Untouchable: a Fred Weasley fanfiction

Progress

It's Monday, and after a fairly lazy weekend after the whole Halloween Dance chaos on Friday, I'm back in class.

After Defense ends, I'm slipping my notebook back into my bookbag while the rest of the class is filing out of the room when I notice the casette tape stuffed into the front pocket. I grab it and swing my bag over my shoulder, standing up to head to Lupin's desk.

"Hey, Professor," I say.

He turns from cleaning the chalkboard and smiles. "Everything alright, Jo?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," I reply, then extend the Rick Springfield tape to him. "I just wanted to return this and nearly forgot."

He looks down and chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets instead. "Keep it."

"What?"

"Keep it," he repeats, nodding to the tape. "I want you to. Build your music collection. One can never have enough."

I look at the tape, then him, and smile appreciatively. "Wow- thanks!"

"I think I should be thanking you," he replies. "You and the rest of the Forgivable Curses have really amped up the reputation of the new music center."

"Really?"

"Well, my name's on the plate..." he explains, "...so I've had about three students come up to me today asking if it's open to anyone, and not just the all-star musicians who rocked the stage on Friday..."

I laugh, surprised. "Holy shit."

My eyes immediately go wide at myself and I slap a hand over my mouth.

He grins. "Language, Jolie."

"Sorry," I say quickly. "That's mad! I can't believe it."

"I can," he shrugs. "You really did do brilliantly, Jo. I cannot tell you enough."

"Well, it wasn't just me-"

"No, no," he interrupts, shaking a finger. "None of that. Accept the compliment. Accept that you are very good."

I look away, awkwardly laughing. "Thanks, sir."

"So, other than being the new hit drummer of the school..." he says, "have you been settling in well? I mean, it is November already, but I thought I'd ask."

"I think so," I shrug. "I've got good friends. The band helped a lot. I feel like now, there are even more eyes on me, though."

"In a good way?"

"I'm not sure," I say, thinking. "I think that some are good, some are... you know. But I think all of them are looks of- uncertainty."

"Uncertainty?" he says. "Tell me more."

I look up, hitching my bag higher on my shoulder.

"I mean," I go on, "I think that I've just thrown people off. I came for the last year, I don't really act, or... look... like a lot of the kids around... and now, I performed in front of everyone... which is great, of course, it was really fun, but..."

I take a breath-

"It's a lot of eyes."

He takes a moment, then nods.

"I understand," he says. "Really. I do."

I nod, looking away again and fiddling with a nail.

"But just for the record..." he says.

I feel him nudge my arm to get me to look up at him. He's smiling.

"I think you're the coolest thing to come around here," he says.