Ravenclaw's Shadow

Chapter 2

Oliver stares at me.

“See?” Angelina demands, looking pleased. Oliver narrows his eyes at me and opens his mouth.

“I'm not trying to give you wrong information so you work on the wrong areas,” I say before he can speak, “I'm just trying to help. So is Angelina, if you'd listen to her.”

Angelina is looking very smug. Oliver sighs.

“I'll think about it,” he says. He stands up and moves down the table to sit with some other seventh years. Angelina shrugs at me.

“How was the observation?” she asks.

“The wha- Oh, it was really good,” I say, “Lupin was shattered after, though. He mustn't be used to late nights.”

“So, you found a werewolf, then?” Alicia asks, turning away from Lee to join in.

“Uh, yeah,” I nod, “um, Lupin knew one, actually, who's built a, like, cage, so he locks himself in there until he transforms back, so we got to, um, watch him and take notes and stuff.”

“You don't look tired,” Alicia observes. I shrug.

“I got a couple of hours sleep after dawn,” I lie, “power nap, you know. How was the party?”

“So much fun, you have to come next time!” Angelina gushes. I smile.

“I can't wait,” I say.

“Oh, we’d better line up,” Alicia says, “or we’ll have to dodge past Filch again.”

We walk into the Entrance Hall. Once we’ve had our names checked off Alicia, Fred, Lee and Angelina walk ahead of us, leaving George and I alone.

“So, where do you want to go?” I ask, feeling a bit shy.

“I don’t mind, where do you want to go?” George replies. I grin at him.

“I don’t mind, where do you want to go?” I tease. He laughs.

“Alright, let’s just walk and see where our feet take us,” he says.

We walk into the village, talking about our families.

“-and she started last year,” George finishes, “what about you?”

“Well, I have a mother and a father,” I say, “and that’s it.”

“Really?” George asks, “you don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

“My mum was going to have a baby last year, but…” I half shrug, “I like being an only child, though. Lots of privacy, no noise.”

“This might sound crazy,” George says, stopping and looking at me, “but you look different from yesterday.”

“Really?” I laugh, “maybe it’s the lighting.”

“Maybe,” George laughs, “your eyes and hair seem darker.”

“You're crazy,” I tell him, “come on, I’m chilly. Let’s get a butterbeer.”

We walk into the Three Broomsticks and squeeze through the crowd to the bar.

“What can I get you?” a waitress asks.

“Two butterbeers, thanks,” I reply, fishing for my money.

“I’ve got this,” George says, pushing my hands away.

“No, it’s fine, my shout,” I say.

“No way,” he shakes his head, a smile creeping onto his face. I can’t help laughing either.

“Shall we split it?” I suggest. He shakes his head adamantly and hands the waitress some money. She slides two bottle over to us and we squeeze over to a table in the corner.