“…and after you’ve finished polishing off my Charms essay, I’d like a written letter to my mum and gran, saying that I love them and all that mushy stuff parents love,” Davies casually ticked off his list of annoying stints, increasing my hate for him within each ridiculous chore. “Oh, and remember to sign with my name. Wouldn’t want any confusion, would we?”
My mouth made a curt line, strained. “Of course not.” You divvy ponce.
It took all my will not to bitch slap his flawlessly smooth cheeks, even though I would have enjoyed it quite immensely. Normally, I would not be as submissively kiss ass as I was right about at the moment. In a normal situation, I would have resulted in hanging Davies by his trousers on some forgotten tower of Hogwarts.
Tempting as it seemed, I couldn’t risk being impulsive. Being Captain was all that mattered, even if I did have to edit essays and write letters.
Oh, his mum and gran will be in for such a surprise. Dear Mum, Thank you for sending me to Hogwarts, it is such a grand place that I may want to take up Filch’s job and live here for all eternity…. or maybe Dear Granny, I’ve recently discovered that I have a phobia for old women, so visits to you will be quite scarce in the future…
Yes, I’m evil. I probably won’t do it, but in a vengeful dimension, revenge would be sweet.
“…Dobbs? Did you hear?” Davies snapped at me as we walked across the yard, a light wind billowing around the area. A dark cloud appeared hovering over Hogwarts, and I sincerely hoped it was an alien force plotting to abduct Davies back to the mothership.
Interesting fact, when I am under outrageous annoyance, my thoughts tend to spin quite sadistically. Not like that was any surprise.
“No, I didn’t.” You scum bastard.
“Well, perk your ears up because everything I’ll be saying is important,” the egotistic Captain babbled on. Was he serious? “Near 5:00, I’d like you to report to the locker rooms to polish my broomstick. Be sure not to lose it, it is quite expensive.”
If I shove it up your ass, would that be safe-keeping enough? “5:00 it is.”
He seemed pleased with my obedience, and it filled me with shame. Spending my Friday afternoon polishing an overpriced broomstick was not what I usually had in mind, but it was all to ensure my future in the team. I couldn’t bear to screw up.
But was it really worth it? Without the pressure of being a potential Captain, I would gladly be slapping Davies silly for treating me like a tarty maid. I could use whatever means of violence to silence his smug voice. No guilt, no pressure.
“Hey! Samuels!” Davies called over my shoulder, and I shuddered. Great, to add even more misery to my day…
The weather outside which was darkening, had become even darker behind me. Either a tsunami of evil was behind me, or Samuels was just lurking there. Actually, there was a fine line between both, truly.
“Yes, Davies.” Samuels responded, his voice bordering on irritated.
It seemed as though Samuels was getting the same 5-star treatment Davies was hitting me with. At least the idea of Samuels being as miserable as I was a comfort. Either that, or he was just as disturbed as being near the presence of me as I was of him.
“Come, let’s talk in private…” Davies’s eyes gleamed with the sick pleasure of what would only be known as satanic. “Dobbs? Remember, 5:00.”
And just like that, he abandoned me, as if I were some unwanted puppy to leave on the side of a road for some hobo to roast and eat. Thank you Davies, for being an official jack ass.
“Move much, Dobbs?” Samuels voice sounded low and extremely close. Within seconds, he pushed me aside gruffly, then scampered off to catch up with Davies. I stumbled at the force, but remained on two feet with a livid scowl. Truly, I pitied the girl who would end up with that.
“Manners much, Samuels!?” I shouted scathingly, loud enough for him to hear, and apparently loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear as well. Curious stares from the lingering bystanders hit me, but I didn’t care.
My anger was way too overpowering than my embarrassment, so I just threw my hands up in furious exasperation and shrieked, “What?!”
Someone, find me a punching bag. Please. Or something I can inflict pain upon. I’m feeling mighty violent today.
“E-Emma? Are you sure you’re feeling right?” the precious little blond boy walking beside me implored. Through the darkness, I could still discern his wide dark eyes, filled with admiration and concern as they looked up at me. “You still look mad.”
“Oh, don’t worry Preston.” I smiled down sweetly to him, feeling my former anger notch itself down just a tad. If there was anyone who could relieve me of my daily annoyances, it would be Preston Brooks, my 1st year buddy. “I’ll be fine.”
The tiny blond 11 year old always had a knack to make me smile, and this afternoon I severely needed it. Gallantly, he offered to walk me to the duties Davies so obnoxiously set me up to do at 5:00, and I couldn’t have been more pleased with his company.
