Sore Loser

Swimming in Questions

  Soon enough, or too soon it seems, you are back in your Ravenclaw common room, happy as you think of who could have sent you that butterbeer. It was hours ago, and yet it still seems impossible to get it out of your mind. The first is crackling, and the accented blue walls and floors contain dancing shadows. It's two-thirty, and yet you feel like it's late at night.

You hear footsteps behind you and hear them go up the girls' dorms stairs. You would know those foot steps anywhere. Cho's. That's one of the things you tend to learn after being someone's best friends. The weight and squeak of their shoes adds to the other sounds you can recognize them by, like the sound of their voice. Why did she take Marietta's side? That's just one of the questions eating away at your brain.

Why is Marietta so upset? Did she sabatoge your potion? Why did your best friend side with her? Does Fred like you? What is Katie hiding from you? Who is your 'secret admirer'? Why is Roger Davies such an arse? Why is your life taking a sudden turn in this one week? Will you ever know the answer to these questions?

Suddenly, your happy mood changes to one of tire, annoyed with all of these mysteries surrounding your day.

"What's on your mind, (Y/N/N?)" You hear a voice as you feel someone sit down next to you. You know immediately who it is.

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? I'm your friend, right?" He is greeted by silence. "C'mon, (Y/N), how are you not over that game yet? That was a week ago!" He sighs.

"Roger, you haven't made up for it yet." You sigh. You scoot away and he does the same, but toward you instead.

"I think I already have." You raise an eyebrow, doubting it. "'Quidditch is fast, and dragons are too.'" He recites, and you snap your head toward him. "I wrote that, love." He says, wrapping his arm around you.

"Are you kidding me?" You said, feeling happiness creep into your voice.

"From what I remember of our bet the other day, I get a date. Tomorrow then?" Roger says, smirking. You barely have realized that he has slipped his arm around your shoulders. You hardly remember such a deal, but it does sound familiar.

"Fine. I will, but don't expect anything more." You warn, getting up so that the weight on your shoulder drops. He has a triumphant smirk on his face, much like one of a boy you would like to see.

You leave like that, out into the corridor before he can say another word. You have a flare for dramatic exits, and you saunter down the hall to go where a group of portraits are. As a Ravenclaw, you aren't supposed to know where the common rooms of other houses are, but it's hard to not notice the bold, red-wearing, Gryffindor students near this area. You scan through the hall around here and feel a bit disappointed that you don't see a single red-haired person around.

If you are being truly honest with yourself, you know that you want to see Fred's (or possibly George's) reaction to your date tomorrow. However, that isn't going to happen if you can't find him. All you want to do is see him, right now.

"(Y/N)!" Nearly identical voices greet from behind and you grin. Speak of the devil, it's just like magic. "Hey, how are you doing, have you felt tipsy at all?" Fred jokes. You wobble around and cross your eyes.

"The bloody hell are you talking about?" You slur, and stumble into George, who holds your arm. You break from the act and the three of you chuckle. "Yeah, so drunk that I accepted Roger Davies proposal." How else were you going to fit that in the conversation?

The reaction from the twins is immediate. They stop talking and share eye contact for a second before smirking. You never do understand how they do that. You shriek as George grabs your other arm and lifts you up, while Fred takes your feet. A shriek escapes your lips.