Noël Night

Noel Night

Author’s note: First and foremost, this is a fanfiction. All characters you know belong to Jo, and all characters you don’t belong to Jaina, chiefly Rosalind. The story is narrated by Rosalind, who is Lily’s best friend. It is December of the gang’s final year at Hogwarts. I chose to call the dance the Noel Night because the Yule Ball is a Triwizard thing.

And on we go…

People can be really stupid, even at Hogwarts. Take the Noel Night for example. It’s this big formal dance for the seventh years at Christmas, except no one knows who is going with whom. And the reason is sickening and ridiculous: the so-called popular students haven’t got their dates yet. All the other girls won’t say “yes” to anyone until Sirius Black had got his date, and all the boys know it. They A.) don’t want the embarrassment of a “no,” and be officially considered a sloppy second, or B.) they know if they ask Black’s girl, then they’re gone. How? He’s popular funny, and can control the majority of the student population. I need hardly expand.

Yet that Black has to be the most horrible boy at Hogwarts. He’s the class clown, and all of his jokes became old and horrible after the first day of the first year. He hangs around (an understatement to say the least: try attached to the hip) with James Potter the stuck up quidditch prince, who somehow managed to make himself Head Boy, aside from acting the part of the schools biggest moron. Then there’s Remus Lupin, who’s quite the two-face. He seems nice and innocent, especially with the teachers. But if he really was that kind and sweet, he’d know to associate himself with better people. Lily says he reminds her of Eddy Haskell, but I have no clue who he is. The three of them are waited on by their horde of yes-men like Peter Pettigrew, boys who are so busy hero-worshipping Black and Potter, that they don’t even bother to make friends with people in their own hoses.

All I have to say is thank God Potter has a date already. Everyone knows Potter is going to go with his girlfriend Veronica Engerton. They might as well be married. She’s a Ravenclaw, but at mealtimes she goes over to the Gryffindor table and sits on Potter’s lap. It’s rather revolting. Then again, if it weren’t for her, there would be double dating hysteria running amok among us. One popular boy was bad enough.

Today, after Potions with Professor McShane, Winnie Frank asks me who I though Sirius Black was going to ask.

“Why do you even care?” I ask. “I’d say no if it was me. Besides, the lot hasn’t said a word about the dance at all.”

“Exactly!” says Winnie, “But it’s only six weeks away now, so that’s really close What do you reckon, Rosalind?”

“I don’t give at damn.”

Winnie walks off.

“I think that was a little too harsh Ros,” Lily tells me later.

“Well, I meant it. I DON’T care.”

“You at LEAST could have said ‘I don’t know’ or made up some name – one of Veronica’s prostitute buddies- that would have worked. You’d even be right.”

Lily goes on lecturing me, half-agreeing, half-attempting-to-be- responsible. We seem to give each other the “be nice” lecture about once a week. It was hard. Some of the other kids call us swots and other stuff behind our backs, but I don’t car. I had Lily and Lily had me. Besides, Lily is Head Girl, and I’m a Prefect, so were not entirely worthless.

As we walk into the Great Hall, I notice Veronica sitting on Potter’s lap. Lily stares a bit. I poke her on the small of her back. She jumps, then we sit down.

“What?” I ask her.

“There’s something between them,” Lily says thoughtfully. Not her too. I DON’T need my best friend, the only other sane person in this entire school, to join the bandwagon of people analyzing the two and their lives. It’s as if the two were Hogwarts’ own royal couple.

I’m close to losing my temper, so I try to humor her, and be nice.

“What makes you say that?” I say, but not all too kindly.

“I don’t think James is happy with her at all,” she tells me in a concerned way.

This is too much. “Not happy?” I say incredulously. “How could he not be happy? I’m willing to bet anything that she gives it to him whenever she wants. What more could a guy want?”

“ROS!” Apparently Lily can’t handle the truth. “I can’t believe you just said that!”

“Well, I did,” I say smugly.

“Have some tact, please.”

“Don’t tell me you actually like that Potter,” I say desparately.

“He’s not that bad, honest.” Oh brother. “At the prefect meetings you know he’s all business. I’d never have believed, but he does take that security stuff really seriously. And-”

It was too much.

“Lily?” I say, “I saw him yesterday, carrying a bag of dungbombs. I wnet up to him, you know what I ask? I ask him ‘ How many bloody dungbombs have you, anyway Potter?’ You know what he tells me? A thousand! He got ‘em all bloody wholesale! Who buys dungboms wholesale? Who NEEDS to buy dungbombs wholesale?”

Lily laughs. “I digress. He really bought a thousand dungbomgs?”

“Ask him.”

She gets up and goes over to where Potter is sitting. I follow her.

“James?” Lily asks. Veronica is still sitting on his lap. She gives Lily a nasty look.

“Mmm?” Potter says. He’s reasonably polite to her as opposed to the way he snaps at me. It’s probably the Head Boy had better be nice to the Head Girl deal. If they didn’t have to work together on so much, I doubt he’d be that nice.

“Did you REALLY buy a thousand dungbombs?”

Black, who is sitting near Potter starts laughing his head off. Potter just smiles. I swear that boy NEVER turns head. I would if Lily was laughing at me like that.

“Yeah. I did,” Potter looks her straight in the eye. “ I only really need eight-hundred sixty two, but if I bought over a thousand, they cost less apiece. It turned out to be cheaper that way. So that’s what I did.”

Lily just looks at him. Potter smiles sheepishly. Veronica kisses him. Potter seems to be annoyed with Lily, but she presses on anyway.

