girl like that.”

“Mate, believe it or not, it’s the only way you’re going to pull her out of the spell. My arrows are absolute, unfortunately. It’s either you fall in love with her, or you’re both going to stay in this little situation forever.” He reminded me. “Think about it, James.” He smirked. “You won’t be able to snog, or fuck any girl without feeling guilty.”

I punched Desmond again. “This is all your fault.” I growled.

He simply laughed loudly, causing it to ring throughout the corridor. “You two had it coming for a long time. Always bickering to no end.”

“Hang on.” I stopped in my tracks, suddenly having an epiphany. “Let’s say, for some unfathomable reason, I do fall in love with her.” He nodded, signaling me to continue. “So the spell wears off, and she’s all normal again, right?” Desmond nodded again. “So if that does happen, I’m going to be in love with her, while she’ll continue with her merry life, hating me?”

Desmond nodded with a shrug. “More or less.”

I gave him a dark look. “This is bloody ridiculous.” I turned, and made a move to continue walking down the corridor before Desmond reached out a hand to stop me. “What?”

“I’m only going to warn you once, James.” His tone sounded serious, and once I got a good look at his face, I realized that Desmond’s easy-going attitude had ebbed away, replaced by seriousness. “You’ve been my best friend since first year, but so has Victoria. If you hurt her in any way…”

I rolled my eyes, and shook his hand off my shoulder. “Don’t you think I know that already?” I asked, looking away. “Why do you think I’ve put up with her all these years?”

Once he seemed reassured, we continued on our journey to tracking down Tyler, who was most likely stalking Dominique in some deserted corridor. Love does some crazy shit to people.


I hated Desmond. I believe I say this on a daily basis. In all honesty, I imagine that constantly admitting that you hate your best mate, isn’t exactly a healthy relationship. (You know—friend wise. I am not a poof.) Ever since he shot Vicky with Cupid’s arrow about a week ago, I’ve been hating him with every fiber in my being.

And now, I hate him even more.

The little bugger could go to hell.

And have his wings clipped while he’s at it.

For the last twenty minutes, I’ve been wandering around the castle searching for Victoria. Apparently, he couldn’t leave the common room because he had a potions essay due the next morning along with a History of Magic test that he would most likely fail. Tyler was too busy trying to sneak into Dom’s dorm, and Dominique was too busy getting Layla to help her to try to find a way to get back at Desmond. So, because my life sucked and Merlin hated me, I was stuck searching for Victoria, who apparently went on a food run about an hour and a half ago, but never came back.

I could easily walk back into the common room and have myself a nice, long sleep for the night.

But that would mean that Desmond would murder me in my sleep without finding his precious girl.

Without the map, which Lily managed to lose in the mess that consumed her dorm room, I felt helpless as I wandered around the castle. I’ve already checked the kitchens, and all the likely routes she could have taken back to the common room. Now, I had no idea where I was going, and truth be told, I was getting rather pissed off.

How could a teenage girl get herself into trouble while walking from the common room and to the kitchens? It’s not exactly a difficult task. Perhaps if she had to walk through a swamp and make her way across a giant chessboard, she could be excused. But all she had to do was climb down a few measly stairs, through several corridors, tickle a pear, get her food and come back the way she came from. How could an educated, armed, and very capable seventeen year old girl get into trouble by doing something as easy and as simple as going to the kitchens?

I’ve fought with Victoria several times, and from experience, I can say that she can definitely handle herself against a bunch of Slytherins. Even though I might have been careful not to seriously injure the girl, it was still pretty difficult to get her on her back.

I’ve also fallen into several arguments with her, out of both our stubbornness and the ample amounts of pride that we have. With her quick wit and cunningness, she could have easily argued her way out of a detention with any teacher.

So where the bloody hell was she?

“Hello James.” My heart almost jumped out of my chest. The voice sounded familiar. Almost instantly, Victoria’s faced popped into my mind. I composed myself, preparing my tongue for an all out lashing, and then I turned around, and realized that it wasn’t Victoria.

“Amelie.” I breathed, surprised.

After our break up, I haven’t heard a word from her, and now, all of a sudden, here she is. She looked as gorgeous as ever.

Her lips broke out into a small, sweet smile. “How are you, James?” she asked.

Well, you cheated on me with the Slytherin Quidditch captain, and my best friends’ best friend is currently in love with me. How do you think I am?

“Fine.” I said simply.

She nodded, and looked down as she began fiddling with her hands, something she always did when she was nervous. As my eyes scanned her nervous state, old feelings began rushing back, and I found myself falling for her all over again. I completely forgot all about Victoria, and Desmond, as I became completely engrossed in Amelie.

Finally, she looked up, and I found myself staring into her familiar, soft, brown eyes. “James.” She gave me a small, slightly apprehensive smile. “Merlin, there’s no easy way to say this.” she whispered to herself as she ran one hand through her long, blonde curls. She took a step closer to me, and smiled again. “James, I want you back.”


so i know, maybe some of you are like WHAT THEEEEEEEEEEEE THEY KISS ALREADY? i realized it's a bit too soon. it's only the fifth chapter! but if some of you have read my other fics, i don't let anything fall together too quickly (; everything will play out pretty slow, since obviously, these two characters are both very stubborn.

ssssssssssooooooooo. i kinda really love desmond & james. desmond is like the caretaker of them all who always manages to mess things up. and james is this very.. stubborn, hormonal asshole, BUT we all know that he's a big softy inside.

and for any future sexual scenes in any chapter, please remember that you're inside the mind of a 17 year old boy!

anyhoo. tell me what you guys think!
Love, stacy.

Chapter 6: Mental Insanity and Towers of... Hickeys?
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Six

James Potter

“How are you, James?” she asked.

Well, you cheated on me with the Slytherin Quidditch captain, and my best friends’ best friend is currently in love with me. How do you think I am?

“Fine.” I said simply.

She nodded, and looked down as she began fiddling with her hands, something she always did when she was nervous. As my eyes scanned her nervous state, old feelings began rushing back, and I found myself falling for her all over again. I completely forgot all about Victoria, and Desmond, as I became completely engrossed in Amelie.

Finally, she looked up, and I found myself staring into her familiar, soft, brown eyes. “James.” She gave me a small, slightly apprehensive smile. “Merlin, there’s no easy way to say this.” she whispered to herself as she ran one hand through her long, blonde curls. She took a step closer to me, and smiled again. “James, I want you back.”

For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. As I stood there before her, I honestly believed that I had gone bonkers and I was currently having some sort of lucid dream about my Amelie. But then her hand came in contact with my shoulder, and her scent filled my nose. This was no dream. This was bloody real.

“What?” I asked stupidly, blinking rapidly.

Her smiled widened. “I want you back, James.” She whispered as she came closer in a way that made my mouth water with an unadulterated amount of desire. “I never meant to hurt you—you know that.”

I gulped as her other hand met my other shoulder. “No, I don’t think I do.” I managed to say. I felt my willpower disintegrating under her touch and I felt incredibly stupid for being so weak-willed.

Since when did a Gryffindor ever succumb to a Slytherin’s will? God, I was such a shame.

“Come James. I know you’ve missed me. I’ve missed you too.. Terribly.” She rose on her toes, as far up as she could go. I felt her thin arms winding around my neck, which made me even more nervous than I already was. “All those lonely nights, in my bed... thinking about you, thinking about being with you… being on your bed, being on you. I’ve missed you, James.”

Shit. There was a big part of my brain that was telling me that she was probably lying. Even in another life, Amelie wasn’t the type of girl to remain a wallflower when she was extremely capable of finding a way to satisfy herself. In other words, if she wanted a new boy toy, there would be absolutely nothing holding her back.

She was feisty; a girl who knew what she wanted, which she made very clear during our relationship.

Lonely nights in bed my ass. She was probably out and about screwing every male with a well functioning penis and a good set of hands.

Her lips suddenly found the side of my neck, kissing and sucking my skin.

And that’s when I loss control.

I knew it was wrong. Every conscious thought in my brain was telling me to ignore the bitch and walk away. She cheated on me after all. After seven months of dating, she went right a head and fucked the Slytherin captain. For all I knew, she’s been cheating on me throughout our entire relationship. I had every reason to shove her away, and tell her to suck one. Unfortunately, my will power was weaker that I would have liked.

Before I could register what was happening, I slammed her against the wall and captured her lips in mine, just like she liked it. Kissing Amelie felt like heaven. Her lips were soft and incredibly plump. Her body was curved perfectly, and her breast—Merlin, I could bury my face in them all day. She was absolutely perfect—bloody beautiful, in fact. Any bloke would be fucking crazy to resist someone like her.

She pushed against the wall and pressed her body close to my own as she kissed me urgently. In turn, I gripped her hips tightly with one hand, while I used the other to unbutton her white, cotton shirt. My hands moved to her ass, gripping and grabbing every part of her I possibly could. I picked her up easily and her legs immediately wrapped around my waist. I began grinding our lower regions together and she moaned softly into my mouth. Fuck, it felt just like old times.

Her hands traveled up and down my chest before they finally rested on the buckle of my trousers. The moment I heard the sound of my belt unbuckling, Victoria suddenly popped into my mind.

Seriously? I was about thirty seconds away from screaming out of frustration. I’m so close to fucking one of the hottest girls in Hogwarts, and she comes into my mind?

I groaned and quickly detached myself from a fevered Amelie. Her feet found their way back to the floor as her chest heaved up and down as she steadied herself against the wall behind her. Her hair was tousled and her lips were red and swollen. Fuck, she looked so damn sexy—no, she looked downright tempting. “What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly, while she reached out to tug on my trousers.

Merlin, I wanted this. I wanted this so badly. But how was I supposed to continue snogging her if I was suddenly thinking about Victoria’s annoying smile, and her obnoxious laugh?

I shook my head, and moved my hands from her body to the wall behind her. Fucking Victoria. Get the fuck out of my head.

Amelie leaned forward and began planting kisses along my collar bone, sucking and biting up my neck before she began nibbling on my earlobe. “James.” She purred in my hear. “What are you waiting for? Come on and fuck me.”

Here she was, practically throwing herself at me. Amelie Elkin; every man’s dream and fantasy.

Fuck Victoria.

I pulled Amelie tighter against me once I threw all thoughts of Victoria out of mind, and began kissing her once more. I smirked in satisfaction once I realized that I finally managed to focus on Amelie, and only on Amelie. My hands roamed across her body, paying close attention to her sultry breast. Her shirt was now discarded on the floor, which was soon joined by my own shirt.

Amelie moaned in pleasure again. “James.” She breathed as I sucked on the junction of her neck and collarbone—the sweet spot that drove her insane. “Oh, James.”

What the fuck?

“James.” She moaned again in the same voice that sounded disgustingly similar to Victoria’s. “Fuck.” She whispered.

Abruptly, I drew back, recoiling my arms back to my sides. Fuck, I was going insane. I could hear Victoria’s voice in my head, calling my name over and over again.

“James?” Amelie asked in a voice that was not her own. For some strange reason, there was a fucking filter in between my ears and my brain that suddenly turned Amelie’s voice into Victoria’s, and it was not going away.

Shit, this girl is driving me mad.

Amelie took a step forward, but I immediately backed away upon impulse. “James what’s wrong?”

I felt like Victoria was standing right in front of me, asking me these very questions even though the only person I saw was Amelie. What in the name of Merlin is going on with me? Amelie was practically throwing herself at me, and here I was, unable to shove Victoria Rose out of my mind.

“We’ll talk later.” I managed to say. I bent down and picked up my shirt off the floor before I carelessly threw it back on. Regretfully, I turned around and walked away, leaving a sexually frustrated Amelie behind.


I spent my walk back to the common room verbally assaulting Victoria in my mind. I was pissed beyond belief and in need of a good shag, which made matters even worse. Once I entered the common room, I found Desmond slouched against the red velvet couch with his History of Magic textbook opened on his lap.

“Did you find Victoria?” he asked immediately.

Why the fuck is everything about Victoria these days? Annoying little bint…

“What are you talking about?” I asked as I collapsed on an empty armchair in front of me. “Where is she?”

Desmond’s curious expression changed in less than a second. “Are you kidding me?” he demanded. “She’s been gone for more than two and a half hours! It’s almost midnight!”

I turned around and glanced at the clock that was perched on the mantle of the fireplace. It was almost eleven-forty five, way past curfew. “Where the hell is she?” I asked, sitting up abruptly.

“I sent you out to look for her!” he growled in response. “Fuck, James. I figured that you’d care about her enough to not let anything happen to her.” He angrily grabbed his wand from the coffee table and quickly strode to the portrait hole.

I dropped my head in my hands and gripped my hair tightly. “How could I forget?” I muttered to myself. I was supposed to look for Victoria. “Fucking Amelie.” I glanced at the clock again. I suddenly felt silly for hoping that the time would suddenly move back.

What if something had happened to her? Not that I cared… I just didn’t want Desmond beating me into a bloody pulp after he finds out that I was responsible for his precious Victoria getting hurt.

Fuck, how could I fuck up like this again?

Several possibilities ran through my mind; half good, half bad. Where the fuck could she be?

I groaned and picked myself up off the armchair, hauling ass out of the common room for about the hundredth time that day.

It’s going to be a long night.


After fifteen minutes of running around the castle, I found myself standing in the middle of the Astronomy tower, staring right at the girl who has caused the majority of my troubles that night. She was perched on the edge of the tower, her head buried in a thick book. Her back was resting against the wall behind her while her wand hovered beside her head, providing the light she needed to read. “Victoria.” I growled angrily.

I wasn’t sure how I found her. After arriving at the third possible location, I guess I had some sort of epiphany. Where did Victoria always run off to whenever no one could find her?

She lifted her head abruptly, most likely out of surprise. “James.” And then she grinned. “Just couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

I shut my eyes tightly, trying my best to compose my anger. She’s been gone for almost three bloody hours, and she has the nerve to be cheeky? “Why the fuck are you up here?” I demanded, completely failing at trying to sound calm.

Victoria looked confused. “Uh… I’m reading.” She answered slowly, holding up her book.

She was reading.

She was reading.

She came all the way up here to fucking read. She couldn’t read in her room? Was there something wrong with her room that prevented her from sitting on her fucking bed to read? Or better yet, if she wanted to read somewhere exciting, then she could have sat by her fucking window. I mean, she already lives in a tower! What more did she want? Having the possibility that if someone pushed her over, she could die? I could make that happen. Merlin, would I love to make that happen.

“Did it not occur to you to inform someone that you’re hiding out in the fucking Astronomy tower so you could read? Do you have any idea what time it is?” I sounded like my father reprimanding Lily whenever she snuck back into her bedroom at one in the morning, but I didn’t care. I was furious (still recovering from that little surprise Amelie sprang on me not more than an hour ago), Desmond was pissed, and it was all her fault. “It’s fucking twelve o’clock, and you’ve got Desmond about to pop a fucking vein!”

I guess I was overreacting.

I knew I was. But here was my chance to let all my anger out.

So I took it. On someone who does not even deserve it.

Like the big, fat asshole that I am.


Maybe she did deserve about a fourth of it.

She was Victoria after all.

“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed irritably, frowning at me. “I didn’t think any one would be worried. It’s not the first time I went missing in the middle of the night.”

I let out a frustrated groan and pinched the bridge of my nose as I shut my eyes tightly. “I’m sorry.” I heard her say softly. “I lost track of time. I was going to come back down at eleven, but—well—like I said, I lost track of time.”

I ignored her apology, and went to sit by the edge against the wall, opposite from Victoria. She watched as I made myself comfortable, and I remained quiet. I wasn’t in the mood to pick another useless fight with her. I was tired, and worn out. Her constant reappearance in my mind turned my fucking world around and it was messing with my head. All I wanted was peace and quiet, and for some strange reason, I was almost positive that I could find it here—here with her.

I sound like a bloody poof, but I was right.

For about twenty minutes, we sat in silence. I scanned the horizon while she read her book quietly. The only sounds that interrupted the blessed silence was the sound of her pages turning against the blue sweater that I recognized belonged to Desmonds.

My eyes left the view before me while I focused on something that, at the moment, was much more interesting. No matter how long I stared at her, she never looked up from the words printed on the page. I sat across from her, simply staring. I came to the conclusion that the only way to hush her up was to shove a book under her nose. It’s like giving a bottle of milk to a baby.

I smiled slightly, and rather unknowingly. I almost forgot that I hated this girl.

I can’t believe I just caught myself smiling as I watched Victoria read.

“Do you come up here often?” I found myself asking, consequently breaking the pregnant silence.

She didn’t lift her head. “When I’ve got a free night, yes.” She answered.

I turned my attention back to the lake below us. It was a beautiful sight. More beautiful than any of the girls’ I’ve encountered in my life. It was probably because nature was innocent and pure, while girls—well.. girls were a completely different story. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” I heard Victoria ask with a voice that was close to a whisper. “Sitting here and doing nothing?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Finally, she looked up and smiled. “You can’t ever be bored just sitting here.”

I smirked at her, but looked away. I turned my head back towards the lake and took in the fading smell of summer.

“What is that?”

My peace was suddenly broken.

I turned back to Victoria, and I saw that she was no longer at peace either. She was currently pointing at me with an atrocious look on her face. “What’s what?” I asked.

“Is that a hickey?” she demanded as she leaned closer to get a better look.

As I remembered Amelie and what we had been doing not more than an hour ago, I scowled and pressed my palm against my neck. “It’s nothing.” I told her, looking down.

Victoria was suddenly on her feet and advancing towards me. She roughly pushed my hand away and examined the side of my neck as if she was my mother. “Who the fuck gave you that?” she questioned furiously, pointing to the dark spot on the side of my neck. “Answer me, Potter. Who the fuck gave you that hickey?”

Her unsteady attitude surprised me. One minute, she was calm and sweet, and the next, she was this obsessive, repugnant monster of a girl. “It’s none of your business.” I snapped.

I picked myself up and made my way to the door, but Victoria beat me to it. Her face was pink, and her eyes were blazed with anger. I could practically see the steam coming from her ears. “Tell me Potter, which slut were you fucking this time?” She demanded. “Some blonde Ravenclaw? Georgie Maults? Felicia Smith? Wait, Potter. Let me guess. I bet you went crawling back to your little whore Amelie, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” I growled in a low, threatening tone.

“I knew it.” She replied. There was a mixture of anger and jealousy in her voice, and it angered me more than I ever thought it would. “How stupid are you, Potter?” she asked, walking closer and closer. “She cheated on you, and with the Slytherin Quidditch captain no less. And when she summons you with a bloody booty call, you fall right back at her feet, like a fucking moron.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” I spat, incredibly furious that she managed to drag Amelie into this conversation. “My fucking mother? No let me guess, you think you’re my girlfriend.” I felt a new found anger rise in my body, bubbling in the pit of my stomach. “Well let me tell you something, Vicky. You’re not my fucking girlfriend, and you never will be. You think that you can just tell me what to do—who I can or cannot hook up with? You’re in no fucking position to judge me, Vicky.”

Her face fell. The moment the last word left my mouth, guilt washed over me, replacing my anger. Her shoulders sagged to its initial state, and her eyes softened. She looked… Merlin, I couldn’t even sort out how she looked. All I knew, was that it made me want to tear my bloody eyes out.

At that moment, the only thing I could feel was guilt. It was as if I had just killed an innocent puppy. As I stared at her face—into her eyes, I realized that I had done it. I had managed to effectively hurt Victoria, and it was eating me away.

I didn’t know what to say. I was angry—Merlin I was angry beyond belief—but then again, there was still that disgusting feeling of guilt that was left in the pit of my stomach. The type of guilt that I, somehow managed to develop after being friends with Desmond for about seven years and counting. I wanted to be angry—shit, I had every right to be. She was being controlling, judgmental and unbelievably annoying, and she wasn’t even my girlfriend. I hated feeling guilty. It was borderline foreign for me. James Potter doesn’t feel guilt. Guilt is subjected to those who care. But then there was those eyes, those fucking puppy dog eyes that slipped over the anger and just… stabbed me right through my fucking heart. It was the same look she had always given Desmond during those rare moments when he managed to make her cry. Fuck, I pray to God that she won’t cry. I can’t deal with the water works. It’s like dealing with a broken water pipe that no one really knows how to fix. So what happens to us? We fucking drown in it.

But before I managed to figure out the next (right, and appropriate) thing to say, she was gone.

I think it’s safe to say that Desmond will kill me.

Victoria Rose

He was right. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t even his bloody friend. I shouldn’t care that his neck was filled with hickeys. I shouldn’t even care that he was snogging other girls. Potter meant nothing to me, and I obviously meant nothing to him.

Soon after Potter left me standing alone in the Astronomy tower, I made my way down the stairs and began walking back to the common room. All in all, I was distraught. I felt guilty and stupid for demanding an answer—an answer that I was not at all entitled to—from Potter, managing to piss him off for about the billionth time in my life. I wasn't even sure where it came from, whether it was out of anger or pure curiosity that just accidentally transcribed into anger. Perhaps it was because anger was the only form of emotion I knew how to express towards him. Regardless, I was out of bounds and I knew it very well.

But there was still a big part of me that couldn’t ignore how badly it hurt to see the mark of another girl on his neck. Arrow or not; after the past week’s events, I felt silly, stupid, ashamed, and any other adjective out there that relates to feeling like a complete and utter moron. I was the girl that had been running around like a silly, love struck teenager (minus all the obnoxiousness and cliché’s), while he was out hooking up with the next long-legged blonde that walked by.

That was James Potter. I knew him very well. Even though we spent the last six years hating each other until our mouths bubbled with it, I knew him. He was every type of dick there was out there. He walked around with his head held high as if he was the king of the entire bloody school and it’s the girls of Hogwarts to thank for all the arrogance pouring from the cracks of his extremely large head. He jokes with his two dimwit friends, flies right by school and snogs anything with boobs and an ass.

Therefore, I knew not to expect anything more from a class A arsehole.

So why did I even come close to hoping that he would stop with his playboy antics just to spare my feelings?

At this point, I wasn't sure what to do. I had the option of either apologizing, or riding it out just like I've always done. Of course, apologizing entailed the diminution of my pride. I wasn’t exactly too fond of that idea. Riding it out seemed like it was my only option. It was an adequate option as well. Potter and I always ended up arguing about something eventually, so silence never merged well with our relationship. It was all good... Right?

So why did I have such a bad feeling about this? Surely this situation wasn’t any different than all the arguments we've found ourselves in. In fact, it was quite similar.

Except for one thing.

One teeny thing that I found unmanageable to overlook.

This time, I was left speechless.


Tyler and Dominique seemed to be the only two people awake when I returned. Thanks to my quiet entrance, neither of them noticed my presence. I slowly entered while I observed them for a short while. Dominique was working on her essay, while Tyler sat beside her, lazily leaning back against the couch. I was surprised to find that his arm was draped across her back while his hands slowly ran itself through her curls.

It was the first time I've ever seen Dominique and Tyler interact in more than a friendly manner. The two looked content; more content than I've seen them in a while. Dominique was slowly humming to herself as she scribbled on her paper, and Tyler sat back and listened with his heart hanging on his sleeve. His affections were as clear as day; anyone form a first year to a teacher would be able to tell that he was irrevocably in love with Dominique Weasley.

What happens when the magic on Tyler's arrow no longer works and he finds himself falling out of love with Dom? What happens if Dom eventually falls in love with him too?

His affections seemed greater than my own. It became clearer and clearer the longer I watched, rooted at the spot. It looked as though he wouldn't—no, he couldn't bear it if even a single hair on her head was hurt.

Why was I able to still get angry at Potter, even after I was shot by an arrow?

In all honesty, no matter how much I appreciated the fact, I found it strange that I wasn't acting like an infatuated teenage girl, indulging herself in the idea of 'first love'. My feelings seemed to be controllable, regardless of the random, disturbing thoughts that related to Potter and my undying affections for him.

"Hey," the voice surprised me, but my body relaxed once I realized it was Desmond standing behind me. "Let's not bother these two lovebirds, yeah?"

I nodded before I followed him up the stairs and into his dorm. I've been in Desmond's dorm several times, so it didn't mean much to me at first. However, Potter, along with our previous argument, suddenly crawled into my mind like a raging ball of fire. Almost instantly, my heart began pounding against my chest as the familiar feeling of anxiety washed over me. My body went rigid, and the strange feeling of both hot and cold swirled through my chest. Would Potter be awake?

Desmond slowly pushed his door open, in attempts to be quiet and discreet. My eyes immediately flew to the spot where I knew Potter's bed was. It was the only bed that had the hangings drawn shut. "He's probably asleep." Des assured me as we stepped over the clothes, books and other objects that littered the floor of his dorm.

I settled myself on his bed, and he drew the hangings closed before casting a silencing charm around it. "Did you and James get into another row?" He asked almost immediately.

I blinked. "Did he tell you?"

Desmond shook his head and smirked. "No. I can tell just by the way you're acting. You were incredibly nervous and jittery while coming up here. Normally, you wouldn't really give a shit, considering you’ve been up here countless of times.”

“Well.. yeah I guess, we kind of did.”

My tone rendered more sadness than I realized since Desmond suddenly sighed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Vicky.”


“I guess I shot you with that arrow out of impulse… I am Cupid, you know?” he said.

“Whatever happened to all those speeches you’ve given me about staying single until the end of time?” I asked curiously while I snuggled closer to his chest. “Making me fall in love with Potter doesn’t exactly help. It’s actually the complete opposite of what you’ve been keeping me from since I’ve known you. James, who is practically the biggest playboy in this school.”

A low chuckle came from his throat. “No, it doesn’t, does it?” he asked contemplatively. “I trust James. He won’t intentionally hurt you.”

“But we hate each other.” I stated dryly.

“No, you love him.” I smacked his arm. “Alright, you used to hate him, but now you love him.”

My face scrunched up with distaste. “Thanks to you, you bloody git.” I growled.

He chuckled again. “I’m sorry Vicky. But you know, James isn’t so bad.”

“So you’re not okay with me dating other boys, but it’s perfectly alright if I fall in love with Potter?” I asked flatly, not understanding his logic. “It’s not like Potter is incapable of hurting me…” I muttered, more to myself than to Desmond. “He’s a smelly git-face.”

“I can’t believe you just called him a smelly git-face.” He said. “You haven’t called someone a smelly git-face since we were eleven.”

“But that’s what he is!” I exclaimed. “It’s the very first insult he’s ever gotten from me.” I paused, suddenly wondering where that piece of memory came from. “I’ve no idea where that came from… I thought I’ve forgotten everything before our third year.”

Desmond laughed. “Did he ever hurt you?”

I fell silent.

“He did, didn’t he?”

“It’s more my fault than it is his.” Before he could press further, I quickly asked him a question that’s been hanging in my mind for days. “Desmond.” I piped. “Why is it that I’m not acting like a love sick fool when I’m around Potter?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe your situation is special. I’ve been wondering that myself.”

“All that changed is that I think about him more… These days it’s been easier to control whatever I do around him. It was more difficult when you first shot me.”

“Oh really?” he asked.

I nodded as I let my eyes shut, suddenly feeling sleepy. “I still love him.. I guess.” And it’s slowly killing me inside out. “But I can control it now. It’s become easier.”

He didn’t reply.



“Will things ever go back to the way they were? Before I ever fell in love with the biggest git on the fact of the planet?”

He chuckled. “Why? Can’t stand being in love with Potter?”

I nodded with a frown on my face.

“Don’t worry Vick. Something tells me that it will wear off before you know it…” he said. “But I can’t assure you that things will go back to the way they were before this whole ordeal happened.”

And that was the last thing I heard before I drifted off into a deep sleep.

A/N: so this just basically completed the previous chapter. i bet you're all hating on jamesssssss. hehe. maybe he'll make up for it and change his ways? maybe not.

by the way- there's been a change in the story. it's nothing major. Lily, Albus and James are not Victoria's neighbors. They met in Hogwarts, that's that. so yeah, kay :P

please review!
love gryffindorgirl :)

Chapter 7: Toothbrushes and Serenading Imbeciles
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Seven

Victoria Rose

“Good morning beautiful.”

Almost instantly, a smile appeared on my face at the sound of his voice. “Mm, morning James.” His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist while he dragged me across the bed, drawing me tightly against his chest. He planted a kiss on the side of my neck as he buried his face in the mess that was my morning hair. “What time is it?” I mumbled against the pillow.

There was a pause as he unwound his arm from my waist.

“Almost eight.” He sighed heavily, and I felt his heavy arm drape across my body once more. “We need to get the kids to the train. It’s Bee’s first year.”

Despite his words, he nestled closer against my back. I could feel his breath tickle the side of my neck, and I could tell by the steadiness that he was on the verge of falling asleep again.

The kids. The kids. The kids have to go to school.

So I groaned and turned around, which was a difficult feat considering I was tightly wrapped in both my husband and our thick duvet. “James.” I whispered once I faced him. His eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly parted. I smiled softly and planted a kiss on his lips. “James.” I whispered again, but received no answer. Another kiss landed on his lips, but this time, I was not able to pull back so quickly.

He suddenly came alive, smirking against me. “James!” I squealed as he rolled us over so that I was no hovering above him. “The kids need to get to school.” I reminded him.

Regardless, he leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. “I love you.” He mumbled. I felt his lips moving sensually against mine as he spoke, leaving me utterly and completely breathless. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

I smiled and kissed him back.

All too soon, James pulled away. His light-hearted face soon turned serious. “Victoria.” He said, his voice no longer a whisper. “Victoria.” He repeated.

“James, what is it?”

“Victoria.” He repeated, his eyes wide as saucers. “Victoria!” he began shouting. “Victoria!”

“What is it, James?” I questioned frantically, thinking that he was having some sort of seizure. “James?”

“Victoria!” he shouted once more.

“James, what’s going on?”

“Merlin, Victoria!”


I shot up quickly, which wasn’t a very good idea at all. Before I even managed to pull myself into an upright position, my head collided with something hard and loud. “Argh! Victoria!”

Desmond was sitting on the edge of the bed while he clutched his swelling forehead. There was a towel wrapped around his waist, and he was very naked. Ugh. It wasn’t exactly the first thing I favored waking up to.

“Desmond!” I cried. “What the bloody hell are you doing in my dorm?” I demanded. “Holy shit did you sleep here? I bet you were with Layla last night. Merlin’s beard, you were with Layla last night!” I shouted with eyes as big as saucers.

He rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead once more before he let his hand drop back down to his side. “You’re in my dorm.” He informed me dryly. “You fell asleep here last night, remember?”

I blinked and looked down as I tried to recall last nights’ events. “Oh… right.”

“Looks like you were having an interesting dream.” he smirked.

Shit. He bloody smirked. That means I was talking in my sleep again. Fuck my life.

“Er.. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” I squeaked.

He laughed. “Yeah, okay.” He said sarcastically before he stood up and strode to the dresser across the room. He pulled out a white school shirt and threw it over his shoulders carelessly.

“Isn’t that James’ shirt?” I asked slowly. It was James’ dresser after all.

Desmond shrugged. “He’s been stealing my clothes all week. Most of mine are dirty, so what the hay.”

I nodded, not really caring about what Desmond was saying. I laid back against the bed, and was about to pull the duvet over my head before I heard a scream. A rather girly scream.

For the second time that morning, I shot out of bed only to find Tyler standing before me wearing nothing but a towel with a toothbrush dangling from his lips.

“It’s a girl!” he exclaimed stupidly, pointing at me with his forefinger. “In Desmond’s bed!” he added. Then he blinked and squinted. “Oh.” Did he finally realize that he was the biggest imbecile in Hogwarts? “Never mind, it’s just you, Vicky.”

“I resent that.” I grumbled under my breath. “Why are you guys up so early? It’s not even six yet.” I turned to the right, and squinted my eyes at the clock on Desmond’s side table. “No, scratch that, it’s not even five yet. What the fuck?” I asked in confusion.

What is this monstrosity? UP BEFORE FIVE O’CLOCK?

This is not acceptable.

“Do you dolts know how to read a clock?” I asked spitefully, throwing the analog clock towards Tyler.

A pillow was suddenly thrown into my face as one of the two idiots walked by me. “There’s Quidditch practice.” Desmond, the culprit of the flying pillow, informed me as he walked past his bed and into the bathroom.

“Uh, no there’s not.”

“Uh, yes there is.”

“No, there’s not.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Shut up, Desmond. There’s no fucking practice. It’s four in the fucking morning.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “You really need to start paying attention during practices, Vicky.”

From the edge of his bed, I glowered at him. I was not a morning person. I was definitely not a morning person—not that it’s a difficult fact to piece together. Especially not when someone interrupts my incredibly wonderful dream about Potter.

After I let out a loud, frustrated cry, I heaved myself out of bed and trudged my way to the bathroom. “I hate you all.” I muttered.

I never exactly made it into the bathroom, for a familiar looking chest collided into my body, causing me to stumble backwards slightly. I growled.

A low rumble that sounded a lot like laughter caught my attention. “Did you just growl?”

I looked up, and found Potter smirking down at me. “Nice hair, Vicky.” He commented patronizingly.

“Nice… nice…” Fuck, everything about Potter was just bloody perfect that I couldn’t even think of an acceptable retort. “Nice face!”

Way to go, girlie.

If possible, his smirk grew wider. “You better get dressed. You wouldn’t want to be late for practice.”

How could he possibly act as though last night had never happened?

“Why is there practice again?” I asked. “Wasn’t yesterday’s practice enough for you?”

His smirk grew wider. “We need to train if we want to keep up our winning streak.”

“Ugh.” I groaned, and walked around him before I heaved my body into the bathroom.

I opened the medicine cabinet, and grabbed the only pink toothbrush on the stand. Desmond found it necessary to keep an extra toothbrush for me in his dorm, since I always managed to fall asleep on his bed.

After I squirted a nice amount of toothpaste on the bristles, I pushed the brush into my mouth and began vigorously scrubbing. I stared at myself in the mirror, and noticed that I was no longer wearing my school uniform. Instead, I was wearing one of Desmond’s old shirts that fell around mid-thigh. My hair, which was usually a giant puff ball when I awoke, was strangely tamed, falling in loose curls down my back.

I wonder what James thought when he saw me this morning…

Ugh. Potter.

Get out of my head, Potter.

Get out of my bloody head.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

I abruptly stopped brushing, and stared at my reflection in the mirror with wide eyes. I had a dream about Potter.

I had a nice dream about Potter.

He was my husband.

And I was his wife.

And we had kids.


Which implied more than one.

And one of them was named Bree.

And it was her first year at Hogwarts.

And we were sleeping on the same bed.

And he kissed me.

And he said he loved me.

He fucking loved me.

What the fuck.

“UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH” I let out a frustrated cry.

Fuck my emotions.

They weren’t even real.

The door promptly burst open, and three guys, clad in only white fluffy towels, stuck their heads inside. “What?” Tyler immediately asked as his eyes quickly scanned the bathroom.

Yes, because a pain-inflicting perpetrator could really hide in a tiny bathroom such as this.

“What’s wrong?” Desmond questioned, his voice sounding panicked.

“Why did you scream?” Potter, who still had his toothbrush in his mouth, asked.

Because you annoy the living hell out of me, why do you think, you dimwit?

“I didn’t even do anything.” He stated dumbly.

I didn’t realize I said that part out loud.

“Sorry. Just.. er… frustrated.” I answered, as equally as dumb as Potter’s previous statement.

He then lifted a hand and pointed it on my chin. “You got a bit something there..”

“It’s toothpaste, you dolt.”

“It’s kind of dripping…”

I rolled my eyes, and turned back to the sink and spat the contents of my mouth.

“So.. you’re alright?” Desmond asked slowly as if he still wasn’t convinced.

“No, Des. There is an evil being overtaking my mind at this very moment, and any second now, I could loose my very soul to the god of the underworld, which would then me his prisoner forever.” I was standing in his bathroom, wearing his clothes and brushing my teeth. What could possibly happen to me?

He rolled his eyes exasperatedly and turned around, disappearing from view.

“Where the hell does she get these stories?” Tyler muttered to himself, following suit after Desmond.

Potter, however, did not leave. He walked into the small space of the bathroom and began brushing his teeth beside me.

I stared at him for a while, before I turned to face the mirror and began brushing my teeth as well.

Ugh I hated Potter.

And loved him all at the same time.

I still don’t see how it’s possible for a person to have two very conflicting and contradicting feelings harboring in their chest. I’m currently living the whole show, and I still can’t understand it.

I felt the toothpaste overflowing in my mouth once more, so I bent forward to spit it out. However, I wasn’t the only one who had their mouth overflowing with toothpaste.

Potter chose the same, exact moment to bend over the small sink and spit as well.

So the inevitable happed.

Our heads collided.

Pretty hard, in fact.

“Ouch!” I cried.

“Mmm!” was his muffled cry of pain.

I felt his body weight fall on the right side of my body. “Ugh Potter.” I groaned and pushed back, trying to get him away from me.

Let’s take a little Physics lesson, shall we?

What happens when a force is exerted on any object? It exerts the same amount of force back.

Or in James Potter’s case, it exerts an even greater force.

He bumped me with his left hip, shoving me into the wall on my left side.

I turned to glare at him. Biting down on the toothbrush in my mouth to keep it in place, I pressed both my hands against his arm and roughly shoved him away.

As he continued brushing his teeth, Potter reached out one arm and pressed his large hand against my head, roughly shoving it away with greater force.

Before I could even retaliate, Potter reached out his arm again and pressed it against my head so that he was able to keep me at a safe distance. Considering the length of his arm, I was unable to reach any other part of his body, no matter how much or how far I reached forward. I felt helpless under his hold, but he was slowly pushing my buttons.

Both Potter and I heard the bathroom door open once more, causing us both to turn around.

Well.. this must have been an interesting sight for Desmond.

Here we were—Potter, half naked with a towel around his waist, and I, wearing Desmond’s old clothes—standing in their small bathroom, brushing our teeth, fighting like immature children as we stared at them like a deer under a pair of headlights.

“Whut?” Potter asked with a mouth full of toothpaste, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

For the second time that morning, Desmond walked away from the bathroom, shaking his head and sighing heavily.


“So how was practice?” Dominique asked while she flipped through the pages of the daily prophet. “Horrible, I’m guessing?”

“Your idiotic cousin made me run laps again.” I grumbled into my breakfast.

“But you love him anyway.” Layla added with a grin on her face.

I turned to glare at her, but she gave me a simple, cheeky grin.

“So where are the boys?” Dominique asked. “I’m surprised that they’re not here already, eating anything they can get their hands on.”

Layla shrugged. “Not sure.” She answered. “But Desmond did say something about going back to the common room to look for the cloak. . .”

“You saw him before breakfast?” Dom asked suddenly. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who managed to pick something up.

A light pink blush rose to Layla’s cheeks. “He kind of walked me down here.”

“So that’s why you left first!” I exclaimed as I pointed my fork at her incriminatingly.

“There’s no need to make a big deal out of this!” Layla interjected immediately, successfully stopping all flowing thoughts of Layla and Desmond getting married and having babies together. “It’s just a friend walking another friend to breakfast, nothing more.” She explained. “Nothing more. Knowing you two, I’m sure that both of you are already coming to impossible conclusions.”

Dom smirked. “I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Layla dear.”

“There’s nothing impossible about what we’re thinking of.” I added, smirking as well.

For the first time in days, joking around with my two best friends made me feel like everything was okay again—that everything was back to normal, and I was average Victoria, the girl who hated James Potter with a burning passion.

I even managed to forget about Potter.

Well, until now that is.

“Shut up!” Layla shouted, reaching over to slap me from across the table. “You guys are ridiculous.” She muttered.

In response, both Dominique and I broke into uncontrollable laughter. I wasn’t exactly sure as to what we were laughing at, and I’m sure neither was Dominique. But we were having fun, and we weren’t about to pass this up.

“Dom!” All three of us turned to find a tall, slim redhead running towards us with an excited look on her face. She immediately sat beside Dominique, setting a stack of what looked like pictures in front of her. “Have you seen these yet?” she asked with a large smile on her face. “Lucy is so lucky!” Rose then lifted her gaze, noticing that there were two other people sitting with Dominique. “Oh, hey guys.” She grinned.

“Sup, Rose?” Layla and I chorused.

However, before she could even answer, Dominique began squealing over the pictures in her hands. “Holy crap is this her husband?” she asked with Layla looking over her shoulder.

Rose nodded animatedly. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she asked in a dreamy voice. “They met in Prague, about a year ago. I met him a couple of times when Luce brought him home for the Holidays. Nana Weasley practically adores him, but Uncle Percy is a bit hesitant about allowing them to marry.”

“But they married regardless, right?” Dom asked, flipping through the pictures. “Out of no where too. In… hang on… is this Verona?”

“What? Lucy got married in Verona?” I asked curiously, grabbing some of the pictures from Dominique. “So she practically eloped?”

“Well, her parents knew that they were going to get married, but there was already a set date, which is was sometime next summer. They married about a year early.” Rose answered. “But it was so romantic! Molly told me all about it yesterday. She still can’t believe that her younger sister married before she did.”

I smiled as I came upon a picture of a familiar redhead wrapped in the arms of a gorgeous, tall brunette man. “He is rather gorgeous.” I commented, flipping to the next picture. “Their wedding looks amazing.”

Rose nodded. “Molly, Victoire and Teddy were the only one’s who knew about it. They flew in as soon as they found out.”

“I bet the entire family is making a fuss about how they weren’t even invited.” Dom snickered.

“You bet they are.” Rose replied. “Dad won’t shut up about how the bloke can’t be trusted.”

The sound of owls hooting filled our ears. “Mail’s here.” Layla announced as all our heads turned towards the ceiling.

Several packages, letters and rolled up newspapers dropped on several plates as the owls swooped across the Great Hall. It wasn’t really anything new.

Unless you counted the several packages that plummeted towards us from the ceiling—at least two dozen owls showering Dominique with dark, red rose petals; a large bouquet of dark, red roses dropping on her plate; a rather large box wrapped in gold lace landing somewhere by the stems of the bouquet; and four laced-wrapped envelopes surrounded by floating glitter and shine planted in front of Dominique, Layla, Rose and I—then yup, it was a normal, average morning at Hogwarts.

Except it really wasn’t.

“What the ruddy hell is all this?” Dom demanded as she shook any excess rose petals that fell on her hair. “Has Victoire gone mad?”

Layla’s eyes scanned the surface of the table before she slowly shook her head and said, “I don’t think it’s Victoire who’s doing this.” She pulled out the large bouquet of roses from under the large box, setting it on top. Now that the roses were not coming at any of us, we all had the chance to see that they were covered in small—very real, mind you—water droplets that seem to be permanently attatched to the petals. Each time Layla shook it off, more appeared.

I pulled off the card tied against the stems by a red velvet ribbon. “There’s a card.” I told Dominique. “It’s..” I opened it and was completely surprised once the handwriting of the culprit was revealed. “It’s.. It’s from Tyler.”

“What?” Dominique exclaimed as she suddenly dropped the letter in her hand and pulled the card from my grasp. “You’re joking.” She breathed.

“What does it say?” Layla asked curiously as she leaned over Dominique’s shoulder to read along.

“Tyler?” Rose asked as she took the bouquet in her hands, surveying it. “Tyler Callahan? The boy Lily has had a crush on since we were little children?”

I chuckled, remembering Lily’s school girl crush on her older brother’s best friend. “That’s him.” I answered, smiling.

“I didn’t even know he was into her!” Rose exclaimed. “Since when did this happen?”

I shrugged. “It’s a bit of a long story.” I was in no position to explain to Rose the real reason as to why Tyler was suddenly showing immense interest in Dominique. “Let’s just say… he was hit with it rather unexpectedly.”

“Talk about spontaneity.” She muttered under her breath. Once Dominique fell quiet, Rose grabbed the card from her hands and began reading it out loud. “My dearest Dominique. Not a minute passed by the other night when you weren’t on my mind. Unfortunately, I could not find flowers beautiful enough to match yours, but I hope these did the trick. Please do me the honor of joining me for lunch out by the lake this afternoon after classes. Love, Tyler.”

“Well color me happy.” I breathed. “Tyler Callahan is a closet romantic!”

Who would have thought, that one of the largest playboys in Hogwarts actually knew how to be romantic?

“That is so bloody sweet.” Rose commented as she reached for a piece of toast. “None of my boyfriends ever bothered doing anything like that for me.”

Ignoring Rose’s comment, I shifted my eyes to Dominique and realized that she was still silent. “Dom?” I spoke, getting her attention. “You okay?”

It was strange for such a loud, eccentric girl such as Dominique to fall into silence.

“Yep.” She said, popping the ‘p’. “Just fine and dandy.”

I wasn’t sure if I should ask further. Layla and I glanced at each other, silently debating over whether to let the matter rest, or to press further until the little blonde in front of us cracked. Eventually, we both decided to push the matter aside until she seemed to be in a mood well enough to be messed with just a teensy bit.

“So what’s in the box?” asked Layla, nodding at the large box in the middle of the table.

“Holy cow, is this what I think this is?” Dom suddenly asked, turning to rose as she held up the white, gold laced envelope. “Oh my Merlin!”

She ripped the envelope opened, and suddenly squealed in an uncommonly high pitch. I had to resort to pressing my palms against my hears to shield them of the monstrous sound. “What the hell, Dom!”

“Look!” she exclaimed excitedly as she shoved the contents of the envelope in my face.

It was a wedding invitation.

A bloody beautiful wedding invitation.

You are, hereby, cordially invited to
The union of Theodore Lupin & Victoire Weasley

They were finally getting married!

“They’re finally getting married!” I squealed as excitedly as Dom had. “Did we all get one?” I asked, looking around the table. I found the same, beautifully decorated envelope sitting on my plate.

“Yes ma’am.” Layla answered, holding hers up as she slowly ripped it open, careful not to completely ruin the paper.

I hope she knows that wizard invitations repair themselves upon opening.

Oh well. She’ll figure it out.

“Holy mother of Merlin!” she exclaimed. “Did you guys know that these things automatically repair themselves if you’ve ruined them?” she looked at the piece of paper in her hand as if it were God.

Dominique ignored her and began tearing the large box apart. “It’s my maid of honor’s dress!” she shouted.

From beside her, Rose grinned. “This is going to be one kick ass wedding.” Her grin slowly turned into a sly, devilish smirk.

Soon, Dominique joined the smirk club, putting on one of her own. “Of course it will be, my darling Rosie. This is Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley we’re talking about. My big sissy always knew how to throw a party, and Ted—sweet, innocent, Teddy—he knows where to get the goods. I mean, c’mon!” she shouted excitedly, throwing her fists in the air.

Haha, crazy Dom moment!

“They’re fucking legends! Next to the Marauders of course. They went down in Hogwarts History!”

Another story for another day, my friends.


The girls—okay, DOMINIQUE—calmed down from their hype one breakfast was over. Unfortunately, it was not completely gone while we made our way to our first class of the day. Potions.

To sum it all up and save you all a really bad explanation—you just had to be there—of my ridiculous morning, the girls—including Rose—and I, well, we were just a shit full of giggles. I felt like I was walking to potions wasted.

Once we arrived at the entrance, we found Desmond, James and Tyler standing before a group of Ravenclaw girls in our year. Desmond was.. well he was being kind, innocent, polite Desmond. Tyler, since he was conveniently in love with Dominique, had the decency to at least look like he wasn’t flirting. On the other hand, Potter—well, fuck, Potter was a pig.

His hands were pressed against the wall beside one of the blonde girls’ heads. His other hand was twirling a strange of fake, blonde hair between his fingers while his lips played out a knee-weakening, dimple-filled smile.

I think I just growled under my breath as we entered the room.

Dominique sighed. “Ignore my cousin.” She told me as she soothingly stroked my arm. “He’ll come around eventually.”

I ignored Dominique, knowing that whatever any one else did, Potter will never change.

“Morning, Rose.”

I was surprised to be graced with Potter’s heinous presence so quickly. I figured that he would have wanted to play with the blonde some more. Looks like he already got bored.


Typical Potter.

“Hello.” Was all I said.

I felt him give me a strange look, but I forced my eyes to focus on the potion written on the board. Although it was extremely difficult and—dammit, let’s face it—just down right impossible to push Potter out of my thoughts, I managed to focus on the instructions listed on the board. I swear, it took every ounce of brain power to do that.

Glancing towards Potter, I found that he was lazily doodling on his parchment. He was slouched back against his stool, as if he didn’t give a care in the world.

So I stood up, knowing that he wouldn’t get off his fat arse even if I begged.

Which I would never, ever do, by the way.

“Where are you going?” I heard him ask suddenly.

I turned around, and this time, it was me who gave him a strange look. “I’m going to get the ingredients.” I answer flatly.

He blinked. “Oh. Er, I guess I’ll get the cauldron started then.” he said awkwardly as he got up to his feet.

“You do that, Potter.”

I could have been imagining things. I probably was. Because there was absolutely no way that this could be happening in real life. Maybe in a dream, sure. Anything was possible. But this was not a dream. This was Potions class, and it was very real. So why do I get the feeling that Potter is slowly walking on eggshells around me? It was as if he was afraid of doing something wrong.

We worked harmoniously for the rest of the period. Surprising, eh?

He chopped up the ingredients, while I stirred the potion and slowly began adding them in according to the instructions on the board. Not once did we bicker.

Not once.

It was actually starting to scare me.

I expected Potter to kick back his seat and lounge back with his feet on the desk while he allowed me to do the work. “Potions help woman with her duties in the kitchens!” he would always say.

But what is this? James Potter with a knife in his hand, currently chopping up lizard tails?

I must be hallucinating.

“You alright?” Potter asked me suddenly.

“Stir clockwise five times.” I muttered underneath my breath. “One, two, three,” I counted in order to keep track of my stir count. “I’m just dandy.” I finally answered.

What’s with the sudden concern?

He looked up at me while he continued crushing the dried up beetle’s on the chopping board. “You’re rather… tame today.”

“I’m not a pet, Potter.” I told him flatly as I counted my counter-clockwise stir. Fourteen.

He shrugged and pushed the crushed beetle’s towards me. “It’s just strange.” he said, putting it simply. “Just saying.”

“I’m just tired.” I tell him.

Keep your eyes on the potion, Victoria. James is only asking because he’s being a prat about it. He wants to get under your skin, and you’re making it hard for him. Which is a good thing! So keep your head in the game, and all will be right in the world. Focus, girl. Focus, Victoria. Don’t look at James. Don’t look at James. Don’t look at James.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, breaking my train of thought.

“Shit, I forgot how much I added.” I cursed as my fingered trailed over one of the remaining three crushed beetles.

“You added two.” He answered.

“Oh.” So I continued squeezing the juice of the beetle as best as I could while I tried to avoid Potter as best as I could.

It was the best for me.

I knew it.

“Don’t make me tell Desmond that there’s something wrong with you.”

“I’m fine, Potter.”

He sighed. “Whatever you say.”

We remain silent for the rest of the hour.

At the end of class, before I could even reach over and put a sample of our potion into a vial to be graded, Potter was already striding across the room with our potion in his hand.

This boy was just a bucketful of surprises today, isn’t he?

While he was gone, I took my chance.

I left before Potter returned to his seat.

Before I could even think about satisfying the annoyingly insatiable urge to be with him.

Yes I know it’s an oxymoron.

But hey.

Life is one, giant contradiction.

Or so I've heard.


“Feels good to skip class, doesn’t it?” Dom asked in a very I-told-you-so manner.

After she finally convinced Layla and I to skive History of Magic, we ended up hiding out in the Room of Requirements. A large, queen bed was placed against the walls while trays and trays full of chocolate and candy surrounded us. After we chose our favorite kind, we settled on the bed, lying with our heads clustered together on the center.

“I feel very guilty right now.” Layla answered before she reached forward and blindly grabbed a piece of gummy flobbleworm from the dish. She popped it into her mouth. “But yes, it does feel rather liberating. I feel badass for skiving class. I should do this more often.”

“Dom, you’re a bad influence on Layla! It’s on your hands if she turns into an evil hoe bag.” I exclaimed.

“Now all you need is a hot get up with high heels. You have the feel for the strut, all you have to do is show of your goodies. Before you know it, you’ll have all the boys of Hogwarts drooling at your feet.” Dom grinned. “Damn, Desmond won’t ever be able to resist you—Cupid, or not.”

I giggled and took a piece of white chocolate from the tray resting on my stomach. “I know our little Cupid has a weakness for leather and black lace.”

“You guys are dimwits!” Layla spat snidely, but a laugh caused her bitchy exterior to disintegrate. “I am not interested in Desmond, if that’s what you two are insinuating.”

“Puh-lease, Layla.” Dom scoffed. “There’s practically a sign on your forehead when you’re around him that says ‘fuck me now’.”

“I’ve known the guy since we were kids!” she retorted. “It’d be a bit weird if I suddenly fancied him, now wouldn’t it?”

“That’s not weird at all, Layla.” I inserted. “In fact, I’ve been having a little feeling about you two since we were eleven. All those shy glances, and that little pink twinge that rises to your cheeks when he does something as simple as smile at you.” My face broke out into a smile by the time I was done speaking. The whole situation was just so bloody adorable.

Layla buried her face deeper into her pillow. “You guys are unbelievable.” She muttered. “Since we’re on the topic of boys…” she slowly turned towards Dominique. I knew exactly where she was going with this.

“What?” Dom asked, playing the ‘innocent’ card.

“You and Tyler.” I stated bluntly.

She blinked. “What about Tyler and me?”

Layla sighed as she rolled to her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. “Don’t play dumb with me, Dominique Weasley. I know that he’s just been hit by an arrow, but there’s something bubbling underneath the surface between the two of you.” She said, pointing a finger towards Dominique. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I know that there’s something.”

“Don’t be silly.” Dom replied. “Tyler’s an arse. He’s only acting like he’s in love with me because he’s been struck by Cupids Arrow.” She grumbled.

“Tyler is a sweetheart.” I commented.

Dom scoffed. “You may think so. But he’s an arsehole, and he’s a player. Those two characteristics don’t exactly make the best combination.”

“You don’t feel the least bit flattered by everything he’s been doing for you?” Layla asked.

“Flattery and fancying are two different things.” Dom answered.

Throughout their entire conversation—one that I managed to drift away from—I couldn’t help but remember seeing Dominique and Tyler in the common room the night before. She was at peace, and so was he. They were nothing like Potter and I. They were like earth and water; two elements that can coexist harmoniously. Potter and I on the other hand, we were like fire and ice; we are just too different.

“Maybe you should give hi—”

In the midst of Layla’s sentence, our attentions were captured by a melody—was that a guitar?—coming from behind the door of the room of requirements. It was a familiar song, most likely a song by a muggle, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Layla was the first off the bed. She straightened out her skirt, but left her cloak and shoes by the foot of the bed before she began walking towards the door. Dominique and I sat up on the bed as we watched her inspect the corridor.

Layla gasped. Dom immediately jumped off the bed and ran after her, leaving her shoes behind as well. I was almost close to telling her to fix herself up since she looked… well she looked downright slutty in a skirt that was hiked up too far and a shirt that was buttoned too low.

So I did the sensible thing to make up for both Layla and Dominique. I slipped on my shoes and hastily threw my cloak over my shoulders before I ran after them.

What I saw shocked me to bits.

Here we were, having a nice, normal girls day away from lessons and all things relating to Gryffindor boys.

Along comes Tyler, with his acoustic guitar, serenading Dominique outside of the Room of Requirements while at least fifty other students stood around to watch.

“Hi,” he began singing. “Girl you just caught my eye,”

By chance! I knew that it was familiar.

“Thought I should give it a try, and get your name and your number, go grab some lunch and eat cucumbers.” He continued with a stupid smirk playing on his lips. “Why did I say that? I don’t know why.” He shook his head. “But you’re smiling and it’s something I like on your face, yeah it suits you, girl we connect like we have Bluetooth.”

“Holy mother of butterflies.” Layla whispered, dumbfounded as she glued her eyes onto Tyler. “He’s singing.”

“He’s singing well.” I added, completely staggered myself.

From the other side of the circle that has formed around the serenading Gryffindor boy, I found Desmond leaning against the wall as he laughed and shook his head at the same time. I had a feeling that he attempted, once or twice, to talk Tyler out of making a complete fool of himself.

Obviously, it didn’t work as well as he hoped it would.

“I don’t know why I’m drawn to you, could you be the other one so we’d equal two?” he continued singing, walking closer and closer to Dominique.

I could spot at least thirty girls fainting on the spot as they watched Tyler sing to the girl he was currently in love with. About half of those thirty girls probably want to strangle Dominique with all they have in their body for being the luckiest girl in the world.

“And this is all based on a lucky chance, that you would rather add than subtract.” Girls were practically swooning at this point.

Except Dominique of course.

Her mouth was just hanging open.

Somehow, for some unfathomable reason, I found Potter lingering beside me in the midst of the mess that washed over the corridor. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked indifferent—a bit too indifferent—as he watched his best mate serenade his cousin.

I turned back to Tyler once I felt the familiar feeling of swooning at the sight of Potter. It was atrocious. My stomach suddenly transfigured into a bucketful of butterflies that would not stop fluttering—as if their bloody lives depended on it. It made me feel queasy, yet exuberant all at the same time. I wanted to be near him—more near than I already was. I wanted to be with him, I wanted everything to do with him. I was head over heels with him, and I couldn’t even control it. My palms were starting to sweat, and a mixture of anxiety and nervousness washed over me. It was a strange combination—one that made me both hot and cold; angry and happy. Everything was a fucking contradiction lately, and it was driving me mad. The muscle on my jaw was fighting back a smile, which I tried to cover by shaking my hair to cover part of my face. I felt ridiculous for getting excited because I was standing beside a boy I fancied.

God, I felt like a little school girl with a crush who never gave her the time of day.

It was disgusting.

So I did what I always find acceptable in situations such as these.

I walk away.

And it took every ounce of will power in my being.

I hated feeling as if my entire chest was open for the entire world to see, with my insides gushing out on the cold, stone floor. No one really cares.

So why bother.

James Potter

My idiot mate decided to go serenade the love of his life (or so he says) outside of the Room of Requirements. Desmond and I spent about a whole twenty minutes trying to convince him to do otherwise. I’ve learned (the hard way) that no one can mess with a bloke in love. Not even his best mates. I shall remember that for the future before Tyler lands another punch in my gut.

He managed to beat Louis’ guitar out of his hands before he attracted a large crowd, mainly from the common room. Unfortunately, those nosey little buggers brought there friends. There were at least fifty people standing in front of the entrance of a room that a least seventy-five percent of them did not know about, while they watched Tyler pull his (surprisingly impressive) guitar skills out of his arse to play some muggle song Lily introduced him to about a year ago.

Why were the girls even in the Room of Requirements? Thanks to them, the whole idea of this sacred room being a secret, is now blown! But I guess that this setting was best… If they had gone to class like they were supposed to, Tyler would have probably landed his stubborn arse a detention while successfully dragging both Des and I down along with him (like he always manages to do).

I wasn’t sure what to think of this situation. Tyler was singing and playing the guitar at the same time, while Dom (who came out of that room looking like a tramp) stood before him and watched with her mouth wide open.

I think it’s safe to say that Tyler accomplished his goal to surprise her.

Why was this boy so head over heels for a girl he could barely stand not a week ago? I’ve known him since we were eleven years old. We went through puberty together. He’s not the ‘one woman man’ type of bloke. He believes in dating multiple girls at once, and lots of them. Now, all of a sudden, because of a stupid arrow that came from a stupid Cupid, he was dropping his previous life and going out of his way to please my bratty (but I love her anyway) cousin?

What has the world come to?

I think I know why Cupids were hunted to near extinction.

The crowd went wild, mostly because the majority of the crowd was girls. They pushed and shoved, and somehow, I found Victoria standing by my side. Her eyes were glued on both Tyler and Dominique, so I—with no idea why—ran my eyes over her body.

Her skirt was askew, slightly riding up her thigh and settling closer to her hip, which gave me a delicious view of her long legs. (It was nothing new. I’ve seen them several times. I’ve also seen—I’ve been wrapped in a better pair). Her shirt was unbuttoned up to her chest, which, considering his short stature, gave me a nice view of her b—

She suddenly turned in my direction. Blaring alarms went off in my brain as I felt idiotic for allowing myself to check her out (for about the four thousandth time in my life), and I immediately snapped my head back towards Tyler, putting on a (hopefully) cold expression on my face.

I am James Potter.

Cold as ice.

At least towards Victoria, I was.

I felt her eyes on me, but I paid no attention to her. Tyler was still singing and girls were still swooning at his feet. I think I saw one drooling a couple of minutes ago…

Through my peripheral vision, I saw Victoria moving. Like magnets, my eyes shifted towards her as she shook her hair in front of her face. Hang on… was she smiling? I wanted to get a closer look—what could she possibly be smiling about? And why hide it? I think Victoria has officially gone mad—but there were too many things stopping me. I wasn’t going to let Victoria turn me into something I wasn’t.

James Sirius Potter definitely doesn’t sway towards cuteness.

No matter how cute the girl may be.

There are only four types of categories girls may fall in. Those you want to fuck, those that you will never, ever fuck in your entire life, those that are clingy and obsessive after one snog, and those that will only ever be good for a random quickie in the corridors.

Oh, and those that make great sandwiches.

Yup. There are only five.

There’s no such thing as ‘cute girl that I would love to screw/snog/do anything with other than feed her to my baby sister’.

At least not in my books there wasn’t.

As the song came to an end, I watched Tyler approach Dominique slowly as he removed the guitar strapped onto his shoulder. Her mouth was still slightly opened, which wasn’t a very attractive look for Dominique. She was probably at a loss for words, haha, well, it’s not like she had a choice. Because Tyler kissed her, making her irrevocably speechless.

For the moment that is.

My best mate and my cousin. Merlin, it was too weird. It was almost like watching a dog make with a cat. It’s just something that doesn’t work out. Half of me wanted to beat Tyler until his brain burst through his ears, while the other half remained calm, only because I knew this wasn’t his fault.

It was Desmonds.

But I couldn’t beat Desmond until he bled because he a Cupid and he could probably shoot me with fifty arrows, which outweighs any amount of punches I can throw.

Any further arguments are invalid.

All I could do was let it happen and just pray to Merlin that I won’t have to resort to killing my best mate for breaking my cousin’s heart.

I sighed while I ran my hand through my hair, and impulsively turned towards Victoria.

She was gone.


I have absolutely no idea where I’m going.

The crowd thinned out once Tyler and Dom began snogging as if breathing wasn’t a factor in the process of living. Everyone eventually disappeared by the time they realized that the snogging wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Desmond and Layla disappeared with the rest of the crowd, so I was left wandering around.. again.

I’m doing a lot of wandering around lately. I feel like a bloody poof who likes taking long walks around the bloody castle, looking at nothing but stone walls and rude, moving paintings, in order to sort out their thoughts and look into their feelings.

But in all honesty, I had absolutely no clue where I was going. Considering the amount of times Desmond, Tyler and I roamed around the castle, I expected to know all the kinks and turns to the corridors. Obviously I didn’t. Because I was lost. And Desmond had the map.

I took a right turn somewhere, and then another, and now, I’m in a corridor that I’ve never seen before, looking at paintings that I’ve never met before.

The paintings didn’t really matter much to me. They were all rude motherfuc—


My head swiveled around so fast, I almost got whiplash.

Victoria was standing under a high window at the end of the corridor. The ends of her cloak had fallen behind her legs, giving me an amazing view. She was staring outside, watching the rain hit the glass like pellets. I found it unfortunate that I couldn’t see her face. I was standing too far away.

So I began to walk closer, out of pure curiosity and boredom.

And I was lost.

I was close to calling out her name, before a bloke came running from the adjoining corridor to her left. “Austin.” I heard Victoria’s voice. She sounded cheerful. “What brings you here?” she asked.

The rest of their conversation was lost in the mess of my own head. My eyes were focused on the boy standing in front of her. He was doing that stupid ‘kick anything on the ground with the tip of your shoe while your hands are in your pockets to try and look ‘cool’ and ‘nervous’ at the same time’. It was stupid, and dumb, and if they had any respect for themselves, they just should not do it ever again. It was made for shy morons who can’t find their own balls fast enough to ask a girl out.

My face turned into a scowl. He was smiling at her, and she was smiling at him. I could tell he was trying his best to get a flirty smile going for him—I knew the smile very well. It was the smile I used when I tried to bed sexy Ravenclaws. It worked better for me than it ever would for this bloke.

Who was he anyway?

“Victoria!” I shouted. “Oi, Victoria!”

What. The. Fuck. James.

What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You’re. doing.

Before I knew it, I found myself calling her over. I wasn’t sure where I was going with this. I spoke completely on impulse, and I didn’t know how to take it back. It was like word vomit—you can’t take back vomit, can you?

Victoria turned to look at me. Her face looked confused, and (since I had no other choice) I simply beckoned her over, trying my best to fit into my ‘Strict Quidditch Captain’ demeanor.

“What?” she called back, not moving from her spot by the window—beside the moronic bloke. I bet he was a Hufflepuff. “What do you want, Potter?”

“I want you to come over here, Victoria.”

She didn’t move. Well, I expected as much.

No girl says no to James Potter. I’m her bloody Quidditch Captain. I’m the fucking king. She can’t disobey me.

So I walked (more like took long strides) towards her. Once I was close enough to touch her, my hand immediately wrapped around her wrist as I tugged (more like roughly pulled her away) from the wall, and from the scrawny Hufflepuff, who was left to stare at our retreating figures.

“What are you doing?” she demanded angrily. “Let go of me, Potter!” Victoria shrilled. “Ugh, what the hell! You don’t have to bloody manhandle me!”

I stopped walking and pulled at her wrist, bringing her around to face me.

From behind her, I noticed the bloke taking one look at Victoria before he turned around and walked back the way he came from.

I suddenly felt smug.

A smirk appeared on my lips as I turned my attention back to her.

“Why are you smirking?” she questioned in a tone that made me smirk even wider. For an unfathomable reason, I found her anger amusing. “What could you possibly be feeling smug about?”

I shrugged.

“What do you want, Potter?” Victoria asked, rolling her eyes.

What do I want?

What do I want?

Shit, what do I want?

“Er..” I began pathetically.

She raised her eyebrows at me. “I—I—uh, well you see—the—there was—Des—sh—Qu—er…”

Smooth, James; real smooth.

A/N: soo.. yes i know this chapter is pretty long. 8000+ words! but everything had to fit in this chapter to lead to the next. :P so tell me what you guys think!


Chapter 8: Mental Breakdowns and Groveling Brothers
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153


James Potter

“What do you want, Potter?” Victoria asked, rolling her eyes.

What do I want?

What do I want?

Shit, what do I want?

I realized that I probably look like a goldfish, standing before her while my mouth opened and closed every now and then. “Er..” I began, rather pathetically.

She raised her eyebrows at me. “I—I—uh, well you see—the—there was—Des—sh—Qu—er…”

Smooth, James—real fucking smooth.

What the fuck was I doing? I’m James Fucking Potter. I am the king of sticky situations. I knew how to talk my way out of anything. So what the bloody hell was I doing, standing in front of Victoria, looking like a bloody goldfish?

Nevertheless, I was panicking in my shoes. What was I supposed to say? That bloke is an arse and I came to relieve you of his presence? Since when did I care? I don’t care. And telling Victoria the truth would only put silly ideas into her head. I’ve learned this little fact about girls the hard way. After about five, very short, relationships later, it had finally sunk in that girls always have tendencies to blow things way out of proportion.

That is the very reason why I don’t invite girls home for the holidays.

Except Victoria and Layla, unfortunately. They’re a package deal when it comes to Desmond. If Desmond comes, Victoria comes; and if Victoria comes, then Layla comes.

Not that I minded. At first I did, when we were eleven. Back in our first year, the holidays were meant to be ‘bro bonding time’, and yet, Desmond brings a whole flock of girls along with him. I was young, and back then, I thought that girls had cooties. After our second year of spending Holidays together, I got over it.

Back to the matter at hand.

“I came to inform you, Vicky.” I began, trying my best to sound like a pompous bastard. “Since you’re dawdling around the corridor, talking to random blokes, I suppose that you must have forgotten. We have Quidditch practice today.”

I knew it was a complete lie, but hey—I was desperate and it was the first thing that came to my mind.

Victoria looked at me with a blank expression, staying silent for a couple of seconds. “We do not have practice today. I would have remembered.” She said, flatly as her hands rose to her hips.

I’ve gripped those set of hips before. . .

Ugh, bloody hell—snap out of it James.

I snorted—you know, for dramatic effect. “Obviously, you must have forgotten, since we do have practice today.” I countered. “I’m positive,” (I really wasn’t) “that I made clearly announced on our last practice that our next practice would be today, five o’clock sharp.

She rolled her eyes at me again before speaking with a tone full of exasperation. “Quit playing games, Potter. I don’t have time for this.”

“Victoria, I’m the captain. I think I would know when I set practice.”

“Perhaps you just forgot to tell the rest of the team! It wouldn’t be the first time this happened.” She exclaimed sourly. “We shouldn’t be punished, or have to suffer through anything, for your own mistakes.”

I glared at her. “This is your own mistake, Vicky. I specifically said that were would be practice today, but you successfully managed to ignore the things I said—yet again. Maybe if you pulled your bloody head from the clouds every now and then, you might hear what’s going on during practice!”

“I pay attention more than I should, you pig-faced quidditch Nazi! During practice you just go on and on about things that I’ve heard a hundred times over.”

“I repeat my instructions because some people, are just too stubborn and unbearably tenacious to listen and follow through with them!” I snapped back, growing more and more angry with every word that came from her mouth.

“Fuck you, Potter. You are ridiculously and unbearably tenacious. You’re standing here making up stories just to cover up your own stupidity. But alright—fine.” She growled at me. “Just to save myself another fucking aneurism, I’ll bite. We have practice today. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go prep myself for another two and a half hours of hell!” she snapped with anger blazing in her eyes.

For that small moment, my anger—that I brought on myself—ebbed away and was replaced by curiosity. The little, seemingly innocent blonde standing before me looked as livid as the fires of hell. Her face had turned beat red, as if she was about to explode just by looking at me.

Don’t get me wrong; if this were any other situation, I would have simply loved pushing her buttons. She was like a toy that I never grew tired of. It had always been a guilty pleasure of mine, seeing that wonderfully familiar deep shade of red fill her face whilst knowing that it was all because of me.

This time, I didn’t feel so great about it.

No, I wasn’t feeling guilty.

Anger and Victoria Rose was practically a package deal.

I was just… too entirely curious for my own good.

How could this girl—this girl who was supposed to be in love with me—treat me like I was the dirt on the bottom of her shoes? I don’t know anything about love, but I sure as hell know that this isn’t it.

“How could you still act like that?” I asked her abruptly, surprising both her and myself. Any signs of anger and annoyance ebbed away from my voice, signaling her that I had calmed down.

She blinked a bit causing her own anger to slightly fade from her eyes. “Act like what?” she responded.

I felt silly for asking her such a question. Probably because it made me sound like I wanted her to act like a love-sick school girl. Maybe because it made me sound like I cared.

And I don’t care.

I don’t care.

Not one bit.

“Act like such a . . . bitch.” I finished, regretfully sounding more curious than angry. “You’re supposed to be in love with me, no? The arrow sure as hell has not worn off yet sin—” I stopped in my tracks as soon as I realized what I was saying. Telling Victoria the truth was way too risky on my part. “Since, well it’s pretty obvious that the arrow still hasn’t worn off. But what I don’t understand is, how can you still act like such a bitch?”

She glares at me, but not because I called her a bitch. “Of course I’m still in love with you, you fucking prat. This stupid arrow,” she points at her arse, and my eyes gladly follow the direction of her slender finger. “won’t let me say otherwise. But just because I’m in love with you, does not mean that you’re suddenly going to look like a fucking saint in my eyes. You’re still the same conceited arsehole that I know and hated.” Her words were full of hatred and anger—enough to make me wonder if she even loved me at all. “Maybe if you weren’t such a dick, then we’d be able to have a civilized conversation without getting into a fucking argument every single time.”

And then she left me there. She turned around and ran off, leaving me standing in an empty corridor where I was left to ponder over the words that I somehow ended up taking to heart.

Victoria Rose

Bloody Potter.

Stupid Potter.

Stupid, bloody, fucking Potter.

God, I hated that git. He was such a gigantic git-face.


You know what I find the most frustrating about this entire ordeal? I can’t even fucking truly hate him. Trying to hate Potter, even with just a single strand of fiber in my being, is becoming harder than trying to do a quadruple loop formation with two other chasers on a hot summers day.

My head is shouting I HATE JAMES POTTER. While my heart is practically thumping with excitement at the thought of getting to see Potter during practice.


And Guess which one always wins?

My fucking heart.

It doesn’t even matter what kind of garbage my mind pushes through my mouth. I could yell at Potter all I wanted, but it still would not change my feelings for him. It would not change the fact that I was irrevocably (or so I thought) in love with the git or the fact that I was going crazy having two contradicting feelings bubbling in the midst body. It was like an ice storm blowing into an active volcano. Hot and cold just doesn’t mix. It was simple science.

So why the fuck does love and hate manage to exist in one being?

Potter wasn’t kidding about Quidditch practice. Even though I knew that he was making the whole bloody thing up, I also knew that he wouldn’t pass up a chance to drill us deeper into the ground. He believed that no matter how many hours we spend practice, there was still room for mistakes. He was right, but that does not, under any circumstances, mean that he should be allowed to repeatedly work us into the ground everyday just to get even a fraction closer to being perfect. At the rate we were going, Slytherin would have to pull off a triple axle after rounding off a loop-de-loop around Peter just to get a goal in.

It was good—the fact that our team is the best the Gryffindor house has seen so far.

But I was tired. And I was pissed.

I wanted to stay in bed and whine about my pathetic life. Instead, I’m being forced to attend practice. Attending practice meant that I will be seeing the bane of my existence and the boy that I am in love with, who, just so happens to be the same person.

Fuck yeah, I love my life.

I grudgingly made my way back to the common room to fetch my gear and some clean clothes. The temperature had gone down, but after a practice executed by Potter, a couple of drills and laps would be enough to have us unbelievably tired and drenched with sweat.

The common room was busting with students by the time I returned for the day. The majority of the crowd that watched Tyler serenade Dominique in the middle of the corridor had returned, only to take up space as they lounged about on the chairs, tables and couches available. Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with this. If they wanted to sit in the common room while their lives fly right past them, then no problem. Go for it.

They just should not be going about it in volumes that could crack my eardrums open.

Potter just brings out the ranging monster of anger in my stomach.

Hear that growling?

It’s the monster of anger.

And I’m hungry.

But that’s besides the point.

Before I even passed the fireplace, I felt a hard body knock the wind out of me from behind. I was practically itching to turn around and give them a good tongue-lashing until I realized that it was Desmond who had just pushed past me.

“What the hell, Des!” I exclaimed.

“Sorry, baby. Gotta run!” he called out in a panicked voice without even looking over his shoulder.

I’ve never seen him run so fast.

My questions were immediately answered once I spotted Sylvia walking through the portrait hole only seconds after Desmond disappeared up the staircase. Her hair was slightly windswept, which meant that she had either taking a ride on her super cool, yet completely imaginary broomstick (she hated Quidditch, and she made clear to inform Layla and I every chance she got), or she had been chasing Desmond.

Using deductive reasoning, I think the latter makes more sense.

I’m a smart barnacle, I am.

“Victoria.” Sylvia greeted sourly as if I was the last person in the universe she wanted to speak to. “Have you seen Desmond?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven’t.” I answer just as sourly. “I suppose you have this, somewhat natural, anti-hot-boy repellent going on.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she crossed her arms over her underdeveloped chest. “Desmond stole my notebook. I’d like to have it back.” She informs me as if I could do anything about it; as if I actually give a flying fu—

“That’s silly, Sylvia.” I told her in hopes that calling her crazy was enough to cover up for Desmond’s idiotic antics. “I don’t see why Desmond would go through so much trouble just to steal something as insignificant as your notebook.”

That was a lie. Desmond is an imbecile, just like Potter. He’d steal a binky from a baby if it had his name printed on the bloody thing.

But unfortunately, I loved Desmond so I won’t reveal that little fact to a potential cause of his downfall.

“You tell me!” Sylvia exclaimed.

“Maybe you’re imagining things. Or perhaps, someone else stole your notebook?” I suggested slowly. “You know—someone else who actually cares about the things you write in it?”

“I don’t appreciate your condescending tone, Victoria.” She told me haughtily, sticking her pointed nose back into the air.

I stared at Sylvia with a blank expression. After dealing with Potter and the rest of the annoying beings that occupy this planet, I definitely did not want to deal with someone who thought that she was the bees knees, like Sylvia did.

So how did I handle this uncalled for situation? With loads and loads of sarcasm that has been bubbling within me this entire day.

I spotted an empty goblet sitting on a table beside me. I picked it up, and showed it to Sylvia who was watching my motions curiously and intently. I suppose that she thought I was about to dump the contents of the goblet on her head. Either she didn’t know it was empty, or she was just plain stupid. “Here is the amount of fuck that I give.” I told her before I slowly tipped the cup over. “Would you look at that!” I said, my voice dripping with an excessive amount of sarcasm—enough excess that for once, my brain was able to comprehend the amount of ‘bitch’ I was currently emitting. “It looks like it’s pretty, fucking empty.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Victoria.” She snapped viciously, glaring at me with intense anger. I was almost scared. Almost. “Just get Desmond to give me back my fucking notebook, and I’ll be out of your way.”

I rolled my eyes exasperatedly as I placed the goblet back on the table, allowing it drop with a loud thunk. “You act as though I can control Desmond’s idiotic tendencies, you crazy little bint.” I told her quickly, growing tired of her charade.

“Call me crazy, but I’ve been on your little friends’ case since first year.”

Holy cow, she needs a hobby.

“I’m guessing that the notebook Desmond supposedly stole has your ‘observations’?” I asked. “I hope you know that in this society, stalking others is—unfortunately for you—frowned upon. . . I think it just might be illegal.”

“So you admit it, then?” she asked quickly, her eyes lighting up in a way that screamed ‘I GOT YOU NOW SUCKER’. “You admit that Desmond is a Cupid?”

I blinked at her. “Admit what?” I asked, giving her a strange and confused look. “Look, Sylvia. Obviously, you went a little overboard with your obsession with Desmond and it has caused you to believe some ridiculous, absurd things. . .”

“Don’t give me that!” she shouted resentfully.

“Calm down!”

“Tell me, Victoria. Why are you suddenly in love with James Potter?” she inquired with a sly, smug look on her face. “Everyone knows that the two of you can’t stand each other. You two have practically been enemies since first year, and now all of a sudden, you’re his girlfriend, and you’re in love with him?”

Oh shite.

“Sounds like the work of a Cupid, no?” Sylvia smirked.

So this is around the point where I start to panic a little. “I’ve always been in love with James!” I exclaim, a little too loud for my own good. “Ever since first year, I’ve been in love with him, but it was just hidden beneath false hatred.”


Godric, today must be my lucky day. I swear, someone up there must love me. Because Potter just chose that exact moment to walk by.

Both Sylvia and I turned towards Potter, and he looked as though he was a deer under a pair of headlights.

So I panicked a bit more.

I grab Potters’ hand (thinking quick on my feet), and pulled him over to my side. I swear, the boy looked like I was about to take my knickers off in front of him before breaking out with the jive.

Fortunately for me, Potter knew better than to speak up in front of Sylvia Bremmer.

“See here, Sylvia?” I ask, holding up our intertwined hands. “We’re in love! Now leave us alone.”

I felt Potters hand stiffen against mine, and I could feel him trying to pull his hand back. So I squeezed his harder, preventing him from recoiling.

Sylvia snorted. “Holding hands with someone doesn’t prove that you’re in love with them.” She pointed out. Darn it. “I could go over there and hold Justin Creevey’s hand right now, and everyone knows that I can’t stand the little pervert.” A scowl formed on her face as she took a short glace towards the tall lanky boy sitting in the corner of the common room.

I rolled my eyes. Before I could really comprehend what I was about to do, I turned around and hooked my arm around Potters’ neck, pulling him down before I met him halfway. It was two swift movements that was a little too swift for my own mind to even fathom until about ten seconds after our lips met. I supposed that it was the arrow who drove me to do this. But then again, what better way to prove that you were in love than a nice, long, passionate kiss?

So I kissed him. Right here, in the middle of the bloody common room, right in front of Bremmer’s (hopefully) shocked face. And Merlin, I kissed him good.

And what else was Potter to do when a perfectly fine teenage girl instigates a good snog?

After the bewilderment escaped him, Potters’ lips began moving forcefully against my own. Little by little, I could feel any rational thoughts slowly fade away while Potter continued kissing me with all his might. I was losing myself with every passing second, and it was driving me mad.

So I pushed him away quickly before I made sure that my feet were back on the ground again.

Potter, whose eyes were still closed, breathed heavily against my face.

I can’t believe I just did that.

I cannot believe I just bloody did that.

