Spoiler Warning: if you haven't finished reading all of Harry Potter, there is a spoiler from the last book that is briefly mentioned!
"I'm telling you," Clove groaned. "I know what I'm talking about, because I'm always right, and you know nothing, so you can just kiss my-"
"Oh, you're always right, are you?" Cato cut her off teasingly. "Always? What about the time that you thought that Legolas and Gimli from Lord of the Rings-"
"We don't speak of that," she snapped. Cato smirked.
"Or the time-"
"We don't speak about that either," Clove said waspishly.
"You don't even know what I was gonna say," Cato chuckled.
"Yes, I do. The Harry Potter thing."
"Which one? After all," he smirked, "there have been several incidents."
Clove scowled and didn't say anything, but used the hideous silence to stare him down.
"I was talking about the Kingsley Shacklebolt thing that you were definitely wrong about," Cato eventually drawled.
"Hey! We looked it up, remember? I was right! The Shacklebolts were part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight! And so were the Weasleys, for centuries, until Ron married Hermione!"
Cato said nothing but his lips tugged up at the corner of his mouth.
"What are you smiling at?" Clove asked angrily.
"You're really pretty."
"I know."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
"You're wrong."
"I'm never wrong."
"But the spelling of-"
"No."
"Legolas and-"
"No."
"But-"
"Why can't you just admit that you're wrong?" Clove cried in exasperation.
"Why can't you?!" he exclaimed in return.
"Because I'm not! What's your excuse?" she demanded scathingly.
"It's not so much admitting I'm wrong as saying you're right," Cato grumped.
"So I am right?" she asked knowingly.
"If you don't just let it go I am going to pick you up and throw you out the goddamn window and- what are you doing?" he asked in exasperation as she leaned out the open bedroom window.
"Checking how far the drop is to see if it's worth it."
"It's three stories up!"
"Mhm."
"I will drop you out of that window," he said menacingly.
"So do it then."
"NO."
"That's what I thought. Now say I'm right."
"I'm right."
"You little shit."
Cato smirked again.
"Stop doing that!"
"Doing what?"
"That smirk thing."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"No, I can't really remember..." he grinned. "You might need to explain it to me."
Clove groaned. "No."
"I'll say that you're right..." Cato said, his voice lingering on the last word until she finally sighed in exasperation and consented.
"Because you know it literally made me fall in love with you - now say I'm right or I'm dumping your stupid ass."
Cato grinned, obviously pleased with himself, and Clove's cheeks turned a furious shade of scarlet that concealed all but the very darkest of her freckles.
"You're right," he finally sighed.
"Thank you," Clove said in a casual manner that in no way reflected how fast her heart was thrumming in her chest as he grinned down at her and pressed her hand against his chest. She rested the other on the side of his neck.
"All that over the correct spelling of amoebae," Cato said calmly, but Clove could feel his pulse quickening as she rolled her eyes, smiled and slid one of her hands into his hair.
