Chapter image by Clara Oswald @ TDA.
You know I’m actually a good person. Despite popular belief. I never talk back to the teachers. I’m always willing to help the wandering hysterical student that’s blindingly running around Hogwarts. (Sending them further in the wrong direction – is still assisting. At least I don’t just ignore them). I return all my books to the library on time (that was once, and I had a perfectly acceptable reason – and he is sitting right next to me!). To not risk temptation for the girls, I keep all my chocolate fudge safely out of public view and always eat a healthy amount to ensure it’s not a bad batch. (I can’t help it if my reservations are not gratified, after one piece or two, or six…) Anyway. I’m a saint really. They should erect a statue in my honour. Not make me sit through this torture.
I always thought my worst day in life would be when Nanna Molly finally worked out I was the one that ate the last piece of chocolate cake.
I was wrong.
Currently I’m sitting in a carriage. Wet. Muddy and seriously grumpy. With my worst nightmare, who is also wet and muddy – not sure about grumpy, but he does have a murderous look in his eye directed at - The guy I rejected, who is holding hands with my replacement. Scorpius Malfoy, Drew Collins and the bitch that stole my date. Well technically she didn’t steal it – I passed on it. And having only just made her acquaintance, I don’t know her well enough to know if she’s a bitch. Minor technicalities.
Malfoy just pulled me along and heaved me up into the first carriage we came across. Ignoring my protests that he was touching my person. I mean… EW. And just who happened to already be settled in this confined, restrictive transporting prison (Carriage of doom) - giggling with lust in their eyes. You guessed it.
Apparently her name is Emily Meadows and she is a Fifth year Slytherin. And she likes Transfiguration, cupcakes, photography, playing this muggle contraption – the piano, is fluent in three different languages, and doesn’t like Qudditch and Will. Not. Stop. Talking.
“And Fiona my doormate thought the purple suited my complexion so I borrowed Hannie’s Brown boots and my outfit was all set” Emily had just finished a rather entrancing and informative retelling of the selection of her Hogsmeade outfit. Malfoy was grinning. Drew was glaring. And I was gritting my teeth.
“Fascinating Emily” Malfoy said enthusiastically. What is he up too?
“So I feel like we should address the hippogriff in the carriage? I think it’s making things awkward” Emily declares.
She wouldn’t mean… No. Absolutely not. Could she?
Drew immediately pikes up, with a slight blush. I sink further into my seat, looking at anything other than Drew or Emily. And Malfoy looks confused.
How does she know? Why would Drew tell his current date, that she was his second choice? I mean he hasn’t said a word to me since Malfoy and I stumbled in hand in hand. I get the feeling that his mad at me. And he keeps glaring at Malfoy. I don’t blame him really. I can’t stand the guy either.
“Why are you all muddy?” Emily requests with obvious interest. Completely oblivious to the thoughts running rampart in my head.
It is weird I guess it took some one so long to ask. We are muddy, wet and starting to smell.
“Well I Fe” – I started to explain what happened when Malfoy jumps in.
“We were snogging!”
“Rosie and I were enjoying a romantic snog in the rain, when she got so passionate, she slipped and we both fell into a muddy puddle of love” Scorpius replied with a wistfulness in his eyes. Whilst sneaking an arm around my shoulders.
Fire. Kill. Malfoy.
Emily is looking at us with wide eyes. Drew looks like he is about to combust with the murderous scowl his shooting in our direction. I am glaring up at Scorpius with a lethal intensity. Whilst he looks down on me adoringly.
What. The. Hell.
Shit. Drew might actually believe him. Think Quick…!
“More like in my haste to get away from your sorry arse, I slipped”
“Rosie, we don’t need to hide our love anymore – we have been discovered” Malfoy says sincerely and so serious that if I didn’t know any better I would actually believe him myself.
Note to self – Malfoy is a scarily good liar.
What is he doing? And what’s with all this Rosie business? I don’t like it. It actually sounds nice. Why does he have to be such an arsehole! But - Argh!
Then I noticed the mischievous glint in his eye. He knew this whole time about Drew. I have absolutely no idea how and now he is causing trouble. I hate him.
“You’re... Love?” Drew asks in a high pitched squeaky noise.
“There just adorable, aren’t they Drew?” Emily replies adoringly.
And for some reason, in that second I realised I had a wand and could have dried myself and the mud clean off me. And avoided this whole debacle. I would still feel dirty and am in need of a nice long hot shower. But I wouldn’t look it.
Why am I such an IDIOT? Too much time with Malfoy probably.
Note to self. Spend less time with Malfoy. He will eat away your brains otherwise.
So I silently performed the charms. To also gather a few seconds to think of a game plan to get myself out of this mess. Even though my sudden cleanliness and the silence made us look even guiltier.
Damn it all.
Damn Malfoy to hell.
“So how long has this been going on? Emily questioned.
Game plan –
First. Remove Malfoys arm from across my shoulders.
Second. Hopefully break a few of his fingers in the process.