“Why in God’s name did you buy a thousand? What’re you going to do, dungobmb the entire school.”

Potter smirks, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Oh God! I don’t like that smirk AT ALL. He IS going to dungbomb the entire school!

Lily says something that I don’t catch. Potter tries to reply, but he’s lost again in the realm of Veronica’s lips. I am happy to see that Black is tapping his fingers, looking cross.

We go back to our places and finish eating. We talk for a bit then go back to the common room to work and go to sleep. A normal end to a normal day.

The next evening there’s a prefect meeting. I go, as I am a prefect. Lily goes too. She was a prefect before she was Head Girl, but that doesn’t matter as Potter has to come. I don’t need to tell you he was never a prefect. But he’s Head Boy, thus making him the chief prefect, which is quite ironic, as he hates us all.

How he even became a prefect is the biggest mystery of all. For the last six years I’ve never seen him do work out of class, and he is always goofing off. I had to knock off twenty points for Gryffindor on the night before O.W.L.s for playing strip Exploding Snap. The memory still haunts me. It is also a prime example of why I hate him. He’s not funny, he’s just crass.

Potter calls the meeting to order. He has a gavel, which is completely unnecessary. Not only has it never been used in the past, prefects don’t need gavels. WE respect one another.

Potter bangs the gavel onto the table. All of us jump. Really.

“I’d like to call this meeting to order,” he says. Like I had noted before: totally unnecessary. We are silent already.

Lily’s stuck sitting next to Potter at the head of the table. It’s the Head Girl bit. The Head Girl and Boy are supposed to be equals, but Potter is a control freak. I’m always telling Lily to stop letting him do all the work, but Lily always says it makes her life easier. “Let them hate him, not me.”

“Professor Dumbledore had informed me that he will be unable to attend the meeting until later on in the evening. He has business at the ministry. He does wish that the meeting still be run.” Potter begins. I can’t believe Dumbledore left us alone with him.

I’m not the only one who can’t stand Potter, honest. A Ravenclaw Prefect and a Slytherin Prefect both have expressions of utter disgust on their faces.

Just then the door opens. Severus Snape prowls into he room. He looked around for an empty chair. There are two. One is the Dumbledore’s fancy chair. The other is to Potter’s left. I see that Potter has a smirk on his face. I can tell he orchestrated this. Snape looks from the chair next to Potter to Dumbledore’s chair and back again.

Severus Snape has to be the only person in the school who stands up to Potter. He hates him and his whole group. I bet it’s all jealousy. Snape really wanted to be Head Boy, and it was quite a shock to him when he found the title went to Mr. Quiddtich Prince. I’d be madder if it was me, and that’s saying something. Despite the fact that I loathe him with every bone in his body, I do admire his social bravado. Lily did once ask me who I would prefer as Head Boy. I have not yet found a conclusion.

Snape has, and makes his way to the Headmaster’s chair.

“Ah-ah-ah, that’s for Professor Dumbledore,” Potter says as if he’s speaking to a three year old. Talk about tickling a sleeping dragon.

“Well, I’m not sitting next to you,” Snape insists.

“I don’t bite,” Potter says jokingly.

“But your friends do.”

I can’t help but laugh at this comment. I expect Potter to say something, wise back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stares at Snape in a way I’ve never seen before, not easy-going at all.

“Sit down Snape.”

He does. Next to Potter.

“Right then….”

Tonight we debate safety measures and the Dark Lord. I’m surprised to see that the Slythering prefects are very outspoken against the taking no action at all. My mum, who grew up during the time of Grindelwald always told me that students from Slytherin were Dark Arts Supporters. I’d always though that she was being prejudiced. I never had nay reason to believer her. It seems as if things are different now.

Potter’s reactions are the funniest. He’s quite anti-dark arts but he knows well that new security will hinder his nightly fun in the woods. I hope he makes the right decision, but in the meantime I enjoy laughing at him.

The subject goes around the room until 11:30. Dumbledore never comes at all. That’s not a good sign. I would be exhausted but today is Wednesday, and Gryffondor has astronomy.

Now, all the other prefects are gone except for Lily and Potter. I pick up my telescope and wait with Lily for Potter to leave.

Thirty seconds pass. No one moves. Finally Potter makes an “after you” motion with his arm. Great. He wants to walk with us.

“Let’s go Lily,” Maybe we can ditch him. I hurry out the door to go before Potter can chase us. Mr. Popular could do to walk alone periodically.

SMACK! I fall to the floor and I hit my arm hard. It’s not broken but I know it will bruise. At lest the weather’s too cold to roll up your sleeves now.

I look up to see what made me fall. I emit a groan when I do. It’s Black and the rest of the James Potter fan club.

“Watch it Perry.”

“You watch it Black.”

“And do get off the floor.” I hate being bossed around, so I stay there. Black glares, hesitates, then steps over me. All his imbecile friends follow suit. I begin to wonder which was worse: being stepped on or bossed around by black. I need to pay them back sometime soon.

“So, James,” Remus Lupin asks him, “Did the meeting go well?”

“Depends on who you are.”

“Ah.” I don’t want to know. I’ve a suspicion that Potter said “depends” meaning that it was bad because the meeting was a stalemate, but good because nothing has changed for them and whatever they do out there in the wood. Probably potions.

Walking with those boys seems very awkward for everyone. For one, we all hate each other. The other reason is about what Lily and I are. If Black started talking out rule-breaking, I’d rat them out for sure. I don’t think they have anything else to talk about.