I turned to my right once I remembered why I was crazy enough to kiss Potter.

Sylvia was gone.

And unexpectedly, so was Potter.

James Potter

She was messing with my fucking head.

I don’t say this very often—in regards to a girl, I mean. Usually, when people hear “she’s messing with my fucking head”, it just gives them the idea that the girl has some sort of power over me—over my actions or my (completely non existent) affections. They’ll think that I’m going soft or something of the sort.

And I wasn’t.

But this time, I’ll make a little exception.

Victoria kissed me. She fucking kisses me in the middle of the whole fucking common room. So she could what? Prove a point to some girl who was in love with Desmond? I’m sure there were several other ways to go about the situation. She didn’t have to fucking kiss me.

Don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with a fine, seventeen year old girl launching herself at me. By all means, bring them on. But this was Victoria.

Victoria Rose.

Desmond’s best friend.

My cousins best friend.

The best friend of the girl my best mate, Tyler is in love with.

The girl I hated.

The girl I still hate.

I feel like I’m about thirty seconds away from a mental breakdown.

Shit, aren’t I pathetic. . .

About a full thirty minutes of my life was wasted while I ran around the entire castle, searching for my team; all who relentlessly and unfailingly asked annoyingly stupid questions.

. . . Alright, they were mostly annoying because it was hard to explain without making myself sound like a blithering moron.

‘Why do we have practice?’

‘Why wasn’t I informed earlier?’

‘Dude, its time for me to wax my eyebrows. . . Talk about bad timing.”

‘Have you been eating elephants lately? Cause you’re fucking insane.’

‘James, what are you on?’

‘Honestly, mate. I’ve got to go dunk my foot in vinegar and piss. Can’t this wait?’

That was the strangest one of all. Guess who it came from?

My own bloody cousin. Fred Weasley II.

Sometimes, I wonder how our relation can be close to being genetically possible.

After the incessant interrogations, and—not to mention—watching Fred coming millimeters close to dipping his feet in a bucketful of vinegar and (I thought he was just being an idiot, but disgustingly enough) piss, I found myself—along with the rest of my team—on the Pitch. Since it was a last minute practice, they made absolutely no effort to hide their blatant contempt while they halfheartedly carried on with their usual drills.

I couldn’t exactly blame them either. I didn’t really want to be on the Pitch at the moment, anymore than they did.

I tried my best to keep my head on Quidditch. Lap here, drill there—score. It was a simple process, which I’ve done countless of times during every other practice. Unfortunately, this time, it wasn’t working as well as I’d hope. I found it difficult to focus, and consequently, so did the rest of the team.

They were all over the fucking place—throwing quaffles at each other’s heads, flying around when they were supposed to keep their feet on the ground, beating each other with their own bloody bat.

Fred was currently trying to stuff an old, and now dead, bludger up Tyler’s shirt to see how he would look like if he was pregnant.

They were both grinning and laughing like imbeciles.

If only Dominique could see him now. . .

It was difficult to resist the urge to smack my palm to my face.

To my right, I could see that Victoria had already portrayed my own thoughts. She was standing not far from the two imbeciles, shaking her head with her face pressed against the center of her palm. Desmond was standing beside her with a concentrated look on his face as he tried to stick a fake flobbleworm in Victoria’s curls.

“Up in the air!” I shouted, tearing my eyes away from the monstrosity of idiots standing before me. “We’ll do a mock game.”

The bludger fell from Tyler’s stomach, and Fred whined like a baby. “Darn it.” I heard Tyler mutter under his breath.

The rest of the team immediately mounted their broomsticks and pushed off from the ground, soaring straight into the air like clockwork. The chasers took their generic positions in the middle of the pitch, while the two beaters—who, during mock games, play as opposing chasers—took their positions, opposite from the chasers. I let the snitch’s wings flutter between my fingers before I released it into the air. Once I saw that Pete had settled in front of the goal posts, I blew my whistle and the game began.

The moment the quaffle was released, Desmond was the first to get his hands around the large ball. Victoria and Layla—who were no match for the two temporary, unskilled chasers—followed Desmond, keeping formation. The two girls bent forward, closer to their broomstick in order to attain greater speed. The quaffle was thrown to Layla, back to Desmond and then to Victoria who flew around the hoops before passing it back to Desmond. Tyler blocked Desmond’s easy shot, so the quaffle—which was almost intercepted by Fred—was thrown back to Layla who loop-de-looped around Fred, successfully tossing the quaffle to Victoria with extreme subtlety that neither Fred, nor Tyler could tell where it had gone to. Within seconds, Victoria drew back her arm and threw the large brown ball through the middle hoop with great force that Peter could not act fast enough to block it.

The rest of practice dragged on until eight-thirty—longer than expected. Victoria had made about ninety two percent of the goals, while Layla and Desmond made sure that the quaffle had no chance of being intercepted. I was surprised with the plays; it took months to get the chaser trio to play with such swiftness.

Their plays during games were never this skilled either. About thirty minutes into the mock game, Layla managed to maneuver herself into a triple axle, a move that had taken her years to perfect.

“That was bloody amazing, Layla.” I beamed, the moment she flew over to the spot beside me. “I knew you’d be able to nail it before the big Slytherin game!”

Layla grinned. “Victoria gave me great set-ups.” She informed me, slightly breathless. “I’m not sure if I’ll manage during the game, though. Nott knows better than to be sloppy with his chasers. One wrong move and they’ll be wrapped around our fingers.”

I nod in agreement. “The chasers are fast, yes. And I’ll admit, they’ve got amazing spins and dives nailed down. But they’re shit when it comes to teamwork. He chose three people that can’t work together even if their lives depended on it.”

“Which is why we have the upper hand.” She said, grinning proudly.

After Layla and I finished discussing Quidditch tactics, we hovered over the rest of the players on the pitch, watching in silence.

Victoria made one shot after the other, exerting all her force into each and every single one. The speed she had managed to attain was incredible, and she was slowly picking up on Layla’s tricks and spins without any sort of adequate instruction.

I would have been ecstatic that one of my chasers had just performed better than she has ever done in her life, if not for the fact that the only reason she was playing so well was because she was livid.

“So what did you do this time?” Layla asked me, breaking the silence.

I turn my head away from Victoria, and found Layla staring right at me. “What are you on about?” I questioned.

“Don’t play dumb with me, James.” She reprimanded, clicking her tongue. “We both know that the only reason she’s playing that well is because she’s angry.”

I turn my head back to the pitch. Victoria had just scored another point off Peter. Either she was really good, or I’m in desperate need of a new Keeper.

“I didn’t do anything.” I tell her.

“Oh please. You’re the only one who really knows how to rile her up.” She said, not buying a single lie that came from my mouth. “Did you hook up with some worthless slag again?”

“I resent that!” I exclaimed.

Layla chuckled. “Hey, I was just checking. The last time she was really upset with you was when you got that hickey from Amelie what’s her face.” Her nose crinkled at the sound of her name. “I thought she cheated on you.”

I turn away from her again. “She did.”

“So you went crawling back and hooked up with her.” She finished. “That’s real smart, James.”

I wanted to yell at her. I had a compulsive urge to yell at anyone who thought that they knew what was going on between Amelie and I. But strangely enough, it had become increasingly difficult to yell at Layla for anything. I supposed it was because she looked so innocent, like a little girl, and I was too afraid to break someone who looked as fragile as she did.

And this girl was amazing at Quidditch.

Which pretty much made up eighty five percent of the reason why I had grown a soft spot for her.

Growing a soft spot for the girl your best mate has fancied the pants off of since our first year (he doesn’t really like to admit it—and he probably never will—but I can see past those secret glances and that cute blush thing that she does) does not mean that I am going soft.

“You shouldn’t try to torment her so much.” She begins passively, breaking the silence once more. “Being in love with someone is more difficult than you think.”

Before I could question her further, she flies off, resuming her post beside Victoria and continuing on with the game.

Twenty minutes later, I blew my whistle and almost immediately, the other six players descended to the ground. I was the first to land on my feet, followed by Layla and then Victoria. It was the first time since we had gone up into the air that I caught a good look of Victoria’s expression. Her face was as cold as ice, and so was her attitude as she quickly walked past me without a single look—not even a glance in my direction.

Victoria Rose

A quick knock on our door brought me out of my thoughts that night. It was around two thirty in the morning, and both Dominique and Layla were already fast asleep. Unlike them, it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to find sleep these days. My thoughts consumed me more than I preferred once nightfall came and I was in the comfort of my own bed., easily preventing me from getting any sleep until I my mind was too tired to continue functioning.

The draft coming in front the open window caused me to shiver slightly after I pushed my thick duvet away from my body. I slowly tiptoed to the door, careful not to wake the rest of my roommates.

“Desmond?” I was surprised to see him standing behind my door, wearing only a pair of ratty old sweats, and the black wire necklace I had gotten him years ago for his 12th birthday. He hasn’t taken it off ever since. “What’s going on?” I asked while I tried my best to adjust my eyes to the sudden light coming from the staircase. “It’s late.”

He shushed me. “James told me that we might need a little meeting downstairs.” He said in hushed tones. “He told me about Sylvia.”

At the late hour, it took me a while to piece together what he had meant. “Oh.” I said lamely. “Er, alright, I’ll go wake up the girls.”

Desmond nodded before he turned around and quickly made his way down the slide.

I quietly shut the door behind me and walked over to Layla’s bed, deciding that it was best if she was the one I woke up first. I would definitely need backup to wake Dom up—especially when it’s this early.

“Layla.” I whisper as I poked her cheek. “Layla.” I repeated, only slightly louder this time. “Oh Layla,” I poke her again.

Her eyebrows knitted into a frown and she swatted my hand away. “Go away, Vicky.” She muttered in her sleep as she rolled over to her side and pulled her duvet up closer to her body.

“Layla, Desmond is in here and he’s half naked.” I whisper in her ear, grinning to myself like mad.

Her eyes suddenly shot open, and she pulled the duvet closer to her body. “What? There’s a boy in here?”

I guess that wasn’t the exact reaction I was hoping for.

I forgot that Layla slept in nothing but a flimsy tank top and girl boxer shorts.

After scanning our room and realizing that there was no male in sight, she turned to glare at me. “I hate you.” She told me darkly. “What do you want? It’s bloody two thirty!”

“Yes, I realize that, but we have a little problem.” I whisper. “Code C!”

She gives me a strange look while she sits herself up. “Huh?”

“Code C!” I repeat.

“What in the name of Circe is Code C?” she asks dumbly.

I roll my eyes and slap a hand to my face. “. . .Just help me wake Dom up.”

She snorts quietly. “I’ll name you a God if you manage to wake Dom up at this ungodly hour.” Layla pushes her duvet away from her and trudges out of bed.

I’ll be named a God if I manage to wake Dom up at this ungodly hour?

Challenge accepted.

I grabbed my wand from my bedside table and cast a silencing charm on Dominique, just incase she started shouting loud, indiscreet threats in my direction. I then snuck over to Georgies bed and reached my hand into the cage that was set on her bedside table.

“Holy shit—no!” Layla whispered harshly.

With the frog safely in my hand, I walked over to Dominique’s bed and climbed on top of her duvet beside her. Carefully, I positioned the frog on top of her ear, and then squeezed it by the neck.

Dominique shot up quicker than I could recoil my hand and duck for cover. Her mouth was opened wide, and I could only guess that she was screaming at the top of her lungs—only silently—as she caught a good look at the frog sitting in my hands. ‘WHAT THE FUCK!’ she mouthed.

I grinned, and turned to Layla, who in turn, rolled her eyes. “Alright, God Victoria. Let’s go.”

I hopped off Dominique’s—who was still screaming silently—bed and while dragging her along with me, snuck out of our dorm and followed Layla down the stairs.

“Took you three long enough.” Tyler piped up the moment he saw Layla’s familiar face appear from the staircase. He was sitting on an armchair with his legs extended in front of him. Like Desmond, he was shirtless, wearing only his boxer shorts. In fact, all three of them were shirtless. All three of them.

I glanced to my right and saw that Potter (excuse me while I go drool in my corner) had taken the entire couch for himself. He extended his legs, which were too long for the small loveseat thus reaching over to the nearby mahogany table, and rested his head on the opposite arm. Layla, being the first one of us to file in, pushed Potter’s legs off half the couch before planting herself on the other end. Dom, who looked like a sleep walking monster, collapsed on top of her cousin, causing him to howl in pain once her elbow came in contact with his gut. He roughly shoved her off, causing her to pout, but nonetheless, perch herself on the arm of the chair Tyler was lounging on.

So the only seat left for me was the one next to Desmond. Which was completely fine, by the way.

I shuffled over and fell against the cushions, leaning against the right side of his body. I shifted my body so that I was able to stretch my legs out on the arm rest; I was no basically lying horizontally on the couch, with my back against Desmonds arms. Oh yeah. Real comfortable.

You know what’s more comfortable than this?

My bed.

Or Potter’s lap.

But I was mad at him, so no.

“So why am I here?” Dom asked, stifling a yawn behind her hand. Tyler had pulled her onto his lap, so she was currently still half asleep with her head on his shoulder. “I’m tired, and I’m cold.”

“Well, maybe if you girls put something more than underwear on. . .” Desmond trailed off, glancing at our attire.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable once I remembered that I was only wearing girl boxer shorts and one of Desmonds’ old school shirts that no longer fit him. “Let’s just get on with this, yeah?” I asked, wanting to climb back into my own bed.

“So I stole Sylvia’s notebook today.” Desmond began.

“Yes, I heard.” I said through gritted teeth. “Thank you very much, for leaving damage control to me, once again.” Remembering the events of this afternoon, I shut my yes tightly and tried to force the thoughts out of my head. “Please, Desmond. Please refrain from doing anything moronic in the future that could get you exposed. What in the name of Merlin compelled you to steal her bloody notebook?”

“She caught you?” Tyler asked, surprised. “Dude, you could have used a spell to keep her occupied or something.”

“Or one of your fellow man whores over here.” Dominique adds, motioning towards both Tyler and Potter.

“EXCEPT ME!” Tyler practically screamed with his hand raised in the air. “Because I’m in love with Dominique and no other girl will ever be good enough for me!” he exclaims in a sing-song voice.

Dominique allowed her head to fall into her palm.

James, who had his eyes closed while he lounged sleepily beside Layla, snickered.

I giggled a bit, and I felt Desmonds’ chest rumble with a chuckle. “Yes, except Tyler.” He says, grinning at his friend. “But that’s beside the point. I admit, I’ve been getting sloppy lately.”

“YOU THINK?” I ask abruptly, craning my head to glare at him.

Desmond tickled me nonchalantly without even turning his head, causing me to flop like a fish and fall over the couch, landing right on my bottom.

“Ow,” I pout from the floor.

“Any-hoo,” Desmond continued, ignoring me. “I read her book, and. . . well.. okay I was pretty much creeped out.” He admits, pulling the book from his pocket and tossing it to Layla. “She’s been. . . watching—”

Layla snorts as she begins to flip through the pages. “More like stalking.”

“She’s been watching me since our first year, and she recorded everything!”

“This girl needs a hobby.” Layla says flatly.

“That’s what I said!” I exclaimed from the floor.

Why am I still on the floor?

I picked myself up and this time, rested my back against the arm of the couch and stretched my legs out on Desmonds lap. If he had any funny ideas (like tickling me until I died), then I would be in advantage because my foot was dangerously close to his ba—

“Holy balls!” Layla exclaimed. “What the.. is this—?” she looks up at Desmond, pointing to a page in the book.

He nodded, shutting his eyes tightly.

“What is it?” Dominique asked curiously, now fully awake.

Potter, who had finally decided to join us, sat up from his seat and began looking over Layla’s shoulders. His eyes widen and his lips cracked into a smile. “Shit, she recorded your boxer sizes?”

“His jock strap size is in here too. . .” Layla says with wide eyes, pointing to the next page.

Potter proceeds to howl with laughter, and I managed to trip over the coffee table after I stupidly dove for the book. I managed to snatch it from Layla’s hands on my stop from the floor, and I read over the neat writing. “Holy mother of Merlin.” I breathe. “She really did record your jock strap size!”

Tyler was currently doubling over with laughter while he held Dom in place on his lap. I couldn’t help but laugh as well. Desmond had a creepy stalker on his tail—no, I should say wings—and it was bloody hilarious.

In mid laughter, I looked up and caught the all too serious look that had smothered Desmond’s handsome face. “Okay, I’m done.” I said quickly as I placed the small book back on Layla’s lap.

“Thank you.” He said to me curtly.

“So what you’re saying is. . .” Layla began slowly as her fingers traced the outline of the leather bound book.

“We need a plan.” Dom finished as her eyes danced from Potter, to Desmond, to me and then back to Potter. “Basically.”

He nodded.

“What do you suggest we do?” Layla inquired.

“Date her.”

All five heads spun towards Tyler. “What?” he asked, as if we were the crazy ones. “Date her, and show her that you’re an average bloke with an average lifestyle.” He shrugged. “Make her believe that you’re in love with her or something.”

I turn back to Desmond as a light bulb suddenly appeared above my head. “You don’t have to go as far as making her believe that you’re in love.” I tell him. “But, he’s got a point there, Des. Dating her would be perfect! She’s in love with you already so you won’t even have to work for it!”

He shook his head in a strict, forceful manner. “No!” he exclaimed. “That’s completely insane, and you know it.”

“What better way than to get her off your case?” Potter piped from his spot on the couch.

“He’s right, Des.” Dominique said, yawing again. “There’s no better way to make her believe that there’s nothing fishy about you.”

“See?” I urged.

He sighed while he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All of you honestly think that this will work?” he asked. We all nodded.

All of us except.. Oh… Layla.


DAMNIT I forgot about Layla.

I am the worst friend on the face of the planet.

Quickly, but subtly, I throw her a glance over my shoulder, only to find her playing with a loose thread from the hem of her shorts. Her brows were furrowed, which either meant that she was constipated, or she was contemplating over an enigma of some sort.

I turn back to Desmond, and sighed, knowing that there was no other way to solve the current situation at hand. “It’s the only way, Des.” I tell him softly, suddenly feeling sympathetic for my two best friends.

She was a mortal. He was a cupid.

How could two completely opposite beings ever work out?

James Potter

“Alright.” The sound of silver clanking against ceramic filled my ears as Dominique dropped her silverware and folded her hands in front of her. That’s what my mum looks like when she’s about to scold Lily, except Dominique looks like a cute little golden retriever puppy when placed beside the ranging monster that was my own mother. “What the hell is going on between the two of you?” she asked suddenly.

For a short moment, I thought she was talking about Desmond and Layla.

It would take an idiot with a brain the size of a peanut to ignore the tension floundering around them. Actually, it was floundering around all of us.

To be quite frank, it was getting rather annoying.

But then, once all eyes turned towards Victoria and me, I suddenly realized who she was truly referring to. “What are you talking about?” I asked her.

I actually knew what she was talking about. Victoria and I haven’t spoken a single word to each other ever since our little spat in the corridor the other day. It’s been a whole four days of silence. Four entire days. I’ve had relationships that ended faster than this little cold war going on between us.

You see, at first (the day after our little spat, when I had finally decided that this was a blessing and I should accept it as it is because Merlin is giving me a sign that it’s time for me to be truly happy)—I was all ‘WOOHOO’. For one, there was no one around to nag me. ‘Don’t do this, don’t do that. Don’t be such a prat, James. Don’t smoke, you’ll kill yourself, James. Don’t breathe, you’re taking up all the oxygen.’ You get the picture. So naturally, I was ecstatic. No—I was over the fucking moon. I could not be any more happier than I was at that precise moment when I suddenly felt free. In that unfortunately short period of time, I didn’t give two fucks about how Victoria felt. I was happy as fuck, and I was more than willing to bask in it as much as I can before fate decides to stick the ruddy girl back into my life.

By the time the second day rolled around, I realized just how bored I really was. It was around midnight, and (okay technically, it was the third day) the rest of the boys had already gone to sleep. I pulled the window on my side of the room open before I climbed back on my bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, I came to the understanding that I was . . . well I was bored.

There was no longer anyone to pick fights with. Dominique was too impatient and rational to stand on one spot and blow off her steam while I smirk down at her. Layla—well, hell, Layla was simply too nice. She may be violent, aggressive and a little morbid at times, but she was too kind a girl to call anyone a prat-fuck (Victoria called me that when we were in our fifth year) or a git-face.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I was supposed to be enjoying this.

I was supposed to go out and have a fucking party.

I could go fuck Amelie without having Victoria pop into my mind every now and again.

Hell, I could fuck any girl I wanted.

Not that she was stopping me before. But I was simply free now. She wasn’t speaking to me. Which mean that I was no longer responsible for her feelings, since Desmond could no longer pin any of her pain on me.


So why do I still feel as though I’m tied down?


“James-y!” When I turned around at the sound of my god-awful nickname, I expected to see my baby sister grinning up at me like the cheeky little brat she was. Instead, I came face to face with my darling baby brother, who sounded too much like a girl for my own comfort. “Relax.” His voice suddenly returned to a rich baritone. “It’s a little thing Fred gave me. Well, okay I lied. I had Roxanne knick it for me.”

He held up a little cone, and pressed it to his lips. “Hi James-y.” he sounded exactly like Lily. Albus removed the cone from his lips, and smirked. “It’s rather cool, don’t you think? You can sound like anyone you choose.”

I grabbed the device from him and inspected it. It was a simple white, plastic cone. But as I pressed it to my lips and imagined the girl that my baby brother has fancied since he was little, I grinned to myself. “Hello Albus.” My voice turned smooth and feminine, causing him to glare at me distastefully. It was a voice that I was positive he was familiar with—the voice of the girl he’s fancied since he was eleven. Ginger Star.

Laughing loudly, I return the device and punch his shoulder playfully. “Relax, Al. Now what do you want?”

He shook his head in order to push his anger aside. “I need your help.”

“I sense lady troubles.” Albus suddenly looked uneasy. “Ah, so it is.” I deduced. “Big brother is listening.”

He rolled his eyes, but began talking nonetheless. “I want you to . . .”

“To what?” I pressed. “Be your wingman? Take her out and show her how bog of a douche bag I really am so that she can run back into your arms when you suddenly look like the ‘good guy’?” I grinned to myself as nostalgia hit me like a big yellow school bus.

Nicole Reyes. I must have been the worst date of her life.

Ahh . . . good times, good times.

Albus shook his head, and ran his hand through his hair; a little habit he adapted from his handsome big brother. “I want you to go on a double date with us. You know—so it’s more comfortable.”

I stare at him for a good moment or two.

A double date?

“Are you insane?” I asked him, completely baffled. “Who the hell am I supposed to take with me? You know that I don’t let girls fraternize with family. It just gives them the wrong idea.” I grumbled. “They meet your baby sister, and all of a sudden, they think we’re going to get married or some shit.”

“. . .You do have a girlfriend, James.” Albus points out bluntly.

Oh yeah, I do have a girlfriend. . .

“You can just take her. Unless you two have already . . .” he trailed off, practically asking the rest of the question with the green eyes we shared.

“No, no.” I answer quickly. “We’re just not on the best terms at the moment. We had a little spat, you see.”

“Please, James?” Albus pleads, clasping his hands together. For a short moment, I felt like we were little boys again, making backyard deals here and there to cover our own tracks of mischief. “I would love you forever if you do this small little favor for me!”

“That is no way to get me to do you a favor, baby bro.” I said, rolling my eyes. “You are genetically programmed to love me forever, anyway.”

Abruptly, Albus’ eyes narrowed in a glare. “I’ll tell dad who really broke his Firebolt.”

“Meet you here tomorrow night, at around—lets say, seven?”

There was no way in hell that I was going to suffer through the wrath of Harry Potter. That Firebolt was his baby. He had bought another broomstick after turning twenty one out of fear that his Firebolt might fall into any condition less than perfect.

It was stowed away in his closet full of memories, up until I snuck out one night and stole his Firebolt since they chained my own in the backyard. Upon return, I was drunk, and it was dark. The Firebolt and I crashed into a nearby tree.

Luckily for me, I managed to get back into my own bed before he even knew I was gone.

Unfortunately for Albus, he chose the very same night to sneak out. Dad thought it was him, and grounded him for the rest of the summer. Albus was one very angry child that summer.

He grinned at me, probably proud that he managed to get me to agree to something he proposed. Usually it was the other way around.

But I was in no way willing to be punished by my father.



And if I drag Victoria out on this double date, something tells me that I’ll be able release some pent up (not that I really had any) stress by arguing the pants off of her.

James Potter, you are a genius.

A/N: Long chapter! yes i know. 8500+ words. i would have cut it down into two chapters, but it was better together.. the next one is about a fourth written :P i've been pretty busy with school & i've got SATs coming up, so wish me luck! i apologize in advance if i take a while to update.

so how do you guys like what's going on now? the blossoming romance between Desmond and Layla is pretty cute if you ask me :) & james and victoria? i'd love to hear your thoughts!

love, gryffindorgirl.

Chapter 9: Movie dates and Lying Bestfriends
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153


James Potter

I was whistling to myself as I made my way down the boys staircase and into the common room where I was sure I would find Dominique. It was a nice day outside. The sun was out, the temperature had dropped from its insanely high mark, and there was a nice breeze coming in through the window. Ah, the cool breeze of October.

When I found her, she was flipping through a thick magazine that was laying on her lap. “How’s my favorite cousin in the whole wide world?” I ask immediately, grinning, as I plopped down on the couch beside Dominique.

“What do you want, James?” she asks me without lifting her eyes from the page.

“Now what in the world makes you think that I want something?”

“You’re being nice to me.” She answered bluntly.

I stared at her incredulously, but all too soon, I dropped the act, knowing that I’d have to be a fool to believe that I would be able to lie to Dominique. “I need a favor.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Albus came to me the other day, asking me for a very interesting favor himself.” I begin.

“Are you going to pass that favor onto me, or are you going to ask one of your own?” she asked nonchalantly.

“He asked me to go on a double date with him.” I said, ignoring her questions. “And I agreed—not that I had a choice.”

“What’s the favor, James?” she asked, in a voice that indicated she was already tired of my evasiveness, while she continued flipping through the magazine.

“I need you to get Victoria ready.” I finally said. “Don’t tell her what’s going on, just get her dressed—make her pretty, whatever you girls do before a date. She’s a little bit angry with me, so she won’t agree to it if I ask her.”

Dominique snorted. “Of course she’ll agree to it, she’s in love with you.”

“Er. . . yes, but that’s besides the point.” I said before standing up. “Just get her ready, will you? Get her to meet us here by four.”

She waved her hand. For a moment, I thought that she was going to decline my request, but then she spoke, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I love you Domie!” After giving her a nice, wet kiss on the cheek, I ran up the stairs and into my dorm.

Albus owes me big time.

Well if I were to get all technical, this is me repaying my brother.


“Al, you need to bloody relax.” The exasperation in my tone was becoming more and more obvious by the second. For the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been trying to convince Albus that this was girls’ thing. They were always ‘fashionably’ late. Frankly, almost 70% of the time, their lateness exceeds the ‘fashionable’ amount, which just makes them irritatingly late.

Who in the name of Merlin ever thought that being late was ‘fashionable’?

“What if she suddenly changed her mind and wants to back out?” he asked frantically with wide eyes. “What if she realizes what she’s getting herself into and ran away?”

I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I mean, honestly.” He ran his hand through his hair; a nervous habit that he and I share. “Who would be crazy enough to get themselves involved with a family like ours? We’re bloody mental, we are.”

I almost chuckled. I would have if I wasn’t so bloody annoyed at the moment. Both his date and my own was late, and I was the one dealing with the bloody consequences. “Look, mate. If I have to tell you to relax one more time, my fist is going to magically make its way up your ar—”


My jaw suddenly found its way to the cold, hard floor.

Victoria suddenly appeared from the stairs, looking. . . well fuck. She looked nice. Yes, I’m aware that the adjective ‘nice’ isn’t exactly the term most girls search for from a bloke before a date. What was I supposed to do? Drop my jaw and bluntly admit that she looked downright ravishing? That I wanted to rip her clothes off her skin and have my way with her right here, right now?

Dominique had certainly done her part. Victoria looked. . . I really hate to admit it, but she looked absolutely stunning. Her wild, curly hair had been straightened and tamed, falling close to her waist. She had put on a white, frilly, laced camisole (I went through a treacherous night learning the difference between a shirt and a camisole from my darling sister after I managed to ruin her expensive camisole when I attempted to do laundry the muggle way for the first time in my life) above a turquoise colored tank top and her long legs were exposed by faded denim shorts—shorts that I, in less than three seconds flat, became a huge fan of.

“Victoria.” Keep it cool, bro.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Albus’ shameless display of disappointment upon realizing that my date, instead of his, was the one who had just arrived.

“Is this your doing, Potter?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

I smirked my James Potter smirk. “It most certainly is.” Before she could say anything else, I quickly approached her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Albus is watching us, baby.” I whispered. “We’re dating, remember?”

I could hear her growl under her breath.

It was a strangely arousing sound.

But getting back to the matter at hand.

“Hey Al,” Victoria greeted, peeking over my shoulder to get a good look at my brother.

“Hey.” Without even turning around, I knew that Al had probably jumped about fifty feet off the ground as the second female of the night joined us. “Sorry I’m late. My friend got caught up in this thing with this guy, and fish nets were involved and a pair of pantyhose—” she raised her hand and stopped in mid sentence. “It’s a long story, and will probably make me seem like I’ve gone bonkers.”

Ginger Star was a redhead—I guess her name screamed it out already—with bright purple eyes and a banging body. She was the girl next door; the girl that Albus had been to afraid to speak to since he was eight. Her parents were muggles, which consequently drove them to our doorstep once they found out that their little girl was a witch.

I turned around, and clapped a hand onto Albus’ shoulder. “She’s a keeper, mate. I think she’ll fit right into our family, don’t you?” And with a wink, I left him standing there while he racked his brain for a ‘hello’ or a ‘you look pretty today’.

Before I managed to step over the entrance of the common room, I heard a feeble “Your hair smells nice,” and resisted the urge to smack my palm to my forehead.

I’ve got a lot of work to do.


At the risk of sounding like an utter, arrogant prick, I—being James Sirius Potter, the son of the savoir of the world—am an amazing date. I’m serious. I’ve been told countless of times, and all the girls in the school know it. I know how to take a girl out. I know what to do to make her blush and I know the right things to say to earn a small, cute giggle. I know all the right things to say to get me right where I want to be.

But before I dive into the dirty details—on this delightful evening, I found myself in a little dilemma.

I was sweating like a pig.

I was stuttering like a child incapable of speech.

I was fidgeting like there was no fucking tomorrow.

I felt like I wanted to puke, and I haven’t even consumed any alcohol for the night.

What the bloody hell was wrong with me?

I decided to take the three out on a night in Muggle London. After sneaking away to Hogsmeade, we found a working floo network in the Hogshead Inn and flooed out here with the intentions of a Muggle movie and ice cream. It wasn’t anything special, but it would do.

Albus and Ginger were as awkward as ever, and Victoria was still strolling down the silent treatment road. Even though she was horribly failing at it—every now and then she would get fed up with my annoying comments and send me snippy yet cold retorts—she persisted with the silence until we finally reached the muggle movie theater at the end of the road.

“So. . .” I began, finding it incredibly uncomfortable to be bathing in awkwardness. “What movie shall we see?”

“How about a Horror film?” Ginger suggested enthusiastically. “The movie ‘Insidious’ was just released, and I’m dying to see it.” She finished excitedly with a small smile on her face.

I almost died trying to suppress my laughter.

Albus was a baby when it came to horror films.

You would think that us Potter men were brave and strong. Not Albus. Behind that Potter smirk of his, he’s the baby Potter—the only one out of the three that mum still considered her baby. Even Lily had grown out of the baby stage, much to dad’s dismay.

“Sure.” Albus shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Why not? I don’t think you want to be showing Ginger, the girl of your dreams, that you are capable of blubbering like a baby when it comes to horror films.

“I’ve been wanting to see that too!” Victoria exclaimed, surprisingly.

I turned to her with a bemused expression. “I thought you were afraid of movies like these?”

She shrugged, turning her face away from me. “I haven’t seen a horror movie in ages.”

“Desmond instructed me to keep you away from horror movies.”

Victoria glared at me. “I’m not a little girl, Potter. So stop treating me like one before your balls finds its way back up into your stomach.” She then proceeded to push past me and towards the ticket booth.

“One for Insidious please.” I heard her say.

I walked towards her and leaned down beside her head before slapping some bills on the counter. “Make that two, please.”

Number one rule of a gentlemen: Always pay for your date.

Victoria Rose

I was told by Dominique that Layla wanted to spend a night out together. Considering everything that was going on with Desmond and Sylvia, I understood why she would want a break from reality. So for the pure heck of it, I allowed Dominique to dress me.

Yes, I know. It was a ginormous mistake from the start; allowing Dominique Weasley to dress me for a ‘night out’. For all I knew, she could’ve slapped a miniskirt on my legs and an incredibly tight shirt around my boobs and proceeded to call it a day. However, for the first time ever, she chose a plain, yet fashionable outfit. For the first time in ages, my white, laced camisole, that has been sitting in the darkness for years, can finally see the light.

I should have noticed that there was something wrong when Dominique made an excuse to stay in our dormitory for the night. Since when did Dom ever skip on a night out with the girls? It was her once chance to drink till every boy in the room looked more than half decent through her impaired vision. It was also the one time Layla and I drank like there was no tomorrow.

“I have plans with Tyler tonight.” Dominique told me while she handed me a pair of sandals. “Des asked me to spring him out of detention, and I promised Tyler that I wouldn’t leave him alone with Professor Trelawney for another night.”

It was an acceptable reason at the time. But as I descended down the staircase, expecting to meet Layla in the common room, the entire story suddenly seemed a bit. . . off to me. Since when did Dominique carry out favors for Desmond? Since when does Dominique go on some mission impossible to spring Tyler out of detention without any help from either Layla or me?

All my unanswered questions were immediately answered the moment I laid eyes on Potter in the common room. He seemed to be waiting with a nervous, fidgeting Albus.

It was a date. A double date. I had been set up, by my own girl friend, to go on a date with the boy I was forcibly in love wit AND supposedly dating.

How many girls in the world can say that this has ever happened to them?

Right, none. Because the heavens hate me and clearly want me to suffer.

I was supposed to be ignoring Potter.

It was working too. . . for a while. I had hoped that ignoring Potter would hopefully push my irritating infatuation aside and break this stupid spell Cupid had placed on me. I know that I was aiming for the impossible. When has anyone ever broke through the spell of a Cupid?

But I had to try something. I had to try and hate Potter with ever fiber in my being. If I didn’t, I think I would be pushed over the edge and falling head first into the endless pit that is insanity. I can’t handle it. This was my best bet in ensuring that my mind stays put and my feelings stay nailed to the ground.

I didn’t want to be all over the place, surrendering to my own mind. Especially when it just became my own worse enemy.

We had missed the early showing, leaving the last one for the night at nine PM. By the time we walked into the theater, it was eight thirty-six, leaving plenty of time to talk before the previews even start. We—Ginger, Albus, Potter and myself respectively—filed into one of the middle rows and found ourselves situated into silence once more.

We were all quiet. Ginger—I’m sure—simply had nothing to say, while Albus was nervous beyond belief. I could tell since he would not stop ruffling his hair. Soon enough, I’m almost positive that it would look as ridiculous as Potter’s messy head of hair.

“Hey Al, do you want to go get some popcorn and candy?” I heard Ginger ask in her soft voice.


“This is not the time to be hesitant, brother. Get up of your arse and go with her.” I heard Potter hiss from beside me.

This left both Potter and I sitting alone, basking—more like squirming—in a pool of our own uncomfortable silence.

“So. . .” Potter began.

I was actually beginning to enjoy this wall that had formed between us.

Unfortunately, Potter had to open his mouth and ruin it for me.

“Nice night. . . eh?”

I slowly turned my head towards him, surprised beyond belief that the biggest player in Hogwarts had resorted to the smallest of small talks. ‘Nice night’? Seriously?

If I wasn’t trying to resist the bloke so much, I would have probably burst out in laughter.

But I was.

So I didn’t.

“Seriously, Potter? That’s the best you can come up with? Nice night?” I retorted, rolling my eyes.

He glared a me through the darkness. “I don’t see you trying to make this date less awkward than it has to be.” He snapped in response. “What’s wrong with you? This is usually the time when you’d start spitting out random things that hold absolutely no relevance to our lives, or to our night.”

I turned away, resisting the urge to roll my eyes again. “Well, Potter, I’m here against my will. Maybe if you had simply asked me out on a fucking date yourself, then maybe I wouldn’t be trying to hard to stay away from you.”

Potter scoffed exasperatedly. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all week. Knowing you, I honestly don’t think that asking you on a date myself would have made this situation any better.”

“You don’t know me, Potter.” I snapped quickly; angrily. “You may know Desmond, Tyler, and Dominique and maybe even Layla, but you don’t fucking know me, alright?”

“Why the fuck do you always act like you’re so high and mighty, Vicky?” he demanded, fully turning his body towards me. I looked the other direction, too angry to face him at all. “You love feeling like no one can touch you, don’t you? You put yourself so high in the fucking sky so that no one will ever be able to hurt you—well you know what, Vicky? There’s no fucking man in the world that will ever have to patience or the ability to climb that high just to win that ice box in your chest that you call a heart. In the end, you’ll just be alone for the rest of your sad, fucking life, and you only have yourself to blame for it.”

I wasn’t sure why. Of all the fucked up things Potter ever said, I had let this get to me.

I abruptly stood up, and walked out of the theater without ever looking back.

By the time I reached the exit, the skies were pouring rain. I sighed, knowing it would be ludicrous to run out into the rain, wandering around a place I was not familiar with. So I resorted to sitting on a small stump that was sticking out the side of the building.

I listened to the sound of the rain hitting the pavement, hoping that it would be enough to calm me down. For years, Potter and I had fought and argued over everything two people could possibly argue about and not once was he ever able to push my buttons this far. There were times when I wanted to squeeze his head until I popped between my fingers, and there were times when I wanted to take a swing at his – point is, I’m seething.

No matter how much I hate to admit it, Potter was right. He was fucking right, and it was driving me over the fucking edge.

“Vic?” Albus’ voice broke through my thoughts. “Hey,” I looked up at the same moment he awkwardly stuck his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His eyes scanned the pouring rain before they made their way back to me. “I saw you rush out, are you alright?”

I nodded. “Fine.” I answered simply. “Just fucking perfect.”

“I take it you’re finding my brother to be a handful.” He said, planting himself on the space beside me. “But of course, who doesn’t already know that, eh?” Albus let out a short chuckle and slowly shuffled his feet against the damp pavement.

I’ve known Albus Potter for years. And after years of knowing the youngest male Potter, it was not until now that I realized how ridiculously cute and awkward he was. As I watched him stare at anything but my face, I couldn’t help but smile. So the baby boy Potter was uncomfortable with eye-contact.

How fucking cute.

“Where’s Ginger?” I asked, trying to ease his discomfort. “It’s not really a good move to leave your date for another girl.”

He chuckled softly again. “She’ll be fine. She went back into the theater. Hopefully James won’t pull a dick move and start feeding her embarrassing stories about my. . . darker days.” His eyes narrowed at the thought of his brother wrecking the potential chance he had with his dream girl. For a moment, I expected him to jump back on his feet and save Ginger from the hands of the other Potter boy, but surprisingly, he shook his head and disregarded the matter. “Anyway, what’s got your knickers in a bunch tonight?” he asked. “What has my dear brother done now?”

I laughed bitterly. “He’s just being a dick. You know him, always so high and mighty.”

“That’s James, for you.” Albus said, rolling his eyes. “But you already know this. Why does it seem like it’s coming to you as a shock?”

“I knew Potter was a dick the moment I met him. He just. . . somehow knows me more than I expected.”

Albus nods, understanding. “You know Vic, this may surprise you—actually, this may surprise anyone who knows my brother—but James. . . James,” He shook his head with and let out a bitter laugh; as if he was slightly dipping into the large bowl filled with his past. I was suddenly curious; wondering what that small shake of the head could have meant. “No matter how stupid he may be, he’s very perceptive. Incredibly perceptive, in fact. And you two have known each other for years.”

“It’s different, Al. We’ve hated each other for years.”

“And now you two are together.” He retorts. “You can’t expect to be able to continue hiding behind this wall of yours, especially from James. It’s only natural that he eventually see’s the real you.”

Ugh. The second Potter boy to be right. What the fuck is with these Potters and being right today?

“You’re right.”

Oh hey. Looks like my pride actually allows Albus Potter to be right.

“Always am.” A very Potter like smile spread across his lips. “Do me a favor, yeah Vic? Go easy on my brother. I know how stubborn and pig-headed he may be, but there’s more to him once you get past his asshole façade.”

“I suppose.” I wasn’t sure of what else to say. Albus was right, but I sure as hell didn’t want him to be right. I wanted to stay in my own world, away from James fucking Potter. I wasn’t dating the bloke. I didn’t even fancy him in the first place. I just happened to be head over heels in love with him, and it wasn’t even my fault to begin with. Potter didn’t have to know me—he shouldn’t know me. None of this was real. None of it.

Of course, all Al was able to see was the façade of our own that was coincidentally established because of his misinterpretations.

“So shall we go back?” He asked.

I knew Al was eager to see Ginger again. He was jittery and his eyes constantly turned towards the entrance of the theater. How could I possible say no to a boy as cute as Al Potter?

I nodded, forcing a small smile on my face. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from Ginger any longer.”

Al playfully ruffled my hair as I stood up on my feet. In response, I playfully shoved him away from me.

We walked back into the theater with Al’s arm around my shoulders in a friendly manner.

I always knew Albus Potter was my favorite Potter.

Next to his. . . ridiculouslyhandsomebrotherwhoijustsohappentobeinlovewith.

Fuck my life.

James Potter

Ginger returned before her date.

Victoria still didn’t come back.

I’m guessing that Albus went after her.

At the risk of sounding like a bloody poof—it should’ve been me going after her. Not that I was suddenly planning on jumping right out of my seat to search for her. But she was my date, and as far as he knew, my girlfriend.

So why the fuck am I just sitting here, one seat away from Ginger, Albus’ date?

Because I’m a git, that’s fucking why.

Why did I have to go and open my big fat mouth?


About ten minutes later . . .

Victoria returned with Albus.

She looked like she was in a better mood, but I was still a bit scared of saying a word. If I didn’t know any better, it’d seem like she and my brother pulled over for a quickie in a random lavatory, which would explain why she was put in a better mood. I mean, honestly—what man in his right mind could possibly resist a long-legged blonde like her?

Oh right. My brother can.

Because he’s in love with a Ginger.

But I can’t be too sure. . .

“Hey Ginger, pass the popcorn?” Victoria spoke up, breaking the silence between the four of us. She leaned forward to look at her, giving me a nice view of her exposed neck. . .

Control yourself, James.

Ginger handed the bucket of popcorn to Albus, who proceeded to hand it to Victoria.

“Thanks Al,” She said, smiling at him.

Albus smiled back.

What the fuck?

What was going on between my baby brother and my girl?

She’s not your girl.

The hell she’s not my girl.

Don’t say it James.

Don’t say it.

“You look like you’re in a better mood.” I found myself saying before I could even think.

As she threw popcorn into her mouth one by one, she kept her eyes on the screen flashing previews. “I am—a little bit.” She answered without even looking at me.

“Did you and Al manage to fit in a quickie before the movie started?”

I felt a sharp jab on my left side. I guess Al heard me.

Victoria, however, didn’t even flinch.

“No.” Her voice was cold and hard. Almost controlled, as if she was about to burst any minute.

“Yeah, right.” I scoffed.

“Hush, Potter. The movie is starting.”

Thirty minutes later. . .

“Albus, I swear to Merlin if you don’t take your bloody hands off of me right now, I will beat you till you’re crying home to mum.”

“But. . . but. . . it’s so scary!”

“You’re on a date. Man up! Stop being such a Pansy.”

“Leave him alone, Potter. Not everyone is like you—a cold hearted prat.”

“He needs to learn that there are no more monsters under his bed!”

“Maybe he would’ve learned that years ago if you hadn’t messed around with him so much!”

“Hey guys?”

“Yes, Ginge?” Like my special nickname for her? I think it suits her the best.

Better than Ginger.

“Can we please just watch the movie?”

“She’s right Potter, now shut up and watch the movie.”

“I will once Albus stops hanging onto me like a bloody chimp!”

“Al, stop hanging onto Potter so that he can shut his gigantic mouth.”


“YOU SHUSH!” Albus retorted loudly.

“Al! You’re going to get us kicked out!”

“Sorry Ginger. . .”

“Al, get the fuck off me.”


“Victoria, switch seats with me.”


“Ginger, switch seats with Albus.”

“No! She can’t switch seats with me. I don’t want to sit on the edge! YOU CAN’T MAKE HER!”

“I’m guessing that’s a no from me.”

Is today say no to James Potter day?

What the fuck.

“Victoriaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” I whined. “Please switch seats with me so that Albus can stop hugging me. I feel a little bit uncomfortable.”

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes from beside me. “You know what, fine. If it will get you to bloody shut up, then fine.”

Hang on.

If we switch seats, then Albus will hug Victoria.

Albus will cling onto Victoria.


My girl.

As far as he’s concerned.

She sat up in her seat, and was about to move when I put my hands up to stop her.

“Never mind! Sit down.”

Through the darkness, I could see a look of confusion in her eyes.

“No sit.” I commanded. “I’ll just have to deal with my idiot brother for the next hour and ten minutes.”

“Potter, I’ll switch with you. Now shut the fuck up and move.”

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She gives me another look of confusion. “What the bloody hell are you on about?”

“Nothing.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Just sit down and watch the movie.”

“Are you going to shut up now?”

“Yes.” I muttered, feeling my pride dying with every passing second.























“WOULD YOU TWO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” Whoa, Ginge is angry.

Suddenly, a light—the kind of light that wasn’t coming from the screen—appeared. “Excuse me.” It was a tall lanky man with a flashlight in his hand. “Would you four please leave the theater? You’re all disrupting the movie, and I’ve had several complaints the last ten minutes.”

“We’ll be quiet.” Victoria snapped as she turned to look at him.

The man looked a bit taken aback by her attitude. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’ve been asked to escort the four of you out.”

“And I’ve been asked to shit bricks, but we’re not able to do whatever we want, now can we?” I couldn’t suppress my laughter. “Now if you don’t mind, would you please lower your flashlight? Or turn it off for that matter. I think at this point, you’re disrupting the movie with that ridiculously bright light in your hand.”

Slowly and hesitantly, the man lowered the flashlight and proceeded to turn it off. The theater was now dark once more, disregarding the light coming from the projector. “Would you four please step out?”

“We paid for this movie.” Victoria snapped again. “Now would you please leave us alone?”

I could feel her glare all the way over here. I watched as he cowered under it, even though she was sitting and he was standing over her.

Eventually, he retreated back down the stairs and out of the theater.

Victoria turned her attention back towards the screen, revealing her scowl to both Albus and I. She crossed her arms over her chest and slouched down against the cushions of her seat. “Bloody son of a wanker.” She muttered under her breath.

For the next few minutes, I stared at her—despite he darkness—completely amazed; completely fascinated. I watched as the light flickered across her pale skin, exposing several different faces in one. She was sarcastic and bitter—the only side of herself that she has ever shown me in the last seven years that I’ve known her—and yet, I could see a side of her that was. . . tame and calm. She looked as sweet as a bloody angel, yet a fire burned within her—a fire that could only match those of hell. It was the kind of fire that was absent in most girls. The kind of fire that they suppressed, instead of expressed, the kind that was ridiculously hot and amazing to watch at the same time. With flames of different colors, different emotions and personalities. It was the kind of fire that I was undeniably attracted to.

Victoria Rose

“So how was your date?” Dominique asked the moment I walked through the doorway of our dormitory. She was lounging on her messy bed with a magazine resting on her chest.

I scowled and dropped my bag at the foot of my bed before I pulled off my shoes. I ran over to Dom’s bed and plopped myself down beside her, my blonde hair splaying all over the place. “It was a date with your cousin, what do you expect?”

“Was it that bad?” she asked, staring at the canopy.

I shrugged. “We almost got kicked out of the theater, but I yelled at the bloody usher.”

Dom giggled softly. “That’s my girl.”

“Ginger’s nice.” I told her, reminiscing. “After the movie we went for some ice cream for Albus’ sake. Potter and Al went to buy it, and we waited by a park somewhere. She really likes Albus, which is ridiculously cute.”

She smiled in response. “Ginger Star, right? That boy has been in love with her since we were little children. It’s good that they’re finally together.”

“It was only a date.” I replied. “But hopefully he’ll eventually find the courage to ask her soon.”

“Hopefully.” She replied in a dreamy voice.

“How was your day with Tyler? Or was that a complete lie as well?” I asked, turning my head to look at her.

She shrugged. “It was at first. After his detention he came to find me and we—well we sort of spent the day together.” She answered. “It was nice, Vic.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. . .”

Before I could question her further, the door opened with a loud bang as it collided with a dresser positioned behind it. Both Dominique and I sprung up from our previous position and found Layla advancing towards us. She looked angry—seething, in fact. She was the angriest I’ve ever seen her.

“Layla, what happened?” Dom asked, her voice a bit panicked.

“What happened?” she demanded. “I’ll tell you what fucking happened. Desmond asked Sylvia out on a date, that’s what fucking happened.”

Oh Merlin, this can’t end well.

Chapter 10: Slytherin Matches and Dirty Troll's leg
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Ten

Victoria Rose

In short, breakfast the next morning was unbelievably cold. Colder than the Slytherin common rooms. I was planted in between Layla and Desmond, which was probably the most awkward seat in the entire Great Hall. Layla has built a large, cold wall in between her and Desmond who, by the way, was eating his breakfast in silence, most likely wondering what he has done wrong.

For the next hour or so, I chose my movements carefully, afraid that I would somehow start a fire that I would not be able to put out. Dominique and James seemed to have noticed this as well, since I caught them stealing worried glances towards the two.

The only two people actually speaking were Dominique and Tyler.

“Tyler, will you please eat your breakfast and stop staring at me?

“But Dom, you’re just so beautiful. I rather starve to death than take my eyes off of you for just one moment.”

It was corny, and a bit ridiculous, but it was unbelievably cute.

The worst part of this entire ordeal was that there was a Quidditch Game today. Yes, it was the Slytherin VS. Gryffindor game, and two of the best players on the team were troubled, distraught, and not to mention, acting like a bunch of babies. Two out of the three chasers were having their own little (completely one sided) cold war. The three of us are supposed to work together on the pitch—completely trust each other—or else we’ll end up looking like the Slytherin’s; ridiculous and stupid, which would in turn, cost us the game.

I was positive that Potter would not let that happen.


Why was he allowing this cold wall in between his two best chasers to grow larger and larger?

“Hey, Desmond.”

Oh dear, sweet, mother of frogs and flies. This is not good.

“Sylvia.” Desmond turned around and opened his mouth for the first time since he arrived.

There she was, standing before him with her arms awkwardly wrapped around her midsection. I could tell she was nervous, which was understandable, considering this was probably the first time she spoke to Desmond, instead of shouting at him.

She shifted her feet and looked around for a moment. “Good luck today.” Sylvia finally said. “I really do hope Gryffindor beats Slytherin.”

I watched with disgust as Des offered her a small smile. “Thanks. We definitely will.”

Not when you and Layla are like this, we’re not.

She nods—another awkward move—and walks away without another word.

What a strange girl, that one.

It wasn’t long until the game finally started. The Great Hall slowly cleared as students rushed to the Quidditch Pitch before all the good seats were gone. By the time breakfast was over, only Desmond, Potter, Layla and I (with a few other insignificant students, of course) were left in the Great Hall. Potter was still chewing on some left over bacon, while I absentmindedly picked off pieces from a blueberry muffin sitting on a plate.

That blueberry muffin was the only one that was not acting like an awkward prick at the moment, and it was currently my favorite thing here.

Hi there, muffin. Would you like to be my new best friend?

People don’t normally eat their best friends, do they.

Darn it.

“We better get to the pitch.” Potter said, finally breaking the silence. “Vicky, stop looking at that muffin like it’s your lover.”

I scowled openly at Potter. At least my muffin cared about my feelings.

Nevertheless, I stood up and followed Potter out of the Great Hall, knowing that Desmond and Layla were bound to follow suit. There’s no way in Merlin’s bed that they would last more than thirty seconds sitting alone in the same vicinity.

Once we reached the doors of the Great Hall, I turned around, and there they were, following suit.

“Hey Vicky.” Potter brought my attention away from my two idiot best friends, causing me to whip my head around so fast that I wouldn’t be surprised if I got whiplashed. To my surprise, he was standing incredibly close to me; entirely too close for comfort.

Strangely enough, my body felt differently.

My heart sped up, and it took a while to catch my breath. It was hiding deep in my throat, along with my voice and the rest of my goddamn mind. All because of sodding Potter and my unfortunate situation.

Surprisingly, he smiled at me.

I was expecting something along the lines of a joke, or maybe a small miniature prank before a big game.

But no.

This time, Potter actually smiled at me.

And it was a bloody amazing smile. His eyes shined (I know that’s a bloody corny thing to say, but I swear to Merlin that I saw his eye twinkle in the freaking light), and his unbelievably cute dimple appeared and said hello. Okay, it wasn’t his dimple, it was his scar. But boy, was it amazing.

I swear, time just stopped.

All I could focus on was Potter and his beautiful features. His eyes bore into mine, and all I could think about was how amazing it felt to be locked under his gaze; to be standing so close to his perfect body.

After what felt like ages, he tore his eyes away from my own, allowing it to drift lower down my face. I wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Perhaps it was my nose, or my lips. Or possibly my chin? Regardless, his eyes found mine once more, and his smile, if it was even possible, grew wider.

“Good luck today.” He said quietly. “Do your best, yeah? Try not to get yourself hit by a bludger or anything.”

I stared at him, bewildered. Did Potter just . . . did he just wish me good luck?

It seems like this year is filled with first timers.


Twenty minutes into the game, I wanted to beat Desmond and Layla with Tyler’s beater bat. I wanted to take the bloody bat and beat their bloody heads until their brains popped out of their ears. How could two amazing Quidditch players be stupid enough to allow outside emotions to conflict with the game? THE GAME THAT WE’VE EXCESSIVELY TRAINED FOR, THEREFORE, BEING THE GAME THAT WE MUST—emphasis on must—WIN! If we didn’t win the fucking game, I was going to kill myself with my own wand. I went through hell just to prepare for this game (not that it was my fault of course. It was Potter’s—the Quidditch Nazi—fault).

We were down fifty points, (the score being 100-50) since Layla and Desmond would not bloody cooperate with each other. Whenever Layla was in possession of the quaffle, the quaffle would either be passed to me, EVEN WHEN DESMOND WAS WIDE OPEN or intercepted by a Slytherin, EVEN WHEN DESMOND WAS WIDE OPEN. Whenever Desmond gained possession of the quaffle, it almost became impossible to pry it out of his bloody hands. It seems as though he’d do anything just to score, possible to show Layla that he was capable of playing Quidditch.


Now, the worst part of the entire game, is when I have the quaffle. You see, being one of the three chasers leaves two other chasers to play with. These two
Chasers happen to be my best friends. When I have possession of the Quaffle, suddenly, all Slytherins back off and they’re suddenly by my side, demanding for possession. If I throw it to Layla, Desmond goes off thinking that I think he’s a ‘useless tosspot’, and when I pass it to Desmond, Layla thinks that I’m taking his side.

Honestly, what the fuck?

This is QUIDDITCH. Not a fucking teenage movie.

“Victoria!” I heard Potter roar as he flew over me. I had finally gained possession after many tries, and I was currently heading for the goals. Tyler and Fred aimed bludgers towards incoming Chasers while Desmond and Layla seemed to have been doing a marvelous job distracting the Slytherin beaters as they raced towards me. “You better make this one in!”

“No shit, Potter!” I shouted in return. “No, I’m going to drop the fucking quaffle and allow the Slytherins to win one of our most important games of the year! Do you honestly think I’m that stupid?”

Suddenly, a bludger came soaring across the pitch, missing me by an inch, but enough to divert me away from the goal posts.

“Vicky! I’m open!” Desmond called from my right.

I looked straight ahead and found one of the Slytherin Chasers zooming towards me. However, I was determined, and I tightened my grip on both the quaffle and my broomstick before I sped faster towards the Slytherin. As the space between us closed, I dove in a triple axle loop.

It wasn’t long before I found myself colliding into something hard. My vision blurred and I felt the quaffle slip out of my arms. My hands frantically searched for my broomstick, but I couldn’t feel anything but air. A haze of blue and white filled my vision, and once I focused, all I could see was the beautiful blue sky, staring right at me.

Was I falling?

I felt rather ridiculous for asking such a question, but at this point, I wasn’t too sure what was happening to me. What did I bump into? Am I going to pass out?

So I closed my eyes.

It was sort of natural for me, to close my eyes when I was too scared to know what was going on.

“What the fuck, Vic.”

I peeled my eyes opened, and found an angry looking Potter staring at me. I examined at my surroundings and became aware that I was still in the air.

“Potter?” I asked, dazed and confused.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued flying while he carefully balanced me in front of him on his broomstick. I noticed that the game came to a halt while the players lined up on separate sides of the pitch.

“What’s going on?” I questioned, turning back to Potter.

“Hooch called a foul against Gryffindor.” Potter answered, his jaw tight and his eyes focused straight forward.

He was angry.

No, he was furious.

I could tell.

He flew straight in the locker rooms before he landed and slowly set me down on my feet. “You alright?” he asked, his jaw still clenched tightly. “Any dizziness or nausea?”

I had to admit, the moment my feet came in contact with the ground, I felt a short wave of dizziness. I wobbled slightly, only to be steadied by Potters large hands. “Easy. Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing?”

I shook my head before I realized what stupid idea it was. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed further.

“I’m fine, Potter. Where’s my broomstick?”

“What the fuck were you thinking flying straight into Goyle like that?” he asked, raising his voice while he successfully disregarded my question.

“Is that who I flew into?”

But Potter didn’t even stop to acknowledge that I had asked a question. “Honestly, Vic, what the fuck were you thinking? Did you even stop and think of looking before trying to pull off a dive like that? What if I wasn’t watching? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

Without even noticing it, I felt an overwhelming feeling of anger wash over me at that precise moment. “Did you ever stop and think that maybe, Goyle flew in to intercept the fucking quaffle while I was doing the dive? The Slytherins may suck, but they’re really good at playing dirty. You of all people should know that, Potter!”

“Don’t get smart with me, Vic. It’s your fault we’re fifty points behind!” He bellowed, advancing towards me.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Desmond and Layla act like babies during the game, and I’m getting blamed for it?

“My fault? Are you kidding me, Potter? Layla and Desmond have been going at it all morning, and you’re blaming me? I’ve been trying my best to keep them in line the entire game!”

“You missed more than half the shots you took.” Potter growled, glowering at me.

“I made most of the shots during the whole game!” I exclaimed with anger. “Don’t you dare accuse me of playing the useless one when I’ve been the one scoring the majority of the points here.”

“Well you need to make more, or else we’re going to lose this game.” He said in a low voice.

My eyes narrowed into slits as I stared at him. “Then catch the fucking snitch before the other seeke—”

He kissed me. Potter fucking kissed me. Right in the middle of my fucking sentence, he kissed me.

His large hands cupped both sides of my face as he pressed his lips closer to mine. I can’t say I wasn’t shocked. For about thirty seconds, I stood there like an idiot with my arms hanging limp by my sides while his lips moved swiftly against mine.

All too soon, Potter pulled away but he didn’t move. However, his hands traveled from my face to my hips. He gripped them tightly before pulling me closer to him and planting his lips on my own once more. This time, my body responded eagerly, despite my rational thinking. My arms slid up his shoulders and around his neck, to deepen the kiss.

What can I say?

Potter was an amazing kisser. The way he kissed my lips so softly, yet with urgency that made me smile mile a fool, forced all rational thinking out of my head and allowed my body to take control. And boy, did my body like this. His hands ran up and down my back and occasionally pushed my hips closer to his. His tongue slid into my mouth, and I opened willingly, absentmindedly groaning slightly as he squeezed my bum. I was on fucking cloud 9, and nothing could bring me out of this high.

Except of course Potter detaching himself from me.

Which is what he did.

I watched, flustered, as he picked up his broom and turned to look at me. His lips were swollen, his hair tousled more than ever, and his eyes looked hungry; animalistic.

“Get to the pitch.” He ordered breathlessly. His chest was heaving up and down, and. . . fuck, he looked downright ravishing. “We have a game to win.”

Potter left the locker rooms first, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

What the fuck was that?


Guess who won the game.


That’s right.

I’m a fucking boss.

I am THE boss.

Even though it was Potter who caught the snitch, it was me who bumped the final score up to 500-240.

That’s right, Slytherins. Suck my ba—

“Hey Vic, you ready?” Desmond poked his head through the door of girls’ dormitory, searching for me. “Layla and Dom are already downstairs.”

“I’m coming.” I called out. I quickly checked my hair and makeup before I ran to my closet and pulled out a long, black cardigan to pull over my tight, black dress. I pulled out a pair of black pumps and slipped them on before I ran over to the doorway. “I need to talk to you before we go downstairs.” I said before Desmond could move.

He looked cautious. “Talk about what?” he questioned slowly.

“You asked out Sylvia.” I stated plainly.

“You told me to do something about it!” he exclaimed resentfully.

“I know, I know. I suppose I can’t exactly be mad at you for it. But. . . honestly, Des, can’t you tell what this is doing to Layla?”

“Is that why she’s been so out of it lately?” he asked as if a light bulb lit up on top of his head.

I slapped my palm to my forehead. “You can be so incredibly thick sometimes, you know that?”

His expression changed, and I could tell he was ready to defend himself against any insult or accusation I throw at him. Before he could open his mouth, I put my hand up in front of him and said, “Just be careful, okay? Layla is my friend too, and she’s pretty pissed that you’re with Sylvia now.”

“I’m not with Sylvia.” He corrected. “It’s only a date.”

“And dating leads to other things.” I said. “Just, please? Don’t dangle this in front of Layla’s face or anything. If you do, I’ll kick you in the balls, I promise you I will.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled me out of my dormitory before he shut the door behind me. “Yes, mother.” He sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and leading me down the staircase. The sound of the blaring music grew louder and louder with every descending step. The party sounded wild; uncontrolled; rowdy; it sounded like a Gryffindor party.

“I miss you Vic.” Des said softly before we reached the last step.

I turned to him and smiled softly, touched by his words. Sure, we saw each other every day, but ever since the whole Potter incident, my daily time with Desmond grew shorter and shorter.

“I miss you too, Des.” I replied sadly.

He kissed my forehead tenderly before the entire common room ruined our little moment. Both Desmond and I turned to find Dominique and Tyler snogging, smack in the middle of the common room. They were both standing on the coffee table, drawing attention from every single eye in the room. Several people wolf-whistled and cheered, and I was positive I heard Layla’s voice somewhere in the background cheering Dominique on for snogging a boy in public, like so.

They looked like they were about to rip each other’s clothes off.

I looked away, and found Desmond smirking at the couple.

“I suppose you, being you, already knew this was going to happen some day?” I asked nonchalantly.

He grinned down at me. “Why do you think I shot Tyler with an arrow?” he asked. “I’m not that completely moronic, mind . . . you.”

I turned around, sensing that there was something wrong. Desmond’s eyes were currently fixed on something (more like someone) across the room. His jaw tightened, and I could feel his arm slipping from my shoulder. I followed his gaze and my eyes fell on Layla.

Oh shit.

She was leaning against the wall while a tall, blonde boy talked her up. At least that’s what it looked like from here. She was laughing, and he was smiling down at her. Every now and then, she’d push her hair behind her ear, throw her head back with laughter or slightly touch his arm. Wow, she was really flirting.

My baby girl is flirting.

I’m slightly proud.

But slightly disappointed that it wasn’t with Desmond.

“Des. . .” I began, gently placing my hand on his arm.

“I’m going to go look for James.” And then he was gone.

I knew he wasn’t going to look for James. He was going to go and sulk. That’s Desmond’s M.O. He sulks and shoots arrows: the life of a Cupid.

James. Potter. Potter kissed me. The mere thought was enough to send me over the edge.

I sighed heavily and ran my hand through my hair. “I need a fucking drink.” My eyes scanned the common room, searching for the usual bar Potter sets up during Gryffindor Parties. We were known for offering the best booze and music, which was basically what a good party consisted of. I finally spotted the bar by the bookshelves on the other side of the common room.

It was a challenge pushing through the crowd just to get to liquor, but it was worth it. “Give me Troll’s leg with a hint of Dragon’s blood, dirty. Thanks.”

“Troll’s leg with a hint of Dragon’s blood?” An unfamiliar voice approached me. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

I turned and found myself staring into the familiar eyes of Austin Willow. “Austin.” I greeted. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He smiled at me with kind eyes. “Yeah, fancy that.”

The bartender, a fellow seventh year Slytherin, returned with my drink. “Extra dirty. You look like you could use it tonight.” He said with a wink.

“You,” I began, pointing at him. “Are officially my favorite person in this room.”

The bartender chuckled. “What can I get for you?” he asked Austin.

“Firewhiskey.” Austin said, rapping his knuckles on the wooden bar.

“Ah, you’re a straight, conservative fellow, aren’t you?” I asked, judging him by his drink.

He turned to me, clearly amused. “What makes you say that?”

“Of all these choices, you choose fire whiskey. It’s a very plain and common, manly and a very strong drink.” I answered before taking a sip of mine. It was strong, and I loved it. “You don’t like change, and I can bet you order a firewhiskey every time you’re set to drink.”

The bartender set the firewhiskey in front of him, and Austin uttered a polite ‘thank you’. “You must be in parties like these often.” He said before taking a swig of his drink. “I reckon you’re the kind of girl that sits by the bar ordering all kinds of drinks and watches her friends have fun. Only a girl that drank a lot would know to order a Troll’s leg with Dragon’s blood dirty.”

I smiled slightly. “I dance too, did you know?” I downed my drink, and set the empty glass on the surface of the bar.

“No,” Austin said with a mix of sarcasm and disbelief. “A nice, innocent girl like you, dance in a party like this? You must be more badass than I though.”

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my hand around the new glass that appeared beside my empty one. “Please. I play Quidditch, I’m well acquainted with the Weasleys and the Potters, and not to mention, I’m best friends with Desmond Pierce.” The bartender walked by and I requested another drink, except this time, stronger.

Austin laughed, clearly amused. “Not to mention, you’re dating Quidditch Extraordinaire James Potter.” He added and took a drink. “Speaking of the boyfriend, what is he doing not dancing with you?”

I shrugged and took a drink. “Probably off somewhere with Desmond.”

The mention of Potter’s name sent shiver down my spine. Our previous kiss in the locker rooms sprang into my mind and instantaneously felt my body yearn for him.

No, I did not miss him.

I definitely did not miss him.

It was the alcohol and Cupid’s arrow talking.

“What a foolish, foolish boy.” He shook his head. “If I were Potter, I’d never let a hot, feisty thing like you out of my sight.”

“And why’s that?”

Austin gave me a smoldering look. “Just incase any sex-crazed male out there tries to steal you from me.”

“Ah, so you’re the possessive kind.” I summarized. “Jealous and possessive?”

He chuckled and downed the last of his firewhiskey. “Just careful.”

“Careful is good.” I commented. “Jealous and possessive bad.”

Austin chuckled again. “Would you like another one?” he asked, pointing to my now empty glass. I hadn’t even noticed I finished it. “You’re drinking a little too fast, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “I’m not a cheap drunk, which is very fortunate.”

“I like a girl that can handle her liquor.”

“Well in that case, you’ll love me.” I said, laughing softly.

Austin fell silent, and I looked up to see what he was doing. Unexpectedly, my eyes met his, and I became conscious of the fact that he had been staring at me this whole time. A small smile settled on his lips, and I could tell that he was trying to convey something undecipherable through his eyes.

They were gorgeous. His eyes I meant. They were a nice mixture between blue and green, with specks of brown scattered amongst the pigment. Any sane girl in this room would fall for him in a snap. He was funny, nice, smart and sensitive, which is something men lack in today’s society.

Why wasn’t I attracted to this boy at all?

He was flirting with me, and I supposed I was flirting back. But not once did I ever find myself attracted to him.

It’s cause he’s not Potter, stupid.


“Would you like to dance?” Austin asked, breaking through my thoughts.

And he’s a gentleman as well.

I nodded with slight hesitation.

He took my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor. It was a haze of bodies, moving rhythmically against one another, matching the beat of the music. We were surrounded by horny, drunk teenagers who were dancing way too inappropriate for a girl and a boy who had no (as in not allowed) relationship whatsoever. I had a ‘boyfriend’, and that boyfriend of mine was James Potter.

Nevertheless, we danced—a bit awkwardly, but we danced. He laughed at my apparent shyness, and I couldn’t help but giggle at his complete lack of dancing skills. I supposed anyone who walked by would call this reckless flirting. To be completely honest, I call this slightly-tipsy-girl-dancing-with-boy-who-is-just-a-friend. It’s a pretty accurate adjective if you ask me.

“Okay I admit, you’re a pretty good dancer.” Austin complemented as the beat of the song slowed.

“And you are rather entertaining on the dance floor.” I replied with a giggle. “Tell me, where ever did you learn those horrid dance moves?”

“My dance moves are perfectly acceptable, thank you very much.” He replied indignantly. “I’m sorry I’m not on your level yet.”

I laughed, throwing my head back in the process. “Maybe if we got a bit more alcohol in you, you’ll be able to work your way up there.”

“And I think if you drink anymore, you’ll wake up with an extremely revolting headache in the morning.”

“Haven’t you heard? It’s not a Gryffindor party unless you wake up with a hangover. Pot—James personally see’s to that.”

“Potter is still MIA I see.” Austin said, looking around the common room. “Are you sure he’s with Desmond.”

I shrugged, unsure of what to say. As far as Austin knew, James and I were dating. I reckoned the girlfriend usually keeps tabs on the boyfriend. “I saw him with Tyler a not a moment ago.” I lied; I lied rather badly.

Curious myself, I looked around and searched for Potter’s familiar messy head of hair. “He’s probably around here somewhere. . .” I murmured. I noticed that I was suddenly unsure of who I was trying to convince; Austin or myself. “Oh, there he i—”

I spotted Potter sitting on an armchair by the fire.

I also spotted Amelie Elkin on an armchair by the fire.

Guess fucking what?

They were sitting on the same armchair.

See, the thing with armchairs, is that they’re made for one person to sit on. It’s a one person chair. Not a two person chair, a one person chair. What good is an armchair if one can’t put both their arm on the fucking armrest? Otherwise it wouldn’t be called an armchair. It’d be called a fucking loveseat or a couch. But no. This one was an armchair. An armchair for one.

So why the fuck is Amelie on Potter’s lap snogging the pants off of him?

What the fuck was she even doing in the Gryffindor Common Room? The bitch was in Slytherin. Slytherin lost the fucking Quidditch match. SO WHY WAS SHE IN HERE?! WHO THE FUCK LET HER IN.

Merlin, I think this alcohol is starting to sink in.

“What the fuck.” I breathed out loud unintentionally.

Before Austin could input another comment, I swiftly turned around and pushed my way towards the bar. “Give me another drink and keep them coming.” I ordered the bartender. “Make it strong, please.”

“I’m sorry.” Austin said once he reached me. “About Potter, I’m sorry.”

I scoffed bitterly. “You didn’t put that blonde on his lap.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But regardless, I’m sorry.”

I ignored his useless apology and reached over the bar, grabbing the entire bottle of Tequila from the bartender’s hand. “I’ll just take this entire thing then, thanks.”

And then I fled.

The last thing I saw before I disappeared up the staircase was Ginger Star staring right into my eyes.

Desmond Pierce

Mallory Pope.

Seventeen years old; Hufflepuff.

She enjoyed sunsets and walking on a beach.

Honestly, who doesn’t fucking love doing that shit?

Mother of Merlin, I was bored out of my mind.

How could anyone be so goddamn boring?

I picked the wrong blonde.

I thought she was a Ravenclaw, which is mostly why I approached her in the first place. Throughout our Hogwarts years, James and I have learned that the Ravenclaws are the best. They’re smart and feisty, yet quiet and conservative.

It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.

This is definitely, definitely true.

“Desmond?” I turned around, entirely too thankful that someone had come to save me from this miserable, miserable conversation. It was a redhead. Ginger Star, James’ neighbor and Al’s lifetime crush since he was a child.

“Ginger! Oh I’m so sorry, I forgot about that thing!” I exclaimed, shooting out of my seat.

A look of confusion spread across her face as she watched me walk practically sprint towards her. “Sorry Mallory. I’ve got to go do this thing that I forgot to do, over there with the thing, and yeah I really have to go. Bye!” And before she could say another word, I guided Ginger through the large mass of people before we found a clearing near the portrait hole. “Thank Merlin you came.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Why on earth are Hufflepuffs so boring?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Desmond, but I didn’t know who else to tell this to.” She ignored my question and began. “I saw Victoria run upstairs with a bottle of, was it Gin or Tequila? I’m not entire too sure, but she looked distraught, and then I found James over there with . . .”

I’m going to kill him.

I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.

I’m going to wring his fucking neck until he can’t breathe, and then do it all over again as a form of torture.

Because that’s what fucktarts deserve.

And James fucking Potter is a motherfucking fucktart who cheated on his fake girlfriend—who happens to be my best friend—who is head over heels in love with him.

It’s a shame that my arrows can’t protect these innocent souls from the pains of heartbreak.

James Potter

I was intoxicated.

By both this girl and alcohol.

I had been snogging Amelie since she pounced on me the moment she walked into this common room. There were several questions that popped into my mind the moment she stepped through the portrait hole, but they all flew right out once I felt her soft lips moving against mine once again. Before I knew it, she pushed me down on an armchair and straddled me before I could even object.

She smelt amazing.

And her body felt unbelievable beneath my hands.

I made my way up her legs and around her bum. I groaned as she ground her hips against mine.

We went at it for what felt like hours. I could never get tired of kissing her. It was like sitting on a could, and simply waiting to be transferred to heaven. I could kiss her all day for the rest of my fucking life.

It was just so fucking amazing that I couldn’t even fully comprehend anything but the things her body was doing above mine.

All too soon, everything ended, and I was left wondering why life was so cruel to take something as beautiful as Victoria away from me.


What the fuck. I just said Victoria.



Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I opened my eyes and jumped slightly when I found Desmond glowering at me. His hand was wrapped around Amelie’s arm while his other was wrapped around his wand.


Awesome, James. That’s the only thing you can think of after you’ve realized you’ve fucked up? ‘Des’? Fucking ‘Des’? Apologize your ass out of this one!

“Shit, Des, I’m sorry.” I said, immediately standing up. “I didn’t know what I was doing. Shit, where’s Vic? Fuck, shit, fuck. I’m so sorry.”

He turned away from me and directed his attention towards Amelie. “I don’t know how you got in here, but I expect you to be smart enough to understand that there are no Slytherins allowed in this common room except those who serves drinks. If you happen to be one of those people, then get your arse behind the bar and start serving. If not, then get out or else your house will be notified of your presence at a Gryffindor party.”

Amelie immediately gave me a pleading look but I turned away, unable to deal with her at the moment. I felt disgusting, dizzy, nauseous, and not to mention, guilty beyond belief.

“Fine.” She huffed. With a stomp, she turned around and disappeared in the mob of dancers.

“Victoria ran up to our dorm with a bottle of alcohol.” Before I could even open my mouth to speak, Desmond held up his hand and silenced me. “I don’t give a shit about what sort of row the two of you are in at the moment, or if she’s one wrong move away from blasting your head off of your shoulders. Go find her, and fucking fix it.” He growled with a tight, set jaw.

I obliged, knowing better than to push Desmond’s buttons even further when he was raging mad. Victoria was like his little girl. And I just hurt her. If I were him, I’d hate me too.

I attempted to make quick with the stairs, which was a rather difficult feat to do when one was as intoxicated as I was. Everything was so incredibly dark and fuzzy, it was giving me a headache. I couldn’t see a fucking thing. I walked into the sixth years boys dormitory and flicked the light on before I scanned the room for any signs of Victoria.

The room was as messy as ever, and there were absolutely no signs of Victoria anywhere.

And then I spotted the bottle of alcohol on Desmond’s bedside table. An entirely new wave of guilt washed over me the moment it registered in my mind that the lump beneath Desmond’s duvet was indeed, Victoria. Desmonds bed and an empty dormitory was her refuge, which could only mean one thing.

I fucked up big time.

“Vic.” I said as I slowly approached his bed. Making my way to her was a fucking challenge. It was difficult to find my balance, therefore, difficult for me to go more than two feet without tripping on an object. “Vic.” I said again.

She shifted beneath the duvet but she did not pull it down.

I groaned and finally plopped myself down beside her. “I’m sorry.” I said, staring at the canopy of the bed. “I’m so fucking sorry that I’m such a fuck up.” She still did not move. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Vicky.”

“Go away, Potter.”

She was fucking driving me insane. I felt bipolar whenever it came to Victoria. If she was there to annoy me, I hated it. If she was mad at me, I hated it. When she was gone, I hated it. When she was happy, I hated it. When she was sad, I hated it.

What the fuck.

“Vic,” I whispered, nudging her a bit.

“I said go away.”

There’s no way in Merlin’s stinky bathroom cupboard that I would go away without having you hear me out first, you understand that Vicky?

“Vicky,” I whispered again, staring at her figure through the duvet. My mind was fuzzy and I knew that the filter in between my brain and my mouth had vanished after the seventh shot of vodka. I watched her breathe steadily beneath the covers, instantly having the urge to wrap my arms around her and sleep by her side. No, not to fuck. Just to sleep, in the most innocent way possible. I wanted to apologize a thousand times over until she forgave me with every inch of her heart. I wanted to give her so much, but I couldn’t.

“You—you can’t expect things from me anymore.” I found myself saying. “You shouldn’t expect anything from me anymore. I—I can’t give you the t—things you want. Merlin, I can’t even stay faithful to a fake girlfriend.” I laughed bitterly. “I’m no good, Vic. Everyone knows it. Hell, even Desmond knows it. My own brother knows it. I’m only good for girls who are broken beyond repair. Girls who are fucked up, just like me. I never go for good girls like you because they all deserve someone better, someone who can treat them like a fucking princess. Fuck, Vic, you of all girls deserve a prince that can give you everything you want. Not someone like me. Never someone like me. If I were Desmond, if I were anyone close to you, I would never even let you go near me. Please, Vic, don’t love me anymore. . . all I know how to do is hurt you, and I can’t bear that.”

I felt movement beside me, and Victoria’s blonde hair suddenly appeared from the duvet. “James. . .” She was staring at me. With her large eyes, she stared.

My eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips.

Her luscious lips.

I reached forward and kissed her sloppily.

It was short, and chaste. Nothing passionate; nothing like the kiss we shared during the Quidditch match.

“Please, Vic.” I said, hovering over her as I stared into her eyes. “Just stop it. You ca—don’t love me anymore. Please. . .”

So let’s drink and get drunk.
For a drunken mind,
Speaks a sober heart.

Chapter 11: Bombshell Common Rooms and Territorial Dogs
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Eleven

Victoria Rose

The Gryffindor party the previous night was definitely a success in the book of James Potter. The following morning, the common room was trashed with plastic cups and torn down decorations, and littered with sleeping teenagers. Half were fully clothed, about a forth half naked, and the last fourth, completely naked. This was definitely the aftermath of a Gryffindor party.

It was close to noon when I decided to drag my pounding head out of bed and trudge down to the common room. Desmond, Potter and Tyler would usually be cleaning up by now, which justified my astonishment once I found the human bomb that had exploded in the common room. Clothes, food and plastic cups were littered all over the floor while various knocked out students were spread out on every surface possible.

There was a boy sleeping on top of a bookshelf. Another curled up in a cabinet, and about two more snoring away in the fireplace while hugging whatever was left of the firewood.

I grumbled under my breath with anger. “Potter.”

I had a pounding headache and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed. But Professor McGonagall would begin to suspect something once she realized that half the castle is MIA on this fine, Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately for me, I cared too much for Desmond to allow that.

I grumbled again. “Fuck these boys.”

Clumsily stepping over a body, I slowly trudged up the stairs of the boys’ dormitory and pounded on Desmonds’ door.

“Who the fuck am I kidding, none of them are going to wake up.” I told myself after a few more seconds of pounding. I turned the knob and walked right in with a loud bang, which I seriously regretted. The obnoxiously loud noise ripped through my brain and began poking through my sockets from the inside out. I shut my eyes tightly in attempt to compose myself.

I found Desmonds’ bed and, immediately skipping the whole procedure of beating around the bush, flipped his mattress over. His half naked body toppled onto the other side of the bed with a loud thump. “What the fuck?!”

