Jelsa In Hogwarts

11

Astrid's POV

"...Merida," Hiccup finishes.I can see it. Bliss and joy from Quidditch tryouts falling in the dust. Merida looks at me and I look at her.

"Cool," I say. My bangs fall over both eyes to hide how I feel right now. "It's your choice Hiccup, and I can respect that." Underneath lots of layers my voice has spite and bitterness. And I can't control that. Hiccup stands still, arms dangling.

"You sure? Because I can uh-" I punch him lightly on the arm.

"It's fine. I'll see you later," I turn to leave and I push down a wall of disappointment. Life goes on and there's nothing I can do about it.

"Hey Astrid!" Merida runs up to me.

I mask my face over with my usual expression. "Yeah?"

Merida looks like she's about to say something then she stops. "Sorry. I thought-"

"No," I cut her off. "He's always liked you two times better than me.* It's fine." I stalk off and walk to the Quidditch pitch. Breathe in, out. I won't cry. Especially because of a boy. My feet take me to the center of the field. I stretch my arms out either side at me.

"It's fine," I tell myself before I lie on the grass arms still out. The smell of grass reaches me and I close my eyes, listening to the sound of tiny bugs hiding in the grass. I don't know how long I'm there, but I open my eyes when I hear the footsteps. Her hands pull me up. For once she isn't wearing gloves, her skin's not as cold as I thought.

"Hiccup told me," Her hairs out and there's a robe hastily thrown over her dressing gown.

"Sorry, I just needed some time alone," I brush myself off. "You know what I mean?" Elsa nods, her blue eyes serious. Then she tries to lighten me up.

"So when you deal with feeling you lie in grass?" She asks.

"Not that helpful," I respond and put my hands in my pockets. "What do you recommend?" Elsa smiles and winks at me. Then she starts; and she must be crazy. No music or anything. But I might be crazy too for loving this.

Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I'm not that girl

Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl

Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in

Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who's winsome, she wins him
Red hair with wild curls
That's the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I'm not that girl

Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl
There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'm not that girl...

I repeat the last chorus.

Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl
There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'm not that girl...

Elsa's voice is good, better than mine. It sends me off on a journey. Then she notices that she isn't wearing gloves. Her eyes widen before she shoves her hands in her robe pockets.

"What's the secret?" I ask.

"What?"

"You just shoved your hands in your pockets so fast I thoug-"