So This is Love
As I turn the corner I crash right into a chest.
The chest that belongs to the same guy I've loved since I was eleven and had gone to class one morning with my pink underwear sticking out of my robe pocket. His friends had laughed at it, as did he, but he was the only one nice enough to come tell me.
I had nearly died from embarrassment.
The next day James had gotten the worst Howler of his life and I blushed whenever a certain grey-eyed Slytherin looked my way.
My books go flying and the stack of parchments he held fell onto the ground. As I lift my embarrassed eyes towards him, my face flushes scarlet and I wish the earth would open up and swallow me whole. Or it can just make myself invisible to the rest of the world. Maybe I can just redo those last two minutes of my life? I wonder if there's a spell for that?
I then realize the drink I was holding was currently wedged in between us and I watch in horror as the red juice slipped all over his crisp white dress shirt. The result? A red-spotted white shirt.
"Shite." he swore.
"Oh, no," I whimpered. "Ahhh..I'm so sorry Scorpius."
His grey eyes flashed at me and he growled angrily, "Merlin's sake Rose. Of all the days to pull one of your little stunts, do you have to do it today? And when I'm wearing a shirt? And a new one at that?"
I cringe. We both knew my stunts were not done on purpose but were more of my uh...clumsier moments. I seem to have a lot of them. Like the time when I tripped over my feet, my own feet mind you, and bumped into Daniel Stager's chair and made him spill the potion he had spent the last two weeks working on. Or how I always managed to get caught in the trap staircase no matter how many times I made a mental note of it? The worst was last year when I came barreling down the corridor, tripped over a bag someone left out, toppled into Scorpius, causing him to lose balance and plow straight into one of the knight statues. Luckily he was okay but my confidence around him had taken as bad a blow as that statue had.
"Here let me help." I pull my wand out and attempt to mutter a spell but I must have been shaking too much because instead of shrinking the stain, it enlarged it.
"Damn." He swore again causing tears to well up in my eyes. Not even bothering to grab my things I turn, and run back down the hall.
I glance down at my shirt with a sigh.
She's the one that manages to drop any food she's holding all over herself and usually the person next to her. She's the one who tries to sneak quietly out of the classroom to use the loo but somehow manages to trip over something, anything, drawing the entire rooms attention. She's the one who usually has a book in her face most of the time when she's bumping into walls, trees, people, furniture.
She's the one that made me wonder for weeks on end if all her underwear were pink. She's the one with those long legs I can't stop myself from fantasizing about. Ironically, she's the one that made me realize that girls are indeed, quite different from boys. And she's the one that got stains on my shirt five minutes before my big meeting with the Ministry about a possible job opportunity after graduation in June.
I mutter a spell that makes my stain disappear and crouch down to pick up my parchments when I notice her books lying there.
She's probably crying in the girls bathroom on the second floor. That's where she usually goes. I sigh when I think about the time difference between the second floor and the meeting room right down the hall. But I think about her bright brown eyes welling up with tears and then I'm remembering how her body had felt slamming right into mine.
I keep on running and I manage to barricade myself into the girls bathroom. I open up one of the stall doors and let it creak close as I slid down to the ground, my back against the dusty door. Feeling the moisture on my cheek I wipe it away. Why do I always have to be clumsy in front of him? I had been practicing for the last two years after the rest of my body had caught up to my legs and feet and I had been doing a lot better lately. Why, I had even stopped tripping over my feet. But then I run into him and suddenly I feel as if I'm eleven all over again, not knowing what to say or how to act.
I bang my head against the wall as a lone teardrop hovers from my eyelash and falls, trailing a wet path down my cheek. I hate feeling embarrassed like this. Not for the first time did I wish I were as savvy as those hordes of girls that constantly surround him.
I hold her books in my hand as I stand outside the door. Not sure of what to do I knock softly.
I listen but I cannot hear anything. I knock again but still no answer. I stand there as a pair of second year girls pass me, giggling from the sight of a seventh year standing outside the girls bathroom. I'm tempted to leave but then I think of how Rose must feel and I knock again.
Still nothing. Sighing I set her books down on the floor knowing she will see them, or at least trip over them, on her way out. I turn and start walking down the hall when inspiration hits. Jogging back to the door, I pull a piece of parchment from my pocket and start scribbling.
I sit up, certain I just heard someone say my name. I rise to my feet and unlocked the stall door but no one is in the room. I walk over to the sink, splashed cold water on my face and look in the mirror. At least no one can tell I've been crying, my red face blends in with my hair and freckles. I walk towards the door and pull it open, almost tripping over a pile of books on the floor. My books. I bent down to pick them up and see a piece of parchment sticking out of the leaflet. Pulling it out I open it, instantly recognizing the scrawling handwriting.
Just remember, my year could never be complete without you running into me at least once.
I smile softly to myself and gently bring the note up to my lips. So this is love.