Chapter Seven

Seventh Years are insane.

Completely and utterly.

And this is coming from me.

Get the picture yet?

I walk into McGonagall’s classroom, James right at my heels, to find at least three separate couples snogging each other’s face off, a rowdy group of boys setting fire to other people’s hair, a boy with an oversized spider sitting on his shoulder like it was a parrot or whatever, and a girl lying across one of the desks fast asleep.

I stopped dead in my tracks to lift my lip up in a skeptical scowl. James strolled right in as if he didn’t notice the insanity. He turned around to give me a confused look, “Eliza!? We have to sit next to each other! Like we’re BFFL’s or something.”

“. . . But we’re not.”

“Well fine.” He scoffed, “How about BFWSNTEOIT’s?”

“I’m not familiar with that acronym, sorry.”

He groaned in impatience, “Best Friends While Sitting Next To Each Other In Transfiguration. Duh.” As he spoke, he sent one of those ‘dude nods’ that’s supposed to be the male’s way of saying hello to some kid with dirty blonde hair, “That’s Jarret. We were BFWSNTEOIT’s last year. See?” He pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his bag and handed it to me. I read it quickly.

James + Jarret = BFWSNTEOIT’s Forever

I mentally snorted.


He snatched the paper out of my hands and stuffed it back into his bag and then promptly continued to drag me to the back of the room in the corner on the left side. He pushed my shoulders down so that I would sit in the seat and then planted his own butt casually in the chair next to mine.

What a pushy child.

And so we sat there, awkwardly staring at the other’s shoes, until McGonagall finally decided to make her appearance. Barbie came in right after her, discreetly taking a seat at the back of the class. I think I may have just been the only one to see her, actually.

“Settle down, settle down,” McGonagall commanded as she strolled to the front of the class, flicking her wand to wake up the sleeping girl and to put out the numerous heads on fire. She rolled her eyes at us and motioned for Barbie to come to the front of the room, “Before we start class today, I’ve got an announcement.”

James looked up and his face went from his normal ‘I’m a moron’ look to the most serene expression I think I’ve seen on anyone. I thought maybe that it was just my imagination but, after rubbing my eyes thoroughly and looking at him again, the look was still there.

I followed his line of vision and found that he was looking at Barbie.

Oh, Merlin.

“James,” I mumbled, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He ignored me, his eyes still fixated on the young woman who was probably—at the very least—four years older than him.

“This is Franchesca Cook.” McGonagall told us, motioning to the blonde, “But you might as well call her Professor Cook. She’s not really a Professor yet, but she’s here to learn to become one firsthand. Be respectful of her. After all, she’ll occasionally take over class for me every now and then.”

I elbowed James, “Did you hear that, James?” He didn’t even blink. I elbowed him harder, “Professor Cook. You can stop ogling her now.”

He didn’t.

Giving up, I sighed in frustration and slunk back into my seat so that I could prepare myself for class. Believe it or not, I’m actually the type of girl who likes to pay attention during lectures—taking notes, on the other hand, is a whole other matter.

Me and notes don’t really mesh.

The notes started it though . . . they hurt my blasted wrist after writing so much.

Stupid notes.

Barbie sat back down in the seat she had first taken upon entering class and James’ eyes followed her like they were permanently glued on her form. I resisted the urge to smack my hand to my forehead . . . and to his face for that matter.

“Eliza . . .” He said so quietly that I’m not even sure if I heard him, “I think I’m in love.”

That did it. Up came my hand.

“James,” I said, closing my eyes and fisting the hand that hit my forehead into my bangs, “You haven’t even talked to her before and—not only that—but she’s a teacher.”

“A student teacher.” He pointed out in a soft hum.

“Doesn’t matter.” I insisted, glaring at him in complete frustration.

“But I’m in love.”

“No you’re not!”

“Yes I am.”

No you’re not!”

Yes I am!”

“You’re stupid.”

“Yes I a—Hey!”

I waved off his feeble protests and darkened my glare a bit, “Don’t even think about it James. You could get in tons of trouble; you could get her in tons of trouble too. If you’re really in ‘love’—” I did those nifty air quotations, “—with her than you wouldn’t want that, right?”

His response surprised me.

He sighed sadly, looking over at Barbie with a melancholy smile, “Right.” He forced himself to turn away from the beautiful girl sitting at the back of the room and began to listen to the Professor refreshing us on how to turn goblets into birds.

I felt a realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

Maybe in some weird, psyched-out way, James really did care for this girl he doesn’t even know, this girl he saw for the first time three minutes ago.

If that was the case, then I foresee a lot of drama in my future.

Oh, joyous merriment.


An hour and a half later, class ended and James and I began packing out stuff away. I tugged on his arm ‘cause I could tell that he was a little hesitant to leave. I could tell the whole time during that lecture that James was having internal battle with himself.

Mostly ‘cause he would talk to himself.

I would be worried, but this is just so . . . James Potter, ya know what I mean?

As we passed by Barbie she smiled lightly at us and James promptly stopped in his tracks, gaping at the student teacher. He pushed up his glasses slightly but otherwise stood stock still. Okay now this is beginning to worry me.

Barbie stared at him unsurely, “Can I help you?”

James just gawked.

“Sorry about him,” I told her, giving her the fakest smile ever, “He just . . . well, I don’t really know. But bye.” And with that, I dragged him out of the class room, down the hall a little ways and made him look me in the eyes. I glared at him, “James, what are you doing?”

“James is doing something?” A familiar voice asked, making my heart flutter.

“No!” I quipped, turning to Al with an actual genuine smile, “What’re you doing down here? I though you didn’t have Transfiguration until tomorrow.”

“I don’t,” He replied, coming to a stop to stand in between me and James, “But I thought that I’d talk to McGonagall about my schedule before it’s too late.” He noticed James’ dazed look, “Are you sure something’s not up?”