Black’s will breaks after several minutes. He keeps stuttering over things he can’t talk about. Like the next quidditch match (April) or badmouth McShane (my favorite teacher thank you).

Finally, he chooses to bring up the subject of the Noël Night. Black asks innocently whether we’ve been asked yet. Laugh inwardly at his naïveté, and I know I will laugh out loud if I open my mouth. Lily however, is not rendered speechless.

“No one has been asked yet, Black,” Lily says. “Though I can’t imagine why….”

Black shrugs, “no one’s stopping them.”

“Ha!” I can’t help myself.

“What?”

“So who are you going with?” Winnie owes me.

“I haven’t asked anyone, Perry.”

“Surely you must have some…” Winnie really owes me.

“It sure as Hell isn’t you, so I don’t know why you care. And it’s none of you business.”

“Just making sure black. Save you some public humiliation in case your potion-rotten brain decides you do want to ask me Black.”

Potter looks down at the ground. I bet he’s trying to hide his laughter.

* * *

The next morning I am assaulted by Winnie Frank the moment I step into the common room.

“I heard you, you know,” she gushes.

“No I don’t know, Winnie.” And I don’t. The only thing I can think of is that I found I got full marks on my astronomy test last night, and Winnie wouldn’t care about that at all.

“You walked with Sirius Black and his friends to Astronomy yesterday morning!” So I did. How invigorating.

“And so what? It’s not as if I had a choice in the matter. If I did I’d-”

“Did he mention the dance?” Ah. So this is what good old Winnie wants. I should have known.

“Well he did…” I say slowly, “and I asked him who he was going with, just for you.”

“REALLY? What did he-” Winnie is jumping up and down by this point. Pathetic.

“He said it was none of my business. It isn’t either.” Winnie looks extremely put out by this. I enjoy her expression, and in a fit of cruelty, I decide to have a little fun with the matter. “Quite frankly, Winnie, if he hasn’t asked anyone now, I highly doubt he’s going to ask you, or anyone else.”

“That can’t be true! It can’t! Why wouldn’t Sirius Black want a date?” Ooooh this is so much fun.

I shrug. “Perhaps he is a homosexual.”

“Noooooo!” Winnie runs back towards the dormitory wailing. People stare. Winnie nearly knocks Lily off the spiral staircase as she runs up it.

“What did you SAY to her Rosalind?” Lily nearly shrieks at me.

“Not much,” I say, “I merely suggested that perhaps Mr. Black does not date women, as he has not yet asked a date to Noël Night.”

“Oh, well that’s not-” Lily realizes the meaning of what I have told her. “ROSALIND! I can’t believe you said that! That wasn’t very nice at all!”

“It was quite funny, and it got a great reaction too.”

“I won’t disagr- IT WAS NOT NICE! I mean it. It’s something that Snape from Slytherin would say.” That’s below the belt, that is. I try to point out that I’m not that as bad as Snape, but Lily won’t hear it.

We quibble all the way through breakfast. As luck, or unluck, would have it, Black and his groupies decide to invade the seats near me. Lily is now giving me the “be nice” lecture, and I am ignoring every word of it. So instead, I decide to eavesdrop on Black. I notice he wears nice cologne, but that is all eclipsed by the fact that he would be eating exactly like this dog Lily’s muggle neighbor has if he were not using a fork. He shovels it all in as if he’s been starved in Azkaban. And it’s not like Black needs any more food than he’s already getting. Lily says he would be an American football player if he were a muggle.

“James, you’ve got to do something, you can’t keep putting it off. It’ll be too late, and soon you’ll be roped into doing something that you don’t want to do.” Black sounds somewhat annoyed. But not that annoyed. I’ve only seen the pair truly mad at each other once. It was last year, and I haven’t the faintest idea why. They were both ripping mad, but apparently it was supposed to be a secret, so they couldn’t scream at each other in the common room like normal people. Their poor lackey, Lupin, kept trying to get them back together, but Potter kept insisting that Lupin should be very angry with Black. It was quite funny, except nothing seemed right in school for the week that they were angry.

“Don’t worry about me, just-” Potter’s voice is really low. “It’s hard. Do your own thing, Sirius, you don’t need to wait for me. I might as well not…”

“But James, it’s what you want to do, you’ve only said it a million times. And I have to wait for you. If I don’t she’ll think the deal is done.” Potter groans. “Today. Stop being Mr. Nobility.” Hah! Like he ever was.

“Hullo Veronica.” Joyous joy of joys. She sits herself on Potter’s lap, kisses him on the cheek, and picks up one of his sausages with her fingers. Veronica puts the sausage in his mouth. He takes a bite. Potter puts his arm around her back. The position is not quite right, and his fingers are moving wildly. It has to be some sort of sign language because Black shakes his head in disgust after he finishes, and turns to the fat boy from Slytherin, who, like Veronica, really should be eating at his own table. The Slytherin says something, and Black grabs the last sausage off of Veronica’s plate and gives to him before Veronica can get at it. He doesn’t need any sausage that’s for sure, but at least I don’t have to watch that poor excuse for a female feed Potter.

“So, Ros, what are you going to say to Winnie?” I jump. Oh, Lily has decided not to talk at me anymore, but rather to me.

“Nothing. I doubt… you know,” I almost said it right next to Black. That could be interesting, but I don’t want a fight this early in the morning. “She’ll get over it after.”

Lily just scowls.

