When I Work the Night [Tag 7th Year Gryffindors]

[Amelia Pace]

Amelia was sat on her usual sofa, in front of the common room fire. A fire which was currently roaring with larger flames than she thought thoroughly safe, but it was keeping her warm, so she wasn’t complaining. That and the blanket she had tucked around her lower body in further attempt to keep it warm.

Leaning against the arm of the chair, her feet on the middle cushion and a book propped up against her legs. She should probably have been doing her Charms essay, a ten inch palaver about something or other that Ame hadn’t really been listening about. So instead she had Quidditch Through the Ages open on a chapter about good tactics. Not that she wanted to win or anything.

Their team this year was strong, and she was going to work them until the cows came home. With James in as Keeper and Starke at the Quaffle, they stood an excellent chance with just the three of them, let alone the other four members of the team.

Ame sighed, the only thing she really hoped for this year was that her and James managed to get along long enough for them to play well together. Who knew if their feuds would result in her whacking the Bludger at him rather than the opposing team. She’d be better off pretending the Bludger was his head, and the more she hit it the better.

Yes, that was definitely a better way of looking at things. The more anger she took out on the more Bludgers the better. So what if she was seeing their beloved Keeper’s head on them every single time. It was better than her actually hitting him.

[luke]

Luke was not happy.

Irritation was something Luke was not well acquainted with, his natural talent and short attention span meaning he usually either achieved his goals quickly or gave them up in pursuit of something else. Tonight, however, he could feel the frustration building up inside him – and the fact that he was becoming uncharacteristically frustrated only served to annoy him further.

Usually, he would have either rattled off this cursed charms essay in half an hour, or he would have cast it aside and gone to play his guitar or talk to some friends. Usually, he wouldn’t have left it until the last minute. Usually, he wouldn’t have got himself so worked up over a stupid piece of homework. Usually, he wouldn’t have got himself so worked up over the fact that he was getting himself so worked up!

Whether it was because of the late nights, or because the dreadful fact that the final exams of his entire school career were drawing inexorably closer had finally started to sink in, but Luke had been feeling more and more stressed recently. It didn’t help that all his friends could talk about was the start of the damn Quidditch season, either. Luke was tired of explaining that he didn’t want to talk tactics, he didn’t want to try out for the team, and he certainly didn’t want an hour-long breakdown of exactly why and how Gyffindor was going to win the Quidditch Cup this year, thank you very much.

Luke was on his way back from the library, his charms essay in his hand. He’d only managed to perform the spell at the very end of the lesson, and the theory side was causing him even more difficulty than the practice. He hadn’t been able to find enough to say about the spell to fill a coherent sentence, let alone ten inches of parchment. He gave the password to the Fat Lady without looking up from the mess that was his essay, and entered the common room in a huff.

His gaze was drawn to the roaring fire in the hearth – he didn’t think it was his imagination that it was fiercer than was usual. Closer inspection revealed Amelia Pace tucked up in front of said conflagration, the flames playing nicely off her hair. Luke’s first thought was how pretty she looked in the firelight, but this was chased immediately out of his mind by the thought that she was in his Charms class. Work before pleasure – not that Luke would have felt confident enough to pursue Ame in that way, anyway.

Asking for help was not something Luke usually did – he was confident enough in his talents to know that he could achieve most things alone – but then, today was far from a usual day. It was time to swallow his pride.

Luke moved forward to just behind Ame’s sofa. She didn’t see him approach, but he was too preoccupied to realise that he might startle her. He cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he said, his hand flying to his hair as it always did when he was slightly nervous, “Ame. Did you finish that charms essay for Professor Arkwright?”

[Amelia Pace]

This was all completely useless. She'd read it all before, and nothing she read worked for them or they already did it anyway. Why couldn't people be individual with these things? Why did it take a genius, like herself, to come up with something to make a team stand out from the crowd. Frowning at the book she slammed in close in frustration and looked at the fire.

It was completely mesmerising. All the different colours flickering before her. Something so dangerous, yet so frequently used and contained. Ame hadn't blinked until she heard Luke speak. Making her jump completely out of her skin, her hand covering her heart as she took a sharp intake of breath.

"Luke!" she exclaimed, turning on the sofa to see him stood behind her. "Bloody scared the life out of me!" she said, laughing slightly, the shock now worn off. Running her hand through her blonde hair, she smiled up at him before answering his question, "You mean that ten inch essay on the thing that I was totally listening too? Yeah, here." she said holding up her piece of blank parchment in front of him.

At least she wasn't the only one who hadn't completed it. Something told her though that Luke had probably near finished it and just needed enough for another inch or some. Her Charms textbook lay forgotten on the floor, now with her Quidditch handbook which had fallen on top of it as she'd jerked up in freight.