The sound of the voice caused my breath to hike up my throat.

That voice definitely did not belong to Desmond.

“Potter.” Was all I managed to say.

He groaned loudly, clearly frustrated. “What the fuck, Victoria? What are you doing here?” It looked like he was restraining himself from throwing something hard at me.

“It’s almost twelve.” I stated plainly as last night’s events came flooding back into my mind. “The common room is still trashed.”

Not everyone had fun at that party last night.

But Potter surely did.

With his little slut of a girlfriend, Amelie Elkin.

“So what?” he grumbled, snuggling back into his blanket and completely disregarding the fact that he was lying on his hard, dirty floor.

“The common room is a mess, and you boys have not cleaned up yet. McGonagall is doing to throw a fit if she see’s the bomb that exploded downstairs.”

“Tell Des to clean it up.”

“We have to leave for Victoire’s wedding in an hour.” I reminded him. “Get up off your arse and get to cleaning.”

I grabbed the pillow on his bed and aimed for his head.

Bulls eye.

“Get the fuck out of here, Vic!” Potter shouted once the pillow collided with his face. “Annoying little twit.”

I threw another pillow at him.

“What the hell is your problem?!” he shouted.

“You’re my problem!” I retorted angrily as I raise my voice at him.

All this screaming was giving me a headache.

Moral of this pounding headache? Never, ever have more than one glass of Dirty Troll’s Leg mixed with Dragon Blood.

At least not if it’s extra dirty.

“Shit, Vic, stop fucking screaming will you?” Potter asked, closing his eyes tightly. “You’re making my brain hurt.”

“Your complete lack of intelligence is making my brain hurt.” I threw a shirt at his face. “Get up and get dressed. Wake Des and Tyler up while you’re at it.”

I walked out of their dormitory and ran straight into mine. I fell into my bed, which welcomed me back with open arms, and fell straight to sleep


“Victoria! Get up for fuck’s sake!” I woke up to Dominique incessantly screaming into my poor ears. “We have to leave in thirty minutes!”

“What the fuck, Dom. Would you stop screaming?” Layla’s voice was next to penetrate my mind. She probably had a hangover too. I wonder what she did last night at the party. “Vic, would you please get your arse into the bathroom so this banshee can stop screaming?”

I grumbled and rolled over. The sun was the first to meet my splendid face, causing me to groan louder. “What time is it?” I asked sleepily.

“One-thirty.” I heard Layla reply. “Train is leaving in half an hour. We all overslept.”

“This is why we should have all left last night.” Dominique interjected in a very I-told-you-so-but-you-guys-never-listen-to-me manner. “Shit, Victoria, get into the fucking shower already!” I noticed the two of them were already dressed in dark denim shorts and plain t-shirts. “We’ll pack your shit, just hurry up!”

Afraid of angering Dominique further, I jumped out of bed and took the fastest shower I ever took in my entire life. In less than ten minutes time, I was out of the bathroom and rummaging through my closet for something to wear. I pulled out a pair of denim shorts and Desmond’s old Wicked Ogre’s t-shirt. I dried my hair while I pulled out a random bra and underwear.

It just so happens that I picked out the two most scandalous piece of clothing I owned. Crimson red lace. I, unfortunately, didn’t have time to be picky.

I pushed on my favorite pair of aviators because the sunlight was ridiculously blinding, and deemed myself ready.

“Are we changing in the hotel?” I asked Dominique as we lugged our trunks out the door.

“Either there or at the Potter’s. I prefer the Potters. Ginny’s bathroom is amazing.” Dom answered quickly.

After about five minutes filled with several collisions with the ground, Layla, Dominique and I found ourselves in the surprisingly clean common room and in the company of the rest of the Weasley/Potter clan and their dates/friends, waiting for the three idiots to graze us with their presence.

Once they finally arrived, the entire mob rushed into the carriage that was waiting for us outside the castle. In about ten minutes, we were dropped off in Hogsmeade where the entire mob rushed into the steaming train.

“We made it!” Dominique exclaimed.

“Nice going, moron.” Lily spat as she glared at her older brother. The one who was late, of course. “You three almost made us miss the train!”

Potter scowled at Lily and brought his large hand up to cover her face. “Just shut up, Lils, don’t talk.”

She growled beneath his hand and roughly shoved him away from her. “You are just so lucky that we caught the train in time.”

“The train takes us back home. Why do we have to be on time if we’re the only passengers?” Fred asked from behind Lily.

“The train is magically operated.” Albus answered from beside Desmond. “It leaves right on the dot.”

Fred completely ignored Albus’ reply once he noticed the redhead that was standing behind him. “Ginger Star?” his tone sounded incredulous, and I immediately knew that this would not go well. “My, my, my, Albus. Ginger is your date?” A smirk played on his lips as a scowl crawled up to Albus’ face. “I’m not judging, little cuz. I’m just a little bit proud that you finally got your girl after all these years.”

“Freddie,” Rhiannon warned from behind him. “Don’t push his buttons.”

“Yes, Freddie. Don’t push my buttons.” Albus retorted in a patronizing manner.

I don’t know if it was just me, but Weasley family fights (amongst the kids of course) were always fun to watch. I had to biggest urge to draw up a chair and get myself some popcorn as my eyes flickered back and forth between Albus and Fred.

“We all know what happened the last time you did.” Albus spat.

“That’s because you cheated!” Fred exclaimed resentfully. “Everyone here knows that I could have taken you single handedly.”

There was a scoff that came from beside Tyler. Roxy Weasley stood there with her arms crossed as she rolled her eyes at her older brother.

“Sorry, Rox. What was that? Did you have something to say?” Fred turned around and began advancing on his sister.

“Look at Freddie trying to be all scary.” Albus mocked in a child-like voice. “It’s so cute.”

Before Fred could get his own insult in, James held out his arm and cut through their little fight. “Alright you two. Break it up. Get yourselves in a compartment before the two of you manage to somehow blow up this train.”

He’s not kidding.

It’s happened before.

Blowing something up, I meant. Not blowing up a train.

That would put all of us in a giant pickle…

The entire group dispersed. We all settled within one train car, but we filed ourselves into our own respective compartments. Once the six of us entered an empty one besides Albus and his friends, each of us collapsed onto the seats.

“I’m beat.” Tyler stated, immediately slumping against Dom who was sitting upright against the cushions. “Ugh, we’re about to have a really long night.”

“We told you boys not to have the party last night.” Layla interjected with a sour tone.

I was almost positive that the only reason Layla was so against that party last night was because of the tension that grew between her and Desmond.

Those two.

They just needed to fuck and get it over with.

“And you three, did not listen.” Dominique said, rolling her eyes. “We must now prepare for a Weasley family wedding.”

Dom, on the other hand, was simply too excited for her own good to attend her sisters’ wedding. If I can recall correctly, she had a little school girl crush on Teddy Lupin before Victoire and him got together. Of course, it was only a little school girl crush.

Honestly, who didn’t have a crush on Teddy Lupin when they were young? I personally found him quite attractive and charming.

“Ugh.” Potter groaned at the sound of Victoire’s wedding. “Why did Vic have to choose today of all days to get married?’

For a moment, I thought he was talking about me. Without even knowing it, my heart beat sped up exponentially and I found myself unable to breathe.

And then I realized that he meant Victoire, not Victoria.

Boy, did I feel stupid.

“At least we managed to skip the preparations.” Dom said with a hint of great relief. “Mum and Vic turn into banshee’s on crack when they’re stressed.”

“It’s genetic.” Potter muttered under his breath.

Three. . . Two . . . One! Cue DOMO attack!

“OW!” Potter cried out in pain the moment the tip of Dom’s trainers were impaled upon his shin. “Damn it, Dom!” he cursed loudly. “Fuck,”

I simply turned my attention out the window and shook my head hopelessly.

I wasn’t aware that I had fallen asleep on Desmond’s shoulder until I was being shaken awake by Potter’s large hand.

On my face.

Smothering me in my sleep.

“Ack! Potter!” I shouted loudly, immediately swatting his hand away from my face. My aviators were sitting askew on the bridge of my nose and my hair smothering my face. This must have been a pretty sight. “What do you want?” I grumbled, pulling the glasses off and running my hand through my curls.

He was standing in front of me with his hands buried into the pockets of his designer jeans. “We need to talk.” He announced in a low voice.

My breath suddenly became lost somewhere in the depths of my throat.

Talk? Talk about what? Talk about last night?

What the hell could he have possibly wanted to talk about?

I’m hyperventilating.

In the inside, of course.


I stood up and followed Potter out of the compartment. The walk to another compartment was excruciatingly long. My heart was beating faster than ever, and I found it difficult to stop my mind from wandering into the most ridiculous of all the possibilities. For the next minute, being the longest minute of my life, the only thing I could see was the back of Potter’s head. I suppose it wouldn’t have caused such a racket in my brain if the back of his head could somehow start spouting whatever was on his mind. Unfortunately, the back of his head was just any regular ol’ back-of-the-head. So for that entire, excruciatingly painful minute, I was left to wonder what he could possibly want to talk to me about. Soon enough, we found ourselves a compartment, away from the rest of his family, in the next car.

Potter turned to me.

Oh shit! Here it comes!

He’s going to say it. Holy mother of Merlin’s socks, is this going to be about last night? I’m really not in the mood to talk about last night.

Whatever you do, Victoria, don’t, and I mean don’t say anything stupid!

“I love you.”

For a while, I stood there, rooted at the spot, wondering why Potter said something as silly as ‘I love you’.

Both Potter and I stood in the middle of the compartment, about three feet apart, staring at one another. His hands were in his pockets, and mine were wrapped around my arms.

To describe the situation in one word, it was awkward.

It wasn’t until moments later that I realized it was me who had just uttered something so ridiculous and irrational. So I stared at him some more.

And then I burst out in an obnoxious, high pitched laughter.

I wasn’t sure what brought on the laughter, honest. Maybe it was the horrified expression that appeared onto his face moments after those three words escaped my lips. Maybe it was the simple fact that I actually said ‘I love you’ out loud in a completely inappropriate situation.

Potters’ expression changed from horrified to slightly confused. His eyes narrowed and his head tilted slightly in my direction. “What the bloody hell. . .”

My laughter turned uncontrollable, and soon enough, I was pointing a finger in his direction while throwing my head back in laughter. “You should have seen your face.” I said in between laughter. “You looked so ridiculous.”

“Have you gone bonkers, Vic?” He questioned.

I shook my head, but continued laughing, which most likely told him otherwise. “Sorry. . .” I said with a giggle. “It’s just that after last night, and this strange tension between us, I just went ahead and said I love you.” I laughed a bit harder. “I mean, how could I be so stupid?”

“Last night?” he asked abruptly. “What happened last night?”

My laughter suddenly faded and I recomposed myself. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

For some unknown, strange reason, my heart suddenly sank. The smile faded from my face and my laughter ceased. “You. . . Do you remember anything from the party last night?” I asked, abruptly turning serious. “Anything at all?”

He blinked. “No. Er. . . Did I do something?”

I sighed. Of course he didn’t remember. He drank up a storm the night before. He didn’t remember making out with his Slytherin girlfriend in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. He didn’t remember finding me curled up in Desmond’s bed, and he definitely didn’t remember the way he told me that I deserved someone better than him.

“No.” I answered after letting out a heavy sigh. “No, you didn’t.”

Potter scratched the back of his head in an awkward manner and dropped his gaze to the ground. His hands found their way into his pockets and he suddenly looked awkwardly cute. . .

“So,” he began. “It’s Victoire’s wedding.”

I nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this. “Yes, I think that’s already been established.”

“And we’re going to be around my family for the next few days.” He added. “My entire family who some how knows about us.”

“Knows about what. . .?” I was confused. Where was he going with this?

“They think we’re dating. My cousins have big mouths.” Potter explained.

Ah. . . So this is what he wanted to discuss. “And you want to keep up appearances,” I concluded. “Because otherwise it would be more difficult to explain to your family why we had a sudden ‘break up’.”

Potter nodded as he let out a sigh of relief. “Exactly.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll act the part.” I tell him flatly. “You’ve absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks.” He replied awkwardly.

“No problem.”

We stood in the compartment in silence for a few more awkward moments before I decided that the awkwardness had become too painful. “Er, so I’ll go now. They must be wondering where we’ve gone off to. . .”

Potter nodded again. “Yeah, we should get back.”

“Yes. . .” I stated. “Let’s get back.”

I turned around and made a move to open the door of the compartment before Potter’s voice stopped me. “Hey.” He reached out a hand and grabbed my arm.


“About last night . . .”

Wait hang on.

‘About last night’? Was he lying earlier about not remembering?

“Are you sure nothing happened?”


“Yes, I’m positive.” I answered as I shifted my gaze to the ground. “Again, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

Potter sighed and dropped his hold. “If I’ve done anything, I’m sorry.”

I offered Potter a small smile. “How could you be sorry if you didn’t do anything?”


By the time we arrived at Kings Cross Station, Mrs. Potter—and because I would sound like an utter idiot repeating Mrs. Weasley in reference to completely different people—Angelina Weasley and Hermione Weasley, were already waiting with keys dangling in their hands.

I love how the women were sent to pick the children up.

What a typical male-Weasley move.

“Oh look! The kids are here.” Hermione announced.

“Finally!” Angelina exclaimed with a tone of relief. She adjusted the strap of her handbag on her shoulder and reached out to hug Roxanne. “Fleur and Victoire are hours close to having an aneurism! If you kids showed up any later I think their heads just might blow up.” she rolled her eyes in mid sentence. “Fred, please tell me you haven’t gotten yourself into trouble since the last time I saw you.”

“Oh sure, mum.” Roxanne said in a tone that dripped with sarcasm. “Fred definitely knows how to stay out of trouble. I think it’s his specialty.”

“Oh Roxy, stop it.” Rhiannon said as she wrapped her arms around Fred’s waist. “Your brother is a nice, well behaved student at Hogwarts.”

How Fred Weasley managed to land a girl like Rhiannon McKenzie, I don’t understand.

“And tell me that you two haven’t gotten yourselves into trouble since the last time I had to pay a visit to McGonagall.” Ginny turned to Potter and, surprisingly, Lily. Her arms were folded across her chest and I could almost feel Potter shuddering beneath her glare.

“Mother, you know James can’t stay out of trouble even if he tried.” Lily said, rolling her eyes, as she stepped forward to give her mother a hug. “But yes, I did stay out of trouble this time. I am a good girl and I have absolutely no interest in trying to create trouble in Hogwarts.”

From behind her, Potter scoffed loudly. “Oh please, don’t make me laugh.”

“Ginger!” Ginny explained once she caught sight of the redhead standing beside Albus. “It’s nice to see you again! Are you here with Albus?”

“Mum, please.” Albus begged as he shut his eyes tightly. “Don’t start.”

Ginger on the other hand, laughed. “Hi Mrs. Potter, it’s nice to see you too. And yes, I’m here as Albus’ date.”

A sly smile appeared on Mrs. Potter’s face.

I told you she was amazing.

“Hey Mrs. P.” Desmond greeted, smiling at Ginny who chose to ignore her eldest son. “How goes it?”

“Perfect as usual, Desmond. How are you Victoria, Tyler, Layla?” She asked, smiling widely at the rest of us.

“Wonderful, as usual, Mrs. P.” I replied giving her a big, genuine smile.

I always loved Mrs. Potter. She had a mixture of both Lily and Potter’s personalities. Now, I know that it doesn’t sound like a very good combination, but trust me when I say—Mrs. Potter is awesome.

“So, I’ll take this lot home so that they can get settled in, and we’ll rendezvous at the resort in about an hour?” Mrs. Potter suggested, turning to her sisters in law. “Fred, will you be spending the holiday’s in our house?”

“You know it, Aunt Ginny.” Fred replied in a loud, obnoxious voice.

Eventually, the Potter’s and Weasley’s dispersed from the station. Angelina took Roxanne and her friend back to their house which was only a couple miles away from the Potters’. Hermione took Hugo, Rose and their two respective friends, back to their home near the burrow. The rest of us, Lily, her friend Jeanie, Albus, Ginger, Scorpius, Potter, Layla, Desmond, Tyler, Dominique and I, made our way back to the Potter manor in the Potter’s car which had an enlargement charm on it.

Somehow, despite the enlargement charm placed on the small black car, I still managed to end up being squished in between a very uncomfortable Scorpius, and—whoop-dee-fucking-doo—Potter.

With Lily riding shotgun, and Desmond, Layla, Dominique and Tyler squished in the back, I was stuck in the middle seats with Potter, Scorpius, Ginger, Fred and Jeanie.

I was practically sitting on Potter’s lap.

I might as well have been. It would have been a better arrangement actually. The entire group could spread out more and Ginger wouldn’t be awkwardly pressed up against both Scorpius and Fred.

But Potter and I were the most awkward ‘couple’ in the world, so how could I possibly expect anything different?

I noticed Mrs. Potter constantly eyeing both Potter and I through her rearview mirror. It wasn’t a wear sort of eyeing. I suppose it was pure curiosity. Her son’s best friend’s best friend is now dating the boy who she hated half her life. Mrs. P watched us grow up for the past seven years together with no such interaction other than teasing and arguing, and now, we’re suddenly dating. Who wouldn’t be curious?

“Er, Po—James, do you mind moving your arm a little bit?” I whispered. I was developing a cramp from sitting in the most uncomfortable position ever.

“Er, yeah sorry.” He replied and he began shifting (more like squirming) in his seat. “Is that good?”

“Just move over to the left a bit.”

I lifted my bum off the leather seat and I wanted to cry once I felt the painful sensation of detaching skin from leather. Unfortunately, Mrs. Potter chose that precise moment to slowly drive over (more like clumsily race over) a speed bump.

Thanks to my gift of ultimate and utter clumsiness, I went tumbling headfirst into the headrest of the drivers seat.

As if my collision into the headrest wasn’t enough, a stoplight, which apparently appeared out of no where (or so Mrs. Potter says), decides to turn red.

Honestly, Mrs. Potter has got to be the worst driver in the world.

The car came to an abrupt stop.

“Mum!” Lily screeched as her hands flew out in front of her for protection. “Why? Why couldn’t dad pick us up today?” her question was directed to no one in particular since she stared up at the roof of the car.

“Sorry, guys!” Mrs. Potter apologized quickly. “That stoplight came out of no where! Are you lot alright?”

No. I’m not alright.

I am most definitely not alright. Why? Because my bum had just met the likings of Potter’s lap.


“Victoria, are you alright?” Mrs. Potter called out, her eyes scanning the backseat through the rearview mirror.

His hands immediately reached out to steady me, winding around my waist. Even through my shirt, his hands felt as though they were on fire. It burned through my skin, and no matter how much I wanted to take my mind off of the fact that his touch was protective and almost caring, all I could think about was the way he was holding me at that very moment.


Oh, I almost forgot that Mrs. Potter had asked me a question.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine!” I called back.

From beside me, I heard Scorpius chuckling. “I think it’s best if you just stay that way.” He said as he scooted over in the now empty space beside him. “More room for us, AND who knows what sort of pain you’ll inflict upon yourself without James here acting as your own personal seatbelt.”

I wanted to punch Scorpius in the face.

Scorpius is a nice guy.

Even though he’s a Slytherin and a Malfoy, Scorpius is a very nice guy.

But at that very moment, I had the strongest urge to introduce my fist to his face.

Potter, who had surprisingly sensed this, pulled me closer into him. His arms wrapped themselves around my waist tightly and I could hear him chuckling in my ear. “You’re turning red, Vic.”

I was suddenly weary of the fact that my face felt like it was several degrees above its normal temperature. I quickly turned away in hopes to hide my sudden embarrassment/anger and turned my attention towards the window.

How did I get myself into this situation?

How fucking cliché is this?

I think I have the worst luck ever.

Worst of all, I think I was actually secretly enjoying this.

James Potter

The ceremony was a total bore. I did not understand why couples insisted on going through this long, boring process with a priest and an audience that was probably not even paying any attention to the old geezer. All that really mattered was the last part, no?

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”

That’s all that really mattered and yet, a whole forty five minute speech had to come before.

I was standing beside Teddy as his best man. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Teddy, he was like my brother. But if I had known that I would have to stand for a full hour while listening to this old fart speak for a whole bloody hour, I would not have agreed.

Merlin, I’m never, ever going to do this when I get married.

I just made a joke.

When I get married.

Pft. I’m never going to get married.

I’m going to go pro at Quidditch and have all the fine chicks that I want for the rest of my life. No commitment, no wife to come home to, and no kids to play with at night before bedtime. Yep, just a life filled with Quidditch, partying, drinking, and gi—ha, ha, who am I kidding—fucking.

It sounds amazing, doesn’t it?

My future has been decided.

My dream future, at least.

For the past thirty minutes, my mind has been wandering to any place but this wedding. For the first ten minutes, I’ve been running Quidditch plays in my mind. When the plays eventually became repetitive, I started singing the bloody alphabet backwards. Once I messed up enough, I eventually started imagining the brides mates (those who weren’t related to me in any way, of course), some of which are part Veela, naked. There was a nice party going on in my head for about fifteen minutes before my attention was taken back by the crowd.

I focused on my friends and found Tyler asleep on Desmond’s shoulder. I suppressed a chuckle by pressing my lips together. Of course Tyler would be asleep. How could I possibly expect anything else?

Beside Desmond was Victoria.

Merlin, the moment I laid eyes on her, I found a familiar pair staring back. For a while, they were all I could look at. In any other circumstances, I would feel uncomfortable under her stare. But this time, I was curious, and slightly entranced.

The car ride home clawed its way back into my mind. With her bum on my lap and her mile long legs stretched out on top of mine. She was wearing denim shorts, exposing more skin than usual. Having her on my lap, Merlin, having her body against mine drove me fucking insane.

Did I mention that we were in a moving car? Fuck, there were so many bumps. I don’t know how I managed to hide my hard-on from her, but I did… Hopefully.

I was slightly happy and comforted by the fact that she was my date and off limits to every other single man who will be attending the reception.

For the next ten minutes, I spent my time imagining Victoria naked. Victoria’s naked body on mine. Victoria’s naked body under mine. Victoria’s naked body against the wall, on the floor, on the bed, on a table, on my lap, on a chair, in the middle of this altar. . .

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” The priest brought my attention away from Victoria and towards the now officially married couple.

I absolutely have no idea why Teddy is so set on getting married. He’s only twenty seven, and Victoire is only twenty four. Victoire is bloody mental, and I’d personally be scared shitless to be her husband when she’s having one of her episodes, which occurs often.

The reception that took place several moments later was a lot better than the wedding itself. There were more guests that showed up, and oh hey! Would you look at that! There was food. The food has definitely got to be the best thing that has happened this entire day. Not counting the ample amounts of female veela’s that attended the reception. Merlin I love Fleur’s side of the family.

The moment the buffet opened, Desmond, Tyler, Fred, Scorpius, Albus, and probably ever other male in the Potter/Weasley family, pounced. I suppose we were all thinking the same thing.


I love Victoire. Honestly, I do. But once Fleur and Bill made an arrangement for equal parts of their family to be included into the guest list, we all knew that her wedding had been shot to hell. The Weasleys were the best. They were fun, and they definitely knew how to party. The Delacour’s, now they’re a completely different story.

“Merlin’s balls, if you don’t move faster, these potatoes will find their way up your arse.”

I turned around abruptly, surprised to hear a females voice instead of a males. Well of course, with a language like that, who else was I to expect other than Victoria.

I was slightly amused as I watched her place several slices of beef on the top of her mountain of food. She then reached for the gravy and proceeded to drown her plate in the grey/brown substance.

Fuck. I love a girl that can eat.

She noticed the looks I was giving her. “What?” she asked resentfully. “Excuse me for not eating breakfast or lunch. I’m starving, and I need food to make up for that awful ceremony.”

One thing I loved about Victoria: she wasn’t like every other girl. As I reached for the string beans, my eyes scanned the plates of every other girl on the buffet line. None of them had anything more than mashed potatoes and about two slices of beef with bits of gravy sprinkled on the top. And then there was Victoria, who had a plate that could match mine and Desmonds’.

“Ugh,” I turned back to her at the sound of her voice, and watched curiously as she brought her forefinger into her mouth and sucked on the gravy that strayed from her plate and onto her finger. And then she sucked. Her cheeks sunk in and her mouth tightened around her finger.

I had to suppress a groan right then and there…

Fuck this girl was driving me insane.

“Keep moving Potter, you’re holding up the line.” Her voice broke through my thoughts and forced me to notice that there was a huge gap in between Desmond and I.

“Don’t you think there’s a bit too much on your plate there?” I asked her, striking up a conversation.

She shrugged. “Not really. And if I happened to not be able to finish, Desmond is my little dog when it comes to food.” Victoria offered a cheeky grin; the kind of grin that was undeniably contagious. “Keep moving Potter.”

We ate our food happily. With Victoria sitting close beside me, all thoughts of her were pushed to the back of my mind. I found myself calm and strangely reassured whenever she was sitting beside me. She laughed and smiled as though nothing was wrong. Perhaps at this very moment, there surely was nothing wrong.

Even Layla and Desmond were speaking to each other, even though it was from across the table.

I wasn’t sure what compelled me to do it, but from under the table, I reached for Victoria’s hand and placed it on my lap in the most innocent form of holding hands. I squeezed hers tightly and I felt an odd sensation when she squeezed back.

What was happening? I, James Sirius Potter, was suddenly the type of bloke to sit here and hold hands? I was suddenly the type of bloke to sit here and bask in my girlfriend’s happiness, which was something that brought me happiness as well? What the fuck.

“Would you care to dance?” An unfamiliar man from Victoire’s year at Hogwarts approached Victoria with his hand outstretched.


First off, she was not finished with her dinner. There was still about a quarter left of her food on her plate, and there was a fork in the hand that was not holding mine. What kind of person interrupts another person’s dinner for a fucking dance?

Second, her hand was clearly sitting on my lap. Wouldn’t that ring a bell to someone who’s not a complete idiot that—oh I don’t know—she was fucking taken?

Well... Alright, she’s not really taken. But as far as the rest of my family is concerned, she’s my girlfriend.

Victoria stared at him.

Yeah, prepared to experience the great bit “NO” that is Victoria. There’s no way in Merlin’s testicles that she’s going to leave her precious food to dance with some bloke that she does not even know.




Victoria released my hand and placed her napkin on the table before she offered her hand to the stupid, dumbarse bloke that had asked her to dance.

What the fuck did this woman think she was doing? Dancing with other blokes at my cousin’s wedding.

My hand balled up into a fist until my knuckles went white. From the corner of my eye, I watched as the (still unnamed) bloke put his hands on Victoria. I swear, I could see his hands inching down her bum.

I growled under my breath.

Victoria Rose

Merlin, please shoot me.

Just shoot me right now. Please, just fucking shoot me.

“Mah fahvoriete soobject en Hoogwurztzz huz goat tuh beehehee dihvineatun”


His stupid, thick Bulgarian accent made it difficult to understand anything he said.

“Er, come again?” I asked as he continued swaying me in an awkward manner.

(Okay, to be totally honest, it wasn’t that thick, and he didn’t sound that ridiculous)

“My favorite subject in Hogwarts has to be divination.” He repeated.

I think this bloke is the only nutter who finds Hogwarts Divination to be the best class ever.

“Oh, well—that’s rather lovely and interesting.” I replied, trying my hardest to be polite.

Insults and sarcasm were clawing at my tongue, begging to be let out. But this bloke was a stranger, and I was raised to be polite to strangers, no matter how dumb or idiotic they may be.

“In my final year of Herbology, I attempted to climb the Whomping Willow as my end of term assignment.”

What the balls…

“Er...” I began, unsure of what to say in situations like these. “Did you at least cast a ‘Finite’ charm?”

“Whut’s a finite charm?”

Merlin’s balls. Please get this dumb fuck away from me before I lose anymore brain cells speaking to him.

“Excuse me.” A voice interrupted my train of thought, causing me to look over—er, I think his name was Michael, or something of the sort—Michael’s (even though it may not be his name) shoulder. “May I cut in?”

“Austin?” I sputtered.

He flashed a smile before turning to my current dance partner.

Michael nodded and stepped aside curtly.

At least he knew when to back down.

Austin took Michael’s place with a nice, sweet smile on his face. He was dressed in smart dress robes with shiny black trainers that could almost blind someone.

“What are you doing here?” I questioned. Once I noticed the immense amount of excitement apparent in my voice, I tried my best to suppress my excitement upon getting rid of that horrid, horrid boy. “I didn’t see you board the train this morning.”

“I flooed back home last night after the party.” He answered. “One of Victoire’s old friends needed a last minute date, and... well, here I am!”

“So I reckon you’re the date of one of the brides mates?”

He nodded. “She found a nice bloke, so she let me go to mingle for the rest of the night.” Austin shrugged. “I owed her a favor anyway.”

“You’re a back up plan, yet you’re okay with it.” I stated. “I see.”

He chuckles. “So where’s Potter? This is his cousin’s wedding, is it not? Why is it that you’re on the dance floor dancing with some idiot, Bulgarian rather than your boyfriend?”

“He’s not done with his food yet.” I answered quickly. “C’mon, you’re a teenage boy. You know how they are. They could eat an entire cow and still remain unsatisfied.”

“Not all boys.” He corrected. “Well... they did just spend an hour sitting through a horribly boring ceremony. Regardless, he shouldn’t leave his girlfriend alone to fiend for herself at his cousins wedding.”

I shrugged. “I’m well acquainted with the Weasleys and the Potters. I practically grew up with them.”

He nodded. “Right, I forgot that Dominique Weasley is one of your partners in crime.”

I laughed. “Why is it that you sound much too bitter when it comes to Po—James and his family?”

“Why is it that your boyfriend’s last name is always at the tip of your tongue?” he shot back in a clever manner as he raised his eyebrows. “I’m certain that his last name is not a term of endearment.”

“What can I say?” I began, trying to keep my cool. “Old habits die hard.”

“So are you enjoying yourself?” he asked politely.

I shrugged. “It’s like every other Weasley gathering, except with a few more Veela’s hanging about here and there.”

“Ah, the veela’s surely are a nice… treat.” Austin commented with a grin on his face. “I must admit, knowing that small little fact was a big influence on my decision to attend this wedding.”

I giggled unexpectedly. “So I see you’re into Veela’s. Not that I can blame you, they are rather gorgeous. Even I can’t deny.”

“I’m more into you, actually.”

And so the awkwardness ensued.

On my part, of course.

James Potter

What the fuck?

Was Victoria not just dancing with some Bulgarian idiot?

Where did he go?

Why is she dancing with Austin Willow now?

This bloke could actually make her laugh.

Dominique elbowed me from my left side. I turned to look at her and she motioned towards Victoria and Austin who were both dancing swiftly across the dance floor. “You know you want to, and there’s nothing you do better than spoil things for her.”

She was right. It’s what I was good at; ruining things. And I was about to ruin Victoria’s little dance with Austin who’s wanted nothing more than to get into her pants since our third year. Or so I’ve heard from a little birdie.

I stood up abruptly, knowing that if I didn’t act quick, I would end up having second thoughts, which could lead to... things to happen between Victoria and this imbecile. Throwing my white napkin on top of my empty plate, I quickly strode across the dance floor and towards Victoria. The closer I got to her, the clearer her smile became and the higher my temper rose. Her dance partner seemed to be making all the—I hate to say this—right moves, and I don’t mean dance moves.

The moment I reached them, I seemed to be seconds away from decking the bloody moron in the face. I cleared my throat loudly to interrupt their little, fucking dance, but kept my eyes glued on Victoria.

“Excuse me.” I said (more like spat), to Austin while my eyes stayed glued on Victoria, who naturally, returned my gaze “If you don’t mind, I’d like to dance with my date now.”

Yeah that’s right. Pretend to be surprised that Victoria had a date. She is my girlfriend after all. As far as you’re concerned. What kind of girl like her would show up at a wedding alone? Horny teenage boys in Hogwarts are fucking lined up to date this girl. She just had absolutely no idea because Desmond refused to allow the rest of the male population in Hogwarts come near her.

“Sorry, Potter. You just seemed way too immersed with your food there, so I thought I’d entertain little Vicky here for a while.” He glanced at Victoria and smiled.

My fist tightened and I had to restrain myself from taking a swing at him.

“Surely that isn’t a problem.” He added. I knew he was patronizing me. He was patronizing me in the way only men can patronize each other without women (dumb women) noticing.

“Thanks for keeping her company, Willow. But I can take it from here.” I answered in a very cold, manly tone while keeping my eyes glued on Victoria’s. I felt like a dog—the fucking alpha male—who was enforcing his claim on his territory. Yes, she’s my territory. I needed the last word. Willow needed to walk away feeling embarrassed and sheepish, with his tail tucked in between his legs.

Willow left, but not without sending Victoria one last smile. It was as if they had some secret, unspoken language that only the two of them knew. I took his previous position, but of course, in a more gentleman-like manner, like my mother taught me.

I was angry—no, I was fucking furious. But for the sake of the night, I chose to try my best to tame the beast that was bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I knew that if I act on my anger, Victoria would become angry as well.

“Thank you.” She breathed.

I gave her a strange look. “Thank you for what?”

“For being civil for once,” She said in a soft voice. “And for controlling your relentless anger.”

“I didn’t think you would like it if I was anything but civil.” And with those words, a smile formed on Victoria’s face. It was a genuine smile. It was different from the smiles she gave to Austin or to Desmond.

I grew silent for several moments, deep in thought while I absentmindedly guided Victoria across the dance floor. Since when did I care about what Victoria wanted? Since when did I feel the need to please her, instead of doing the exact opposite of whatever she wanted? I restrained myself from beating Austin into a bloody pulp because Victoria wouldn’t have liked it. What the fuck? Since when was I that type of person?

After a few more moments of silence, Victoria broke through my thoughts, causing me to forget all about the… changes that has been going on lately. “I thought James Potter didn’t dance.” She teased as I twirled her around before pulling her closer. “I recall several Hogwarts dances where you would sit on the sidelines watching people dance. Unless of course, one of your play things dragged you on the dance floor. But it’s not like you ever really danced, it was more like half hearted—no, more like half-assed dancing.”

I twirled her around again, hoping that the mixture of my charm and dancing would distract her from her question. However, once she was back in my arms, the expression on her face told me that my charm failed, and so did my dancing. “I don’t dance.” I answered. “I never said that I was incapable of dancing. I just said that I don’t dance.”

“And why not?” her voice and eyes were sparkling with curiosity. “You’re not bad,” she grinned cheekily. “You know, for someone who doesn’t really dance often.”

“My mother taught me how to dance.” I admitted. “She thought that it would be a nice thing to learn. Our family attends plenty of formal gatherings and of course, as the great Harry Potter’s son, I need to look and act my best.”

Victoria sighed heavily and released my hand, only to wrap both of hers around my neck. She cocked her head to the side and bore her eyes into mine. “You know, Potter.” She began quietly. Her voice was soft; calming almost. “Your father neither defines you nor do you define your father. I know you may know this, but take it from someone you know. He does not define you. You’re James Potter, the most idiot boy I know. You’re not Harry Potter’s son, James Potter.”

Her arms unraveled themselves from my neck as she offered me a small smile. Without another word, she walked away. Her hips swaying to and fro as her heels clicked against the hardwood floor, leaving me standing there wondering how she—the girl who I thought knew absolutely nothing about me—could have possibly seen right into my soul.

She left me alone, standing on the dance floor as couples danced and twirled in circles around me. She left me. Alone and fucking speechless.

A/N: hi guys! i know it's been a while since i've update, i apologize! summer vacation has finally started, which gives me more time to write. woohooo! so i'll try to update asap yes? yes. the next chapter will be the second part of the wedding. yes there's a second part! they'll be staying at a hotel/resort kind of thing for the next day or so and well.. shizz gonna be going down. hehe. it should be fun!

just a note, several parts in this chapter was cut due to it's length. i chose to mainly focus on the kids since i didn't want to split up this chapter into two.

just to announce! i've got a new dramoine story up, for those of you who like dramoine's, go check it out ^_^ it's called boulevard of broken dreams. it's something different that the things i've been writing, so i thought it'd be fun!

shoelaces has also been update, the second chapter is up. it's an Lucy/oc, with Lucy Weasley and Christopher Wood!

Kismet should take a couple more days to update. check that out as well if you're into james/oc ship. it's a love triangle type of thing!

please leave reviews!
love, gryffgirl

Chapter 12: Pool Parties and Tousled Beds
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Twelve

James Potter

The night ended with a long, nonstop complaint from Dominique about how utterly disappointing the reception was. It was boring, and square. The music was slow and sluggish, and the dance floor practically stayed seventy percent clear the entire night. Although I found myself somewhat entertained for most of the night, I couldn’t help but side with my cousin on this one. We were all expecting a Victoire/Teddy type party. Hell, we would have settled with a Weasley party. Unfortunately, instead of a night filled with fun and drinks, we were faced with the Delacour’s and a bunch of snotty French A-holes.

We blame Uncle Bill. It was totally his fault.

He surrendered to the wrath of his wife and agreed to invite the majority of her family. Silly man wasn’t man enough to say no. But then again, Aunt Fleur is part Veela. If I were him, I’d have trouble saying no to the woman as well.

“It’s only nine and everyone is going home…” Dominique grumbled as we stepped into the lift. She pulled the pin from her up-do and let her blonde curls fall down her shoulders. She had shiny hair. “What kind of bloody—I can’t even…”

I chuckled and patted Dom’s shoulder. “Lighten up, Dom.”

“Piss off, James.” She grumbled again.

From beside me, Victoria sighed and patted Dom’s shoulder as well. “It’s okay, Dom. At least this gives us a chance to get out of these uncomfortable heels earlier than planned.”

Her voice warmed my body.

Did I really just say that?

I feel like someone just swept in and preformed a lobotomy on me.

“Let’s just spend the rest of our night at the pool.” Layla suggested. “I’m sure that the adults are too tired to do anything but sleep, which leaves the roof to us.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Desmond encouraged.

A ding sounded and the doors of the lift opened. ‘Floor Forty-Two’ It said.

We all filed out of the lift and headed down the carpeted hall towards our rooms. “Let’s gather everyone up and have a little party of our own upstairs!” he suggested with excitement as he grinned from ear to ear.

“And I shall provide beverages.” Tyler piped. “So you girls change into what ever skimpy shit you packed, and we’ll meet you three on the roof? We’ll round up everyone else.”

The three girls agreed with a nod and quickly entered their room.

“How exactly are you going to get drinks, Tyler?” I asked as I unlocked our own room.

“No idea.” He answered immediately with a shrug.

I rolled my eyes as I opened the double doors of my bedroom. I walked to my trunk and pulled out a pair of swimming trunks that I had thrown in last minute. I quickly pulled off my clothes and slipped the trunks on before I grabbed a nearby towel. Viola. James Potter had just transformed from perfect gentleman, into perfect, sexy beast.

“James, you ready?” I heard Desmond’s voice through the door.

“Yup, just give me a second!” I rushed to the mirror situated beside the bathroom door and checked myself out.

Oh yeah. I was definitely sexy.

Before I reached the door, something red caught my eye. Something that did not belong in my room.

It was a giant red cooler placed on the round wooden table by the window. There was a note on top.

“Hey James,” Tyler began as he suddenly entered my room. “Is it just me or is Rhiannon McKenzie looking mighty fine to you these days?”

I ignored him.

Hey mate,
Thanks for standing up there with me.
Merlin knows that it must have been boring as hell for you. Sorry for the lame party. Even Victoire is embarrassed by the lameness. At least the food was good, yeah? We blame Aunt Fleur and her guests. To make it up to you, here’s a little gift for you and your friends. It refills instantly, but there’s only one kind in there. It’s a Weasley’s product, but Uncle George doesn’t keep it in stock in the shop. It’s strong, I’m warning you now. I’ve given most of the adults free passes to the spa, so you kids have the roof to yourselves! Don’t be too loud or else the hotel management will be forced to check in on you.

P.S. Don’t let Hugo have anything to drink. Hermione has a knack of performing drug/alcohol tests on him these days. Make sure Rose doesn’t get much to drink either.
P.P.S. If caught, don’t let them know who provided.

Teddy Lupin

“I love your cousin, mate.” Tyler said in awe as he peered over the large cooler.

“God-brother.” I corrected.

“Tyler and I will take this upstairs.” Desmond said as he grinned over the goods. “You round up everyone, yeah?”

I nodded.

The first door I came to was Roses’ and her friends. After a short knock on the door, it was Scorpius who showed up. It seemed as though he was halfway getting rid of his tux.

“Who’s in there?” I asked immediately.

“Er,” Scorpius began as he loosened his tie. “Al, Ginger, Rose, Aria, Hugo, Corbin, Lorcan, Lysander and Bea. Why?”

I was taken aback by all the people that had took refuge in Rose’s room. “Party up in the pool.” I told him quickly. “Get to the roof in less than ten minutes, yeah?”

Scorpius’ face broke out into a grin. “We’ll be right up.”

The next room I arrived to was Fred’s. I pounded on the door loudly as I grew more and more impatient. Why did I have to be the one to round everyone up?

Rhiannon opened the door. “Hey, James.” She greeted with a polite smile. “What’s up?”

“We’re having a party up on the roof. Tell Fred, will you? And who ever else is in there. Bring your bathing suits and trunks!”

As conservative and smart as Rhiannon McKenzie was, she was a big party animal. On several occasions, Fred found himself unable to get wasted because he had his girlfriend to take care of.

She smiled, as expected. “We’ll meet you up there.”

The next room was Roxy’s. “Hey Rox,” I greeted the moment she opened her door.

“What, James?” she asked with an annoyed tone. She was already dressed in her flannel pajama’s and her red hair was up in a messy bun. “I don’t have time for your shenanigans at the moment.”

I rolled my eyes. “Goodness, Rox. Don’t be such a buzz kill. There’s a party going on upstairs at the roof. Bring your swimsuits, yeah? And bring who ever else is in there.”

She simply stared at me with a bored expression.

“What, Rox?” I asked, exasperatedly.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, James, we’ll be up there soon.” She shut the door at my face, and I was left utterly confused.

Merlin, I have strange cousins.

Before I called for the lift, I made a pit-stop at the girls’ room. It’s been about fifteen minutes and they still were not out yet.


I was a little bit surprised to find the door of their room wide open. I heard music coming from the bedroom; loud, booming music. It sounded like a remix of the Wild Ogre’s and Witch Mania.

“Dom?” I called loudly as I stepped into the room. “Layla?”

I followed the light streaming in front the double doors that led to the only bedroom in their suite. However, the moment I caught sight of Victoria, clad in only her underwear, I immediately regretted my decision.

Her was facing the bed with her back to the door. She was flipping through a book as she twirled a strand of her hair in between her fingers. My eyes traveled downwards… way down. She was wearing a pair of crimson red laced knickers.

Crimson, red, laced.

It’s like she just knew my weakness.

My eyes seemed to be permanently glued to her bum. Her luscious, round, bum.

Unconsciously, I growled.

I had never been so sexually frustrated in my life, and it was all because of this one girl.

I need to get laid tonight. I need to find some Veela chick to screw. Maybe one of Victoire’s friends is available.

Before I could turn away and bolt towards the door, Victoria turned around with her eyes still glued to her book. I noticed the cover. She was reading Alice in Wonderland for about the tenth time in her lifetime. Unfortunately, the change of her surroundings were too drastic. She noticed me right away.

“Potter!” she exclaimed furiously. Her hands immediately reached out for the nearest piece of cloth she could find to cover herself. To her dismay, the small t-shirt she chose did not do a very good job. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Er—I, uh,”

Awesome. I was fucking stuttering now.

James Potter does not stutter.

“Get out!” she barked urgently.

“Sorry!” I bolted out of her room and into the lift before I punched the button that was labeled ‘R’. For the second time that night, I growled under my breath. It’s a strange sensation when reality turns out to be exactly like what you’ve always imagined.

By the time I arrived to the roof, Dominique and Layla—who were both already dressed in their colorful bikini’s—were already standing by Desmond and Tyler as they rummaged through Desmond’s CD collection. Only Albus and his crew were in the pool, whereas the rest of the Weasley clan were still in their suites.

“Why do you look so flustered?” Dominique asked the moment I reached them.

Did I look flustered?


Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I just saw Victoria naked in the most delicious pair of knickers.

“It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” Layla commented with a small laugh.

I let out a frustrated sigh after I noticed the knowing looks Desmond sent in my direction. Why does the Cupid have to know everything?

After a couple of minutes, it dawned on me. Victoria. I couldn’t even fucking screw any other girl because of Victoria.

My fists clenched at my sides.

As if he knew exactly how I felt, Desmond reached into the large, red cooler and pulled out a glass bottle with pink liquid inside. “This has got to be the strongest drink I’ve ever had.” He said.

I took the drink and popped the cap open with ease. I took a swig and recoiled slightly as my mouth met the unfamiliar taste of a hundred and ten percent alcohol. “No wonder they stopped selling this.”

“I found it!” Tyler exclaimed to no one in particular. He transfigured the CD into an old fashioned record disc and placed it on top of the record player provided by the resort. The White Banshee’s immediately filled the roof. Tyler laughed in triumph and suddenly pulled Layla aside to dance with her. Together, they laughed and danced like a bunch of goof balls.

At that very moment, the door of the roof opened, and Victoria stepped out. She was wearing nothing but a bikini in a deep shade of red. Her hair was straightened, probably by magic, and pulled into a ponytail on the top of her head.

“Vicky!” Dominique exclaimed happily. She set her drink down on the table and immediately grabbed Victoria to dance.

For a while, I watched her. Victoria, I meant. Not my cousin.

I watched as her body moved with the beat. It was nothing dirty—nothing that I would have preferred. It was a goofy kind of dancing. The kind of dancing where her face was distorted by a silly expression and her movements were too erratic for anyone else to follow. It was… cute, almost sweet. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched the two of them dance together.

“James,” Desmond captured my attention with his warning tone. “You better be careful with her.”

I sighed and looked away. The fact was painful enough. I didn’t need Desmond to constantly remind me of it. “I know,” I told him without even bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice. “I just wish I knew how to.”

Desmond chuckled. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

I turned to look at Desmond and punched his shoulder in a playful manner. “Stop talking in riddles, Cupid. You’re no crystal ball.”


It turns out that word about the party spread quicker than rumors did in Hogwarts; quicker than wild fire. Even Victoire’s boring guests showed up that night for a drink, a dance, and a dip in the much too crowded pool. Even kids that we didn’t know showed up, and eventually, Hugo was sent to man the entrance since he wasn’t allowed to drink.

Dominique and Tyler had left the party about an hour ago and retired in our suite. Apparently they were going to put on a muggle movie and spend the rest of their night sitting in front of the television, but I seriously doubted it. If sitting in front of the television is code word for snog fest, then sure, I concur.

The roof was crowded. Entirely too crowded. I was almost positive that the amount of people on the roof had surpassed the occupancy limit about an hour ago. There were girls in bikini's lined up on the edges of the pool, in the pool, on the chairs or dancing next to the pool. There were girls snogging as well. In the pool, on the sun chairs or in the shady corners of the roof. They were everywhere. I felt like I had just died and gone to heaven.

Apparently, every other male agreed as well. There was not a pair of eyes that were not focused on a girl.

I couldn't blame them.

This party was busting with Veelas.

So I found it incredibly strange when I realized that the girl I could not keep my eyes off of was just a regular witch. There were plenty of prettier and sexier girls around me. Hell, there was one standing not three yards away. She had her eyes on me all night.

She was a brunette with long curly hair. She was wearing a white bikini. Her body.. her body was bloody amazing. Her lips were painted dark red, and her eyes were coated with black garbage.

I never understood why girls wore layers and layers of make up.

In all honestly, yes, some girls really did need it. I can't begin to explain how many times I've woken up next to a girl who went to sleep looking like a goddess, and woke up only to look like a dirty old mountain troll. However, there were those girls that had natural beauty. As a bloke—as a straight bloke—it's disappointing to see a gorgeous girl cake her face with make-up.

She was still staring at me.

For a while, I stared back.

Her lips were curled in a small smile. She had a single dimple right above the right corner of her plump lips.

The girl was beautiful. She was gorgeous. She was sexy. She looked intelligent, funny, mature and sophisticated.

I looked away.

I found that my interest was suddenly not on pretty girls that I had never met.

My interest was directed towards the blonde who was laughing in front of me.

Bloody, fucking, Victoria.

I was surprised to find that Victoria willingly stayed by my side for the entire night. I wasn’t sure why, but she did. Sometime during the night, I found myself in the furthest end of the pool, not more than five feet away from Victoria. We didn’t speak much. I was a bit too frustrated with both her and myself to strike a civilized conversation. Perhaps she knew of the frustration that I was dealing with and she decided to let me deal with it in my own way instead of meddling, like how she always does.

She frolicked about with Layla while they tossed around an old, tattered, American football. It was difficult since both were incapable of moving quick while submerged in water. However, did well. For girls, at least.

Once I grew tired of simply watching the two girls toss the football back and forth, I made my way to Victoria’s side and grabbed it from her hand. “You’re throwing it wrong.” I informed her.

She laughed. I could tell she was tipsy. “Show me then, oh-so-great Quidditch Captain.”

I rolled my eyes as she mocked me, but nevertheless, I smiled at her. After I gently positioned the football in her hand, I placed mine over hers and guided it over her head. “You’re putting too much swing into your wrist rather than your arm.” I advised. “It’s kind of like throwing a Quaffle at a precise thirty degree angle while coming out of a spin.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught the brunette scowling. She turned her head away and she leaned back against the edge of the pool. I had seen that look on girls countless of times. Her thoughts were practically voiced. She was wondering why someone as sexy as me (not to sound conceited—oh who the fuck am I kidding, I'm a sexy beast), would find interest in someone like Victoria.

I loved proving girls wrong. It was pretty fucking typical of them to feel as though they can capture a blokes heart with one simple look. They were self-centered and egotistical in a way that matched most mens infamously large ego.

They just refused to admit it.

With some added strength on my part, she threw the football swiftly. It was a good throw. It went past Layla’s head and into Desmond’s waiting hands. He responded with two thumb’s up, and Victoria laughed merrily at her accomplishment.

“Since when did you know how to play American Football?” she asked curiously. Her hands began to fiddle with the straps of her bikini which was tied behind her neck. “Ugh, this thing is coming loose.” She complained with a scowl. “I told Layla not to buy from that ruddy store.” I watched closely as she turned around in the water and pressed her back against me. “Do you mind? I can’t really reach that well.”

My breath hitched in my throat as my hands began to move on its own accord and made their way up to her neck. I pulled on the strings, suddenly aware of how much power I had over her at that very moment. A little slip and her entire top could just fall.

But what good would that do me? It would only give every other male in this pool something to look at, and I definitely would not want that.

Although most male eyes were focused on hot veelas and snogging girls, there was still a chance that Victoria's breast would fall into their line of vision.

So I retied the strings of her bikini tightly. On several occasions, my hand brushed against her neck and her shoulders, which made me even more… frustrated.

Once I was done, she turned and smiled at me. “Thanks.” She said. “It was bothering me all night.”

For the remainder of the night, all I could do was stare at the back of her neck, and her shoulders, and her bare back. All that exposed skin… I just wanted to rub myself all over her and kiss every inch of her body. More than once I had to shake my head to rid my mind of the dirty thoughts that seemed to never leave. To my own dismay, the cause of said thoughts was standing right in front of me. There was no way I could have controlled it any longer.

I wanted her.

Fuck, I wanted her bad.

But at the same time, I wanted to punch myself for even thinking about wanting her. The mere thought of wanting Victoria made my stomach churn in ways that I had never experienced before. It was more bitter than sweet, but Merlin, she was sweet.

Soon, Desmond grew tired of throwing around a football and ushered Layla onto the sun chairs that were settled by the side of the pool. Victoria and I watched as they shared one and started talking.

She turned to me with a smile. “They’re talking again.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Alright, James. That was a terrible attempt at trying to sound enthusiastic. I was happy for Desmond. Honestly, I was. He deserves someone as great as Layla. They were bloody perfect for each other. I just had more pressing matters at hand.

Fortunately for me, Victoria wasn’t paying enough attention to notice the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. She was waving at someone behind me.

Three guesses who.

Austin fucking Willow.

Honestly, he was like a roach that just never died. He was appearing everywhere, all the fucking time.

I growled under my breath unconsciously. I placed my hand on Victoria’s waist and guided her to the edge of the pool, away from Austin. She frowned at this gesture. “Is there something wrong?” she asked in a confused manner.

Victoria grabbed the drink that she had left on the edge of the pool and took a long sip. “Ah, this is really good.” Just as she was about to take another drink, I pulled the bottle away from her and placed it far away. “Hey!” She cried resentfully. “I wasn’t done.” Her bottom lip curled into a pout.

A rather cute pout.

“You’ve had enough for tonight.” I told her. “That’s your third bottle.”

“And I’m still not drunk!” She said with a grin. “My tolerance is like, way high!” She suppressed a giggle.

Drunk Victoria was kind of cute.

Kind of.

“Hey Potter,” She began. “Why did you come into my room earlier?”

I swallowed. “Er, I was wondering why you girls were taking so long.”

Unexpectedly, she grinned. “Did you like my red knickers?” she asked suddenly. “I heard red—no sorry, crimson red is one of your favorite colors. Well… when it comes to knickers.”

I chuckled. “How could you possibly have heard that?”

She shrugged. “Girls talk in the lavatory.”

Of course girls talk. That's all girls ever did. Talk.

She reached for her drink once more, but I beat her to the punch. I stretched out to grasp the edge of the pool and my arms locked her in place. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.

She frowned at me. “I want a drink, Potter. I’m thirsty.”

“You’ve had enough.” I repeated sternly. “You’ll wake up with another hang over tomorrow if you drink any more.”

This time, Victoria pouted. It took every fiber in my being to stop myself from kissing her lips. “You’re such a party pooper. Party doo-doo-er.” She giggled at her own joke. “Aren’t I funny?” she asked with a laugh. “I think I’m hilarious.”

I laughed. “Yes, Victoria, you’re very funny.”

I suddenly felt someone shove against me. Consequently, I was pushed closer to Victoria. In an instant, my body was pressed tightly against hers and she became trapped between the wall of the pool and my body.

“Watch yourself!” I barked at the idiot who had just shoved me. He was a scrawny git that was playing with the abandoned football.

When I turned back to Victoria, her laughter had faded and her face suddenly turned serious. My scowl washed away from my face as I felt her move against me. “James.” She said, her eyes still attached to mine.

Woah, it wasn’t Potter anymore?”

“What?” I asked.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked softly, moving against me some more.

“It depends.” I answered. “What is it?”

“Can you kiss me, please?”

I chuckled. “Victoria, you’re drunk.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “I’m not drunk, Potter.”

“Yes, Vic, you’re dru—”

I wasn’t able to get the last word out once Victoria attacked me with her lips. Her arms rose from the water and grasped both sides of my face before she planted her lips on mine.

I remembered Desmond, and sober Victoria. She was drunk, and this was wrong. But how could I deny something so sweet?

So I kissed her back. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer to my body if it was even possible. She sighed into the kiss and wrapped her legs around my hips. It was almost effortless to hold her in the water.

Almost instantly, the rest of the world disappeared. There was no longer anyone in the pool but Victoria and myself. The music and the chatter faded and all I could hear were Victoria’s throaty moans and heavy breaths. We were the only two people in the world, and it felt bloody amazing.

She tasted like vodka mixed with strawberries and pineapple, which was weird since her drink was pure gin. Nevertheless, the flavor on her lips was intoxicating. I’ve tasted her several times, but not once did she taste like this before. I wanted to drink her in. I wanted more of her. I wanted to drown in the way she tasted and felt. She was like a drug, and I was addicted.

All too soon, Victoria pulled away. “I need to get out of the water.” Her chest heaved up and down as she took deep breaths.

I, myself found it difficult to breathe as well. “Sure.” I pulled myself out of the water before I reached my hand out for hers. I pulled her up and silently, we made our way to the lift. “Do you want to go back to your room?” I asked in a slightly dazed voice. She had just snogged the living fuck out of me, and all of a sudden, she’s acting as if it had never happened.

“Will you come with me?”

“… Sure.” Was all my brain was capable of generating.

The ride on the lift was slightly awkward. We were dripping wet while we stood in an air of awkward silence. She was fiddling with her hair while I wondered why my trunks did not have pockets for me to stick my hands in during awkward situations such as this. I suppose the designer of these trunks was lucky enough to have never been grazed by moments of awkwardness. My hands yearned to be plunged into something. Namely a deep pair of pockets that were attached to my own trousers.

Slowly and quietly, she led the both of us to her suite. I watched her. I felt incredibly awkward. Her movements were clumsy as she opened her door with a special key before she pulled me inside. The precise moment the door closed behind me, I was suddenly pressed up against it with a pair of lips covering my own.

As excitedly as she, I responded. I was excited to taste her once more; to feel her tongue wrestling against my own. My hands explored her body while I pulled her close. In a rapid motion, I flipped out positions and found out that I liked this certain arrangement better. Just like when we were in the water, she hooked both her legs around my hips and raised herself higher against the door. This gave me better access to her neck.

Victoria moaned and writhed against me during the time I sucked and nibbled at her skin. Her hands pulled and tugged at my hair tightly, but the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that I felt from having her pressed so tightly against me. After leaving one large hickey on her neck, she pulled my head up to meet her waiting lips. Her lips were so plump and delicious. Like a large juicy grape that was as sweet as a cherry.

I gladly complied.

Once my legs began to grow weak from standing against the door, I quickly carried Victoria into her bedroom and roughly placed her on the bed as best as I could without interrupting our kiss. We were both still wet, but neither of us cared. I crawled on top of her but she clearly didn’t like it. Without warning, she rolled over and pushed me against the mattress. Her legs swung over my body, which allowed her to straddle my hips. Without clear warning, she grinned down at me, and I knew what was about to come. She began to tease me.

My hands flew to her hips the moment I felt her apply a bit of pressure against me. I growled in a way that made me seem more like an animal, and she simply smirked deviously. Before I knew it, Victoria created a steady pace as she ground herself harder against me. My grip on her hips tightened and I groaned this time. Rather loudly, in fact. We were still fully clothed (as far as swimsuits go), which made this entire situation even more painful. She was teasing me, and she was enjoying it.

My hips rose to meet her gyrations. In the most sexiest manner possible, Victoria threw her head back in pleasure and let out a soft moan. I couldn’t help myself any longer. I sat up and began kissing down her neck, around her collarbone before nibbling at her earlobe. She moaned in my ear as I sucked the soft spot around the junction of her jaw and her ear. “James,” she breathed. Her body was arched against mine while my hands were permanently fixed around her arse. I groaned and thrust upwards once more. “James,” she breathed again as her eyes fluttered shut and her brows knitted together. She looked so delectable, so fuck-able. Like a bloody sex-kitten. It was driving me mad. Without warning, I grabbed the back of her head and pressed her lips against mine. I kissed her hard and rough, and she responded eagerly and passionately. “Fuck,” she cursed.

Victoria pushed me back against the bed to my previous position. The smirk appeared on her lips once more as she bent down to kiss me again. This time, the kiss didn’t last very long. Her lips left mine and slowly trailed down my cheek, my chin, my neck, my collarbone, down my chest and back up. All the while, my hands ran up and down her sides, pausing shortly around her breasts. I sucked on her bottom lip hungrily, and Victoria showed her delight by eliciting a moan of pleasure followed by a quickening in her pace. Her tongue traced my top lip before she dove in and began exploring the contours of my mouth.

With a groan, I flipped her over to stop her ministrations. I practically groaned as I caught sight of the intensity of Victoria’s hungry and lustful expression. She was biting her already swollen lip, and her hands were by her head as if she was just waiting to be taken.

“You’re driving me mad, Vic.” I told her, my voice hoarse and my breaths heavy.

Instantaneously, her expression changed. Her brows knitted into a frown and she sighed helplessly. “Do you remember what you said to me last night?” she asked softly. Her voice was soft, yet coarse. It sounded like sex.

Merlin, I wanted her.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more in my life.

“What did I say last night?” I asked abruptly.

So something did happen last night.

With a heavy sigh, Victoria pushed me off and sat up. “You came to me last night.” She informed me. She turned her head away, and my heart suddenly sank without reason. “You were drunk, and you found me in Desmond’s bed.”

I sat up as well. “What did I say, Vicky?”

“It’s not important.” She replied. “Last night’s not important.”

I sensed her uneasiness. I wished we were still snogging. Things were much easier then. It was familiar ground. “Hey,” I began softly as I placed a hand on her arm. I turned her around and forced her to face me. For the first time since I’ve known her, I saw hints of genuine pain flash across her face. It was different from the sadness that would occasionally fight against her pretty face. It was something real, and I could tell that something inside of her was eating her away inside out. However, in a second, it was gone. Of course. How could I possibly expect anything more from Victoria Rose, resident Ice Queen? “Vic, tell me what happened last night.” I said sternly.

She shook her head stubbornly and refused. “No. Just—Potter I think you should go back to your room. We shouldn’t have… snogged like that.”

“Wait, hang on. Did I do something?” I was confused. One minute we were snogging. It was amazing, as amazing as fireworks on the forth of fucking July in America (as I was told). The next thing I knew, she pushed me away. For a long while, I thought that she wanted it too. I believed that she wanted me just as bad as I wanted her. She sure as hell made it seem that way.

I don’t understand women. Why do they have to be so bloody vague?

Men: I want you, let’s fuck.

Women: I want you, but I don’t at the same time. It’s rather confusing and I can’t really understand it myself either. So I’m just going to say no, even though I know that I want to have sex with you and my body obviously does as well since I’m drip—

Enough with my sarcasm.

“No.” She shook her head again. “You didn’t do anything. I’m sorry Potter, but…” She took a deep breath and ran her hands across her face with annoyance. “I can’t be that kind of girl.”

Was she annoyed with me or with herself?

“What kind of girl?” I asked.

“The kind of girl that you fuck and then dump.” She answered flatly. “I’m not another fucking notch on your bedpost.” Before I could say anything, she held up her hand. “Don’t even lie to me, I know it’s there.”

I rolled my eyes.


No, I take it back. I don’t roll my eyes. Is it possible to roll my eyes in the other direction so that it cancels out the first set of rolling?

I had just made a bad move. “C’mon Vic, you know that’s just a joke between Desmond and I. He has a set of notches too!”

“I bet if we went further tonight, you would have went home and added one, no?”

I couldn’t disagree.

She nodded at my silence. “I’m not angry with you, Potter. I just need you to go.”

“Are you serious? Only moments ago you were grinding against me moaning my name! You can’t lie to me and say that you don’t want it too. ” I exclaimed. My voice rose with every word. I hope these walls were sound proof.

“I never said I didn’t want you, Potter. Are you bloody daft? I fucking love you.” She snapped irritably. “Do you think I just go around snogging other boys like that for the heck of it?” I supposed she noticed her temper flaring since she took a deep breath in order to calm herself down. “Potter, please. Just go. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

“Me leaving won’t solve anything.”

“Yes it will!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Don’t you get it? I love you, okay? It’s not my choice, but I love you and I can’t do anything to change that! Do you know how horrible it feels to love someone who only wants to fuck you?”

“W—what?” I sputtered incredulously. “You think I just want to fuck you?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You sure as hell make it seem that way! C’mon, Potter, let’s not kid ourselves here. Since when did you look for something more than sex from a girl who you’re not related to?”

I fell silent. To be honest, she was right about one thing. Every other girl I’ve been with was just a toy. We would spend a couple of nights together, and once she bean to believe that things were getting serious, I’d dump her. Serious was not my thing. Mindless sex was.

That was the problem with girls. They were too into sappy relationships.

“That’s what I thought.” Her voice returned to its normal volume. She turned away from me again as if she was afraid to show the least bit of emotion for once in her life. “It’s not easy loving someone, Potter. Especially you. I can now fully understand all those girls who spent nights crying over you.”

Guilt washed over me in seconds. How did she do that? How did she make me feel so guilty in less than five seconds flat? I saw what she was doing. She thought that she was one of them; one of those girls that I hooked up with and then left within days time. She was scared that she would be like them.

I suddenly found myself sharing the same fear.

“Those girls are different.” I said, attempting to reassure her. “They’re not like you.”

Victoria scoffed again. “You’re right. They’re not like me.” She agreed with a blunt, cynical tone. “You actually chose those girls. Me? You’re just stuck with me. I’m like a pimple on the face of your life that will just never go away.”


“I’m the girl who will end up in love with you forever, while you will just never feel the same way.” she continued angrily. “You never wanted me, Potter. I’m just a fucking burden to you. I suppose you probably feel tied to me because of Desmond. You can neither screw other girls nor can you hit on anything with a pair of long legs and nice big jugs.”

I was getting frustrated that she was giving me nothing to disagree with without being a liar. She was throwing my lifestyle into my face. The fucking, the playing, she was all throwing it back at me. “Is it my fault that you’re in love with me?” I retorted angrily. “I didn’t ask for this, Victoria, it just fucking happened. I’m dealing with it as best as I can. You think I don’t like being able to screw other girls without hurting you? Fuck, I’ve been deprived of a good shag for weeks now, all because of you. But I’m not the one fucking complaining, alright? We both have a Cupid for a best friend, and he happens to think that they’re something in between us. I guess that’s what we get.”

“It’s called sexual tension, Potter! Every fucking teenager in the world has it with someone else. It’s nothing new.” Her eyes narrowed in my direction before a scowl appeared on her face. “That doesn’t mean that we deserve this.”

Sexual tension. This must be the first time anyone has voiced the tension that had been growing between Victoria and I over the years. I didn't agree. There was never sexual tension between Victoria and I. Our friends simply fancied insinuating the idea of 'sexual tension' in several of our conversations. They were idiots, and idiots didn't know any better.

“No one deserves this.” I replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “But it happened, and we just have to fucking deal with it.”

Then, she glared at me. Her eyes were piercing through mine like a set of daggers. “You can only say that because the only thing that’s been taken away from you is your freedom. Or so you believe. You think you’ve got it bad because I’m apparently stopping you from sleeping with a your little slut for a girlfriend, Elkin. No one is stopping you, Potter, but I suppose the guilt finally got to you, huh?”

“I’m fucking doing this for you, Vic. You think I like it? You think I’m doing this for my fucking health? No, I’m doing this for you.” I reminded her. She was being unreasonable and ungrateful. “If I wanted to I could go fuck some girl right now, but I restrain myself, for you.

She let out a sarcastic laugh. “Let’s give James the git faced Potter a medal for being concerned for my feelings, shall we? It must be the first time ever!”

I scowled at her. “Don’t patronize me.” I snapped coldly. “Forgive me for respecting your feelings. Would you prefer if I didn’t care? I’m doing you a favor, you ungrateful girl.”

“What the bloody hell, Potter. You act like you’ve got the worst end of the fucking stick in this situation. How arrogant can you get? You think not being able to sleep with who ever you want is bad? You’re not the one who’s fucking in love with a bloody git! You trying being in love with someone like you and see if you fancy it! You’re a bloody arsehole half the time, and the other half, it’s almost impossible for you to actually think with your head instead of yo—”

“I’m sorry I can’t be like you, little Miss Ice Princess!” I shouted. “That’d actually require me turn into a bratty ice box with absolutely no personality! The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you. You’d do well to remember that little fact.”

Victoria’s face grew red with anger, and I felt my own bubbling in my stomach. Only Victoria and I could ever go from being on the brink of fucking to arguing like we wanted to kill each other.

“You’re a mother fucking sleaze ball, Potter!” she spat loudly. “Maybe I’d stop being a bitch to you if you actually learn how to be a human being for once. Not ever fucking girl in school fawns at the sight of you. Some of us, namely me, can’t stand the mere sight of you.”

“Oh I beg to differ.” I spat back.

“Arsehole.” She muttered furiously.

“Bitch.” I countered.

“Get the fuck out of my room!” She pointed at the door, but I was already halfway there before she managed to get the last word out. “Never fucking speak to me again!” she screeched through the already closing doors.

I shut the door to her suite behind me with a loud bang and entered my own room.

Victoria could fucking go to hell.

A/N: hey guys!

so here's the first chapter that's completely in James' point of view. thoughts comments? i hope you guys enjoyed this one! the next chapter, they'll still be in the resort, and the one after that, they're going back to school!

love, gryffgirl.

Chapter 13: Ice Cubes and Early Morning Rendezvous
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Thirteen

Victoria Rose

The wedding was over. We were all back in Hogwarts. It sucked. A lot. As much as I loved Hogwarts with every ounce that made up my heart, sometimes, I really hated attending classes. It was a nuisance, and I happen to like getting my beauty sleep.

I woke up that morning feeling like utter shit. I suppose waking up at six-thirty in the morning really got to me. Fortunately, Dominique allowed me to sleep for another hour before I had to get ready and get downstairs for breakfast. Once I got up to get ready, I didn’t feel like doing anything. Like I said, I felt like utter rubbish; like I belonged with all the left over food after dinner, or with the little bits of potion ingredients left after class. I pulled my hair into a braid and slipped into my uniform. I pulled on my thickest pair of stockings and my warm, sheepskin boots. It was bloody cold. I left my robes on my bed, and instead, pulled out a thick, wool sweater from my closet. I didn’t care if I was breaking the dress code. It was October, yet it felt like it was winter.

Layla, who snuck out the previous night with Desmond — I was actually rather happy when I found out — returned to our dorm soaking wet. Consequently, she came down with a cold. Since she refused to go to the Hospital Wing, she, being the lucky bitch that she is, gets to stay in her bed all day long.

My day turned out to be extremely long and sluggish. As expected, by the time second period rolled around, the Head Girl — that snobby Ravenclaw bitch — deducted thirty points from Gryffindor for breaking the dress code. She would have given me detention too, if it weren’t for Desmond sending a rabid second year — who happened to be in love with her since they met — after her. By my fourth class, I declared that I was about one more class away from skiving for the rest of the day and returning to my bed. The castle was murky and cold. It felt like the climate from the dungeons somehow escaped to the rest of the castle. The only thing is, it seemed like I was the only one who felt this coldness.

It was time for Potions. Merlin, I hated potions. Mostly because I had to spend that period with Potter. Partially because it was my least favorite subject.

“Hey Victoria!”

I turned around and saw Austin running towards me from the end of the corridor. I offered him a small smile when he finally reached me. “What’s with the outfit?” he asked, eyeing me up and down. “It’s not winter yet, unless time magically skipped a month or two.”

I shrugged. “It’s rather chilly, don’t you think?”

He shook his head. “Where are you off to?” he asked, fixing the strap of his backpack.

“Potions.” I answered. “I am…” I looked around and noticed that I was definitely not heading down the correct corridor. “Actually going the wrong way. Nice.” I finished sarcastically.

Austin chuckled as we turned and made our way back to the staircases. “You seem troubled.”

“Annoyed is what I am.” I said with a heavy sigh. “I’m just.. tired of lessons, that’s all.”

“Hey Victoria,” Dennis Collins, a seventh year Hufflepuff, winked as he passed.

I rolled my eyes. “Hey Dennis.” I replied with less enthusiasm than I had originally intended. He smirked, nevertheless, and continued walking down the corridor we came from.

“Git.” I heard Austin mutter under his breath.


He quickly shook his head. “Anyway, I’ve got to get to class. I’ll see you around, Vicky.” He said, smiling brightly.

“See you, Austin.” As I watched Austin walk down the corridor, my eyes caught sight of Potter walking towards me. His hands were tucked into his pockets — as always — and there was a cold, hard expression pressed into his handsome face. The closer Potter got, the faster my heart raced. It was ridiculous. How could he still make me feel like a race car being pushed to its limit?

It was the most sickening feeling in the world.

I cleared my throat as Potter passed me without a word. He continued walking down the corridor and towards the Potions classroom. Moments after I felt my mood dropping another hundred meters, I followed.

When I walked into the classroom, Potter was already seated, and he was not alone. A girl had claimed my seat beside Potter, and had proceeded to — at least that’s what it looked like from over here — flirt recklessly with the arsehole. I groaned inwardly. I didn’t want to deal with this shit.

With a helpless sigh, I stalked over and dropped my bag loudly on the table. “Excuse me, you’re in my seat.” I began coldly.

The girl, who turned out to be Dana Samson, turned around looking as furious as the fires of hell. It would make sense since she probably clawed her way out of there. “Sorry, I wasn’t aware there was assigned seating in this class.”

I glanced at Potter. He seemed completely uninterested in the little exchange going on in front of him. He suddenly became extremely immersed in his potions textbook. I bet the dimwit didn’t even know what the fuck he was reading.

“Yes but I’m sure you’re aware that we do have partners in this class, and your partner is all the way over there in the back.” I pointed to a small, lanky boy with glasses who was sitting alone in the back corner of the classroom. “Now move.”

“Why James chose you as a girlfriend is beyond me, you abominable skank.”

I almost laughed.


“You’re in no position to call me a skank. Now get the fuck out of my seat before this knife finds its way into your pretty little face.” I motioned to the knife sitting on the table before her.

With an angry huff, Dana stood up and stomped back to her partner like a child stomping back to her old, forgotten toy. As I took my seat, I noticed Potter staring at me with an amused expression on his face. I glared at him. “What are you looking at?”

“Don’t try to act so tough, Victoria.” He advised nonchalantly with more arrogance than I would have liked. He closed his textbook and moved his eyes towards the front of the room. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Don’t fuck with me today, Potter.” I growled as a warning. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Why do you look like you’re so ready for winter?” Potter asked suddenly, eying me up and down. “You look like an idiot wearing those boots when it’s fairly cool outside.”

I glared at him. “What do you care, Potter?” I spat, trying my best to act as cold as the weather. “It’s cold, that’s all.”

He frowned “It’s not cold at all.”

“I’m cold.”

I could tell Potter was getting angry because of my coldness. “Whatever you say,” he spat.

Ever since the incident after the pool party two nights ago, Potter and I have been on horrible terms. Not that we were ever on good terms. I guess we strayed away from a calm sort of normal. Neither of us were willing to apologize first nor make the first move to put the incident behind us. Potter was extremely stubborn, and so was I. This is the precise reason why it is impossible for two stubborn people, like Potter and I, to be together. (I’m not saying that I, myself, was not willing to be the first to apologize just because I was stubborn. I cannot deny that I am stubborn, but in this case, stubbornness was not the only factor that was holding me back from being the first to approach Potter with my pride laying flat on my palms and apology hanging from the tip of my tongue. It wasn’t my fault, so why should I be the one who accepts the blame? And this is where my stubbornness hops in and says ‘howdy mate’.

When it was time to begin our Potion, I felt the temperature drop a good ten degrees, while a thin sheet of sweat layered across the surface of my skin. As I pulled my sweater tighter against my body, I turned to Potter, half expecting him to be willing to get the ingredients, and half hoping that he would without having to ask.

“Well?” Potter asked pointedly.

Who the fuck was I kidding.

Potter was a lazy twat, and my patience was wearing thin.

“Do you mind going to get the ingredients?” I asked through gritted teeth. “That storage room always feels about twenty degrees colder than it is in here.”

Potter chuckled. “I’m sorry Vic, but I think you’ve confused me with someone who gives a damn.”

Fuck Potter. I glared at him with an immense amount of hatred, and I think if looks could actually kill, Potter would be on the floor, with an incredibly amount of bloody pooled around his body. “Asshole.” I muttered before I turned to make my way towards the storage room.

There were kids crowded around the entrance, each of them waiting for their turn to acquire the necessary ingredients for their potions. In less than ten seconds flat, my brain grew fuzzy and soon enough, all I could see were little orbs of different colors.

In a panicked manner, I began wondering what was happening. And then I fell. It was entirely too quick to comprehend, which would explain why I found myself on the ground before I could even blink.


I was surprised when I woke up in Desmonds’ bed. The moment I opened my eyes, I knew that I was definitely not in my dormitory. Us girls were messy, but not this messy. There were clothes, textbook and Quidditch gear littered all over the dormitory floor. I was in the sixth year boys’ dormitory. The scent coming off of the pillow indicated that I was sleeping in Desmonds’ bed. It smelled strongly of his cologne and shampoo.

I groaned and rolled over, pushing the thick duvet further down the bed. I sighed and stared at the canopy of his bed. “What happened?” I asked myself.

“You fainted.”

The voice startled me and pierced through my heart like someone had just pulled the trigger to the nonexistent gun pointing to my chest. I sat up quickly, but immediately regretted it. The world started spinning, and my legs decided to betray my pride and turn into jelly at that precise moment.

So I fell.

“That’s a really smart move.” Potter commented flatly from his bed. Without giving it a second thought, I could already tell that he was in a sarcastic mood today.

Yipee for me. I could throw a fucking party.

I moaned and brought my hand up to knead my temple. “What’s with this headache…” I mumbled to no on in particular.

“Shooting right out of bed in your condition is a very, very smart move.” His bloody voice was dripping with sarcasm. I wanted to knock his teeth right out of his mouth.

If only I could stand on my own two feet without falling…

“Shut up, Potter.” I grumbled. “You know in times like this, you’re supposed to be polite and help me up.” I barked angrily.

“Like I said before,” Potter began with a heavy sigh. He was on his bed, sitting against the headboard with one knee propped up and the other, bent against the mattress. As he spoke, he did not bother to look up from the textbook placed against his legs. “You’ve mistaken me from someone who cares.”

I couldn’t resist scowling as I pushed myself off the cluttered ground. “Who brought me up here then? I certainly did not walk up ten flights of stairs after fainting.”

“I did, of course.” He answered.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of Potter carrying me all the way from the dungeons, to the common room, up the stairs and into his dorm. However, once I realized how silly I was for getting so worked up over something so small and meaningless, I cleared my throat and composed myself. “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why did you bring me up here?” I retorted. Yes, tell me, I’m genuinely eager to know. Really, really eager…

“Would you have preferred if I had left you laying in the middle of the corridor like that?” he asked with his eyes glued to his textbook. How can Potter be so nonchalant about everything? It was a bloody mystery.

“If you didn’t care you would have.”

“You were blocking the corridor. It’s inconvenient for the rest of the school.”

I scoffed in disbelief. Inconvenient for the rest of the school my big hair baboon’s ar— “Whatever, Potter.” I spat coldly as I began to make my way towards the door. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Tyler and Dominique are in there.” He informed me. “If I were you I wouldn’t go back to your dorm.”

I clenched my teeth together in annoyance. Why did Dominique and Tyler chose today of all days to occupy our dormitory?

“They were going to stay here, but they thought that you would be uncomfortable if you woke up with them.” It was as though Potter had been listening in on my thoughts.

I reached for the door knob, determined to be anywhere but with Potter. I’d rather be anywhere, rather than be with the boy who makes my heart race ten times over. Blood hell it sounds so cheesy, but it’s true. “Then I’m going to the common room.” I told him quickly.

Potter scoffed. “The common room is packed. Fred and Roxy brought over a few boxes of products that they knicked from Uncle George’s stock, and they’re selling them downstairs.”

My teeth clenched tighter. “Then I’ll go to the Room of Requirements.” I only managed to take one step before Potter’s voice stopped me for the third time.

“Good luck walking all the way over there with a fever.” He said flatly.

I scowled again. The universe must really hate me. It’s unbelievable how unlucky I am. “Where is Desmond?” I asked.

“Doing Cupid things.” Potter answered. His tone was pissing me off. He sounded completely uninterested — not that I was expecting him to sound interested at all — as if he didn’t give a damn about the rest of the world.

“Where is Layla?”

He sighed exasperatedly and finally looked up from his textbook. “What the fuck do I look like to you, Victoria? Do I look like everyone’s keeper? How am I supposed to know where Layla is, I don’t bloody keep tabs on her every fucking hour.”

My eyes narrowed in his direction and my teeth was clenched so tightly, I was sure that my jaw was close to snapping. “It was a fucking question, Potter. I asked you nicely, you didn’t have to give me such a rude answer.”

He scoffed and turned back to his textbook. “Your questions are tiring, Victoria. Just lay down and get some rest. If you faint again, I’m not carrying your heavy arse back into a bed.”

“I never asked you to.” I snapped. “I’ll sleep somewhere else.”

Before Potter could say anymore, I quickly stepped out of their dorm and down the stairs. Unfortunately, I didn’t get very far before I heard the door open, followed by quiet footsteps coming after me. Potter reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me from going any further.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he questioned, his expression still cold and emotionless.

I laughed sourly and rolled my eyes. I immediately regretted it since rolling my eyes brought an instant pang of pain spreading through my forehead. “That’s like asking you why you have to be such git.” I pointed out.

Potter didn’t find this amusing like I had. His eyes merely darkened and his gaze grew more and more piercing. “I told Desmond I would look after you. If I let you go, he’s going to be angry.”

“Since when did you care whether or not you piss Desmond off? You do it on a daily basis.” I frowned. “Actually, you piss everybody off on a daily basis.”

I suppose Potter grew tired of my charade since he grasped my arm tightly and literally dragged me back into his dormitory. He roughly shoved me down on Desmond’s bed and carelessly threw the duvet over me.

