Trying to Find the Right Words

[Miss Red]

Pippa/Jamie.

She ran a few of her fingers over the tan skin of her arm, tracing circles and connecting the freckles that could almost form the big dipper if one really looked at it. Sometimes she wondered if freckled people did that; if they saw constellations in their freckles. A whole new map of stars, right on their skin.

A light breeze caught the stray brown hairs alongside her face, making the strands bounce and dance as 15-year-old Pippa Broscue leaned out one of the stone windows outside of the Arithmancy classroom. They could not really be called windows; there was no glass, merely holes in a stone hallway outisde that allowed sunlight to leak through. Windows were probably the closest thing, Pippa thought mildly, examining her manicured fingernails, painted clear.

Pippa shifted her forearms after they began to grow sore from supporting her against the stone ledge, also transferring the lower half of her weight to the opposite leg. Absentmindedly, she rose a hand to stroke the long side ponytail that draped over her right shoulder, spilling down to just below her chest. She glanced sideways at the door again, wondering what time it was.

She'd been waiting about 10 minutes, having skipped Herbology and hanging around for a while before deciding to come here. Just a week or so before now, Pippa probably hadn't even known his name; and now here she stood, waiting for him to appear.

Jamie had been right about her, she'd realized. Pippa Broscue, being obviously well-liked and otherwise conceited, rarely stopped to consider how she treated people. Naturally, she was never flat-out mean to someone, but Jamie had made her consider that maybe she was indirectly snotty. Pippa Broscue could handle criticism; but Jamie had struck a nerve.

So here she was; a week later, hanging out in front of his classroom for this hour, trying to find a way to apologize. She'd decided to make a vow to herself to be conscious of how she acted around people; she'd show Jamie Hunter that she wasn't just a pretty, self-absorbed brat. And God forbid she didn't inherit her father's pride and determination.

Pippa Broscue was proud. She was confident.

She'd think of something to say.

[Tessie]

"Mr Hunter?"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, penetrating the haze that had clouded the Gryffindor's mind for nearly an hour now. He blinked, large dark eyes clearing as they took in the Arithmancy classroom and his Professor looming over him, a disapproving look on his face.

"Were we day-dreaming, Mr Hunter?" asked the teacher severely, raising one eyebrow slightly.

We may not have been, but I sure as hell was, Jamie thought back in annoyance but he bit his tongue. He shook his head slightly and transferred his gaze downwards in a parody of remorse. "Sorry, Professor. Won't happen again."

Satisfied, the Professor turned away and began dictating notes again. Jamie stared listlessly at the blank parchment in front of him. What was the point of this lesson? What was the point of anything at the moment? It had been a week since the Valentine Disaster, as he knew his friends were now referring to it as, and ever since a lot of things were starting to seem futile to Jamie. Lessons, for one. Homework, too. Even his friends weren't able to coax him out of his bleak mood. Instead, he spent most of his days lying on his bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling, and thinking about how much better life had been when he was invisible.

Just as he was about to sink back into the refuge of his own mind, what he thought was a small cream-coloured bird flitted onto the desk before him. On closer inspection he realised it was an animated piece of parchment and, discreetly scanning the room, he spotted Kestrel looking over at him expectantly. She met his gaze and mouthed 'open it' across the classroom. Slipping the now inanimate scrap under the desk, he unfolded it and saw written in Kes' scruffy hand, the words: 'Forget about her. She's not worth it. Keep your chin up. Love, Kes xx.'

There was no question in Jamie's mind about who the 'her' referred to was. After all, he'd been in love with Pippa for nearly three years now, admiring her from afar, studying her every movement, talking about her nearly none stop. Not that she'd ever openly returned his affections or, in fact, even really noticed his existence. Until last week, when he'd done possibly the most stupid thing in his entire life at the Valentine's Day ball by insulting her and confessing his love in the same breath.

The bell rang, and Jamie joined in the general bustle of putting away parchments and textbooks but before he could make a break for it the Professor caught his eye. "A word, Mr Hunter?"

For the next few minutes he was subject to a very thorough and well though out lecture that his teacher had probably been practicing for weeks, all about responsibility and the importance of class and how he must pull his socks up if he was going to be prepared for his OWLs at the end of the year. Jamie just nodded, occasionally adding in a, "Yes sir," or, "No sir," for good measure. Eventually he was released and, already likely to be late for his next class but not caring enough to actually run, he left the classroom and was shocked to see who stood waiting for him there.

He paused for a moment, dumbfounded, then realised it was almost certainly a coincidence that she was here and carried on walking in the hope that he could make a break for it before she recognised him. He really didn't feel like dealing with anything like this right now.

[Miss Red]

Pippa was so lost in thought for the time being, she hadn't even heard the door of the Arithmancy classroom opening to allow students to exit.

She pulled herself back quickly, jerking her head to look at the students that had already passed her, trying to identify each of them to make sure they were not Jamie. Honestly, she was such a twat. How could she miss him? Had she skipped class for nothing?

After the students had stopped flowing by and she still hadn't seen Jamie, Pippa sighed. Well, this was fantastic. She found herself ready to grumble that she'd skipped class for nothing after all, but after a moment's thought remembered she didn't really care anyway. She grinned to herself.

A part of her felt relieved that she could put it off longer. Pippa was always comfortable in her own skin, no matter the situation, so you can imagine what a change it was for her to feel unsure.

The click of a closing door made her turn around sharply, startled, to meet the eyes of the person she'd been looking for.

Pippa's hands immediately jumped to the ponytail draped over her right shoulder, tugging and stroking the mahogany hairs absentmindedly.

"Hi," she said wearily, a small, polite grin spreading across her face. Sunlight spilled onto her form as the sun outside passed from behind a cloud; Pippa could feel it in the corner of her eyes, which would need to be squinted if she were to turn her head at all. The heat from the sunlight made her even more uncomfortable. Yet despite this, and though the polite smile was also unnatural and quite unlike her usual hearty grin, Pippa was unfailingly lovely.

[Tessie]

"Hi."

Instinctively Jamie turned slightly to look over his shoulder, trying to work out who Pippa was talking to. There was no one there. But there was no way, after everything that had happened at the ball, could she possibly, actually, maybe be speaking to him?

A sudden need to scrub himself all over possessed the Gryffindor boy and he was ridiculously close to bolting for his dorm. But Jamie took a deep breath as his head of house always told him to when one of his OCD urges threatened to overwhelm him, and contented himself with removing a pristine, neatly folded handkerchief from the inside pocket of his robes and began wiping his hands. He fixed his dark gaze downwards, losing himself in the simple, precise movements that were so familiar, partly to regain his calm, partly in the hope that when he looked up again she would be gone and it would all just have been in his head.

Eventually even he had to acknowledge that his hands were spotless and, having carefully refolded the handkerchief and placed it in his bag to be cleaned as soon as he got back to the common room, Jamie looked up. She was still there. He swallowed, hard. What the hell was she doing here, anyway? Was she still angry about the other night? Was she going to yell at him or hex him or something?

Whatever she did, it couldn't possibly make him feel any worse than he currently did about what he'd done. So, sighing quietly, Jamie resigned himself to whatever fate Pippa may have in store for him.

"Hi," he responded, trying not to be distracted by how pretty she looked right now, which was admittedly difficult considering that was all he'd ever thought about when he saw Pippa.