He didn't look at me during breakfast. It's not my fault I always sit facing the Gryffindor table. I never really acknowledge them unless Harry Potter just got back from doing some crazy shit. I tried not to look up at the twins, but they were just so loud and tall and all "Look at me! I'm doing something funny!" God, Gryffindors are so full of themselves.
"You're staring. Stop being a weirdo," Emma whispers.
I shake my head and avert my eyes. "I don't even know why."
"You're just intrigued," Abigail assures. "We don't think you actually like him."
I keep my head down for the rest of breakfast, too embarrassed to even peek. As I'm about to stand up, Emma elbows me in the side. "Don't look, but he's looking at you-!"
I look up and catch his-I'm assuming it's Fred's- eyes. Instead of looking away, he smiles cockily, as if he caught me staring!
Emma sighs, "I told you not to look! Now he knows I told you which means he knows you told us!"
Abigail does what she does best and giggles, which causes Emma and me to giggle. In response, Fred raises his eyebrows and dramatically props his head in his hands, elbows planted on the table. God, now he really knows. George, I assume, leans over to tell him something Fred laughs and responds, still looking at me. George glances at me and nods. I can't get rid of the stupid smile on my face.
"I really think the butterfly clips are working their magic," Emma states, matter-of-factly.
I tear my eyes away from Fred's and leave the Great Hall, chin up, with what little dignity I have left. I make it to the courtyard when I hear a conversation behind me. Instantly, I know my dignity is about to be stripped away.
"Oh yeah, what a slag. Just like you'd imagine."
I felt the pink creep up my neck, recognizing the voice.
"Oh no," Emma whispered, clutching my hand.
I glance behind me and see Bradley, walking with a group of Ravenclaw boys. "She let me do whatever I wanted to her. Easy. What else do you expect from a girl who'll hook up with chicks and dudes"
"We didn't even have sex," I say in a small voice.
"Ignore him," Abigail says in a shaky voice.
I take a deep breath and keep walking.
"Really?"
The new voice makes me stop.
"Yeah, Weasley, want my seconds? Well, I heard I'm fourths, so you'd get like, whoever's fifths. At that point, it's not really worth it."
"This can't be happening," I whisper, eyes burning.
"That's funny," Fred mused, "because I heard you're pretty inept considering all of your experience."
There's a long silence, and I make the mistake of looking back. At this point, most of the people around us are staring. Bradley catches my eye.
"Oi! Harper! What's your deal? You're just going to go around blasting my business?"
I quickly turn, but he continues.
"Don't act dumb! You've been going around telling everyone who'll listen, huh? After you were down on your knees, su- fuck!"
I look again and see Bradley clutching his nose, red spewing all over his shirt. Fred shakes his right hand and mouths, "fuck" to himself.
Emma gasps. "Oh my god!"
"She didn't tell anyone, by the way. I just so happen to be on a nightly stroll myself and overheard. Way to out yourself."
Fred nods to me and walks in the opposite direction. I stare, open-mouthed at his back. Emma starts pulling on my hand.
"Babes, we've got to go. And take out those butterfly clips."
"Too powerful," Abigail agrees.
I let the two girls drag me away. Bradley spits blood in my direction as Professor McGonagall rushes up to the scene.
I try my best to focus through Charms, but I'm terrified McGonagall is going to enter any minute to expel me. Surely Bradley wouldn't fess up and get us both in trouble... Or would he? And Fred. Why on Earth would he punch someone to defend someone he doesn't even know? Thankfully, Abigail is a diligent note-taker. The scratching of her quill is the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
During study period, I see him sitting alone, twirling a quill between his bruised fingers, which he seems to be showing off to everybody walking by. I wonder if it's tiring to be a Griffindor. He catches my eye and pats the seat next to him. Emma and Abigail are both at Care for Magical Creatures, so I'm alone. I hesitantly join him.
"Pretty cool, huh?" he muses, holding up his bruised hand.
"I wouldn't say so."
He scoffs. "Cool enough to get detention over."
"I'm sorry," I say softly.
He shrugs and blows a bubble in his gum until it pops. "Thankfully, it's with McGonagall. Just a typical Wednesday night."
I pull out Advanced Potions and Fred wrinkles his nose. "Gross, you work in between classes?"
I stare at him blankly. "Uh, yeah? I need to study, and Potions is my worst subject."
He leans over as I flip through the pages. "Do you need help? I'm actually pretty good at Potions."
"What do you mean 'actually'?"
"Well, I'm only in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology."
I stare at him again, this time realizing how close our faces are. "Only three?"
Fred shrugs, turning his attention to the parchment in front of him. He starts scribbling but stays leaning towards me. "George and I are only in school for our mum. In case you haven't heard, we're very successful entrepreneurs."
I snort. I've bought a Nosebleed Nougat from one of them before because I had an essay that needed to finish for my next class.
"Well, anyway, if you need help with..." he peeks at my book and grins slyly, " memorizing how to make the Elixir to Induce Euphoria let me know."
A blush spreads and I continue flipping through the pages. I am so tired of blushing.
"No, I'm actually studying Everlasting Elixirs, and I don't need your help." I begin working on my Potions essay, going back and forth from the book to my parchment. It's quiet for a moment.
"Well, if you did want my help, which you don't, but if you did, you might want to know," He points to what I just wrote, and somehow, without even looking at him, I can tell he's smiling. "Everlasting Elixirs never run out or have effects that last forever."
I ignore him but make corrections to my essay.
"Man, you're so obviously my type."
My quill continues to scratch on parchment, a bit more fervently.
"Because the Griffindor in me simply cannot resist a girl ignoring me."
A small smile forms, and he takes that as his cue to continue.
"What kind of Ravenclaw are you? The super-smart kind? Artsy? I bet you draw a lot. Maybe you have a photographic memory. No, if you did, you wouldn't suck at potions. You seem like you're pretty witty too. Maybe you're one of those fashion-forward people. I haven't really noticed you before yesterday, so I don't know what you look like out of your uniform. But these clips are pretty cute." He pokes each butterfly, and I can't tell if I'm happy I left them in.
"You must be the kind of Gryffindor that loves to hear himself talk, " I say softly.
"Must be why I have a twin," he says before making another correction to my essay.