“I’ll leave.” He said.

I watched closely as Potter pulled his tie from his neck before he threw it into his open trunk. He grabbed his textbook, a quick, and a scroll of parchment, and then he wordlessly made his way through the room and out of the door.

That was the last I saw of Potter that night.

When I next awoke, it was about three thirty in the morning. It was dark, and loud with the noise of snoring teenage boys filling the nights’ no longer empty silence. As I shifted on the bed, I noticed that Desmond was sleeping beside me. His arm was around my waist and his leg was hooked around mine. I scowled to myself as I tried to pry his arms away. He wouldn’t budge. I really had to pee and I was thirsty.

“Desmond.” I whispered as loud as a whisper could go. “Desmond!” I repeated. “Bloody hell, Desmond!”

“Mmm,” he groaned in his sleep, followed by a frown.

“Desmond!” I whispered again.

Desmond tightened his grip. “Mum, I don’t want the pie!” he mumbled almost incoherently. “I want strawberries with chips.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Desmond would be dreaming about food.

.. and his mum.

“Cake!” he exclaimed abruptly, causing my heart to jump slightly. “Bring cake, mum!” Sleeping Desmond frowned again. “Mum hurry up! Layla… Layla is coming, mum! Hurry up. Perfect… must be perfect… Cake!”

An uncontrollable giggle came out.

Desmond Pierce has got to be the cutest human being on the planet.

I giggled again.

“Layla likes chocolate cake!” He cried louder. Thankfully, he rolled over and brought his arm and his leg with him.

“Yes!” I squealed excitedly. Before Desmond could move again, I carefully threw my legs over the side of his bed and slowly walked towards the bathroom. The minute I stood on my feet, the world started spinning again. I realized that my headache did not completely go away yet. I groaned as I entered the bathroom and switched the light on.

My hair was a mess. It was sticking up in odd angles, and it just looked like a giant ball of blonde poof. I quickly did my business and then decided to sneak into the kitchens for a bite to eat. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and my stomach was complaining louder than Tyler on a hot summer day.

If I was going to sneak into the kitchens, I needed the map.

The infamous Marauders map would be… with Potter.

Of course it would be with Potter.

My luck was just that terrible.

Like I said, the universe must really hate me.

I tiptoed towards Potters’ bed and began rummaging through his trunk.

Hm… if I were Potter where would I keep my fathers’ precious, beloved map?

I sighed. His trunk was filled with some old Quidditch gear, a couple of unopened textbooks, and some used clothes. “Ugh,” I groaned and moved on to rummaging through his side table. Nothing.

I looked up helplessly and blew a stray piece of hair away from my face. My stomach complained loudly again, and I found myself pouting to no one in particular. I was starving, and with each passing moment that I spent on the smelly floor of the boys dormitory, I grew more and more dizzy. Potter moaned softly in his sleep, and I looked up, wondering if he had stirred. And then I saw it. The little piece of thick, crinkled parchment sticking out from under his pillow. My key to the gates of heaven.

The map.

And it was hiding under his pillow.

Only Potter would sleep with his bloody map.

Why did he have to make my life so difficult?

Why? Did he really hate me that much?

After I took a deep breath and held it, I slowly reached forward and grasped the map tightly between my fingers. Potter was sleeping on his side, facing me. His glasses and shirt were absent, and his hair was extra messy tonight. He looked so… attractive. Almost delectable.

Slowly and carefully, I began to pull the map from beneath his pillow. My lip found its way in between my teeth as my nervousness escalated. One wrong move and Potter could wake up. It took a while, but eventually, only a small portion of the map was sheathed beneath. I was so close. So close.

Instantaneously, Potters’ hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, causing me to gasp loudly. My eyes grew as wide as tennis balls and my breath got caught in my throat. I gulped loudly and prayed to god that he was still sleeping.

But who was I kidding.

Of course Potter wasn’t sleeping.

His eyes opened slowly, and I immediately found myself staring into his eyes.

At first, he didn’t speak. His eyes bore into mine with intensity, forcing me to look away immediately. He knew how uncomfortable I was with eye contact. Bloody git was trying to make me uncomfortable.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he finally spoke.

“I’m really hungry…” I confessed. “And thirsty.”

“So just because you’re hungry, you think that it’s okay to wake me up and take the map?” He asked.

I glanced down at my feet and realized that Potter’s hand was still wrapped around my wrist. I tried prying my arm away from him, but it was no use. His hold was too tight and Potter was simply stronger than I was. “You’re silly if you think that you can get out of this.”

“C’mon, Potter.” I whined. “I’m starving, I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.”

“That’s not my problem.” Potter said as he released my wrist and grabbed the map before I could give it a final tug. “Take Desmond with you, he knows the way.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need anyone to go with me, I just need the map.”

“Des can be your map.”

“He’s dreaming about Layla and his mum, I don’t really want to disrupt his nice little fantasy.”

Potter chuckled, surprisingly. “Has he been talking in his sleep again?” he asked.

I nodded.

He sighed and finally released his hold on my wrist. “Hand me that shirt, will you.” Potter said, pointing to a plain white t-shirt hanging over the edge of his open trunk.

I obediently handed Potter his t-shirt and waited quietly as he trudged out of bed and grabbed his glasses from the side table.

“Er, what are you doing?” I asked with confusion.

Potter slipped on his glasses and grabbed his map and wand from under his pillow.

“Why do you sleep with the map?” I asked curiously.

“Because Tyler always knicks it in my sleep. He sleepwalks sometimes.”

I watched as Potter made his way towards the door. “What are you doing?” I repeated.

“Didn’t you say you were hungry?” he asked, turning his head to face me.

“Uh… yes, but you don’t have to come with me. I just asked for the map.”

Potter scoffed. “You’re crazy if you think that I’m going to trust you with this map.”

I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked resentfully.

“It means that you’ve got to be the most clumsy person I know. Who knows what could happen to this map if I left it in your hands.”

“Wow you sure are paranoid..”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s a difference between being paranoid and being careful. My father will be pissed if I lose that map.”

“So you’re coming with me so that you can protect your map?”

He thought carefully to himself for a while, and then nodded. “Yup, basically.”

I sighed and shrugged. “Let’s go then.” I began searching for my boots, but then realized that it would be close to impossible trying to find something in that permanent mess. “Potter, where are my shoes?” I asked.

“Tyler is wearing them.” He answered almost immediately.

“I — wait, what?”

He chuckled. “Calm down, they’re right here.” He handed me my boots and we both left the dorm and out the common room.

“What was for dinner today?” I asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us. Since when were silences between Potter and I uncomfortable?

“Shepherds’ pie.” He answered after a short pause.

I grumbled without thought. “Yum, my favorite.” I said sarcastically.

Potter let out a sound that rested somewhere in between a scoff and a chuckle. “Right, you’re the one that doesn’t like Shepherds pie. You refused to eat it that one Christmas in my house.”

I nodded slowly, surprised that Potter had remembered such a distant memory. “I — It’s just that I have a bad history with Shepherds pie.” I admitted. “It was nothing personal.”

After that, Potter did not bother to respond. His eyes were glued forward, and his jaw was clenched tightly. Although I was pissed at Potter — trust me, I was — I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There have been countless of times when Potter had been furious enough to the point where he decided to simply ignore my existence. Despite the fact that he wasn’t ignoring my existence this time, this cold wall that had grown in between us felt worse.

“Look, Potter—” I was quickly hushed by Potters’ large hand suddenly clamping over my mouth. My eyes widen as I turned to stare at him, but I did not get a chance to catch his expression.

Before I knew it, Potter grabbed my hand and bolted down the corridor that we came from.

“Stop running so fast!” I cried as I tried my best to keep up with his long legs. “Potter, stop!” With each step, it felt as though I was about to collide with the ground in a matter of seconds. Although I had no idea what was going on, seeing the panic flash across Potters’ face caused my heart to race faster than ever. In one short moment, anxiousness crept upon me like a python on it’s bloody prey. “What’s? going on!” I demanded loudly.

“Stop asking questions, and just run!” he shouted without looking back.

“You rotten kids! Get back here!” The voice of Nargus Filch echoed down the corridor and filled my poor, poor ears. His voice was worse than scratchy; it sounded like a cat being tortured in a bath filled with ice cold water. Rumor has it that his much older brother, Argus Filch, was a much better caretaker, despite the rumors that he was into the old and cruel punishments that were served to students who misbehaved. Nargus Filch was — well, to sum it up he was down right ghastly, both in appearance and as a person. “Wait till I get my ruddy hands on you kids! I’ll be shoving puking pastilles down your throat until your insides are spilling out of your throat!”

Upon hearing the incredibly unusual, yet frightening threat, I threw Potter a worried glance, but was surprised to see that his eyes were scanning the surface of his map. “There’s a hidden passage way not far from here.” He told me as he continued running. “We should be able to hide there until Filch decides to give up!”

I tried voicing my response, but considering the fact that I was running like there was no fucking tomorrow, my heart was pounding entirely too fast to speak. One would think that a Quidditch player had better stamina than this.

Bloody hell, I felt like I was dangerously balancing on the thin line between life and death. I can almost see the light…

“P—Potter!” I wheezed. “We can cut him off and return to the common room if we take the first left!”

Potter, who had been running like it was as easy as singing his bloody ABC’s, glanced towards the corner I was referring to, before he turned back to me. “That’ll lead us back down! We’ll end up in the dungeons! Just keep running straight!”

I scowled. “For once in your life, Potter, would you please get a grip and listen to me? If we get caught, we’ll be forced to sit out the next Quidditch game! At least Filch won’t be able to enter our common room, not after the mishap last year.”

For a moment, Potter hesitated. With each step, we became close and closer to the first left; the left that would take us back to our safe and warm common room. In that moment, I honestly believed that Potter was going to continue running straight to the hidden passage way without even giving my suggestion a single thought.

But for some reason, that night, Potter was on a roll in terms of proving me wrong. Just when I thought we were about to miss the turn, Potter grabbed my hand and swerved so swiftly that I would have probably lost my footing and fell if it weren’t for his hand guiding me. He held my hand tightly in his as we continued to run (he ran, I … let’s just say I tried to run) as fast as our legs could take us.

Unexpectedly, I had the urge to smile. I knew that it was entirely inappropriate, considering that we were running for our spots on the next Quidditch game, but I couldn’t help but lift the corner of my lips just a tad bit. It was a strange thing to smile at; running from Nargus Filch, who was chasing us (rather impressively) down the corridor while he waved his bloody stick in our direction. Absentmindedly, I glanced at Potter, who surprisingly, took a short glance in my direction as well. At the same time… surprisingly. And surprisingly, the corner of his lips twitched a little, and that cute dimple of his made an appearance for the first time that night.

And then it all stops.

The corridor ends. The running ends. The holding hands end. The smiles end.

Our breaths are heavier and Nargus Filch’s yells are growing louder. His foot steps echo through my brain along with my wildly thumping heart.

“We… we… this is impossible… we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, or something…” I wheezed loudly, my eyes scanning the blank wall before me. “I know this corridor! I’ve walked it a thousand times, I know that this will bring us back to the common room!” I felt my pride diminishing before me when I came upon the realization that maybe, I was wrong. Maybe this wasn’t the corridor that I was thinking about, and maybe I had mistaken it for another. I felt helpless, and slightly ashamed as I stood beside Potter, who no longer looked anywhere near happy, trying to wrack my brain for a last minute plan. “Potter, I — I… bloody hell.”

Instantaneously, Potter grabbed my arm roughly and proceeded to shove me behind a suit of armor. “Shut up and don’t say a word. Stay there.” He ordered in a tone that forced me to stay and listen. I felt like his own personal dog.

“Well, I thought I saw correctly.” I peaked through the shoulder of the armor and witnessed Nargus approach Potter with a crude sense of arrogance flittering about in his little personal bubble. “James Potter, finally, I have caught you in the act.”

Potter cleared his throat and asked in a bored tone, “In the act of what, sir?”

I rolled my eyes at his politeness.

“In the act of…” Nargus trailed off, that dimwitted bugger. “In the act of misbehaving!”

“What exactly did I do, sir?” Potter pressed further.

Nargus glared at Potter. Ever since Potter turned twelve years old, Nargus Filch has been on his case. Not once has Nargus ever caught Potter red-handed, and I was almost positive that Potter was not going to let him do so tonight.


“You’re out after hours.” The old bat said, placing his hands on his hips like an old, sour lady. His crooked teeth pushed out against his dry, cracked lips as he spoke. “Students are not allowed out after curfew! You’ll be expelled this time for sure, Potter!” Nargus’ cackle echoed, much like they do in horror films. It almost gave me shivers. Almost.

“Sir, I hardly think that sleep walking around the castle after curfew will lead to expulsion.” Potter sounded like a bloody natural while trying to wiggle out of sticky situations.

“Yes well, we’ll have to see with the headmi— hang on, sleep walking?” he exclaimed with resentment. “You won’t be able to wiggle your way out of this one, Potter! I’ve got you now, boy! Sleepwalking my Aunt Maggot’s behind.”

Potter blinked. “I’m sorry that your Aunt was unfortunate enough to be named Maggot, but I assure you, sir, that I was, indeed, sleep walking. I do it often, you see. It tends to happen when I regretfully much on sweets before bed. I’m actually really fond of sweets, even though they’re bad for my figu—”

“Enough!” Nargus exclaimed suddenly. “Sleep walkers don’t run!” he spoke as if he had just solved Merlin’s theory on traveling between parallel universes.

Potter blinked a second time. “I wasn’t running, sir. I was walking.”

“Wasn’t runni — wasn’t? running!” he cried in response as he waved his disgustingly greasy hand in the air. “Don’t lie to me, boy! I just chased you down four different corridors! Don’t tell me that you wasn’t running!”

“I was clearly wal—”

Nargus scowled. “I don’t have time for this, Potter! You may not be getting expelled tonight, only because the Headmistress is getting tired of my sending children to her office to be expelled,” he quietly added the last part of his sentence with a sour expression on his face. “But!” he exclaimed in a louder, more prominent (for a person like him) voice. “You’re funny if you think that you’re going to get out of this easily! Turn out your pockets!”

Potter blinked a third time. “Sorry sir, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

Nargus scowled again and did a rather childish ‘humph’ on the spot. “I said, boy, turn out your pockets! Now!” he ordered, pushing his shoulders back. I suppose he wanted to feel more superior to Potter, even though Potter had a good two feet on the old man. Potter practically towered over him.

All of a sudden, Potter’s nonchalant façade diminished and a scowl crawled onto his face as he began to reach for the parchment that he had stuffed into his pocket.

The map.

Oh bloody hell, the map!

I began hyperventilating on the spot. The map, the map, the map!

Nargus began cackling wildly once more. He hand out his hand, and waited until Potter had placed the map (of course Filch didn’t know what it was) in his palm. He looked down at the folded parchment in his hand, and it was obvious through his expression that the map was not what he had been expecting. “What’s this rubbish?” he asked, surprised.

I think he was more confused, rather than surprised.

Dumb fu—

“It’s parchment, sir.” Potter answered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

He just willingly handed the map over to Filch…

He wouldn’t even lend it to a starving girl, yet he just willingly laid it into Filch’s open hand. What is this madness?

I found myself praying earnestly that Potter had a plan.

“What’s it for?” Filch demanded, still trying to act superior.

It was not working.

“It’s for writing, sir. You see, sometimes people wish to record things on parchment with a quill and some ink. It’s a mighty ingenious invention, you see.”

“Well then, Potter. I will confiscate your parchment, and give you a week’s worth of detention for being out after curfew.”

I watched helplessly from behind the suit of armor as Potters’ jaw locked tightly. I couldn’t just stand there, I had to do something. Potters’ map was being taken away by the nasty old man, and there I was, just hiding behind a bloody suit of armor.

Filch made a move to leave, and I immediately took this chance to step forward and out of the cramped hiding space. However, before I could completely remove myself, Nargus suddenly turned around with something to say.

Potter immediately side stepped in front of me in ordered to conceal me from view.

“Hang on,” Nargus said. “There were two of you.”

“Er, what are you on about now, sir?” Potter asked, scratching the back of his head.

I glared at it with distaste.

What the fuck did he think he was doing?

“Don’t try to ease your way out of this, you fool!” Nargus bellowed, causing his spit to fly every where. Luckily for Potter, his face stood a good two feet away from his. “There was some one else running with you! Who was it? Where did they go?”

“Sir, I think you’re seeing things. I was sleep walking. There was no one with me.” Potter answered calmly.

I couldn’t believe it. Potter was taking all the blame. He was bloody trying to play hero, and he was taking all the fucking blame. He was the only one who was going to get detention, and not to mention, he had just had his map confiscated.

There must be some ulterior motive to this nonsense.

I slapped Potter’s back as I tried to help him out. I wasn’t going to allow it. Not one bit of it. So for a while, I fought with Potters’ back side. He resisted well, and eventually, he grew tired of the slaps and pinches while Nargus stood before him, completely oblivious. Potter drew his arm forward and then back, his elbow colliding with the suit of armor first, and then my stomach.

“What was that?” Nargus asked suddenly.

“What was what?” Potter asked, playing innocent.

“Why did you just hit that?”

“Hit what?”

“Hit that!”

“I didn’t hit anything, sir. Perhaps the suit of armor just came alive… you know how Hogwarts has been these days. Professor McGonagall never could get some armor back to it’s original state after she brought it alive.”

Suddenly, Nargus’ expression turned from a mixture of arrogance and anger, to sullen and then, to downright frightened. His eyes roamed the corridor, landing on every suit of armor that was lined across the wall. Luckily for us, that night, we had chosen a corridor that was just busting with empty suits.

After I wiggled my foot behind the suit, it creaked loudly and fell forward a bit. Nargus squealed abruptly, turned and ran (more like skip/hop?) down the corridor without a single ounce of dignity in his persona.

Potter sighed and stepped away from me like I was infected with the plague. He waited until I completely stepped away from the armor and back on my feet. The entire time, he did not look at me. He didn’t even ask to see if I was alright, like he normally would. Or like he normally did..

Instead, Potter stuffed his hands into his pockets again, put one foot in front of the other, and stalked down the corridor in a brooding fashion.

I sighed heavily, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with foreign guilt. “Potter, I —” I began, but he was already turning the corner, obviously uninterested in whatever I had to say.

A/N: hi guys! so it's ... 6:25 AM. i had a long night, and i refused to sleep until this chapter was finished. honestly my eyes kinda hurt right now, so i think i missed a few italicized words here and there. (i manually do them since i paste a non-formatted .. thing. wow my brain is dead). i wrote the last half just now, so i'm sorry if it's a little strange.

i'm so sorry it took a long long long time to update. i originally was not planning to take this long for the next chapter to come out, but to be honest, i kept changing me mind. i must have written about three different versions of the chapter, but i was happy with none of them. i was sort of falling into a slump, so i (and i do this quite often) started to watch asian dramas. yes, i watch asian dramas. it's just to get the juices flowing and to give me inspiration and more ideas. and it worked! haha i've written the entire plot of this story before, but now that i changed this chapter, the next few changed as well.

so tell me what you guys think! this chapter is purely james/victoria, (even though the entire story has been purely them, but just saying ^_^) honestly i've been having trouble taking steps with this so that the two ease into their blooming relationship more smoothly than it's been turning out (in my point of view). Let me know how it turned out!

on another note, i recently received a review of a reader complaining about the amount of swearing in this fic. may i just remind all of you that i'm trying my best to portray this fic in a teenager's point of view. i know that not everyone is like this, and i certainly don't swear this much either, but it's a character thing.. am i explaining this right? lol there IS a language warning before you read this, and it is rated mature. i DO try not to get too explicit, so i'm sorry if it's a little too over the top for some of you. so .. yeah. :) just a note!


please leave a review :)
thank you
love, gryffgirl.

Chapter 14: Ninja Costumes and Slytherin Dates
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Fourteen

Victoria Rose

The next day, I woke up shittier than I felt the previous night. The guilt clawed at me as I silently ate my shepherds pie; as I silently walked beside a perpetually agitated Potter; as I watched hi disappear up a set of stairs without another word; as I walked up to mine in silence; as I climbed into bed, thinking about nothing else but James Potter and his stinking map. No matter how much I tried, I could not forget it. In my mind, it was my fault. My fault.

That morning, Potter walked by me without uttering a single word.

At least before when we were nothing more than enemies, he would offer some sort of rude gesture or a nasty greeting. I could always expect to see the infamous finger, or hear something along the lines of “Oh look! The troll is eating toast. I didn’t know trolls ate toast. I always expected something along the lines of mountain goats.”

This time, nothing.

He didn’t even look at me.. just.. nothing.

To be honest, it was killing me. Despite common beliefs, it hurts more than anything to have the person you love act as though you don’t even exist. I never believed it until I experienced it for myself. My heart felt as though it was about to spontaneously combust in my chest (and not in a good way).

“Hey, Vic.” I felt a pair of lips plant themselves on my cheek. It was my free period, and I decided to spend it lounging on the couch in the almost empty common room.

I looked up and found Desmond smiling down at me sweetly.

Despite how shitty I felt at that moment, I smiled back at the sweetest (I suppose he’s like that because he’s a bloody Cupid) boy I knew. Desmond Pierce. My best friend. “Hi,” I replied.

“Hello Vicster,” Tyler was the second to greet me. He jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down on the cushion beside me, followed by Desmond. “Why do you look so down?”

“Could it be because of a certain Potter?” Desmond added.

The wankers were mocking me.

I scowled at both of them and attempted to push Tyler’s arm, which was draped across my shoulders, away from me. “Are you guys seriously going to do this now?”

Desmond chuckled. “We’re only joking.”

I glared at him.

“Okay, okay we’re done.”

“Ha, ha, I’m no—ow!” Tyler was interrupted by a punch from Desmond. “Okay, we’re done.” He pouted in defeat.

“So what happened?” Desmond asked without even bothering to beat around the bush.

I looked away from him. “What do you mean what happened?”

“I mean, why does it seem like things have gotten worse between you and James?” He continued. “I know that you two are fighting, but I’m sensing that something else happened… and I woke up this morning and you were gone, and James was the first one in the shower. That almost never happens.”

I sighed heavily, allowing my walls to crumble around me. I dropped my head on Desmond’s shoulder and I felt Tyler’s arm instantly wrap itself tighter around my shoulders. “I told the entire school that you talk in your sleep.” I mumbled.

Tyler Instantly sniggered, and Desmond drew back. “What?!” he cried.

I tried my best to look as guilty as possible. “I told the entire school that you talk in your sleep, and you dream about your mum, and food, and a certain girl who happens to be in Gryffindor…”

Desmond’s eyes slowly widened until they were as big as tennis balls.

“TYLER! TYLER!” At the precise moment Layla’s voice entered our ears, the three of us immediately turned towards the entrance of the common room. She came in running, with her long brown hair flowing behind her and her face glowing with beauty.

For as long as I’ve known Layla, I’ve always been slightly jealous of her natural beauty. I was almost positive that, at one point or another, every male in Hogwarts wanted to get into her pants.

“Layla! Layla!” Tyler responded idiotically.

Layla rolled her eyes and stopped once she reached Tyler. “You still have my essay, right?” she asked with hopeful eyes.

Tyler stared at her. “What essay?”

Layla’s eyes went wide. “Please, please, please tell me that you still have my essay.”

“You never gave me your essay…” He replied.

“Are you kidding me? I gave it to you last week. It’s due tomorrow, Ty!”

Tyler sat there and thought for a moment before he lifted his head to look at Layla once more. “I’m being honest right now, you never gave me your essay.”

“It’s my transfiguration essay! It took me hours to write it!” she cried.

“Oh!” Tyler exclaimed suddenly, causing me to jump slightly. “That essay!”

Layla’s eyes suddenly turned hopeful. “You have it?” she asked, her tone turning excited.

The arm that was around my shoulders retracted as his hands flew to his hair. It seemed that Tyler had caught one of Potters’ habits. I wasn’t surprised. The three of them did live together. “Er, well… you see, Layla. This happen —”

“You bloody git!” Layla shouted as she began attacking Tyler with slaps.

“Ow! Hey! You know despite popular belief, some girls really know how to hit a bloke!” Tyler exclaimed as he attempted to cover himself from the blows he was receiving. “Ah! Merlin, since when were you this violent?”

“Since you lost my bloody essay!” she bent down to shout in his ear.

From beside me, Desmond started laughing, causing me to laugh. What can I say, his laughter was contagious. “Layla, relax. Your essay is upstairs. He just finished using it as ‘reference’ two days ago. He’s just messing with you.”

Tyler immediately flashed Layla a goofy grin before he jumped up from his seat, fearing for his skin. “I’m going to kill you, you git!” Layla cried as she began to run after Tyler. “Ugh!”

Fortunately for Tyler, Desmond caught Layla around the waist before she managed to get that far. “C’mon, let’s go get your essay before Tyler loses an eyeball.”

I laughed silently to myself as I watched as Layla struggled in a futile manner as Desmond dragged her up the stairs leading to the boys’ dormitories. Tyler sighed beside me, watching them as well. I knew that he was thinking the same thing I was. Those two belonged together.

“I don’t know why Desmond just does not make a move…” Tyler mused sadly.

“Sylvia is still in the picture, remember? Crazy bitch..” I trailed off.

“But anyway, Desmond is not the problem today. You and my very stubborn, problematic roommate, are.” He said. “What happened? James won’t say a word.”

I sighed heavily and fell silent for a while. “I expected Potter to tell you two what happened.” Tyler didn’t respond. Instead, he waited for an explanation. “Alright fine. Last night, we sort of ran into Filch, and well… his map was confiscated.”

His mouth fell open. “What?!”

I winced at the tone and volume of his voice, and my body sunk deeper into the cushions.

“You lost the map?!” he cried. “The map? THE map? The Marauders map? The map that James grandfather and his best mates created?”

I rolled my eyes, despite the position I was currently in. “Yes, Tyler, continue shouting to the entire common room the deepest secrets of the Potter/Weasley family.”

Tyler immediately fell silent. “It’s not like they don’t already have an idea about the map..” he added quietly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“They’re simply unproven rumors, Ty. Potter doesn’t want the entire bloody school to know that he has the Marauders map. Honestly, I think Lucy, Molly and Victoire don’t even know it truly exists.”

As a response, Tyler stared at me with a great amount of disappointment. “You lost the map.” He deduced. “Our blessed map.”

“I would hardly say that I ‘lost’ the map. It was confiscated…”

“You lost our map.”

“I didn’t lose it, Tyler.”

“You lost our map.”

“It was confiscated.”

“You lost our map.”


“Do you know how much trouble James, Albus, Lily, Desmond and I had to go through just to steal that from his father?” he asked. “We had to drag Rose and Dominique in, because it was just that difficult.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard the story countless of times. Mr. Potter needed about six different distractions before Albus and James could even get to his little ‘trophy’ (Mrs. Potter called it that) cabinet, and then they were almost caught before they could replace the real one with the duplicate and blah, blah, blah, blah..”

“And then you just go and bloody lose the map!”

“I didn’t lose it, you twat!”

“Do you know how difficult it will be to get around the castle now, without that map?”

“Tyler, you’ve been living in this castle for the past six years. I think by now you should be able to find your to the kitchens that you’ve been sneaking to at least twice a week.”

“Don’t patronize me, Vicky. You’re the one who lost the Marauders’ Map.”

“Merlin, I’m sorry!”

“I now understand why James is so upset.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do, steal it back?”

Instantaneously, Tyler turned to me and grinned. “I see why Desmond chose you as his best friend.”

I gave him an ‘are-you-bloody-serious’ look. “Are you serious? You want me to sneak into Argus’ office and steal the map back?”

“It’s perfect! Out of all the girls I know, you’re the most like us!”


“You’re most like a Marauder! Sort of… a little bit.”

I scoffed attractively. “That doesn’t mean that I have the ability to sneak into the caretaker’s office and steal back a map that is probably his current prized possession.”

Tyler knitted his brows together in confusion. “What makes you think that?”

“How long has Nargus been after Potter?” I asked exasperatedly. “Trust me, he’s probably pissing his pants out of sheer happiness after catching Potter out of bed last night.”

“What were you two even doing out of bed?”

I looked at him. “I got hungry.”

And the, Tyler grinned goofily. “Ah, I see. You got ‘hungry’.”

I glared at him.

Tyler wiggled his eyebrows in my direction, the goofy smirk never leaving his lips. “Hungry for some loving!” And that’s when he sprung from the couch and began running for his life.

Yeah, he knew what was coming for him.



Trust Layla to be the ice breaker when it comes to awkward situations.

And when I say awkward, I mean standing around the corner of Nargus’ office while holding a long, pirate looking sword. No, it’s not legit. It’s actually a children’s toy that Tyler knicked from a first year when he was in his fourth. He saw it, and cried ‘I NEED TO HAVE THAT SWORD OR I WILL DIE FROM DEPRIVATY OF COOL PLASTIC THINGS.’ Not to mention, Tyler and Layla were wearing silly looking ninja outfits, while I, being the most sane out of the two, simply marked my face with black shoe polish. I would have used Dominique’s eye make up to mark my face, but she went ballistic the moment she found out that her precious eye make up was going anywhere else but my eyelids. So I was left with ruddy old shoe polish.

It smelled of pine… and chemicals.

Not exactly a good combination, but it would have to do.

“So…” Layla repeated, and then cleared her throat. “Everyone knows what we have to do?”

“Tell me again why you guys felt the need to dress in Ninja suits?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. Layla and Tyler had the maturity of a four year old on crack.

“It’s cool.” Tyler said sternly. “This must be about the eleventh time you’ve asked that question in the last ten minutes.”

“I’m just… wondering.” But I was not heard, since both Tyler and Dominique craned their necks to steal a peak around the corner, making sure that the coast was clear.

The duo turned simultaneously. This slightly makes me worried that they’ve done this before… Possible more than once…

Layla’s expression turned rigid as she glanced between Desmond and I. “Alright, so Desmond and Dominique are creating a diversion in the southwest corner of the castle, which gives us plenty of time to search for the Map. If anything goes wrong, the signal is Bumbling Baboons. Albus, who by the way, Vicky, is extremely disappointed in you at the moment —”

“You told Albus?!” I cried with utter disbelief. My best friend. My own bloody best friend since I was eleven years old, ratted me out to the second oldest Potter. “How, wha — why?!”

Layla looked surprised by my reaction. “Calm down, Vic! You know Albus isn’t as hard-ass as James is when it comes to things like this. And plus, we needed him to help us in our operation. He almost said no, but when I mentioned that you were the one who lost the map, I suppose he felt a little bit bad for you, although I’m not entirely sure why.”

“Albus loves me, that’s why.”

Layla scoffed. “What’s with you and Potter men? They just can’t keep their hands off you, can they?”

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny. Let’s get on with this completely insane mission before I decide to crawl back into bed.”

If it wasn’t already clear, somewhere in the middle of the day, Tyler somehow managed to convince me to pull a mission impossible number two, and steal the map back from the psycho owl-loving caretaker. Once we introduced our underdeveloped plan to Layla, she was immediately all for it. Desmond, who happened to be following closely behind Layla –cough- he’s totally in love with her –cough- opposed strongly, up until — well would you look at that — Layla successfully convinced him otherwise. Dominique, who was, regretfully, playfully left out of the circle for about a good five minutes, threw a hideous sort of tantrum before being filled in shortly after. In about thirty minutes, each of us contributed into planning a fool proof plan (hopefully), and ridiculous looking costumes.

As if on cue, fireworks (Weasley products of course) went off in the other side of the castle and releasing an impressive echo that was loud enough to momentarily push me to the brink of deafness.

“Say, where’d you get the fireworks?” I asked Tyler curiously as another wave of echo rippled through the still air.

“Fredward of course.”

I gave him an ‘are-you-serious’ look. “Freddie knows?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t tell him. Luckily his girl… what’s her name? Rhiannon was it? Whatever her name is, luckily she was there to distract him from asking any questions. He practically handed the entire box to us without any compensation!” He explained excitedly with a grin on his face.

“I hear him unbolting the locks!” Layla exclaimed, pushing both Tyler and I further around the corner in order to conceal ourselves from the caretaker. “Bullocks, a door cannot have that many bolts.” She whispered, frowning, as the sound of chains clanking together rattled through the heavy wooden door.

The sound of the heavy door opening forced our breaths to stop short. Momentarily after, the sound of Nargus’ wheezy voice filled our ears as he began complaining about children. After the complaints came to a halt, he began voicing his threats rather explicitly. The thick-head strolled right past us, still murmuring threats beneath his breath, and disappeared behind another corner.

I waited for about ten seconds, just incase he decided that twenty-nine bolts on his office door was not enough, before I approached the small, but heavy oak door. I whipped my wand out and started with plan A.

“Alohomora.” Nothing.

Tyler soon joined me, leaving Layla by the corner incase Albus came running with an S.O.S signal. “Plan B.” He announced proudly, since plan B was his plan. He whipped out his wand and flicked his wrist in a swishing motion. Out of thin air, a large axe appeared in the palm of his hand. Tyler grinned deviously as my eyes widened.

I watched with disbelief and horror, and then I stopped him. “Are you inane?!” I shouted, jumping in front of the door. “How do you suppose we fix that door once Filch comes running back?”

“Er… make him a new door?”

“Making him a new door out of a ruddy blanket won’t do, Tyler.”

He glared at me. “I wasn’t going to make one out of a blanket. We could just conjure up a new door.”

“How about the bolts? If you haven’t noticed, they can’t be unlocked with magic.”

“The bleeding bastard won’t even notice the difference!” he exclaimed. “C’mon, Vic, it’s the Map! I thought you were willing to try anything to steal it back.”

I sighed, suddenly feeling the momentarily forgotten guilt find its way back into my chest. Remembering Potters’ solemn and cold expression that night gave me no choice but to step back and let Tyler castrate the door with the large axe.

He took a nice, good swing that has developed through years of intense Quidditch training. “What?!” He exclaimed with disbelief. “That’s impossible!”

“What’s going on?” Layla shouted from down the corridor. “Tyler, why are you shouting?”

“This is impossible!” I shouted back. “The door won’t budge!”

“Did he try the axe?” Layla questioned.

“It doesn’t work!”

“What?!” She exclaimed in a high pitched voice.

Tyler, who was still staring at the wooden door with disbelief printed all over his face, looked as though he was about to murder someone. As a beater, I’m almost positive that he took great pride his swings. A bludger can’t get past him, so why should this measly door be any different? “That’s impossible!” Before I knew it, he began mercilessly hacking at the door with every ounce of strength left in his body.

“Tyler, stop it’s pointless.” I told him.

He refused to listen. He relentlessly continued, swing after swing the blade collided with the wood but refused to pierce through. It was as if there was an invisible barrier that prevented anything from touching the door. The sound of the collision accompanied the echo’s coming from the also relentless fireworks display that has obviously not been controlled yet.

“What the hell are you doing?” Finally, the hacking stopped. Both our attention was diverted towards a tall boy who was walking towards us with his hands shoved into his pockets. Unlike Tyler and I, who were still dressed in our Hogwarts uniforms (minus the robes), he wore a grey jumper, dark jeans and black trainers. “Gryffindors,” he scowled the moment he noticed our crest printed on our school shirts. “No wonder you two have created such a ruckus.”

Tyler scowled back and advanced towards the Slytherin with his hand wrapped tightly around the handle of the axe. “Keep moving.” He ordered.

The Slytherin smirked. “You Gryffindors are relentless. Once you believe that you’ve figured out the answer, you won’t stop until it fits, even if you were wrong.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Greyson. Now keep moving.” Tyler growled. In situations like these, Potter and him looked very similar.

… How could I possibly be thinking about Potter at a time like this.

Completely ignoring Tyler, the Slytherin looked around him and met my gaze. “I see you’re trying to get into Nargus’ office.” He began. “If you don’t mind me asking, why?”

Tyler stepped in front of me, blocking my view of Greyson. I believe his first name was James as well. “Mind your business, you filth and get the fuck out of here.”

“You might want to put a leash on your dog here.” Greyson said in reference to Tyler. “Or else he might actually learn that he’s not the alpha in this castle.” He glanced at the door leading into Filch’s office, and then to the wand in my hand. “You actually need a key to open that.” He pointed to the bolts implanted into the wood. “No magic will penetrate through the door, and no,” he glanced down at the axe in Tyler’s’ hand. “Weapons as well. You may want to rethink your plan before you set fireworks off in the other side of the castle.”

Greyson moved to walk around Tyler, but I stopped him. He looked surprised, but nonetheless, he kept himself perfectly composed. It was such a Slytherin thing to do.

“Hang on.” I said, holding up my hand in order to stop him.

“Victoria, what are you do —” I raised my other hand to silence Tyler, and to keep him standing a good five feet from Greyson and I.

I turned back to Greyson. I wanted this exchange to be short, and I wanted it quick. “Do you know how to get in there?”

“Now what gives you that idea?” he inquired curiously.

I folded my arms across my chest. His eyes followed.

“It sounds like you’ve tried and… perhaps you’ve succeeded.” I said. “There have been rumors, but none that have been proven true. Everyone knows that it’s simply impossible to get in there.”

“Are you challenging me, Miss Rose?” Greyson questioned with a smirk. “Perhaps you’ve confused yourself. I’m not a Gryffindor. Those antics do not work with me, unfortunately for you.”

I scowled.

Greyson gave me a look. “If it’s deemed impossible, why are you, yourself, trying to get in?”

“I—I lost something.”

“I’m guessing that this something of yours is irreplaceable.”

“You could call it that.”

“And what do I get if I help you?” I knew this was coming. He was a Slytherin after all. “You know as well as I do that I do not give without compensation.”

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. “How am I even sure that you’ve got what I need? For all I know, you could be making a fool of me.”

Greyson shrugged. “You can never know what my true intentions are. It’s up to you, Rose. Do you want the Potters’ precious map back, or not?”

I stared at him with disbelief.

“What map?” Tyler asked indignantly, stepping in for the second time.

“You must be incredibly daft if you don’t already know that at least half the castle already knows about the Marauders Map being in James Potters’ possession.” He retorted coolly, as opposed to Tyler’s aggressive and territorial manner.

Tyler glared at Greyson. “It’s a snitch. It belonged to James and Victoria got it confiscated during class.”

“Ah, the other ‘infamous’ snitch. The snitch that the famous Harry Potter gave to his first born son on his eleventh birthday.” Greyson deduced. “I suppose Potter would really want that snitch back, now wouldn’t he?”

Tyler growled again. “Do you know how to get in or not?” he asked impatiently, his voice escalating in volume.

Greyson turned back to me with a sly smile. “I have a price.” He said.

“Name it.” I replied immediately.

“A date.”

“No!” Tyler exclaimed instantaneously, before I even managed to comprehend the atrocity that was coming out of Grayson’s mouth.

“… I suppose you mean the fruit, date…” I said softly.

Greyson chuckled with his deep voice, and turned his gaze to his shuffling feet. “Gryffindor humor,” he commented wistfully. “The one thing us Slytherin’s always appreciated.”

“She’s not going on a date with you.”

I stared at Greyson who looked as though he was completely unfazed. “N—no, what? A date?” I finally came back to my senses. “A fucking date?! No!”

Greyson shrugged. “Your loss. You know, I hear that not even the infamous James Potter managed to get past that door. See you around, Rose.”


“So what are we going to do?” Tyler asked lazily.

The six of us — Desmond, Layla, Dominique, Tyler, Albus and I — were slumped against the couches, feeling as helpless as ever. After the fireworks were contained, Albus came running like a speeding bullet, shouting ‘ABORT, ABORT! N-DAWG ALERT. ABORT!’ Tyler, Layla and I scattered like roaches. I ran somewhere near the Hufflepuff common rooms, Tyler escaped in the dungeons and Layla ran back to the safe territory of the Gryffindor Common Room. Albus, who was the only one who came close to being caught, jumped behind a tapestry and managed to lose Nargus upon entering a newly discovered secret passage way.

“I don’t know.” I answered helplessly.


“So,” Tyler began again. “The map is gone.”

“Yes, Ty, the map is gone.” Dominique replied.

“What are we going to do?” he asked again as he played with some loose thread from the seams of a pillow.

“Nothing can get through that door.” Albus said as he stared blankly at the coffee table situated in front of the armchair he had chosen to sit on.


“Guys,” Tyler began. “What are we going to do without the map?”

“I don’t know.” Desmond answered with a similar expression as Albus.


“The map is gone.”

“Oh my god!” Layla erupted in a sudden uproar. She bolted out of her spot on the couch, as if something had just scared the piss out of her. “THAT’S BRAND NEW INFORMATION, TYLER! I DID NOT KNOW THE MAP WAS MISSING! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GRACING ME WITH BRAND NEW INFORMATION.”

I snorted as I watched Tyler throw Layla the finger. Dominique and Desmond followed suit, laughing loudly.

“I’d appreciate it if you guys didn’t broadcast the existence of the map in the middle of the common room.” Potters voice filled my ears, causing me to fall in a temporary dream-like state. It was all over the moment his cold face popped into my mind.

He didn’t stop to talk. Instead, he dropped a roll of parchment on Desmonds’ lap and ruffled Dominique’s hair before he continued walking towards the staircase.

I immediately ran after him, calling “Potter!” as loud as I could. “Potter!” I repeated.

Potter didn’t stop until he reached the top of the staircase. “What?” he asked dryly, turning around.

His tone surprised me slightly, causing me to recoil down one step. “Uh—er…” What was I going to ask him again?

“I don’t have time for this.” He said. He made a move to turn around, but I quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving one more step. “What?” he demanded impatiently.

“I—uh, is it true that you’ve never been able to get into Filch’s office?” Finally.

He gave me a strange look. “Why do you ask?”

I shrugged. “It… it was just something I heard.”

“If you’re thinking of breaking into Filch’s office, don’t waste your time.” He shook off my arm and continued walking towards the boys staircase.

Frustrated, I huffed and blew a stray strand of hair away from my face. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do.


The club was dark and had annoying strobe lights and a couple of colored spotlights planted in each corner. It smelled of booze and sweat. The music was blaring loudly — loud enough to be heard a street away — and the bass sent vibrations through the ground. There was a bar near the entrance, an extremely large dance floor, and several high tables on the outskirts of the club.

“How do you know about this place?” I asked (I had to scream very, very loud) Greyson as he led me to the bar.

“I came here a couple of times.” He answered once we reached the bar.

I snorted. “I never pegged you as the sort of guy who’s into muggle clubs.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Miss Rose.” He said with a smirk. “And this isn’t a muggle club, actually. My uncle owns the place, so it doesn’t matter if we’re underage.”

“What will you two be having?” the bartender asked approaching Greyson and I.

“The regular for me, Mike.” Greyson said.

“Er, just give me that pink thing you have there.” I nodded towards the set of clear glasses filled with pink liquid, which looked similar to the drinks that Victoire had left for us girls after her wedding.

“That drink is ghastly..” Greyson commented as the bartender set the drink on the counter in front of me. “Drink enough and you’ll be waking up tomorrow with absolutely no recollection of your previous night. “

“Then I guess I’ll just be having one of these.” I said while I brought the glass to my lips. Once I swallowed the familiar looking liquid, I winced inwardly as I felt it sear through my throat. It tasted a lot stronger than the liquor I drank at Victoire’s wedding. “Wow, that is strong.”

Greyson’s drink was set down in front of him by the bartender, and he followed suit, taking a sip.

“So… er,” I began once I started feeling awkward. “Is this date just some Slytherin scam, or do you really have a way to get into Nargus’ office?”

Surprisingly, Greyson chuckled. “You Gryffindors are not the type to beat around the bush, are you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop with this charming façade of yours. Let me tell you, I can see right past it.”

“And what exactly do you see?” he asked curiously as he took a step, leaning closer.

“I see a Slytherin. Would you like me to be blunt about this? I see as sleazebag.” I said.

He seemed taken aback by my words. “If I were a sleazebag, I would be here talking to you.” He smirked. “I’d be there,” he pointed towards the dance floor. “Trying to get into your pants with my killer dance moves.”

I eyed him strangely.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, nodding his head towards the dance floor.

I snorted. “You don’t just ask a girl to dance after what you’ve just said.” I told him. “We came to this club, we’ve had drinks — I think it’s safe to say that this is officially a date, and that it is officially over, no?”

“Nice try.” Greyson scoffed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “But if you want this, you’re going to have to go the whole way.”

“The whole way…?” I asked nervously, my voice quivered slightly as my mind immediately jumped to the scariest conclusions.

He smirked with amusement twinkling in his eyes. “The whole way. Until I drop you off in front of your common room. Why, what were you thinking about?” he asked in a teasing manner.

Greyson led me through the mob of people and towards the middle of the dance floor. He began dancing, surprisingly well, with an extremely smug look plastered on his face. Slightly impressed, I followed suit and began moving my body to the beat of the music.

I couldn’t believe that I was dancing with Greyson — with a Slytherin. I felt uncomfortable and awkward, and my dancing mirrored it perfectly. Although, I have to admit, the date was turning out better than I had hoped. He was a — I hate to admit it — perfect gentleman. He picked me up from the Gryffindor Common Room, and led me to the painting, which was a secret passage way to Hogs Head Tavern, in the Room of Requirements. But that was it. He was too much of a gentleman, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any ulterior motives behind his actions that night.

I felt his hand gingerly holding my waist and pulling me closer while we danced. Uncomfortably, I cleared my throat and tried to take a step back, but Greyson wouldn’t have it. His hold tightened and he pulled me ever closer. Instinctively, in order to keep a safe and acceptable distance in between our bodies, my hands flew up to his shoulders. He, however, took it as encouragement.

My face grew flush from the alcohol and the heat. I’m almost positive that the unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach added to the unnatural pink hue that spread across my cheeks.

Greyson noticed my face turning pink and smirked. “Are you embarrassed?” he asked playfully.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why so serious, Rose?”

“Why do you keep calling me Rose?” I retorted. “My name is Victoria. No one calls me Rose.”

“There’s a first for everything.” He replied, his tone suddenly not so playful anymore. “Would you prefer it if I called you Victoria? It’s a strange name, if you ask me. I like Rose better.”

I scowled. “Rose is my best friends’ cousins’ name. Even Potter doesn’t call me Rose.” I muttered the last part under my breathe.

“Ah, speaking of Potter…” He began walking down a road that I wasn’t willing to talk about. However, I couldn’t ignore the butterflies — it’s so fucking sickening — that graced my tummy with its presence the moment Potters’ name was mentioned. “How does he feel about his girlfriend being out on a date with a Slytherin? I’m guessing that he’s not taking it well.”

“I don’t want to talk about Potter right now.” I snapped. “If you know that Potter and I are dating, why did you insist on a date?”

He shrugged. “You interest me, Rose.”

“My name is Victoria.” I reminded him sternly.

“Ro —”

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t my girlfriend, on a date with a Slytherin.”

My stomach tightened, my eyes went wide, and my breath hitched in my throat. No… It couldn’t possibly be.

James Potter

When Tyler strode into our dorm, it was around nine in the evening. I was working on (or at least trying to work on) my History of Magic essay while lounging against a pillow propped up against my headboard. He was whistling to himself, and that was the first signal. He strode right through the door and straight to his messy bed before he closed the hangings. That was the second signal. I eyed his bed from across the room. After a couple of minutes, Tyler’s hand reached through the hangings and grabbed his school bag from the ground. That was the third signal. Tyler never willingly did homework. Never.

I sighed and shoved my books aside. Studying was useless when there was too much on my mind. I walked towards Tyler’s bed and drew the hangings open.

Once the hangings were open, he looked like a deer under headlights. His eyes were wide while he chewed on a sugar quill and had a textbook open on his lap. He looked entirely too suspicious.

“What did you do?” I interrogated him immediately.

His eyes grew wider, if even possible. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice more high pitched than usual.

I eyed him suspiciously. “You did something.” I deduced.

“No I didn’t!” he exclaimed, a little too indignantly.

“Stop lying through your arse, and tell me what you did.”

“I did nothing!” He screamed loudly.

I stared at him intensely.

“.. Stop looking at me.” He tried avoiding my gaze.

I continued staring.

Tyler looked up to see if I was still staring, but immediately dropped his gaze when he realized that my eyes were still boring into his. “Stop that.”

I continued staring.


I continued staring.


I smirked smugly to myself and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for his response.

He looked uncomfortable and hesitant. “Well.. uh, you see… Vicky, well I think you should just ask Vicky when she gets back.” Tyler jumped out of his bed and quickly ran to the door, but I stepped in front of him, blocking him from the exit. “Ask Vicky!” he shouted loudly.

“Where is she?” I questioned.

Tyler looked like he was about to piss his pants. “When did I say that she was anywhere but here? She’s up in her dorm! Washing… washing her lady parts..” he frowned at his own lie.

I stared him down.

“Fuck.” Tyler cursed, looking away. “Alright, alright! She’s.. she’s out.”

“Out where?” I asked.

What kind of fucking trouble did Victoria get herself into now?


“Out where?”

“To Diagon Alley.”

“What’s she doing in Diagon Alley?”

“She’s… onadate.”

“She’s what?”


“Stop mumbling and speak.

“She’s on a date.” He admitted through gritted teeth.

Instinctively, my jaw tightened. “On a date with who?”

He muttered something indistinct as he bowed his head.

“Speak up.” I ordered.

Tyler sighed in defeat. “James Greyson.”

“She’s what?!” Both Tyler and I whipped around to face the doorway, only to find Desmond standing there with a revolted look on his face. “Who did you just say Victoria was with?” he demanded loudly.

I was taken a back by Desmonds’ sudden outburst. It was rare that Desmond was ever this serious and this… intimidating. “What’s going on, Des?” I asked.

“She’s with Greyson. They went to some Wizards Club near the Leaky Cauldron.” Tyler answered, looking confused as well. “What’s going on?”

“How are you going to let her go out with a Slytherin?!” Desmond demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and walked right out of the dormitory.

After sharing a glance, Tyler and I grabbed our trainers and ran after Desmond. Before stepping out the door, I hesitated once I caught sight of my old, ratty Quidditch jersey that I had outgrown since my fifth year. Without giving it a second thought, I pulled the jersey off the hook and followed down the stairs after Tyler and Desmond.

The entire journey to the wizard club, I remained silent despite the pressing questions that refused to leave my mind. Why the fuck was Victoria on a date with some Slytherin, and why was Tyler so afraid and hesitant to tell me about it? Why did I feel so angry and… I wasn’t even sure what this feeling was. Could it be anxiousness? Since when did I ever feel anxious over something?

Merlin’s fucking beard, I could not understand why Victoria just could not stay out of trouble. How could a seventeen year old girl be so unbelievably clumsy? It’s like she’s a bloody magnet for unfortunate events, and somehow, Desmond, Tyler and I were eventually roped into her troubles. I was getting tired of picking up after the wreckage that she never fails to leave behind. She was Desmonds’ responsibility, not mine. She was Desmonds’ best friend, and she’s nothing to me. It was unlucky for the both of us to be, shall I say, graced (?) with a Cupid as a best mate. Because he conveniently happened to be on Cupid business each time Victoria tripped on her shoelaces or decided to spontaneously faint in the middle of a crowded corridor, she always ended up in my hands. Tyler was always a bit too reckless to be handed a child in need of babysitting. So she was always left to me.

For a while, I didn’t mind. Because of our mutual dislike for each other, she always tried to stay out of my way, and I tried to stay out of hers. I would step into Desmonds’ shoes until he returned, and that was that. That’s where it all ended. It was always the kind of situation that worked out well for the both of us. But eventually, things got worse.

Victoria and I started to find ourselves around each other more and more as the years went by. I knew it was inevitable. Having the same best mates meant having to be around each other more that we would have liked. We were both well prepared for it. All our lives, we’ve been prepared for the insults, the fights, the teasing and the not so playful bantering. What we weren’t prepared for, however, was the package that came beyond ‘enemies’. We never knew it would ever come to this, but soon enough, it did. No matter how much we try to deny it, it was facts. We were becoming more and more involved, and each day, we step into more and more unfamiliar territory. The serious conversations, the metaphors insinuated in our everyday exchanges, the anger with inexplicable sources, and the unfamiliar feelings that neither of us could escape.

I was growing tired of the fights that used to mean less in the past, but was not filled with words that had always been left unsaid in between us. I didn’t want to deal with someone who, over the years, I was forced to start caring about. I was fucking tired of feeling guilty for hurting her, even though she wasn’t even my responsibility.

And here I was, following my two mates to save the fucking damsel in distress. The damsel in distress that I did not even fucking care about one bit. I could be in my dorm, catching up on some well needed sleep.

Once we entered the club, Tyler and Desmond dispersed among the crowd in search for the irritating blonde. Part of me wasn’t that interested in finding her, but another part of me, simply wanted to find her so that I had someone to take my anger out on.

It took about another five to ten minutes before I finally spotted her. She was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing. She was not alone, of course. Greyson was dancing with her. He had his disgusting hands all over her body, and she had hers resting on his shoulders.

A sudden monster erupted in the pit of my stomach, and it would not cease, no matter how hard I tried to control my rage. Watching Victoria — watching the girl who I had spent years unwillingly caring for — dancing with another man really made my day.

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t my girlfriend on a date with a Slytherin.” I found myself saying against my will, like word vomit. I couldn’t control it. It just kept coming out. “I never thought that you would be the type to cheat.”

Victoria slowly turned around with wide eyes.

“Potter.” Greyson greeted coldly.

I ignored him since my eyes were glued on Victoria. She was looking around, her eyes scanning the club. “You’re here with Desmond and Tyler?” she asked.

I nodded.

She turned around to face Greyson and said, “I think this date is over.”

After sharing a simple look, Greyson was smart enough to take this as his cue to leave. Victoria glared at me before she followed his motions and began walking through the crowd, headed for the door.

I followed her. “Where do you think you’re going?” I demanded angrily once we became engulfed by the chilly autumn air.

“Back to the castle, where do you think I’m going?” she retorted quickly without turning back. For the first time that night, I took notice of what she was wearing. It looked like she was more into this date than Tyler had let on. She was wearing a short, black dress, with sparkling red heels.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, going on a date with him?” I asked as I tried my best to hide the anger in my voice. “He’s a Slytherin! Since when did you start dating Slytherins?”

“Why do you care?” she shouted. “I’m not really your girlfriend, Potter. I can date whoever the fuck I want.”

Angry, I grabbed her arm tightly and spun her around. “Who are you kidding, Victoria? You’re in love with me. How can you possibly want to date other guys?” I reminded her bluntly.

“You’re an arrogant prick, did you know that?” she said through gritted teeth.

I scoffed with bitterness and amusement before I looked away with disbelief. “I’m just stating the facts.” I said. “Now tell me the real reason why you’re on a date with Greyson.”

“When are you going to stop ordering me around like I’m your fucking servant?” she shouted angrily. “All you ever do is tell me what to do now because you know that I have no fucking choice but to make you happy.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Everyone has a choice, Vic.” I reminded her with a stern voice.

She laughed sourly. “Love never really gave people much of a choice.”

I no longer knew what to say. How could I offer a rebuttal if I had absolutely no idea what I was talking about? So I looked away in defeat. Victoria did the same, and we settled in an uncomfortable silence.

She crossed her arms over her chest before I noticed a shiver run through her bones. “Look.. Potter,” she began in a soft voice. “I — I’m really sorry. For everything. For the night of Victoire’s wedding, and for losing your map, and well.. just for everything.” There was a look in her eyes that told me just how tired Victoria had gotten over the years. She looked worn out. Her shoulders sagged in defeat, and she refused to show any signs of fighting back like she always did.

I looked away, uncomfortable. This was the first time Victoria has ever taken responsibility and apologized for something. Even though I should have been relieved, angry and slightly smug about this entire situation, I felt nothing but guilt. A heavy sigh escaped my lips and my shoulders sagged slightly against the guilt. For the first time since I left the castle, I noticed the unfamiliar weight resting on my right arm.

Glancing downwards, I suddenly remembered the jersey that I had taken without even thinking about it. I guess in the back of my mind I was… I was thinking about Victoria. After all these years of being forced to look after her must have taken some long term effect on me. I sighed again and looked away, feeling extremely lame for what I was about to do. “Here,” I said, handing her the jersey.

Victoria looked at it hesitantly. I supposed she was surprised by the small subconscious (although she did not know that part) act. Nevertheless, she took the jersey from the crook of my arm and put it on. “Thanks.” Was all she said.

Silently, we walked through Leaky Cauldron, stopping at the fireplace that would take us directly into Hogshead tavern. Tyler and Desmond was long forgotten, and truth be told, they remained forgotten until we arrived back in Hogsmeade.

“If it makes this situation any better,” Victoria began, in hopes of lightening the mood as we walked out of Hogs Head. She was looking down at her feet while she walked. Her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of my jersey. I couldn’t help but notice how attractive she looked in my clothes. “It was a shit date.”

Because I wasn’t expecting her words, I simply laughed. We walked back to the Castle together, mostly in silence, completely forgetting about the passageway that connected Hogs Head to the Room of Requirements. I supposed anyone could say that we made up, even though we were probably still bitter towards each other in some way or another. But none of it mattered. None of it. Because in that short, yet long journey from Hogsmeade to the castle, it was all forgotten.

A/N: hi! so here's the next chapter. thoughts, comments questions? please review!

Love, Gryffgirl.

Chapter 15: Heart to Hearts and Insatiable Desires
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Fourteen

Victoria Rose

Out of all the people in Hogwarts, I was, unluckily, stuck with this lot as friends. I reckoned it was the dangerous truth. I, Victoria Rose, was fated to have utter goons as friends, because normal is just not for me. The universe has made that pretty clear during the pas sixteen years that I have been living. There was never a second when something was not going wrong, and there was never a year at Hogwarts where we did not spend the majority of our time scheming like little bitches.

I loved them with all my heart, but for once, I just wished that we could have a normal year together. But that seemed almost impossible.

“Mate, please, I’m begging you.” Desmond begged in a whiney voice as he dropped his head against the table and clasped his hands together. Ever since Sylvia, who was acting nice in a strange sort of way, approached Desmond that morning, he has been shamelessly begging Potter to take Sylvia out on a date. Why? Because Potter has somehow gotten it into his head that if Potter takes Sylvia out, it will get her off his tail.

I think the entire idea was thestral poo.

And I’m not just saying that because I’m in love with Potter… or whatever else you could call this monstrosity of a feeling inside of me.

Potter, for the tenth time, rolled his eyes and bit into his blueberry muffin. Even eating a muffin made him look… irresistibly attractive.


I hated blueberry muffins.

I hated Potter.

“No.” he answered sternly. “That girl is insane, mate. She’ll probably ramble about you nonstop if I try to take her out. Why don’t you ask Ty?”

Desmond glanced at Tyler, but immediately shook his head. “Tyler isn’t her type!”

Potter looked confused. “And what is her type? I thought male was her type.”

“I’m her type.” Desmond replied arrogantly.

Dominique snorted into her pumpkin juice. Lovely, Dom. Just bloody lovely. Now you’ve got pumpkin juice dripping down your chin.

“And since you’re most like me between the three of us…” Desmond continued.

Potter threw Dominique a napkin from across the table. She scowled at him, but nevertheless, took the napkin and wiped her face free of juice.

“Please, Jamesie Poo, please, please, please? I will forever be in your debt. I’ll do anything, please. Think of it this way! If I go on a date with her, she could..” Desmond looked around with wide eyes before he turned back to Potter. “Rape me,” he whispered fearfully.

Now I snorted into my pumpkin juice. But before I could take control, the liquid maneuvered itself down my throat quicker than I could take a breath, causing me to start coughing uncontrollably.

Potter, who happened to be sitting beside me that morning (it just ended up that way), threw me a disgusted look. He roughly grabbed the half empty goblet from my hand and set it back on the table, replacing it with water. He didn’t look pleased. “What makes you think she won’t rape me if I go on a date with her?” Potter retorted, turning back to Desmond.

Desmond scoffed smugly and ran his hand through his already messy hair. “Well mate, let’s be honest here. I think if any girl had the choice, it would be me.”

“Honest? Alright Dessie, let’s be honest.” Potter smirked, setting his half eaten blueberry muffin down on his plate. “In fifth year, who did Melissa choose between you and me?”

It was a touchy subject, Melissa Endwise. The one and only girl that had come in between Desmond and Potter since they met in our first year. As far as I knew, in the end, Melissa chose Potter, but got neither Desmond nor Potter. That little slut deserved it. Serves her right.

“She knew that you were the more sensitive one.” Desmond replied. “She still secretly saw me behind your back.”

“Okay, now you two are just being idiots.” Dominique spoke up for the first time that morning. “Just shut up and eat your bloody food.”

Tyler looked… scared? “Dom, hun, relax.” He said, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

Dom ignored him. “James, please just go on the date with Sylvia. Who knows, maybe it will work. We all know that you’re the more charming one.”

Desmond’s mouth dropped open, surprised and offended. “I resent that Dominique.”

Dom ignored him too. James looked smug.

“She’s right.” Layla said. “I mean, maybe in the end, Sylvia will fancy the pants off of you, and that would be better for all of us since you’re not the Cupid that we have to all help protect.”

James glared at Desmond. “Merlin, being friends with you comes with a lot of tied strings, doesn’t it?”

Desmond merely gave him a cheeky grin.

“But I have a girlfriend.” James reminded everyone.

He glanced at me. I think my heart just involuntarily skipped a beat.

“She knows it. The whole bloody school knows it.”

“Tell her that you two are on a break.” She shrugged.

“I don’t think she’s going to buy that.” I said tentatively.

Desmond smirked at me knowingly.

I ignored him.

James sighed in defeat. “What makes you guys think that she’s even going to say yes to me?”

“Just work your magic, James.” Layla said reassuringly. “There’s no way that she’ll be able to say no to you if you try your best. No girl in this school can. Except your family. And me, of course.”

“And me!” I added indignantly.

“Honey, you’re in love with him.” Layla reminded me, placing a hand over mine from across the table.

“Against my will.” I grumbled childishly.

Potter chuckled softly as he looked at me.

“Sorry, Vic.” He said, still looking at me. Once I turned to him, I was surprised by his expression. As long as I’ve known Potter, he’s never looked at me so… softly and tenderly. “I think we’re going to have to push back our date until the next Hogsmeade trip.”

I looked at him, confused. “What?” I asked.

He laughed. “You forgot your own proposal.”

“What date?” I blinked.

“Never mind. I suppose it’s best if you don’t remember.” He replied quickly.

“You asked him for one date so that you would rejoin the Quidditch team, remember?” Tyler reminded me nonchalantly.

Potter glared at him.

“Oh, that date..” I trailed off. “Sure, I guess that’s fine.”

“Oh!” Layla exclaimed suddenly, surprising each and every one of us. “I almost forgot to tell you guys!” she grinned excitedly and clapped her hands together. “There’s going to be a Halloween masquerade ball this year!”

Dominique and I looked excited as piss. The boys.. well the boys looked as excited as me heading to classes on a Monday morning.

“How do you know?” Dominique asked. “Usually they don’t announce these things until the week before!”

“I’m on the decorating committee. The prefects needed help, so I volunteered myself! You guys should volunteer too!” She said to Dom and I. “It’s actually perfect since we have two more Hogsmeade trips before the actual ball, which gives us plenty of time to pick out our outfits!”

Suddenly, Dom grumbled. “I can’t go to Hogsmeade on Saturday. I need to help Lils and Rose out with something.”

Layla looked at her solemnly. “I’ll pick something out for you? If you don’t like it we can always return it the next Hogsmeade trip.”

Dom thanked her before Layla turned to me. “So what do you say, Vic?” she asked. “Girls day at Hogsmeade on Saturday?”

Well fuck, I was dateless. Potter just bailed on me to take out the girl that was obsessed with Desmond. That doesn’t really look good on my part. Fuck, it’s not like I really wanted to go on a date with Potter.. It was just the arrow talking. “Sure thing.”

Hogsmeade Trip


“Victoria, hurry up, we’re going to miss the carriages!” Layla called from the bathroom. “Vic!” she shouted even louder this time.


“Why are you coughing?” she asked with an ‘are-you-serious?’ look on her face. “Are you trying to play sick again?”

“No I’m serious Layla.” I wheezed in a pretend voice. “I have a massive headache and a feel a cold coming on.”


I was actually getting really good at this whole playing sick thing. Really, Really good.


-Cough even louder-

She sighed heavily. “Do you want me to pick up your things?” she asked.

“Yes please.” I nodded with a small pout on my face. “Oh, and would you please pick up these things as well?” I pulled a list from my bedside table and set it on her lap.

Layla’s eyes widened when she saw the length of the list. “What the fuck is all of this shit?”

I almost laughed.


“Just things that I need.”

“Where do I even get these?” she asked, dumbfounded as her eyes continued scanning through the list. “I haven’t heard of half the things here.”

I waved my hand and rolled over to the other side of my bed. “Take Desmond with you, he knows where to buy everything. Oh, and don’t forget to pick out a costume for me. Thanks, I love you.”

With one last roll of her eyes, Layla grabbed her bag from the foot of her bed, slipped on her knee-high boots and walked out the door. I let out a sigh of relief.

My ingenious plan was slowly falling into place









-Still nothing-


It was a beautiful Autumn, Saturday afternoon, and Tyler was stuck in bloody detention. Okay, to be completely honest, I could care less where Tyler is during beautiful afternoons. But today, I needed him to execute my awesome, fool-proof plan.

He was in the trophy room, polishing trophies. After all these years, you’d think that Hogwarts would have thought of better, and more efficient punishments. One would think that after enough detentions, the trophies would be gleaming. I think Filch purposely dirties them for punishment purposes… Suddenly, everything seems rather suspicious.

“Victoria?” Tyler asked sounding befuddled

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, it’s me you twat.”

“Do you have detention too?” He asked excitedly.

“No. I’m not an idiot like you.”

“Oh.” He said. “So, er… why are you here?” he asked.

“I’m here to help you escape!” I exclaimed. “Now hurry up and come with me before Filch comes back.”

Tyler looked confused. “But I need my wand. I can’t get it back until I’ve finished.”

Suddenly remembering about his wand, I scanned the room and searched for the mop that always seemed permanently attatched to the large grey bucket that was sitting in front of Tyler. “Ah-ha!” I muttered to myself. I unscrewed the wooden stick from the head of the mop and pulled Tyler’s wand out from the hollow opening. “Filch thinks he’s clever hiding it here.” I remarked quietly.

Tyler, however, looked amazed.

“That’s where he keeps the wands?” his mouth fell open. “All these years of countless detentions, and my wand was literally right under my nose…”

I rolled my eyes. “Off to Filch’s office!” I pointed towards the exit of the trophy room and ran, head first through the door. Tyler followed in a similar fashion. “Today is the day, my son.” I began dramatically as I turned around to face him. “Today is the day we go down as legends. Today is the day,” I looked off to some random space behind Tyler’s head and raised my hands. “that we become the first students in History to ever break into Nargus Filch’s office.”

He snorted with amusement. “We’re not the first.”

I dropped my hands to my sides and sighed. “Alright, whatever, second or third. It doesn’t really matter. Point is, we’re getting the map back today!”

“How did you get the keys?” he questioned once we started walking. “I wouldn’t exactly call that night a date..”

I shrugged. “Greyson knows how Potter can be, although I, myself, can’t even understand. I’m not entirely too sure actually. But he’s only lending it for the day. He wants it back by dinner.”

Tyler scoffed. “Typical Slytherin.”

“If I had the only set of keys that could open Filch’s office, I’d want it back too.” I didn’t know why I was defending Greyson. I guess it was because he gave me no reason to patronize him in anyway. I noticed the differences between typical Slytherins, and Greyson. Honestly, they were minor, but at the same time, they made all the difference in the world. “C’mon, this way is a shortcut.”

“How do you know?” Tyler asked, following me down the unfamiliar corridor.

“I remember it… I think.”

Despite my apprehension, Tyler followed me down the corridor without another word.

Finally, we reached Filch’s office. After staring at the door for a good thirty seconds, I pulled the keys from my pocket and began pushing random keys through random locks. While in the process of opening the first lock, I held my breath. Although I did say that Greyson was different from the other Slytherins, there was a little part of me that couldn’t help feeling skeptical. He was a Slytherin after all. No one can be too sure about trusting a Slytherin.

This might just be my Gryffindor pride talking.

Ten minutes passed, and I only managed to unlock two bolts. Tyler, who had grown tired of waiting behind me, slumped against the wall beside the door and slid to the ground. I felt his eyes on me as I fiddled with the next lock. “Where’s Filch now?” he asked.

“Manning the carriages.” I answered. “Students are still piling in, so we have a good twenty minutes before he returns.”

“What happens if we can’t get the map within twenty minutes?” he asked.

“We get caught.” I said plainly.

I expected Tyler to have a more animated response as opposed to the term of silence he settled in. This caused me to glance in his direction. He was staring up at the ceiling with a concentrated look on his face.

After the bottom lock opened with a click, a feeling of satisfaction spread through my body. Five more to go.


I pulled the next unused key and slid it through one of the locked bolts. As my curiosity suddenly sparked, I glanced at Tyler again. He was still staring at the ceiling. “What’s on your mind?” I asked, sticking the key into another bolt. No match.

Tyler sighed heavily. “What do you think about Dom?” he asked suddenly.

Taken aback by his question, I stopped abruptly. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I mean, let’s say that you were a bloke. Through a bloke’s point of view, how would you see Dom?”

“Er…” I hesitated and turned back to trying to unlock the door. “Well.. I’m not sure. If I were a bloke… well, I guess I’d like her, sort of? She’s a little bit like Layla, but a more feminine version.” Tyler seemed to be listening carefully as I spoke. “She’s… I guess she’s a little high maintenance. Dom is the type of girl that likes attention, but she comes by attention easily, so she never had any problems in that dep —“

“What do you mean, she comes by attention easily?” he interrupted.

I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. “Dom’s gorgeous, Tyler. Don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed it.”

He laughed a sour laugh. “Of course I’ve noticed it. I’ve noticed it since we were eleven years old. Every male in this school has noticed it. But attention… attention should be given not just to the beautiful.”

“She’s smart too.” I added and turned back to the door. “She may not show it that much, but she inherited her mother’s brains, and her fathers’ personality. Dom is just lazy to use it. She may not be nice, but she’s considerate, at times. She’s not as playful, since she has a low tolerance for bullshit, but she’s bendable. I think that she’d be a perfect girlfriend… in her own special way.”

Tyler gave me a look that forced me to correct myself. “Alright, we all know that Dom isn’t perfect. She has her flaws. She’s irritably cranky all the fucking time, along with Layla, and she can be a bitch when she want to be. She’s loud and obnoxious at times, and she’s too fickle to stay in a steady relationship. She’s possessive and blunt to the point where it’s rude. Sometimes her insecurities get the best of her, and we all know that. But.. that’s what makes her Dominique. Perfect little Dominique. Without all that, what fun would she be?”

Again, he sighed heavily. “Perfect. Who knows what perfect is anymore?” he asked, turning his head towards me.

It was strange seeing this side of Tyler. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen the playfully eccentric idiot (he’s not really an idiot when it really matters) who seemed to be incapable of being serious. I never even thought about him having more than one side at all. He’s always been carefree, lively, and funny. As I stared at him, it looked like bits of pieces were breaking away from his heart little by little.

“Why do you ask?” My voice gradually became softer as the conversation continued. “You love Dominique, don’t you? Even though you have no choice, you love her, regardless.”

“I…” he seemed skeptic. “I’m actually not sure.”

By now, I started working on the second to last lock. “How is that possible? You were shot by an arrow.”

“I know that, but.. I just don’t feel it anymore.” He answered. “That soaring feeling you get in the pit of your stomach whenever you see the person you love.” He placed a hand on top of his stomach wistfully and smiled at the memory. “It’s not there anymore. Do you still feel like that?”

I coughed uncomfortably and fiddled with the lock. “Yes, I reckon I do.” I answered, embarrassed.

“I like Dom.” He reminded me. “I really do. I’ve liked her since I was eleven.”

I turned to him with a shocked look on my face. “You never told me that!” I exclaimed sharply. “You’ve never told anyone that!”

He snorted. “Desmond and James knew. Desmond never let me live it down, and James threatened me in the very Potter-like way. Those boys just know how to keep a secret. Merlin knows that they’ve got plenty of their own.”

I laughed. “Oh yes, I know that way.”

“But anyway. I like her.” He said. “She’s beautiful. She’s hot. She’s smart. She’s funny. She can play Quidditch.” He shut his eyes tightly and a smile played on his lips. “Merlin, girls who can play Quidditch are so bloody hot.” I rolled my eyes as he continued. “But that’s besides the point. I’ve liked Dom since I was a child, and she was the only girl I ever wanted.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming…” I said quietly.

“But.. I don’t know Vic. Dom should be with someone so much better. I can’t.. I can’t be with someone like that. It just doesn’t add up. ”

As I turned towards Tyler, the last bolt unlocked with a click. I was surprised with his words, but I felt… relieved, in a strange sort of way. Tyler, who was one of the biggest players in Gryffindor, cared about what Dom deserved. I felt grateful and touched on behalf of my best friend. At the same time, I felt sad for Tyler.

I bent down to his level. “You’re secretly a sweetheart, aren’t you?” I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Truthfully, I don’t know what to say to you, Ty.” I could tell that he was seconds away from laughing bitterly. “But, what I can tell you, is that you’ve got a good heart. And that’s a quality that Dom rarely comes by.”

Unexpectedly, Tyler smiled. He genuinely smiled. His dimples came out and his teeth shined. As he stood up and dusted himself off, he looked at me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I can never understand why James hates you.” He said before he pushed open the heavy door. “Are you ready for this?” he asked with a grin.

I grinned back, and turned my head forward. I prepared myself for what was ahead. “Let’s do it.”


We literally raided Filch’s office. Almost every useful thing that the bugger has ever confiscated was now in our possession. From dung bombs to smuggled love potions. We had it all. We replicated everything we had stolen and placed it neatly in Filch’s office, so that he wouldn’t expect anything. We replicated everything except the map. Tyler wanted Filch to know that we were in there. He wanted him to know that the map was back in James Potters’ hands, and that he didn’t win just yet.

After gathering everything in a sack we found in his office, we ran for it and returned to the common room before Filch returned. We dropped off the goods in the boys dormitories before Tyler lead me towards the kitchens with the very useful map back in our possessions!

However, we never managed to reach our destination.

While passing the main entrance, I caught sight of Potter and Sylvia. They were bloody holding hands.

I was going to cut someone.

I didn’t want to.

But I was going to fucking cut someone.

Tyler, who was completely oblivious to this entire scene before us, continued strutting towards them. Before he could be sighted, I tackled him into the nearest alcove and forced my hand against his mouth. “Shh!” I shushed as quiet as I could. “James and Sylvia are back.” I exclaimed. Slowly, I withdrew my hand from his mouth. Thankfully, Tyler complied and stayed quiet.

From the alcove, I watched as the two stopped in front of the staircase. Sylvia was smiling, and James was… well he was being his charming fucking self. They were speaking quietly — too quiet for me to hear. I wish I had extendable ears right now…

Suddenly, he started leaning into her smile. HE WAS FUCKING LEANING IN. Please, Merlin, Mother of Merlin, Son of Merlin, Father of Merlin, please, please, please, tell me that he’s not going to kiss her.

Potter leaned in closer and closer until their noses were touching.

From beside me, Tyler gasped and snorted. “Holy balls, he’s going to kiss her!” he hissed with a whisper. “Shit, James is really going for it! Wow, he really doesn’t do anything half-assed, does he?” he asked, turning to me as if waiting for me to agree.

I glared at him before turning back to Potter, idiot # 2.

They were talking to each other; whispering. A flirtatious smile still plagued her soon-to-be chopped up face. Her eyes were slightly closed, and Potter seemed to be staring at her thin lips.

“I wonder what they’re talking about.” Tyler whispered near my ear.

He began leaning closer, and closer. He was about a mere centimeter away from filling the gap.

“That’s it.” I grumbled under my breath. I whipped my wand out of my back pocket and quickly pointed it in their direction before Potter’s lips managed to touch hers. I muttered a simple charm, and almost instantly, her two front teeth began growing at a rapid rate.

“Vic!” Tyler gasped and then began whining. “What did you do that for? I wanted to see him kiss her! I would’ve been able to hold it against him for the next few months.

I kept my eyes on Potter and ignored Tyler completely. I wasn’t even aware he said anything until he nudged me with his elbow a minute or so later. Potter began look around, in search of the culprit. Sylvia, on the other hand, was making an extremely large fuss over her teeth.

“Time to go!” I exclaimed once James had his back turned. I grabbed Tyler and we bolted up the stairs as fast as our legs could carry us. We ran back to the common room and once we were inside, we collapsed on the couch. “That was close.” I said with difficulty breathing. I wasn’t the best runner.

“I think he saw us.” Tyler said fearfully.

Moments later, the sound of the portrait hole opening filled our ears. Our eyes grew wide. Without thinking, I kicked Tyler off the couch and shoved him towards the staircase. “Go to your dorm! Go, go, go! Pretend you were taking a nap!”

Luckily, he did not ask questions. He simply picked his arse off the ground and raced up the stairs.

I, on the other hand, tried my best to make it seem like I had been taking a nap the whole day. I laid my head against a cushion and shut my eyes tightly. I felt my heart race faster and faster as footsteps approached the couch. Suddenly, someone poked my arm. Trying to stick to my superb acting, I ignored the poke and continued ‘sleeping’. Someone poked me again. I ignored it. Another poke. Ignored. The poker sighed heavily before I felt my entire body being shaken awake.

“Victoria.” It was Potter.

Slowly, I raised one eyelid open. “What?” I tried to muster the best ‘sleepy’ voice I could on short notice. “Fuck, Potter what do you want?” I grumbled dramatically.

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he walked over to the end of the couch, picked up both my feet with one hand, sat down, and then dropped my feet on his lap. I stared at him. “Were you sleeping here all day?” he questioned.

Slowly, I nodded, and pushed my hands over my head in order to stretch. I softly moaned unintentionally. Potter looked away suddenly. “I got bored of my dorm. My bed was starting to hurt my back.”

He glanced at the couch. “This cushion is no better than your bed.”

I shrugged. “It’s soft.” I nestled my head deeper into the pillow and smiled. “Why are you back so early?” I asked him, trying to play it cool. “I think there’s about an hour and a half more until everyone else has to start coming back.

Potter looked away. “No reason, I just wanted to come back early.”

I frowned. “Weren’t you on a date?”

He nodded. “It wasn’t that great of a date.” Potter admitted. “Sylvia… let’s just say she reads way too much books. She’s so.. boring.”

“So girls who read books are boring?” I asked with disbelief.

“No!’ Potter exclaimed. “Don’t get me wrong. Girls who read are rather educated and interesting, and I appreciate them.” He then grinned wistfully. “I mean that’s why Ravenclaw girls are so damn fun to date.”

I grumbled against the pillow. “You’re repugnant.” I muttered under my breath.

He chuckled. “Why thank you.” He said sarcastically, and then he eyed me curiously. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous.” There was amusement visible in his voice.

I scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter. It’s not an easy feat, making me jealous.”

He then laughed loudly. “I think you get jealous rather easily.”

“My, my, your head is getting rather large these days.” I remarked. “You better watch out. Soon enough, your broom might not be able to handle the weight.”

Potter ignored my remark, and continued teasing. “Would you like it better if I preferred Gryffindors over Ravenclaws?”

“Show some house pride, you daft wanker.”

“Hm..” he began thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Gryffindors are rather... well, don’t get me wrong. Gryffindors are the best. But in terms of girls, they’re rather.. to be down right honest, they’re… they’re practically blokes in my eyes. But they are definitely a step higher than Hufflepuffs, and of course, your average Slytherin.”

I gave Potter a look of disbelief. “So.. us Gryffindor girls are blokes in your eyes.” I summarized, trying to take it all in.

“You all look like girls.. but well.. you can’t deny it. You, Dom and Layla all act like men most of the time. I mean, why do you think it’s so easy for Des, Tyler and I to be around the three of you all the time?” he asked. “And it’s not just you three. All the other girls in Gryffindor do have some feminine qualities, but their personalities don’t exactly scream out female.

“Which is why you go for the girly Ravenclaws.” I finished for him.

He nodded.

“So, just because Layla, Dom and I would rather hang out with you guys and watch a Quidditch match, than hang out in our dorm while reading girly magazines, painting our nails and gossiping all night, we are not female enough for an average bloke to date.”

“Yes — wait, what? No!” Potter exclaimed suddenly. “You completely missed the whole point of what I just said.”

“Then make yourself clearer, Potter, cause you’re not making any sense.”

“What I meant was, Ravenclaw girls are the type of girls that us blokes mess around with and date for fun.” He turned to me and bore his eyes into mine. “Gryffindor girls.. well.. like I said. They’re like blokes, but in girl form.” He looked like he was having trouble explaining. “They’re the ones you can fool around with. Not in any sexual way, but.. er.. they’re playful.”