Finally, we reached the entrance of Ravenclaw’s locker room, and I braced myself for one hefty evening of pointless polishing. Damn Davies.
Preston looked up at me with his dark, adoring eyes, glimmering from the torchlight hanging on the pillars. “I-I-If you need any help, just h-holler. I’ll help you with a-anything.”
I almost laughed at his sincerity. Mussing his blond hair lightly, I said, “Thank you Preston, for the talk. I really needed it.”
He took on an expression of pride, as if he were a knight in shining armor who had just impressed his damsel in distress. In a way, it was true. He was one of the only males in Hogwarts who had the maturity to talk to me without looking at my chest. And he was only eleven!
After Preston’s figure retreated away safely, I puffed a sigh and entered through the doors to the musty, sweaty aroma of our delightful locker room. My comfy lounge boots hit the moist floor, making my stomach gag at how sweaty they’ll be by the end of this clean-session. Once again, curse you Davies.
As I glided down the narrow hallway, I saw a light flickering at the locker area. Then, I heard a noise as well. Oh great, maybe if I’m lucky, someone sketchy will abduct me from this ridiculous job. It’d be better than spending an entire evening polishing Davies’s broom.
I wondered who it was and thought of the possibilities.
It could be Davies, who was waiting for me creepily in the locker room to initiate me into the Captain’s circle through trivial hazing rituals. Knowing how crazy my Captain was, I wouldn’t be surprised if that scenario ended up working.
Actually, could be Filch. Maybe he was pawing through our belongings. I have been missing a few pairs of panties….Lord knows that man is creepy.
Or, it could be—
“Jesus!” Two voices shouted in unison, mine and his.
Nope, not even close. “Samuels! What the hell are you doing here?!”
“Why are you lurking silently here?!” he demanded crossly, his sturdy figure emerging from the darkness like a demon rising from hell. The comparison was quite uncanny. To my disgust, he continued, “If you were that silent all the time, you might actually have the potential to be tolerable.”
Oh great, of all the things a locker room is supposed to have, he had to be included in it. I was prepared for mold, sweat, and other gross unmentionables. Samuels needed a whole other branch of pest control.
Defiantly, he stood tall with a glare pointed straight at me. He wanted to intimidate me, but that was nearly impossible, because he was caught in the act folding Davies’s uniform like a sissy housewife. And yet, he still had the nerve to insult me.
Did he seriously accuse me of lurking?! Honestly, girls my age sacrificed the effort to lurk around guys they do like, not ones who they would like to kill/ beat repeatedly.
A scowl formed my response. Prick. “I wasn’t lurking. I don’t just go prancing like a jack ass parade everywhere I go like you do.”
His scowl almost mirrored mine. “Just alert me the next time you’re in the room. I need some time to get the crucifixes and stakes ready for your arrival.”
“What do you propose, I wear a flippin cowbell?” I scoffed.
“That would be quite fitting, actually.” He smirked in my direction, sending my heart to beat furiously.
“Sorry if I can actually keep my mouth shut once in a while,” I countered, stepping in to face him with my full anger. All of my de-stressing with Preston was now gone. The bitch is back, and out for revenge.
“Wear girl shoes,” he ordered ludicrously, returning to his folding. “Those kind, I can hear.”
How did he even tell the difference between male and female shoes? What a wanker! Was he metrosexual, or something?
“Well excuse me,” What the flip?! “But I hate high heels. They hurt like hell.”
For a second, he turned in my direction, curiosity wiping away all of the previous rage. Wow, how one little confession can change the mood of the room. But almost instantly, he remembered who he was with and snapped his head back to his job, ignoring me.
Great. Just…spectacular. Davies was a real gentleman for this little stint, eh? Grouping the two Beaters (who so conveniently detest each other) to do cleaning duties together, in the same confined space, at the same exact time. And the award for Biggest Bastard goes to…
“Davies, may you rot in hell.” I snarled softly, not intending for my thoughts to be vocalized.
“Tell me about it.” Sighed Samuels from his folding station, moving onto the other team members’ uniform. Suddenly, he jerked straight up, as if realizing a dire mistake.
I eyed him suspiciously, for he had actually agreed with me. This was definitely a sure sign of the apocalypse.
He threw a quick glance over his shoulder before returning back to his work, shaking his head as if shaking off the idea of a mutual bond over hating Davies. Or a mutual bond over anything.
At that moment, I truly didn’t care. My concerns were only to get the hell out of that locker room and get some rest. And if I somehow pissed off Samuels in the process, so be it. Now, where is that broom. Let me go break—I mean, polish…it.
