If You've Got the Nerve

The next few days were annoying to say the least. Everyone was talking about the selection of the champions; of the four champions. It was safe to say that every house except Gryffindor was upset about the selection of Harry Potter as the fourth champion. The Slytherin’s sneering remarks were an obvious aftermath, as was the anger that was emitted from every group of Hufflepuff students. But I don’t think anyone really predicted the hostility that all the Ravenclaws were shooting Harry. Of course, the Gryffindors were absolutely thrilled to learn that one of their own house members would be competing. They didn’t care one bit that harry refused to divulge how he had pulled it off. In fact, I think they liked that it was staying a secret. It added a higher air of excitement. Harry, I noticed, was in a particularly nasty mood about all of the cheering, questioning, and dirty looks. I couldn’t really blame him. The poor bloke had just been getting on level terms with everyone. Students had stopped gaping at his forehead every time he passed them and there were no more rushed, nervous greetings. Not unless you counted the Creevey brothers, but even that was becoming a normality. And now here he was, getting questions about everything fired at him again. It couldn’t exactly be lifting his spirits. So I resolved to speak to him when we were put in groups to practice our Transfiguration work.

I sat my books down in front of Harry and Hermione. Hermione looked up from the rat she was working with to give me a smile. “Hello, Nox.” I smiled back in greeting. Harry gave me a sullen look. He definitely wasn’t in a good mood. A particularly nasty group of Slytherins had been jeering at him the entire time he stood outside of the class waiting for the lesson to begin.

“Hi.”

One of my eyebrows lifted and I could feel a frown forming around my mouth. I stood my ground while we met eyes in a bored staring contest. The rat in my hands struggled a bit, so I decided it best to take my seat. I dragged one of the chairs around to the front of the desk so that I could face the two of them.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” I stated sarcastically. Harry made a hmph sound before going back to reading the instructions scrawled on the board. Hermione gave him a nervous glance before fussing over the stubborn rat on her table. I set my own rat down and stroked its head with a small smile. It squeaked pleasantly. I had always had a soft spot for animals.

Hermione had moved over slightly to fuss over Ron’s rat instead of her own. I glanced at Harry who didn’t seem effected by this action. The two friends must still not be on speaking terms. I took my chance.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” I demanded of him.

He looked up slowly, “Pardon?”

“What’s – up – with – you?” I asked slowly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he grumbled before moving his eyes back to his textbook. I bit my lip.

“Harry,” I sighed, “I know we don’t talk much and I’m definitely not one of your closest friends, but I’m still your friend. So do you want to talk to me about what’s bothering you or not?”

“Not.” He answered curtly.

“Well too bad,” I shot back. “Those Slytherins are always gits to you, so I know you’re not mad about that. I do know that you’ve now got most of three out of the four houses mad at you though. Not to mention…” I nodded my head to the red haired sitting three seats away. Harry followed my gesture then immediately snapped his eyes back to me. “Look, I don’t know how you put your name in, but you must have known – ”

“I didn't put my name in!” he hissed while slamming his book down on the desk. A few students glanced over at us curiously but went back to work after earning glares from both Harry and me. I moved my gaze back to the boy in front of me, but before I could speak, he was off again in an infuriated whisper.

“Why are you even talking to me about this stuff anyway? What are you up to? Spying for Fred and George – ?”

“Watch where you step, Potter.” I hissed at him, my eyes narrowed. I snapped my text closed, scaring the rat in front of me. “I’m no one’s spy. I was only asking because I’m concerned about you and how everything is affecting you, okay? I was asking as a friend.” I pushed back from the desk and moved to an abandoned table in the back to continue my class work.

He made no attempt at resolving the small fight through the rest of class. We all handed our rats back when the lesson was finished and gathered our things. I shoved my book in to my beat up bag and swung it over my shoulder. I was halfway down the hall on my way back to Gryffindor tower when another person fell easily in to step beside me.

“Something wrong?” My heart gave a leap at the familiar voice. Fred walked beside me, his hands shoved in his pockets and his long hair slightly disheveled.

“No,” I lied. He gave me an expectant look like he knew I wouldn't be able to lie to him for long. I ran a hand through my hair shortly. “It isn’t anything you need to worry about,”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he teased with a grin. I rolled my eyes.

“Where are you going?” I inquired.

“Wherever you’re going. You have break now, don’t you?” I nodded in response.

“Yes, I do. But you don’t.” I reminded him with one raised eyebrow.

He shrugged, “Moody won’t miss me. Besides, I don’t really feel I’ll enjoy the lesson he has planned,” I saw a slight shiver course his body and watched him curiously as we walked.

“The usual spot then?” he asked with a hint of a smile on his face. Part of me lit up and I tossed aside the suspicions of Moody’s class as his words registered. The light in my features seemed to urge him on. He grabbed my hand and was moving quickly down the twisting corridors then up the switching staircases.

“Fred! We haven’t been there since I was in second year! They’re probably using it by now.”

“Definitely not, I checked just an hour ago.” He checked? So he’d been planning this little excursion then? My smile widened.