* * *

After charms that day, I am pretty stressed. Not Ms. Lily Evans. She can do charms so well it really is disgusting. I tell her this, but Lily just says “potions” to me. That keeps me quiet. I am quite good in the class.

Actually, we are walking to potions class. Veronica, Black and Potter are walking in back of us. I walk faster than normal. Wouldn’t want to get in the way now would I? Some middle age woman walks by us and stands at the statue of the gargoyle that is in the hallway. I can tell immediately that she’s going to see Dumbledore because the gargoyle is where the entrance to his office and quarters is. I’ve never been to Dumbledore’s office actually. The only reason I know that is the entrance is because Lily saw Potter come out of the hole behind the gargoyle once, and she asked him where it went. Potter told her, and she told me. Ever since I’ve known about it being there, I’ve seen Potter or Black or that Slytherin boy who thinks he’s a Gryffindor going or leaving there at least once a week. The only person I’ve never seen there is their friend Lupin, whom they are way too friendly with not to involve him in their evil plots. The funniest thing is that once I saw Lupin arguing with Black and Potter to let him get in trouble for once. I don’t know what was worse, Lupin begging to get into trouble, or the fact that he has to ask permission from Black and Potter to do so. Odd.

The middle aged woman taps her feet. I get a good look at her. She is one of those people who dresses as if it were half a century or so ago, except if she had lived half a century or so ago, she would dress as if she’s living a half a century before that. Her hair is in one of those old-lady curly stick-out dos. Her hat actually has a feather sticking out of it, and her white-gloved hands are gripping an oversize Chinese-fireball purse. Her robes are white with big pink polka dots. I won’t mention the makeup. Although I would never say anything, and am certainly not licensed to comment on what does and does not constitute fashion by a long shot, I must say she does look quite funny… even for a witch.

For once in my lifetime, I think I agree with something Ms. Engerton has said. Do you know why I think this? Because even though she’s a comfortable five meters in back of me, I can hear that she has the indecency to make snide remarks about the woman. She goes on to inform Potter and Black that women like this should not only not be allowed to quit their homes, but be able to take up valuable oxygen that should be given to “handsome and beautiful people like Sirius, and especially you, Jamesie.” Gag me with a fork.

I poke Lily and we turn around to snap at Veronica. To my utter disgust, I see that Black is convulsing with silent laughter, looking from Potter to the woman and back again. To his credit, Potter has a strange expression on his face that doesn’t entirely agree with what Veronica is saying, it’s a mixture of disgust and cynical amusement.

Lily goes up to the woman. “Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you with anything?”

The woman smiles at her. “Well, I’m waiting for the Headmaster. I know this is his office, but I’m afraid he’s changed the password since I last came. He’s done it five times in the past two years. A sign of the times to be sure. Honeydukes is going to be out of different types of candy by the time this Dark Lord thing blows over if he keeps changing the password like this.”

“I’m not sure if he is in. He went to the Ministry last night, and missed the entire Prefects’ meeting. I didn’t see his at breakfast (probably because she was too busy talking at me, but I didn’t see him either) this morning. He should be back though.” Lily explains patiently.

I see Veronica whisper something (likely nasty and likely about us) in Potter’s ear. Potter is watching us very closely. Black is still laughing. I just don’t see what Winnie sees in him. I hope he is a homosexual so I don’t have to listen to the disillusioned Winnie tell me how sweet and handsome Black is, and just how much she’d love to kiss him.

Lily and the woman are still talking.

“Oh my, you’re Head Girl, how nice. You probably know my little boy. He’s a Gryffindor too.”

“Er-maybe- what year?”

“His final. He’s Head Boy. I’m so proud of my baby.” My jaw drops.

Lily quickly turns her gasp into words; “I believe I do know him then.”

“Isn’t he such a nice boy?” the woman who can only be Mrs. Potter says. I can’t believe any of this. She’s Potter’s mum. I never would believe that Sir Groovy Quidditch has an embarrassing mum. He has a fault!

“Erm-yeah,” I nod along with her. What an obvious lie. It is amazing how blind parents are concerning their children.

But not that blind. Mrs. Potter spots her “nice boy.”

“James! Sirius!” She walks toward them. I half expect her to say “got a kiss for your old mum” but she doesn’t. Damn.

Black is still laughing hysterically. I realize that he’s not laughing at Mrs. Potter, but at Veronica for insulting her boyfriend’s mum in front of him. “Always laughing at something Sirius,” Mrs. Potter chuckles to herself.

“So, what brings you here?” Potter asks. He’s looks really nervous, and I would be too if my mum came to school to talk to the headmaster and I were Potter. If I were me, I wouldn’t be nervous. I’ve never had a discipline problem in my life.

Mrs. Potter gives her son a look, “I want to meet with Albus about certain current affairs you know. That is all. There isn’t anything else is there?” Her voice trails off. “Oh and they’ve got the nicest hats in Gladrags….” I don’t care to listen to anymore of the conversation.

Dumbledore comes up to her looking weary. He’s wearing his traveling cloak, and I bet he is just now returning to the school from last night. Something must be seriously wrong.

“Mathilde.” He bows Mrs. Potter into his office. The password is “Blood lollipops.” How disgusting.

Veronica motions for Black and Potter to come back to her. “How do you know that dink?” Black laughs again. Lily and I laugh too. Can’t help it.

“You don’t want to know,” Black says smartly. “I- erm, need to have a private word with James, so why don’t you go to class, Verronica?”

“See you around then,” Smooch. How vulgar. But she is now gone. Neither Potter nor Black notices me or Lily, as they walk into an empty classroom. I stand outside the doorway.

