Cold Skin

Twenty-One: She Chose the Gryffindors

"What?" Gia was furiously brushing her wet hair. Hermoine, George, and Fred stood behind her. Fred was shifting on his heels making her anxious. "Would you stop that bloody shaking? It makes me nervous."

"Shut up Gia." He forced his hands into his pockets and walked out of the bathroom and laid on her bed, spinning his wand in his hand.

Hermoine gave Gia a frustrated look. She sat on the counter and gave her a tired sigh. "Come on Gee, lighten up."

"I have nothing to say to him." She turned back to her mirror and smeared lip gloss over her rosy lips. She cast a drying charm on her hair and her curls sprung to their full volume. "He had all weekend to talk to me but no, he's squatting in the Gryffindor common room like a coward."

"He's hurting." George defend him, he leaned on the counter next to Hermoine,

"He's a bloody idiot if you ask me." She got up from her chair and walked towards the door and slipped on her crushed velvet pumps.

Hermoine rolled her eyes, followed by an audible sigh from George. "We hate it when you do this." Hermoine had jumped down from the counter and began walking towards her.

"I have things to do and more important people to meet." She walked out and turned to Fred. He didn't face her but focused his attention on his wand. "Are you staying?"

"I would like to... talk." He pushed himself up and made eye contact with her. She melted at the sight of his brown eyes locking with hers. She felt dirty that he had felt so awful because of her.

"Dinner. Tonight. In here. Alone. Nine." She kept it short and to the point and slipped out.

    Quidditch. In the morning. In November. How could she be so idiotic? But she had very little time before this afternoon's Quidditch match. Gryffindor. This was going to be difficult. Fred was angry with her, which definitely meant that all the Gryffindor's were upset with her. Lee. He usually showed her some mercy when commenting. Today was going to be a nightmare.

    ***

    Eating something, anything would help. After lunch, she had the long-awaited match against Gryffindor. She hated their captain. Her confidence. Her stupid red Quidditch sweater made her dark skin more beautiful, more desirable. No wonder she had kissed Fred last December. He used to like her, they dated. Of course, can you call it dating when you're twelve?

    "Are you ready... Captain?" Theo had a seductive look on his face as he held a hand out to her. He pulled her up from her seat at the table and into him. His scent overwhelmed her senses, she needed to cough. "You are so..."

    "Hot? Theo come on, widen your vocabulary. Junoesque, beauteous, pulchritudinous" She corrected him as she ran a hand across his jaw and leaned near his lips. She could feel his cold breath on hers. His lips were in reach when she stopped. "Never again, Nott." She pulled out and walked away. Alice looked towards her and shook her head.

    "Up to old antics I see."

    "Why not use what works."

    ***

    That Quidditch match seemed to be in her favour. Forty to nothing. That bloody song was hurting her ears. 'Weasley is our King', could they be any more immature. Harry, please let her win. Don't see that bloody snitch for once in your life. Draco, stop relying on Harry to see it for you. Anything. Bludgers were flying at her Slytherin teammates. Fred and George were stronger than Crabbe and Goyle, more precise and accurate. None came her way. Usual for them. Fuck, Harry. He saw it. She saw his face contort. Draco was closer. Harry... got it. Of bloody course.