Chaotic Forbiddance

STILL FATE’S P.O.V.

“Harry, Harry!” I chased after the jet-haired boy in vehemence, as he continued to ignore my noticeably fervent pleas. I eventually caught up with the franticly speedy seeker and tried to reason with his determined and indifferent ideals. “How’s Mikey?”

“He knows that you’re in love with him, he also is still crying in bed, but only because he threw up and is sick from some potions stuff from this morning. He’s okay with your relationship thing.” He said, not even looking at me, just walking swiftly to our Friday Herbology class, we exited the front doors and made our way into the fresh air of the Hogwarts grounds.

“Since when have we been in love? And are you okay with it?” I asked, worried about my old friend’s feelings on the matter.

“Since Dumbledore thinks that you’re in love… and I’m not okay with it, but I miss having a friend to confide in, like you, so I’ll tolerate it, barely.” He said, shrugging his backpack further onto his shoulder and obviously avoiding eye contact with me, I sighed and decided to let him know the ‘good’ news, though I found it to be more bittersweet and painful.

“Well, then I guess it’ll please you to know that we’re not seeing each other romantically until we know that it’s real.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his head oddly, I had thought that he would be happy?

“I saw the way you looked at each other, it’s love, and I might not like it, but it gives me hope. For myself.” He heaved a sigh and looked down at his feet, obviously regretting what he just stated. Harry tried to walk a little faster and evade me, but I was too tricky for him, I knew what he would do. I hastened my pace in time with him.

“Do you have your eyes on anyone special?” I asked; curiosity aroused. He turned every which way, to see if anyone was following, Hermione was talking to Neville at least thirty feet behind us, but, other than that, we were entirely alone. They weren’t in earshot, anyways. I awaited his response eagerly.

“I don’t know, but I think that I might like… Mikey.” He said with great reluctance. I gasped and hugged him with enthusiasm, making the stolid boy smile and blush a bright fuchsia color.

“We nearly kissed yesterday too, so I think he likes me back, maybe, probably not…” Harry rambled hesitantly, making gesticulations with his frantic hands, halting when we reached the Greenhouse door. We entered boldly and unwittingly, only for our senses to be assaulted by the acetous and painful stench of bobetubers, more pus for us, joy.

The entire class wasn’t a waste of time, though; I got to talk a lot further with the shy Hufflepuff Bob, or Bobert, as I have now decided to call him. He was apparently a great drummer, it was too bad that he wasn’t in History Of Magic with us, we could start a band… I laughed at my own folly. I would never be good enough to be in a band.

Or skinny enough…

Oh, shit, not again, no!

GERARD’S P.O.V.

I was just writing the lesson plan on the board when Fate walked in, brow furrowed deeply and a worried look making every part of her seem to tremble with some sort of internal agony.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, severely concerned, even though I was no longer supposed to be concerned in the other way…

“It’s just a thing, not an us thing, just a… me thing.”

“I see, I’m still here if you need to talk, but you’ve also got a really good group of friends, a lot of people don’t have that. You’ll get through it, whatever it is.”

“A lot of other people don’t have evil as balls Death Eaters for parents, I bet.” Draco Malfoy walked in the room when she said Death Eaters; he acted as if he was going to squirm at the words, oddly enough.

“I bet. But what’s so wrong about balls?” I asked with my characterized smirk, she laughed and took a seat, while Frankie walked in, followed by the others… but not Mikey.

“Frank, where’s Mikey?” I asked, he shrugged, and Harry responded in his place.

“Snape forced Mikey’s own potion down Mike’s throat, he’s not dead or anything, just a bit sick, is all. He actually brewed it well though, so Snape was trying to make him sick. He’s not angry at you, if that’s what you were thinking.” I forced a tight smile at his contempt-filled last comment, though anger boiled up on the inside at the fellow professor’s actions.

“It’s Professor Snape, though I doubt he deserves that courtesy right about now. Hermione, do you mind teaching the class for a minute?” she nodded, eagerly, “Yes, if anyone challenges your authority, you can assign detentions, but I’d rather not spend any time with annoying prats, if you don’t mind ruling them off your list.” I left the room, handing her the lesson plan, and setting a course for the dungeons…

He’s not getting away with this.

I walked feverishly to the dank and dark dungeons, then to Snape’s classroom, specifically. I walked in the already open door, to find someone drinking their own potion in front of the perpetrator himself. “Stop drinking that.” I ordered the boy, Colin Creevey, I think, he followed my wish immediately.

“This isn’t your classroom, you have no authority here.” Said Severus pointedly, I scoffed at his lack of manners and his discourteousness.

“And it isn’t your right to make people drink their own potions and miss other classes.” I said heatedly. He gave me the classic glare, but I wasn’t afraid of it anymore, he was just another teacher, and we were now equals. Though definitely not equal morally, I’m pretty sure I have the high ground there.

“Actually, I think it is, if they didn’t brew their potion properly then they should have to suffer for it.”

“Yes, but Mikey brewed his potion properly, and you were out of line. Now he’s missed two classes and is still sick, apparently in the infirmary, which means that Madam Pomfrey, being a good friend of my mother, will send her an owl, saying that Mikey was sick… which also means that you will not only be in deep crap from me, but from my mother, who is probably far more formidable than anyone you’ll ever meet. So I’d seriously reconsider making anyone else drink their own potion.” He glared at me with such a narrow eyed look that I thought my head would burst from looking at it...

“You must be a Mama’s boy.” Said an annoying first year Slytherin, I smiled, “And proud of it.” I said, strutting back to my classroom (thank goodness no one was in the hallways to see)

“Thanks for taking over. You can go back to your seat, Ms. Granger.” I said, but Hermione was staring blankly at the board, backing away, while something was being written on it… but no one was even near the chalk board.