“I hate when she does that.” Potter pulls a handkerchief out of his robes and wipes off all the lipstick from his face. What? “I can’t believe she just said that.” Huh?

The bell rings. Lily hurries off to class. I do too, but my bag rips and some things fall out. I motion for Lily to go on. Somehow Black and Potter are so thick that they see none of this, and ignore the fact that I’m right outside.

“I sure can,” Black says. “Shows you what she’s like. But I’m honestly glad she did say what she did. An excuse to tell her you’re not her boyfriend, and you’re not going to the Noël Night with her.” WHAT? Is this common sense? Coming from them? Impossible.

“Still… There’s no reason to pull a Rosalind Perry on her when she hasn’t done anything to me.” Potter says.

Excuse me? Pull a Rosalind Perry? I assume he’s using my name to refer to a sudden outburst of cruelty that would be used in breaking up with you know who. As much as I admire his goals, I don’t appreciate him mocking my assertiveness, especially in my presence. Girls need to be more assertive anyways.

“You don’t need to. Tell her your mad about your mum. That’s good enough not mention you can’t stand her.” Black puts in. Potter can’t stand Veronica? After all those public displays of affection? “You’ve got to do it, James. This is the only dance there is. If you have to go with Veronica, you won’t get another chance to go with whom you really want to go with.”

“But what if she says ‘no’? What will I do?” Potter says. He actually seems worried he won’t get a date. What planet is he from? The only sensible people who would ever turn him down are me and Lily, and he knows not to ask us anyway.

Black thinks for a bit. “Just be honest. That always works.” What would he know about being honest? Last week, everyone saw him put a dungbomb in Snape’s potion, and when it exploded, the first words out of Black’s mouth were “it wasn’t me.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I do too, James. I’ve been wanting to ask my date for the past two weeks, and I’m surprised she hasn’t been taken.” Guess he’s not a homosexual. Dammit. At least I only have to deal with Winnie Frank for another five month before I leave school.

Unfortunately, I’m out of stuff to pick up, and therefore out of an excuse to eavesdrop. Not wanting to miss any more potions, I run down to the dungeons.

“You’re late,” Professor McShane says the moment I walk into the dungeons.

“My bag ripped,” I say. I hold up my bag to show him.

“Acceptable excuse, Miss Perry,” he says. Some Slytherin mutters “teachers’ pet.” “May I see the bag?” I hand it to him. “Repario.”

“Thank you, professor.” I take my seat next to Lily.

At that moment, Black and Potter run in. Unlike me, they have no excuse being late, and get a detention each.

“As I was saying… Truth potions are quite controversial, and the Ministry has many laws regarding their use. On one hand, a person could be correctly imprisoned or acquitted of a crime, and we wouldn’t need trials. On the other hand, the power could be badly abused. When under the influence of a strong truth potion, you have no mental conscience, nor any power to avoid revealing something. Often, that power is abused. The potion we will be making this week is called Veritaserum. It is the most powerful of any truth potion, and it only needs three drops to cure you of any inhibitions about revealing your darkest secrets.”

The whole class flinches. Lupin looks sick. Then again, that boy is always sick, tired, or late.

Professor McShane turns to write the ingredients of the potion on the board.

“I know something you don’t know,” I sing quietly to Lily.

“What?” She mouths.

“The royal couple is breaking up.” I smirk.

“So? I thought you don’t care about them.” Lily demands.

“I don’t. But I’m as thrilled as can be. I’m sick of looking at them.” I whisper.

“Too true. You know, I can’t believe that lady is Potter’s mother.” Lily says.

“I can.” Lily laughs. [Don’t sue me Nancy Stouffer, I mean no infringement on your evil books. I’ve read “Rah” and it’s worse than a really bad fanfiction, so I doubt you’d sell any even if Harry Potter didn’t exist]

* * *

It happens at lunch. I have already finished my lunch, when Veronica appears, but I stay to watch the fun.

Veronica comes over to sit on Potter’s lap. Before she can sit, he stands up.

“We need to talk.” Potter says. He seems quite serious. “You know that woman we saw in the hallway before your Transfiguration and my Potions class?”

“That weirdo?” Lily and I both laugh, and look away, so Potter doesn’t know we are watching.

“That weirdo was my mother.” The look on Veronica’s face is priceless.

“I-I didn’t know, Jamesie, honest.” She is trying really hard to look innocent and loveable. It’s a good reaction, but it doesn’t fit well with her worldly and repulsive character. It’s as if Snape was trying to act as if he cared about something. (Aside from himself of course)

“I’m well aware you didn’t know, which just goes to show that you’re quick to judge people. You obviously don’t know my mum.” I have to admit: as much as I hate Potter, I admire what he’s doing. I know he and Black planned on him saying this, but I can tell means what he’s saying.

Unlike Potter, I feel no love for Veronica. She’s self-centered enough not to salvage the situation, apologize to Potter and say how wrong she was. Instead, she says, “We’re still going to Noël Night together, Jamesie?”

“No, Veronica, we are not.” The whole of the Great Hall is silent. Potter is a little off put by this, but as he’s Potter, he ignores everyone and continues to talk to Veronica. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for quite some time, but it was hard to get the words out when you mouth was covering mine.”

Veronica is in a state of shock. “Then who will you go to the dance with?”

Potter looks at her very seriously. “There’s a girl in my house I’ve been wanting to ask.” All the girls at our table look as though Christmas has come early. I hope it’s not me.