I rolled my eyes impatiently. “Get to the point.”

“They’re not the type of girls you fuck around with.” He said finally. “They’re meant for so much more than just a simple fuck. I do have some house pride, as a matter of fact. Which is why I try my best to stay away from the Gryffindors. Things tend to get complicated with them.”

“Ah…” I uttered, trying to comprehend what Potter had just said.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Don’t — just don’t try to comprehend it. It’s more of a bloke thing.”

But I did understand. I understood perfectly. I understood how Gryffindor girls did not have the type of personality a bloke could just toss around, and be done with. Although Ravenclaws don’t deserve the be treated like a whore either. They simply had a more.. playful personality, in a completely sexual way. In Potter’s language ‘I could fuck a Ravenclaw without feeling even an ounce of guilt.’

So many questions swam into my mind as I recalled the several physical exchanges Potter and I had shared. I recalled those times he snogged me senseless, without any clear explanation as to why. The question was rolling off the tip of my tongue. I was simply dying to ask it, but something told me that if I were to place the question on the table, I would be walking on very, very thin ice. What if I really was just something fun, and someone who will eventually find her way into the disposal bin of Potters’ life when he was through?

However, before I could even open my mouth, Potter cleared his throat and gave me a curious look. Deciding quickly, I shoved all the questions out of my mind and thought of something else to say. I was silent for a while. I had to be thinking about something or else I’d just look daft.

“Ravenclaws?” I began. “In truth, after last night, I’ve gained an interest for Slytherins.”

Potter looked at me with disbelief. “Slytherins?” he asked. “Really, Vic? Slytherins? They’re vile, and you can never expect anything from them.”

“If I remember correctly, you dated a Slytherin.” I reminded him dryly. “For a while, in fact. You seemed pretty shake —”

“Which is why I stand by what I just said.” He interrupted quickly. I could tell that Amelie was a touchy topic between us, or maybe it was touchy topic between Potter an anyone. Regardless, I knew my limits. So I let it go.

“When is it ever fun to expect things?” I said to him. “It’s fun to not know what to expect. After my date with Greyson, I must admit, it was… uncomfortable, but if I wasn’t so uncomfortable, it would have been.. alright.”

He scoffed. “Your taste in men has really gotten worse. First Willow, now Greyson?”

“Tell me about it.” I said, agreeing. “I’m in love with you, aren’t I?”

He laughed, and then asked, changing the subject. “Are you sure you were here all day? We left at nine o’clock.. It’s nearly five.”

“Just here.” I nodded. “What else could I have possibly done?”

“Why didn’t you go to Hogsmeade?”

“I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

“Hm,” he began as he draped his arms over my legs. “I could have sworn I saw someone who looked like you downstairs.”

“There are hundreds of kids in this castle.” I reminded him.

“Yes but not one of them looks like you.” He retorted, leaning closer to me.

I fell silent. Potter was about five inches away from my face. It rendered me breathless.

“Your curly hair, your tall figure… that arse of yours.” He spoke softly, glancing towards my hips. “I could’ve sworn I saw you near the main entrance not too long ago.”

And then he pulled away all too soon, let out a shaky breath, and ran his hands through his hair. “Well, whoever it was, I’m thankful.”

“W — why?”

He turned back to me and grinned. “She saved me from a really awful kiss.”

I almost laughed, but then I stopped. “Hang on, to know that then you must have kissed her before hand.”

Potter shrugged.

“You kissed her?” I almost fell out of my seat. “Potter!”

“Hey, a bloke does not kiss and tell.” He told me resentfully.

I rolled my eyes. “Girls don’t kiss and tell. Are you a girl?”

In a blink of an eye, Potter was hovering dangerously close to my face again. My breath got caught in my throat, and my eyes widened. His eyes flickered to my lips, and then back to my eyes. “You know very, very well that I am not a girl.” Once more, his eyes moved to my lips, but this time, it stayed there. “Or would you like me to remind you again?” The corner of his lips twitched slightly.

He was doing this to spite me. I knew he was. He wasn’t doing this because he wanted me in any way. He was doing this to see how far I could go before I was pushed over the edge.

So I decided to push back, and see how much Potter could take before he snapped. “Well I guess you failed to leave a lasting impression on me the last time.” I replied in hoarse voice, staring back at him.

Potter smirked. “I can’t have that, now can I?” He leaned closer until I could feel his breathe against my lips.

“I suppose that the famous James Sirius Potter does have a reputation to uphold.”

“I do, don’t I?” he leaned in even closer as he pressed his right hand against my knee while his left hand slowly made its way up my thigh. His bottom lip grazed mine as he spoke. “Reputations are pretty important.”

When he didn’t make a move, I almost smirked. “So are you going to show me, or what?” I asked impatiently. I had it all played out in my head. He was going to back away, and I was going to be the one who held the triumphant smirk in the end, not Potter. He was the one that was going to feel played, he would be the first to back away, and I would be the one who would feel pretty damn good about herself when everything ends.

Except when Potter finally leaned in and forced the tense gap in between us to disintegrate against my will, I realized that this had been a one-sided game. He was being completely serious, despite his playful tone. Almost as if it was pure instincts, his hands forcibly grabbed my hips, pulling me closer, and I happily expressed my delight by winding the length of my legs around his waist. His tongue immediately grazed my bottom lip, so I complied, and my lips parted, inviting him in. His hand slipped under my shirt while he pressed my body closer to his excitedly. For a while, our tongues danced and we explored each other’s mouths.

I sighed contently and basked in this feeling. I loved this boy. At this very moment, I loved this boy with every bone in my body, and I was finally giving into it. Although the feeling of love was artificial, it felt more than natural to me. Each and every time Potter kissed me with such vigor and passion, I felt at home. Everything was so overwhelming. I couldn’t breathe.

But, to my dismay, everything ended as quick as it began. Potter pried his lips away from mine with a strangled moan, but he did not pull away. His forehead was almost touching my own — almost. His breath was heavy and erratic while his eyes were blazing with passion. What I was most curious about, however, was everything else Potter was hiding behind those unnaturally passionate eyes of his. I could tell that there was something more on his mind than he cared to show, but I knew that no matter how hard I tried, Potter would never, ever willingly break down the large wall standing in between us. Not in a million years.

At this point, I wasn’t sure what to expect. With my eyes grazing over the contours of his handsome face, I came to two conclusions. Either Potter was going to kiss me with just as much fervor as he had not more than a moment ago, or he was going to push me away, like he always did. Before I could draw a third conclusion, Potter withdrew his hands and sat up right, leaving me laying on the couch both breathless and speechless.

I watched silently as he ran his hand across his face in a frustrated manner. I was too out of it to even notice that Potter looked rather put out. “I’m going out.” He said abruptly. Without even looking back, he immediately stood up from the couch and made a straight line towards the portrait hole. If I hadn’t caught the string of curses that Potter elicited before the portrait closed completely, I would’ve continued on thinking that he stopped merely because snogging was still unfamiliar territory between us. Now, I think it’s something completely different.

James Potter

Trust Victoria to make things go from easily casual and purely playful, to something that doesn’t even make sense to the point where it surpasses the level of extremely mental. It’s difficult to comprehend how we went from talking about the difference between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor girls, to snogging on the fucking couch. I neither remembered nor cared how it all started. All I knew, was that I had to get out of that common room. I had to get away from Victoria.

I was sinking. I wasn’t floundering anymore. I was just fucking, downright sinking into the bottom of the deepest pile of shit in the entire world, and it was all because of Victoria. No. That’s a lie. It was all because of Desmond. Desmond and his bloody impulse of shooting people with arrows.

And somehow, everything always manages to end up revolving around Victoria. My world does not revolve around some fucking fickle, fickle girl who I don’t even give a damn about. Who the fuck was she to get me so worked up like this?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t handle it.

The fighting, the insults, the teasing, the flirting, the touching, the staring, the snogging, the jealousy, the insinuations, the guilt. It was all too much, and none of it was my responsibility.

I didn’t want this. It was too unfamiliar. Giving into Victoria was like blindly walking through a troll infested forest and expecting not to get squashed. Or flying through a brutal Quidditch match with no skill in flying what’s so ever. It was nerve-wracking, dangerous, and completely insane.

It took me a while to finally admit to myself that I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of it. For a while, I thought that we would be able to play a game. I thought that it would be okay to snog her, just as long as we didn’t grow too attatched to one another (fake arrow not included). I thought that we could go on hating each other without a problem. She seemed to enjoy it, and I certainly have been enjoying myself. But lately, everything felt more than just a simple game.

What Victoria wanted was a relationship. She wanted a boyfriend. She wanted me to love her back.

But I had nothing to offer her.

Once I found myself at a safe distance away from the common room, I regrettably began to notice my unquenched hunger for a good fuck. Victoria had started something that she couldn’t finish, and once again, I had to clean up after her mess.

The students weren’t back from Hogsmeade yet, which left the castle clear of most third-seventh year students. I growled to myself, frustrated. My eyes began scanning for possible victims — females, to be precise. “Fuck, why isn’t there anyone around?” I needed to take my mind off things. I needed to stop thinking about the shit hole that I am currently burying myself in. I need a taste of my old life — the life I had before Victoria fell in love with me and ruined it all. I needed to feel someone else.

I reckon it was my silly way of proving that I didn’t need her. That I didn’t want her. All I wanted to do was make sure that I was still capable of enjoying anything that wasn’t her.

As I neared the library, it was as if Merlin answered my prayers. There she was. Joy Lovegood, walking right towards me. She was a seventh year Hufflepuff. She looked pure and innocent on the outside, but exteriors were deceptive, and, after sharing a long night’s tousle a couple of months back, I had earned the pleasure of learning all about Lovegood’s deceptive exterior. Although, having a good taste of her clingy and eager personality, she was truthfully not my first choice, she would have to suffice considering the short notice. It was purely physical, anyway. Personality didn’t matter when it came down to this.

“Joy,” I greeted her gladly, almost sound relieved.

Joy charmingly smiled back at me. “James Potter.. Fancy seeing you here.” She replied. “Why aren’t you at Hogsmeade?”

I took a deep breath and composed myself. I willingly pushed all thoughts of Victoria out of my mind and turned on the James Potter charm. Somehow, with great skill and (thankfully I was blessed with enough of this) allure, I somehow managed to back her against the wall. She looked tempted as she waited for my next move. I almost smirked, despite myself. She was practically putty in my hands. “Prior engagements.” I drawled, with a shrug. “Besides, I think I’ve found something else that sparks my interest much more than Hogsmeade.” Joy smiled bashfully, and I involuntarily smirked at her shyness. What was it with shy girls that made them so.. cute? She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as I watched with curiosity as a pink flush spread through her cheeks.

Fortuitously, my smirked widened. I almost chuckled at myself with pride. I still had it.

It didn’t take long before Joy found herself in an empty classroom, pinned between my body and the stone wall behind her. About five minutes of reckless flirting, and another five of a heated snog session was all it took to get her on her knees, begging for more.

Minutes passed until I lost track of time. Foreplay had been longer than I would have liked, and the pleasure wasn’t exactly satisfying. In short, it was dull. Despite my wishes, she wasn’t enough to keep the haunting thoughts in my mind at bay. She was gorgeous, and she knew how to take a hold of situations, which was something I always admired about her. Yet, there was something I yearned for that she could not give. I reckoned it was the lack of passion that put me in a rut. All she was interested in was pleasure for herself, without a single thought for her partner. But I supposed the term ‘meaningless sex’ explained it all.

She was different from Victoria. She was playful, and she loved to tease. She knew how take, as well as how to reciprocate. She was more than passionate, and the best thing of all, she knew how to get under my skin without even an ounce of effort.


Here she comes, running back into my fucking mind, making me compare her to my most recent fuck, and making me feel more guilty than ever.

The moment it was over, I roughly pushed Joy away and picked up my clothes from the ground. My disappointment, along with Victoria plaguing my thoughts put me in a bad mood. Lovegood, on the other had, was most likely smiling. I didn’t even have to look at her to know that she was smiling as she searched for hers. How couldn’t she smile? I always left them smiling.

“Here’s your tie.” I picked up a yellow and black striped tie from the ground and threw it in her direction without another look.

“You could be a little more grateful.” Joy snapped irritably.

I turned around and noticed that I had thrown the tie in her face. “Perhaps you should be the grateful one, Lovegood.” I muttered. Without another word, I threw the door of the classroom open, not bothering to properly straighten myself out.

What I saw next made my breath hitch in my throat. I swear, the guilt was going to eat me alive.

A head of curly blonde hair immediately whipped around at the sound of the door opening. During that short, brief hair flip, I found myself praying to Merlin that who ever it was standing before me, it was anyone but Victoria. Regardless, a part of me already knew that it was her. I stopped in my tracks, my hand still attatched to the brass door knob. My eyes widened, and I’m pretty sure that my heart rate sped up a significant amount, but I wasn’t paying any attention to my bodily reactions. That was the last thing on my mind. What I was paying attention to, however, was the surprised expression printed on the contours of Victoria’s face.

“Potter.” She breathed.

I said nothing for a few moments. It wasn’t until Joy decided to appear behind me, looking as disheveled as ever, when I decided to speak. “W — what are you doing here, Vic?” I asked her, unsure if I should start acting sorry now, or later. My first instinct was to ignore her, and get on my way. Although, once I noticed the level of emotions portrayed on the surface of Victoria’s beautiful face, I couldn’t bring myself to treat her the way I treated all the other girls.

Victoria ignored me. Instead, her eyes danced from Joy, to me, and then back to Joy. For a small fragment of a second, a look of hurt flashed through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by fiery anger that worried even me. He pursed her lips in attempt to compose herself and looked away until she realized that she had been holding something this entire time.

Looking back at me, she held up a thick piece of parchment in her right hand. As her eyes flickered towards Joy, she held her wand to the surface and muttered a charm I could not understand. After one last look — a look that began eating at me from the inside out — she threw the parchment at my chest and it fell to the floor, forgotten. Without a single word on her part, she then turned around and walked back down the corridor she came from.

“What was that about?” Joy asked curiously, peering over my shoulder to see what Victoria had thrown in my direction..

I ignored her, and bent down to pick up the familiar piece of parchment. Once it was finally in my hands, I scanned it in disbelief. The pieces began to fall together. The sudden question of whether or not I was able to get into Filch’s office, the sudden date with a Slytherin, skipping a trip to Hogsmeade — it all fit. Before I could even think about how badly this gesture tugged at my heartstrings, I lifted my gaze and frantically searched the corridor for any trace of Victoria.

She was already gone.

A/N: Don't kill me please! they're having issues again, and i know all you guys want is to see them get together! it's only a matter of time ;)

please review! tell me what you guys think :) thoughts, comments, questions?


Chapter 16: Broken Hearts and Snot-Nosed Best Friends
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Sixteen

James Potter

I didn’t realize what I was doing until my chest suddenly constricted. I was surprised when I became conscious that I was running. I bolted down the corridor, leaving Joy Lovegood behind. My feet moved on its own accord, and Merlin, did I run fast.

The only thing my mind could think of was apologizing to Victoria. In that short moment, I knew I fucked up. I knew that it was my fault. I was being a prat, a wanker, a git-faced, dumbarse. I shouldn’t have ran away from Victoria, and right into Joy’s open arms. I should’ve stopped being selfish.

And then it all stopped.

My feet slowed down, finally giving me the chance to catch my own breath, the moment I completely understood what I was doing.

I was running after Victoria, on my way to apologize. I was just about to apologize for something that I had no reason to be sorry for.

I stopped running, and laughed bitterly to myself. My eyes were glued on Victoria’s retreating figure. She was halfway down the end of the corridor, and the distance between us was quickly increasing.

“Where are you running off to?”

The voice was familiar. It caused uneasiness to settle in the pit of my stomach. It made me nervous and anxious, and I was too afraid to turn around. I had a good idea who it might have been, but turning around would verify my predictions, and if I was right, there’s a high chance that I will end up falling into an endless pit of my own pile of shit.

“Are you ignoring me James?”

I gulped, catching my breath. “Amelie.” Out of pure curiosity (yes, just curiosity), my head turned down the corridor in search for Victoria.

A change in scenery called for a double take. There was someone else standing with Victoria. Was that…

I squinted my eyes towards the two distant figures.

Was that — no — what the fuck? Was it Willow?

They were… they were hugging. How did Willow suddenly appear within a bloody second?

I growled unintentionally and bitterly focused my attention on Amelie. At that moment, the smile on her gorgeous face went by unnoticed. My mind was too preoccupied to pay attention to the details.

“Hello, James. Miss me, did you?”

“No.” I answered through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

As she circled to face me, she pouted. Her tall, blonde frame pressed itself closer to my right side. I gulped, before glancing towards Victoria, who still seemed to be enveloped in a pair of lanky arms. I turned back towards Amelie before she could notice where the majority of my attention was directed.

“You know, you must be the one boy who hasn’t tailed me around the castle, begging for a minute of my time.” She smirked arrogantly, causing me to roll my eyes.

Amelie always had an ego. Dare I say, it might have been even bigger than Desmond’s and mine combined.

“Trust me, I’ve spent enough time on you.”

“Tsk, tsk,” she clicked her tongue and leaned her face closer to mine.

I resisted the urge to glance at Victoria.

A part of me wanted to take Amelie right there, and right at that moment, but another part of me was willing to deny her. She was too arrogant for my taste, and for once, I wanted her to feel the cold sting of rejection. On the other hand, there was the matter of her body; her firm, long, soft body, that was currently pressed up against mine. I silently cursed Joy for leaving me so bloody unsatisfied.

A cute, playful smile crept onto her lips, and she slowly slithered her arms around my neck. “What do you say, James?” she licked her lips slowly. Her soft, pink, plump lips. She fucking licked them.

Nervously, I finally gave into the urge to sneak a peek at Victoria and the idiot that was gripping onto her like a koala bear. They were still attached.

How can a hug — or whatever the hell that was — last for so bloody long? I would be able to understand if it was a snog, but… they were hugging. Just hugging.

Amelie’s hands raking down my stomach brought me back down to earth. I turned my head down, and looked at her. She had a coy look on her face. “Want to play with me?” Her hands were traveling all over my body. I shut my eyes tightly. Fictitious images of Victoria and Willow suddenly sprang into my mind. “We’ll have a lot of fun.” Amelie continued.

Without warning, I felt the wet, warm surface of her tongue run itself along the outer edges of my earlobe.

That was when I lost all sense of control, dropped anything and everything in my hands, leaving them on the ground, forgotten, and attacked Amelie with everything I had.

I roughly shoved her against the wall, and she immediately wound her long legs around my hips. Her lips pressed tighter against mine, and she released a series of her moan while she continuously grinded herself against me.

As intoxicating and arousing as Amelie’s lips and body was, Victoria lingered in my mind. I growled in a frustrated manner, a low rumble in my throat, and Amelie took this as encouragement. She began pushing my clothes off before clawing at my skin.

I allowed her, while a part of me was hoping — praying — that Victoria stuck around long enough to watch.


“Tell me something, mate, and don’t bother beating around the bush this time.” Desmond’s voice almost startled me out of my shoes. I didn’t even hear the shower turn off. “Do you like Victoria?”

“W — what?” I sputtered, taken aback by his sudden question. “Where is this coming from, Des?”

“Showers are a place of deep thinking.” He replied simply. “Now answer me.”

“No.” I answered firmly. “I don’t like her, so stop nagging me. You’re worse than my bloody mother.” I glowered.

He nodded, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. “It’s just that… you pay way too much attention to her for someone who doesn’t fancy her.”

“Are you telling me that I fancy your best friend?” I asked flatly. “Please, you’re going to make me die from laughter.”

“No.” he said with a shrug as he crossed the room and approached his dresser. “It was just an observation. There’s nothing wrong with observing.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve taken a liking to living vicariously, haven’t you? These days, you observe more than necessary. The habits of a Cupid… You need to get yourself a girl, mate.”

“I just like to keep an eye on Victoria.” He told me. “And these days, whatever concerns Victoria, concerns you.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” I spoke exasperatedly, tired of having the same conversations over and over again, even though I knew that he was only asking me because he harbored an everlasting hope that someday, my answer would change. “My answer won’t change Desmond.” I told him, a little hesitant to speak.

He scoffed, his back facing me. “I hardly think that’s true.”

I gaped at him. “What, so you actually think I fancy her? You think that I downright fancy her.”

“That’s right.” He answered, turning around. “I think you’ve always been attracted to Victoria, but you’ve never been brave enough to admit it.”

“Why on earth would I be too cowardly to admit something like that?”

“I reckon it always had something to do with how much she hates — sorry, hated you. There’s a very thin line between love and hate.”

I turned away from him. “Then we’re both lucky that Victoria and I are not anywhere near that thin line.”

“Then what are you doing burning a hole in the middle of our dorm with all your pacing?” Des asked, raising his eyebrows quizzically. “What happened tonight?”

“Nothing.” I answered with a scowl as the guilt crept back into my chest.

“Would you rather I ask Vicky?” he practically threatened as he folded his arms across his chest.

I scowled again and glared at him. “I.. I screwed…” my shoulders slumped, defeated. “I screwed around with Joy Lovegood today.”

Desmond wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Joy Lovegood, really?” he asked curiously. “She’s.. I’ve had my taste of her, and she’s a bit too…”

“Selfish? Yeah, I know. But I was desperate and three fourths of the castle went to Hogsmeade.”

“Vicky found out?”

“She was outside the classroom when we left.”

“… You know that she went through hell just to get your map back, right?”

“Yes, thank you Desmond, for the brand new information.” In that instant, an unknown weight pressed heavily against my chest, as if to remind me how guilty I should be feeling at that moment. But I wasn’t guilty. I was angry. I was angry that I was too much of an imbecile, and ran after the little bugger, only to watch her run into Willow’s fucking arms. I was fucking furious, and Desmond was not helping alleviate my rage.

I felt like an insufferable idiot for feeling so guilty for absolutely no reason at all.

Shagging girls shouldn’t be something to feel guilty about. It should be something men take pride in. Not something they try to hide.

At least I ran after her. I ran after her. I tried to fix it — I tried to make her feel better. Point was, I tried. I put in effort. But I reckon there are just some things that people cannot change. My hands were tied. Whatever kind of pain she felt tonight, it was on her. Not me.

— Except the part where you intentionally wanted to fuck her over by shagging your ex-girlfriend right in front of her.

Yet I still felt as guilty as a pile of garbage sitting in the middle of a spotless room.

Merlin, I felt like a fucking imbecile.

I couldn’t even think straight. It literally felt impossible to form coherent thoughts and sentences.

I was clouded, and deranged — the only explanations that would justify why I even subconsciously thought about running after her in order to apologize for something that wasn’t even worth an apology. And not to mention, shag my ex senseless in the middle of a school corridor.

“It wasn’t just Joy.” I added quietly.

Desmond turned his attention back to me, now entirely interested. “Not just joy?”

“Amelie was there, and well…”

“Merlin, mate, I thought you were done with her.”

“I was — I am.”

He scoffed. “Obviously not.”

“It’s not that easy, Des, okay?” I snapped irritably. “Imagine Layla came prancing down the hall wearing practically nothing —”

“She was wearing nothing?” he arched an eyebrow.

“No,” I waved my hands in the air to motion ‘whatever’. “You know how she barely covers up anything… But that’s besides the point! Imagine Layla came prancing around you wearing practically nothing, and throwing herself at your feet, begging to be fucked mercilessly. Would you be able to decline?”

“Of course I would.” He crossed his arm over his chest, and I scoffed.

“Sure, you could. Would you like to test that sometime soon?”

He cleared his throat while he looked away, looking anywhere but at my knowing gaze. The tables have now turned. Momentarily. I smirked. I could tell he was uncomfortable with the scenario I had placed on the table. “Okay, point taken. Amelie is irresistible. We all know it. Did she see?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. She was with Willow.”

He made a face. “That Hufflepuff dumbarse?”

I nodded.

“Are you seriously worried about Willow? Mate, even I don’t think Willow stands a chance.”

“I’m not worried about Willow.” I replied exasperatedly. “You asked me if she saw, and I explained why she most likely did not.”

Desmond held up his hands defensively. “I was just wondering. You’re way too defensive about this whole thing.”

I sighed, frustrated.

“I suppose you feel guilty?” he continued, crossing the room, searching for something.

I fell silent for a moment as I sorted through my thoughts. Finally, I answered, “I do. I mean, I guess I do. If this is what guilt feels like, then sure — yes I do feel guilty.”

“If you don’t fancy her, then why are you so concerned?” he pulled a crisp, baby blue shirt over his shoulders and began buttoning it. “You’ve been fucking girls all your life, and as far as I know, Victoria has never been a problem.”

“I don’t fancy her.” I growled impatiently. “I never had and I never fucking will. So drop it.”

“Then why —”

“I feel guilty, alright? Haven’t I said that already?” I snapped. “You’ve done well over the years making sure that I feel this way whenever that girl gets hurt. I don’t know how you did it, but it fucking worked. I can’t do a single thing without worrying that her temper will get the best of her, or that she’ll burst into a fit of tears, because I’m the one who’s going to have to fix everything in the end.”

Desmond laughed bitterly. “You’re blaming me for making you feel this way towards her? James, all I ever asked you to do was look after her when I’m not around. I asked you because I trusted you, and I know that you’re too loyal to decline. I never asked you because I actually thought that deep inside, you harbored some sort of hidden desire for her.”

I gave him a confused look. “Bottom line, I don’t fancy her. Don’t ever expect me to.”

“You get jealous, don’t you.” He smirked knowingly. I wanted to knock that blasted smirk off his arrogant face. “Not possessive, the way you do with Lily, Rose or Dominique, but jealous the way you did with —“

“There’s no reason to bring her into this.” I snapped sourly, interrupting him in mid sentence. “I don’t get jealous.” I growled indignantly. “I never get jealous.”

He chuckled in response. “That’s the only answer I need.”

“Stop it!” I cried, frustrated. “Stop trying to plant this idea into my head. Stop trying to make me fancy her.”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything.” Desmond said flatly, not a trace of humor on his face.

“Fine.” I huffed. “I’ll admit, I was attracted to her. I am attracted to her. Since we were thirteen I’ve been attracted to her, but who hasn’t? There were several instances when Tyler wanted to get into her pants in our fourth year, and I’m sure that you understand why. You’d have to be a poof not to.”

I could tell that he was fighting a smirk that was dying to break free on the surface of his face. “But that’s it.” I said firmly, drawing the line there. “So this little plan you’ve got going on here, has got to stop.”

“What plan..”

“Don’t play coy!” I shouted, louder than I had initially intended. “I know what you’re doing.”

Desmond stared at me for a good minute or so before he let out a deep breath. “You’ve gone bonkers, mate.” He remarked, shaking his head hopelessly. “Absolutely, and completely bonkers.” He walked around his bed to grab his shoes when we heard a knock on the door. “Tell me, is that Victoria’s doing, or what?” he teased as he walked towards the door. I almost threw my trunk at him out of pure rage.

He opened the door, and Dominique poked her head through the crack. “You two are decent, right?”

“No, James is currently stark naked, jumping on his bed, and I’m actually thinking about joining him.” Desmond immediately replied.

“Lovely.” Dom barged right in and plopped down on the foot of my bed. “I have business with you two.” She began. “Actually, I have business with just you.” She turned to me with a serious expression on her face. “Desmond, you can stay and just listen.”

Why do I have a feeling that it had something to do with Vic —

“It’s about Victoria.”

Of course it’s about Victoria. Everything is about Victoria.

“What about her?” I growled.

She glanced at the clock nailed to our wall and sighed. “It’s almost midnight.”

“So?” I asked.

“She’s not back yet.” Dom informed me. “Did you do something? She only ever stays out when she’s upset.”

“Or when she decides to fall off the face of the fucking planet just to read in the bloody Astronomy Tower.”

“I checked the Astronomy Tower. Actually, Layla did. She’s not there.” Dominique told me.

“I don’t see why this concerns me.” I said through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, Dominique glared at me. “Don’t be a fucking twat, James Potter.” She snapped. “Don’t sit here and pretend that you’re not fucking worried about her, when in truth, you are. She’s our friend, and she’s fucking missing. I can’t find her anywhere, and I even sent Tyler down to the kitchens before I came up here to talk to the two of you. Don’t sit there and pretend that you don’t give a shit becau —”

“I don’t give a shit, Dominique. I’m tired of all of you forcing me to care about her, when I really don’t.”

Dom’s chest was heaving with anger. “I never pitied Victoria and her situation, until now.” She said. “But now I see what she has to deal with. A stubborn prick whose head is too large for his own fucking body. Fuck you, James. She’s right to want nothing to do with you.”

Without another word, Dominique stomped out of our dormitory and slammed the door behind her.

“If you’re about to open your mouth right now and tell me that she’s right,” I said to Desmond, keeping my eyes glued to the ground. “Don’t.”

Wordlessly, he sighed, turned, and strode to his bed leisurely. He didn’t even have to say a word for me to know what he was thinking.

I was an asshole.

I already knew it.

I’m James Potter, after all.

“Fuck it.” I grabbed my coat, pulled on my shoes and grabbed the hidden pack of cigarettes in between my mattress. In silence, I exited the room and ran for the Astronomy Tower.

Victoria Rose

“I really should get going.”

After my encounter with Potter and his new toy, I involuntarily found myself running straight into Austin’s waiting arms, as if he already knew what had happened. At first, every bone in my body was telling me to shove him away and keep running until I found one of my friends. His shoulder was lanky, and his arms were stiff. Nothing about his embrace was comforting at all.

Just as I was about to muster all the strength I had left, Austin’s arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders, holding me in place as he whispered in my ear “Potters watching.”

Those two words was all it took for me to grit my teeth and burry my head deeper into his chest. I wasn’t aware that Potter came after me, and to be honest, at this point, I didn’t care. I ignored the fluttering feeling in my heart and allowed myself to drown in my hatred for him. I accepted Austin’s embrace, which was my indirect way of saying ‘Fuck you Potter, I don’t need you.’

Although, as Austin slowly led us back to what looked like the Hufflepuff Common Room, I couldn’t help but wish that it was Desmond’s shoulder I was leaning on.

“What time is it?” I asked sleepily.

After a long episode of crying, I accidentally fell asleep on the comfortable couch of the Hufflepuff Common Room, while propped up on Austin’s shoulder. When I finally peeled my eyes open, a load of emotions swept me up like a tornado, unwilling to let me go. I immediately jumped away from him and my bum landed on the opposite side of the couch. He had been leisurely flipping through a Quidditch magazine with his feet propped up on the table.

For one thing, I felt ashamed. I felt ashamed for crying over a boy, and ashamed for looking weak in front of others. I hadn’t cried in front of anyone since I was a child, and all in one night, I ended up shedding tears in front of Potter and Austin.

Furthermore, I was still angry. Furious, in fact. My anger for Potter refused to ebb away. It was a stain on the surface of my life.

Lastly, I was confused. Confused as to why Austin seemed to be waiting for me at the end of the corridor, with his arms wide open, as if he knew what to be expecting. His behavior confused me even more. He had shown a great deal of interest the past two years, but never has he acted on it until this year.

“It’s about a quarter to one.” He drawled.

“What?!” I exclaimed, jumping up from my seat. “W — why didn’t you wake me?” I asked as I frantically began searching for my cloak. “Merlin, Dom and Layla are going to kill me! And worse.. if they told Desmond.. Merlin, fuck.”

Austin stood up as well, and stepped forward to place his hands on my shoulders. I suppose it was a ridiculously failed attempt to soothe me. “Relax.” He said in a deep voice, trying to meet my gaze, but I looked away. “You’re a big girl, they shouldn’t worry about you so much.”

“You don’t understand…” I began, slowly pushing his hands away. “Desmond.. he’s.. oddly over protective. It’s .. it’s a long story. If Dom and Layla went to P…” I trailed off, suddenly remembering that the map was supposed to be a secret. “Potter and Desmond to see if I was with them, they’re going to — well Desmond will throw a fit.” I finally found my cloak buried underneath the throw pillow that was sitting on the armchair. “I really must go.” I said to him.

“So he’s back to Potter now, huh?” Austin asked, regarding Potter for the first time since he picked me up and pulled me back to pieces. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“We just… we had a fight.” I answered, making my way to the exit. “Thank you, so much for tonight, Austin. I.. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry that I was such a mess.”

Austin smiled warmly and shook his head as he pushed the door open. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m glad I could help.”

Before I could turn and take my leave, Austin did something that shocked the poop out of me. He stepped over the entrance of his common room, swept down and pushed his lips against my cheek.

I gasped sharply, and my body stiffened. Merlin, it was such a stupid reaction, but I couldn’t help it. In truth, it was the first time a boy offered such an affectionate gesture. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends and dates, and not once did they deliberately give up their chance to skip to the snogging and fucking, and actually start at the very beginning.

I was so… touched that I didn’t have the heart to tell him off.

“Good night, Victoria.” He smiled, and stepped back inside the common room.

I smiled as well, a little bit unsure of myself. “Good night, Austin.”

I practically bolted for the seventh floor. It was a bitch, because the Hufflepuff Common Rooms were all the way in the basement of the castle. By the time I reached the fifth floor, my thighs burned from running up the stairs, and my lungs felt like some reached through my flesh and deliberately squeezed them until I could no longer breathe.

Just as I took the third step up the staircase leading to the sixth floor, a voice broke the eerie silence, and I cursed under my breath. It was Nargus, completing his nightly rounds. Honestly, is this bloke fucking nocturnal, or is he just capable of functioning without sleep?

As quick as my legs could take me, I jumped down the last two steps and sprinted down the next corridor, ignoring the lack of light. I was in no mood to face Nargus. I knew I didn’t have the clever, suave exterior that Desmond, Potter, and Tyler acquired over their last six years of getting into trouble, which would mean more detentions — than staying out after curfew is actually worth — for me.

Once my chest could no longer take any more running, I abruptly skidded to a halt and slumped against the wall. I had no idea where I was. Just as I noticed my surroundings (it was almost fucking pitch black), horrific thoughts jumped into my head, and fear spread through my chest. I was suddenly aware that the corridor was empty. I was only left with these rude paintings, and my rancid thoughts.

I began flittering through my pockets in search for my wand.

I cursed much too loudly when I realized that it was not in my possession. “Fuck. Merlin’s fucking beard.” I was the biggest fail in witch’s history. I lost my bloody wand.

Defeated and hopeless, I dropped my head back against the wall, and let out a heavy sigh.

The sound of loud, approaching footsteps shook my from my trance and a mixture of anxiety and fear crept up into the pit of my stomach. It couldn’t be Nargus; the footsteps were too constant, too fast. It sounded like running, or a fast paced skipping. It was a student. Perhaps the bitchy Head Girl. Hopefully it was neither a prefect, nor a Head. Either way, I found myself glad that I was lucky enough to have encountered someone.

I suddenly didn’t feel so alone.

As the figure approached, the sandy brown hair began looking oddly familiar. “Desmond.” I breathed in surprised.

He looked frantic, almost shaken. The absence of his immediate rage once his eyes landed on me caused my suspicions to heighten to the point where my eyes narrowed in his direction. “Victoria.” He breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell that he was not relieved because he was worried about me. “Vicky, thank Merlin, you have to come with me.”

Before he grabbed my hand in his, I quickly managed to ask, “Des, what’s wrong?”

“Just please, follow.” He begged as he quickened his pace. It was difficult to keep up with him. His long legs covered a longer distance than my shorter ones, and my lungs were not as trained as his. By the time we slowed down, I felt beads of sweat dripping down my neck as my chest tightened. “We’re almost there.” He reassured me, urging me to continue. “We didn’t know what to do,” he explained, glancing back in my direction. “She’s… she’s bad, Vic. She won’t stop screaming, and I know she has a right to, but Merlin, we had to castle silencing charms to make sure that she wasn’t heard. She won’t budge. James is scared that she’s going to claw his face off if he tries to carry her away.”

“Wha… who are you talking about?” I asked fearfully. One of them was hurt… Layla and Dominique, the two girls that made up my life — one of them was hurt. “Desmond, who?”

The scene before me explained it all. I reckoned we came to a halt before the silencing barrier, because a deafening silence filled my ears, even though I knew my ears should have been suffering.

“How long has she been like this?” I drawled slowly, trying to take it all in.

“About ten minutes? We tried to calm her down, but she wouldn’t listen.. James finally got fed up and sent me to get either you or Layla.”

There they were, Tyler practically on his knee’s (not literally), with Rhiannon standing behind him, looking… suspiciously pleased. Potter, who did not looked pleased, was standing before them, restraining a very livid, Dominique Weasley. She looked like a straight, utter, downright mess. Her cheeks were tearstained and smudged with black mascara. Her curly, strawberry blonde hair had grown wild due to her thrashing, and both her skirt and blouse had hiked up in several areas.

It was heartbreaking to see my best friend, my perfect, pristine, best friend, fall into a mess.

Silently, I took a step forward, and almost immediately, screams bounced against the walls and the barrier, heightening the effects. It blared through my ears and threatened to shatter my eardrums. I could barely make sense of what Dominique was saying. It was mixed with cries and sobs as a river of tears tumbled down her cheeks.

Upon my arrival, Potter turned, noticing my presence. Without saying a word to me, he turned back to Dominique and timidly lowered his lips to her ear, whispering.

I swallowed loudly, and took another hesitant step forward. “Dom,” I called. “Dom,” I repeated.

She slowly turned towards me, and the screams immediately stopped. “Vicky,” she said with a strangled sob.

Dropping the timidities, I quickly approached Dominique until I was standing by her side. “Dom, what happened?” I asked, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder.

She sneered in my direction before whipping her head back to face Tyler. “It’s his fault!” she cried loudly, pointing a finger in his direction. “His fault! That asshole!”

I glanced at Tyler as he flinched at her words. “What… what did you do?”

He looked down, shamefaced.

Dominique was practically killing him with her gaze when I turned my attention back to her. “He fucked her.” She said in a low voice. “I bet he’s been fucking her all along!”

“No!” Tyler exclaimed, for the first time since my arrival, indignantly.

“Don’t lie to me!” she shrieked, jumping for his throat, but Potter held her back with remarkable strength. “Don’t you dare, fucking lie to me you insufferable prick!”

I turned away from Dominique and completely faced Tyler. I had my suspicious when I arrived, but he confirmed it. The guilt plastered on his face confirmed it all. I couldn’t believe it. “Tyler…” I said with disappointment. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Vic..” was all he could say.

“You’re sorry?” Dominique continued shrieking. I could tell that she was still crying. Her voice turned scratchy, and every once in a while, she would sniffle. “You’re fucking sorry? You’re unbelievable Tyler. You’re so fucking unbelievable. You’re selfish, and you’re a fucking pig. What the fuck do you think is going to happen to Fred when he finds out you’ve been fucking your girlfriend.”

I gasped at the thought of Freddie. For the second time that night, my eyes traveled over to Rhiannon. Her eyes were glued to her feet, yet no sign of remorse could be seen on her face.

“It was only once!” Tyler argued. “One time! And it was a mistake!”

At the mention of ‘mistake’, Rhiannon’s head immediately snapped up. “A mistake?” she spat, suddenly glaring at Tyler. “I was a fucking mistake?”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Dominique sneered with pure distaste. Her lips immediately curled into a scowl. “I knew you were bad news from the start. I warned Freddie about you. You were just too perfect to be true, and I was right. You’re a slut, who only cares about herself.”

“You don’t know anything, Dominique. You’re a dumb, blonde bitch, and you don’t know anything. You should thank Merlin that you were born beautiful, or else no one would take a second look at you.”

At that, a different kind of anger fired up in her stomach, and I watched as she furiously struggled against Potters’ grasp. She put up a fight this time, scratching at his arms, begging him to let her go. I could see the muscles in Potters’ forearms flexing, and I immediately knew that Rhiannon had just unleashed a newfound anger in Dominique. She cried, screamed and struggled like no other. I was surprised that Potter managed to keep her away.

“Dom,” I said loudly, in attempts to calm her down. “Dom, please, calm down.”

“Calm down?” she shrieked with anger. “Calm down? This fucking slut is asking for it!”

Slightly angry, I turned to Rhiannon, my hair whipping around my face. “I think you better leave.”

Unexpectedly, she smirked. “Fickle Dominique can’t handle the heat.”

“Leave.” I growled menacingly. Her presence was useless. She was only aggravating the situation, and not to mention, she was pissing me off.

Her eyes shifted over to me, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d like to see how Queen Bee ends up without her little followers protecting her.”

“Fuck, Rhiannon, would you just leave?” Tyler snapped, turning back to her.

Taken aback, Rhiannon jumped slightly at Tyler’s abrupt anger. “Leave.” He repeated. “You’re not making this situation any better.”

“We’re not done talking.” She warned him, before she twirled around and quickly walked away.

“Dom, please, calm down…” Potter begged, struggling to keep his arms around her.

“You asshole.” She laughed bitterly, throwing her head back slightly. It was strange how Dominique managed to look so beautiful when she was this broken. “It’s actually hilarious, because I actually started to feel something for you. And you know what, it’s all shot to hell now!”

“Tyler, I think you’d better go back to the common room first.” Desmond said stiffly, approaching me.

“But —”

“Go.” Potter agreed.

“No!” Dominique shrieked while Tyler slowly turned to walk away. “I’m not finished with you yet, you bloody prat. Get back here!”

“Dom please, let him go.” I practically begged with pleading eyes.

“Tyler, just leave!” Desmond barked when Tyler didn’t move an inch after Dom’s outburst. “Go!”

“No!” she continued shouting. “Ugh!” She groaned. “Why the fuck are you three always protecting him? He deserves a good beating. Do you not understand what he did?” she demanded.

“Of course we understa —”

“Oh, who am I kidding.” She scoffed dryly while she rolled her eyes. “You’re riding the same fucking broom as him, aren’t you? Shot by an arrow and forced to love my cousin. I bet when he’s fallen for you, you’ll turn right around and fuck some other man. I suppose that’s where you were tonight, huh? Out with some other bloke while these to hear scour the castle searching for you?”

“What are you talking about…”

She laughed bitterly again. “I thought you were my friend, Victoria.”

“I am your friend!” I cried indignantly. I couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“Then shut the fuck up and start acting like it! Stop protecting Tyler, and stop fucking around with my cousin!” she screeched in a high-pitched voice.

“Dominique.” Potter warned, his hands slowly unwinding from her waist. “That’s enough.”

“You!” she wheeled around and turned to Potter while pointing an accusing finger. “You’re also protecting that weasel. You should have just fucking let me go! I’m your cousin, James! I thought I would at least come first before some bloke who can’t even stay faithful!”

“Hey Dom —” Lastly, she wheeled around to face Desmond.

“This is all your fault.” She spat. “You forced Tyler to fall in love with me, now look what happened. This is all your fucking fault. Ever since I found out you were a Cupid — no, ever since we all found out you were a Cupid, our lives have been nothing but a fucking mess. Look at James. He’s stuck looking after this child over here,” I gaped at her indignantly. “while you’re out doing your business. And Victoria! She’s a fucking mess all because you forced her to fall in love with James. There’s a reason why Cupids are extinct.” She glared at him with an intense look of hatred, causing a sudden surge of protectiveness to come over me. “Maybe fate decided that they dealt with relationships better than a magical fucking arrow coming from a dumb fuck angel.”

Before Desmond could utter another word, I stepped in front of him with a newfound anger rising in my chest. “Get a hold of yourself, and stop talking out your frustration on other people. We’re here, in the middle of the fucking night because we care about you, not because we’re trying to take sides and protect Tyler. Stop being an ungrateful, self-centered bitch, and stop taking it out —”

I wasn’t able to finish my sentence, because before I knew it, Dominique raised her right hand and slapped the snot right out of me.

“Dom!” Potter scolded loudly, reaching out to restrain her once more. I watched them through the curtain of my hair. Dom was sneering in my direction, and Potter, with an angry expression, held her back once more.

Desmond’s hands were immediately on my shoulder, soothing me and comforting me in any way possible. I, however, was beyond the grounds of possible comfort. My best friend had just slapped me across the face with impressive strength. My head whipped to the side, and I stumbled slightly. Heat rushed through my left cheek, filling my face, and specifically pooling around my eyes. I knew I was about to cry. Tears were brimming my eyes, and it would only take a quick blink for them to fall over the edge. It was funny, how a simple blink could expose internal weakness.

The worst part was, all I could think about at that moment was approaching Dominique, hoping that if I tried enough, she would eventually allow everything to fall apart into my waiting arms. I was willing to take each and every blow until she decided that she’s had enough. I loved her. She was like my sister. She was like a part of myself that I could not detach from, no matter how hard I tried.

But there was a voice inside my head that reminded me, “You don’t deserve this,”

“Vic, let’s go.” Desmond had wrapped his arm around my shoulders and began leading me away. “Let’s get back to the common room before someone finds us. James will take Dominique back.”

If it weren’t for the pleading look that suddenly appeared on Potters’ face, I would not have moved an inch.

Desmond took my hand, and began leading me away from a vicious, shrieking Dominique. As I listened to her cries, I could feel my own heart breaking in the restraints of my chest.

Sensing my uneasiness, Desmond wrapped his arm around my shoulders, silently permitting the tears to cascade down my tears, and straight onto his shoulders. For the second time that night, I let them.

James Potter

After dropping Dominique off at her dormitory, and making sure that Victoria was no where within twenty feet from her, I grabbed the map — the map that I could no longer look at without feeling guilty — and stalked right out of the portrait hole, ignoring the protests from the Fat Lady.

I didn’t give a shit if it’s bloody one thirty in the morning.

I was going to find Tyler, and I was going to ram my fist into his face.

It had been a brutal night. Dominique fell into a fit of violent thrashing and shrieks the moment she realized who were fornicating behind the closed door of the broom closet. I had never seen her so devastated. Not even when her pet rabbit died when she turned six.

It didn’t take long to find Tyler. He left the castle, and was sitting in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. There was a lit cigarette in between his fingers, and every once in a while, he would take a long, and seemingly satisfying, drag.

The minute I entered the pitch, I stowed the map away and bolted towards the wanker. I tackled him to the ground, and my fist immediately pulled back, only to be pushed into his face.

Tyler didn’t protest.

I didn’t expect him to.

I reckon the guilt got to him before I did.

Tyler was a lot of things. He was a man-whore, a player, an imbecile, and the list goes on. But he was like a pup. He knew when he did something wrong, and he took responsibility.

I continued sending punch after punch, denting his face into his brain.

And then he said in between punches, “You’re no different from me.”

I stopped, and retracted my clenched fist.

His eyes were bruised, his nose broken, and his lip cut. Even so, he still managed to curl his lips into a shaky, solemn smile.

“You’re no different from me, James.”

The hell I’m not.

I pushed my fist in further, with an intense amount of force. However, Tyler quickly turned his head, successfully dodging the blow. My fist landed in the sand, creating a large dent.

“You think I didn’t immediately know what you and Joy were doing in that empty classroom this afternoon?” he asked, turning his face back to me. “She came up to me after you left. We got to talking, Vic and I. I convinced her to give you the map earlier than she planned. She wanted to make you work for it; I suppose she reckoned she could have a laugh if she played you a little bit. But she changed her mind, and looked for you.” He let out a bitter laugh. “You were with Joy, in that old Transfiguration classroom in the seventh floor.”

“You could have stopped her from going.” I growled, despite myself, as I hovered above him.

“And told her what?” he asked, laughing cruelly. “Don’t go, he’s off shagging Lovegood rotten. She insisted. She was curious, I suppose. You know that it’s impossible to change her mind once she’s made it.”

“This information is useless to me.” I raised my fist again, ready to lay another punch on him, but he spoke once more, stopping me in mid motion.

“You’re just like me, believe it or not, mate.” He smirked and bet over to spit out blood. “You needed an escape from Vic. You know that she’s too good for you, and you can’t have that. So you find another good fuck, just to make sure that you don’t fancy her.”

At the mention of Victoria, the image of Dominique’s palm violently meeting her cheek popped up in my mind. I couldn’t forget the look on her face as Dominique retracted her hand. It was clouded with emotion, and I could tell that she was trying her best not to cry.

Gruffly, I shoved Tyler deeper into the dirt and pushed myself off of him. I planted myself on the ground, and brought my knees up, resting my arms against it. “That’s completely different.” I scowled.

He sat up as well and practically mirrored my movements. It was as if he was unfazed by my beating. “How so? Don’t tell me that you and Lovegood were in that classroom having a heart to heart.”

Again, I grimaced. “You and Dom are together. Her affections for you were clear. She fancied you, we all knew it.”

“She fancies me.” He nodded. “But... the arrow wore off.”

“What?” I asked with disbelief.

“It’s not the same anymore.” He admitted. “It was fast, and I was surprised too. Believe me, mate, I tried so bloody hard, but it’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same?”

“I don’t love her. I can’t love her, it’s too dangerous. Look at what I did to her already.”

“That’s because you were a coward, you fucker.”

Again, he laughed bitterly. “Like I said, you’re just like me.”

“Don’t even try to compare yourself to Victoria and I.”

“Why? It’s exactly the same situation. You know she fancies you, mate. She loves you, actually. Why did you go off and fuck Lovegood?”

She wasn’t the only one I fucked today.

Amelie clouded my thoughts, blurring my internal vision further.

I was getting a headache from all this drama. I’m not cut out for this shit. “Am I supposed to have that kind of consideration towards every female that fancies me? Because if so, then I suppose I’ll never be able to shag another girl in my life again.”

“Victoria is different.” He pointed out grimly, as he scowled in my direction. “You and I both know that.”

I scoffed and looked away. “Why, because she’s Desmond’s best friend? Because she’s my cousins best friend?”

“She’s Victoria. You care about her. We all do.”

“You all need to stop referring to her as if she’s some bloody child.”

“You need to stop pretending that she means nothing to you.”

“So what if she does?” I demanded furiously. I couldn’t believe I was forced to have another one of these conversations. “My sister means something to me, Dominique means something to me, and even Layla has grown on me as well!”

He rolled his eyes. “You know very well that it is not the same thing.”

“Are you insinuating that I fancy Victoria?” I growled viciously, glaring daggers in his direction.

“No.” Tyler shook his head. “I’m just saying it’s different with her. Don’t bother lying to me, James. I’ve known you since those days you thought girls had cooties.”

I fell silent, unsure of what to say. I wanted to punch more of Tyler’s face in, just for good measure. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the image of Dom crying out of my mind.

“Take a look at Dom, mate.” He whispered wistfully as he pulled out a box of cigarettes from his pocket. Silently, he handed me one, and I took it without a single thought. We both lit the small, white stick, and took a long drag.

Fuck it felt so good… so refreshing.

“That episode of hers. Those tears, her hysterics. I can assure you,” He brought the cig to his lips and took another drag and blew the smoke downwards. “That inside, Vic’s breaking down too. If she was more like Dom, and less like herself, she would have fallen into hysterics a long time ago.”

I reckoned that answered my question.

I took a drag, hoping that it would ease my insides.

It didn’t.

The image of Dominique shouting, screaming, and crying… it was still there. And now I knew why. She voiced everything Victoria was too afraid to. She mirrored Victoria’s inner feelings, her inner weaknesses — or at least, everything Victoria was too afraid to show.
But all I could see was one thing.


That girl — Victoria — no matter how much she hides it, she was so, fucking weak.

Just like every other girl in the world. They were weak. They were all weak. And it was disgusting. They allowed silly and petty problems to get to them. They let the tears fall, and they sit by, waiting for prince charming to come by on a white horse, wipe their tears away and sweep them off their bloody feet.

I wasn’t about to hop on a fucking hippogriff, and relentlessly for a dumb fuck princess, especially one who can’t even take care of herself.

How could — I didn’t understand it. How could someone have so little pride that they allow themselves to feel so much pain?

I was suddenly angry with Victoria — furious, in fact. Furious that she was stupid enough to allow this to happen to herself.

She shouldn’t be in love with me.

The thought itself was laughable.

The only way to make it all go away is if I fell in love with her.

I almost laughed out loud. That was… It’s ludicrous.


But that also means that Victoria is forced to love me forever.

Until the day she dies.

I glanced at Tyler. His gaze was fixed on the Slytherin stands.

A memory suddenly sparked in my mind, and I found myself grinning like a fool.

Fourth year, end of fall term, Desmond, Tyler and set the Slytherin stands on fire. It was fake — the fire — and extremely safe.

I knew I should have been angry with him. I should have been infuriated, seething, outraged, livid, the works. He hurt Dominique. My younger cousin. He hurt her more than anyone has ever hurt her in her life.

But I couldn’t.

He was my boy. No matter what he did, or does in the future — no matter what either he or Desmond ever does — we’re… we’re bros. Family. It was as simple as that.

And he was right.

We were similar.

I couldn’t get angry with him without feeling the least bit hypocritical.

I clicked my tongue, grimaced, and then took a long drag. For the rest of the night, Tyler and I sat in the middle of the pitch silently. I no longer had the urge to beat his face into a pulp, and he stopped talking in riddles — for now.

That’s all it was; Tyler, me, my swollen fist, a twelve pack of cigs, the sandy pitch, the cold night’s air, and the cool, illuminating moonlight momentarily soothing our troubles away. It wasn’t much, but moments like those were enough to allow me to, for the time being, forget all about the girl who was hopelessly in love with me.

A/N: hiya. since you guys have been asking, i think the halloween ball will be the next chapter. Hopefully.... unless i suddenly change my mind last minute, and decide to delay it :P i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! hopefully, you guys don't hate james too much! he can really be an ass.

please review :)

Chapter 17: Exploding Snaps and Glitter x 9999
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Seventeen
Victoria Rose

You know how those really big natural disasters, like tsunamis, hurricanes, tornados, leaves an epic amount of damage, and the civilians are left to marvel at the path of destruction and clean up after its mess? That’s basically how the next week went down.

Dom and Tyler’s split — even though they were not officially a couple — affected the entire bloody Gryffindor house. I know. It was unbelievable. Each time the two somehow stepped within a twenty foot vicinity of one another, volcanoes erupted, and the poor, innocent bystanders of Gryffindor Tower — and practically the rest of the castle that just happened to be unlucky enough to witness It — would be sucked into a very, very large bubble called discomfort. Tyler and Dom should have worn signs that said ‘WARNING: Come near me, and you will be forced to feel uncomfortable for the next ten minutes!’

I might be exaggerating just a tad bit.

But that was certainly the way I saw it.

The next day, instead of doing it herself, Dom forced Rhiannon — Rhi was practically crying on her knees once Dom was through with her — to tell Freddie the truth.

And Freddie… Merlin, Freddie. This boy — it was almost heartbreaking to see the effect Rhiannon had on him. I mean, he was head over heels crazy about her. There was no doubt about it. He, surprisingly enough, looked and treated her as if she was the most valuable thing on Earth.

When she told him, it happened to be in the middle of the common room. Luckily, everyone was in the Great Hall having dinner, while Potter, Des, Lily, Al, Roxy and I were stuck to watch Rhiannon who practically took Freddie’s heart, threw it on the ground, and unforgivingly left marks of her designer shoes all over the surface.

For days, Dominique refused to look at me. She would sleep in the dorm with Layla, while I took refuge in Desmond’s bed.

Layla, who was completely caught in the middle of it without prior notice, refused to allow herself to get sucked in any further. She spent a great deal of time away from Dominique. She indulged in nonexistent schoolwork, knowing that it would temporarily be enough to excuse herself from choosing between Dominique, or me.

“You think she’s okay?” Layla asked, four days after the incident. We were in back corner of the library, lounging against the hardwood table. She was flipping through a charms book, in search for a spell to adjust the length of her hair, while I had an untouched copy of A Brave New World opened in front of me. “She’s been in the dorm all day. She skived classes.”

I scoffed bitterly, completely fed up with Dominique’s attitude. “It’s been almost a week, how much longer does she needs?”

Layla sighed heavily. “She’s been betrayed, Vic. You know how Dom copes. She breaks a pair of heels and she mourns for a good two weeks before she goes out and buys another pair.” She bit her lip thoughtfully. “Fred is furious. Not at her, but he’s not making the situation any better by staying away from her. The only person he really talks to these now are Albus and Roxanne.”

“I suppose she’ll come around soon.” I whispered, silently hoping that it was true.

“Tyler tried apologizing.” Layla said, biting her lip as she turned her gaze in my direction. Her brilliant eyes sparked with worry. “Dom was furious. She wouldn’t let him say anything more after he uttered a simple ‘I’m sorry.’ She sent him straight off, and James found her in the closed off girls lavatory in the dungeons.”

“Have you spoken to Tyler?” I questioned.

She shakes her head. “Not since two days ago. It’s almost impossible to be around either of them. I still can’t believe he shagged Rhiannon.”

“Neither can I.” I agreed, letting out a short breath.

A muggle watch beeped on Layla’s wrist, and she cursed under her breath. “Sorry, babe, but I need to go.” She apologized with a grimace. “That bitch of a Head Girl is forcing a couple of us to go to Hogsmeade and shop for the decorations for the Masquerade Ball. If you ask me,” she continued, standing up and picking up her bag from the chair beside her. “She just wants a group of people to call her minions for the day.”

I snorted, flipping an unread page. “She’ll be enjoying today, won’t she?”

“I assure you that by the time I return to the dormitory later tonight, my shoes will be filled with my own blood.” She turned to leave, but after taking a second thought, she turned around again to face me. “By the way, you do know that we won’t be needing dates for the ball this weekend, right?” she asked.

“Well, of course.” I answered. “What kind of masquerade ball would it be if we showed up with dates? The air of mysteriousness would be totally shattered!”

“Just wondering. Stay in this Saturday! I want to get ready together.”

“Yes, you’ve told me many times.”

Layla rolled her eyes with a hint of a grin on her face. “Don’t have too much fun without me, princess.”

“Don’t hate too much, Layla.” I called after her with a playful smile on my face while she swerved and headed for the exit.

“See you later!”

James Potter

Classes were finally over. It was a long, long day. The tension between my best friend and my (favorite) cousin could not be any more obvious. They practically had it printed on their foreheads.

I was still pretty pissed at Tyler, but what could I do after he made an incredibly good point last night. It would be hypocritical of me to stay angry.

“You’re going to have to apologize to her.” I reminded him as we stepped through the threshold of the portrait hole. “I don’t care how, or when, but mate, you’re going to apologize to her until she forgives you.”

Tyler fell silent behind me.

Upon seeing a pack of my family settled on the couch in front of the fireplace, I decided to join them. I wasn’t in the mood to join Tyler in an uncomfortable silence in our dormitory.

“Hey Jamesie.” Lily greeted once I plopped down beside her. “Have you seen Fred at all today?”

I shook my head and forced it down to rest on her shoulder.

It was a lie. In fact, I had seen Fred. I, however, did not want to disclose to our entire family that he had been shagging a Slytherin in the dungeons since lunchtime.

“McGonagall set me aside today.” Roxy piped up. “She pulled me out of Charms and started questioning me about Freddie’s behavior.”

“What did you say?” Al asked.

Roxy shrugged. “I told her that I didn’t know what was going on with him. I think McGonagall came close to indirectly warning me that she’d call mum and dad if Freddie didn’t straighten himself out soon. He skived half of his classes today.”

Al sighed heavily. “I never did like Rhiannon.” He muttered darkly.

“It’s not only Rhiannon’s fault.” Hugo added. “Tyler knew exactly what he was doing.”

“How’s Dominique?” Roxy questioned. “I haven’t seen her all day either. It’s like the two of them fell off the face of the earth.”

“Dom’s a mess.” My darling sister answered. “I went to see how she was this morning, and… I’ve never seen her in this state.”

Her words hit me hard in the chest. It was as if her words weighed a ton, and she threw it straight into that gaping hole in my body, knocking the wind right out of me.

“You’re no different from me.”

Tyler’s words haunted me like a ghoul waiting to be saved. They pierced through my brain and rattled my skull like there was no fucking tomorrow. I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was simply there, beating at my insides.

“You okay, brother?” Al broke through my thoughts with a punch against my shoulder. He was staring at me with his piercing green eyes — the same green eyes that we had both inherited from our father. But there was something different — something that I could not put my finger on. “You look a bit troubled there.”

I continued staring at my brother, wondering what he could possibly have that I don’t.

“James, you okay?” Lily asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

And that’s when I clicked.

My brother — the nicer Potter, had something that I didn’t: a mother-fucking soul.

Victoria Rose

I noticed a pattern in the Wotter family. When said Wotter gets dumped, cheated on, or has their heart broken in any way possible, they, having some natural, indescribable charm that I am completely jealous of, indulge themselves in as much sexual activity with the opposite sex as possible.

It’s crazy, I know.

But it was their coping methods.

If Dom were to break a pair of her heels, after she’s gone through her little grieving process, she’ll buy about ten more before she’s completely satisfied.

When Freddie’s pranks go wrong, he sulks all around the bloody castle until he finally decides to think of an even cleverer plan. Not the best example, but you get the basic gist of it.

The next week, or so, Dominique and Freddie got around. When I say they got around, I mean, they really got around. There were times when Dominique stumbled into the dormitory, as loud as she bloody could, at four in the morning. She’d always reek of dungeons and sex.

Which meant one thing.


Freddie — well — the boy didn’t even try to hide it. Everywhere he went there was a new chick hanging off his arm. His lips would be permanently attached to any part of her exposed skin, which usually turned out to be her neck.

Layla actually found Dominique’s ordeal rather interesting. For years, Dominique has been talking about her insatiable desires to hook up with a Slytherin — just for kicks of course — and finally, her wish had come true.

Lycan Smith, the ‘sex god’ of the Slytherin house. Or at least that’s what’s been spreading around the past year. Dominique wanted her taste, and she had it.

I, however, did not get to hear the details. Not that I would want to. I had absolutely no interest in fucking a man-whore.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the aftermaths of the monstrous disaster that was Dominique and Tyler’s’ break up, there stood Potter and I. Or should I say, the growing relationship between Austin and I, the growing friendship between Greyson and I, and the crumbling relationship (if you could even call it that) between Potter and I, which, by the way, he seems to not even give a damn about.

Austin was … he was sweet. It’s impossible to deny his sweetness.

Greyson was hilarious. I could genuinely say that I enjoyed his company, especially at times like these. For a while, I can almost forget the distance keeping me from my broken-hearted best friend.

And then there was Potter, the man-whore, slut-faced, prat, who had recently shagged Joy Lovegood. Rumors were, Amelie — bloody fucking Amelie — came next in line. I would be lying if I said that finding out that Potter had slept with another girl didn’t hurt. Because it did. It hurt like hell. But I had too much pride to admit it, much less, to show Potter just how much it had hurt.

He on the other hand, did not seem the least bit moved by the sudden change in our lives. He walked the corridors as if he did not have a care in the fucking world. He played around with Desmond and Tyler as if it was a sunny, Sunday afternoon. He walked by me like I was completely invisible — like I was a fucking painting on the wall. Watching Potter stroll by so nonchalantly irritated me to no end.

I didn’t even know how it had come down to this.

But it had.

I honestly… Missed Pott —


Well speak of the mother-fucking devil.

“Potter.” I turned to face him, my voice equally as hard and cold.

The corridor was empty. I had just noticed.

Potter was wearing a cashmere sweater on top of his white school shirt. A very weird choice of clothing for Potter… Nonetheless, he looked undeniably handsome.

Snap out of it Vicky.

“Why are you lurking around the castle looking like you’re about to push yourself off the Astronomy Tower?” he asked bluntly, sticking both his hands into his trousers.

I narrowed my eyes at him with confusion. “Why are you… why are you interrupting my lurking?”

He scoffed at my stupidity. I would have too, if only I wasn’t facing Potter at the moment. My pride was larger than that, thank you very much. “Have you seen Desmond?”

“What am I, his keeper?” I snapped irritably, trying my best to seem annoyed.

I was, though.

A little.

I might have been enjoying it too.

A little.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot it’s the other way around.” He bit back sourly as he rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated.

I take it back.

I take it all back.

My eyes narrowed into a glare, and I huffed angrily. “Well… if you’ll excuse me, Potter.” I scowled, before turning around and continuing my ‘lurking’ around the castle.

Bloody wanker.

Ugh, I hated Potter. I can’t believe that for a moment there, I actually thought I missed him. What the bloody hell was I thinking? I must have been drugged. Yeah, definitely. I was definitely drugged.

“Oi, Victoria!” Potter called loudly. “I’m not done with you yet!”

“Well I’m done with you, Potter!” I shouted back without turning around. “I’m so fucking done with you,” I muttered under my breath and quickened my pace.

However, before I could get any further, Potter reached out his hand and grabbed my arm, keeping me in place. “So quick to run off to Willow now, aren’t you?” his gorgeous, kiss-able lips curled into a disgusted sneer. “I’m sure your boyfriend can wait a little longer, don’t you think so?”

“Last time I checked, the entire castle thinks you’re my boyfriend.” I shot back, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t go assuming things without knowing anything.”

Surprisingly, he smirked. “Are you insinuating that I don’t know anything about you, Vicky?” he teased. “Because I seriously, beg to differ.”

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “Please, Potter. You know absolutely nothing about me.”

“There you go again.” He withdrew his hand and sneered. “Thinking you’re so high and mighty, like you’re too fucking good for everyone.” He spat each and every single word at my feet with viciousness, causing me to take a step back. “When are you going to stop the act?”

“Fuck you, you insufferable prat!” I cried. “You know absolutely nothing about me Potter. Not one single thing. Don’t even think for a second that just because we’ve been around each other for six years, that it suddenly means you’re a master in all things Victoria.”

“Oh but I do, Vic.” He jeered with a good amount of anger. “You’re seriously underestimating my knowledge.”

“Just st —”

Before I could utter another word, the scowl on Potters’ face hardened significantly, and he took a step back with blazing eyes. “It’s completely impossible to have a normal conversation with you.” He remarked in a low, exasperated voice. “I sought you out to offer my sympathy concerning Dominique. You looked like you weren’t doing so well this week.” In other words, pity. “She’s a little hardheaded — we both know that. Give her some time, and she’ll c —”

I felt my hands balling into fists at my sides. I couldn’t believe Potter came to find me because he fucking pitied me. “I don’t need your sympathy.” I said through gritted teeth. “No — I don’t need your pity.”

He stopped in his tracks and stared at me with disbelief. “I specifically said sympathy.”

“But you mean pity.” I continued, quite furious. “Don’t even dare denying it, you bloody git. I don’t need your fucking pity. I don’t need anyone’s pity, and especially not yours. So go find another witch to screw and get the fuck out of my sight.” I spat viciously.

Potters eyes were glued to the ground as the corner of his lip quirked in a bitter, hollow smile. He was tonguing the inside of his cheek, exposing a sliver of his sharp fang-looking tooth — something imperfect that I’ve always found quite attractive. After a few moments, he looked as though he was about to say something, but he simply looked up, locked our eyes together and nodded.

“Alright, Vic.” He said, still nodding. He dropped his head, breaking our locked gazes. “Alright.”

And then he was gone.


Later that night, Greyson and I were hanging around an empty corridor deep in the dungeons. It was around midnight — at least it was the last time I checked — and way past curfew. We were playing a game of exploding snap, and I was winning. Insert cheeky grin here.

“Since when did you get so good at this game?” he asked as I collected the deck of cards in my hand. “The last time we played, you literally sucked to the point where I felt horrible for beating you.”

I grinned and shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess I was just hustling you.” I replied.

“Last time I checked,” he began as the cards began shuffling. “Hustling is a form of cheating.”

I laughed loudly as the card exploded in his face. “To be honest, I was rusty the first time we played.” Another card exploded I his face. “After growing up playing with Desmond, Potter and Tyler, you sort of become an expert. We used to play this all the time just to pass time.”

“Used to?” he asked, and chuckled as the next set exploded in my face. “You’re talking in the past tense.”

Shrugging, I slammed the top of my wand down on the card. “Things change when you grow up.”

“You’re talking as if you’ve just turned thirty.”

“We changed as we grew up.” I corrected, giving him a mildly irritated look. “After a while, we didn’t have time for games anymore. We grew apart slightly, to be honest.”

“I don’t understand.” Greyson frowned, but then soon broke out into a smile after he beat me to the card. “You six look as close as ever — as if you’re all glued together.”

I laughed bitterly. “We barely have time for each other now. I suppose we still eat breakfast together, we fool around during Quidditch practices, but it’s not the same as the past couple of years. Desmond and I barely see each other. These days, it’s all Potter, Potter, Potter. Layla is too immersed in her schoolwork, and when she’s not, she’s just a plain grouch. And Dom… don’t even get me started on Dom.” After taking a breath, I suddenly realized that I had been speaking too much. “Sorry, I was talking too much.”

“No, it’s fine.” He said as he turned back to the game. “For once, it’s nice to see that you’re still human.”


“Forgive me, Victoria, but sometimes, you come off as a robot with no feelings.”


He chuckled as a card spontaneously exploded. “You know sometimes, I’m more than convinced that you belong in Slytherin, instead of Gryffindor.”

I laughed. “Desmond has said this to me countless of times.”

“It’s true. You’re clever, witty, incredibly lazy, and you’re a — excuse me for saying this — bitch.” My face softened. His words sounded incredibly similar to Potters’. “You were probably only placed in Gryffindor because of your ridiculously large heart that just so happens to be stowed away in an ice box.”

“You talk as if you know me, Greyson.”

He chuckled. “I’ve learned enough over the past couple of days. You’ve been spending more time with me than with your own friends.”

“I needed a breather.” I responded. “You can’t blame me, can you?”

“I suppose I can’t.” Another card exploded.

“Why don’t you have any friends?” I asked rather bluntly. I looked up at him, only to find him staring at me with amusement. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that I —”

“I like to be alone.” He answered. “Aside from Elena during my fourth year, I liked being alone.”

I nodded and said, “Ah, the infamous Elena Briggs. She had quite the reputation.”

Greyson laughed softly, looking rather nostalgic.. “I assure you, none of them were true.”

“What happened to her?” I asked curiously.

The game ended. I won again.

“She grew up.” He said with a shrug. “She was three years older than I was.”

“So growing up entails breaking up with your long-term boyfriend?”

He shrugged again as he gathered up the cards. “She was all set for Salem Witches Academy to continue her studies, and I guess she wanted to leave this life behind.”

“I suppose having a boyfriend three years her junior didn’t go well with the whole Salem scene?”

Greyson cracked a smile. “I suppose so.” He answered.

For a while, we continued playing Exploding Snaps. I was winning, and he was starting to feel the painful sting of losing twelve times in a row.

“It’s past one.” He said, glancing at his wristwatch. “Aren’t your friends wondering where you are?”

I shrugged, even though I knew Desmond would have probably been scouring the castle by now.

“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy your company and all, but I really do not want to have to deal with Pierce and Potters’ temper.”

Laughing, I rolled my eyes. “Don’t tell me that you’re threatened by a couple of Gryffindors. I thought Slytherins aren’t allowed to show weakness in front of their house rivals.”

“That is why you will tell neither Pierce nor Potter that I just said that.”

Smiling at him, I said, “You know for a Slytherin, you’re not so bad.” I commented humorously.

He returned my smile, but I could tell that it was not as genuine as it looked. “Let me tell you something, Vic.” He began, shuffling the cards in his hands. “Don’t ever trust a Slytherin.”

I didn’t understand what he meant behind his words. Nevertheless, I let it go.

The next hour was a blur. Greyson and I continued talking, laughing, and joking as random cards spontaneously exploded in our faces. For once, the dungeon’s eerie atmosphere did not faze me, and the coldness did not send chills through my bones. I almost forgot that I was even in the dungeon’s, playing exploding snaps with a Slytherin. For the first time in a while, I felt at home, and I was going to milk it for all it was worth.


It was around three in the morning when I finally decided to return to the common room. The portrait of the Fat Lady protested loudly as I practically shouted the password fifteen times in a row. The fat-fart was bloody sleeping like a rock. When she finally allowed me entrance, I crept in through the hole, and was surprised to find firelight flickering against the walls.

Someone was still awake.

I kicked off my shoes, in hopes that it would make my entrance quieter. I tiptoed along the carpet, and made my way deeper into the common room. Taking a breath, I glanced towards the fireplace, and found Potter slumped against the couch with a textbook opened on his lap.

A large part of me wanted to keep walking, scurry up the stairs, walk straight into my warm bed, and forget that I ever saw Potter that night. But another part of me — the more dominant part of me — was drawn to Potter more than I would have liked. I found my legs acting on their own accord as they brought me to the left arm of the couch.

“Potter.” I practically whispered after losing a silent debate in my own head. I would have felt stupid if I had just stood there, not saying a word.

He looked up, startled, as if he hadn’t heard my entrance at all. For a small fragment of a second, there was a strange look in his eyes. I couldn’t tell what it was. Perhaps it might have been because it was the first time in my life that I’ve seen Potter show something more than pure emptiness. “Victoria.” He returned coldly. The flicker of emotion was gone, and was replaced by the usual hollowness. “Desmond’s pretty pissed at you, I hope you know. And he did a good job pissing Layla off while he was at it.”

I sighed exasperatedly. “I wasn’t really expecting anything different.”

Emotionless, he turned away and looked back down at his lap.

My eyes flickered to the thick parchment sitting on the couch behind him. His wand was carelessly draped over the crinkled paper. I squinted, trying to catch the words printed on the page.

Potter, who followed my eyes, immediately snatched the paper from beside him and folded it up.

Once I realized what it was, my eyes returned to his face. “Were you watching me?” I asked curiously, unable to stop myself.

“No.” he answered stiffly as his eyes rapidly flickered down. “Mischief manage.” He quickly muttered under his breath, pointing his wand to the surface of the parchment.

“Then do you enjoy watching people on the map at three in the morning?” I questioned with amusement. “Is this a secret hobby of yours, Pot —”

“Would you shut it?” he snapped irritably. “Go upstairs and get some sleep. Hasn’t Greyson drained you of your energy yet, or is he simply incapable of doing so?”

My eyes suddenly narrowed into slits. “Is this your ridiculously stupid attempt at getting a sexual innuendo in at three in the morning?” I seethed. “If so, you’re not funny, Potter.”

“Clearly I entertain you somehow because you’re still standing here talking to me.” He retorted.

“Fine.” I snapped angrily. “Goodnight.”

Potters scowl was the last thing I saw before I stomped up the stairs and straight into my dormitory.


Saturday came fairly quickly. It was the first dance/social gathering we’ve had in two years, and everyone was ecstatic. I suppose it was the idea of being able to pretend to be someone else for just one night. I was positive that I wasn’t the only one in the castle who was sick and tired of being herself.

While the lot of us were lounging in the common room on a rainy Saturday afternoon — when I say the lot of us, I mean the Potter/Weasley clan plus Desmond, Scorpius, and I (Dominique was off doing Merlin knows what, and Tyler was out avoiding the people who were after his throat) — Layla rushed in through the portrait hole and ushered each and every one of us off our arses to help with decorations.

“There are only ten people downstairs!” Layla informed me as she shoved me down the stairs. “Stop complaining you lazy bums! The Great Hall will turn out a lot nicer with more people helping out!”

“But it’s not the same!” Lily cried, hopping down the steps with a pout on her lips. “It’s not as… magical, the first moment we step into the Great Hall, I mean, if we’re going to be the ones decorating it!”

“Lils,” Layla sighed as she slung her arm around the younger girl. “Did you ever manage to work off those detentions McGonagall gave you when term started?”

Lily frowned and sourly said, “No.”

“Well then, how about you get everyone to cooperate with me today, and I erase an entire week’s worth?”

I watched with amusement as her lips suddenly spread into a large, toothy smile. Lily’s steps became more rhythmic and lively as she practically sashayed down the stairs.

“Oh, yeah, now she’s excited.” I turned my head at the sound of Potters muttering. He quickly passed me, stepping down two steps at once.

He didn’t even bother looking in my direction.

Congrats, Vic. Congrats on falling in love with the biggest asshole of the entire century.


Layla was right. I thought she was over exaggerating. I mean — the prefects seemed to have their responsibilities covered for the most part. But as I looked around, I noticed that more than half of the prefects were not even present. When we entered, there must have been, at most, only eight kids bustling around the Great Hall.

The four long benches were reduced to two, which were pushed up against either side of the Great Hall. Piles and piles of boxes with their contents pouring out from the opening covered most of the surface of the wooden tables.

“What the bloody hell…” Roxy muttered from beside me. Curious, I followed her gaze, and my mouth dropped with disbelief.

There, smack in the middle of the Great Hall, were enormous piles of gold, silver, yellow, blue, and white glitter.

Glitter — sparking, magical, glitter.

It was my worst fucking nightmare.

“Don’t ask.” Layla muttered as she strode right past me and into the hall. “I don’t even know how — no, I don’t even know where they managed to find so much glitter…”

From beside Ginger, who was standing behind Albus, Hugo shrugged. “It’s pretty cool.”

The entire mob simultaneously turned their heads to stare at Hugo with uncertainty.

Sensing that all eyes were on him, Hugo turned to us with a look of pure indignation. “What?” he cried resentfully after taking a small step back. “There are giant piles of glitter in the middle of the Great Hall! Who wouldn’t find it cool?”

“Anyway…” Lily turned away from her deranged cousin. “Let’s get this over with, guys. We have about six and a half hours before we must return upstairs to get ready.”

And so we got to work. For the first thirty minutes, none of us knew where to start. We tried our best avoiding the Head Girl, who was practically rolling around in her endless piles of glitter.

She seriously was. For a second there, I thought I saw her eating a couple of handfuls.

When she wasn’t obnoxiously shoving handfuls of glitter in her mouth, she was too busy standing on her throne of glitter, giving orders to anyone her eyes landed on.

Sylvia and, surprisingly enough, Georgie Brendle (Amelie’s right hand woman), were helping out as well. They were both — just kidding — Sylvia was bustling around with boxes of decorations, while Georgie lounged on the only available surface of the long table, as she studied her nails.

Once Desmond caught sight of Sylvia, he immediately elbowed Potter.

“Whut?” Potter muttered quietly.

“It’s your time to step up, mate.” Desmond answered cheekily.

Potter groaned when he realized what Desmond was talking about. “You owe me so big.” Without another word, Potter strayed from the group and made his way towards Sylvia. I distastefully watched Potter stride across the hall and approach Sylvia. Unknowingly, a low growl rumbled in the base of my throat.

“Easy, girl.” Des muttered in my ear. “Remember, he’s taking one for the team.”

I mercilessly elbowed his stomach, causing Desmond to double over in pain. “Shut it, Cupid.” I growled irritably before entering the hall and approaching the long table opposite of Potter and Sylvia.

“They seem to be getting along great…” he remarked while walking to the table.

“I said shut it.”

“Are you, by any chance, jealous, Vicky?” The idiot, Cupid, taunted.

“No.” I grumbled.

“I think you ar —”

“Hullo, Des.” A very, very rude voice interrupted.

“Georgie.” I greeted bitterly.

“How have you been lately?” Thanks bitch. Way to completely ignore my presence.

“Fine.” Desmond, who looked bewildered, answered. “Er.. how have you been, Georgie?”

A flirtatious smile appeared on her face, and I immediately knew where this was going. “I’ve been fantastic.” She answered. “How sweet of you to ask, Desmond.”

He let out a nervous chuckle. I rolled my eyes and snorted loudly.

“Say, I could really use some help with the decorations… I’m… well I’m a bit hopeless when it comes to levitating things…” She slipped her bottom lip through her teeth and bit it with an earnest look on her hideously gorgeous face.

“That’s not the only thing you’re hopeless at.” Hugo muttered darkly, passing by Desmond and I.

I snorted again, and this time, it was out of amusement.

Surprisingly — and mind you, I have never felt more betrayed in my life — Desmond shrugged and nodded before he followed Georgie down the hall, and towards the giant pile of glitter.

My mouth dropped open.

“Stupid, idiotic, cupid…” I cursed darkly. “... bloody leaving his own best friend for a skank.”

“Did you know that talking to yourself is one of the firsts signs of insanity?” A voice behind me rang in my ears, causing me to jump out of my shoes and swivel around to face the perpetrator.

It was Al Potter, standing before a large box while holding a thick roll of wrapping paper. He looked oddly suspicious…

Was he going to wrap the boxes of decorations?

I was confused..

Even he, himself, looked confused.

“You look like you’re not too far from that neighborhood as well, Al.” I replied, eyeing him carefully.

“Don —”

“Why are you holding wrapping paper?” Lily asked Albus curiously, cutting him off. She had skipped across the hall to her older brothers’ side, leaving Roxy’s company and replacing it with Al’s.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the wrapping paper in his hands, Al turned to his sister and frowned distastefully. “Why are you here again, Lillers?” He asked with a hint of sourness.

As a response to Al’s sour attitude, Lily cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, giving Albus that you-really-dare-to-mess-with-me look. At this angle, she resembled Ginny Potter so much, that it was almost scary. “Why are you avoiding the question, Lé Bus?”

