𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿, james potter

˗ˋ 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH SHE SLIPS
UNDER THE RADAR

. . .

With Rosie's success in ensuring that James got enough food to ensure he didn't pass out if a Bludger hit him that bit too hard, she joined the group in making their way down to the Quidditch Pitch, the wooden structure now covered in miles of fabric patterned in the crest of each house in their respective colours.

It became apparent that it might have been within their best interests to keep Rosie a little more hidden during breakfast - because really, despite the amount of students, the group of boys sat around the centre of Gryffindor table (one of which being the Quidditch captain, thus drawing far more attention than anyone else), attracted far too many eyes to them at all time.

They definitely should have been more careful. Because the beady eyes of Professor McGonagall were always watching. Whenever she was around, it was hard to pull the veil over any prank or idea that the boys had. She almost always knew what was happening, and when something had happened, she always knew who had done it. 

They made their way out of the Great Hall with no problem, James fiddling anxiously with the strap of his gloves around his hands, Rosie and Sirius chatting up a storm on the topic of Muggle cigarettes and Peter trying to convince her to say more on the Quidditch league  she played in.

Remus hung back a little, walked alongside James and struck up a conversation about his Quidditch team, all in the hopes of calming his nerves further by making him realise how good of a team he had put together.

But that came to a stop when Sirius held his arm out, almost decapitating Rosie and bringing the entire group to a stop, hurrying them around a corner without worrying himself with the bother of explaining why.

"What the hell Padfoot?" James hissed, knowing from the glimmer of a curiously amused expression that flickered over Rosie's face that he would be getting a lot of questions about it later - and if she found out about his particular nickname, the questions would turn to playful mocking in a very short period of time. 

"McGonagall's on the prowl." Sirius replied, looking somewhat proud that he had noticed it. However, instead of praise, all he recieved was blank stares. "Think about it. The main exit out to the Quidditch pitch from the Great Hall and she's stood next to it. Usually she's already in the Commentator Box so she can avoid the crowds."

"So you mean she's figured something's off?" Remus looked concerned as he peered around the corner, Rosie following his actions and seeing a woman with a stern gaze surveying the students that passed by carefully, hair pulled up into a tight bun and her robes a red so dark it was almost black, a felt tartan shawl of red and yellow around her shoulders with a matching bonnet-type hat, before the blonde was ultimately pulled back by James.

"You lot are all serious about this house pride thing." She commented, rearranging the scarf around her neck; she had noticed James staring at it only momentarily, meaning that the hickey he had given her was very much visible. 

"Very. How are we going to get Rosie around her?" James frowned. "We could always go back and find some other way down to the pitch, but that would take way too much time."

They were silent for a moment, thoughts somehow louder than the chatter of excited students in the corridor besides them.

Seconds later and Rosie perked up. "Easy." She barely even hesitated at their incredulous expressions. "Tell me something about her. Quickly now, chop chop."

"She's Scottish."

"No shit Pete, really? Hey-" Sirius winced, rubbing his forearm where Remus had landed a quick, yet purposeful punch.

"She's an Animagus?" Remus gave the next answer. "Uh, teaches Transfiguration."

Rosie's eyes widened. "Has she given any homework recently?" She asked, waiting for an answer from James, who nodded.

"Yeah, on non-verbal spells and certain effects. Due for.. Thursday."

"Perfect. I'll wait a little bit down the path."

Rosie stepped out from the corner without hesitation, slipping in behind a group of girls dressed in red and yellow, making sure to walk a few paces behind. It was obvious really, she would stand out with the boys she came with, all of which would be watching the particular interaction with devout interest.

She had almost passed the teacher before coming to a stop, deciding to have just a little fun with it. "Morning Professor - ready for the match?" Rosie asked, blue eyes bright. "If anyone can beat Slytherin it's James right?"

McGonagall's eyes slipped from the crowd to the girl in front of her. "Potter does have quite the aptitude for Quidditch. And a competitive streak." She added as an afterthought, eyes narrowing just slightly behind her crescent-shaped spectacles. "Anything I can help you with?"

"I was just wondering, Professor - well, checking really. You know me, so scatter-brained sometimes." Rosie chuckled at her own misfortune, hands waving around in light gestures. "The homework on non-verbal spells, it's due for Thursday, right?"

"That is correct."

"Oh thank you so much. Potter was trying to tell me it was Tuesday and wouldn't give over on it." Rosie flashed a smile as she began to walk forward again. "Like you said - competitive streak!"

It had been quite the risk. Clearly the teacher had noticed something was up, but yet when presented with the difference, it slipped right under her nose.

It was just lucky that Rosie had quite the practise at hiding in plain sight.

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