“But we’re still going steady, right?” Veronica looks desperate.

“No, Veronica, we’re not.” The silence in the hall is broken by a collective gasp. These people really need more productive things to do with their lives.

“Fine!” She runs out of the Great Hall in tears. The usual chatter of the Great Hall returns, except that all everyone is talking about is Veronica and Potter.

“I don’t believe it. I’d have pegged them for getting married as soon as they left school,” a girl at the Ravenclaw table behind my seat says.

“I feel bad for Veronica, but not that bad. I never liked her much anyway,” says a third year Gryffindor.

“He said he’s going to ask a Gryffindor,” a first year gushes. “Maybe it’ll be me!” Dream on.

Oh no! I realize. Now that Black and Potter are both single, there IS going to be double dating hysteria. This isn’t good. I want Veronica back now. Really, I do.

* * *

Double dating hysteria does indeed break loose. Winnie Frank has become completely unbearable, all throughout Defense Against the Dark Arts she blathers on about whom Potter and Black are going to ask. She is even more thrilled than usual now that her chances of being asked to the Noël Night are double. It is hard to ignore her, but I am trying very hard. I turn away from her and talk to Lily, surprisingly, about the dance.

As for myself, I am hoping either Reginald Jalbert, a seventh year Gyffindor prefect, or maybe Donald Finch, a very sweet Hufflepuff prefect, though he’s not too good looking and has bad hygiene, will ask me. I like Donald despite the fact that he doesn’t wear deodorant; he holds rules in high esteem and is very serious. If neither of them, or anybody else asks me by December, I am going to pull a Sadie Hawkins and ask Donald.

Lily says she hopes Reggie or the other boy, Andrew Weasley asks her. Andrew is a decent guy, though he isn’t a prefect. In fact, he’s keeper on Gryffindor Quidditch, which is a minus because it means along with the rest of the Quidditch team and half of the boys in the school, he’s a yes-man to Potter, Black and company. Weasley isn’t my first choice, but if he did ask me, I wouldn’t say no.

We debate all throughout the hour. It was okay to talk in class today, because we were being tested on curse deflection. To me and everyone else in the class, it was better not to watch our comrades get beaten, controlled and exhausted by Professor Sparks. Personally, I think she’s a Death Eater sent by You-Know-Who to scout who in our school would make a good follower. Snape, Lestange, Wilkes, Avery and Rosier love her. She actually shows us Dark Arts that she really shouldn’t. I can also tell that she’s not that competent. Winnie tells me that Professor Trelawney says that she’ll be dead by the end of the year. I don’t trust Winnie or Trelawney, but for seven years at Hogwarts, I’ve had seven different Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. I do fine on the testing. I don’t get full marks but I never do in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

* * *

Dinner is an amusing affair. The whole school now knows about Potter and Veronica. While the Gryffindors are thrilled, the Hufflepuffs intrigued, and the Slytherins indifferent, the Ravenclaws are rather bitter. They’ve gotten it into their heads that it their job to make every Gyffindor in the school miserable because of what Potter has done. If only he didn’t have control over the whole school, then no one would car. Instead there is a horrible backlash. Normally peaceful Ravenclaws have bumped into, squished, and dropped food on Gryffindors, mainly myself, and not even apologized! I can’t believe this place. I wish Potter and his friends didn’t exist.

* * *

When Lily and I arrive into the common room after dinner, Winnie rushes over. She looks at me, as if she wants to tell me something, but stalks off after she remembers she isn’t speaking to me since she’s mad at me because of what I said about Black.

“You really should apologize,” Lily tells me.

“Oh all right,” I say. I don’t need any more trouble.

Winnie is sitting with the other two girls in our dorm, and all the fifth and sixth years, they are all bending over Witch Weekly, and a massive makeup collection. “What’s going on?” Lily asks.

Betty, a sixth year explains, “Nora in Hufflepuff overheard James Potter telling Sirius Black he was going to ask his date to Noël Night after dinner. We’re all getting ready just in case.”

“Oh- OUCH!” I was about to say “Oh throw me off the cliff now and get it over with,” but Lily pinched me in my upper back really hard to shut me up. Always the diplomat, that one.

“Ros and I have homework we want to do, but otherwise we’d stay. Good luck to all of you,” Lily says. She walks over to an empty table with two arm chairs. “Ros, don’t start a fight, please. Let them be happy, they’re having so much fun. We both know that this has been a rather big deal, but do we really want to find we have no friends after the Christmas holidays?”

I give her a non-committal grunt. We breeze through Potions and Runes, and while we are filling out our astronomy charts, Betty, and another sixth year who I know to be Paulette, comes over to our table. I notice that both are wearing way too much makeup, and have straightened their hair.

“Erm- Rosalind, since you aren’t doing anything, (what? I’m doing plenty) would you mind keeping watch for James Potter?”

“I don’t-” I begin

“She’d be glad to.” Lily cuts in.

Thanks a whole lot, Lily.

For about two minutes and thirty seconds, I pace in front of the Fat Lady. He's never going to come, I think. I decide to take a walk. I see students milling about the school. A couple of fourth years are sitting around playing Exploding Snap (not the stripping version thank God). I also see Black, Lupin and the Slytherin with a magical measuring tape, a box, a roll of parchment, and what seems to be a map. Oddly, Potter is not among them.

"If we place one here.." One of them says. Place one what? OH NO! The dungbombs! I run away as fast as I can.