Lé Bus. It was Lily’s stupid childhood nickname for her older brother. When she was two — or so I’ve heard — she couldn’t pronounce ‘Albus’, even if the life of her favorite ragdoll depended on it. Trust me, Potter and Al have tried. Or so I’ve — you know — heard. It sounded French, and it sounded stupid. I almost smacked my hand to my forehead at the sound of the name resurfacing.

“Why are you still calling me that stupid name?” Al asked with a scowl. His lips curled, reminding me of Potters’ lips. They were so similar, but so different all at once.

“Would you just answer the question?” Lily snapped impatiently.

“If you must know, little sister, I was going to go wrap James in it while Desmond holds him down.”

I snorted inwardly. No matter how much I hoped it was true, there was no way that James would allow Albus to get away with something so hilariously embarrassing (for Potter).

Lily stared at Albus with a plain face for a good eight seconds. She then dropped her gaze and nodded approvingly. “Carry on.” And then she stalked off, heading back towards Roxy’s direction.

I laughed at her departure. As I turned back to Albus, he put the wrapping paper down before reaching over and picking up a large box labeled ‘curtains’. I noticed how he picked it up with ease. I thought these drapes were rather heavy; they were velvet after all.

“You’re not really going to wrap Potter with that, are you?” I asked him as he peered inside the box. “Without Fred here, I don’t think you would dare to take him on your own.”

Albus scoffed, and puffed his chest out. “I can take James any day.” He said in a deep, manly, but all-too-fake voice.

I gave him a simple look, and his ‘manly’ exterior immediately crumbled around him. He sighed and then shook his head in a defeated manner. “It’s Lil’s birthday soon.” He answered with a whisper. “The first Friday of November.”

I completely forgot about the littlest Potters’ birthday. “Is that her present?”

He nodded. “It’s from Ginger and I.”

I grinned at the words ‘Ginger and I.’

“You two are so bloody cute!” I squealed, punching Albus’ arm.

“Ow!” He cried like a little girl, and rubbed where I had punched him. “Every year for as long as I can remember, Lily, being the little brat that she is, always manages to find out what she’s getting weeks before her actual birthday. This year, she will never find out!” he grinned proudly.

“So you’re convinced that doing this right under her nose would work, instead of sneaking around and doing it behind her back.” I summarized.

He thought for a while, and then nodded with a grin. “Yup.”

I clapped a hand to his shoulder and smiled. I knew how conniving and sneaky Lily could be. She was smarter and cleverer compared to her two older brothers, and she, unlike Albus, knew how to sneak around. “Good luck with that, Al.”

“So, I spoke with Tyler today.” I turned around at the sound of Layla’s voice.

She was walking towards Albus and I, struggling with two large boxes cradled in her arms.

Al, being the ridiculously cute gentleman he was, took the boxes out of her arms and effortlessly completed their journey to the table.

Layla smiled affectionately at Albus as she put her arm around his shoulders and began running her hand across the side of his face. “Aw, look at Albus being the little gentleman.” She cooed with a grin. “He’s so cute!”

Beneath Albus’ scowl, I could tell that he was secretly enjoying Layla’s attention. What guy wouldn’t? Layla was fucking gorgeous.

“Anyway.” She continued, keeping her arm wrapped around Al’s shoulders, even though he was more than a head taller than her. “As I was saying,” I leaned back against the edge of the table for support as story-telling time began. “Before I went to get you guys, Tyler stopped by to see me, and we got to talking. He actually helped move some of these boxes out of storage, and move the new ones in from the carriages outside.”

“Ugh, I sense girl talk coming…” Albus grumbled as he tried to pry himself from Layla’s grasp.

“Stop being such a baby, Albus.” Layla snapped quickly before turning back to me. She refused to let Albus go. “He wants to apologize to Dom. I can tell he feels terrible for everything.”

I sighed heavily upon arriving at the topic of Dominique and Tyler once more. “We can’t just forget that he hurt her.” I said.

“But we can’t just forget that he’s our friend too.” She pointed out. “He’s not completely at fault either.” She said with a sympathetic voice. “Des shot him with an arrow. He had no choice but to try to pursue her.”

“She won’t accept it easily.” I reminded Layla.

“This is all a very large mess that I rather not be involved in…” Al trailed off while his eyes rolled towards the other side of the hall. A look of longing sparked in his eyes, as if it was his greatest desire to be as far as the conversation as possible.

“I need to talk to you too.” Layla snapped impatiently, growing tired of Al’s evasiveness. “Do you think I like having you here? No. I know you’re into Ginger and everything, Al, and I can tell by her looks that she would rather not have you standing here with me, but you’re here for a reason, you little turd.”

Albus stared at Layla with disbelief. “Since when did you become so mean?” he asked with mock disbelief. “You were so sweet once before…”

“And life came to bite me in the arse.” She answered, sounding detached. “But that’s besides the point. “I need you to try and talk to Dominique for me. You and James. Take her out for the day — better day than night. Don’t give her any alcohol, but just… take her out. I’m sure it will make her feel better. You two have always been her favorite, and Victoire isn’t here for that special sisterly bond that inevitably fixes anything.”

“Dom is… very snappish these days.” Albus commented. “But! —” He interjected before Layla could say another word. “James and I accept. Everything is too weird when Dom acts like she’s PMSing every single day.”

“You are so lucky that she did not hear you say that.” I commented. “She would have probably bitten your head off by now and left you on the ground to bleed your arteries out.”

“Maybe after Dom is given time to short her feelings out and to cool off, Tyler can try setting things right.”

“Oi!” at the sound of Desmond’s loud call, Layla, Albus and I whipped our heads around towards the left-hand wall. He was levitating as he fixed the heavy, red velvet drapes around the large windows. “Would either one of you mind getting off your arses and helping me? There are sixteen windows, take your pick!”

I rolled me eyes. Nevertheless, I turned around and picked up my wand from the table where I placed it earlier. “Come levitate me Layla. Let’s leave Albus to wrap his little gift right under Lily’s nose.”

Layla laughed before releasing her hold on Albus. “You’ve gotten so tall, Al.” She commented.

“That’s generally what happens when boys go through puberty.” Al remarked sarcastically.

“Hush up, Potter.” Layla snapped before sending Al a grin, and following me across the Great Hall.

Suddenly, when I reached the second long table on the left side of the room, I stopped in my tracks. “Shit.” I cursed at the sudden reminder that I had forgotten my task all the way on the other side of the hall. “I forgot the bloody drapes. Would you get the poles set up? I’ll get the boxes. In less than five seconds flat, I went from skipping to the left, to turning around and skipping to the right.

I didn’t get very far. I immediately collided into something hard, resulting in me losing my footing, tripping on my own two feet, and becoming acquainted with the nice, cold, floor.

“You are so clumsy, that it’s unfathomable.” I heard a deep voice penetrate my thoughts from the ground.

“You’re such an asshole, that it’s unfathomable.” I barked back, unsure of whom it was that I bumped into.

I heard an exasperated sigh, and I suddenly felt hands wrapping around my elbows, hoisting me to my feet.


“Thanks.” I muttered, looking away from him.

“Yeah…” he nodded coldly with a scowl. “Don’t mention it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, dropped his gaze and stalked off.

I hated him.

I shook my head, determined to shake away all thoughts of Potter.

“Here.” Al, who suddenly came into view, dropped a heavy box in my arms. “You forgot something.”

I looked at him thankfully and shifted the weight of the box against my left hip. “Thanks.” I smiled.

“Excuse my brother. He didn’t mean to bump into you like that.” He said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, in the very same manner that Potter had not more than a minute or two ago. As I was about to open my mouth to say something, Al’s expression suddenly turned thoughtful before he said, “Well... actually yeah he did mean to do that.” He chuckled, almost as if he was embarrassed, and lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck.

I rolled my eyes and laughed hollowly. “I didn’t really expect any different.”

“He’s practically begging for your attention, you know that?” Al asked with a grin. “I know you two aren’t on best terms at the moment, but this seems to be one of the times that my brother is actually trying, even if it’s only a little.”

Unsure of what more to say, I gave Albus a small smile. “Thanks, Al.” And then I returned to Layla, who was waiting for me by the fourth window down. She was leaning against the tabletop, examining a snitch that she probably borrowed from Potter.

“Here we go.” I said, setting the box at her feet. She looked up from the snitch and glanced at the box. “Get rid of the snitch, Layla. You’re going to get distracted, and I promise to Merlin, if you drop me, I’m going to personally shove my wand up your nose.”

She rolled her eyes in a playful manner, and opened her hand freely. The wings of the snitch fluttered freely from its restraints and immediately took off.

“You’ve got my full attention.” She promised.

I took a deep breath, and nodded in her direction. I positioned myself in front of her, and waited until I felt the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach from being levitated. She started out slow, refusing to stop until I’ve reached the first row of roof-supports.

“Are you okay?” Layla shouted from the ground, holding me in place.

“Yeah!” I shouted back.

I flicked my wand towards the box, and the velvet drapes flew out, and waited.

“Hang on Vic, I can’t handle both you and this stupid rod at the same time. Oi, Rose!” Layla barked at Rose, who happened to be walking by at the perfect moment.

“What?” Rose asked, walking towards Layla.

“Do you mind slipping the drapes into the rod? I can’t concentrate on levitating both Vic and the drapes at the sa —”

I suddenly felt myself losing altitude, and my heart immediately leaped out of my chest and my stomach did summersaults. “And you obviously can’t handle having a conversation and levitating someone at the same time, either!” I cried.

Layla’s head immediately snapped back in my direction, and she bit her lip apologetically. “Sorry!” she shouted.

Soon, Layla’s head was back into the levicorpus charm, and I was back, face to face with the top arch of the extremely large window. There were already hooks placed on either side for occasions such as these, which made my task slightly easier.

From the ground, Rose fluently levitated the heavy drapes upward, and steadied them until I took the reigns. The rod was bloody fucking heavy, even with magic. The strain my wand was creating on my arm was more than I could bear, and I could feel my own weight pushing down against Layla’s charm.

“Hurry the fuck up, Vic!” Layla screeched. “My arm is cramping!”

It’s not an easy feat, trying to get a fifty-ton rod with attached ten-ton-drapes, on a hook that’s about five bloody stories from the ground. “Isn’t there some kind of charm for this?” I called, glancing towards the ground. “Something that could possibly make these fucking drapes weight any less?”

“There is, but to be honest, I don’t remember it all that well!” Rose replied.

A frustrated growl rumbled at the base of my throat before I turned my attention back to the left end of the rod that was in my hand. However, a glint of gold hovering in the air caught my attention. I couldn’t make it out, since it was too small to see. But it was moving. It went from fluttering around Rose’s hair, to fluttering in front of Layla’s face.


A snitch!

“Oi, Layla! Give me back my snitch will you? I’m bloody bored, and Scorpius took the only job suitable for a man around here.” I heard Potter say while he approached Layla.

“Hey James, if you haven’t noticed, there are three girls struggling over here, and we could really use some of your — you know — manly assistance.” I heard Rose say.

“Let me get the snitch back first. I knicked that from my dad’s trophy room myself!”

“James, stop distracting her!” Rose barked.

But it was too late. Layla’s attention diverted from me, to the snitch that was fluttering animatedly around her neck. Her hand reached out to grabbed it, but she underestimated the snitch’s closeness. With a frown, her mind strayed further away from me — from magic — and slowly began to solely focus on the little gold ball Potter sent her to fetch..

“Layla!” I yelped, feeling myself losing altitude, yet again. “Layla!” I repeated, but she didn’t hear me.

Abruptly, I felt myself falling. A sudden force pushed against me, throwing my hair around my face. The force was strong, and I could tell that it was the remnants of Layla’s charm, but it was no use. Gravity had already taken its hold over the situation.

Let me tell you something about Gravity. It did not like me.

Then, as abrupt as anything can get, it all stopped — the falling, my hair flittering around my face, and the weightless feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. I was still hovering in mid air, my hair falling like a curtain beneath my head. My breath caught in my throat, and I found myself unable to breathe.

As slowly and as carefully as possible, I turned my head, praying to Merlin that I was still alive. A small, very paranoid, part of me wasn’t sure whether or not this heart-jumping, weightless feeling was because I was now a plasmic replica of my old self.

But I wasn’t. There was no lifeless body lying beneath me. All I saw was Layla and Rose, standing with both their hands clasped over their mouths, and Potter, standing beside her, with his wand raised and pointed in my direction.

That’s when it all went to hell, and I fell into a bottomless pit of my own pile of dung. Potter, who has made it his life’s goal to cause me as much pain and irritation as possible, made a complete turn around and ran in as my knight and shining armor for about the thirtieth time since we first met.

“Are you okay?” Rose shouted loudly, pulling her hands from her lips.

“Yeah,” I breathed, turning my head back to fix my eyes at the ceiling — anywhere but at Potter. “I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. I was fucking confused. I couldn’t tell what he was doing. Was he saving me for his own future entertainment, or because Potter, surprisingly enough, genuinely had a heart?

A/N: sorry! i know it's been so long since i've updated ): i'm super sorry bu i've just been loaded with test, and i encountered writers block again.

anyway, what do you guys thinkkkk? any questions, comments, etc, leave a review! :)

Chapter 18: Masks and Magical Sprites
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Eighteen

Victoria Rose

The common room was empty, except for a few seventh years lingering about. It was ten-to-nine, and there were only ten minutes before the ball officially started. The fire of the common room was slowly dying, its flames minimizing to nearly dying embers, signifying the emptiness of the common room.

Dominique, as usual, was taking her sweet time getting her last-minute touches into her gown. Two full hours put aside to get ready, and she still needed more time. She was bloody outstanding.

Tyler, who was considerate enough to take Potters’ advice, joined Desmond and Layla in heading down to the Great Hall first. We initially planned on minimizing the interactions between Tyler and Dominique as much as possible, or else all hell would break loose, and we’d only have ourselves to blame.

Now, Potter and I were stuck waiting for the queen to make her awaited appearance.

It was silent and awkward. Silence has never been awkward with Potter. Not usually, at least. It’s always been comforting, and… heartfelt, as weird as it was. Now, it was just awkward. There was a gigantic wall labeled ‘tension’ sitting in between us, and it seemed as though neither of us were willing to be the first to break it.

Potter… he was being Potter. He was being that nonchalant asshole, as always. I, on the other hand, could not help but remain to be a fucking spaz. I was fidgeting with anything I could get my hands on, and I could not remain in one spot for more than five bloody seconds. It was as if I had consumed a gallon of sugar, only, I hadn’t. I was on a fucking high because of this boy who couldn’t give two fucks about the way I felt.

“Would you please,” Potter snapped abruptly, sounding irritated. I swiftly turned, my eyes landing on his eyes, which were shut tightly. “Just sit down?” he asked through gritted teeth. “You fidget more than anything else I’ve ever seen.”

I glared at him instinctively. “I’m sorry if I inconvenience you, Potter.” I spat.

“Just sit.”

I almost growled. “I don’t appreciate you ordering me around like I’m some bloody dog.”

He released an exasperated sigh. “I don’t see why you must make everything so bloody difficult, Vic.” His fingers reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It’s like every bloody thing has to be an argument with you.”

“Because you make everything a bloody argument, you insufferable pra —” I stopped myself before I got any further. “You know what…” Deep breaths, Victoria. Deep breaths. “I’m going to go down first. You can wait for Dom. I’m sure she wouldn’t have been too happy to learn that she’d be stuck with you and I — or just me for that matter — for the next five minutes anyway.”

I guided my thick, red gown around — I guess you could say that this was my attempt at a ‘dramatic exit,’ as non-dramatic as it may seem — and made my way to the portrait hole. I kept my eyes straight, and willed myself not to look back. The significance of the effect would minimize otherwise. But I, being the stupid, stupid, girl that I am, just could not bloody help myself. Before taking a step out of the portrait hole, I slowly turned my head, taking one last look at Potter.

He was sitting where I had left him. His elbows were pressed against his knees, and his eyes were glued to the ground.

Scowling, I immediately turned around and allowed the portrait to shut behind me. He did not look bothered. Not one bit.

I bumped into Fred on my way downstairs. Surprisingly, he was flying solo.

“How goes it, Freddie?” I greeted, as cheerfully as possible.

He gave me the most charming grin he could muster. “I’m about to have the night of my life, Vic. Why are you alone? My idiot cousin not around for once?”

I frowned at him. “Your idiot cousin hat — happens to be my boyfriend.” Oh.

“You two are still together, right?” he asked as he held out his arm and helped me down the steps like a gentleman. “I’d hate to lose five galleons to Roxy.”

“Are you two betting on how long P — James and I would last?”

Fred simply offered me a grin, and clapped his hand above mine twice. “Have a lovely evening, Victoria.” He said, once we reached the great oak doors of the Great Hall. “And if I didn’t already say it, forgive me, but,” his eyes raked my body, making me feel ridiculously self-conscious. “You look gorgeous tonight.”

Despite myself, my lips broke into a smile as I watched Fred strut through the entrance, while a black mask immediately whisked itself in front of his eyes.

Unsure of what to do with myself at that point, I scanned the crowd, suddenly feeling incredibly alone. My eyes landed on a familiar looking arrow sticking out from the backside of a suit of armor. My eyebrows knitted into a frown as I squinted my eyes, in hopes of clearing my vision.

“Desmond.” I whispered, finally realizing what it was.

Mustering up my awesome ninja skills, I swiftly approached the suit of armor and pressed my lips as close as possible without smearing lipstick against the opaque metal. I pursed my lips and whispered, “Boo,”

“You’re not scary, Vic.” Desmond mumbled from the other side.

I cursed under my breath.

“Shhh.” He always shushed me before a shot.

“Desmond, you’re not exactly being sneaky right now.” I whispered harshly. “I spotted you about ten feet away!”

“Shut up, Vic.” He retorted.

I listened carefully as he took a deep breath, and released the arrow from his bow, causing it to fly right into a girls bum. There was a loud, painful, shattering cry that rang through our ears.

As always, I winced and looked away, finding the entire process revolting to watch.

Desmond, as always, stepped out from behind the suit of armor, and began the process of pocketing his bow and arrows. “Where are James and Dom? Aren’t you supposed to be go —”

“I KNEW IT!” Another loud, shrill cry abruptly tore through our thoughts. “I BLOODY KNEW IT!”

I whirled around, coming face to face with Sylvia. She looked smug, as if she had just successfully proven someone wrong. Shit. “What are you on about now, Sylvia?”

“Don’t you dare try and deny it anymore. I saw what he did.” She pointed an accusing finger in Desmonds’ direction. “I heard that girl scream, and I saw you putting your bow and arrow away. Don’t you two dare deny it anymore!”

Shit. “You’re mad, has anyone ever told you that before?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Blistering mad.”

“Shut up,” Sylvia roughly shoved my hand away, and returned to staring straight at Desmond. “You’re a cupid! And now I can prove it! I CAN BLOODY PROVE IT NOW!” Without another word or warning, Sylvia ran for the Great Hall with fervor. She looked just about ready to blab to the entire school that Desmond was some sort of undercover Cupid.

We shared a worried look, Desmond and I. For once, we did not know how to fix this situation. Denial certainly could not work any longer since she practically caught him in the act, and accusing Sylvia of insanity has been played too many times.

However, the moment Sylvia walked through the threshold of the Great Hall, she stopped. A mask with a mixture of white and silver embedded in the lace magically appeared on her face. We watched carefully as she scanned her surroundings in an almost confused manner. Her once-too-eager hands relaxed by her sides before she floated off to the middle of the Great Hall, where the rest of the students were gathered.

“What the bloody hell just happened?” I asked, turning to Desmond. “She just… it’s like she just completely forgot what happened…”

“Let’s pray to Merlin that she did.” Desmond breathed, looking more worried than he sounded. “C’mon, it’s about time we went in. We’ll meet Dom and James inside. Layla and Tyler already went ahead.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me towards the double doors of the hall.

Before stepping through the threshold, I took a breath and examined our handy work. Although the lot of us did not stay long enough to see the final outcome of the decorations, we managed to get the structure of the entire hall down for the rest of the prefects to finish up. I must admit; it was gorgeous. I’ve never seen the Great Hall look more enchanting in my entire life. I felt like I was about to step into a fairy tale, created especially for us. I stole a glance at Desmond, only to find that he did not look as blown away as I did. Frowning, I grabbed his hand, which was lazily slung over my left shoulder, and squeezed. “Don’t worry,” I reassured. “We’ll find Sylvia, and we’ll work something out. It’s nothing we’ve never done before.”

He smiled down at me, and kissed the top of my head.

Together, stepped through the entrance, and almost immediately, I felt as though my entire world has changed.

Desmond’s arm dropped from my shoulders the moment I felt soft, velvet-like material slipping itself around my eyes. My vision blurred, and my chest constricted slightly. I blinked several times, and all of a sudden, I found myself wondering why I was suddenly standing in the Great Hall.

The last thing I remembered was walking into my dormitory with the intentions of getting ready for the ball, and yet here I was, dressed and ready.

The overwhelming effects of the situation made me feel as though I was drugged. I felt woozy, and not to mention, confused beyond belief. There were many masked faces surrounding me, but I did not know who any of them were. I cold not even recognize the color of their hair, or their body-built. Strangers — strangers who I’ve known for years, surrounded me.

“I hope this magical night,” Headmistress McGonagall’s voice called each and every students’ attention to the front of the hall. “will help all of you see whatever is behind the mask.”

The boy who was previously standing next to me stalked off, and, unsure of myself, I did the same, except in the other direction. The music started playing, but there was barely anyone dancing.

I walked to the left side of the hall and grabbed myself a drink. It smelled fruity, with a hint of alcohol. I wasn’t sure if it was simply faux, or if someone already spiked the drinks, but I drank it anyway. My taste buds became overwhelmed with sweetness, followed by a hint of bitterness, and then came the familiar searing of alcohol that usually settled in the pit of my stomach. Someone definitely spiked the drinks. I wrinkled my nose, a little disappointed that there would not be anything to drink that did not take my own senses away from me. I was not intending on getting drunk at all that night, especially when I was surrounded by people I did not know.

Adjusting my dress, I went to stand by an open window. The night was cool, and it kissed my skin so delicately that I could not bear to step away. I was enchanted, in more ways than one. No matter how long I basked in it, it was impossible to get over the magical qualities of the castle.

A hand suddenly reached for my back, winding around as its owner stepped around to face me. He was wearing generic dress robes, with a purple and silver tie, and a matching mask. His hair was blonde, and ruffled behind the extending corners of the mask. His eyes were glossy and brown. If I didn’t know any better, I would have guessed that he completely out of it.

“Would you like to dance?” His voice was deep — almost chilling. His hand was extended forward, and it looked unfamiliar.

Unintentionally, I scanned the crowd, although I wasn’t sure what it was that I was looking for.

Before I knew it, I turned back to him, and nodded with a smile. He smiled back before he led me to the middle of the dance floor. We joined the handful of couples that had mustered up the courage to find a partner for the night.

I could not blame the rest.

There was something nerve-wracking about being surrounded by strangers.

“Your eyes are glossy.” He commented.

“So are yours.” I replied.

My own voice surprised me. It was unnaturally high. I did not sound like myself, and I’m sure he didn’t either.

“Are your eyes naturally grey?” he questioned.

I shook my head. “No… strange. Are yours naturally brown?”

He shook his head. “They really went all out with this Masquerade ball.” He twirled me, and I complied. “Although I must admit, it makes everything more magical.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“So what house are you in?” he asked suddenly.

I frowned, unsure of whether or not I should disclose that information. “I don’t know why it should matter.”

He shrugged. “I just don’t want to ma —”

Anything he said beyond that went in one ear and out the other. At that moment, my eyes landed on a boy with dark brown hair, and piercing grey eyes. His hands were tucked into the pocket of his trousers, and there was an… interesting look on his face. The entire left side of his face, including his eyes, was covered with thin, black material, leaving his lips, nose and right cheek uncovered. He was clad in a plain, light grey dress shirt, and a black vest.

He was… captivating, and yet, I did not even know who he was.

I noticed his eyes following mine. As I twirled and pranced around the dance floor, my eyes would always return to his, and I would find him staring right back. His lips were slightly curved, in a manner that I could not entirely distinguish. I reckoned it was his lips that captivated me the most. The way it curved slightly in an almost inviting way.

I could not take my eyes off him.

“Do you mind if I step in?” A tall, lanky boy, dressed in red and black robes, stole my attention. “I think you’ve danced with her long enough.”

The flash of irritation swept through my previous dance partners’ eyes. Nevertheless, he released my hand, and calmly walked away.

The way boys just passed girls from one to the other is beyond me.

My new dance partner immediately took my hand in his, and began leading me in a robot-like movement. I was, to say the least, uncomfortable. His arms never moved, and his feet repeated a constant pattern that made me feel as though I was running in circles. His eyes were glued to mine, and I could not help but notice how his were emptier than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.

“You’re very beautiful.” Was the first thing he said that night.

I smiled appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“I wish I could know who you really are.”

Once again, against my will, my eyes landed on the mysterious boy I was previously staring at. He was, this time, leaning against the wall, near the open window I approached earlier that evening. His attention, however, was not directed outside the castle. Instead, and forgive me if I am wrong, it was directed in my direction. He was still staring at me — looking at me with piercing eyes. I could almost feel the holes burning into my body, and I couldn’t deny the discomfort I felt under his gaze. I found myself wondering what he found so interesting. The magic was surrounding us, and I was definitely not the source. His attention should be captured by the instrument-less music that is coming out of thin air, or even the endless array of falling glitter that seems to disappear every time it makes contact with skin. The indoor moonlight perhaps, or the dimmed torch lights that never flickered, even against the wind. Yet, his eyes were still glued to mine, making it impossible for me to focus on anything else but the grey pigment that had captivated me so.

“I wish I could know who half the people in this room are.” I responded, realizing that my partner has been waiting for an answer. I tore my eyes away from Mr. Mysterious, and turned my attention back to my partner. It was only polite to do so.

“You could tell me your name.” He suggested.

“That would just take the fun out of everything, now wouldn’t it?”

“Doesn’t it bother you that you don’t know who you are dancing with?

I shrugged. “I guess that’s the point of the entire night, isn’t it?”

“You’re brave.”

“I’m just practical.”

More and more students paired up and filled the dance floor. The music was still slow and steady, creating a natural and pleasant rhythm for everyone to follow along to. Everyone except my partner that is, who seemed almost incapable of leading in a different direction, other than I bloody circles. I grew dizzy, and I needed a drink.

Not realizing it at first, my mind wandered off to Potter. My eyes scanned the room, and I dipped into my own bowl of curiosity, searching for that familiar head of messy, jet black hair. I wasn’t sure if the magic would have impaired his appearance as well — it probably did, I was just being hopeful — but I still continued searching. I wondered what type of girl he could have possibly been dancing with.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the only girl wearing a dress that fell around her thighs. She was dancing with a tall, overly enthusiastic bloke, with shaggy brown hair and broad shoulders. I rolled my eyes and thought ‘That must be Potter.’ If I just so happened to be wrong, then I was almost one-hundred-percent positive that Potter was lurking about somewhere close, waiting to get his turn.

“She’ll probably just be another bloody notch on his backboard…” I muttered to myself unknowingly.


My head snapped back into place as my eyes returned to my partner’s. “Sorry,” I apologized, and dropped my gaze. “Just mumbling to myself…”

The boy sighed. “You’re prettier than she, did you know?”

Surprised, I lifted my head and looked at him once more. His eyes were boring into mine. “What are you on about?”

“You.” He replied simply. “Although half your face is hidden, you’re much prettier than she. There’s nothing beautiful about a girl who walks around wearing almost nothing.”

“How… I’m not comparing our… prettiness.”

The corner of his lips curved slightly. “If you say so.” I watched carefully as his eyes traveled back to the girl. Her dress was a light shade of green, hugging her hips in an almost painful looking manner. “I wonder what those boys over there would do if she were a Gryffindor…”

Confused, I asked, “Why?”

The boy shrugged. “They might just see her differently if she was… They would definitely not be looking at her like she was a piece of meat.”

His words sounded strangely familiar, as we stood there and started swaying on the spot. I recalled a similar conversation in the past, except it was between… Potter — between Potter and I. “And why do you say that…?” Suddenly, he smirked. He smirked knowingly, and the smirk was strangely… familiar.

“There’s this unspoken rule for men that practically puts Gryffindor girls in the ‘untouchable’ zone. They’re datable, but there’s only a handful of us here in Hogwarts that would be able to shag-and-dump a Gryffindor without getting pissed at by her friends, beaten up by her boy-friends, or drowning in our own guilt.”

I blinked, suddenly rethinking my previous assumptions. Could it be, that this was Potter I had been dancing with? “And do all boys think this way? In Hogwarts, at least.”

He did a half shrug, half nod. “You could say so. Like I said, there are only a handful who are an exception to that rule. A handful, simply do not give a shit. And the rest of the Hogwarts population are too young to even be thinking about shagging in a broom closet.”

From then on, I scrutinized his every move. I mentally tried to match his movements and words with Potters’. There were times when he’d open his mouth once more, and I would suddenly hear Potters’ voice, instead of his. It was as if the words had come right out of Potters’ mouth, instead of this strangers’. The way he cursed, the way his upper teeth slightly grazed his bottom lip upon saying my name, and the way he occasionally ruffled his hair when he was embarrassed or shy.

Other times, he would pull stunts, that were usually sweet, such as offering pleasant smiles of reassurance, and reminding me just how beautiful I looked, which were things that Potter would have never done in a million years.

“You remind me of someone…” I started, as we walked off the dance floor. “It’s strange, you know. To find someone in a lot of unfamiliar faces… in this sort of manner.”

“Oh?” he piped up. “Who exactly do I remind you of?” his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lips.

I gulped, unintentionally.

Out of habit, and due to the discomfort of nervousness rousing in the pit of my stomach, my eyes left his and scanned my surroundings. He slowly led me to the set of drinks laid out on the long table, while my attention was captured by anything but him.

I noticed a masked couple loitering around the entrance. The girl was pressed up against the doorway, while the boy, with his palm pressed up against the wall beside her head, chatted her up. Not far from them, were a bunch of girls, lined up against the wall. A sense of sympathy caused my expression to falter once I realized that the lot of them was standing there because they were shit out of luck in finding a partner.

After handing me a drink, and seemingly, forgetting that he had even asked me a question, Mr. Nameless looked up and followed my gaze.

“Look at these wankers.” He mumbled, loud enough for me to hear. I turned to him, and he nodded towards a group of boys practically drooling over the girl from earlier that night — the one wearing a green dress. “There’s a line of girls for their taking, and they stand their, fawning over an overrated chick.”

I almost snorted into my drink.

By then, the stench of alcohol was strong enough to fill my nostrils before even taking a sip. The familiar smell was not as appealing to me as it normally would have been.

Before I could reply, or think of something else to say, Mr. Nameless was already halfway across the Great Hall, and headed for the line of partner-less girls. At first, his intentions confused me. But once he bowed slightly, and extended his right hand towards a short, stout, girl, who dressed in a bright yellow dress, I smiled. He was such a… gentleman — a bloody, downright, sweetheart. On the way to the dance floor, with the girl now hanging on his arm, he, surprisingly, turned back to me, and sent me a wink, followed by a large smile.

I watched from the sidelines as he twirled the now smiling and laughing girl around on the dance floor. I mentally promised to save him one last dance before the night was over.

“I think we know who the award for best charity case goes to.”

A chill clawed its way down my spine, followed by an inward shiver. The deep and chiseled voice that had just entered my ear caused chills, shivers, and an inevitable skipped heartbeat.

Turning, I caught sigh of Mr. Mysterious standing beside me, leaning against the protruding wall beside the corner of the window. The corner of his lips rose slightly at my sudden movement.

He looked, or at least the visible part of his face, looked more handsome up close.

“Your… friend over there.” He flicked his head over to my previous dance partner. “His patience must be mighty long to be able to bravely approach that line of girls.”

At that moment, I found myself disappointed. He was taking a piss on pitiful girls. But of course, how could I expect anything different. Someone as beautiful as he — of course, how could I have expected him to be anything but an arsehole.

“It’s a nice thing, what he’s doing.” I answered coldly. “Maybe you should try being a gentleman like him.”

He chuckled suavely, and rubbed his hand over his chin. “There’s a reason those girls are lined up against that wall alone.”

“Yeah, because the boys in this school are utter, and stupid pricks, who would rather shag a piece of ass, than a girl of quality.” I snapped angrily.

“Well… I must admit,” his eyes met mine, and he smirked. With his hand still in his pockets, he slowly approached me. My eyes were glued to his lips — the way it curved — it was just so bloody mesmerizing. His eyes stayed glued to mine, and an air of confidence mixed with a hint of arrogance surrounded him. He leant down, closer to my face, and whispered, “I do like a girl of quality,” before stalking off into the crowd.

I caught a whiff of his scent, and I frowned, after you know — floating onto cloud nine for a bit. It was too familiar… way too familiar. I couldn’t get my hands on it, but I knew I had smelled it before.

Mr. Mysterious then approached a similar looking boy. He was just as tall, and just as… handsome. A strip of black cloth covered his eyes, and his lips curved only slightly, in comparison to his friend. I frowned. The two stood there, discussing something for a while, before the friend approached the line of girls, and Mr. Mysterious delved deeper into the crowd.

At that moment, I was starting to get annoyed with the fact that I did not know who anyone was. I didn’t even have my best friends for support… I was bloody standing here alone, left to question not only their identities, but also their motives.

What the bloody fuck was going on?

Soon, I spotted Mr. Mysterious once more. He was now dancing with a girl I’ve never seen. She was wearing a purple gown, with a silver mask. Her curly brown hair was twisted into some sort of up-do, and various strands fell around her face. She wasn’t smiling, and neither was he. There was a… knowing look plastered on both their faces, and it made me wonder whether or not they knew whom they were dancing with.

A girl approaching the table came into view. After a glance, I thought it could have been Layla. Their bodies were similar, and the freckles on her nose looked awfully familiar. The flaming red hair would be the only difference.

“Having fun?” I asked, striking a conversation with the unnamed girl.

I still haven’t gotten used to my voice. Each time I opened my mouth to say something, there was always a part of me that, even for a split second, thought that someone else was speaking.

She picked up a glass, and downed its contents. “Oh, you know it.” She replied in a voice that was dripping with sarcasm. “They went a little bit overboard, the school did. We’re all basically flying solo tonight.”

“Not even a girlfriend for moral support.” I added in agreement.

“So did he get to you too?” she asked, as she placed her glass back on the table, only for it to refill itself. She picked it up again, and this time, she drank slowly.

I drank the remaining liquid sitting on the bottom. “Who?” I asked.

She pointed to Mr. Mysterious, who was still dancing with, who I will now call, Miss. Mysterious, all the way across the hall. “He’s been… claiming girls all night, with just one look.”

“I honestly would not expect anything different from him…” I trailed off.

“I certainly pray that he’s not a Weasley… or a Potter for that matter.” She said quietly.

I blinked, catching her words off guard. I turned swiftly, with wide eyes.

One of her arms was crossed across her waist, while her other elbow was balanced close to her wrist as she held the glass close to her lips.

“Lily?” I asked, incredulously.

Her eyes darted to mine, looking just as surprised. “What?” she asked quickly. “Who are you?”


The happiness I felt at that moment was beyond rainbows, sunshine’s and unicorns. I now had an ally. I had a bloody ally, and I was no longer alone. Win.

She let out a sigh of relief and pressed a hand to her bare chest. “Vicky, thank Merlin I found you. I was almost positive that I would have some sort of mental breakdown by the time the night was over.” She said. “Once I realized the enchantments we were put under, I was scared to death that I would end up coming across family.”

“Lils, I think every male in your family has adapted distinct behavior over the years that you would not be able to overlook, no matter how different their appearance may be.”

“Right you are, Vicky, but I’m still a little bit worried. I felt like I spotted James and Hugo countless of times, but each time, it’s a different boy. I felt like I was losing my mind for a moment.”

I thought for a moment while my eyes began to wander on their own accord. “Either you’re losing your mind…” For the second time that night, my eyes landed on Mr. Mysterious. Surprisingly, his eyes were already on mine. I jumped inwardly, and diverted my eyes back to Lily. “Or Potter is plotting something.”

“I always like to choose the latter.” She responded. “It always makes me feel better about myself, and not to mention, it always ends up being the explanation for anything and everything that goes on around here.”

“I say we investigate, don’t you Lillers?”

With a sly smirk, she placed her glass back down on the table, and turned back to me. “Right you are, Vicky.”

James Potter

I must say, that for once in their lives, the staff did an excellent job with this one. The entire idea was clever. I initially expected the simplistic idea of hiding behind a mask, but this, this was perfect. As I stared straight at my previous appearance as if I was looking into a mirror, I could not help but inwardly praise the cleverness behind the evening. It simply made my night a whole lot more fun.

“Al...” I looked down at my appearance, grinning as I noticed the change in body-bulk. “Al, this is bloody insane.” Lifting my head, I looked into a pair of grey eyes that previously belonged to me. My brothers’ eyes were twinkling with mischief, and I knew that we were floating in similar waters.

“This is bloody stupid.” His eyes betrayed him, along with the shadow of a smirk creeping onto his lips. “This is… incredibly stupid.”

As we stepped away from the entrance, I rolled my eyes. “Al, would you stop pretending to be some goody two-shoe for about two seconds, and actually enjoy this? We can be with anyone we want to for the rest of the night — the best part: whatever we do tonight won’t even matter tomorrow morning.”

The smirk Al was trying so bloody hard to hide could no longer stay hidden. The corner of his lips curled, and he turned his head to scan the crowd. I could almost imagine the kind of damage he was plotting in his head… He was after all, a Potter.

Following Al, I turned back to the crowd. The girl in red, Al’s initial partner, crept up from the back of my mind, and I, surprisingly, found myself looking for her. I supposed I had more reasons behind my excitement than I let on. It wasn’t until I found her in the crowd once more, when I finally realized it. Even after the first time I saw her that night, I was not aware of my exponentially rising interest.

Looking back, my interest in a beautiful girl — a stranger, no less — was extremely cliché and it sounded like I recited a page straight from some muggle fairytale. Cinderella, or was it Beauty and the… bullocks, whatever the fuck it was, the bottom line: it was all one big cliché.

Yet, I could not help but follow her across the hall, just like I did when she was dancing with Al.

“And who would have ever guessed that all it took was simultaneously stepping through the threshold…” Albus trailed off, sounding equally impressed.

I shook my head in attempts to shove the mystery girl out of my head. “So, little brother,” I slung my arm over his shoulder in a big-brotherly manner. “We have to start somewhere, don’t we? I think I saw you talking to some girl earlier… did you get a name?”

All right, so I guess I just could not help myself.

He shook his head. “She was careful with her name. But the last I saw her was over there by the windows. She’s wearing red.”

I pretended to look over by the windows, knowing fully well that she was not there, but in fact, she was now near the front of the Great Hall, lounging on a chair by the band. “I don’t see anyone.”

“She’s wearing a deep… almost champagne colored gown. You can’t miss her, brother.” Albus clapped his hand on my back, while a girl who was standing not ten feet away from us stole the majority of his attention. “Be warned,” he added, turning back to me. “I think she’s a Gryffindor.”

I almost snorted.

The unspoken — even though it’s been spoken of many, many times — rule of all Hogwarts’ males: never fuck around with a Gryffindor girl, unless you don’t mind dying.

It was actually rather unfortunate… Gryffindors are fun.

Al was gone before I could even think of a response. His legs worked quick, seeing as he was already standing in front of the girl, holding out his hand with a smile on his face, looking like a bloody idiot.

The music changed, and I took this as a cue. Without having to flitter through the crowd, I spotted her quickly. The deep red curved around her body caught my eye instantaneously, and I almost grinned, despite myself. Almost.

“You look more lonely than you should.” I began once I reached her.

“Ah,” she smiled, turning to me. “Well, some bloke left me to dance with a less fortunate girl.” She looked away and shrugged. “I don’t blame him though. I thought it was a pretty sweet gesture.”

Definitely not a Slytherin.

Definitely not.

“Well that’s me,” I grinned cheekily. “Sweet as honey.”

She gave me a strange look. The corner of her lips rose, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

Ravenclaw was definitely a possibility.

“So what happened to the girl you were dancing with?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Passed her on to some bloke.”

She frowned. “You talk as if she’s shortening blunt.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “He seemed interested, so why not?”

“I rest my case.”

Hufflepuff, perhaps?

Please, dear Lord, dear Merlin, please don’t let this girl be a Weasley or a Potter.

“Is that disappointment I hear?”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “Just… I’m still trying to figure you out.”

“It’s rather difficult trying to figure someone out if you don’t know who they are.”

“Yes, for all I know, you could be my best friend’s, boyfriend’s, ex-girlfriend’s, brother’s, nemesis.”

I’m leaning more towards Ravenclaw.

“For all you know, I could be your nemesis.” I raised my eyebrows thoughtfully.

Abruptly, she retracted her playful demeanor, as she suddenly looked uncomfortable under my gaze. She glanced in my direction, but looked away quickly. “I’ve thought about it.” She admitted quietly. “Like I said,” from behind the mask, her eyes flickered towards me once more. “I’m still trying to figure you out.”

I wasn’t sure why, but I couldn’t stop the smirk forming on my lips. “How’s that going?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. “I’ll let you know when I get somewhere.” The playful smile simmering on her lips was enchanting. The plump redness drew me in, and I, unknowing, found myself staring. “I suppose you’re still curious as to who I am?” her tone was hopeful and playful at the same time.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re still here, chatting me up.”

“I am not chatting you up.”

“We’re bordering small talk and wholesome conversations here.” She grinned.

I shrugged. “I suppose I’m just more into a girl of quality.”

She blinked. Her long eyelashes fluttered behind the lace of her mask, and I continued staring — again. “You can’t judge my quality yet. You don’t know me.”

“Which is why I am still sticking around.”

For a while, her face remained expressionless. She stared at me, with large eyes, and chewed on her bottom lip. Moments later, she parted her lips into an inviting smile.

I was sold.


I’m going mad. I’m going bonkers. I’m losing my fucking mind.

“You can’t honestly tell me that you prefer the Tornado’s over the Bats! I’ll admit, the Tornado’s had their time — yes, they wore the bloody crown of Quidditch, but they were completely out of line! Did you read the Quibbler?” She asked, sounding more defensive than necessary. “They tortured and tampered with their brooms just to gain their title!”

I rolled my eyes in an exasperated manner, even though I found the entire conversation enjoyable and amusing. “Women!” I exclaimed.

An indignant smile formed on her face. “Excused me?” She laughed.

“That’s all women look at! They don’t care about their technique, or their ability to play. All that matters to them is that they blackmailed their way to the top.”

“Well it’s true! How are you so sure that they’re the best if they’ve never played a game based on their pure talent?”

I shook my head, chuckling, and said, “Have you watched their matches? One day, I’ll show you. You will be amazed once you look past their public appearance.”

“You have all their matches?”

All of them.”

She looked as though she was in awe. “I can’t tell if you’re a dedicated player, or if you’re just obsessed with men, strapped in Quidditch gear, while they ride around on broomsticks.”

“Well if we’re going to base the teams on that…” I laughed. “The Harpies look like a fine team.”

For the past twenty minutes, we’ve been discussing pro-Quidditch teams nonstop. I learned that she preferred the Ballycastle Bats, even though she was absolutely crazy for Puddlemere United’s Seeker, Benjy Williams.

I’ve never found a girl — a girl I connected with — who shared my love for Quidditch. Of course, my family did not and will never count. I’ve had several conversations with Lily, Roxy and Dom concerning Quidditch, but a girl — a girl who actually knew the sport… I never realized how incredibly sexy it was until that moment.

The worst part of the entire ordeal: This mystery girl may just be Victoria.

The best part — that is of course, if this girl really was Victoria: Just for that night, I didn’t have to be the same James Potter she knows and hates. For the next couple of hours, there was no Victoria and James. There were no enemies, just two strangers meeting each other for the first time.

“Most hated team?” I asked curiously.

“Definitely those bloody Wanderers… But then again, the Wasps are pretty terrible as well.”

I’m in love. I am bloody fucking in love and I regretted nothing. I didn’t care whoever it was sitting behind that lacey mask. She could be a bloody Slytherin for all it mattered. This girl was amazing.

“Did you see the Wanderers V. Canons? The Chaser threw the quidditch into his own bloody goal post, and then proceeded to ram right into the hoop.”

A loud laugh rumbled through my chest. “It’s a wonder how they were ever accepted into the league.”

“You play, don’t you?” She asked, before her eyes flickered forwards and away from me.

“Do I look like I play?”

“You sound like you do.”

I shrugged. I was determined to maintain my cool and mysterious exterior. “Anyone can know and talk Quidditch. The ability to play, however, is something completely different.”

She moved her lips thoughtfully as her eyes flickered to mine. “This narrows things down a bit then.” she said. “You’re a… Slytherin?”

“I —”

“— No that’s not right. I think I’ll go with either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.”

I smiled at her. “So you’re mentally playing this little matching game in your head as well?”

She shrugged, and I could tell that she forced away a smile. “What have I come down to? Ravenclaw and Slytherin I suppose?”

“Are you insinuating that you’re in either of the two houses?”

Again, she shrugged. “I’m not saying anything, baby,” was her playful answer. A small smile played on her lips before she turned away from me and spaced out once more.

“I think I’ve decided on Gryffindor.”

She was so much like her… It was uncanny.

The next few seconds proved her surprise. Her eyes widened, and a small quirky smile replaced her genuine one. “Really?” she questioned in a high-pitched voice.

“Am I wrong?”

“It’s just that… No one really pegs me for a Gryffindor. It’s always either a Slytherin or Ravenclaw.”

“So I am wrong.”

Her shoulders heaved into a shrug. I was starting to get annoyed with this whole evasive act we were both playing. Suddenly, her eyes darted across the room. Something else seemed to have stolen her attention for about the sixth time that night.

“You seem distracted.” I pointed out.

“I’ll…” She offered me an apologetic look as she took a step forward. “Could you wait a moment? I’ll be right back.”

Something told me that she wouldn’t.

Before she managed to get very far, I called out, “Hang on! Could I at least get a name?”

“I’ll be right back!” She replied.

With an angry huffed, I collapsed on a chair, sat, and waited. Within the first half hour of a civilized conversation, she was already doing a damn good job at pissing me off. Perhaps she really was Vicky.

Victoria Rose

Luck was never on my side. Ever since I was a child, luck simply never strolled down my street, not even to wave a simple ‘hi’. Thus, spontaneous and impulsive decisions never worked out, and will never work out for me. The situation always turned out messy, and complicated; and messy and complicated was not my thing.

This made me wonder why I was still stupid enough to impulsively walk away from my partner for the night, and follow Mr. Mysterious out of the Great Hall.

It was a spur of the moment thing. A whim, I suppose.

After watching him recklessly flirt with another girl wearing a short dress, overlooking the similarities between Potter and him became increasingly difficult. They shared that same stupid, foolish smirk; despite the fact that their appearances were completely different, their essences were similar. So I went for it. Well — more like the arrow went for it. Before I could even conjure a clear, coherent thought, I found myself excusing my presence and making way for the exit. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do, or what I was going to say once I reached him. At that moment, all I could do was follow.

He didn’t get very far before my quickened steps caught up with his slow pace and long strides. In fact, he only got as far as the large double doors that passed as the entrance to the Castle. Before he was aware of my presence, he pulled out a small box of what looked to be magic-cigarettes.

At that moment, I paused.

He pulled out a long, white stick, brought it to his lips, and lit it with the tip of his wand. The scent engulfed me the moment he took the first drag and released the fumes. It was strong, and overwhelming. It wasn’t the kind Dom and I caught Potter with a few months back.

Suddenly, I found myself staring at Mr. Mysterious’ outstretched hand. The carton of cigarettes was in between his fingers, waiting to be lit. “Want one?” he offered casually, as if my presence was not unusual at all.

“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.” I answered, taking a step forward.

He shrugged while retracting his hand. “It’s magical. It’s safe, and it doesn’t bring forth addiction.”

“Then why smoke?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

“It’s satisfying, and stress relieving, I suppose.”

I laughed bitterly. “Is there never a sure answer for anything anymore?”

The corners of his lips rose into a smile, and he turned to look at me. “I take it you didn’t follow me out here to reject a cig and create small talk.”

“You get right to the point, don’t you?”

“This enchanted evening of ours is limited, unfortunately.”

“Who are you?” I asked, ignoring his previous comment.

“You’re not the only one who wants to know.”

“I’m the only one asking.”

“Do you have an idea?”


“Enlighten me.”

“You’re either a Potter or a Weasley.”

He smirked knowingly. “I’m both actually.”

Before I could even comprehend his response, he reached out, grabbed my waist, pulled me forward, and pressed his lips to mine. I elicited a surprised gasp before his lips crashed onto mine. The kiss was as spontaneous as my sudden absence from the great hall. The softness of his lips surprised me, along with the tenderness in his actions. His tongue merely grazed my bottom lip, instead of prodding its way inside and into my core. The kiss was passionate, yes, but it was missing the heat and the aggressiveness.

This… this was…

I was slightly breathless when we parted. Breathless, and not to mention, confused. His chest was heaving as well, while his eyebrows furrowed.

Tentatively, I reached up and grasped the corners of his mask questioningly; hesitantly. After a moment or two passed without a complaint so I pulled the fabric from his eyes.

He definitely wasn’t Potter.

No — scratch that.

This was a Potter all right, but it wasn’t the Potter I’ve been hoping for.

“Shit.” We cursed in unison.

A/N: sorry for the super long wait! i think it's been about a month since my last update ): i've been super busy with school & now that vacation is coming up, i have more time on my hands! hopefully. i'll try to update faster!

their night at the ball isn't over yet :) there's still part two, which is basically how the rest of the night unfolds.

any thoughts, comments, suggestions? leave a review! :)

Chapter 19: Snogging Siblings and Greenapple Whiskey
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Nineteen

Victoria Rose

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Albus cursed as he shoved me away from him. I felt the mask whisking away from my face, and he cursed even louder. “Shit!”

“Cursing won’t help anything, Al.” I snapped, equally annoyed. “Merlin, what the bloody hell were we thinking?”

“I thought you were Ginger!” He exclaimed resentfully. “You both sound the same! Why do both of you sound the same?”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought you were your brother! You know, you two are more similar than you think. Bloody hell, what is Ginger going to think?” I began pacing while I ran my hands over my face.

“Ginger?” Al exclaimed. “You’re worried about Ginger? What’s James going to think? No — what’s James going to do? My brother doesn’t think. He acts, and fucking hell, he’s going to beat me into a bloody pulp before I can even begin to explain how nothing happened.”

The thought of James made my stomach flip unpleasantly. “Po — James won’t think anything of it…”

He gave me a look of disbelief. “Are you bloody serious? He’s going to chop my head off, charm it onto a plaque, and hang it in his bedroom. I just snogged his girl for crying out loud! He’s more territorial than a bloody mutt.”

“It’s okay.” I reassured him. “It’s okay, because he doesn’t have to know. Neither of them need to know. So what? We snogged. But it was an accident, and it meant nothing! So we don’t have to tell them anything.”

Slowly but surely, he began nodding. “You’re… you’re right. We don’t have to tell them anything.”

I nodded as well in agreement. "Absolutely nothing." I repeated. "We did not do anything wrong. It was a completely innocent and accidental kiss."

"Innocent and accidental huh?" The sudden, unfamiliar voice surprised me. Albus and I whipped around immediately, only to set eyes on Amelie.

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath.

Amelie, clad in a glittering, gold gown, stepped forward with her lips arched into a devious smirk. "You know, Victoria, I never took you for the cheating type." she commented, taking another step closer. "And Albus," she began shaking her head whilst clicking her tongue. "What would Ginger think? You were supposed to be the good Potter." Her words were dripping with disappointment, but her eyes were glistening with mischief. "I am extremely," The smirk on her lips widened and she took another step forward. Her hands were clasped together in front of her in a fake, innocent manner. "disappointed," another step. "in you." The smirk on her lips broke out into a full on grin.

"Amelie — "

Just when I thought she was finished, she turned to me and gasped. "And Victoria!" she exclaimed. The grin on her face disappeared and was replaced with a look of pure astonishment. "James will be heartbroken. Two girlfriends in a row just cheated on him... And what's worse, it was with his enemy, and his little brother."

"Do you make being a conniving little bitch a habit, or does it just come naturally for you?" I spat, the corner of my lip curling into a sneer. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Came out for a smoke, just like Albus here." she smirked. "James always loved coming out for a cigarette together." she commented nostalgically. “Although, I didn’t know we shared such a dirty little habit, Albus. Does your girlfriend know what you’ve been doing behind her back?”

I rolled my eyes, and Albus ignored her. "That's great, Amelie, but nothing happened. So don't go running to the entire school with your big mouth."

The smirk reappeared as she rocked herself on her heels. "We'll see about that, Vicky." Before I could get another word in, she turned around, and left us to listen to the retreating sounds of her heels clicking against the stone floor.

"We better get back in there before anyone else see us." Albus suggested. He placed his hand on the small of my back and began leading me back towards the entrance of the Great Hall. "Hopefully James won't have a fit when he finds out." his voice sounded a little fearful.

"When he finds out?"

"It's Amelie we're talking about. Do you really think she's not going to jump at this opportunity? She'll probably tell James and hope that he'll be stupid enough to go running back to her." Albus was right. How could I even expect anything different?

We managed to catch up to Amelie, who was standing at the entrance dusting herself off.

"Brace yourself, Victoria." Amelie said with a smirk just as we re-entered the Great Hall. "You're in for a storm."

Feeling incredibly pissed off, and slightly more anxious than I would have hoped. We stepped through the threshold together, and the semi-familiar feeling of cloth whisking around my face returned.

I felt as though I was drugged. The last thing I remember was running out of the Great Hall and going after Mr. Mysterious, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in the entrance of the Great Hall once again, looking over the crowd. If anything happened between my exit, and my return, then the memory completely escaped me.

Still confused, I planted myself on one of the empty seats that were turned away from the empty round tables. I felt guilty, and I didn't even know why. Not to mention, Potter still relentlessly plagued my thoughts, and no matter what I told myself, I couldn't deny the fact that I had been searching for him all night. My memories from my exit to my return — if there were any at all — were completely gone, leaving me to wonder if I managed to unmask Mr. Mysterious. My deepest desires — fake, or not — could have been satisfied, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember.

This ball, and the staff's effort to keep all our identities masked were beginning to really piss me off.

Abruptly, someone plopped down on the empty seat beside me. I turned to him, expecting to face the boy I had spent the majority of my night with. To my surprise, it was a stranger.

To my delight, he looked as equally annoyed as I was.

"Not having fun?" I asked, striking a conversation.

"How can you tell?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain. "I suddenly really wish they just stuck with old school masks. Even though they don't completely hide one's identity, it's a lot better than this."

"Tell me about it." I replied exasperatedly.

"I take it that you're not having a good time either, huh?"

"Not exactly."

"What are you doing sitting here all on your lonesome?"

I huffed, annoyed. "Followed some bloke outside, and now I cant remember what happened after that."

The boy chuckled, amused. "It's incredibly ironic that the staff is making date raping a lot easier than it should be in a school of magic."

Surprised, and now slightly afraid, I turned to him with wide eyes. "That's not something you should joke about!" I exclaimed. "I'm a little frightened now to be honest..."

He laughed again. "Don't worry. I’m sure you would have felt violated in some way if that were true, even if you don't remember it."

I laughed and let the matter rest. "How about you?"

"Me... Well," he chuckled bitterly. "I met a girl, who I believe to be this — let's call her an... Acquaintance — and now..." he paused with a small laugh. "And now I'm going insane."

I nodded, understanding. "Must be some girl."

His nose scrunched up with distaste, and he shook his head with a laugh. "I wouldn’t be going crazy if she was."

My eyebrows knitted with confusion. "I don't understand. Why are you going crazy over this girl then?"

"I'd love to know why as well." he replied. "It's a mystery to me. Merlin I want to rip my eyes out every time I look at her."

"Ah that love and hate feeling?" I asked, my mind wandering back to Potter. "I know it well."

"How do you make it go away?" his voice turned soft, almost chilling.

"You don't."

"That's incredibly comforting." he replied sarcastically. "I just learned that I’m in for a lifetime of insanity."

"A lifetime of insanity..." I repeated. "I wouldn't exactly say a lifetime... Unless of course you happen to be in love with this girl."

"In love?" he asked, shocked. "Not even close. But In the future, who knows... I'm already going down that road. That is, if this feeling remains."

"So you may... Potentially love her, correct?"

"I refuse to agree with you, only because you make it sound so horrible."

I laughed loudly, and sat back. "So you potentially love her." I stated.

"Let's leave it at I may potentially fancy her." he corrected. "It sounds a lot better, and a lot less terrifying."

I rolled my eyes. "Boys. They're all so afraid of feeling things."

"You'd be surprised how many girls are just the same."

I suddenly remembered everything Potter ever accused me of.

"I suppose you’re not the only one who thinks that." I replied with more sadness in my voice than I intended.

Realizing that the conversation became too serious for two strangers, I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. "So.. I hear we're all going to be unmasked at midnight." I began, changing the subject. "Hopefully our memories come back."

"Don't you want to know who your mystery man is?" he asked.

"And how about you? Don't you want to know who that girl is? By what you told me, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to a complete stranger. I'd be out there," I pointed to the crowd of students that filled the Great Hall. "looking for her."

"Well, we have about ten minutes before midnight." he said after glancing at the large clock situated in the front of the Great Hall. "How about a dance? I haven't had a dance all night. It'll be... Thanks for keeping each other company after a night of misfortunes." he stood up, and held out his hand like a gentleman.

Without hesitation, I accepted his offer and placed my hand in his. "I wouldn't exactly call your discovery of lo — sorry, discovery of fancy — a misfortune." I said. "Some would see it as a fortunate outcome."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew who she was."

"Tell me about her." I said as he led us to the dance floor.

Again, he scrunched up his nose. "She's... small." he answered.

I gave him a look. "That's all you have to say? She's small?"

"She's... Irritating." he added. In a few short moments, he had me in his arms, and was now leading me across the dance floor. "To be completely honest, I don't know how I'm supposed to describe her." he said. "She's a little school girl who, at times, can't tell the difference between her left and right shoe."

"Is that really all you have to say?" I asked. "Why do you fancy her then if she's foolish and annoying?"


"Let me guess, she's gorgeous and has a body beautiful enough for you to ignore everything else?"

"I was going to say that she's funny. And insightful, and don't get me wrong, she's beautiful too, but that's not all that's important."

As I opened my mouth to ask another question, McGonagall stepped to the front of the Great Hall with a wand pointed to her throat. "Attention, everyone! Attention!" The music immediately stopped, and the students' chatter and murmurs fell silent. "It is almost midnight!" she announced excitedly. "The enchantments placed upon your identities will be removed one the clock strikes twelve, and your the memories that have been taken from you, all of which, are lingering above us," she pointed to the ceiling, and I gasped. I couldn't believe I never noticed it before. Indeed, there were countless of slivers of memories floating about, as if I was staring into an upside down pensive. It was like a cloud of memories, teasing us to no end. "Will be returned immediately. After midnight, those who wish to return to their dorm may do so. All those who wish to stay, and continue the nights' festivities, are welcomed to stay. Enjoy the rest of your night!"

"So what's wrong with her?" I asked, unable to overlook my insatiable curiosity before our inevitable departure. The silenced song resumed, but it was coming to a halt. "What makes this night of yours so unfortunate?"

The music finally slowed, and so did we. Our bodies retracted as we parted. "I happen to dislike her immensely, and she happens to hate me right back. Not to mention, she's my best mates' best friend."

Hang on... It couldn't possibly be... Could it? Surely that situation is as common as Harry Potter's face behind chocolate frogs' packages. Surely that couldn't have been Potter... No. This stranger fancied his best mates' best friend. Potter, Potter didn't — would never, could never, fancy me. After all, I was annoying, irritating, and I — according to Potter — am the ice queen.

“Do you happen to know where she is?” I was a little breathless out of confusion. I wanted so badly to ask for his name, his house, or anything that could possibly give me a clue of his identity. At first, his name wasn’t of any importance. We were just two strangers brought together by a series of unfortunate events, and there would be no further interaction for the rest of the night. “It’s a bit difficult searching for someone in a crowd full of masks.”

“It’s a little bit hard to miss her.” he answered, his eyes roaming the hall. “She must be the only one wearing a dark red gown.”

“Uh… I’m —“ I looked down at my attire in the midst of attempting to point out that I was, in fact, wearing red too. But as my eyes landed on my body, I realized that I was no longer wearing the deep red gown I initially chose for the night. The red was replaced with a shiny, material that hugged my body tighter than my previous gown. My hands reached for my mask, and the once laced material suddenly felt like satin beneath my fingers. My hair, that was once in an up-do, now cascaded down my back in large ringlets.

“My... my appearance changed.” I stated apprehensively.

“That tends to happen when you step through the entrance with someone.” He answered impatiently.

I didn’t blame him. He was running out of time.


The ten-second countdown began. Every face in the Great Hall turned to the large, teasing clock, situated in the front of the hall. Their faces were expectant, and almost anxious. It reminded me of the New Years Eve parties Potter always hosted. The crowd would count down — 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, and so on — until the minute hand struck twelve. Hands would clap and lips would kiss. But this, this was not a countdown for a New Year. It was a countdown for knowledge. Masks would fall, and their partners’ identities may either meet the others’ expectations, or it may lead to utter disappointment.


“H—h—hang on, what?” I sputtered.


“When you leave, and come back inside at the exact same time as someone else, you switch physical appearances.” He explained.


“Look, thanks for tonight, but we’re both short on time here —“


“And like you said, we shouldn’t waste the magical entities of the night, right?”



With one last smile, he turned around, and without another look back, he stalked off and headed for a blonde standing by the nearest window. A laced mask was wound around her large eyes, and her bouncy curls were pinned up. Beneath her mask, where high, perfectly sculpted cheekbones. Her pointy shoulders were bare, and a small, ruby-red heart necklace hung before her protruding collarbone. She wore a long, red gown that shimmered in the light. She looked just like me — or just like I did.




He approached her quickly, without a single hint of hesitancy.


As the minute hand reached twelve, each body in the hall began to rumble, as if their skin was boiling in a tub of hot water. It was like watching the effects of a polyjuice potion wearing off. The masks whisked themselves away from the faces they covered, and disappeared into nothing.

I watched stone-cold and legitimately surprised, as Potters’ features were revealed upon the disenchantments. While he approached her, his face was hard with determination. Within two long strides, he captured her face in his large hands, and planted his lips over hers.

I gasped involuntarily.

Their lips moved in an instant, and before I could even blink, before I could even register what was going on, her arms were already wrapped around his neck. The kiss looked feverish and passionate; everything Albus and I could never have been. It was disgusting. Watching his lips mold to the shape of another made me sick to my stomach, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not look away. It was as if my body wanted to severely impair my mentality and emotional stability.

As it turns out, this girl Potter had been talking about was not me.

It was —

They finally parted. Her chest heaved heavily. She was breathless, obviously. Any one of Potters’ kisses always left a girl bloody breathless. On the other hand, I could see Potters’ eyebrows furrowing. He shifted on his feet and took a small step back.

Again, I gasped. There she was. Amelie Fucking Elkin. The girl who got everything she ever wanted in her entire fucking life. The most gorgeous girl in school — even I couldn't deny it, and I hated her with every fiber of my being — the one all the boys wanted. Merlin. Never in my life was I ever jealous of her, but at that precise moment, I found myself praying that it was me Potter had just kissed with such vigor and passion.

Merlin, it was like the universe really wanted them together.

A part of me wondered if I should tell him. Tell him that Amelie and I switched appearances the moment we walked through the entrance together. Even though I wasn’t exactly sure how it was possible, I wondered if I should step up and tell Potter that it was — most probably — me that he spent the entire night talking to.

Instead, I held my ground and watched. I watched as Potter backed away from a triumphant and pleased Amelie. I watched as she took smirked teasingly before taking another step closer.

Then it happened. It was abrupt; like the flick of a light switch and the crack of a whip. My memories came flooding back as if someone had literally opened up a locked door in my mind. Cupid, the arrow, Sylvia, the kiss, Albus, Amelie, Albus — shit. I kissed Albus Potter. I kissed James Potters’ younger brother. I snogged Potters’ younger brother, and Amelie was a witness.

“Sylvia!” I hissed under my breath. “Amelie.”

I was torn between whom to tackle first. Amelie, while standing right in front of me, was not the bigger picture here. Desmond and his stupid Cupid problem was, which meant that Sylvia was the bigger fish to fry. The only problem was, I had no idea where I would find her. For all I knew, she already returned to her dormitory to conclude her lifelong research — more like bloody obsession — about Desmond and Cupids.

Alarms immediately went off in my head. I had to find Desmond. Screw Amelie. Potter could suck it.


Kill two birds with one stone.

However, in Amelie’s case, it was more like knock-out. There was no way she would permanently let this kiss go. Not when she finally had something to hold over my head.

“Potter!” I shouted. My legs finally decided to move, and I scurried over to his side. “Potter, we need to find Desmond. Or Sylvia. Sylvia is a better find, actually.”

His eyes darkened. “What’s going on?” he asked stiffly. Before I could process my answer, his eyes scanned my attired. “You’re…” He began piecing it together.

So Potter wasn’t as thick as I thought.

“Yes, Potter, I’m her, the girl you spent the past half hour speaking to. But never mind that.” It was difficult. Trying to push aside what my heart momentarily desired the most, in order to save the bloody wings of my best friend. “We have a…” I shot a weary glance towards Amelie, who was already staring at me with a smirk. “Situation.” I finished, returning my gaze to Potter. “With Desmond, and his… Cat.” I narrowed my eyes at my own stupidity.

His hands immediately fell from Amelie’s waist. “What did he do now?” Luckily, Potter caught on quickly.

“Er… his cat doesn’t like to talk about his business in public.”

Without another word, he swiftly placed his hand on the small of my back and rushed me out of the Great Hall. We did not get very far. I suppose Potter was eager to hear whatever I had to say, because he released me by one of the torches, not far from the main entrance of the castle. The kiss between Albus and I returned to my mind, and I cringed inwardly.

“What’s going on?” he questioned.

“Before the ball he wa —“

“No, I don’t mean that.” Potter snapped impatiently while shaking his head. “Why are you… how could it possibly be that you were the girl I was just speaking to?” he didn’t even skip a beat.

My eyes widened, and my heart, if it were possible, would have quite literally, jumped out of my chest. “I…” How could I possibly tell him the truth without revealing what happened not more than five feet from where we were standing? “I don’t know, to be honest.” I answered. “I thought you were…”

Involuntarily, my eyes flickered behind him and managed to focus on a couple snogging not far from where Potter and I were standing. It was a redhead, pressed up against the wall, with a tall, broad-shouldered boy attacking her lips. Sighing, my gaze turned back to Potter. “I don’t know. I was surprised too, okay? But I guess you’re happy, huh?” I asked bitterly, suddenly forgetting about Desmond.

“Happy with what?” he retorted someone angrily.

“Amelie. You fancy her, don’t you?” I knew it wasn’t true. How could it, if Amelie has absolutely no connection to either Desmond or Tyler? But I couldn’t help the sourness that itched to spill itself out of my mouth. I was pissed, and confused at the same time. It had to come out somehow.

“What the bloody hell are you on about?”

“Now you and Amelie can live happily ever after!” I exclaimed in mock joy. “Merlin knows she’s been wanting you back.”

Potter rolled his eyes.

I wanted to slap him. How dare he give me attitude? I was the one who should be annoyed.

“Amelie and I are not getting back together.” He informed me sternly. "Whatever happened back there, whatever the fuck that wa —"

“Oh really? Like you could resist someone like Ame —” For the second time, my eyes strayed away from Potter, and once again, landed on the snogging couple. I strained my eyes further, suddenly extremely curious. The girls' flaming head of hair was awfully familiar, and I was sure that I've seen that bloke countless of times before tonight... “Bloody fuck!” I cursed loudly once their identities dawned on me. As soon as the curse left my mouth, I immediately regretted it. I slapped my hand over my figuratively slippery lips as I fearfully turned back to Potter. “Is there any chance in Merlin’s pants that you will ignore that sudden outburst, go back into the Great Hall with me, and dance until your feet fall off?”

He ignored my plea, as expected, and turned around to follow my gaze. “Who is that?” he asked curiously, leaning forward slightly to catch a better look.

“It’s no one!” I squealed immediately. “It’s Celia, that fifth year Ravenclaw Desmond and I adopted as our child about two years back. She finally got the guy of her dreams!” I laughed nervously, as I feigned excitement. “Now let’s go back, Potter, and give them their privacy.”

But he did not listen. Like the stubborn arse he was, he completely ignored me and began walking towards them.

“Potter!” I hissed. “It’s extremely rude to interrupt a couple who’s having the time of their lives snogging!”

He continued walking, and I was left to panic.

“Fuck.” I cursed. Yes, I know it was rather unnecessary, but I was panicking. Potter was mere meters away from finding out that his best friend was currently snogging his little sister.

Should I interrupt and do something, and possibly get myself roped into a mess that was not my own, or should I allow the beast to walk into the fiery pit, and allow these two snogging kids to flounder in their own pile of dung?

Unfortunately, my own brain did not allow any second thoughts. I growled under my breath and my legs began to move on their own accord. I bustled around, and stopped in front of Potter, with the intentions of blocking his view.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “We can play a prank on them.” A grin full of mischief spread across his face. “C’mon, Vicky, you used to love play pranks on couples like that. What happened to you?” he taunted.

I rolled my eyes and took a step forward. “It’s called growing up, Potter. You should try it sometime.”

Surprisingly, instead of a child-like and somewhat witty comeback, Potter smirked.

I knew that I was victorious in capturing his attention, but I knew that an oral argument would not suffice in keeping it. So did what any stupid girl would have done. I tiptoed, and moved to press my lips on his. Meeting his gaze, my movements involuntarily slowed. He leaned forward slowly, somewhat meeting me halfway, and our faces were mere centimeters apart. My mind was washed of all thoughts, his eyes becoming the only thing I could focus on. They were green, and bright, yet at the same time, darkened with a haze of — what was that, desire? They were more focused on my lips, but occasionally flickered back to my eyes.

I suddenly forgot how we ended up here. Anything that happened before Potters’ intoxicating scent spoiled my mind was momentarily forgotten. All I could see was Potter. All I wanted to do was to feel him. Nothing else mattered at that moment, other than Potter.

Slowly, he began to lean in further, and I happily complied. As our lips brushed, I felt his lips stretch into a smile.


Moment over.


Potter, who acted as though he had just been burned, pulled away immediately. He straightened his posture, took a quick step back, one that had almost gone unnoticed, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He then cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Merlin, Potter, you're acting like a child who just got caught sneaking in a cookie before dinner." To be honest, his reaction stung more than I anticipated. It was like one of those cuts where the pain registers moments later, rather than in an instant. It was those kind of wounds that hurt the most once the pain settled in. It would claw at your skin until it reached your bone. It was seemingly never-ending pain. Seemingly.

Potter scowled in response, but remained quiet. Was it possible that he noticed how much his actions affected me?

I shut my eyes tightly in annoyance.

“It’s Roxanne.” Potter informed me.

I heaved a heavy sigh before I turned around to face Roxy. “Roxy,” I breathed. “Can I help you?”

“Layla is about to rip this girls’ head off.”

"What, why?" I asked immediately. All thoughts of Potter escaped me.

"I'm not sure... She's just really ticked off..."

Potter scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. "One more detention and her prefect status will be revoked." he reminded me. "She really needs to get a hold of that temper of hers."

"You’re one to talk, Potter.” I retorted angrily.

”What’s that supposed to mean?”

”It means that you’ve got a temper that is on par with a bloody active volcano.”

”Guys... This really isn’t the time to start arguing..." Roxy interjected quietly. “Layla...”

”Where is she?” I turned my attention back to Roxy, turning my cold shoulder towards Potter.

”Third floors’ girls’ lavatory."


”Bitch! Who the fuck do you think you are?" Her shrill voice pierced through my eardrums before I managed to even step foot into the bathroom.

After Roxy came to find me, I sprinted up several flights of stairs and rushed my way down the corridor and towards a crowded bathroom with Potter right on my tail. Once or twice, I managed to trip on my dress, or lose footing all thanks to my five inch heels, only to receive a sarcastic comment from Mr. Helpful following behind me.

It was either a “You're a bloody fool for thinking you would have the ability to walk in those heels," or something along the lines of "I think you should stick with the flattest of all trainers for the rest of your miserable, clumsy life.”

Potter's a charmer, really.

”You crazy fucking, hoe bag!"

That was definitely Layla.

”That mouth of hers...” Potter muttered from behind me as we pushed through a crowd of people.

”Move out of my fucking way!” I cried impatiently. The crowd of girls before me immediately dispersed. “Thank you. Merlin's fucking beard, don't you all have lives to get back to?”

”That mouth of yours...” Potter added with a sigh.

”Shut it, Potter. I’m not in the mood.”

”You slut!”

”You better shut that trap of yours before I shut it for you." Layla growled dangerously. “How was I supposed to know he was your boyfriend? Everyone was wearing masks you daft bimbo. You want to accuse someone of being unfaithful? Accuse your ’boyfriend’ standing right behind you. He seemed perfectly... ready, even after he found out that he was about to jump into the pants of a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend.”

”Why you little...” By the time the two of them came into view, the little blonde lunged for Layla's throat. Layla's teeth, in retaliation, practically barred on instinct, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. She had a look that could kill, and I immediately knew that this blonde was done for.

”Potter!” I squealed helplessly, turning to face Potter with a desperate expression planted on my face. “Do something!” I pleaded.

”Sorry, Vic, I don't get myself involved in cat fights.”

I growled beneath my breath. “You useless tosspot.” I muttered before I pulled quickly pulled out my wand from beneath my gown and pointed it in towards the crazy little blonde one. “Relashio!”

”What the fuck!” The blonde shrieked from the ground.

”What's going on?” I asked, turning to Layla.

”Ask her,” Layla spat sourly as she pointed down in the girl’s direction. Her chest was heaving up and down. I could only guess that it was out of pure anger. “She’s a bloody psychopath.”

”She’s the slut who flirted with my boyfriend!” the blonde interjected from her spot on the ground.

”For the thousandth time, it was a masked ball. We didn’t know who each other was!” Layla retorted angrily. “You stupid, annoying bimbo!”

I gave the blonde on the floor a look. “Seriously?” I asked, baffled. “You’re angry because she flirted with a guy she didn’t even know?”

”Next time, you might as well charm the words ’TAKEN BY #1BITCH’ on his forehead.” Layla commented from behind me. “Maybe doing something like that will put you at ease.”

The blonde shot daggers in Layla's direction before she turned towards me to do the same, “You’re one to talk.” she spat, giving me an incredibly dirty look. Her eyes narrowed into slits, and the corners of her mouth twitched with anger, or possibly annoyance. “Snogging your boyfriend’s younger brother...”

My mouth dropped open the exact moment gasped fluttered throughout the lavatory. How... How did she know?

”Oh, you didn’t think any one would find out?” she asked incredulously. “I saw you two outside the Great Hall. I must say, it looked like a pretty passionate kiss.”


Mother of Merlin..

I have the shittiest luck in the world.

“You’ve mistaken me for someone el—”

Rudely interrupting me in mid sentence, the blonde scoffed. “Don’t even bother trying to hide it. It’s impossible to miss that curly blonde hair of yours. That was definitely you snogging Albus.” She was haughty, and annoying. I suddenly understood Layla’s undying urge to rip her face off her head. “You see at first, I thought that you were snogging James. But then the difference of a few steps… well, let’s just say that it goes a long way.”


Merlin, Potter!

He was here.

He was in the lavatory, and he just heard everything.

I intended to turn in a slow hesitant manner, but instead, my body swiveled around faster than the speeding bullet — one I wished for — designated to lodge itself into my temple. The numerous faces faded and the white tiles behind each one became a blur. My heart thumped against my chest louder than anything I’ve ever heard before, and in that short moment, all I could hear and all I could feel was the aftershock of anxiety building up in my chest. It was like a strange kind of high, except no one deliberately puts a halt on reality for something like this. No one.

The world came to a stop once I was directly facing Potter. I didn’t have to wait for him to take notice. His eyes were already on mine through a piercing glare. His jaw was clenched tightly, and for a small fragment of a second, I worried for his teeth, which would have gotten crushed if he continued clenching. And then I realized that there were more important matters at hand.

“Potter…”I began so unsure with myself, only because I had no idea what to say. Before this incident, I was entirely convinced that Potter would not find out about Albus and I. I had no explanations. Nothing. But I still opened my mouth, and his name slithered past my lips like smoke; wispy, and translucent.

My lack of words, however, did not seem to matter at all. After our gaze locked for a good minute or two, Potter’s jaw tightened even more, if it were even possible, and he looked away. Without another word, Potter turned and walked out the door.

Without a single fucking word.

“Oops, I think I said something I wasn’t supposed to.”

I didn’t even have time to get angry. Whatever that girl said didn’t even register in my mind until I was halfway out the door, chasing after Potters’ giant head. I didn’t know what I was going to say. I didn’t even know why I had to chase after Potter just to explain both on Albus, and my behalf.

I caught sigh of Potter taking the first turn down the corridor. I quickened my pace, ignoring my complaining feet and threw away all thoughts that told me how ridiculous this was. Again, for about the hundredth time since I knew him, I was left to try to satiate his needs, mend his emotions, and fix everything that had gone wrong.

“Potter!” I cried once I caught up with him. “Potter, would you just please, wait?”

He stopped a good five feet before me and turned to face me. “What?” he demanded through clenched teeth.

My feet came to a halt as I tried my best to catch my breath. “Do — don’t be angry…”

“And why would I be angry?” he asked angrily.


“Don’t flatter yourself, Victoria. I don’t give a damn if you snog my brother or not.”

“Potter, I’m sorry!” I cried as I prayed that my apologies would be enough.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Then why are you acting this way?” I asked.

“Albus has a girlfriend!” He roared and advanced towards me. “Ginger, do you remember her? Albus is crazy about her. And you! You…” Potter looked irritated and over whelmed. He was having difficulty spitting out whatever he wanted to say, and I was having a hard time trying to not feel anymore sorry than I should. “Last time I checked, you — you’re dating me.”

I bit my bottom lip out of nervousness. “It was an accident! He was wearing a mask, neither of us knew who the other was.”

He scoffed bitterly. “Don’t give me that. Mask-less or not, you still snogged him.”

“I don’t get you, Potter!” I screeched. “You don’t give a damn when you even come close to hurting me, and when I get angry, you think I’m being irrational! But when I go do something as small as snogging your brother, while in fact, thinking that he was you, you throw a bloody fit!”

“He’s my brother!” he roared immediately in retaliation. His voice echoed down the corridor, and I flinched slightly at the heightened volume.

“And Amelie is your ex-girlfriend, who you, by the way, snogged tonight as well!” Suddenly, I was no longer that concerned with Potter’s fickle feelings. I was livid, and — as much as I hate to admit it — I was jealous. “Don’t you go forgetting that I’m still in love with you, you stupid git! How do you think kissing someone like Amelie would make me feel?”

“I thought she was you!”

“And I thought Albus was you!” We were both shamelessly bellowing in the middle of the corridor. I was sure that someone all the way up in the Gryffindor common room would be able to hear us at the rate we were going.

“That’s no excuse.” Potter spat, his voice slowly softening with every word. “For the both of us.”

I sighed angrily as I crossed my arms over my chest and pursed my lips. I looked away from Potter and attempted to regain control of my temper. “Certainly not.”


I was sincerely concerned about how easily Potter can get me all riled up. One moment, all I want to do is make him happy, and the next there is an overwhelming desire to rip his head off, bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Yes, this has always been our relationship, ever since the beginning of time, but his fickleness was affecting me more than I anticipated. It was like a disease, and I was no longer able to determine where neither he nor I stood. It confused me to no end. I just wanted it all to stop.

After the little spat between Potter and I, he stormed off, as expected. I was left to sulk alone until my feet decided to bring me back to the Great Hall, where my friends would most likely be found.

When I reached the entrance to the Great Hall, I immediately spotted Tyler standing solo by a large tapestry. He was the first I approached.

“Tyler.” I greeted breathlessly. “Lovely to see a friendly face.”

“Hey there, Vic.” He seemed distracted.

“Have you seen Desmond? I really need to talk to him.” I was Initially going to ask him about his night, but I realized that I did not care about it as much as the more pressing matters that took over my once magical night. I almost growled under my breath at the thought.

“No, I haven't, actually.” Tyler replied with a frown. “Haven't seen him all night, to be honest. And from what it looks like, he’s not here either. What’s going on?”

“Cupid business.” I answered bitterly. “Among other things.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What other things?” he asked slowly.

“I shall tell you when I find him.” I answered, “But for now––just know––I’m out for his head.”