“I’m in love, Albus!” He exclaimed, opening up his arms wide and engulfing his brother in a hug. Al’s face scrunched up adorably and he did not return the hug. His eyes came to mine and he looked worried for his brother.

“Erm . . .” He began, “With who?”

“Professor Cook!”

My hand hit my face again. This boy is going to give me a concussion one of these days.

Al’s eyebrows rose behind his messy black bangs, “Professor Cook?” James nodded vigorously, and Al sent me a look before turning back to his brother with a worried expression, “James—no offense or anything—but that is possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever said in your seventeen years of living.”

That is saying a lot, Al.

“Stupid but true.”

The bell rang, signaling that we had less than a minute to get to class. I jumped, “Crap. I’ve got to get to class.” I pulled my schedule out and groaned. Divination. On second thought, why don’t I just skip class altogether? Begrudgingly, I bid them farewell.

“See you soon, Eliza.” Al said, winking and heading down the hall that led to Micky’s class. My heart skipped a bit at the action, making me wonder if he knew something was about to happen.

“Bye, Eliza!” James called, heading the opposite direction as me, “See you in detention tonight!”

And then he was gone.

I knew I was going to be late to Divination no matter what I did so I didn’t even bother picking up my pace. Besides, maybe if I get there last after everyone has taken their seats I can avoid sitting next to Malfoy. He wouldn’t dare save me a seat. It would only indicate that he was interested in me (which he is). But he doesn’t really want people to know that.

Neither do I for that matter.

I finally made it to that freaky trap-door thing to find that the ladder had already been pulled up. Well, great. Now what?

With a sudden spark of imagination, I yanked a textbook out of my bag and chucked it at the trap-door, hoping that Trelawney would hear the commotion it causes and let poor old me into her classroom. It hit the trap-door perfectly and then fell to the ground with a deafening boom that you only hear when a book that thick drops from that high.

“Goodbody?” An all too familiar voice questioned, “What the hell are you doing?”

I turned around to see Malfoy smirking at me. Awesome.

“Trying to get Trelawney to come let down the latter?”

“Are you not a witch?” He mocked, taking out his wand and flicking it at the trap-door. It opened immediately and the ladder fell down for us to climb. I picked up my textbook, dusted off the dirt and made sure to grumble a lot.

Stupid Malfoy.

I let him climb up the ladder first so he wouldn’t look up my skirt or anything. When I reached the perfumed room filled with tea cups and crystal balls, I looked around frantically to see if it were possible for me and Malfoy to sit very very far away.

Of course, it wasn’t.

“Nice of you to join us.” Trelawney told us almost sarcastically, her enlarged eyes scrutinizing us critically.

I laughed feebly, “Right.” I then proceeded to close the trap-door.

“Wait!” Someone called from the floor below. I jumped, not expecting for someone else to be late to class. I peeked my head through the hole slightly to see Albus smiling up at me. With a wave and another wink, he climbed the ladder and joined the rest of in the Divination classroom. I gaped at him, spluttering oh-so attractively.

“Don’t look so excited to see me, Eliza,” He said playfully, taking my shoulder in his hand and steering me to the only vacant table. Malfoy followed us and took a seat next to Al, a little put out. Probably ‘cause Al ruined what was sure to be the only ‘alone time’ I’d let Malfoy get with me this year.

I think I just fell in love with Al a little more. Weird. I didn’t really think it was possible.

“I thought you were supposed to have a free period right now,” I wondered out loud.

“And leave you all alone with my psychotic best friend?” He replied, “Yeah right.”

I felt my face soften of its own accord, “Thank you.”

He sent me a goofy smile, “Don’t get used to it.” He grabbed my hand and lightly squeezed it, telling me he was only kidding. I smiled, returning the gesture before he could take back his hand and then turned to the front of the classroom to pay attention to Trelawney only to find her passing out tea cups.

Last time she did this, I was supposed to die by falling into an incinerator.

Should be a fun class period.

I drained my tea and then handed the cup to Malfoy, who handed his to Al who handed his to me. I opened up my book and turned to the little chart that showed what different shapes in the tea leaves meant.

“Well this right here means love,” Malfoy said out loud, pointing to things in my cup that we couldn’t see, “And this means close or ‘friendly’. Are you, by chance, in love with a really close friend or something, Goodbody?” He raised his eyebrows playfully and looked pointedly at Albus when he wasn’t paying attention.

Did Malfoy just tease me in a friendly manner?

Fine. Two can play at that game. I snatched Malfoy’s cup out of Al’s grip and looked frantically for shapes and signs, “You’ve also got love in here, but there’s a little more. This one means ‘big’ and this one means ‘head’ so I guess you’re pretty much in love with yourself or something.”

Maybe that was a little pass playful.

Oh, well.

He glared at me, “Well this one means ‘desperate’.”

“This one means ‘Needy’.” I growled.



“Mine says that I’m a sexy animal? And yes, this book actually has a symbol for ‘sexy’.” Al threw in with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

And it worked. The three of us burst out into giggles, clutching the sides of the table for support. I smiled at the two blokes before realizing something. I think I just had fun with Malfoy. Well, I guess he is a little more bearable when he isn’t being creepy. But still.

This shouldn’t be happening.

Kill me?


*A/N: Yeah, I know this chapter is pretty short, but that's because this chapter is more of a filler heading up to the next chapter (which is gonna be a pretty big one). WHO WAS NOT EXPECTING JAMES TO GET A THING FOR THE STUDENT TEACHER? Anyone? Anyone? Originally, I had planned out like a one-shot of a character and an older person but then I decided to mess up James' life again (only because I love him so much).

Tell me if you liked!


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