I find myself in the corridor outside Professor Dumbledore's office. All of a sudden the gargoyle springs to life, and out walk Potter, his mother, and the Headmaster. They seem to be talking chummily together, which is something of a surprise. Potter says something I can't hear, but it must be a goodbye, because he kisses his mother on the cheek, and shakes the Headmaster's hand. Professor Dumbledore and Mrs. Potter continue to talk, while Potter walks toward me. I begin to walk back to the common room slowly, when I remember the only reason I'm where I am is because I am checking to see whether Potter is returning to the common room. I entertain not telling them, but since I am a girl of my word, or rather, Lily's word, I sprint to the common room.

"Wildenbog!"

The group of girls is sitting around their makeup and magazines. Betty is putting the last finishing touches on Winnie.

"He. just. left. the. head. master's." I pant. They all shriek. I plug my ears. Paulette quickly shoves all the makeup and Witch Weekly in the bag and dashes upstairs. Everyone else grabs some chairs and lines them up in a straight row, making one for Paulette too. I shake my head and go back to sit with Lily who is reading.

"Where were we?"

"Number seven, I think."

We settle back into our comfortable pattern. After a few minutes Potter does walk in. The whole common room is silent. Not interested, I keep my head down and continue working.

A voice behind me says, "Lily? May I have a private word?" It's Potter.

"Whatever you want to say, Potter, you can say it in front of me," I tell him.

Potter gives me a look. Then he stands there, silent, for a few seconds, but doesn't leave. He swallows, and looks Lily straight in the eye. "I-I- I'd like to know if you would like to go to the Noel Night with me," he blurts out.

WHAT? POTTER is asking LILY to the NOEL NIGHT? Where did this come from? Potter has been meaning to ask Lily the whole time? Lily's the girl he really likes? There's something really weird here. I can't believe it. Not a word.

I'm not the only one who is shocked. The common room is completely still. All the girls who spent all that time preparing look murderous. Lily has a pleasantly surprised look on her face.

Potter is red in the face, something I'd never seen before from the boy has no shame. "I'd understand if you said no, but I just thought I'd ask. We've worked together a lot and it would be fun to." Lily looks at me, confused. I think she wants me to tell her whether she should say yes or no.

It isn't my decision to make. I can't stand him, I can't stand Black, I can't stand Lupin, and I especially hate that Slytherin who is in our common room right now. For the past six and a half years, I've made this all quite clear. But it is sweet that Potter asked her, and he did do it nicely.

I look at Potter; he seems really nervous. His face is really red now. Far out. He must like Lily. Lily herself seems excited. I think she does want to go with Potter.

Lily is still looking at me for advice. There's nothing else for it. I shrug at her and nod my head.

"Yes, I will," Lily says with a small smile.

Potter breathes a great sigh. "This is- this is...great." He seem a bit awkward standing there, so he goes off to join his friends who are all back in the common room after their dungbomb planting. He smiles at Lily, and he and his friends head off to their dormitory. Probably to figure out where would be a good place to plant another dungbomb.

The whole common room begins to react to what has happened. All the girls are really cross.

"Potter wants to go with Evans? I thought they hate each other!"

"She isn't even wearing makeup! She's not even nice to him. She doesn't deserve him at all."

"Lily's a prefect. She should know love potions are illegal. And if she doesn't, it's a miracle her snot-nosed friend didn't tell her."

"Let's go, Lily," I say. We are out of there as I hear someone say, "I wonder how much she is paying him."

We go into our dormitory. I sit on the bed. "That was strange."

"What do you mean?" Lily asks me.

"I never expected Potter to ask you to the dance." I tell her. "It was nice of him. Should I have said 'no?'" She looks at me strangely.

"DO you really want to go to dance with Potter?" I ask.

"I.well. actually- I do. James has been really nice to me. I like working with him. He likes working with me. It should be rather enjoyable." She notices the blank look on my face. "Oh come on, Ros, I do like him. I know you don't, but please.."

"It seems so strange. him asking you and all. Does he really care? Maybe he wants to make a fool of you or something heinous like that," I muse.

"I know you hate him, but James isn't that type of person. He likes to play jokes, but they're always from the Zonko's genre." Lily insists. "He never tries to hurt anyone or be mean. It's mischief, not malice"

"What about the time when Snape came up to breakfast wearing makeup and a hair bow because he doesn't look at himself in the morning during our fourth year? Everyone laughed at him, and he was badly humiliated. It was really cruel, and rather malicious. Who did that? It certainly wasn't Evan Rosier," I say.

"Maybe James didn't do it. Perhaps it was Black." Lily suggests.

"Oh, I don't KNOW! Just be careful, for my sake?" I fall onto my bed, and pound my fists into the pillow.

Lily gets up to storm out of the dormitory. She stops in the doorway, aware of what is downstairs. Face red, I grab my cloak and get up and go instead.

"Thanks," she calls after me.

* * *

The girls are still jeering in the common room. It's so immature, I think to myself. There's nothing for me to do, so I go to the library.

The Hogwarts Library is an immense place. It's got one of the best private magical book collections in the world. But the one thing Hogwarts is lacking is fiction. Good, solid magical fiction. Action-adventure novels, mysteries, historical books, humor, horror, and just plain yarns. Appropriate, really, considering that it is an academic library that contains volumes on the most complicated magical theories in the world. There is one small collection of books, started in the nineteenth century by a headmistress who liked that sort of thing. She wanted to have a huge collection, but she died a year after being elected headmistress, and the new headmistress didn't approve of spending library funds for books unrelated to studies. The library never bothered to withdraw them. There's only about one hundred, so I've read all the good ones, but I always check to see if there is an interesting one that I haven't read. There never is. A volume that I've seen a million times, but always glossed over, catches my eye. "Requited Love" is the title. I hate romance novels. They really are trash.