Tyler nodded. “I’ll keep a lookout.” he said. “And in return, maybe you can find a girl for me.”

”A girl...?”

“Yeah. I practically spent the entire night with her, but she bolted right before I had the chance to see who she was.”

“So she pulled a Cinderella?”

“A what?” Tyler asked, confused.

“Never mind. Muggle reference. You wouldn't understand.” I sighed. “Are you sure she wasn’t Dom?”

Tyler nodded. “Dom was paired with some Hufflepuff the entire night. And plus, this girl’s a ginger.”

My chest clenched, and I began chewing on my lip nervously. “... A Weasley...?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, he answered, “I have no clue, to be honest.”


“Look, I know it’s bad, okay? I know about the rules, and I know how pissed James would be if I went after another one of his cousins. Luck isn’t exactly on my side is time, and considering my chances with this girl... The possibility of her being a Weasley is extremely large. But I have to find her, Vic. I need to find her. I think I’ll genuinely go insane if I don't.”

Not knowing what to make of Tyler’s usual lady problems, I sighed, and made a mental note to keep a look out. “I’ll see what I can do, Ty.” I reassured him.

That was the last I saw of Tyler that night. After a small smile, he stalked off and dove into the crowd of people who still lingered on the dance floor. A moderate amount of sympathy resurfaced as I watched my friend walk off. I had barely seen him ever since the showdown with Dom, and it didn’t take a genius to see that he felt inclined to single himself out for the sake of his friends.

But shit happens, and sometimes, something’s just does not work out.

That’s precisely why people should never fall in love.


By the time it was two in the morning, both Desmond and Lily have yet to grace us with their god-awful presence. Dominique had retired early, and Layla was on a hunt for some liquor, while Roxy, Albus, Scorpius, Tyler, and I, lazily draped ourselves along the main staircase, situated near the Great Hall. The lot of us looked beat. The boys had loosened their ties and shrugged off their robes, while the girls had kicked off their shoes and had let their hair loose.

“Why aren’t we having fun like the rest of those kids?” Roxy asked sadly, passively peering into the Great Hall. “My night was a bust.” She pouted sourly.

“Tell me about it.” Scorpius sighed. “Say, where’s Layla with the alcohol?”

“Why does it seem like we always end every party with a good round of drinks?” My body was pressed flat against the staircase, while my head was propped up against Tyler’s lap. “Not that I’m complaining or anything… I could use a drink or two right now.”

Tyler looked as though he was dozing off. His head was leaning against the banister, while his left hand was lost in the mess that I called hair. “Psst, Tyler.” I whispered.


My forefinger shot towards his nostril, causing him to jerk backwards in surprise. “Victoria!” he barked disapprovingly.

I giggled. “It’s not proper to fall asleep on a staircase.”

Tyler glared at me. “You’ve done it plenty of times.”

I stuck out my tongue resentfully. “A drunken me does not count.”

He rolled his eyes before leaning his head against the banister once more.

“Where’s Ginger, Al?” Roxy asked once both Tyler and I restored a comfortable silence. “Wasn’t she supposed to come join us?”

“One of her friends passed out somewhere near the kitchens.” He answered with a snort. “She’s going to bring her back to her dorm before they all get caught for possession.”

“Why does it seem like everyone but us had a good night?” Scorpius groaned. “It’s not fair.”

“Calm down Scorpy.” I turned my head to see Layla sneaking past the entrance of the Great Hall with two cartons of what looked like firewhiskey. “I’m about to make your night a whole lot better.” She said with a grin once she finally reached us. “It wasn’t easy knicking these.” she informed us. “Let’s move to the common room before McGonagall comes out here and expels us all.”

The common room was just as warm as I remembered. The six of us filed in and made a beeline for the couch. The single armchairs and two-seater love seats were neglected as the six of us squished our arses together and forced ourselves to fit. Layla draped her legs over Scorpius’ lap, and I realigned myself to drape mine over Tyler’s.

“Awesome, I’m comfortable.” I grinned cheekily at Tyler, who playfully rolled his eyes in response.

Ginger joined us before the drinks were opened. She planted herself on Albus’ lap and began an animated conversation with Roxy over who would win the next Quidditch World Cup.

Al stared at Ginger as though he was in bloody love with her.

Scorpius was the first to go for the alcohol. He opened up the carton and pulled out a large red bottle. “Yum, it’s flavored.”

“Pass me a green one, would you?” Apple was my favorite.

Tyler uncapped the bottle before handing it over. I sipped him contently. The substance seared as it slithered down my throat, instantly healing everything that went wrong that night. It was my remedy, and I was in need of a couple of bottles. I stared at the second carton, which housed the remaining drinks, and began wondering if six bottles would be enough to ease the relentless pain of loving Potter each and every single fucking day.

After a long, mental, one-sided debate, I realized that six was not enough. I would need about twelve.

However, the lack of alcohol and the heartbreak that was Potter, was no longer important. In a matter of minutes, the complaints ceased, and were replaced with smiles and laughter.

Scorpius cracked more jokes than I could even count. Most of them were probably not funny at all, but for some reason, I still laughed at every single one of them. On more than one occasion, I laughed until my stomach hurt and the floor looked more appealing than my space between the arm of the couch, and Tyler. Ginger joined the lovely-looking-floor fan club. Albus had to secure his arms around her to make sure she did not fall face first onto the carpeted floor.

Albus and Layla were really good singers, although, I’m not sure if I’ll have the same opinion in the morning. They sang the school song, and the entire Wicked Sisters’ new album.

Tyler was great at doing an Albus Dumbledore impression. Of course, Albus shut him up, muttering something about having respect for the dead.

I, on the other hand, all I could do was laugh until I cried, and think about how much I sincerely loved my friends.

“Scorpius!” Ginger cried in the midst of her uncontrollable laughter. “Please stop! I think I’m going to wet myself!”

“Oh, Merlin, Scorp, please stop.” Albus pleaded from beneath her.

I burst out laughing, and opened my second bottle of whiskey. It was a lot stronger than I remembered. The alcohol was hitting me hard, and it was hitting me fast.

“No, but wait until you hear the re—”

A tapping on the window interrupted Scorpius’ story about how his father thought his mother was pregnant again at the age of fifty.

“Owl’s this late?” Roxy inquired. She was craning her neck around Scorpius’ head to peer out the window. “I don’t recognize it. Do you guys?”

We all shook our heads.

“I think it’s a school owl.” Layla said.

Ginger hopped off Albus’ lap and ran towards the window. The moment she unlocked the clasp, the window blew open, and she was bombarded with several letters. “Bloody hell.” She cursed once the letters fell to the ground. “It’s… there’s one for each of us.” She announced.

“Is it from school?” Roxy asked. “I don’t understand why they don’t just use the PA system. Flitwick didn’t re-charm it for nothing.”

“No…” Ginger answered absentmindedly. She slowly handed out our respective letters, and each one of us tore it open without another word.

With a bow and arrows
With two little wings
Comes a tall man
Who descended from Kings
He’s a harbinger of love
But ladies and gents,
It’s not all fluttering white doves
Watch your backs
Who knows when a Cupid will hit you in the ass?

All my love
Victoria Rose

I almost choked on my drink when I read the last two lines. ‘All my love, Victoria Rose.’

“What the fuck?” I cursed loudly and shamelessly.

“Vicky, it’s signed by you.” Tyler pointed out. “Why…”

“I didn’t write this!” I exclaimed. I lifted my appalled gaze and looked at Layla. She looked just as confused and angry as I did.

“This sound’s like an extremely tacky Valentine’s day card.” Ginger commented. “Honestly, it’s bloody Halloween. I think someone is just ridiculously confused.”

“Yeah… Confused.” Albus agreed. His eyes, however, were still glued to the piece of parchment in his hands. His brows were knitted into a frown, and I knew that there was something brewing in his mind.

“Do you think everybody received one?” Scorpius asked, holding up his crumbled copy. “Vicky, if you didn’t write this, then who did?”

“And why do they feel the need to sign your name…” Ginger added.

“It’s probably someone trying to play some stupid joke.” Roxy said, folding up her copy. “Maybe it’s Fred, and he’s just really drunk. I wouldn’t be surprised. It may be a little amateur of him, but when he’s buzzed, there is no line between an amateur and a professional.”

“Hey, guys?” I interrupted, suddenly remembering something that happened earlier in the night.

All six heads turned towards me.

“Anyone know where I might find Potter?” I asked hesitantly, chewing on my lower lip.

Tyler frowned. “I saw him earlier.” He answered. “He said something about going back to the dorm. Check upstairs.”

I nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bring James down here, will you?” Layla called after me. “We need to have a little chat, that boy and I.”

In order to avoid any unwanted catastrophes — I can be pretty fucking clumsy, especially while partially intoxicated — I lifted my dress and held at boobs-length. I bolted up the stairs, barefoot, and stopped at the sixth-year boys’ dormitory. I didn’t bother knocking. Instead, I turned the knob and barged right in.

Potter was on his bed, lounging against a set of pillows propped up before the headboard. There was a book opened on his chest, and he seemed to be in the middle of it. He had already shrugged off his dress shirt, and his slacks were unbuttoned, giving me a preview of his plaid boxers.

Merlin, he looked so bloody delectable. I almost forgot why I went looking for him in the first place.

“Can I help you?” he asked sourly, breaking the silence.

Ignoring his sourness, I stepped further into his dormitory and shut the door behind me. “I — I need to talk to you, Potter.”

Wordlessly, he reached for something situated on the bed beside him. He held up a small piece of parchment — the same one all seven of us read earlier. “Are you talking about this?” he asked.

“So you did get it…”

“Don’t worry.” Was all he said. “I know you didn’t write it.”

“Thank Y — hang on, how do you know?”

He scoffed. “Please. The last time you tried to write a poem, you could barely rhyme. It took you a good twenty minutes to think of something that rhymed with ‘heart’.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed resentfully. “It’s hard, okay? Not everyone can be good with words.”

“And that is precisely why I know you did not write this.”

“That’s great, but that’s not really why I came up here.” I planted myself at the foot of his bed. From here, Potter’s book blocked his face from my view, so I snatched it from his grasp and closed it shut. I ignored his indignant expression and continued talking. “Do you remember that Desmond problem I had to talk to you about earlier?”

He nodded, looking slightly annoyed.

“Long story short, Sylvia caught Desmond with a bow and arrow, and unfortunately, that spell the put on the Great Hall is not long lasting.”

“She — she what?” he sputtered with disbelief, sitting up slightly. “That’s just — that’s just perfect. Sylvia of all people figuring out Desmond’s little secret.”

“I’m guessing she’s the one who sent this.” I concluded. “But why would she sign my name? What idiot would do that?”

“The woman’s crazy.” Potter stated as if it was a plausible answer to everything.

After a short stretch of silence, Potter lifted his gaze and looked at me. “Where is Desmond, anyway?” he asked. “I haven’t seen him all night, and he’s not back yet.”

I shrugged, unsure of what to tell him. “I haven’t seen him either.” Was all I could think of.

“I suppose he had some fun tonight.”

I nodded slowly, tracing the carvings of his bedposts with my eyes. “I suppose so.”

Another stretch of silence.

“So how do we shut Sylvia up?” I asked.

Potter snorted. “Offer up Desmond as leverage.”

I laughed. “That would definitely work.”

Another stretch.

“You smell like alcohol.” Potter stated.

I shrugged. “We knicked some earlier. Not all of us had a good night.”

“Is that apple?” he asked, leaning closer.

I nodded nervously. “It’s — it’s my favorite flavor.”

He smirked. “I know.”

Another stretch.

“Layla’s looking for you.” I informed him. “She says there’s something the two of you need to talk about.”

“She’s probably pissed by now.” He said.


Another stretch.

“Have you spoken to Dom all night?” Potter asked.


“She saw Tyler with another girl when the masks came off.”

“Is that why she went back so fast?”

“She’s not pleased.”

“I wouldn’t expect her to be.”

Potter sighed. “She’s upset, actually.”

“It’ll pass over soon.”

He scoffed. “I doubt it.”

There was another stretch.

“Do you want to join them downstairs?” I asked. By then, I was draped across his mattress while I blankly stared at the canopy of his bed. “My buzz is going away.”

“I like you better sober, anyway.”

I frowned.

He sat up and pulled himself out of bed. “Let’s go.” After re-buttoning his slacks, he walked over to stand in front of me and held out his hands.

Hesitantly, I placed mine into his, and he pulled me onto my feet in one swift motion. I held my breath as he hoisted me off the bed and flat against his bare chest. Gasping loudly after the unexpected contact, my hands gripped his arms for balance. My head was spinning wildly, and I didn’t know why.

Potter and I went from wanting to rip out each other’s throats to this, without a single hint of hesitation. He went from being absolutely disgusted by my presence, to absorbing every ounce of my being in the matter of seconds. He was going a million miles a minute, and all I could do was linger behind him and try to keep up.

“Merlin, Vic, I wish you didn’t have to be in love with me.” He said softly as he began twirling a lock of my hair in between his fingers.

“Believe me, Potter, I wish for the same exact thing every single day.” I responded in a whisper.

He smiled knowingly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“You said a lot of things earlier.”

“I don’t want you snogging my brother.” He repeated. “Ever again.”

I frowned. “Would you respect my wishes if I were to ask you never to touch Amelie ever again?”

His jaw clenched, but nevertheless, he nodded. “It’s only fair.”

I was taken aback by his answer. Since when was Potter ever willing to be fair with me?

“Really?” I couldn’t hide my shock.

“Yes.” He answered stiffly.

“That’s… surprising.”

“So we’re in agreement then, yeah?”

Slowly, I nodded as I attempted to take everything in. “Y — yeah, I suppose we are.”

“I think this is the first time this has ever happened.” He pointed out.

“I think so too.”

“I think we’re agreeing a little too much tonight.”

“We definitely are.” I nodded.

He chuckled and dropped his gaze.

“You’re burning up.” I said, staring at the spot where my hands came in contact with his skin.

“It’s a bit hot in here.” He shrugged.

“Maybe we should go downstairs…” I suggested.

Potter smiled and released me. “Yeah, maybe.”

After he pulled on a plain white t-shirt, we slowly walked out of his dorm and down the stairs. Potter trailed quietly and patiently behind me as I tried my best not to make an arse out of myself while handling a bloody train of fabric.

The laughter filled our ears before we even stepped foot into the common room. I could tell that Scorpius was still relentlessly cracking jokes, and Ginger was still laughing uncontrollably. Her laughter was as contagious as the black plague, causing everyone else to laugh along.

“Vic’s back!” Scorpius exclaimed once he caught sight of the two of us. “And she brought James!”

“Jamsie!” Layla called out excitedly.

“IT’S MY BIG BRO!” Albus shouted.

“COME HITHER, MY CHILD!” Tyler beckoned.

I laughed loudly. “What a weirdo.” I commented. Just as I was about to take another step closer towards the group of rowdy drunks, I stopped myself. “You know what,” I offered Potter a quick glance before turning back to the rest of them. “I am craving some… steak.”

“Steak?” Layla repeated.

“Yeah, steak. One of those late night cravings, you know? I just… I really need to have some steak right now.”

“I could use some steak!” Tyler added.

With an excited smile stretched across my face, I turned to Potter and suggested, “Late night food run?”

He chuckled as he shook his head in a hopeless manner. “Who am I to deny you food?”

“Oi, pick me up some pie, would you?” Albus requested.

“I want a taco!” Tyler screeched. “GET ME A TACO.”

“I thought you wanted steak…” I said, confused.

“I changed my mind. I want a taco. Some watermelon sounds good too.”

“Taco’s and watermelon?” Potter asked with the same tone of confusion.

“Ask Binky to put some marshmallows on my taco, would you?”

“Bloody hell, mate…” Potter muttered. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”

“I want chocolate!” Layla interjected. “Get me a giant tub of chocolate and some crackers. MARSHMALLOWS! Bring up a giant bag of marshmallows! We can make smores. Mother of Merlin, I’m so damn excited now. You two better come back quickly!”

James rolled his eyes as he began making his way towards the exit. “Yes ma’am.”

“There better be drinks left when we get back!” I hollered on my way out of the portrait hole. “I’m serious, Layla!”

“Yeah, yeah! Bring me my smores!” was the last response I heard before the portrait hole closed behind me.

“Damn.” I cursed once the portrait closed behind me. I looked at the portrait with an expression filled with regret. My lips curled into a pout as I faced Potter, who was waiting for an explanation. “I should have changed.” I explained. “I’m going to die going down all those stairs in this dress.”

“Hold it up, you big baby.”

You hold it up, you arse.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Vicky, but you’re not a princess.”

“I didn’t say I was, Potter.”

“Just stop complaining!”

“It’s not called complaining, you dolt! I was merely stating my regret!”

“In other words, you were complaining!”

“It’s not complaining!”

“Is too! All you ever do is complain and expect everyone else to do the work for you! Merlin, you’re such a brat!”

I’m a brat? You’re one to talk! You walk around the castle like you’re the fucking King of this joint. News flash, Potter, YOU’RE FUCKING NOT!”

“Your head is bigger than mine ever was.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“High and almighty Vic-fucking-toria.”

Shut up.

“Can’t handle the burn, baby?”

“I’m getting tired of hearing your voice, as a matter of fact. It’s bloody irritating, if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Wow, aren’t we clever.”

“Oh please.

Before I managed to squeeze in my own witty, well thought out comeback, Potter was already half way down the corridor, and making his way towards the staircase. “Don’t you walk away from me, Potter!” I called after him, rushing to keep up. “Potter!”

He already reached the first landing when I reached the top of the staircase.

Abruptly, the floor began rumbling, and Potter suddenly began to effortlessly distance himself from me. I gasped, surprised, and gripped the stone railings. The staircase shifted, removing itself from beneath my hovering foot.

“Potter!” I shouted angrily. I wasn’t done with our argument. There was no way he was walking away from me now.

He smirked triumphantly as the staircase brought him further and further away from me. It stopped on the other side of the castle and connected to a corridor that if followed, would eventually lead to the Ravenclaw common room.

“Arsehole.” I muttered sourly.

He was still smirking and facing in my direction. His hands were propped up against the stone railing, as if he had just won the biggest battle of his sorry, pathetic life. I scowled. The imbecile probably felt like a bloody King.

Suddenly, Potter was not smirking anymore. Something behind him had captured his attention, and I huffed angrily, knowing that my late-night kitchen escapade with Potter was already over before it started. His attention was easily captured by anything that did not involve little ol’ me. I didn’t know how to get into the kitchens, so my only option was to return to the common room empty handed.

I stared in Potter’s direction while biting my lip. I tried to ignore the sliver of hope that Potter would return and take me to the kitchen so my cravings could finally be satiated, but I knew that for as long as I stood here, waiting for Potter, like the idiot I am, there’s no ignoring the fruitless hope bubbling in my chest.

He had disappeared into the darkness, and I could only assume that whatever captured his attention was further down the corridor.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I decided to let the matter rest. Perhaps a long-legged blonde was lingering around the corridor. I knew how difficult it was for Potter to resist. Or perhaps there was a lovely new broomstick waiting for him in the darkness, and simply calling for his name. Maybe it was both a new broomstick and a long-legged blonde. Wearing a swimsuit. Or better yet, wearing nothing.

As I slowly walked back to the portrait hole, two figures in the corner of my eye captured my attention. I turned, and strained my vision.

It was… It was Potter.

It was Potter and Desmond.

My heart jumped at the sight of Desmond. It clenched nervously at the precise moment my stomach bubbled angrily.

They were talking.

They were… they were arguing?

They were… they were talking.

With fists.

Holy Merlin, they were talking. With fists.


He found out.

A/N: SOOOOOOOOOO, i'm going to start off by saying, i'm super sorry! I know i said that i'd try updating quicker, considering my awful updating schedule the past couple of months. but this time, i've hit some writers block, and it was really really hard to pump out the rest of this chapter. i'll try to update faster ! i love all of you for staying with me for this long!

so this chapter. we see progress with james and vickyyyyyyyyyy :) the two characters did leave a lot of things open in between them after they both found out that they spent their entire evening together, but i mean, it's james and vic. since when do they ever feel compelled to talk about everything with one another? Although, i'm sure vic is just dying to know what james thought about the entire ordeal. james on the other hand... seems to be having some mixed feelings, no?

and Desmond! how far do you think his little (i don't even know what to call it, so i'm going to call it a 'thing') thing with his best friend's baby sister will last?

tell me what you guys think! i love feedback :)

love, gryffgirl.

Chapter 20: The Aftermath and a Whole Lot of Squirming
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Twenty
Victoria Rose

Whoever left the bloody curtains open is going to get stabbed in the bloody eye with the fork that I keep in my top bedside drawer.

It’s probably still eight in the fucking morning, and the sun was already slapping my eyes like there was no tomorrow.

The sun was not welcomed this early in the morning.

If I could, I would charm those drapes shut forever, and ever, until the end of time.

But for some stupid, blonde-girl reason, Dominique insists on gracing our dormitory with a streaming fucking ray of sunlight. She claims that our little ‘shit-hole dorm’ needs happiness in the form of sunshine.

I think her mother dropped her when she was a baby, and she acquired some serious brain damage, one with effects that will not surface until she reaches the age of twenty-five. That’s the only plausible explanation for Dominique’s super strange personality and ethics.

Nevertheless, she’s going to die.

I groaned, and rolled over to my backside.

Hm… the room was questionably quiet.

Usually, Layla would be blasting her music by now.

Unless she’s still asleep…

I slowly cracked an eye open and turned to the clock nailed to our wall. It was one thirty. Merlin, I slept through breakfast and lunch. No wonder the dorm was so empty…

Feeling a surge of pressure upon my bladder, I suddenly had to pee really badly. I pulled myself out of my soft, comfortable bed, and trudged my way into the bathroom. I was settled on the toilet when something dark caught my eye.

“Fuck.” I cursed angrily. “Dammit, fuck the creator of all women.”

Mother nature just graced me with her monthly gift!

Excuse me while I run around the castle jumping for joy.

Growling out of annoyance, I reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed our box of charmed tampons. They were painless (in terms of removing), leak-free, and they smelled like heaven on a stick.

After I was done with my business, I immediately collapsed on my bed and groaned.

“Where are all my friends?” I muttered to myself.

I was bored, and I was hungry.

Once I decided that planking on my bed would get me absolutely nowhere, I grabbed an over sized sweater from my cardigan, my fluffy slippers, then my wand, and shuffled out the door.

The common room was empty. I reached the bottom stair, and literally heard crickets. Even the fire looked like it had died long before I arrived. I frowned and turned back, making my way up the boy’s staircase. They were my last resort until I would begin to panic, and declare myself to be the last species of the human race.

I knocked on the door, but let myself in anyway.

I don’t know why I bothered.

“Please tell me someone is in here…” Was my very pleasant greeting. “Desmond, Potter? Tyler?”

“They’re both gone.” I heard a voice from the bathroom.

It was Potters’ voice.

“Potter!” I squealed in surprised.

I suddenly had the urge to hug him. I just learned that I was, in fact, not the last one on the planet! Perhaps Potter and I were the last two.

That means we’re both responsible for making babies and repopulating the earth.

I had absolutely no problem with that.

Pardon me, I turn into a horn-ball when I’m on my period.

I walked around Tyler’s bed, and slowly peered into the bathroom.

Just incase Potter was — you know — naked or something. He wasn’t naked; although, he was in the middle of getting dressed. Which meant his slacks hung loose against his hips, while his shirt (unbuttoned) was un-tucked, and draped across his shoulders.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked curiously, leaning against the doorframe. I pulled the sleeves of the sweater to entirely cover my hand before I crossed my arms over my chest.

He turned to me, and his brows knitted into a frown. “Aren’t you going somewhere as well?”

“Er… no?”

He laughed, somewhat sourly, while shaking his head. He turned away and began buttoning his shirt. “It’s a Hogsmeade trip today. Desmond left long before any of us even woke up, and Tyler… I think he mentioned something about scouring for some girl he met last night.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, suddenly remembering what today was.

It was my date with Potter.

Merlin, how could I forget?

“You remember now, I take it?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Sorry, Potter. After last night—”

“Yeah, I get it.” He nodded, cutting me off immediately. I shut my gaped mouth faster than anyone could say ‘quidditch’. Last nights’ events came rushing back into my mind, and all I could do was stand before Potter and remain as quiet as possible. Finding out that your best friend spent his night hooking up with your baby sister was a heavy blow, and I knew Potter well enough to know that something as small as attempting to bring back this ‘utter betrayal’ (or so Potter calls it) would be like signing my own death sentence. Profoundly stupid.

A fifty-foot high wall of ice formed between Potter and Desmond after last night. Before we even made it to the kitchens, Potter spotted Desmond and Lily snogging — quite passionately, I hear — in an empty corridor after hours. Potter threw several punches, and I knew, even from a distance of an entire flight of stairs, that Desmond did not have the heart to retaliate.

After watching Lily’s futile attempt of stopping Potter, I jumped in and charmed Potter away. He furiously dragged Lily back to the common room, and somehow, managed to lock her in her dormitory for the night.

I followed them back to the common room quietly. Once Potter and Lily disappeared up the staircase, I plopped down on the arm chair and ignored the questions Layla and Roxy were pouring over me.

Moments later, Potter rushed down the staircase and, without a single look, he left.

Again, I helplessly followed him.

Along the way, I mentally cursed Desmond down, finding his stupidity utterly unbelievable. A large part of me hoped that they were only snogging because neither of them knew who the other was. I prayed and hoped that Desmond would be the smart booger I knew him to be, and he would push Lily away once the masks came off and identities were revealed.

Obviously, this booger let me down.

So I followed Potter down a dark and very empty corridor. He stopped by an opened window, and perched himself on the high edge. He smoked the rest of the night away, and as much as I disapproved of smoking, I did nothing. Instead, I joined him, pulled a cigarette from his half-empty pack of twelve, and lit it. The smell annoyed me more than usual, so I pulled out my wand and manipulated the breeze to keep the exhaled smoke moving forward, disabling it from lingering about and clinging to my robes.

Potter and I spent the night together, sitting in silence. From time to time, he’d glance in my direction, and I would glace in his. Other times, we would completely forget about the others’ presence, allowing the night to completely draw us in.

For the first time in a long time, I witnessed a storm dialing down. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before. After taking a long look at Potter’s relaxed form leaning against the windowpane, I silently found myself wishing for the ability to put out his fire, just like his ability to put out mine.

“So go get dressed now.” He said.

I pursed my lips. “Well, Potter, you see…” I rubbed my hand over my suddenly pained stomach. Fucking menstrual cramps. “I’m not really feeling well…”

He snorted. “Is that why you look like shit?

“Give me a break, Potter.” I snapped irritably. I immediately wished I wasn’t so cross with him. I knew how unstable Potter’s temper was at the moment, and although I normally wouldn’t care, I didn’t want to push him.

“Oh, I get it…” he said, turning around to face me. My crossness didn’t seem to faze him as much as I thought it would. Potter was being uncharacteristically patient today… “It’s your time of the month today.”

I bleached. “Eh…”

He chuckled. “That would explain your sudden cravings last night.”

“It also explains my sudden cravings right now…”

“Did you come here for the map?” he asked.

I shook my head and plopped myself down on the end of his bed. “No. I feared that there was a zombie apocalypse while I was asleep, and since my entire dorm, and common room was empty, I came up here to check if there was anyone else left.”

He chuckled. “Looks like you and I are the only two left, huh?”

I made a face and playfully stuck my tongue out. “We both know we’ll end up killing each other by the end of the day.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” He grabbed the map from his bedside table, and draped his tie over a lamp. “C’mon, let’s get you some food.”

As we made our way through his dorm and out the door, I could no longer hide my astonishment with Potters’ attitude. He no longer blew me off with one gaze, nor did he even bother to verbally abuse me, even after learning that his chances of pushing my buttons were higher than ever. Instead, he offered to bring me to the kitchens. I couldn’t tell if this was some kind of peace offering, or if last night severely wracked up his brain.

Walking with Potter to the kitchens was almost like a dream. I cracked joke after joke, regardless of its cheesiness and stupidity, and Potter laughed at every single one of them. Honestly, he was scaring me more than he was making me happy.

When we finally arrived in the kitchens, I grumbled as I climbed on one of the incredibly high stools situated in front of the incredibly high island in the middle of the room.

Potter slipped onto the stool with ease.

Within a flash, a house elf appeared by my side. “What can Binky do for you, miss?”

“I’ll have some steak and kidney pie, please.” I asked sweetly. “With some assortment of fruits, and a nice slice of chocolate cake!”

Binky nodded eagerly. The little bugger was so cute.

Turning to Potter, she asked, “And for Mr. Potter, sir?”

“I’ll have the regular, Binky, thank you.”

“Right away, sir!”

Once Binky scoured away into the other room, I turned back to Potter with a curious expression. He was twisting his wand in between his fingers while his eyes were glued on the wooden surface of the counter.

I bit my lip before I decided to call for his attention. “Potter.”

He didn’t budge.

“Psst, Potter.”



“Ah, what?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “Why are you yelling, I’m right in front of you.”

I gave him a look. “Maybe because you’ve been ignoring me. Okay, seriously, Potter, please stop this nice guy act. It’s a little strange, to be honest.”

Potter lifted his gaze, looking amused. His hands came to a halt and the twisting stopped. “Nice guy act?” he repeated. “What are you on about this time?”

I frowned distastefully. “Don’t even try to play, Potter. You’re awfully… not an arse today.”

“And that’s a problem.” He concluded questioningly.

“Not necessarily…” I trailed off, unsure of how to word my thoughts without sounding like an utterly insensitive imbecile. “But it’s a big jump! I’d like you to be nice because you want to, Potter, not because you’re too distracted to be your regular arsehole self.”

“What makes you think I’m distracted?” he asked drily.

“Are you really going to try to deny it?”

He sighed. “Don’t start, Vic, please.” He pleaded. I was surprised that this came out as a plea, instead of a command. “I brought you to the kitchens to satiate your menstrual urges. The least you can do is distract me for as long as I please.”

I rolled my eyes. “So I guess this date came at a good time, huh?” I teased bitterly. “You don’t have to go scouring for your own personal form of a distraction. Particularly, a pair of long legs, and a nice round arse to go with it.”

“Don’t be bitter.” He scolded annoyingly. “I’m not going to lie and say that my willingness to go on this date had nothing to do with you being a… distraction.” I rolled my eyes and stiffened in my seat. He wasn’t choosing his words as carefully as I’d hoped. He suddenly made me feel like an object only good for materialistic and/or physical use. I knew that ‘distraction’ meant more to Potter than a couple of cheesy jokes and a pleasant conversation, and because of this, I felt… iridescently dirty. “But I will admit,” And then, Potter did something he’s never done before. Usually, He would sit back, smirk, and watch me flounder. Instead, he bent down slightly and recaptured my gaze with his. A small, faint smile settled on his lips, and it made him look more handsome than ever. In the span of those five seconds, his eyes — his fiery green eyes — managed to wordlessly coax me into the kind of assurance I did not know I needed. The small, insignificant act of sensitivity sent me down into an unwinding spiral until I found myself on my own two feet.

It was like Potter was a life-long expert in strapping me down and forcing me to breathe. Without him, I knew that in time, I would have suffocated and drowned. It was almost embarrassing, to be honest. The simple fact that Potter was able to calm me down so quickly forced me to rip my eyes away from his, childishly hoping that it would hide the blush that spread across my cheeks.

He chuckled, and I knew that my attempt had just been proven fruitless. “You know, Victoria, I didn’t know you could be so cute.” Finally, he dropped his piercing gaze, but his smile remained. “Anyway, it’s not important. Our food has arrived.”

There it was. The inevitable snap that would send me winding back into the pit of bubbling anger, compliments of Potter. “You’re an arsehole, Potter.” I spat, glaring daggers in his direction. “You can’t just leave me hanging like that!”

“Like I said.” He shrugged, pulling his sandwich in front of him. “It’s not important.”

James Potter

I had always been afraid of females and their monthly menstrual cycles. It was something in ever understood, and something I never wanted to understand.

During the summers I spent with the girls, there would always be two weeks (a month apart, of course) that I would personally consider, hell on Earth. Desmond, Tyler and I would always walk on eggshells, since we were all too afraid that we would do or say something that could potentially set one of them off like a bloody alarm. Regardless, during these two weeks, nothing we did would ever be good enough. Nothing we fed them would ever be good enough. Their cravings would go off the charts, and their emotions were as rocky as a fucking mountain.

There was one summer when Dominique missed her cycle. At first, I thought it was a good thing. I was happy, and thankful that there was one less emotional wreck in the house. But shit, I was so wrong. For days, she wailed and wailed, and took tests after tests, completely convinced that she had a baby in the bloody oven, regardless of what the tests told her.

In short, it was one shitty week.

I was surprised with myself when I willingly offered to take Victoria down to the kitchens in spite of her… dilemma. I had no idea what I was in for then, and as I watched Victoria heartily pour herself over a steak and kidney pie, I still didn’t know what the rest of the day could possibly bring. What I did know, however, was I sure as hell did not regret a single decision I made that morning.

I found myself enjoying her company more than usual. Before last night, the only reason I ever enjoyed Victoria’s company was because she proved herself useful in entertaining me to no end. Pissing her off and pushing her buttons became my hobby after meeting her during our first year. It was funny, and I was good at it. But lately, things were changing, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about it. It was no longer about pissing her off, or one-sided, mental bets to see how long she could last before she snapped. Lately, it’s been a lot more.

“Did you hear the Wicked Sisters’ new album?” she asked casually, shoving a spoonful of pie into her mouth. “I think it’s their best one yet, don’t you?”

I smiled and threw a napkin in front of her. “Yeah, I knicked Layla’s record after she spent an entire practice fangirling over the new lead singer.”

“It’s a little weird that it’s a guy, isn’t it? It’s misleading.”

My time with Victoria last night resurfaced in my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Ever since we parted in the common room late last night, or — I should say — early in the morning, I tried pinpointing the precise reason why I wanted her to stick around. As she disappeared up the staircase leading to the girls’ dormitories, I relentlessly tried to shove my unwelcomed desires down my fucking throat. It wasn’t physical, surprisingly enough. Sexual desires were long forgotten, and remained forgotten that entire night. My desires were solely… comfort and assurance, and somewhat… emotional.

It made me sick to my stomach mentally admitting something so… unfitting. Never once did I seek comfort in someone else, much less Victoria. I wasn’t even sure why I was so upset. All I should be feeling was anger. Desmond snogged my little sister, and refused to stop. He broke the fucking bro code — the unspoken promises between all bromances. Practical stopped at anger, maybe even pure rage. So why the fuck did I feel like there’s something more lingering beneath all this pent up anger?

“I feel at ease.” Victoria said suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I asked.

She was staring down at her half eaten pie, pushing a piece of meat around the bottom of her place. “After everything that happened last night, after everything that’s been happening lately, for that matter, it feels nice to dial down for a day.”

“This year is turning out to be a handful, isn’t it?” I agreed.

The image of Desmond feeling up my little sister re-entered my mind, for about the umpteenth time that day. The bloody bastard broke the pact and fucking betrayed me. I scowled openly. I was sure that she did not even have to ask in order to know why I was suddenly expressing such bitterness.

After I was unfortunate enough to have gotten caught on a bloody moving staircase, I wandered through some fucking forsaken corridor, and caught my little sister snogging my best friend. She had him against the wall, and they were snogging the living daylights out of each other. It was bloody disgusting, and I wanted to murder him. I came close to doing so, in fact, until Victoria came and charmed the both of us apart. Lily was, needless to say, furious without reason. I was, needless to fucking say, furious with reason. Desmond was guilty, as expected.

In my defense, the fucker knew what he was getting himself into even before he decided to set his hands on my sister.

And Victoria… Victoria was caught in the middle.

After dragging Lily back to the common room, and successfully locking her in her own dormitory for the night (I was bloody surprised I succeeded), I fled. Victoria was waiting in the common room, but I paid no attention to her. I assumed she was worried that I was going to spend the rest of my night hunting down a fucking Cupid. Without a single look or even a spec of explanation shot towards my friends, I left the common room in search of silence.

I made it to the fourth floor before I grew tired of walking. I hopped on a high windowsill and cracked it open with the intention of smoking. Without having to turn around, I knew Victoria had followed me, and at the time, I didn’t think much of it. I did, however, hesitate before pulling out the short, white stick she hated so much. But at that point, my anger and frustration dominated all logical and practical thoughts. I pulled out a cigarette anyway, and lit it before she reached me.

She joined me silently. She swung her legs over the windowsill, and slung them over the edge of the window as if she did not care that she was sitting four stories high with absolutely nothing keeping her from serious injuries. Surprisingly, she pulled a cigarette out of the small box and lit it.

I restrained myself from pointing out every ounce of hypocrisy in her smoking, and instead, I watched her with censored attentiveness, making sure that she was left unaware of my sudden interest. I watched as her cheek narrowed with every drag, and as her lips parted with each exhale. The smoke whisked around her like magic.

For the first time ever, she remained silent.

That was how I liked it.

Pulling myself back to reality, I forced the images of Desmond and Lily away, and willed myself to think of other things. Quidditch; the potions and transfiguration essay that are both sitting on my bed, unfinished; Dominique’s almost-depression; Quidditch; Victoria… “And it’s only November.”

“I don’t even what to think about what might be coming next.” Then, she sighed. “How did things get so out of hand? One year, everything is perfect; the next, everything is spiraling out of control.”

I chuckled with the intentions of hiding the bitterness that was dying to come out, but my control has been slipping these days. Or perhaps I just did not give a flying fuck anymore. “I guess that’s the price we pay for befriending a Cupid.”

Victoria laughed. It was a more genuine laugh than mine. “We didn’t know what we were taking on when we met Desmond. He’s the epitome of false labeling. His ‘normal teenage boy’ façade is incredibly misleading.” It was then when I realized how much I enjoyed listening to her speak. As annoying as I found her voice in the past, I just could not get enough of it. If I were to look at this through some kind of shitty psychological perspective, I’d come to guess that I had just realized the reason why I cannot seem to restrain myself from jumping at the first chance to argue with her. I, however, will never and would never, admit it out loud.

Fuck, I couldn’t believe it.

Fortunately, that’s what denial is for.

And I plan to remain swimming, and basking in all it’s glory for as long as I can.

“You’re awfully quiet today.” She pointed out before she prodded her fork with her tongue, and began absentmindedly outlining the rim. Her motions distracted me momentarily. “What’s on your mind, Potter?”


“Nothing.” I answered fast, before my mind could even finish its ridiculous thought.

Victoria frowned, obviously not buying my answer. “Nothing my arse.” She grumbled beneath her breath. Luckily, she didn’t push it. Surprisingly, she didn’t push it. “I’m craving salmon.” She announced to no one in particular. “Sushi…” Her mouth practically started watering. “Merlin, I want to be back in London.”

I chuckled. “Chocolate will have to suffice for now.” I pushed the slice of cake towards her, and instantly, she made a face. “Are you seriously rejecting chocolate?”

“I’ve lost my taste for chocolate.” She wrinkled her nose with distaste.

I gasped dramatically, before rolling my eyes. “Bloody women.” I scowled. “They never know what they want.”

Suddenly, a hateful expression swept over her face. “Don’t start with me, Potter.” She growled angrily.

“Are you kidding me? Is it my fault that women turn into indecisive brats when they’re on their period?”

“It’s your fault that you’re an insensitive prick.”

“It’s not being insensitive, it’s called being practical. It’s the plain truth, Vic, whether you like it or not.”

“Insensitive arse.” She spat. “If I’m that much of an ‘indecisive brat’, then why are you even here, Potter?”

“I fear that you might end up killing a house elf while you go on your all-you-can-eat binge.”

She scowled and then glared at me.

We couldn’t very well have gone through the entire afternoon without arguing once, now could we?

“Prat.” She muttered under her breath, before she pushed the plate away, jumped off the stool, and stormed off.

Despite myself, I chuckled, and stared down at the slice of cake that was roughly shoved closer in my direction. I was feeling strangely… pleasant, and much too pleased for someone who had just managed to tick someone off.

After relishing in this pleasure, I followed her exit — though I skipped the whole tantrum part — and once I left the kitchen, I jogged forward to catch up to her. All the while, I found it impossible to shake the smirk that took over my face.

Victoria was not that far ahead when I caught sight of her again. Her sweater flowed behind her as she tried to walk off as quickly as her legs would take her. In between now and when she stormed off, she had pulled her hair into a high ponytail.

It was...

“Ah, there she is.” I smiled cheekily once I managed to catch up with her. “That’s the Vic I know you all too well.”

She scoffed angrily, and kept her eyes glued forward, refusing to spare me even a single look. “The plain idea that this is all we know is pretty damn dysfunctional.” She spat.

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve never complained before.”

“I could never stand you before.”

“How about now?”

Finally, she stopped walking, only to turn and glare. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, and her jaw was tightened, a sign of frustration. I fucking loved seeing girls angry. Especially girls like Victoria. It was like unraveling a coiled spring. I just loved watching them falter and break down before me. I loved watching their eyes fire up, and not to mention that cute thing Victoria does with her lips… Anger was always my preference out of the full spectrum of human emotion girls simply insist on showing. It was ten times better than the waterworks.

I resisted a smirk.

“I still can’t stand you.” She said coldly. Without another word, she averted her gaze forward and kept walking.

This time, I didn’t even bother resisting the smirk that fought its way to my face.

We spent the rest of the way to Merlin-knows-where arguing relentlessly. She was annoyed, and I was more than amused.

“Why are you so bloody annoyi — Oh Merlin, fuck!” she yelped in pain. Suddenly, her arms wrapped around her waist, and she frowned after cursing loudly. “You know what I hate more than you, Potter?” she asked with a sour laugh. Without waiting for an answer, she said, “Being a girl. I hate being a bloody girl.”

“Er…” I could only guess what was going on. “Lady problems?” I asked hesitantly, watching as she bent over in pain.

“Is it not obvious?” she snapped irritably.

I glared at her. “You’re just as snarky as Lily.”

“Shut up,” she spat.

I rolled my eyes. “You shut it, Victoria. Suck it up. The faster we get back to the common room, the faster you can whine about it on a bed.”

Victoria glared angrily, but nevertheless, she straightened up slowly and followed me back to the common room. Occasionally, she would bend over in pain, and walk like that for about half a corridor, but thankfully, she did not whine or complain.

Once we got to the common room, she wordlessly followed me up to my dorm. I wasn’t sure why, but I found it completely normal, as if it was part of my routine. The moment I opened the door, she made a beeline towards my bed, and collapsed on the surface. She buried her face into my sheets and curled up into a ball, hugging herself tightly. “Ugh.” She groaned.

I dropped my wand on my bedside table, and shrugged off my shoes. “Maybe you should have eaten that chocolate cake. I’ve been told chocolate helps.”

“I don’t exactly need you promoting the amount of regret I’m harboring at the moment.” She muttered against the duvet. “Merlin, Potter, you’re an arse.”

I rolled my eyes while I flittered through my rucksack, in search for my potions textbook. In the end, I found it under Tyler’s bed. I decided to get started on that potions essay due Monday morning.

By the time I turned back to her, Victoria had pulled her hair out of its confines and had begun playing with a curly lock. She ignored me as I climbed on the bed and settled against a few propped up pillows by the headboard.

“What are you doing?” she asked passively, still scrutinizing over her lock of hair.

“Potions essay.” I answered. “Have you done yours yet?”

“Yup, finished it a couple of days ago. Layla forced me to sit in the library and finish it with her.”

“Ah, was that when you two came late to practice?”

“Again, Potter,” Vic snapped maliciously. “We were not late. Showing up five seconds after the scheduled time is not being late. It just means we have an anal captain.”

“You two were late.” I insisted stubbornly. Being late to Quidditch practice was something I, as a captain, could not tolerate.

She growled. “Kiss my arse, you prat.”

I chuckled in response as I wrote my name on the corner of a blank piece of parchment. It took a good ten minutes of silence to get half an introduction down. For some unfathomable reason, I had difficulty comprehending even the simplest idea in the textbook. My mind wandered elsewhere, straying away from the biological origins of medicinal herbs, and on countless occasions, I found myself completely forgetting my godforsaken essay was supposed to be about in the first place.

“You’re not focusing, Potter.” Her voice penetrated through my empty thoughts. It took several moments for my mind to register what she was referring to. “You’ve been staring at that blank page for almost twenty minutes now.” Victoria was now lying on her back, staring at the canopy of my bed.

Childishly, I made a face, and shifted my weight to my elbow. Regardless, I still tried to focus. I reread my pathetic excuse of an introduction over and over again before I finally decided to give up and search for more information. I flipped through the same chapter over and over again, trying to soak up anything.

After a good minute later, I finally gave up and sighed irritably. My gaze shifted towards Victoria, who was now tracing the patterns on my duvet. Without thinking, I took my quill, reached over, and grazed her ear with the tip of the feather.

She squirmed pleasantly and frowned. “Quit playing around!” she ordered. “Do your essay.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I scolded for the sake of picking a fight. Again, I reached over, and tickled her ear with the end of the quill; this time, more aggressively. “I didn’t know you were so ticklish.” I laughed as I watched her squirming against the bunched up duvet. “Would you look at that.” I smirked arrogant as I stared down at her. “The mighty Victoria Rose has a weakness.”

“I’m not ticklish!” She cried indignantly. She was still attempting to back away; squirming relentlessly until she hit the edge of the bed.

I let out a loud, bark-like laugh, and approached her slowly. My potions textbook, now completely forgotten, fell on the ground with a clutter. “I beg to differ.”

“I’m really not.” She insisted somewhat fearfully. “Trust me, Potter. It’s useless to even try.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try then, wouldn’t it?”

“You’ll look like am imbecile trying to tickle someone who’s not ticklish.”

I smirked. “I’ll take my chances.”

“This constitutes as sexual harassment.”

Before she managed to say anything else, I pounced. My hands immediately went for her waist, and I tickled the living daylights out of her. As expected, she screamed loudly the moment my hands came in contact with her body. She screamed, laughed, and squealed — all very pleasant sounds — relentlessly. Somehow, we both fell off the bed with a loud thud, and even then, I refused to stop.

And that’s how we spent our day. We shared the softness of my bed, and the warmth of my duvet. She laid beside me reading her book, while I pretended to be engrossed in my potions essay. There was the occasional snapping and, not to mention, the episodes of anger-caused silence we insisted on placing in between us every now and then. It was almost impossible to have a pleasant conversation, since Victoria snapped at every single ‘arsehole’ comment I came up with. Although I admit, I was being an arsehole.

By the time I climbed back into my bed that night, I laid quietly in the darkness, ignoring Desmond’s quiet sneak-in. My mind wandered, and I found myself thinking about Victoria. I mentally cursed at the thought. Forget Desmond sneaking around with your little sister. Forget the fact that Cupids are about to be exposed because he wasn’t careful enough. Forget the fact that your cousin is currently going through a funk because your best friend broke her heart. Forget the fact that it was all Desmonds’ fault that your cousins’ heart is practically shattered to the point of seemingly no fixture. Think about Victoria and how she snogged your brother last night. Think about how close she came to snogging you last night as well. Think about her laugh, the sound you spent your day immersed in. The sound you found incredibly pleasant. Why was my mind working the way it was?

I wasn’t sure of anything, to be frank. I wasn’t sure why it was impossible for me to fall asleep, even though it was two in the morning. I wasn’t sure why it was as though my brain found that it was more important to stay up, thinking about Victoria, than to catch up on the sleep I craved for.

The only thing I was sure of, however, was that not once throughout the entire day, did the thought of fucking Victoria ever spring into my mind like it always did. Even when she squirmed beneath me, and even when her shirt rode up and exposed her bare stomach.

Of course, it was only because she was pissing blood.

It better have been.


A/N: hey guys! so i know it's short, but at least the update came faster this time! leave your thoughts and whatnot :) i'll keep the chapters coming!

love, gryffgirl.

Chapter 21: Feather-Like Touches and Musty Old Tunnels
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The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Twenty One
Victoria Rose

Word about Tyler’s relentless search for the redhead he met at the Masquerade ball did not hesitate to spread like bloody wildfire. The entire female population of Hogwarts was talking about it, and a handful of girls even went as far as dying their hair red.

Frankly, it was sickening.

How desperate could some of these girls get?

Dominique was not taking the sudden buzz and excitement very well. Her eyes would narrow into thin slits every time she’d hear word about another girl preparing herself to claim the name of Tyler’s ‘mystery girl’. Once, she went as far as transfiguring a girls’ skirt into fabric plagued with soil-encrusted earth worms. Another time, she transfigured a Slytherins’ necklace into a potentially dangerous, 8-inch garden snake. Needless to say, Dominique has discovered another new, profound talent: transfiguration as a form of sabotage and/or revenge.

Tyler, as much as he enjoys attention from females with a pretty face and wearing a short skirt, grew more and more frustrated with each and every girl who professed their undying love for him while claiming “Cinderella’s” unknown identity. In his defense, the girls were more like animals scouring for food with solely survival on their minds.

“I think he’s going to go insane if he doesn’t find her soon…” Layla whispered, staring at Tyler’s profile from across the classroom. He was sitting in the front row, a punishment effective since day 1 of sixth year.

We were both twenty minutes into an extremely boring History of Magic lecture when Layla shook me out of my daze. She was slumped over her desk and had taken a liking to doodling on the back of the chair sitting in front of her. Earlier during the hour, she had discarded her robes and left it draped over the back of her chair. Her white oxford shirt was left unbuttoned completely, revealing a lacy, red top, tucked into her pleated, school-girl skirt.

From beside her, I noticed a Slytherin beater eyeing her with pure hunger. Layla, however, did not seem to notice at all.

“Tyler?” I asked.

Layla nodded, turning towards me. To the Slytherins’ dismay, the turn of her head caused her hair to fall over the entire right side of her body, blocking her breast from his view. “Look at him... He looks like a lost puppy for Merlin’s sake. Don’t you just want to grab some cute, innocent redhead and shove her in his direction?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start getting random idea’s now...”

“C’mon, Vic!” she exclaimed a little too loudly for whispering-in-class etiquette. I shushed her immediately. “Think of how happy Tyler will be when we finally find him the girl he’s been searching so vigorously for!”

“His searching is hardly vigorous.” I replied dryly. I picked up my quill and began doodling on my notes from last week. “There has barely been any searching done on his part.”

“Okay, so maybe he hasn’t been searching that hard, but we can end his misery and stop the abundance of girls swimming his way!” she suggested excitedly. “James can help us! Right, James?” she asked, swiveling around to face Potter. His seat was, coincidentally, behind mine. I turned along with her, unable to resist myself. Potter, however, was sleeping soundly, and was using his extended left arm as a pillow. “Never mind him. He’ll be filled in later.” She said, unfazed.

“Layla,” I sighed. “What about Dom? She’ll coil your own hair around your neck and transfigure it into barbed wire if you even attempt to cross her.”

“Of all people to suddenly be afraid of, you choose Dom?” she asked with disbelief. “Dom, the girl who is deathly afraid of mice? The girl who screams bloody murder whenever Fred’s bare foot comes within a vicinity of five feet? Seriously, Vic. Why are you so afraid of Dom all of a sudden? You’ve been walking on eggshells around her since the breakup.”

“If you haven’t noticed Layla, she’s not exactly happy with me at the moment.” I pointed out nastily. “I just don’t want to push things, that’s all.”

She took a quick glance at Binns before continuing. “Did you deliberately go out of your way to break Dominique and Tyler up?” she asked.

“No, but —“

“Did you slap Dominique across the face?”

“No, but —“

“Did you fuck Tyler in a broom closet while he was still involved with Dominique?”

“No, but —“

“Then you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.” She finished sternly.

“I can’t help it if I feel guilty. “

Layla sighed heavily. “Sometimes, I honestly think that you were born to be a Hufflepuff.” She almost sounded ashamed. If Layla was not Layla, I would have been offended.

“And sometimes, I think you belong more in Slytherin than you do in Gryffindor.” I retorted.

Playfully, Layla stuck her tongue out in my direction. Abruptly, as if she had known all this time that she was being watched, she whipped her head to the right and snarled. “Eyes off, perv!”

The Slytherin merely smirked with desire.

“Maybe if you actually buttoned up your shirt…”

“Shut up, Vic.”

I rolled my eyes and continued with my doodle.

Five more minutes passed before my mind began to drone out Binns’ unbelievably boring voice. My doodles became more and more absentminded as my mind strayed. Soon enough, I found myself swirling endless circles over my notes with a quill that was almost out of ink. The sound of chairs creaking under the weight of the students became the only sound my brain chose to accept. I was in my own little world, and Layla retreated back into hers.

And in my own little world, time slowed torturously the moment I felt a hand coil itself into the ends of my hair. I lifted my gaze from my doodle, and for few moments, focused on the empty chalkboard in the front of the room. The hand shortened to a finger and then expanded to two. My hair was effortlessly being twirled through a less frequent series of circular motion, by someone who rendered me breathless.

I turned around slightly, careful not to pull my hair from its coil around a nameless finger, only to find Potter in the same position he was in twenty minutes ago. His eyes were shut and his breathing remained steady. At that moment, reckoning that it was Potter playing with my hair would have seemed silly.

My eyes would have involuntarily remained glued to his face, if it were not for his hand pressing softly against my back, silently urging me to turn forward. For a moment, I hovered in hesitation before turning back to face the source of the stab-my-eye-pierce-my-skull boring lecture. The moment I straightened my posture, his hand slid off my back and resumed playing with strands of my hair. His hands were gentle — never in my life did I think that Potter knew how to be gentle to anyone who did not carry the name Weasley or Potter — and he seemed entirely too entertained by the locks’ bounciness.

I almost smiled at the innocent gesture. Instead, I pursed my lips and forced the smile back down my throat. The last thing I wanted was for Layla to witness something she could tease me with for the next week.

As an in-class-instinct, I sunk deeper into the seat and extended my legs further under the table.

My breath suddenly hitched in my throat the moment I felt his hands — hidden by my hair — travel up my shoulder blades to trace fire-bearing, back-and-forth lines across my bare neck. It was an odd sensation. It tickled and, at the same time, burned more than anything. The more feather-like touches caused sudden intakes of breaths, and lightning fast shivers racing up and down my spine. When the proximity between his finger and my skin became little-to-nothing, it felt similar to the fire of a thousand suns burning across my skin. Unintentionally and without thought, I loosened my tie and opened my oxford shirt three buttons wide.

I could almost hear Potter smirking against the table.

And then suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore. The playfulness, the fire, the teasing; everything was too much. My hand shot into the air, and I waited, with closed eyes, until Binns noticed my desperation.

“Miss Rose, question?”

“May I use the lavatory?”

He sighed heavily with weary eyes. He waved his hand behind him. “Go —” The rest of his sentence remained a mystery since I bolted for the door the minute he granted me permission.

I hadn’t realized the stuffiness that filled the History classroom until I was met by cool, refreshing air of the corridor. It was empty, just the way I hoped it would be. My walk to the lavatory was slow and painful. Even without contact, Potters fingers still trailed across the back of my neck, moving in slow, torturous motions. The sensation still existed, as if he was still seated behind me pretending to be asleep.

I ran my hand over the back of my neck, hoping to somehow ease the unfamiliar sensation. As pleasurable as that experience was, all I wanted was for the fire to dissipate. Feeling like I was the epitome of one hundred miles a minute, a sharp, frustrated cry immediately crept through the emptiness. I was harboring unwanted fire — passion, some might even call it — that Potter refused to put out. I bolted for the girls lavatory and hoped that the sudden acceleration would help leave my troubles behind.

James Potter

I skived class to hide out in the far end of the library. Pince was busy sorting the books in the restricted section after Scorpius and Fred managed to rearrange everything. Needless to say, they’re banned from the library for the rest of their lives.

My twelve pack was practically finished, and I was on my third cigarette of the hour. The window was cracked wide open, just incase the odor called for Pince to throw a screaming fit. I was smoking more than usual lately. Each time I thought about how bad the habit was, my hand absentmindedly reached for another cigarette, and before I could even comprehend what I was doing, I was already exhaling my first drag. By the time I realized how much I willed myself to quit, a voice in my mind forced me to keep going. I didn’t want to quit for everybody else, no matter how many times the disappointed faces of Layla and Victoria popped into my mind.

A bitter laugh, along with remnants of smoke escaped my lips. If only Victoria could see me smoke my fucking life away. Perhaps she’d fall out of love with me and find someone like Greyson, and fucking live happily ever after. Merlin knows it’s been a life-long dream for her; a fairytale-type life.

I took another drag and tapped the ashes off the tip.

My sister refused to even spare me a glance. Her situation with my best mate put me in the largest black hole ever. I knew all about growing up. I was in a race to grow up, and so was the rest of my generation. We partied, we drank, we smoked, lost our innocence, and our morals flew out the window. I knew all about that.

But Lily, my baby sister, I wanted something better for her. Not some fucking magical creature who’s not even sure if he’s allowed to fall in love himself.

“James.” My brother’s voice captured my attention. I turned away from the window to watch him plant himself on the empty table in front of me. He grabbed the box of cigarettes from the window sill, pulled one out, and lit it with his wand. He took a drag, and exhaled with relief.

“I thought you only smoked that healthy shit.” I said, looking away and taking a drag.

“Desperate times call for desperate measure.” My brother answered. “If I’m not mistaken, you have class.”

“So do you.” I retorted.

“Look, James, about Victoria…”

I shot a warning look in his direction. “Don’t start with me, Al.”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” He replied. “I just wanted to clear up some rumors… I know that they’re spreading like the bloody plague.” He ran his hand through his hair before taking a drag. “That night of the ball… we kissed.”

“I know.”

“And it meant nothing.”

“I know.”

“So… you’re not mad?”

I shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. “Should I be angry?”

“Forgive me, brother, but you’re not exactly known for being the calmest person when it comes to circumstances such as this.”

“Circumstances such as what, exactly?”

“When another guy touches your girl.”

I almost growled, but instead, I took a drag. “Victoria’s not my girl.” I stated plainly. The moment her name slipped off my tongue, I recalled playing with Victoria’s hair in History of Magic. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but it was amusing to feel her squirm beneath my fingers. It was risky business, openly flirting with Victoria in the middle of class, but I couldn’t help it. My fingers moved on their own accord, and all I could do was relish in her discomfort, the softness of her skin, and the bounciness of her hair. However, by the time she ran out of class to go to the lavatory, I wanted her so badly that I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

Albus raised his eyebrows at me. “Oh really?” he asked. “So you don’t mind if I…” he shrugged. “To be honest, I kind of enjoyed that kiss… You won’t mind if I snog her again, will you? I was actually thinking… casual sex.”

I must have taken the longest drag of my life in order to restrain myself from severely denting Albus’ face with my fist.

“Since she’s not your girl, you won’t mind, right?” He was testing me. He was fucking pushing me to see how far I could go before I snapped and beat him into a bloody pulp. “I mean, Victoria is pretty hot… she’s got ridiculous curves. And Merlin, that arse —” Albus stopped the minute I dangerously narrowed my eyes in his direction. He smirked, and took a drag. “Look at yourself.” He said. “You can’t even take it when someone other bloke jokes about touching her.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to get back to?” I snapped irritably as I flicked the stub of my cigarette out the window. “Doesn’t she care that you snogged Victoria?”

“Do you know how I got that girlfriend?” Al asked, completely ignoring my question. “I stepped up, swallowed my pride, and admitted that I fancied her. Now, she’s mine, and I’m the only one who can touch her. Trust me, James, there are a million other guys in this castle who would kill to get their hands on her.”

My jaw clenched at the thought.

He rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just admit it? You fancy her, you arsehole.”

I grimaced distastefully, looking away once more. “So what if I do?”

Victoria Rose

“So did you hear?” Layla shuffled over after class and linked her arm around mine. “Priscilla Peters got caught doing the dirty in the broom closet near the teachers’ lavatory on the second floor during the ball.”

I was not surprised. For the past two days, ever since the stupid Masquerade Ball, the rumor mill refused to stop churning. There were countless of students getting month’s worth of detention from getting caught fucking in public areas, and, not to mention, from possession of alcohol. Girls cheated on their boyfriends and boys cheated on their girlfriends. Couples broke up, and girls threw fits.

All in all, it was as normal as any Hogwarts dance could possibly get.

“Doing the dirty with whom?” I asked, crinkling my nose. “Please, oh Merlin, please tell me it was not with Shane Pac.”

“No.” she shook her head. “It was with Mike.”

I frowned. “Hufflepuff Beater Mike?”

“Priscilla’s best friends’ boyfriend, Mike.”

“So Sheryl’s boyfriend, Mike.”


I looked at her. “Layla, Sheryl’s boyfriend Mike and Hufflepuff Beater Mike is the same Mike.”

“But more importantly, it’s Sheryl’s boyfriend Mike.”

I sighed. She was right. “Poor Sheryl.”

“Poor Sheryl indeed.” Layla nodded in agreement. “But anyhow, that’s besides the point. You, my bestest friend in the whole wide world, neglected to tell me that you snogged Albus Potter, or shall I say, the brother of the boy who you’re so madly in love with.”

“News really does travel in this school, doesn’t it.” I stated dryly, completely unsurprised.

“Don’t try to change the subject!” she exclaimed. “What the hell happened? You snogged Little Albus! That’s like.. snogging my younger brother.”

“We didn’t purposely snog!” I defended. “We were still in our masks, and we both looked different. Honestly, I thought he was Potter, and he thought I was Ginger!”

“So you two snogged.” Her tone irritated me more than usual. “Did it not occur to either one of you to — oh I don’t know — check before you go around snogging random people?”

“He really sounded like Potter!”

“They’re brothers!” she retaliated. “Of course they’re similar, regardless of how much they deny it.” Completely out of arguments, and simply tired of trying to defend the most innocently-accidental situation, I remained silent. “Did James find out?”

“Of course he found out. It’s bloody impossible for anyone to keep a secret in this school.”

“I take it that he wasn’t too happy.”

“We fought again.”

“Fought and made up?”

I shrugged. “When do Potter and I ever officially make up.”

Layla sighed. “Oh, you two.” She nudged me playfully, and I couldn’t resist a smile. “I have a theory.”


“Yeah.” She nodded as we passed a bunch of Slytherin’s who wolf-whistled as we passed. I abruptly felt awkwardly average with Layla standing right beside me. She ignored the whistling with years and years of practice, and continued. “I think that you and James and just so similar — both good, and bad — that you two just cannot get along.”

“I don’t comprehend.”

“Think about it. You two are always butting heads, and yet, you’re like a female version of James, and he’s a male version of you.”

“We’re always butting heads because we disagree.”

“And why do you always disagree?”

“Because Potter is so self-righteous.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Because he’s an arse.”

“See! You can’t even give me a proper answer. That’s exactly what James said when I brought it up.”

“That little bugger called me self-righteous?” I asked incredulously.

“That’s besides the point.”

I scoffed. “Arrogant prick.”

“You’re straying off topic here.”

“What is with you and everyone else trying to shove Potter and I together?”

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently. Layla was never good at playing innocent. Her eyes widen, but she fails to hide the playfulness in her expression.

I scowled. “I mean, ever since we were young, it’s always been me and Potter! Would all of you give it a rest already? Merlin, Des even went as far as shooting me with his bloody arrow.”

“Maybe because the two of you could never be more perfect for each other?” she suggested. “C’mon Vicky. If everyone else can see it, why can’t the two of you?”

“Because we just don’t, okay? We’ve never been on that romantic level like the rest of you seem to believe. And we never will be.”

“You know,” the playfulness in her tone dissipated and her gaze moved forward, as if my words had just stung her in the most personal way possible. “The victimized-love-struck Victoria from a couple of months ago would have been ecstatic hearing that. In fact, she would have gone on and on about just how much she was in love.”

“Time changes things.” I answered quickly. “Now leave it alone. We have class.”

Left it alone, she did.

We headed to the end of the corridor where our classroom was located. The large wooden door was propped open, revealing our shameless tardiness. The rest of the class was already seated and scribbling away the first set of notes. I bit my lip as Layla and I rushed towards the door.

“Sorry, Professor.” Layla apologized for the both of us. “We forgot our textbooks in our room.”

As she veered around the next two rows of desks to quickly reach her seat, I blindly followed behind her with my head turned. My attention was directed towards a nearby tapestry down the perpendicular corridor, for there was Desmond, snogging Potter’s baby sister.


Class ended fairly slowly. I sat beside Layla, mentally debating whether or not I should tell her what’s been going on for the past two days. The monsters living within my conscience urged me to fess up, regardless of how Layla may take the news. I was her best friend, and it was my duty to tell her the truth no matter how much it hurts. However, there was another part of me, and a more logical part of me, that didn’t want to tell her, because once the news inevitably shatters her heart into a gazillion pieces, I’d have another Dominique Weasley in my life. And last but not least, there was Desmond. Telling Layla would be like betraying him, but not telling Layla would mean betraying her.

Welcome, ladies and gents, to the life and tribulations of Victoria Rose. Front seat tickets will be a grand total of zero dollars, because my life fucking sucks.

When class was finally over, Layla pulled me out of the classroom and immediately began planning the next couple of weeks while I listened with a closed ear. My mind was elsewhere, and I was definitely not that interested in the next few Hogsmeade trips or the next two Quidditch games.

“Hey, you.” A soft, calming voice captured my attention.

I turned while Layla was still in mid sentence, and came face to face with Austin. “Hey yourself.” I smiled.

“Hi Layla.” He greeted politely.

“Austin.” She nodded curtly. I almost rolled my eyes. Bloody Potter/Victoria shipper. Austin grew quiet while his eyes shifted from Layla, to me, and back again. I suddenly felt awkward standing in between them and made a futile attempt to make myself look as small as possible. “Well then…” Layla began, finally catching on. “I’ve got to go look for my arse of a Quidditch captain to settle some unfinished business. I shall see you later.” She directed to me. “See you around, Austin!”

“Oh, Layla!” Austin called before Layla managed to get very far. “Er, well you see…” he began as he jogged forward to close the distance between them. “I have a friend.”

“You have a friend.” Layla repeated.

“And he seems to be really into you.” He continued, seemingly unsure of himself. His right hand flew up to the back of his head as if he was nervous.

Something Potter usually does.

Fuck, Victoria, stop it.

“What’s your friend’s name?” she quirked an eyebrow.

“Johnny.” He answered.

“Ravenclaw Johnny?”

He nodded. “Look, I don’t know if you’re in a relationship, or what, but I’m just doing the guy a favor. He’s really into you, and he wants to know if you’re… er… willing to spend the next Hogsmeade day with him?”

Layla frowned and I bit my lip with anticipation. I knew Johnny. He was my potions partner in my second year, and a nice guy. But I knew how badly shyness turns Layla off, and Johnny did not stand a chance under her scrutinizing.

“Why doesn’t Johnny approach me himself?” she asked.

“You see… he’s a little… well he’s a little shy.” Austin answered. “You can be a little intimidating, and he’s never really spoken to you before so…”

To my surprise, Layla shrugged and said, “Sure. But tell him to come talk to me before hand.”

Austin looked incredibly pleased with her answer. “Not a problem.” He gave her a lopsided grin before she returned his smile with one of her own. “You don’t have to like him or anything, but it’d be nice if you gave him a chance.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, Willow. I’m not going to devour the boy after one date.” She said playfully. “That comes later.” She gave him a teasing wink before sauntering off, and leaving Austin and I in an almost empty corridor.

“I’m thoroughly surprised.” I commented, staring after Layla. “She’s not really the type to give a guy like Johnny a chance.”

“A guy like Johnny?” Austin almost looked offended.

“Oh, no! I don’t mean it like that. I just meant, she’s not the kind of girl who can tolerate painfully shy boys.” I corrected myself. “Layla is more of the bad-boy type.”

He shrugged as we began walking to nowhere in particular. I had a free period, and Austin — I had no idea what Austin had.

“But I’m glad she’s giving him a chance.” Desmond and Lily immediately popped into my mind.

“That actually brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about.” He began as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Please don’t think I’m prying in any way. I’m just, concerned.” I nodded. “Earlier today, I was on my way to find you before your next class. I haven’t seen much of you lately, and you came to mind, so…”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Well I was just getting to that.” He said. “I ran into Dom, and she told me what your next class would be, so I went, and on my way there, I ran into…” He hesitated. “I ran into Pierce and Lily.”

My mouth went dry and my body tensed. Was that why he offered Layla a blind date just now? “Oh.” Was all I could conjure at the moment.

“Were they always…?”

I shook my head. “No. It all happened very suddenly.”

“I take it Potter doesn’t know?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because Pierce is still alive.”

I laughed loudly, despite myself. “Potter knows.”

“Well then, I must say, I am very surprised.” She said. “But I thought Desmond and Layla…”

“Is that why you set Layla up?” I asked him. “Because you found out about Desmond and Lily, and you felt sorry for her?”

“No!” he answered immediately. “No, John’s been bugging me about it for a long time now, and well… to be honest, after finding out that things between her and Desmond were potentially over, I took my chance. But no, it wasn’t because I felt sorry for her.”

“She doesn’t know yet.” I told him. “So please don’t say anything. We’re still… Potter and I are still trying to figure that part out.”

Austin nodded silently. “No, of course, I won’t say anything.”

I managed to offer a small smile.

“By the way, what was with that poem you sent out after the ball?” he asked curiously. “Everyone in the castle got it.”

I sighed heavily. “Ignore it. It’s just someone trying to play a joke.” At this point, hiding my bitterness and annoyance became difficult.

Austin, who seemed to have caught on with my current mood, thankfully decided to drop the subject and lighten the mood somehow. “Can I walk you to your next class?” he asked.

“I actually don’t have class until four.” I said. “I was planning on squeezing in a nap before class.”

“Well, I am officially late for charms.” He chuckled. “But hey, er,” He looked nervous again. His hand shot up to the back of his head, and he ruffled his hair with an uncertain expression. “Do you want to watch the Quidditch game together this weekend?”

“Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw?”

He nodded.

“Sure. I’ll meet you after breakfast.” Although, somehow, somewhere, in the back of my mind, there was a small inkling that something or someone would swoop in and plant a more pressing/mandatory event and keep me from going to the Quidditch game. In short, I had a feeling it was never going to happen, but I remained quiet. Instead, I smiled at him sweetly, and nudged his arm. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to charms.”


After walking Austin to Charms, he offered a soft kiss on my cheek as a goodbye. As nice as the gesture was, I found it difficult to muster up a genuine smile. My mood was shot to hell early during the day when Layla informed me of the spreading rumors, and there was no way one kiss from Austin was going to fix that. Regardless, I didn’t have the heart to show him my lack of affection/satisfaction, so I forced one last smile before he disappeared behind the closing door of the charms classroom.

The last thing I heard before the door came to a complete shut was, “Sorry I’m late, Professor. I just ran into the prettiest girl…”

Needless to say, his words made my stomach lurch pleasantly. However, it still was not enough for me to soar up to cloud nine, sit there, and bask in my happiness. Or run around the corridors like a blithering idiot with a goofy smile on my face just because an attractive boy told Professor Flitwick that I was the prettiest girl.

I ran my hand through my straightened hair, effectively messing it up. I made a beeline for the Gryffindor Common Room, with sleep being the only thing on my mind.

Potter was lounging in the common room when I arrived. He had skived his class, and instead, was pouring over a book I had read last year.

“Don’t you ever worry that you’re going to fail Care of Magical Creatures since you’re always skiving?” I didn’t even bother with a hello.

“Hello to you too, Victoria.” He flipped a page.

As I walked by, I reached over the back of the couch, and pinched his nose.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the library with Layla?” he asked, swatting my hand away. “She went off to look for you.”

“If you happen to see her, tell her I’m going to take a nap before class.” I said, heading straight for the staircase. “I’m exhausted.”

I didn’t bother waiting for an answer before I trudged up the stairs, up the girls’ staircase, and into the sixth-year girl’s dormitory. I shrugged off my robes, kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned my oxford shirt, and loosened my tie before I climbed into bed and snuggled against the duvet. Within a couple of minutes, I was out like a light.

I dreamt that a large man with a strawberry shaped head was chasing me with a muggle shotgun. His face was dark, partially because of his skin tone, and partially because of the shadow created by the large hat he wore on his head. His eyes were as white as a storm, abnormally lacking pupils. In my dream, I was incapable of running. Speed-walking seemed to be my only option, which made it even more frightening. My mind knew it was a dream, but that didn’t stop a very life-like kind of fear to swell up in my chest as I slept. From beneath my blanket, blood turned cold, and yet, my skin remained heated. I wanted to run. I wanted to escape my fear.

Before I knew it, he was screaming my name. He was running after me, shouting my name over and over again with a menacing tone. No matter how much faster I tried to run, my legs refused to listen.


I wanted to keep running.


Please let me keep running.


I woke up thrashing against the duvet with my second pillow flying across the mattress. A large hand wrapped around my wrist just as it impulsively snapped up in defense. The moment my eyes opened, I found myself staring into Potter’s pair of large brown eyes. For a moment or two, my mind failed to register the fact that Potter was in my bedroom, holding onto my wrist, and staring intently. My chest heaved as it struggled for as much oxygen as possible, and my skin felt like it was on fire.

For a while, we didn’t say a word to one another. His grasp loosened, but his hand remained wrapped around my wrist. Wordlessly, Potter finally released my wrist and fixed the duvet to completely cover my body. He wiped away the hair plastered across my forehead, an unfortunate result of cold sweat, and removed the suffocating tie around my neck.

Wordlessly, he climbed under the covers, facing me.

I frowned, unsure of what he was trying to do. As much as I wanted to push myself further across the bed, I stayed put, giving potter less than enough space to accommodate himself. My breath hitched the moment Potter wrapped his arm around my waist and drew me closer. He locked me against his chest and fixed the duvet around the both of us. In less than a minute, I felt myself relaxing in his arms. In the short time we laid together, Potter managed to pull me down from a million miles an hour to something completely human. My chest was no longer heaving heavily and begging for air, and the chills that rushed through my body were gone.

By the time I finally caught myself, Potter was curling a strand of hair in between his fingers, while his other hand traced lazy patterns on my lower back. I pressed myself deeper against him, milking the situation for all it was worth. Surprisingly, Potter pulled me closer the moment he felt me move beside him. He wrapped his arm tighter around me and my head was pressed deeper against the crook of his neck.

“It’s four-thirty.” Was the first thing Potter said. I felt the treble of his voice against my face. “You over slept.”

“Hm,” was all I managed to say.

“Bad dream?”

I nodded.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” he asked with amusement in his voice.

My eyebrows knitted into a frown. “What did I say?” I asked.

“James Potter is the hottest, most sexiest, gorgeous guy on the face of this earth…”

I roughly pulled myself away from Potter with a scowl. He laughed loudly, disregarding my display of disgust.

What can I say? Good things never last.


“IT’S HOPELESS GUYS.” Tyler barged in, shrieking like a mad man.

After ultimately deciding that it was not worth it, attending the last twenty minutes of class, Potter and I stayed in my dorm, lounging on my bed. We were not as close as close as my post-nightmare arrangement, but he still managed to steal my fucking breath away with every miniscule movement. Our body heat merged beneath my duvet, making it incredibly pleasant to be snuggled comfortably beside him. We remained silent, knowing that if we even thought about starting a conversation, we would simply start an unnecessary argument.

The moment the door swung open with impeccable force, I bolted upright, while Potter, remained on his back with right arm tucked behind his head.

“IT’S BLOODY HOPELESS!” Tyler cried, stepping through the threshold with Layla hot on his heels. He collapsed by the foot of my bed, while Layla planted herself beside me.

I stared at them with confusion. “Am I the only one who thinks this is totally weird? How did you even get up the stairs?”

“The same way Jamesie came up here.” Tyler answered flatly. “Honestly, Vic, six years of us sneaking up to your dorm and you still don’t know how we do it.”

“Would someone like to enlighten me?” I asked, turning to Potter.

He grinned goofily in my direction. “Not a chance.”

“Like I was saying!” Tyler exclaimed. “It’s bloody hopeless.”

“He was just bombarded with a flock of girls.” Layla explained, trying her best not to show just how hilarious she found the situation. “They were a bunch of blondes and brunettes, and each one of them claim that they’re Tyler’s mystery girl.”

“Why don’t you just pick out every redhead in the castle?” I questioned. “Wouldn’t that be easier? There’s only a handful.”

“The problem is,” Layla began. “The majority of the redheads in this castle are related to James.”

“I think it’s safe to rule out Lily.” I pointed out softly. “And Roxy. If you claim that this girl spent the entire night with you, it couldn’t have been her.”

Tyler frowned. “Why not?”

I stole a glance at Potter, recalling our almost-kiss outside the Great Hall. “I saw her, sometime during the night.”

“She was in the girls’ lavatory with me.” Layla piped up. “She witnessed that little spat between me and some girl.”

“Then who’s left?” Tyler asked.

“Mate, what’s so great about this girl anyway?” Potter questioned. “You spent a couple of hours with her, and now you’re going bonkers trying to find her. She couldn’t have been that special.”

Tyler sighed. “She’s… Mate, she’s amazing. She’s unlike any other girl I’ve met before.” He answered in a dream-like voice. “To be honest, she reminds me a lot of you three.” He pointed to Layla and I. “You two, plus Dom. She’s like the outcome of a merger between the three of you, except she’s a lot more feminine. She’s… she’s so bloody real.”

“Er… and the other girls you’ve been with wasn’t?” I asked flatly.

“She cares about so much more than going to next week’s Quidditch match together, or attending the celebratory party as a pair. There’s more on her mind than just homework, and classes.”

“You got all that from a mere couple of hours?” Potter questioned with disbelief. “Mate, it sounds like you’re in love.”

Tyler laughed bitterly. “To be honest, I think Des did pretty well in messing up my perception of love. All I know, mate, is that I like her. A lot. And I want to get to know her, and walk around holding her hand, and go on dates with her, and fall asleep with her…” In a dream-like state, Tyler sighed happily, and with a smile, collapsed against my mattress. He was love-struck, and this time, not because a Cupid aimed a bow at his ass. This time, it was for real.

“Don’t worry, Tyler.” I smiled. “You’ll find her soon.”

At that precise moment, the door swung open a second time and Dominique stepped inside. Her eyes immediately fell on the four of us, nestled on my bed, staring at her with wide eyes. Tyler was the first to look away. He turned around and glued his eyes on the patters of Layla’s socks. I was the next to look away, feeling incredibly uncomfortable sitting in the sudden tension-filled room.

“Come join us, Dom.” Layla beckoned.

She shook her head as she made a beeline for her bed. “I just came up here to pick up something for Lily.”

“Lily’s downstairs?” James asked.

Dom shook her head. “She said she’d be here in about twenty minutes. She asked me for a favor, and me being the nice cousin that I am, had no choice but to oblige.”

“Did she tell you anything recently, by any chance?” I asked quickly. The four of them looked at me with a look of surprise. I was shocked too, not expecting myself to suddenly break the tension between us.

Dominique’s eyebrows knitted into a frown. “No. She didn’t. Is there something I should know?”

“No.” Potter beat me to it. “Nothing except my mum and dad says hi.”

She rolled her eyes. “Send them my love as well, if you ever get over your laziness and decide to write back to your own parents.”

“I’m seeing them in less than two months, anyway. They can manage.” He shrugged the matter off with a wave of his hand.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The four of our heads turned towards the closed window. Dominique, being the closest, unclasped the lock, allowing the dark brown owl to swoop into the room and drop a letter on my lap.

It was a small piece of hard paper with messy penmanship scribbled on the back.

South Court Yard
Ten Minutes
- J

“What is it?” Layla asked.

I took stole a nervous glance at Potter, only to find him staring back at me with curiosity. “Professor wants to see me for missing class.” I lied. “Apparently I missed a lot of work.”

Without casting another glance in Potters’ direction, I slowly climbed out of bed and grabbed my shoes before heading for the door. Before walking out, I caught the apprehensive look on Dominique’s face, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make a clean getaway.

She followed me until we were standing in the almost empty common room. “Since when do any of the Professors owl students for missing classes?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Everyone in that room can tell when you’re lying, Vicky. And you, were lying.”

“Leave it alone, Dom. Potter would’ve thrown a fit if I told him the truth.”

“And what is the truth?” she interrogated with a hard look on her face.

“Greyson owled me. He asked me to meet him in the courtyard in ten minutes.” I explained. “Please don’t tell him.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you into this boy?” she asked. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with him lately.”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I definitely don’t fancy him. We’re just friends.” I said. “Nothing more.”

A moment of silence passed over us. Dom nibbled on her bottom lip as she kept her eyes glued to the ground. “Hey, er, after you’re finished with Greyson, can we talk?” she asked. “I just… I have some things to tell you.”

Trust Dominique to be the most awkward person when it comes to apologies.

“Sure.” I said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchens in an hour or two?”

I hummed all the way down the stairs, and to the south side of the castle. Today was the epitome of a deviation from my normal school day, and it was exactly what I needed. Staying in after class was more than enough to somewhat lighten my mood, despite my nightmare. I, however, refuse to admit the large part that Potter played in making my day 99.99% better. I refuse.