My body directed itself toward the broom rack, where all the team’s brooms were hanging. Mine was just fingers away from my grasp. I longed to take it out and then ride around the Quidditch stadium for a bit, just to relax my nerves. But keeping to my chore, I resisted the temptation and reached for Davies’s broom.
Strained, my arms extended all the way up to grasp the broom of our beloved Captain. I never liked admitting it, but I was short. And the fact that Davies’s broom was highest on the rack didn’t exactly pacify the situation.
I tried my hardest not to make a peep, afraid that Samuels will make some snarky remark of what I was doing. He’d love a chance to tick me off at a moment of my disadvantage, and would probably sa—
“Problem, Dobbs?” he called from behind his shoulder, as if having a built in radar to alert him when I was in distress, so he could gloat.
I didn’t respond, and didn’t have to, because Samuels spun right around, smirking at my situation, and then started to walk towards me. Oh great. He must have seen me scowl, because his sneer deepened even more.
Quickly, I turned around back to the rack, now desperately trying to reach the sodding broom, frantically grasping my fingers an inch away from Davies’s broom. Each step I heard approaching me was like a slow tick on the clock of death…okay, maybe not that exaggerated. But the point gets across.
Wow, this was definitely a picture-perfect moment: girl, hysterically flailing her arms like a maniac for a frickin broomstick as a predator-like-male prowls creepily forward to potentially insult her. Sounds like a horror film.
Grr, why couldn’t I be at least two more inches taller?! Thank you Mum, for passing your cursed genes onto me. I’ll be sure to credit you with a letter of gratitude.
Suddenly, a figure enclosed my entire body, pushing me against the wall. I wanted to scream for help, because Samuels was committing sexual assault on me. But then, I realized that he was reaching for Davies’s broomstick, and I was just oh so conveniently in the way.
I was stuck between a wall of brick and a wall of hard, muscled body. Uggh, did I just say muscled? The fumes of musk and sweat were definitely getting to me. That, combined with his proximity to me, ensured me a night of restless sleep tonight.
Quite the momentous experiences I’ve been enduring tonight. I’m sure I’ll relive them in my nightmares.
I heard the broom descend from its rack and felt Samuels’s body space away from me. I could finally breathe. Yes, and now I could finally bitch.
Swiftly, I spun around with an angered expression on my face, “Why the hell were y—”
My words caught in my throat so suddenly, because as I faced him, he was still only inches away from my face. He hadn’t completely backed off of me, but was still acting as a twisted little prison to confine me in. He even had his brawny arms over my head, and an amused and jaunty grin on his lips.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him, my voice a wavering whisper. I hadn’t meant for it to come out that shaky, and he probably thought he was getting to me.
One look up into his eyes sucked me into unfathomable darkness. Why the hell were his eyes so deep?! It was as if they were endless pits, for Merlin’s—Wait a sec, was I actually mad at this observation?
I’m going completely crazy if I’m arguing about why Jason Samuels’s eyes are too deep.
Oddly enough, I couldn’t look away. There was a familiar shade within them that I recognized, seen in someone else. My eyes couldn’t bear to look away from his, and he took this as a completely different sign.
He advanced on me, or at least that’s what I thought he was doing. What a sex-craved freak!
Immediately, I felt the pressure of both the brick wall and his body closing in on me again. The tension that hung in the air was so mind numbing that I thought I was going to suffer a mental breakdown right then and there. What the hell was he going to do?
If he wasn’t pressed up so tightly against me, my body would have slipped down and reduced to incoherent babbling. This was entirely a déjà vu moment, making me reminisce back to that grand old time in the locker room the last time we were in such close contact.
Looking back into his eyes, I searched for signs of pride, satisfaction, or even victory. But to my utter surprise, there was none. Not even a sign of arrogance. He looked…well….puzzled.
But at what?! The fact that he had me pushed against a wall? Or even that he was just barely an inch away from my face? Maybe even that he was staring at me with his unfathomable eyes, and I couldn’t even look away.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he murmured darkly, sending chills around my body although hot heat still radiated off of his. Oh God, I’m delusional.
Why did he have to be so close? I hadn’t been this close to him since—
The expression on my face turned from cautious to teasing, my right hand slowly running up his strong bicep. He stiffened under my touch, causing a triumphant smirk to twist my lips.
Of course he would retaliate back with the same material I had thrown on him. Mentally seduce your enemy and drive him or her nuts. He was acting, just as I had. Just as I will now.