The headmistress who bought all the books handwrote a summary for each of them on a little parchment card placed inside the books. I take a peak at the summary.

"Devious Pollyanne Winston is madly in love with the dashing Gregor Uxbridge, but every bit of conversation they have had has been cold, and unromantic. She dreams of becoming closer to her love, but with every exchanged word, their relationship breaks further. Her family thinks Gregor is worthless, but to Pollyanne, he is nothing but the deepest desire of her heart. "Unbeknownst to Pollyanne, Gregor feels likewise. He admires her every sentiment, and she means more to him than the deepest magic. He has a reputation as a rogue, and he cannot find the words to express his emotions. "Both decide to brew up a powerful love potion, but neither realizes the potion does not work. Each thinking he or she has successfully wooed the other, they let all guard down until they realize both have been acting out of their own hearts, and destiny follows its due course. "An enchanting tale. Sure to please the young and the lovers. One of the Daily Prophet's top ten books for witches "

I go over to a table and begin reading. It's not as bad as I thought it would be. Trash novels, as disgusting as they are, apparently never fail to engross. While I am reading I pull my figure of Renée Flamboyer out of my pocket, and put her on the table to walk around. I got her at the Quidditch World Cup that took place years before I came to school. We don't usually waste our money on souvenirs, but my dad let me get a figure of the French seeker after I had promised that she wouldn't be sitting under my bed after owning her for a week. I didn't let her go for the week after she had caught the snitch and beat West Germany. Even now I still carry her around.

I have to have been there for an hour, reading, in the tables in the back. I begin to enjoy the book, and all my tense feelings seem to go away. Reading is one of the most useful emotion breakers, that's why I love it so much.

Unfortunately it doesn't work. I look up from my book to see Veronica Engerton staring at me.

"What do you want?" I ask her.

"I just came to tell you I think you are a bitch. I don't what HE sees in you. I'm going to make you miserable for what you did."

"WHAT?" "Don't play dumb. I don't know how you did it, but you STOLE him from me. If it wasn't for you, I'd still have my date," Veronica shrieks.

Wait a second. What did I do? Steal her date? Potter? But Potter's going with Lily, not me.

My God! Veronica thinks that I am the one who is going to the dance with Potter. For someone who's already part mental, that's impressive, not getting the right person. I begin to fasten my cloak. When I look down to latch the silver fastenings, I see that the badge on my chest isn't my own. Intead of a "P", it says "HG" on it. Head Girl. I have Lily's cloak. Veronica must have heard Potter asked the Head Girl, and saw my badge. Pretty moronic not to know whom the Head Girl is, even if someone else is wearing the badge.

I start laughing.

"So, you aren't sorry, are you? You are a bitch, I'm going to make you sorry. Starting now." She reaches for my minute Renée, who is looking up at Veronica, hands on hips.

I grab at Renée, but Veronica is too fast. "You can't do that!"

Madam Pince, the librarian, rushes over. "What is this nonsense?"

Veronica may be thick, but she is rather swift when it comes to being rotten. "I'm just taking back what she stole."

"That-I-Hey!" Veronica is gone. Madam Pince gives me a dirty look that makes my insides shudder. I spent seven years getting that woman to like me, and thanks to Engerton, it's all gone down the loo.

'I'd like to check this out," I say softly. Madam Pince rips the book from my hands and swoops over to her desk to sign out the book. She finishes, and pushes the book wordlessly to the corner of the desk, tutting about good-for-nothing girls, and good-for-nothing books.

I can't believe this.

* * *

I don't even sleep enough to call tonight's slumber a kip. I toss and turn enraged at everyone. Veronica for being mean, a moron, and herself; Potter, for breaking up with her, which made her mad at me, and Lily, because she's so happy. I peaked into her curtains when I came in, and she's got arms around one of her pillows, and this goofy grin on her face. I bet she was dreaming about him.

What kind of right does Veronica think she has to act like that? I do absolutely nothing to her, and she steals one of my favorite possessions, calls me the b-word that I can't stand, and ruins my standing with a teacher, who likes precious few students to begin with? It's all Potter's fault. He probably orchestrated it all, using Lily to make Veronica mad at me to get even for all the times I've turned him and all his friends into McGonagall for rule-breaking. It's just the sort of thing Potter would do. As pointless as his pranks are, they're DEEP. He and Black once got revenge on Snape for making snide remarks about their Slytherin friend's stupid haircut by making all of his hair fall out. It grew back in a day, and as mean as it was, Potter knows a thing or two about poetic justice.

I bet Potter doesn't even have feelings for Lily. Maybe he's just using her for charms answers. He's Head Boy, but he's really rich, and I bet his mum bribed Professor Dumbledore. No, that's not it. I bet he blackmailed him. I know the headmaster is above taking bribes. I bet he really doesn't have the highest grades of all the boys, and he just cheats to get decent marks. I'm going to do something tomorrow.

* * *

"Why would James ask me to Noël Night if he didn't like me?" Lily says at breakfast the next morning.

"I don't know. It just seems peculiar," I explain.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Ros, but it doesn't seem that way to me." She grabs her plate and goes to eat at another place at the Gryffindor table. Much to my dismay, that new place happens to be next to Potter. I realize that I haven't told her about Veronica, so she doesn't know why I'm so cross.