I Smile
I Smile
Fred Weasley was practically skipping down the halls of Hogwarts. He twirled a lily between his thumb and forefinger, humming one of Peeve’s latest jesting songs on his way to Gryffindor Tower where his girlfriend- his lovely, intelligent, beautiful bombshell of a girlfriend- would get a surprise date for their 278th day anniversary. Random and silly- just like Fred.
“Snickety Sugarsnaps.” He sang to the Fat Lady with a gigantic bow. The painted woman giggled a little and there up her frame, letting Fred enter the warm, cozy Common Room, occupied at this hour by just one other soul. There she was. Pixie Oppell.
And she was not happy.
In fact, she looked quite the opposite of happy.
She looked downright upset.
“Pixie!” Fred exclaimed as he plopped himself down next to her on the old, wooden bench by the frosty window. “What’s the matter?”
Pixie grumpily picked up a book and handed it to Fred, who nodded knowingly.
“Ahh. A book. You know, those things make me angry too, but for very different reasons.”
“The ending was dreadful!” She stood up and threw her hands on her hips. Her posh accent always mismatched her attitude when she got in a huff like this. “Just dreadful!” This was a familiar feeling to her, but one that she despised from the moment it arrived to the moment it left. A book with a terrible ending was like a joke with no punchline to Fred.
“I think your problem is that you love to read stories, but hate to read endings.” Fred pondered.
Pixie ignored him and continued her rant. “It is a book! A fictional piece of literature! So, it should end the way I want it too, logically. I mean, honestly!”
Fred looked on with a mixture of wonder and exasperation. He loved Pixie’s brainy personality and her love of all things novelesque, but he hated seeing her get up in a tizzy.
“I wish I understood that head of yours just a little more,” he shook his head.
Pixie sat down again, and looked at Fred steely with her bright blue eyes. “Picture it this way,” she began to explain. “You’re reading along and the entire time the book seems to be leading somewhere, like a hallway, and you expect it to take you somewhere specific- up until those last few pages when everything changes.”
She spoke with her hands so vividly she almost smacked Fred square in the nose. “And then that is it! You flip that last page expecting a resolution, and find an advertisement for a different book, and a brief biography on the author or some other rubbish! Now you’re stuck with it. You’re clinging to that last page, willing it to force another two or three to pop up behind it. But, to no surprise, nothing magically appears. The book is over. Everything you had thought was right had been proven wrong, and here you are to live with it. It’s... it’s... Deceitful!”
“There, there, doll,” Fred said, putting an arm around her shoulder and rubbing it consolingly. “I think all you need is a bit of fun to perk you up. Come on!”
“Come on where?” She asked, scrunching up her tiny, feminine nose.
“It’s a surprise! For our 278th day anniversary!” Fred exclaimed, before adding with a wink, “don’t tell me you forgot.”
The tension left Pixie’s shoulders with a sigh. Her redheaded suitor wiggled his eyebrows. “Thanks, love,” her poshness shined again. “I guess I can be rather silly sometimes.”
“Well, I CERTAINLY don’t know what that’s like,” Fred replied sarcastically.
“Truly,” Pixie laughed. “No matter how bad a mood you find me in, every time I see you I smile.”
“Snickety Sugarsnaps.” He sang to the Fat Lady with a gigantic bow. The painted woman giggled a little and there up her frame, letting Fred enter the warm, cozy Common Room, occupied at this hour by just one other soul. There she was. Pixie Oppell.
And she was not happy.
In fact, she looked quite the opposite of happy.
She looked downright upset.
“Pixie!” Fred exclaimed as he plopped himself down next to her on the old, wooden bench by the frosty window. “What’s the matter?”
Pixie grumpily picked up a book and handed it to Fred, who nodded knowingly.
“Ahh. A book. You know, those things make me angry too, but for very different reasons.”
“The ending was dreadful!” She stood up and threw her hands on her hips. Her posh accent always mismatched her attitude when she got in a huff like this. “Just dreadful!” This was a familiar feeling to her, but one that she despised from the moment it arrived to the moment it left. A book with a terrible ending was like a joke with no punchline to Fred.
“I think your problem is that you love to read stories, but hate to read endings.” Fred pondered.
Pixie ignored him and continued her rant. “It is a book! A fictional piece of literature! So, it should end the way I want it too, logically. I mean, honestly!”
Fred looked on with a mixture of wonder and exasperation. He loved Pixie’s brainy personality and her love of all things novelesque, but he hated seeing her get up in a tizzy.
“I wish I understood that head of yours just a little more,” he shook his head.
Pixie sat down again, and looked at Fred steely with her bright blue eyes. “Picture it this way,” she began to explain. “You’re reading along and the entire time the book seems to be leading somewhere, like a hallway, and you expect it to take you somewhere specific- up until those last few pages when everything changes.”
She spoke with her hands so vividly she almost smacked Fred square in the nose. “And then that is it! You flip that last page expecting a resolution, and find an advertisement for a different book, and a brief biography on the author or some other rubbish! Now you’re stuck with it. You’re clinging to that last page, willing it to force another two or three to pop up behind it. But, to no surprise, nothing magically appears. The book is over. Everything you had thought was right had been proven wrong, and here you are to live with it. It’s... it’s... Deceitful!”
“There, there, doll,” Fred said, putting an arm around her shoulder and rubbing it consolingly. “I think all you need is a bit of fun to perk you up. Come on!”
“Come on where?” She asked, scrunching up her tiny, feminine nose.
“It’s a surprise! For our 278th day anniversary!” Fred exclaimed, before adding with a wink, “don’t tell me you forgot.”
The tension left Pixie’s shoulders with a sigh. Her redheaded suitor wiggled his eyebrows. “Thanks, love,” her poshness shined again. “I guess I can be rather silly sometimes.”
“Well, I CERTAINLY don’t know what that’s like,” Fred replied sarcastically.
“Truly,” Pixie laughed. “No matter how bad a mood you find me in, every time I see you I smile.”