Dandelions

A REALIZATION AND A WEIRD CONVERSATION

The crunching of leaves meant two things: the fast approach of autumn and the nearing of semester exams. The looming Christmas holiday that hid just behind quidditch season sent professors into a panic of assignments and practicums, causing a flurry of activity across all the castle as students scurried from class to library--from library to dorm.

Robes and pointed hats darted across cobblestone and Rory could swear not a single corner of the castle was quiet for longer than an awkward pause. His surprise when the twins invited him to study in the common area was immeasurable.

"So, how does it feel to be one of the girls?" Fred lightly commented as he sprawled across the floor in front of the fireplace.

Rory quickly realized that some members of the study group were less concerned with their grades.

"Knock it off, Fred," he barked in retort.

"I'm just asking," the redhead pulled his hands back in surrender, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"And I'll just shove my foot right up your-"

"Ladies, ladies," Lee fussed, putting his book down slightly to peer over the edge disapprovingly. "No fighting in the common room."

"If we go into the corridor, can I sock him in the nose?" Rory asked bluntly.

"Lee," Fred pleaded quietly, looking up at him with a worried smile.

"Sure," he shrugged, unconcerned with Fred's nose getting any more crooked, "Knock yourself--or, well, knock him out."

However, there was one serious exception to the careless nature the group had taken on.

"Rory, what's this rune again?" George held up a ripped piece of parchment with a rune hastily scrawled on it in blotchy ink, but Rory could still just barely make it out.

His ears burned as he turned to speak to George, a fluttery feeling immediately invading his chest as the sound of his name coasted in George's voice. There was something about the fact that there was an entire common room to sit in, yet George chose to sit right beside Rory, that made him feel special--like he was chosen. That conscious observation he made every time George called his attention made his face feel hot and his heart thud against his chest.

This routine was getting old. The blushing, the racing thoughts--Rory found himself wishing that he'd gotten a crush on someone he didn't see so often. Someone a bit further away. But, then again, that spot was already filled by someone who wasn't quite as far away as Rory had hoped.

Oliver Wood, sitting at the far end of the common area, was hunched over a long piece of parchment. Books splayed out across the surface in front of him, and every so often he'd lean forward to flip to a different page, just barely making his jumper ride up. Rory watched his head tilt to the side as he concentrated, eyes lingering just a little too long on the nape of his neck. Of course, he could only look over in brief glances--what sort of shit would he get if his friends noticed where his eyes strayed?

"Hey! I didn't appoint him as the only guy chaser," Fred carried on, despite the fact nobody really cared.

"What's this about Roland being the only male chaser?" Angelina and Katie came in hot from the stairwell to the girls' dormitory, bags tucked under their robed arms. "Is that a piss poor attempt at an insult?"

"No, no," Fred sputtered, scrambling to sit up--looking like a deer in headlights, "I'm just- Well, I was just saying he's one of the girls now."

"He sure is," Angelina replied without missing a beat, shooting a wink Rory's way, "He's got ten times better luck with the ladies now. Better watch out, Freddie."