Third. Laugh like I never have before.
“I – giggle – Can’t believe – another giggle – you fell for – giggle - that”
Emily and Drew looked on disbelievingly. Malfoy was trying to fix his broken fingers. And I was bordering on hysteria.
“What?” Emily and Drew said in unison.
I took two calming breaths. And a silent evil cackle.
“After Malfoys own date ran off – couldn’t stand the sight of his hideous face – and I was just walking down the street – completely minding my own business” I’m embellishing a little. Sue me. The git deserves it. And I am also a very good liar. “She pushed past me causing us both to slip and fall. Then Malfoy walks along and offers the poor girl – in a vain attempt to get back into her affections – a hand up. But no longer under his spell – she pulls him down in the mud as well” Malfoy is positively seething at this point. “So unfortunately I was just collateral damage in Malfoy‘s rejection”
Luckily the carriage came to a sudden halt. And the beautiful walls of Hogwarts were in view. Smiling merrily at my companions, I picked up my shopping and flounced out of the carriage with a haughty air – as I somehow got myself out of a potentially damaging situation and managed to aggravate and outsmart Malfoy once again. Drew and Emily were in a stunned silence and Malfoy was spluttering a rebuttal whilst trying to chase after me. But I fled from him easily.
Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.
I sighed a relieved breath as I walked into the dormitory. Shoes, dates, best friends, enemies and mud. What a day.
I hope Al had a better time than I did.
I like the idea that I capture moments so they can live on forever. I don’t think I’ve ever heard something quite so poetic. Or romantic. And it’s not something I’m ever going to forget. Well I haven’t in the last 17 months, 3 weeks, 2 days, 15 hours, 22 minutes and 15 seconds.
The words or the person that spoke them.
My day was a bust. There was no zealous conversation. Or rhythmical words. It was just Butterbeer, the occasional laugh and ongoing questions about this seasons Qudditch strategies. It’s weird how even in company I can still feel lonely.
Rosie would tell me to buck up and eat some chocolate. Scorpius would tell me to go talk to Rose and bring him back some fudge. The two of them are idiots.
When did my life become so complicated? Here I am brooding in the Gryffindor boy’s sixth year dorm, on my bed, throwing a quaffle - thinking about him. I’m a bloody cliché.
Don’t go thinking I’m some pining idiot. You don’t understand. You see it’s like a complex Ancient Rune that no one is ever going to decipher.
I’m Albus Potter. Qudditch captain. Best friend of Scorpius Malfoy. Troublemaker. Son of The Chosen One. Transfiguration Whiz. And unconditionally and irrevocably in love.
Great now I sound like a thirteen year old girl.
Basically I’m an emerald eyed, dark unruly haired idiot. Cause I let him get away.
Why? I have no idea. Well maybe I have an inkling.
“Bloody birds – completely oblivious”
I look up to see my best mate covered in mud, hair dripping, looking half crazed with a face contorted with elation and complete frustration. Ah Rose.
“I’m not even going to ask” I resolve aloud.
“Wise decision” then he disappeared into the bathroom.
Not surprisingly another altercation between my cousin and best friend. It’s hard when they fight. Just another reminder. He was always so good at diffusing the tension. With his great big hazel eyes, entertaining stories and a smile that could light the darkest heart.
But now it’s different. We just exist. Separately. Divided. Alone.
However there’s no great distance between us geographically, his bed is right next to mine. The walls are covered in photographs – the moments captured to live on forever. Mostly of Qudditch his favourite subject, but also some of friends, family, and my pygmy puff – Where is the damn thing? Curled up on his pillow. Figures.
Essentially, he uncovers the hidden truths in the world.
There were a couple of us – well more than a few. Not any more though – the group ones remained. I fear those moments are lost forever.
Argh. I can’t believe it’s only been a few hours. It feels like an eternity.
Flash. I brace myself for the oncoming slaughter.
“You know next time you think of doing something completely cheesy – let me in on the plan first”
“It was supposed to be romantic” I reasoned.
“I missed Hogsmeade. Spent all day in the library – Alone – researching, trying to find a way to fix your idea of romance Potter”
“I wanted to stay and help – You kicked me out”
“Albus, somehow through a simple task of putting together a photo album – you fried my camera and scorched all the photos of us. I had every right to hex you to oblivion”
“I missed you” I tried feebly.
“Of course you did”
He clicked the camera once again. Obviously wanting a memento of my miserable state. And then stormed out for the second time that day.
I hate it when we fight. I normally do something stupid and my lovely boyfriend rescues me and fixes everything. But then he holds it over me for weeks.
Although making up isn’t so bad. And sometimes he only makes me sleep in the common room for two nights – as he misses me so much. Of course he would never admit to that though.
Love is completely infuriating. Sometimes there’s mud involved, with a smile hidden behind the anger. Sometimes there’s romantic gestures that turn into complete disasters. But sometimes they are the most important – and the moments that live on forever.
And who said Albus Potter couldn’t be romantic.
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