We finally came to a stop outside of a beaten door on one of the higher levels of the school. The few doors that lined this particular corridor only led to old broom cupboards. Except this particular one. Fred needed a little effort to shove the protestant door open with his one free hand. The other one was still clutching mine. I glanced down at it nervously. He seemed to sense my stare, because his tight grip was gone in seconds.

By the appearance of the outside, you would expect to enter a bleary room no bigger than one of the closets that lined the outside walls. I had expected that my first time here too. It was my first year when I had found it with the same red-head that stood next to me now. I had found him as he was hiding behind a pillar on the second floor. By then, I had made acquaintances with him and his brother, but didn’t really speak to them other than meal times and the occasional late nights in the common room when we all set to work on procrastinated homework.

Naturally, I had gotten curious and snuck up to him to ask what he was doing. He’d been scared stiff at my sudden appearance. When he realized that it was just a curious eleven-year-old, he had roughly grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind the pillar with him. I’d almost let out a frantic scream before he’d covered my mouth. I was terrified until I realized that he was just hiding me form a patrolling Filtch. It was the only time I remembered relaxing when I saw the disgruntled man come round a corner. I wasn’t relaxed for long though. As soon as Filtch had passed by one of the many suits of armor, muttering darkly to himself, there had been a great explosion. The noise was only matched by Filtch’s furious screams and Fred’s laughter.

Fred had grabbed me again by the arm once Filtch had stumbled from the black smoke that had billowed out with the explosion and had us both running down the corridors with the caretaker hot on our heels.

“Come on! Run faster!” Fred had called with his grin still in place. I remembered it being one of the rare times his smile had matched that of the one he wore when talking about Quidditch.

“You filthy children!” Filtch continued to scream behind us.

It seemed impossible that Fred had managed not to get lost among the many corridors and stairs. But, finally, we had found refuge behind the same beat up door that we had just passed though moments ago.

The memory must have showed on my face, because by the time I came back to the present, Fred was watching me with a small smile as he sat on one of the long abandoned desks in the room. I returned his smile before sweeping my gaze around me.

The empty classroom was just as I remembered it. The desks were set in rows around the floor. There were extravagant cages both hanging on the walls and from the ceiling. All were empty, but there were still small signs of feathers in some of them. Small particles of dust danced in the sunlight that streamed in from the far wall. It looked almost entirely made of glass with all of the wall to wall windows that were covering it. If it weren’t for that wall, the whole room might have given off a creepy air.

We had long ago settled that it had been an old Transfiguration classroom because of all the cages and our guess had only been confirmed in my second year when we had finally explored the bookshelves fully to find many different Transfiguration books. I scanned those shelves now, taking in all of the titles. Some were in English, others in what looked like French or Latin.

“Look!” Fred suddenly jumped from his perch on the old desk. His footsteps echoed slightly as he strode over to stand beside me at the shelves. He flicked a piece of colored parchment shoved between Birds to Beans: Edible Treat or Deadly Disaster? and A Beginner’s Guide to Advanced Transformation. I smiled at the sight of the makeshift bookmark. It had a calligraphy N drawn neatly on it. My eyes scanned the shelves quickly and I pointed at another bit of parchment on a higher shelf. It was placed between two French titles. I pushed it slightly so that I could see the messy F scrawled on it. I grinned.

“You never were a fast reader,” I teased, glancing over at him.

He scoffed, “You skipped some,”

We had taken the wide selection of books to our advantage when we had discovered the room. Both of us had challenged the other that we could read all of the books first. At first, I had suggested we read only the English ones as neither of us spoke a second language fully enough to read an entire book of it. But Fred had insisted that we read even the non-translated ones, even if we gained zero information from it. (I sometimes wondered if he’d ever regretted that decision when I saw him pouring over a Latin version of a book one day in the common room with a very frustrated air.) The parchments had served as our markers for where we were at on the shelves.

I jumped when I felt his arm brush mine suddenly and his hand being place gently on the small of my back. I hadn’t heard him move. “We should keep going,” he suggested in almost a whisper. I felt a chill run down my back and tried to ignore it.

“I don’t know…” for some reason, it just didn’t feel like it would be the same. We’d stopped goofing around in here during class for a long time now. Our shouts across the common room asking about progress as we both read rapidly had ceased for a long time. I didn’t think it would be so easy to slip in to such a care free routine again.

“Aw, come on, Nox.” He carelessly threw his arms around my shoulders, placing his head on my shoulder. “Pleeeease?” he whined, his breath hitting my neck in a warm puff. I let out a quick gasp at the feeling, afterwards hoping he wrote it off as an action of surprise. The bell shrieked loudly signaling the end of the period, but neither of us moved. After several heart pounding moments I gave him a shaky agreement. He cheered, his hand reaching for the French book to the right of his marker. He moved to exit the room before seeming to second guess himself and rushing back.

My hand was resting on the dusty spine of A Beginner’s Guide to Advanced Transformation when I felt his lips press softly against my cheek.

“I’m going to win,” he whispered before leaving.

I heard the door slam closed and his running footsteps outside. I stared unseeing at the bookshelves for a minute before the late bell shocked me out of my state. I quickly pulled the book out, ignoring my bit of parchment that fluttered to the ground as I bounded out the door.

He was nowhere in sight, but I still shouted down the hall after him, “You will not, Fred Weasley!”