Passing a large tapestry on the second floor, I decided to take the shortcut Potter and Tyler showed me about two years ago. It led straight to the cellar of the clock tower and placed me perfectly in front of the south court yard. The tapestry was thick, heavy, and much too musty for my liking. The tunnel was no better. It was dark, narrow, and humid. I was positive that by the time I reached the other end, my hair would have transformed into a giant untamable, poof-ball monster. Waking through the dark, empty, and disgusting tunnel was faster than I anticipated. The moment I saw light squeezing through the entrance at the other end, I almost squealed for joy. Only a couple more steps until I can bask in familiar, luscious daylight once again.

Once I reached the cellar door, I struggled with the latch. It was old and rusted by the humidity trapped within the stone walls. Eventually, the old metal clicked and with enough pressure applied, I managed to lift the door with both my hands. I was showered with dust, and I groaned with disgust. Sunlight immediately squeezed through the wider opening just as voices filled what was once silence.

“Merlin, why can’t you just listen to me?” The voice sounded frantic, and awfully familiar. “He saw me! He has an idea who I am!”

“He doesn’t know!” A second voice roared. It was Desmond. My heart jumped and I was suddenly afraid to find out who he was arguing with, and what they were arguing about. “All he knows is that you’re a redhead!”

“And how many redheads are there in this school?” she demanded. “You can count them on one hand, Desmond!”

“So what are you saying, Lily?”

Okay… I would have gasped dramatically, but I realized just how much this did not surprise me.

“I don’t know, okay? We’re already deep in a pile of shit right now. My situation with Tyler doesn’t exactly help.” She snapped irritably. “He’s turning the entire castle over trying to look for me.”

Cue the dramatic gasp.

Well turn me over and fuck me sideways.

A/N: SORRY AGAIN GUYS! i'm trying my best to update quick but i'm plagued with never ending writers block. ): i'm not entire happy with this chapter, but this is as good as it gets for now ): unfortunately.

please review! tell me what you guys think so far! :)

love, gryffgirl

Chapter 22: Unforeseen Meals, and Greenhouse Gases
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Twenty-Two
Victoria Rose

When we were twelve, I witness Desmond losing his very first kiss to his very first almost-girlfriend. Layla Miller. They were sitting alone by the black lake (until I came along, of course) after Dominique and Layla got into a fight about something completely irrelevant to my story. The two completely innocent twelve year olds kissed, and once they parted Layla’s face broke out into the biggest smile I have ever witnessed. I knew, at that precise moment, that they were meant to be together.

Four years, and a hundred million fights later, here he was, hooking up with his best mates’ baby sister.

“I don’t know, okay? We’re already deep in a pile of shit right now. My situation with Tyler doesn’t exactly help. He’s turning the entire castle over trying to look for me.”

My mind wandered back to my dormitory, where Tyler expressed his newfound feelings for a complete stranger he met two nights ago. I recalled the smile that formed on his face as he described her genuineness and the personality he seemed to have fallen in love with. He found the girl that was a perfect balance between the three of his extremely radical best-girl friends. Now, I couldn’t fucking believe that this girl turned out to be Lily Potter.

“We have to tell him the truth, Lily.” Desmond urged. “He’s my best mate, we can’t do this to him!”

“If we tell him, then there’s more than a fat chance that our relationship will become public.” She pointed out. “I can’t let that happen, Desmond. Not when my family makes up a fourth of the castle.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” She snapped furiously. “I’m being smart, which is what you should try doing. My brother is no longer speaking to you because he found out about us! He’s been silent ever since, but we both know that it’s not going to last. We can’t expect him to just be okay with this.”

I felt a sudden wave of remorse once I thought about just how betrayed Potter must feel.

“And Tyler!” Lily exclaimed before Desmond could counter her argument. “Like you said! He’s your best mate! How would he take this news?”

“The storm will only get worse the longer we put this off.” He reminded her.

“What about Layla, Desmond?” she asked with soft eyes and a significantly lowered tone. “What are you going to tell her?”


Before I could hear his answer, a pair of nameless hands grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me away from the exit. My initial reaction was to scream for my life, but the stranger pinned me against the wall and clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling any sound that escaped. I came face to face with Scorpius’ blazing eyes. He pressed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing me for the time being. Slowly, he retracted his hand from my mouth, but the finger to his lip and the ferocity in his eyes reminded me to stay silent.

Through the now closed exit, Desmond and Lily’s voice became muffled blurs. I could no longer make out the details of their words, forcing my curiosity to grow with every passing moment. What was clear, however, was the sound of a seemingly large door creaking open. Another muffled voice joined the duo, and soon, there was silence.

My gaze moved back to Scorpius, whereas his, remained locked towards he exit as if he was waiting for something. Without a word, he slowly moved forward and opened the latch with ease, before beckoning me to follow him out of the mustiness. Daylight hit me like a curse, piercing my eyes until I was forced to shut them tightly. Scorpius grabbed me by the elbows and hoisted me out of the tunnel.

Finally, I opened my eyes to scan my surroundings. “They’re gone.”

“Rose called Lily back.” Scorpius answered, turning his back to me.

“Rose?” I asked, confused. “Hold on, how did you know where I was?”

He planted himself on a wooden picnic table and sat with his elbows pressed against his thighs. “The map, of course. Rose wanted me to follow you while she distracts Lily and Desmond.”

I was confused. I followed Scorpius’ tracks and planted myself beside him. At that point, all thoughts of Greyson left my mind. “So… I’m confused.” I stated plainly.

Scorpius sighed. “Rose figured it out last night after she caught Lily sneaking into the common room way past curfew.”

“So she knows about Lily and Desmond.” I clarified.

“And now she knows about Tyler and Lily.” He added.

“What? How?”

He shrugged and smiled with unashamed pride. “With cleverness that outwits any Slytherin in this castle.”

“So why did she send you to me?”

“She figured you already knew, and if you didn’t, well you would have figured it out eventually. I guess she rather have me explain it to you without making a big mess of things.”

I nodded slowly, still not fully understanding Roses’ intentions. “So explain.” I said.

Scorpius took a deep breath. “I don’t understand women.” He said plainly. “Never have, never will. So this entire threesome going on between Lily, Desmond and Tyler, I understand a whopping total of zero percent.”

I quirked a brow. “Rose sent you all the way here to tell me just how much you don’t understand the situation?”

“It’s all very confusing…” Scorpius said. “Desmond and Lily never hooked up until the night of the ball. Ever since then, well I guess you can say that they’ve been going at it like rabbits.” I cringed at the thought. “I suppose there was some mix up between identities? Or at least that’s Rose’s theory. Or maybe Lily just completely jump shipped in the middle of the night and met Tyler, when of course, she didn’t know who he was. They talked for the night, and then, wham! There goes Tyler’s sanity.”

“And this is all just a theory?” I asked.

“Well… Lily did admit to meeting two guys that night.”

“Did she say what she’s planning to do now?”

He shrugged. “I suppose she’s going to mull things over until her brain is fried, make a decision, and then change it over and over again…”

“Your perception of women seriously concerns me.”

“Rose says the same things.” He grinned. “I trust you won’t tell anyone about this? Especially James and Albus.”

“Telling Potter and Al would turn a cold war into a full on battle.” I scoffed. “Trust me, I’m not that stupid.” I bit my lip as I weighed the pro’s and con’s of spreading the truth. “Tyler needs to know.” I told Scorpius softly. “He’s not going to give up until he finds her… It’s cruel to allow him to continue searching when we both know that she’s sitting right under his nose, and messing around with his best mate.”

“Rose is going to talk to Lily.” Scorpius replied. “That’s the best we can do without complicating things. I suppose she’s going to try and convince her to do what she needs to do, regardless of the aftermath.”

I laughed bitterly. “Lily is all about self preservation. I learned that after all those years of watching her get her brothers into trouble. As long as her ass is safe, she’s perfectly fine with whatever happens.”

“And in swoops the beautiful, clever, amazing, and incredibly persuasive Rose Weasley to the rescue.” He exclaimed dramatically. “She’ll get Lily to talk.

I smiled at his sweetness. “You know, Scorp, I don’t know why it took Rosie so long to see just how much the two of you belong together.”

He rolled his eyes openly. “You, being the Queen of Denial, should not be talking.”

My mouth dropped open resentfully. “I am most definitely not the queen of denial, sir.”

Scorpius held up his hand. “We’re straying away from the matter at hand.” His voice was drained of all playfulness. “So you and Albus, huh?” He immediately burst out laughing, his serious façade completely shattered.

I scowled and looked away. “I can’t believe the entire castle knows about that.”

“Oh c’mon,” Scorpius nudged my side. “Don’t be angry. I’m absolutely, one-hundred percent positive that almost everyone did something that night that they weren’t entirely proud of.”

“Rumors are flying here and there.” I agreed. “There were a lot of hook-ups that night.”

He nodded. “So… you and Al, huh?”

I smacked his arm with as much strength as I could muster. Scorpius merely broke out in laughter, without so much as a flinch. “It’s not funny, Scorp!” I exclaimed, completely mortified. “It’s like snogging my brother!”

“How did James take it?”

I shrugged. “He wasn’t exactly pleased.”

“Merlin, Vic, you’re really getting `round the Potters… I wonder if Lily’s next.” Scorpius earned another smack on the arm for his little comment. Again, he laughed loudly, as if my slap did not affect him at all.

“This castle was better off without that stupid Masquerade ball.” Scorpius announced bitterly once his laughter subsided. “Whatever happened to the good old fashioned costume parties? They’re never truly outdated!”

I chuckled softly. “I couldn’t agree more.”

James Potter

I couldn’t believe that after all that arsehole has done, I was still going out on a limb for him. Dinner was about to start in twenty minutes, which meant that I had twenty minutes to find Sylvia before that not-so-pretty little head of hers could muster up new and crazy ideas about Cupids. After Victoria made her rushed exit, Tyler and I concocted the (hopefully) perfect idea to get Sylvia off Cupids’ tail.

Once I tracked the Marauders’ map down to Rose, I located Sylvia sitting in the Great Hall, waiting for dinner to start. And that’s when this entire, uncomfortable situation took flight.

“So, does everyone know the plan?” I asked, huddled over with four other Gryffindor guys. We were standing a corner away from the Great Hall. I suppose it wasn’t the best idea to group together in plain sight and not to mention, in the middle of the most busiest corridor of the castle. We looked like bloody fucking idiots. “Just make sure that you’re somewhere in sight, but not completely out there.”

“That completely contradicts the idea of hiding, James.” Fred pointed out exasperatedly.

“Just hide, but make sure she see’s you hiding, okay?” Tyler snapped in response.

“Can we please get this over with as fast as possible?” Albus asked as he anxiously scanned his surroundings. “I feel like a bloody poof wearing this shirt, and carrying this bow around…”

With a scowl on his face to second Albus’ comment, Lysander began prying the tight cloth from his skin. “Seriously…” He added. “Were these costumes necessary?”

“It needs to look legitimate, you dumbarse.” Lorcan reminded.

“I think we’re going way harder than we need too…” Fred whined. “I rather do this shirtless, than wear this stinking shirt.”

“Would you quit whining?” I snapped. “The quicker we do this, the faster you can get out of the shirt.”

“So how are we going to get her out of the Great Hall?” Lorcan asked.

“Layla, Ginger and Dom’s got that covered.” Tyler answered. “She’ll draw attention, and knowing Sylvia, she won’t resist. Ginger will give us the signal, and once she does, we fire.”

Fred drew an arrow from its confines on his back. He began testing the arrow, feeling around the point with his forefinger. “How badly do you think this could injure somebody?” he asked absentmindedly. “OW!” he retracted his finger as if the arrow had just burned him. “Mother of all fuckers.” He cursed loudly and shoved his finger into his mouth.

“Did you expect it to be made out of jelly, Fred?” Lysander asked dryly. “Because that’s typically what arrows are made out of. Soft, soft jelly.”

“Anyway.” I interjected, resisting the urge to insert my own sarcastic comment into the mix. “Let’s get on with this, shall we? It’s not exactly pleasant wearing this stupid shirt.”

“I think those girls over there think otherwise.” Tyler nodded over to the group of giggling girls standing across the corridor.

I scowled and looked away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under their gaze. “Let us just please get this over with.”

“Positions, gentlemen.” Tyler ordered, as if he was commanding his own, personal, legitimate army.

Under Tyler’s command, the men obediently dispersed into dark alcoves, behind suits of armors, or half hidden behind a tapestry. I chose to hide behind a torched pillar closest to the entrance. After scattering ourselves within a twenty foot radius, we readied our bows and arrows. As I fixed the arrow against the nylon chord, I wondered how Desmond did not feel like a complete idiot sneaking around the castle with this getup, and shooting couples in the arse.

All eyes were glued on Ginger, who lingered near the entrance way of the Great Hall. She was peering intently through the opened doors, waiting for Layla and Dom’s overly dramatic stir up.

“What’s taking them so long?” Lysander hissed loudly. “I’m getting a cramp!”

At that point, I was trying my best not to feel like that big of an idiot while hiding behind a pillar, looking very much like a gay hunter.

Thankfully, Ginger’s arms began to flail vigorously, and before I knew it, Dom and Layla came running from the Great Hall, screaming like a pair of dimwitted banshees. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but laugh at their ridiculous display.

From head to toe, the pair’s naked bodies were covered by countless of velvet cushioned hearts. Their hair was temporarily dyed pink, and they sported the cutest, magically-made signs above their heads.


Without disappointment, Sylvia came running after them with a look of utter confusion. “What the bloody hell are they doing?” she asked.

“THEY’VE BEEN SPOTTED!” Tyler announced.

Right before I released my arrow, I laughed loudly as a heart fell off of Layla’s right arse cheek. She squeaked and jumped in the air the moment the heart met the floor.

“GOTCHA!” Albus cried as we all stepped out of hiding. “You girls suck at this game.”

“You’d think that after years and years of playing, they’d get better at this.” Fred sighed and shook his head with mock disappointment. “It’s just not fun anymore without a bit of a challenge.”

“Victoria is usually the last to get shot. Too bad she wasn’t playing today.” Lysander agreed. “Hey James, where is little Vicky?”

“Don’t call me little, you brat. I’m older than you are.” Vic scolded, popping up from behind Fred. Despite myself, I took a second out of our little mission to survey her appearance, having had not seen her since… an hour ago. More or less. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was tousled, her clothes disheveled, and is that a thin layer of sweat glistening against her neck? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that she ran away into a broom closet to do the dirty with some random bloke. “Aw, did I miss the show?” she asked breathlessly.

“What the hell is going on?” Sylvia demanded.

I turned to her, feigning astonishment. “Oh, Sylvia! You’re there.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Yes, James, I’m here. What are you all playing at?”

“What are you talking about?” I frowned.

Damn, I was such a good liar. I should receive a fucking award.

“This!” she shouted. “The bows, the arrows, the fucking hearts! What’s going on?”

Vic laughed. “Honey, I think you need to calm down.”

“Yeah. We’re just playing around.” Albus answered.

“Playing around?” she repeated dangerously. “This is your version of playing around? Have all of you gone mental?”

“It’s just our own very exaggerated version of tag.” Lysander explained with a nonchalant shrug. “Freddie here just got so bored of regular tag, thus, this.” He motioned to our ridiculously embarrassing attire. “It’s more of a low-key group thing.”

“But we grew sloppy, and you were starting to get all these ideas…” Lorcan continued. “Very farfetched ideas…”

“So I guess it won’t hurt to tell you the truth now that you caught us in the act.” Dominique finished, approaching us. “And it will give you peace of mind to know that this is just a game.”

“You can even be a part of it too, if you want!” Tyler exclaimed excitedly as he clapped his hands together. “You can be one of the hunted! We’ll cover you up in hearts and everything!”

Sylvia shut her eyes tightly. “So is Desmond a part of this flock of imbeciles as well?” she asked no one in particular.

“Yup.” Layla answered. “He’s just a bit preoccupied with a prank gone wrong right now.”

“He flooded our dormitory.” I explained.

“It’s rather tragic, actually.” Tyler went on. “My pet rat was enjoying his cheese right in front of my trunk.”

Layla shut her eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tyler, you don’t have a rat.” She informed him.

“Well it was somebody’s rat. It needed a home so I gave it one!”

In reality, it was actually a random wild rat he found wandering around the corridors. And in reality, the rat ran away the minute he let it go free in our dormitory. Desmond and I just did not have the heart to tell him.

Victoria Rose

They say that emptiness is most difficult to ignore. Absence has a knack of capturing and squeezing a heart until all that remains is the bitter taste of emptiness. Desmond’s seat in the Great Hall has been empty for days. We chattered, laughed, and devoured like nothing was wrong, but no matter what I tried to focus on, I could not ignore the sting of absence that his empty table setting emitted. I wondered where he was, and why he hasn’t shown up to any single meal since the night of the ball. Dinner without Desmond was quieter than usual.

It was empty.

“Vick, you’ve barely eaten since you’ve sat down.” Tyler pointed out. He pushed a plate of mashed potatoes in my direction. “Dig in. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

His remark turned all eyes on me. I could especially feel Potters’ piercing gaze from across the table, but I refused to look at him. Instead, I smiled softly at Tyler and raised my food-filled-fork. “I’m eating, Ty, don’t worry.”

I stuffed the cold bits of chicken — chicken that my fork stabbed into a good twenty minutes ago — into my mouth. Dishearteningly, I chewed. I was in no mood to eat.

The conversation picked up once more, and soon enough, the spotlight shifted from me, back to Layla, who was foretelling the upcoming Quidditch game. Tyler was listening intently, and every now and then, I tuned into his disagreement, and her disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?” Layla cried. “Ravenclaws’ chasers have absolutely nothing on the Slytherins’! They’re beaters, now that’s a different story.”

“No way! Even the Hufflepuffs smoked the Ravenclaw beaters in the last match!” Tyler rebutted.

I plunged deeper into my thoughts as I began pushing the little amounts of remains around my plate. My mind wandered towards Layla, Tyler, Lily, and Desmond. Layla was blissfully ignorant to the recent happenings, and I wasn’t sure if it was my place to shatter that sheer bliss she had so fortunately found herself basking in the past couple of days. Tyler, on the other hand, was pining for this perfect redhead he met at the ball. This redhead, turns out to be the same redhead messing around with his best mate.

I groaned inwardly.

Since when did life become so complicated?

I was so immersed in my thoughts that I failed to notice Potter take my plate and pile on a ludicrous amount of food. His thoughtfulness — his completely uncalled for thoughtfulness — did not register until my now-full plate was waiting to be devoured before me.

His gesture gave me the strangest feeling of déjà vu, only except the first time this situation came around, our roles were reversed. I was madly in love with Potter, and filling his plate with all kinds of crap during breakfast.

“Potter.” I said blankly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He refused to meet my gaze. I couldn’t tell if he was just being Potter and ignoring me, or if he was actually — dare I say — embarrassed.

“Potter.” I repeated

“Are you going to stop being difficult, or are you going to eat?” he replied with the same blank tone. His eyes did not leave his plate as he continued shoveling food into the gigantic hole in the middle of his face.

Finally, I looked away and shared a look with Tyler, who looked just as surprised and confused as I did.

Disregarding his confusion and shock, the sucky thing about Tyler, was that he was always on Potters’ side. “He’s right, Vic. You’ve got to eat something. Your arse is already way too bony.”

Needless to say, they made me smile.

I took a bite of the mountain of food on my plate and chewed animatedly.

“You guys won’t believe what I heard today.” Albus, who planted himself between Layla and Tyler, looked like he was about to burst out of his skin.

“That my little brother is actually my little sister?” Potter piped up. “Yes, we’ve already heard, Al.”

Layla snorted into her goblet. 

Albus, who did not let his jack-arse of a brother rain on his parade, ignored Potter and continued staring at us with eager eyes.

“Spit it out, little sis.” Potter pressed as he reached for his goblet.

“So I heard from Scorpius, who heard from…”

“You’d be a terrible girl.” Dom commented.

“ANYWAY,” Al continued. “That’s irrelevant. So I heard that… Wait for it.”

“Mate, we’ve been waiting for it.” Tyler stated blankly. “Get on with the story.”

“WAIT FOR IT.” Albus cried dramatically. “BLOODY WAIT FOR IT.”

“I will stab you with this fork if you don’t spit it out.” Layla threatened.

“Amelie..” he began. “You all know Amelie, right?”

“Yes, we all know her.” Dom answered dryly. “We’ve known her since we were eleven, Albus.”

“So… I heard that Amelie,” he continued. “Wait did you all hear what happened during the Masquerade Ball?”

“About a good hundred eventful things happened that night.” Layla pointed out.

“That’s irrelevant also.” Albus said. “But anyway, she’s knocked up and people think James is the baby daddy.”

All liquid contents residing in Potters’ mouth immediately met Dominique’s face. My mouth dropped open from shock, and so did every other person sitting around us.

“No bloody way…” The first to react was Layla. “You’re kidding.”

Dom, who received the full blast of Potter’s spit take, grabbed a napkin and aggressively scrubbed at her face before a loud, “WHAT?” burst through the napkin.

“Holy shit…” Were the only two words that came out of Tyler’s mouth.

“And, get this.” Albus added. “She actually wants to keep the baby.”

“Hang on.” Layla interjected before any one of us could say another word. “How do we know that James is the father for sure? Amelie fucks like there’s no tomorrow. I honestly don’t believe that she can be so sure who the father is.”

“Why would she want to keep the baby…” Dominique spoke. “She’s sixteen and pregnant! She’s going to be a mother before she even hits her prime.”

As Tyler opened his mouth to speak, I turned to Potter and all voices immediately fell silent. He was staring into his goblet as if he was trying, trying with all his might, to turn his pumpkin juice into rum with just a simple look. Albus’ news rendered him silent, which could only mean one of two things. One, Potter entered the mental state of a vegetable in the span of five seconds. Two, Potter could not find a reason to deny the possibility of Amelie’s pregnancy.

Contrary to my beliefs, Potter’s mind was not weak enough to spontaneously vegetate at the news of being a baby daddy. The latter sounded more believable, which meant that the rumors were true. He fucked Amelie the night I stayed out late with Austin.

As if on cue, Potter finally showed signs of life when his eyes shifted to meet mine. In the five seconds our eyes met, I surprisingly found myself not caring enough to look any deeper. I averted my gaze, and tuned back into the conversation between our friends. It bothered me endlessly to know that Potter slept with his ex-girlfriend the same day he slept with Joy Lovegood, but for the first time in a long time, I rolled my eyes and willed myself to disregard the all-too-familiar feeling of jealousness growing in the pit of my stomach.

I refused to allow Potter any control over something as fickle as my emotions.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t care.


“Now where are you off to again?” The sound of Potter’s sudden voice almost sent me shooting straight into the ceiling. He was leaning against the stone wall, completely calm in the midst of a mob of food-coma-stricken students. His arms were crossed over his chest, as if he was purposely trying to shove his unnaturally large muscles through the confines of his white oxford shirt. Bloody show off. Just because he looked like a fucking Greek God, doesn’t mean he needed to flaunt it ever chance he got.

“Potter!” I shrieked. “Don’t bloody sneak up on me like that!”

“You know, you’ve been sneaking around a lot lately.” He informed me while following up a flight of stairs.

“What’s your point, Potter?” I asked impatiently. “Because you’ve been babbling incessantly lately, and I don’t have time for it.”

“You’re awfully touchy tonight.” He remarked.

“Yes well, I’ve got to be somewhere. Now if you’ll excuse me…” Just as my foot was about to land on the first step of the next flight, Potter quickly stepped around, stopping me in my tracks. “Move, Potter. I don’t have time for this.”

“Where are you going?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Oooh, defensive, are we?”

“Irritated, is what I am.”

“Am I keeping you from someone?” he asked — almost bloody demanded, actually.

“Move aside Potter. I’ll argue with you later.”


I let out a frustrated cry. “What do you want?” I asked as my eyes narrowed into slits.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”


“Get in line, Potter.” I scowled. “I’ve got a whole list of people I need to talk to. Speaking of… please get out of my way so I can get on with my night, and hopefully go to bed as early as possible.”

“Are you going to see Desmond?”


“Have you seen him?”

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.” I answered. “Why?”

“There are… rumors going around. I just wanted to know if you knew anything about them.”

“About Desmond, or about you?”

Almost immediately, Potters’ eyes darkened. “Victoria, can I please talk to you?”

I crossed my arms. “Fine, I’m listening. Speak.”

“Can we talk privately?”

“I don’t have time to talk privately, Potter.”

His lips curled into a scowl. Before I could object, Potter grabbed my wrist and hauled me up the next flight of stairs, down a semi-student-filled corridor, and into an empty classroom.

“Why are you so bloody persistent?” I asked with annoyance. “Fine, we’re in an empty classroom. What do you want to talk about?”

“Are you angry with me?” was his immediately question.

“No. Are we finished?”

“Don’t lie to me.” He practically ordered. “Tell me if you’re angry.”

“When am I not angry with you?” I countered. “C’mon, Potter. We’ve been like this our whole lives. Why are you suddenly so concerned now?”

“You’re right. Why am I so concerned?”

A moment of silence fell upon us. “Are you asking me, or is that a rhetorical question?”

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

At the sound of ‘bitch’, I scoffed. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m freaking out over here, Vic. I might be a bloody father, and I’m just trying to make things better, and you’re not making it any easier for me!”

“Well excuse me, for not handing you exactly what you wanted you spoiled little twat!”

He released a frustrated cry. “What is the matter with you? Ever since dinner, you’ve turned into a giant, walking block of ice.”

I fell silent as my anger slightly subsided and was replaced with a mix of emotions I thought I swallowed during dinner. “I just found out that,” I began, my voice softer than usual. “the boy that I’m in love with might be fathering someone else’s child. What do you want me to feel, Potter? Would you like me to yak out rainbows and sunshine?”

After another moment of silence, Potter chose to disregard my question and instead, he walked over to the other side of the room and hoisted himself up on a mid-height bookshelf. He cracked a window open and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his trousers.

“How many times have I told you to stop smoking that garbage?” I asked as I slowly approached him. 

“How many more times are you going to tell me to stop until you realize that I don’t care?” he snapped in response.

“Right, because you don’t care about anything.” I replied bitterly. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing.”

“You think that you can breeze through life not caring, but you can’t.”

“Please, spare me the motivational life speeches.”

Potter kept his head facing the opened window. One leg was stretched out in front of him, while the other was propped up as an arm rest. His cigarette was riskily dangling in between his fingers.

I glared as I wondered if I could hate this boy enough to fall out of love with him. I wondered enough to start wondering if that was Potter's almighty plan; force me to hate him enough to fall out of love with him.

“Fine, Potter.” I spat. “I’ll spare you.”

Without another word, I turned around, strode out of the classroom, and shut the door behind me with a loud bang. Upon my exit, I managed to capture more eyes than I would have liked. One of them happened to be James Greyson.

“You!” I exclaimed a little breathlessly as I spotted him chatting up a couple of Hufflepuffs. Completely disregarding his female companions, I liked my right arm with his left, and dragged him away without even skipping a beat. “I was just leaving to look for you.”

“You’re a couple of hours late…” Greyson pointed out.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but it’s been a hectic day.” I said as I began to explain myself. “There were things to take care of, and I just found out something I really wish I never knew…”

“I’m guessing you found out that Amelie is pregnant?”

For a moment there, the recent news-bomb completely slipped my mind.

My face fell, despite myself.

“Yes, but that’s besides my point.”

He frowned. “That’s what I was hoping to talk to you about. What’s your big news?”

I wrinkled my nose and a mental debate broke out in my head. Should I tell Greyson a secret that not even my best friend knows?

“I can’t tell you.” I told him. “Not yet, anyway.”

“So anyway,” he nodded with compliance. “As a Slytherin, I should tell you, that I hear things.”

We rounded a corner and aimlessly continued strolling down the corridor.

“You hear things.” I repeated. “What things?”

He took a deep breath that forced my insides to curl into a tight ball. My stomach squeezed unpleasantly from creeping anxiousness. “It’s not just a rumor, Vic. Slytherin’s talk, and our common room walls practically have their own set of ears. Her pregnancy is not just a rumor.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked breathlessly. 

“I see the way you look at Potter, you fool.” He rolled his eyes as if I was a stupid little bint for even asking him that question. “Don’t pretend like this doesn’t bother you. I figured you’d be better off knowing the truth, than having to go wondering for days on end.”

I sighed and looked down at my feet, watching silently as they were slowly pushed against the ground over and over again with each step. I was at lost for words, and watching my feet aid in the aimlessness seemed like a fair way to express my silence.

“Did I upset you?” Greyson asked, nudging my side.

“No.” I answered with an exhale. “I’ve been upset, so it’s not your fault.”

“How about a breather tomorrow night? We’ll sneak out, sneak into an underground club in Hogsmeade, and you can go all out.”

“You think alcohol and loud music will help?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I think alcohol and loud music will get your mind off things for a while.” He answered. “It won’t hurt.”

I shrugged. “Sure, why not. I need to get away from this place for a while, anyway. One night out wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great! It’s settled then. And do me a favor, Vic.” He added. “Make sure Potter doesn’t know. Or any of your friends for that matter. I don’t fancy any one of them hunting me down with a bloody hatchet.”


The moment I stepped into the booze-filled darkness that night, I knew that I made a terrible mistake. Clad in tight black skinny jeans, five-inch heels, and the shiniest top I could find in Layla’s closet, I felt utterly vulnerable. My only grounding was Greyson, whom, within the three seconds we stepped into the underground scene, I immediately lost sight of.

I willed myself not to panic, and instead, I scanned my surroundings. The room was filled with people I’ve never seen before. There were teenage girls with their wands stuffed deep within their exposed cleavage, and boys who didn’t seem to understand the concept of a shirt. I suddenly felt so… overdressed.

“Hey you!” Greyson’s familiar voice immediately brought relief. “I thought I lost you for a second.”

My eyebrows knitted together. “You did.”

He rolled his eyes in the most annoying fashion ever, and ushered me towards the bar. “Keep close to me, okay? This is not a good place for me to lose you.”

I remained silent and allowed him to order me a drink. He placed in front of me the largest shot glass I’ve ever seen in my life, and grinned. “I don’t understand. Is this a shot, or what?” I asked, observing the swirling orange liquid. “Why is it still swirling.”

“It keeps the flavors packed together.” Greyson explained. “Trust me, you want to drink it before the swirling stops, or else you will not be able to down that thing.”

Without giving it a second thought, I clanked the glass against Greyson’s, and shouted, “Bottoms up!” The orange liquid continued swirling as it slipped down my throat. The tingling sensation mixed with the fruity flavors forced a smile onto my face. “Holy mother of Merlin, that felt amazing!”

Greyson’s grin widened, and before I could protest, he turned to the bartender and said, “Two more shots over here!”

At some point during the night, the drinks hit me like one of Tyler’s five-minute-epic-farts. Sensible judgment flew right out the window, and was replaced with one word: Yes. Yes to anything and everything. Yes to snogging with random girls on barstools and platforms. Yes to taking every single kind of shot on the menu with a bunch of Durmstrang boys. Yes to dancing in the most epic train grind I’ve ever witnessed. Yes to streaking butt-naked into the cold. Yes to the most fail game of drunk Quidditch I’ve ever played. Yes to flirting with the bouncers, and last but not least, yes to hooking up with Bulgarians in the boys lavatory.

His name was Aleksandar.

I think. I wasn’t sure, actually. But what I was sure of, was that his hands were everywhere.

His lips were annoyingly rough against mine. A growl rippled through his throat constantly, and I felt like I was being devoured by an animal. The thick, brain-splitting aroma of his cologne mixed with booze remained clouded around us. As I felt his rough, calloused hands palm my bare arse as he dug his nails into my skin, I scowled openly and pushed his face away from mine.

A look of confusion surfaced on his face, but I was too turned off to care. I unlocked the stall and opened the door with an annoyed bang. Without another word, I left the lavatory in search of another drink.

As I passed the high table’s on my way to the dance floor, I spotted neon liquid sitting in a fancy shot glass. Before I managed to reach for it, a nameless hand reached out for mine, and spun me enough to make the rest of the world spin with me.

The sound of a low chuckle filled my ears, bringing my feet back down to earth. “And what do you think you’re reaching for?”

I looked up to see Greyson smiling down at me with amusement. His hands gripped the side of my shirt, pulling me closer to his body. I smiled back, and with the purely innocent interest of regaining balance, I leaned against him and allowed his hands to grip me tighter. “Heyy youuuuuuuu.” I slurred. “Where have you been all night?”

He laughed loudly. “Watching your secret wild side resurface.”

I scrunched up my nose with sheer embarrassment. “Don’t make fun of me.” I stuck my tongue out in his direction. “It’s not my fault I know how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun too, miss.” He replied. “Watching you is, in fact,” his face inched closer to mine and his lips stretched into another smile. I couldn’t help but smile back. He was just so goddamn charming. “very amusing.”

“What did I say about making fun of me?” I asked with a whisper the moment his nose made contact with mine.

“Am I in trouble now?” he teased.

“Big trouble.” I drew my bottom lip in between my teeth.

Before Greyson’s lips landed on mine, there was a short moment of hesitation when Potter’s face popped into my head. It was when I leaned in and closed the distance between Greyson and I, when I realized that Potter’s handsome features and annoyingly arrogant smirk no longer appealed to me as much as it used to. The swelling-like feeling that erupted in my chest at the mere thought of Potter surprisingly did not resurface. For the first time in a long time, I welcomed the affection of another boy, and allowed myself to completely drown in it. No more guilt and no more ache that comes from missing Potter so badly. No more faithfulness towards a boy who didn’t give two fucks that I didn’t even return to my dorm for the night. That night, floundering became a thing of the past, just as Potter did.

Greyson softly released my lips. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a questioning look. Instead of speaking, instead of mentioning his name, I gave him the most genuine smile I could muster in my intoxicated state, and drew his lips closer to mine once more.

Maybe it was the alcohol affecting the magic of the arrow. Maybe it was my distancing myself from Potter that did the trick. Either way, I wasn’t in love with him anymore. Not that night, anyway.

James Potter

My life was a fucking mess.

To spare the rest of the world unnecessary teenage angst, I'm going to clarify that my fucking age has absolutely nothing to do with the level of fucked my life has become.

First off, my best mate is a fucking Cupid.

That's enough said, but for kicks, I'm going to keep going.

Secondly, my best mate (soon to be former unless he stops his bloody shenanigans) — the fucking Cupid who is the most unattainable and undatable person on the fucking planet — is fucking my baby sister.

Thirdly, the bane of my bloody existence, is in love with me, thanks to — oh yeah, you fucking guessed it — my best fucking mate, the Cupid.

Fourth, my cousin is now outcasting herself from the group because my other best mate cheated on her with my other cousin's girlfriend. All thanks to — would you fucking look at that — the Cupid.

Fifth, the bane of my bloody existence is pissed at me because no one in Hogwarts know's how to keep a fucking secret. She is now off galavanting around the castle doing Merlin-knows-what with Merlin-knows-who.

Sixth, my ex-girlfriend, the most distasteful person I have ever met, is now (rumored) pregnant. SHE'S FUCKING PREGNANT. And, she wants to keep the baby! After years of living by a broken moral compass, she chooses to do the right thing now.

Seventh, Victoria, the bane of my bloody existence, found out about said pregnancy. She is now, like I said, pissed at me.

Eighth — should I go on? I think I shall. Eighth, Victoria is fucking missing. No one has seen her, and fell off the fucking map which is impossible unless she completely stepped off school grounds which is an extremely difficult feat unless accompanied by a Weasley or a Potter, all of whom were all scattered somewhere in the castle.

Ninth, I have a fucking transfiguration essay due tomorrow, and I have not even started.

Tenth, I'm off to find Amelie and try to talk some sense into the most stubborn and manipulative girl I've ever had to deal with, and my sister is Lily Potter. ENOUGH SAID.

Eleventh, there's a mental debate going on in my head. Worry about Amelie's sudden pregnancy, or go insane over the fact that Victoria is gone. In truth, I wanted to fuck both and smoke the night away in the Astronomy Tower. I didn't need this. Not now.

But as I grew closer and closer to Greenhouse no. 2, I knew I couldn't turn around and change my mind. I had to talk to Amelie and knock her around until she was back in her right might.

I chuckled to myself at the ironic sexual innuendo.

I unlocked the door and walked in.

"You're late." She was perched on one of the long tables in the middle of the greenhouse. "I don't like to be kept waiting."

I rolled my eyes. "I apologize, princess. Are the rumors true?" I asked, stopping right in front of her, but keeping a safe distance. The thought of Victoria immobilized me from taking another step closer.

Amelie cocked her head to the side and asked, "What rumors?"

"Amelie, I'm too tired for games right now." I told her with exasperation. "I want a straight answer."

She chuckled. "Wow James, you're just jumping right into things, aren't you?"

"Is it your life's pursuit to master the art of coyness?" I asked dryly.

"Cute." she snapped. "But yes, to answer your question. The rumors are true."

"How do I know it's mine?"

She narrowed her eyes in my direction. "What do you take me for, a slut?"

I snorted because it was funny. Hilarious, actually. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact."

"It's yours, James." she answered. "I'll even let you take your own paternity test."

"And you're going to keep it?"

"I'd like to, yes. I want you to be a part of it, James."

"Look, if this is just some kind of ploy to get everyone around you to play one of your little games, then forget it." I spat.

"There's no games." she rolled her eyes. "It's real. I'm pregnant. I'm having a baby."

"There's no way I'll fucking believe it for a second. You, of all people. You're irresponsible and selfish! What makes you think you can raise a child? You can't even take care of yourself, much less an infant. You're sixteen, Amelie!"

"I want this baby!" she screeched abruptly. Her hand flew to her stomach in a some-what protective manner. I wondered what she was trying to prove. "I want to have this baby, and I want my baby to have a father."

Fuck. I was so beyond frustrated. I ran a hand through my hair and reached into my pocket to pull out a cigarette. Without a second thought, I lit it with my wand a took a long drag. "You're saying that you want me to take care of that baby with you?"

"I'm saying I want you to be there for me." she replied.

I took another drag. "You expect me to believe that out of no where, you go from fucking any guy that comes your way, to standing in front of me, telling me that you want to have a baby?"

"Things changed when I found out I was carrying your child."

"My child?" I asked. "Would your decision have been different if that thing had a different father?"

She didn't answer me.

I took another drag.

Just as the though crossed my mind, I stared at the cigarette in my hand and scoffed. I turned to her and held out the shortening white stick in between my fingers. "You say your pregnant? You think you can take care of a child?" I asked. "Did you even know how dangerous secondhand smoking can be for pregnant women?"

"So I'm not a fucking encyclopedia, sue me!" she exclaimed. "What do you expect?"

"What do I expect?" I repeated as I flicked the half-smoked cigarette out of my hands. "I expect you to at least know what you're getting yourself into before you make stupid half-assed decisions like keeping a baby at sixteen!"

"You can't change my mind!" she shouted. "You're either with me, or not."

"After everything you put me through, you expect me to stay by your side?"

"This is as much your fault as it is mine?"

I raised an eyebrow. "If that right there," I pointed to her stomach. "Is a mistake, and I assume it is since you're putting both of us at fault, then you should get rid of it."

"I want to keep it." her voice was shaky, but I could tell her decision was firm. "I want to keep it, James, and I'm asking you to be a father. I'm asking you to stay with me, and help me through this, and be a father to your own child."

"No fucking way." I spat. "We should have never done what we did. It was wrong, and I'm not about to get into that again."

Her eyes narrowed into a glare. "You weren't complaining when you were fucking me."

"I didn't know any better then." I scowled.

"Oh, and now you do? What changed, huh? Enlighten me, James, what could have possibly changed since the last time you fucked me?"

"I did!" I roared. "Contrary to what you believe, people can fucking change. I can change."

She laughed loudly. "You? Change? Oh please." she rolled her eyes. "You can never change. You and I are so similar. That's why we're so good for each other."

"I'm not like you."

"Look," she began a little more calmly. "You can continue convincing yourself that you're one of the good guys just to please your little toy, or you can face reality and realize that you are James Potter, and you always will be. You will never change, and it's time to face that fact, and stop trying to adjust to please those who can't stand the real you." She slowly began approaching me, and with every advancing step she took, I took an additional step back. "I know you, James. I know how you really are. I know of your urges, and your temper. I know your strength, and I definitely know your weakness." Somehow, I underestimated the proximity of space between us. She reached out and brushed her fingers along my jaw. "I know you, and I know all of you. And you know what?" she smiled softly. "I'm not asking you to change one bit. I, for one, love your cynicism and that temper of yours. I'm not like your little doll, Victoria. You don't have to change for me. We're alike, you and I. Always were, always will be."

Scowling, I shoved her hands away from my face and stepped around her to regain personal space. "Victoria has nothing to do with this."

She rolled her eyes. "You two. Always in denial." She shook her head. "Just admit it, James. You have a thing for her."

"I'm not changing for her, Amelie." I replied sternly. "I'm not changing for anyone."

"Don't feed me some cheesy, cliché line that goes along the lines of 'I'm changing for myself because she makes me want to be a better person'."

"I'm changing for myself because I don't want to be anything like you." I spat distastefully while making my way to the exit. "Good luck with the kid. But just incase, I'd make sure to get a paternity test. I'm almost positive that the chances of that kid being mine is practically slim to none."

A/N: omg guys don't kill me. i know it's been like months since i've updated, but i had writers block, and i pumped out half this chapter in the last hour and a half because i was in my zoneeeee.

it was pretty long already so a few lily/desmond/tyler had to be cut out, but there will definitely be more of them in the next chapter!

now greyson and victoria erwoekrow omg who saw that one coming? everyone i think. hehe. but who knows what will happen!

and amelie! is she pregnant for real, or just faking everything to stir up some stupid drama? we shall see :)

i'll try updating asap!
please review guys :) they keep me motivated.

Chapter 23: Walk of Shames and Dysfunctional Endings
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

The Time of Cupids
By: Gryffindorgirl153

Chapter Twenty-Three
Victoria Rose

The sun was brighter than I ever remembered it to be.

The sound of birds was more annoying than usual.

Bloody hell.

This sounds like a shitty hangover.

I groaned and rolled on my back.

Oh yeah, this was a shitty hangover.

“Shit.” I cursed as I slowly tried opening my eyes.


There was so much green.

And that smell. What on Earth was that smell… It was musky, and unfamiliar, and good.

My hands moved across the surface of the bed. I felt silk slip in between my fingers, as opposed to my thick, fluffy duvet.

Where the bloody hell was I?

My eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and more green filled my vision.

The events of the previous night suddenly chose that precise moment to come flooding in. I shot up as fast as I could, forcing my head to spin in endless circles. "Holy shit." I cursed some more. "Shit, what time is it…" I muttered to myself as I searched the room. My eyes landed on a clock sitting on the bedside table.

It was fucking three in the afternoon.

I slept in through all my classes.

Holy shit, I slept through Quidditch practice.

I was so dead.

I didn't make it back to my room last night.

I was going to die.

Potter was going to murder me.

And he was going to enjoy it.

“Fuck.” I scrambled for my shoes and my wand, and bolted out the door.

I ignored all the strange looks coming from each and every Slytherin I passed by on the way out of their common rom. It was the walk of shame, but I was too preoccupied freaking out in my head to soak up even an ounce of shame. While I ran up the stairs, I cursed the Slytherin common room for being all the way down in the dudgeons.

"Shit." I cursed again as I tripped up the stairs.

Once the portrait hole was in sight, I shouted the password as loud as I could, ran right into the common room, and headed straight for the staircase. My dorm was empty once I arrived. I shed all my clothes and took the quickest shower of my life, got dressed, and readied myself to present my Quidditch captain with the best apology on the planet in order to keep myself from getting kicked off the team.

The moment I opened the lavatory door, Potter was just walking through the bedroom door. "Potter." I breathed with surprise. "Oh god, Potter, I'm sorry I missed practice. I just… I went out last night and I got really, really drunk, and I was really out of it, and I wasn't really sure what I was doing. And then Greyson took me back, and I suppose since he didn't know the password to the common room, he couldn't bring me back here, so he brought me back to his dorm, and I ended up spending the night." I was rambling like there was no tomorrow. Potter simply stared at me with a look on indifference the entire time. "And he didn't bother waking me up this morning, which explains why I missed practice, and the rest of my classes, and even breakfast and lunch, and I know that we have a game coming up, and I know that I really, really have to work hard if I want us to win, and I do want us to win, which is why I decided to spend a couple hours after dinner today practice to make up for the lost practice time, and I'm really, really, really sorry."

After a few moments of silence, Potter's face unexpectedly split into a smile. He chuckled as well and brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face. "Why are you so afraid that you're going to get in trouble?" he asked with amusement evident in his voice. "I'm not your father, Vicky. I'm not going to ground you for coming in late."

I stared at him incredulously. "Who are you, and what have you done with James Potter?" I interrogated. "You'd normally be yelling your head off by now because I missed practice."

He shrugged. "Like you said, you'll make up for lost time. I'm not worried that you're out of shape." He said as he walked towards my bed and collapsed on the surface. "After dinner, we'll head out to the pitch and practice."

"What the fuck?" I asked, confused. "Potter, what's wrong with you?"


"So… you're not mad at me at all?" I asked slowly, afraid that this was just some kind of dumb practical joke that Potter spontaneously decided to play because he was bored, and I was late and hung-over. "You're not mad that I was out till all hours last night?"

"I'm not your dad, Vic. I thought we already went over this."

"You're not mad that I was out with Greyson?"

The kiss between Greyson and I resurfaced in my memory, along with the guilt I should have felt last night when I kissed him.

He shook his head.

"So… I'm off the hook?" I asked hesitantly.

"Well you have a ton of work to catch up on, but yes, other than that, whatever."

I rolled my eyes at the sound of 'whatever'. Everything was always 'whatever' to Potter.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked him, planting myself beside him and finally relaxing against the familiarity. I collapsed on my back and folded my hands over my stomach. "If you didn't come here to yell at me, then what?"

One minute, Potter and I were laying side by side, staring at the canopy of my bed in silence. And the next minute, he's propped himself on top of me while a sexy smirk played on his lips.

"Potter, what are you d — " He cut me off with his lips; his incredibly soft, inviting lips. They moved against mine slowly, as if slowly inviting me in. I could almost feel him smiling against me, and that was all I needed to give in.

One hand gripped the side of his face, while the other moved along his shoulders and upper back. I wanted to feel every single part of me. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of his skin while pressing him as close to me as humanly possible. Every single trace of my ungodly hangover immediate disappeared under the presence of his lips on mine. I was in bliss, and all I could think about was Potter and the way he was touching me.

I moaned involuntarily, causing Potter's hold on my waist to tighten to the point where it hurt so good. I flipped us over, regaining control of the situation. I was so unbelievably turned on, that I detached my lips from his and planted them on the base of his neck. My tongue grazed the surface of his skin before I sunk my teeth down and sucked. An animalistic growl rumbled through his throat, and as fast as our song session began, it ended.

I woke up.

I woke up, and unlike my dream, I didn't wake up alone. I woke up with an arm wrapped around my bare waist, and a tickling breath hitting the back of my neck. Within seconds of being awake, I resisted the urge to shoot out of bed and throw a fit in the middle of the dormitory. Instead, my eventful night was replayed in my head while I drowned in a pit of my own shame. Not only did I fail to return to my own dorm last night, but I also failed to display even an ounce of rational judgment.

Fuck my life.

Searching for a clock, I craned my neck back to look at the bedside table. It was fucking three in the afternoon. I missed morning Quidditch practice.

Potter's going to kill me.

Desmond will —

I stopped mid thought.

In normal situations, Desmond would be trailing right behind Potter in the 'Kill-Victoria' bandwagon, but this was not a normal situation. Desmond and Potter were no longer the ultimate duo that always liked to gang up against me.

"You're strangely calm this morning."

"You're awake." I whispered as I slowly turned to face Greyson. "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head. "I've been awake for about thirty minutes, trying to get some sleep."

"We slept through the whole day." I pointed out.

He chuckled. "We got in really late last night… Or early, depending on how you want to look at it."

"We slept together." I was captain-fucking-obvious, wasn't I? "Shit, we had sex."

"Ouch." He spoke as if I caused him physical pain.

"Stop that." I scowled as I pushed the duvet against my chest in order to sit up and retain some of the dignity I had left. "Now is not the time to be cute."

He frowned, following suit, except he did not need to cover a set of breast. "Calm down, Victoria. We didn't have sex." He reassured softly. "We made out until all our clothes were off, and you stopped me before we could go any further."

"So… nothing happened?"

"Well… if by nothing, you mean sex, then yes. Nothing happened."

I released an unintentional sigh of relief. "That's… comforting to know." The moment the last word slipped out of my mouth, I immediately felt a twinge of regret. Greyson's face looked… disappointed. "I just… I'm sorry, Greyson. I just don't want any more on my plate than I need." I admitted softly. "My life is a mess right now, and my friends lives are messes too, and somehow, I was dragged into the eye of the storm. I don't mean anything by it…"

He sighed. "I get it. Your life is currently too complicated. But coming from a third-party observer, something like this," he paused. "something like us," he continued. "could be good for a complicated life such as your own. I just… I just think that you need someone who's not part of the teenage drama you're trying so hard to pull yourself out of. I could keep you sane, in other words."

My bottom lip found its way in between my top and bottom teeth, and upon instinct, I nibbled. Greyson provided more sincerity than I’ve experienced in a long time. No matter how many times I tried to avoid it, his eyes bore into mine as if he was trying to look straight into my soul. Despite my unwilling heart, I couldn't bring myself to break his.

"I don't need you to decide anything right now." He said. "It's just something I wanted you to know. The last thing I want to do is force you into something you don't want."

Sighing, I began. "Greyson… Look. I'm a big girl. I don't need a knight in shining armor —"

"Because you already have one." Greyson finished with a nod.

"Sorry, what?"


I blinked. "Since when were we talking about Potter?"

"He's your 'knight in shining armor' or whatever bullshit you want to call it." he answered dryly.

I snorted. "Oh please. The day Potter becomes my knight in shining armor is the day I literally shit my heart out."

Without another word, Greyson sighed heavily as he trudged out of bed. He grabbed a pair of worn slacks off the top of his trunk and slipped them on. He refused to look my way. Slowly, I followed suit and began getting dressed. I did not want to press the matter, feeling that we had both worn it out once that wanker Potter was mentioned. So I left Greyson's dorm, clear of goodbyes, and slowly began the walk of shame — shame reeked through last nights’ clothing — back to the Gryffindor common room.

Last night was supposed to be a form of release, so why did it feel like another load had just been dropped on my shoulders?

James Potter

I stood in the middle of the pitch with my arms crossed over my chest, looking like a fucking boss.

I was surveying my players, all five of them who chose to show up that morning for Quidditch practice. I incessantly barked orders, blew my obnoxiously loud whistle, and corrected their every move even though they were already correct. Needless to say, I was in a sour mood. I was short one player, and guess who that fucking player was. Victoria fucking Rose, that's who.


Layla swerved on her broomstick and stuck her middle finger in my direction. "BITE ME, JAMES." she screeched back. "I DID THE FUCKING LOOK AFTER THE DROP. ARE YOU BLIND?"


Despite my incredibly chipper mood that morning — note the dripping sarcasm — I failed, or refused (if you want to get all technical) to take it out on the third person on my 'To Kill' list. Desmond has been flying around like he was a victim of the infamous confundus charm. Each time he messed up one of the drills or wobbled out of a dive, I chomped down on my whistle in order to refrain from punching him off his own broomstick. For as long as I've known Desmond, never in his life has he flown that badly. I had no idea what the fuck he was trying to do, flying like an imbecile, but I sure as hell wasn't going to show that I gave a flying fuck. Just as long as his imbecilic ways did not cost us a game, I was good.

Again, I took a breath, as if I was about to free-fall into the abyss, and released everything into the small whistle in my hand. The sound echoed throughout the pitch, and all five players groaned loudly.

"Fuck, James, WHAT IS IT THIS TIME?" Fred grumbled, flying over to me. "Look, cuz, I love you and all, since you're a Potter and we're related, and I'm required to love you, but you're seriously killing us today."

I glared in his direction and ignored him, nonetheless. "PETER, I WANT TO SEE YOU HUSTLE. YOU'RE NOT HUSTLING!"

Fred grumbled beside me some more.

Being the loving captain and cousin that I am, I ignored the little fucker some more.

Instead, I focused on Layla and Desmond, who had abandoned their assigned posts and were now hovering close to one another. The sudden urge to protect Layla from the heartache Desmond was bound to cause was overwhelming, to say the least. My anger towards Desmond intensified, forcing me to blow my whistle for a lengthy period, signifying the end of practice. I didn't say another word to my team before I gathered my belongings and stalked back to my dorm.

I went through the rest of the day as irritated as ever. I kept the socializing to the bare minimum while dealing with the stares and whispers that never seem to cease in this bloody castle. For now, as far as everyone knew, I was the current Baby Daddy, and a title like that never went unnoticed.

Fuck the world and Earth's entire population.

Everything and everyone pissed me off.

All I wanted to do was crawl under a rock and stay there forever, but the universe hated me enough to entirely rule out that option as completely impossible.

On my way back to the common room, I took a detour to the library, in hopes of finding a book that would help me with my transfiguration essay that was due in exactly two and a half hours. The library was a bloody wasteland. There was not a single student in sight, which didn't surprise me, considering the time of day. I walked around slowly, unsure of where to find transfiguration resources.

“I should have bloody brought Layla with me.” I muttered to myself with regret. I had no idea what I was doing, and I had no idea what I was even looking for.

Turning a corner and entering one of the aisles labeled 'T', I walked all the way to the end and surveyed all the books on the top shelf. A large, emerald-green book titled "Transfiguration and the Core of Magical Elements" caught my eye. Being the half-assed student that I am, I grabbed the first transfiguration related book I spotted and called it a day. I reached for the book, and along with it, came a small, barely noticeable paperback, titled "Cupids: Mythology"

I blinked, suddenly intrigued. It suddenly occurred to me that never, in all the six years I — or anyone else for that matter — have known Desmond, I’ve never bothered doing an ounce of research. I didn’t know where he came from, or how he came to be. I never bothered asking such questions, and I had no idea why.

Taking both books with me, I briskly walked to the nearest table, pulled out a chair and delved straight into the book. My transfiguration essay was long forgotten.

Dating back to the Greek Gods, Cupids thrived, and depended on romance. The genes of the Cupids are sporadically passed down through generations, making it impossible to know when it will reappear within a family lineage.

I skipped all the generic shit.

… The Cupids’ aging factors, one of the creature’s most difficult studies, remain ambiguous. Patterns show, however, that the aging process significant slows at maturity, leaving various lifespan possibilities ranging from 150, to 300 years. The oldest Cupid ever recorded was 289 years old. However, legend states that a Cupids’ aging process picks back up once they have chosen their mate. Certain rituals can range from mere speech, to intimacy. All Cupid-related abilities start to fade, increasing the chances of early death.

The Wizarding War dating back to 1300 BC, wiped out colonies and colonies of Cupids. Due to their aging process, Wizards believed in the possibility of harnessing immortality through a Cupids’ blood. Thus, most were slaughtered, leaving the Wizarding world darker than ever. Certain clans survived, went into hiding, and learned to adapt. Evolution and crossbreeding has allowed Certain Cupids to harness magic — although significantly less than any normal wizard — and retain its original ‘abilities’ as well. In 1783, the Ministry of Magic branded Cupids to be completely, and absolutely extinct in order to preserve and protect the remaining species.

I flipped through the book impatiently, suddenly uninterested in their history.

Throughout the years, Cupids became nomadic creatures, straying away from their nature of cultivating clans and colonies.

Desmond? Nomadic? I think not. The kid can’t even stand being alone for the afternoon, much less for the majority of his life.

Skip, skip, skip.

It is unsure how Cupids determine their prey. According to legend, in their earlier years, before evolution, Cupids were very similar to Vampires. It was believed that a bite from a Cupid was similar to an injection of amortentia. However, even after studying the remains of old-aged Cupids, it is difficult to prove their previous lifestyle factual. Upon death, all magical entities are whisked away with their soul, leaving completely human remains. In recent years, Cupids ‘hunt’ with a bow and arrow while following their intuition, which was believed to have been either controlled, or highly influenced by Fate itself.


In order to ‘cure’ a Cupids’ shot, one must be loved in return. In severe cases, a potion may be brewed for the victim. Rose thorns, doxy egg, fairy wing, moonseed, and moonstone. However, the side effects of such potion have been reported to be as severe as death. This is not a suggested method.

Well, that’s just bloody perfect, now isn’t it?

In rare cases of failure, victims of Cupids have been reported to develop multiple personality disordered, obsessive-compulsive disorders, dementia, and depression.

That is so comforting. Victoria and Dominique may just turn into a pair of basket cases.

It is impossible to target the significant other of an already-made-victim.

Of course.

I shut the book with a surprising amount of aggression. Not a single bit of information benefitted anyone who was affiliated with a Cupid. Reading this shit left me in the same place I’ve always been: Fucking hopeless.

I wanted to show Victoria what I discovered the moment I left the library, but I remembered that she was nowhere to be found. The amount of foolishness I felt was unbelievable. I felt like a child searching for approval as if I was dying to please this girl. I stuffed the urge down my throat and attempted to focus all my attention on my transfiguration essay that was due in an hour and thirty minutes.


So I finished my half-assed transfiguration essay, which was filled with the bullshit I managed to pull out of my ass after reading on page of the book I found in the library. That is what I call skill.

“I still can’t believe you managed to finish your essay.” Layla shook her head with disappointment as she piled mashed potatoes on the side of her plate.

“I told you before, Layla dear. You underestimate my power.” I mimicked with my best Darth-Vader voice. Albus was bloody obsessed with the muggle series for Merlin-knows-how-long. I think he still secretly keeps action figures underneath his bed.

“You know, James, you should really listen to me more often and do your homework earlier.” She sounded like my bloody mother.

I stared at her for a while, before asking, “Tell me again, why are you not in Ravenclaw?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m too much like you guys to be in any other house.” she huffed. “Anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to be on top of your school work.”

“I find it incredibly hard to believe that you’re one of those girls.” Tyler commented.

“And what kind of girls are you speaking of?” She raised a brow.

“Like those cute dorky girls from Ravenclaw who are too smart to have fun.” he answered.

“What Tyler means,” I interjected before Layla could go on and on about how judgmental and shallow Tyler sounded. “Is that you are so behind on everything, but your school work.”

“Victoria takes care of everything else for you.” Tyler added.

She shrugged. “I just have more important things on my mind, that’s all. See, we balance each other out perfectly.” She flashed a bright smile.

“Speaking of, where is Victoria?” Tyler asked looking around. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

Layla’s eyes met mine before she quickly glanced down at her plate. “She’ll be down any minute, I suppose.” she answered. “She wanted to take a shower before coming to dinner.”

“Where has she been?” he asked further.

I simply stayed quiet and kept an open ear.

“She wasn’t feeling very well, so she stayed in.” she answered quickly.


“Anyway, James, you never did tell us what happened with Amelie.” Layla changed the subject. I almost snorted with bitterness.

“She wants to keep the baby, and she wants me to be a father.”

“No freaking way.” Tyler deadpanned.

“You said no, right?” Layla demanded. “Please, for the love of Merlin, tell me that you said no.”

“Of course I said no!” I exclaimed. I was insulted that she even had to ask. “I wasn’t going to let her manipulate her way into getting what she wants. Again.”

“Merlin, I really hope that she’s just a lying fuck who’s got nothing better to do that ruin other people’s lives.” I snorted into my goblet at Layla’s choice of words. “Just knowing that you fathered her child makes me shiver.”

“So I have a theory.” Tyler started, completely ignoring Layla’s comment.

Layla then rolled her eyes. “Tell me that this isn’t another one of your Cinderella theories.” She pleaded exasperatedly.

“Cinderella theories?” I questioned with confusion. “What sort of Cinderella theories?”

“Tyler is convinced that this mystery girl from the ball is trying to play Cinderella. You know, that muggle fairytale where the commoner parties with the princes, loses her shoe before she jumps into a big ruddy pumpkin?”

“Did this girl leave a shoe?” I asked quite seriously before I spooned my dinner into my mouth.

“No.” Tyler grumbled in response. “BUT, she did leave me some clues as to who she was. That’s more helpful than a shoe.”

Layla rolled her eyes, but remained quiet.

“So what did this prince do with this shoe the commoner left behind?” I asked.

“He went around his Kingdom and found the girl who fit the shoe perfectly.” Tyler answered.

I blinked. “Whut?” I asked with disbelief. “He went around his entire kingdom and put the show on every single girl that lived within the vicinity? What the bloody fuck?”

“Don’t hate, James.” He sounded like a bloody poof.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that there is not one girl in his kingdom with the same shoe size.”

“Thank you!” Layla exclaimed. “That’s what I said.”

“You’re both cynics.” Tyler grumbled.

“No, we’re realists. Just like you should be.” Layla shot back as she reached over for a treacle tart.

“So your theory is…” I trailed off, waiting for Tyler to continue explaining.

“Well, this girl,” he continued, sounding much too excited for his own good. I abruptly felt sorry for the poor sod. Here he was, ridiculously infatuated with a girl who didn’t care enough to step forward and claim her ‘prince’. “She’s a redhead, did I mention that?”

“Yes, plenty of times.” Layla snapped with a great deal of annoyance. “Let’s hear more, shall we.”

“She was so… real.”

“And the other girls in this castle isn’t?” she countered. “I’m sorry I was unaware that I am, in fact, made of plastic.”

In return, Tyler gave her a dry look. “That’s not what I meant, you little turd.” He snapped irritably. “Why are you so bitter over this?” he asked. “Is it because of Dom, or is it because of Desmond?”

I dropped my fork, knowing that Tyler had just entered dangerous territory. Even I was afraid for him. I knew better than to test the limits of Layla’s temper, and I was almost positive that he had just reached the edge.

For the past week, Desmond has been avoiding Layla. Judging by the looks she gave him whenever he walked by, he knew that Layla still did not know about his newfound relationship with Lily. Because of Desmond’s sudden cold demeanor, Layla has been in a foul mood. It was fucking ridiculous — how something as little as a cold shoulder could completely turn a girl’s mood upside down. It was one of the reasons why I absolutely hated relationships. It did horrible things to good people.

“What?” she spat. “What could this have anything to do with Desmond?” she demanded.

Tyler snorted at her attempt to hide the heart she wore on her sleeve like a fucking Christmas ornament on a Christmas tree. Free for the fucking taking. “It’s bloody obvious how he’s got you in a rut!” he exclaimed. “Is it Des that’s got you so foul and bitter? Or is it your loyalty coming out to defend Dom’s honor?”

“Shit, Tyler, you’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?” she slammed her silver-wear on the table and snarled. Her face grew red with each passing breath. She almost looked like a dragon, and I was almost positive that I was about to witness smoke coming out of her ears. “You are so fucking full of yourself.” She repeated before she swung her leg over the bench and stalked out of the Great Hall with steaming ears.

Both Tyler and I watched Layla storm out of the Great Hall with an immense amount of regret. I wasn’t going to lie. An angry Layla was a combination of amusing and sexy, which were one-hundred-percent of the reason as to why I was still watching her go.

“Bad move, mate.” I commented.

Tyler shrugged. “She’ll release some repressed feelings from the past week. I did her a favor.” He said nonchalantly. “She’s been asking about Des, you know?”


He nodded and continued eating. “She asked me about it two days ago, and then again earlier today. You can’t expect her not to notice Des’ sudden absence… She knows there’s something going on, but everyone refuses to tell her.”

“How do you break news like that to someone like Layla?” I asked, wincing at the thought of her heart shattering by my words. “She’s so fragile.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know how to handle women, mate. If I were you, I’d pass that job over to Victoria. She probably knows how to handle it.”

I snorted. “If anyone broke down and sought Victoria as a form of comfort, she’d probably pat their back with her wand and call it a day.”

“That’s… rather insensitive of her.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Victoria. She can handle problems, just not crying people.”

“There’s always Dominique?” he suggested. “She’s good at that.”

“Dom doesn’t know anything. I was hoping to keep it that way until things are sorted out.”

“Well, someone has to tell her.”

“What did you say when she asked?”

“What else could I have said?” He asked. “Des has been out doing Cupid business. It was the best lie I could come up with. He’s been extra busy lately, and we’ve made sure not to bother him until he’s sorted his own business out.”

“That doesn’t exactly buy us enough time.” I said dryly.

“Yes well, you try lying to the girl who’s been in love with the bloke for how long now?” he scowled. “Poor Layla.”

I chuckled sadly. “She’s the only one who hasn’t been shot by an arrow, and yet, it seems like it’s never going to work out of her.”

He nodded. “I thought about that too. She’s gorgeous, after all. You’d think that a girl like her wouldn’t have any problems with men.”

“She doesn’t have problems with men.” I corrected. “She has problems with a Cupid.”


During his school years, it was a habit of my fathers’ to stay up late at night, studying every nook and cranny of Hogwarts through his handy dandy map. I wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing that I inherited this habit of his. It was half past eleven, and half my dormitory was already asleep while I stared at a still pair of footprints planted on the edge of the south-wing towers. The name ‘Victoria Rose’ hovered about the single pair of footprints in the area.

After a ten-minute long mental debate, I finally decided to swallow my pride, and succumb to what the less logical side of me has wanted to do since I spotted her almost an entire hour ago. The moment I left my dorm, however, I immediately regretted it, but decided that it was too much of a hassle to renter the dorm with as little noise as possible.

Fuck, what did I just get myself into?

The journey to the south-wing towers took longer than I expected. When I finally climbed up the stairs and into the small space of the tower, it was almost midnight. I was met with the melody of a familiar song, accompanied by a familiar voice.

I was taken aback by what I witnessed. She was sitting on the edge of the window with her legs outstretched along the roof. A guitar was tucked beneath her right arm while her fingers danced along the neck. As far as I knew, the furthest her musical talent ever went was a couple of frustrating guitar lessons, followed by countless of temper tantrums. And each and every time she’d sing, her voice was obnoxious and shrill.

Her voice was low, soft, and incredibly soothing. I wanted to stand here and listen for a little while longer. At that moment, listening to her voice didn’t seem so bad after all. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to face me. I was surprised that she had been aware of my presence. “What are you doing here?”

I shrugged, shaking from my trance. Her voice was no longer soft and soothing. It was suddenly annoying again, and I scowled. “I found you on the map.”

She turned around and cursed “That blasted map.”

“It’s dark.” I pointed out. Fuck, I immediately wanted to slap myself after I realized how moronic it was to point out something so painfully obvious. “What I meant to say was,” I quickly corrected myself before my giant-ass foot found its way deeper into my mouth. “It’s way past curfew.”

Victoria snorted with disbelief. “Since when did you pay attention to the curfew?”

“Since you decided to hide out here in the middle of the night with nothing but a guitar and a thin piece of wood as protection.” I found myself saying.

“You care an awful lot, Potter.” She teased. “Be careful, or else I might just think that you were worried about me.”

What in Merlin’s name was I doing here…

“I thought you gave up learning how to play.” I nodded towards the guitar. “Desmond was never really the best teacher.”

She laughed and nodded, most likely recalling the faint three-year-old memory. “He yelled more than he actually taught.” She said. “I learned the song on my own. To be honest, it’s the only song I know how to play.”

I stared at her as she spoke.

“It was one of my ex’s favorite song. So I learned it.” She reminisced softly.

“Which one?” I asked.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” She answered with an embarrassed laugh. “It was all so long ago. Everything that happened before this year became a blur.”

I snorted. “We made a mess of this year.”

Silence settled between us, and I took it as an opportunity to share my findings of the day. I stuffed my hand in the pocket of my jumper, and pulled out the small black paperback. “Look what I found today.” I held the book out, and she took it in her tiny hands. “Doesn’t it surprise you that in the past six years, we’ve never bothered to do any research about Cupids?”

“Layla has.” She spoke without looking up from the open pages. “She’s the only one out of all of us who even bother’s stepping into a library. She’s told me the general history of Cupids. They became extinct after some kind of war.”

“According to that book, they were hunted because of their blood.” I informed her. “Wizards believed that they would be able to harness immortality through Cupids.”

“Because of their aging?”

I nodded. “I read somewhere that they used to resemble Vampires. How strange is that? Imagine vampires were actually created from a Cupids’ image. I don’t think anyone has ever actually seen a vampire. They’ve been purely mythological.”

“Possibly.” Too overwhelmed by the information in her hands, she answered passively. “That’s strange. Cupids start to grow old once they’ve mated. So the only way to live forever is to live forever alone. That’s horrible.”

I shrugged. “That’s life. We’re all going to die alone anyway. It’s all the same.” I waved her sympathy away.

“There’s a cure?” She completely ignored my comment as her eyes lit up.

“Don’t get too excited…”

“What…” she whispered as she read to herself. “What the fuck? The only cure that doesn’t lead to potential death is being loved in return?” she demanded as if there was a higher being that she was questioning. “THAT’S NOT BLOODY FAIR.”

Her outburst surprised me slightly, but I made sure to show no signs of such shock.

“This potion contains poison.” She deadpanned. “Who ever fucking made this potion was an imbecile. This potion would only work if the person was immune to moonseed, and the chances of that happening are slim to none. And moonstone? Seriously? When was the last time someone found an actual moonstone? Six centuries ago?”

“Just about.” I said with a shrug. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a half-empty twelve-pack. I pulled the cigarette in between my lips and lit the tip with my wand. I chose to completely ignore the fact that Victoria hated when I smoked. A part of me hoped that I would be able to get a rise out of her through my dirty habit. Maybe that’s what we needed to set things back to normal. A good-natured fight. Maybe that’s what I needed to get my head straightened out. It was ten past twelve, and I was sitting in the south-wing towers, with Victoria of all people. I could be sleeping right now. I could be reading one of my many Quidditch magazines stuffed into my nightstand. I could be fucking some girl silly in the broom closet on the second floor (the biggest one of all). Anything else in the world would be more productive than sitting here, with Victoria of all people.

To my dismay, the smoking didn’t faze her one bit. The words printed on the page had her too preoccupied to notice. She was staring down at the book with her eyebrows knitted into an unruly frown. Her fingernails drummed along her bottom lip, a new deep-in-thought habit that she seemed to have developed. Thank Merlin that the lip biting was over.

Fuck, I spoke too soon.

As she brought her hand down to turn the page, she slipped her bottom lip in between her teeth and began nibbling.

I forced myself to look away to take a long, calming drag.

“So I’m stuck like this forever?” she concluded. I turned back to her only to see worry etched across her face. Her fingers took a liking to flipping the pages until they reached the end of the book. I supposed she was in search for answers and possibilities. “I’m going to be in love with you forever, Potter.” She stated bluntly. “I’m going to be in love with your horrendous manners and pretentious personality. That is just bloody perfect.”

I scowled. Leave it to Victoria to have a beautifully structured sentence into something completely dysfunctional. I took another drag, as I looked away. I didn’t think much of the words that were leaving my mouth. The moment didn’t give me a reason to.

“Don’t worry.” I said in attempts to reassure her. “There’s still hope for you.”

“What?” she asked.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Who knows, Vic. You may not have to be in love with me forever after all.”

“And what makes you say that…”

“You — you’re just someone anyone could fall in love with, that’s all.” I admitted.

“I don’t know if you’re being serious, or if you’re being the biggest jerk on the planet…”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious. Now don’t go all gaga thinking that I’m in love with you or anything like that… I still can’t stand you.”

“Then what are you saying?” she asked softly.

“Never mind.” I failed to cover any hints of annoyance.

Unexpectedly, with slow, hesitant movements, she reached for the pack of cigarettes sitting beside me. She gently tapped the bottom of the pack before her slender fingers swiftly drew out a cigarette. Soon after, the cigarette was dangling between her already parted lips as she pressed her wand to the tip. There was something oddly fascinating about watching Victoria smoke. Perhaps it had something to do with her increasing vulnerability with every drag.

Despite my better judgment, I didn’t bother stopping her. I knew for a fact that if Desmond witnessed my allowing her to slowly kill herself, he would beat the bloody shit out of me. But at that moment, I didn’t care. She could smoke all she wanted. I was too preoccupied watching her every move.

She blew out a line of smoke and said, “You’re staring.” She pointed out.

“You can be quite interesting.” I replied with a smirk. I sounded more entranced than I would have liked.

Without another word, she took a drag, swirled the smoke around in her mouth, and released a train of smoke rings. Fuck, it was so hot.

I wanted to kiss her right then and there. Shit, I wanted to kiss her so badly. Cigarettes and Victoria. What a lovely fucking mix. It took every bone in my body to keep myself from leaning forward and having my way with her. Merlin knows she would have complied.

She released another set of smoke rings. “If I tell you something, will you promise you won’t be angry?” she began hesitantly.

My curiosity sparked, as well as my suspicion. “It depends what you tell me.”

“Just please promise that you won’t go on some kind of rampage.”

“Tell me.” I said a little more distracted than usual. My eyes were set on the burning cigarette in between her lips.

“You know that girl Tyler’s been looking everywhere for?” she began biting her lip again. The pair of pinkness captured my attention more than her words did. “Yesterday, I found out who she was.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Remember that you promised you won’t be angry.”

“Would you just get on with it?” I growled.

She nibbled on her bottom lip again and looked at me before she continued. “It’s Lily.”

“Sorry, what?”

“She’s the girl Tyler’s been going mad over.” She continued. “Before Lily hooked up with Desmond during the masquerade ball, she was with Tyler. It wasn’t a long encounter, I suppose, since Desmond and Lily were together by the time we were unmasked. And you two were playing that switcheroo game till midnight, so they couldn’t have possibly hooked up then.”

“How do you know this?” I didn’t do well hiding the anger in my voice.

“I overheard Lily and Desmond talking about it. Lily feels guilty, and Desmond is beyond infatuated.” After I remained silent, she felt the need to speak nervously. “Some love triangle, huh?”

I didn’t say anything for a long time. We sat in silence. My world stopped, but time refused to. It sped by, and we chose to do absolutely nothing but waste it. I was too overwhelmed with shock and anger to even bother speaking, while Victoria looked as though she was afraid of pushing my temper straight off the edge.

I was abruptly more aware of her presence when I realized what time it must have been. For a moment, I thought about asking her whether or not she was tired. I thought about taking her back to her dormitory so that she could get a good night’s sleep. But then I thought about Victoria. I thought about who she was. I thought about who I was. And then I thought about Lily and Desmond.

For years, the bastard has done nothing but shove Victoria and I together with every passing chance that came his way. There were countless of lectures, yes, but he, along with the rest of our wonderful (note my sarcasm) friends of ours, relentlessly rooted for our ungodly potential relationship.

Suddenly, nothing made sense anymore. I knew nothing, and I realized it now.

“Layla was asking about Desmond today.” I began, my voice softer than expected. At the sound of the broken silence, Victoria looked up from her hands. She turned to me with a careful gaze. “I realized that we never told her the truth.”

“I’ve been thinking about that everyday since I found out.” She replied with a twinge of regret. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell her. Unfortunately, I waited it out long enough to know that either way, tell her or not, she’ll be angry.”

“It’s not our place to tell her. I think she understands that.” For Victoria’s sake, I hope Layla was more understanding that she let on. “It should be Des.”

“You should talk to him.” Victoria said. “I’m not saying you should forgive him, but I think that a conversation should straighten a few things out…This is a big mess, Potter. We can’t go about it like we always do.”

I chuckled bitterly. “You mean sweeping it under the rug?”

“I’m tired of dysfunctional.” She told me after tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s all I’ve ever known this year, and I’m tired of it. Swallow your pride and talk to him. He’s your best mate.”

“He’s the reason you’re in this mess.” I reminded her. I wasn’t sure why I was so hell-bent on putting Desmond at fault.

“He may be the reason why I’m in love with you, Potter, but you’re the reason why being in love with you feels like utter shit.” she snapped in response. “Don’t forget that he has absolutely no control over how big of an asshole you are. You cause 99.99% of my pain, not Desmond.”

What could I possibly say to something so brutally honest? I’m sorry that I caused you pain, I’m just being myself? I’m sorry that I can’t give you the things you want? I’m sorry that some fucking creature forced you to fall in love with the biggest asshole on the planet.

Shit. I was pissed. I felt like we were having the same fight over and over again, and I was fucking tired of it. I didn’t understand why I wanted to get a rise out of her earlier, and I was glad that I didn’t. Otherwise, we would have fought about the same thing we’ve been fighting about the past two fucking months.

“I didn’t ask you to fall in love with me, Vic.” I replied darkly. No, I fucking reminded her, because I was positive that the same exact sentence with the same exact order of words came up in an argument a long time ago. “It wasn’t easy for me adjusting to the sudden change in responsibilities.”

“You talk as if I’m some sort of child.”

“Well you are a child. You’re a teenage girl, in love. Therefore, you’re a child with fickle emotions. Do you know how difficult it is to suddenly shift lifestyles just to accommodate someone who barely even meant a thing to you?”

Victoria laughed bitterly. “Don’t make it seem like you actually tried, Potter. Those rumors — or has it already been proven factual — about Amelie carrying your fucking child proves that you didn’t.”

“Those rumors aren’t true.” I snarled. “How can you believe the rest of the castle, especially when it comes down to a girl who fucks more than a pair of rabbits?”

“I’ve got ears in the dungeons.”

I looked away, feeling my anger rise at the mere thought of his name. “That little rat Greyson, I presume?”

“He’s not a rat, Potter.” Victoria spat. “Just because he had the decency to approach me and tell me the truth himself.”

“Are you insinuating that I would have lied and kept this shit from you?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. Why would you of all people care to inform the girl who’s fucking in love with you about impregnating another girl?”

The thought of Greyson forced my mind to put two and two together. “Is that why you ran off yesterday?” I demanded, my voice rising slightly. “After you got that note, that’s why you ran off? To go fucking meet Greyson so he could rat out his fellow Slytherins?”

“I went to meet Greyson because he’s my friend, you fucktart.” She snapped.

“And is he the reason you ended up staying out all night? You completely fell off the map, and something like that does not just happen.”

“I don’t need to tell you where I go and who I see.”

I looked away, suddenly feeling out of place. “I didn’t take you for that kind of girl.”

“W-what?” she sputtered. “What are you saying, Potter? That I’m some kind of whore who sleeps around?”

“I didn’t say anything.” I replied dangerously.

“For your fucking information,” Victoria grumbled with a great amount of annoyance. “Potter, even though this is absolutely none of your business, I didn’t sleep with Greyson.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I kept my gaze glued to the darkness within the forest. I didn’t care about what she had to say. I didn’t want to care about what she had to say.

“We just…” her voice softened, causing my ears to perk. I made sure to show no signs of interest. “We just…” she sighed heavily. “We just snogged for a bit.”

Again, I didn’t say anything. I remained silent, leaning against the windowpane, trying to drown out Victoria’s voice with my thoughts.

She sighed again and folded her hands on her lap. “Potter, it was the first time in a while when I actually… It was the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I was head over heels for you.” She admitted. “I don’t know why, but when I was about to stop him, I realized that it wasn’t because of you.”

Her words took me by surprise. I quite fucking literally felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach out of shock, or perhaps it was out of pure fear. We both read the words printed on that page. Whether or not the book was a complete hoax, Des’ confirmation was sure as hell enough for me. I immediately turned to face her, despite myself. Her eyes were fixated on her fumbling hands. She was nervous; I could tell by the way she moved.

Nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Not Desmond, not my ruddy sister, and certainly not Tyler’s infatuation with a girl he did not even know. At that moment, everything came to a halt.

Dysfunctional became the norm because for one thing, nothing in Hogwarts ever happens the way it’s supposed to. Because people don’t fall in love the right way anymore. Because falling in love now meant a bow and an arrow, instead of legitimate feelings that I have yet to learn about. Because teenagers no longer grow up with eagerness and an open insight. They grow up with an incurable amount of bitterness that eats away the child-like hope harboring in their chest. Because we fuck more than we play. Because substance, alcohol, and illegality means absolutely nothing to us. Because sixteen became the new thirty, and we’re so fucking eager to get there. Because a girl like Layla is left to suffer the pain of unrequited love. Because a princess like Dominique had her heart broken by her best friend. Because my little sister fancied a Cupid. Because my best friend made it his life long plan to force two people who hate each other to somehow find out that they’re more alike than any two people on the planet. Because it’s no longer normal to personally admit feelings anymore. Because the norm suddenly changed to a girl admitting that I was in love with her, instead of the other way around.

Victoria was right. Dysfunctional was all we knew, and it was downright fucking sad.

Because this girl — This girl whom I was barely beginning to get along with, just admitted that I was potentially starting to fall in love with her. How fucked up was that? A minute ago, I couldn’t stand the sound of her voice, and now, here I was, listening to her indirectly professing just how possible it was that I was, in fact, fucking in love with her.