When my hand finally made way to the top of his shoulder, I yanked him down so we were practically nose-to-nose. I mustered my voice up into a sexy drawl (or at least some semblance of it), “You know…Samuels…”
Confidence swept within me as I observed his eyes flitting fanatically across my face, as if checking for any signs of deception. The golden tints returned back into his eyes, and I nearly slapped myself for, once again, noticing these trivial details at such crucial moments as this.
We were so close to each other that I could hear and feel his ragged breathing. Ragged…because of me?
Then I remembered where I had seen those familiar eyes. Little Preston Brooks. Same darkness, both unfathomable. Same adoration? No—that couldn’t possibly be right. When I stared back into those depths, he turned away.
No. Not adoration. What the hell am I thinking? Being trapped by a man against an uncomfortable wall caused my thoughts to stray awry. With all my will power, I used my hand to push him off me as rough as possible.
“Sorry.” My voice came out sickly sweet as I heard a tiny groan of pain from him. I picked up Davies’s broomstick with a clenched fist and walked away from Samuels as quickly as possible, had he any other unpredictable physical plans for us.
Wait, why am I deluding myself into thinking he’s uncharacteristic? No. He means to pull this off. He’s trying to deceive me, just like I’ve done to him. This was all an act, a ploy. And even though I hated to admit it, he was good. That unreadable expression on his face nearly had me.
“You’re not fooling anyone.” I called out, brandishing out my wand to polish the blasted broomstick. The broomstick was so shiny that the glare nearly took out my eyes. What the hell? Did Davies need this sodding twig shined five times a day or something?
From his side, I could hear a frustrated deep sigh. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Oh, you think you’re so clever, huh? “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about?”
“News flash: I don’t care what comes out of your mouth.” He seethed, quite cruelly. It chilled my bones. “Nothing you say is ever relevant.”
“Is that so?” my temper was flaring again. Damn, extinguish why don’t you!
When my temper erupted, I tended to engage in ridiculously impulsive actions with no justification at all. So I wasn’t really surprised to find myself abandoning my polish station to near Samuels, just to prove a point.
“Samuels…” I whispered closely into his ear. I saw his body go rigid, then flashed angrily as he spun around to face me, his dark eyes smoldering with fire.
“Ok, what the hell is wrong with you lately?” he demanded, his dark voice livid. His tight jaw clenched, as if forcing himself some restraint. The manner of his arms were tight and controlled against his sides, as if forcing himself not to lash out uncontrollably on me.
The temperature of the room turned so cold that I nearly shuddered. He had never talked to me in a tone such as that; always derision, never pure rage.
“What do you mean?” I innocently asked back, playing the dumb card. It was easier to act clueless than anything this situation. He looked like he wanted to punch something immensely, and I wasn’t too keen on being that subject. Even though I wasn’t extremely scared of him, his Quidditch muscles were something to beware of.
“You!” He declared, all in an angry breath. “Being all…I mean acting like—no, just going around like—!”
I was truly astounded. Could Samuels actually not utter a single coherent sentence? Actually, never mind. Not so surprising.
“You babbling like an idiot isn’t getting you anywhere.” I benignly insulted, my voice echoing throughout the darkness of the locker room.
His face jerked to look at mine, searching for something that I couldn’t name. To piss him off, I threw him a dainty little smile before returning back to my work. From his side, I could discern his scoff.
“Never mind.” I could practically hear him furiously shaking his head as he spoke. “Guess I was wrong.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” I threw in with a nasty smile.
“Stuff it, Dobbs.” He darkly growled, his bastard form making a comeback. “Or I’ll make you.”
When I was sure that he returned to his prissy little folding session, I rejoiced heavily within. I was winning. I. Was. Winning. It was working, just as I planned. If someone saw me at the moment, they would have thought I was a psycho girl smiling like an idiot. But no, I was smiling at victory.
Because, I was finally getting to him. I, Emma Dobbs, was finally driving Samuels mad.
Dear Spectacular and Magnificent Readers,
Once again, I am truly sorry for the long wait! I know, nearly two months is a horrid interim, and I feel so awful about it L But thank you all so much for your avid support. If it weren’t for you all, this story would be a complete failure! If you liked this chapter, please review to show me! Because of the site break down, all of my reviews were basically gone and I miss them terribly! Review anything: favorite quotes, favorite characters, any anticipation?!? I love to hear it all! Or just ask me about it on my author’s page J Show your appreciation, and I’ll show you mine! So remember:
(haha I’ve been putting this in a lot of my stories and it’s been doing wonders :D The point gets across)
Your Obedient Servant,
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