"I'm not help at all. Sorry." she finished apologetically, tucking her hands underneath her blanket and bring it up to her chin for some extra warmth.

[luke]

Luke hadn’t intended to scare Ame – he had been so focused on the prospect of finally sorting out this damn essay that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that his sudden approach might alarm her. In fact, her surprise was so unexpected that her startled reaction made him jump a little himself.

Although he was disappointed that Ame wouldn’t be able to help him after all, Luke couldn’t stop a grin from playing across his lips as he started at the completely blank piece of parchment in her hand. There was something about the proud way in which she presented it to him that was both cute and rebellious at the same time, and Luke couldn’t hold back a smile. He grinned and slowly arched an eyebrow.

“Ah. You haven’t exactly made much progress either, then?” He held up his own piece of parchment, which was a mess of crossings out and jumbled half-sentences. He flopped down into the armchair adjacent to the sofa Ame was sitting on, and another grin stole across his face at the sight of “Quidditch Through the Ages” propped against the girl’s legs. “Although not for want of trying, of course,” he remarked dryly.

Although even the mention of Quidditch was enough to make Luke annoyed at the moment – the rest of his house wouldn’t shut up about it – he still found something endearing in the way Ame could calmly read a Quidditch book over completing an important essay due the following morning. He may not have shared her passion, but he could understand what it was like to be absorbed in something one loved doing. His eyes met Ame’s and he grinned.

[Amelia Pace]

Amelia couldn't help but laugh, "Not in the strictest sense... no," she indicated her Charms textbook, abandoned on the floor which a smile, "I started reading on it, but then I realised, I didn't actually know what it was. So I gave up!" she couldn't help but laugh at her own stupidity. Besides, she had more things to worry about that one essay that would no doubt be a pointless exercise and waste of her time.

She'd made some effort to do the essay, her only failure being that she hadn't actually listened enough to hear what it was actually about. All in all, she couldn't really do it, and she couldn't be bothered to anyway. It was getting late. Way past curfew, and she still hadn't seen James come back from wherever her had gone to.

Not that she was worried, or cared where he was, but it seemed a little odd to her that she hadn't spoken to him yet. Or argued with him over something else trivial. Her mind had wondered slightly, staring into the space in front of her before bringing herself back to this world and realising that Luke was looking at her, she smiled back at him.

"Arkwright's okay," she said, taking her face out of the blanket slightly, "What's the worst we're gunna get, detention? Not like it's going to tarnish our records now is it?" she said speaking as somebody who'd had plenty of detentions in her time, and for forgetting homework it was hardly going to be anything worse than writing the homework again, or indeed for the first time, under the teacher's supervision.

Sighing slightly she pulled the blanket back up to just under her nose, a cool air creeping apast her foot as the blankets dislodged slightly. Frowning, she kicked her feet about in order to readjust the material back over her feet fully. Causing a rush of cold air to attack her lower body, making her shiver slightly.

[luke]

Luke couldn’t hold back a laugh at Ame’s carefree attitude. The way she could casually admit that she hadn’t the slightest idea what she was supposed to be doing was something he admired in her – he himself was loathe to admit it when he couldn’t do something. Even asking another student for help was something he considered a sign of his own weakness, and for Ame to be able to laugh at her own expense was remarkable indeed.

Luke had to admit she had a point – what was the worst that could happen? Detention wasn’t so bad. However, for Luke, it wasn’t the threat of detention or anything else that made him complete his homework on time – it was the fear of failure. He would feel far worse at the look on Professor Arkwright’s face than he would at the ensuing punishment. Charms was a subject Luke was supposed to be good at – and he was, usually – and to fail to complete an assignment would be to fall short of the standards he expected of himself.

However, Ame’s rebellious attitude towards schoolwork in general was infectious. Luke was far from feeling in a working mood as it was, and it was all too easy to let Ame’s desultory attitude towards work become his own.

“You’re right,” he said, feeling his worries over the essay evaporate. The feeling shared by students throughout history – that any trouble you could get into was far lessened by someone else being in the same boat – took over, and Luke found himself becoming more carefree by the second, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. After all, a detention shared was a detention halved.

Drawing his wand from his belt, Luke tapped the piece of parchment containing his sorry excuse for an essay. With a muttered incantation, he transfigured it instantly into an origami bird, which flapped its way in a loop around their heads before diving into the roaring fireplace. He watched it go with a satisfied grin. “Why worry, eh?” he said, giving Ame another smile and returning his wand to his belt with a flourish.

[zizi]

[/b] Well that had been a particularly dull greeting...what had her knickers twisted in a bunch?
[/ul][/size][/left]

[james]

It would be a relief to Strake to know that he had not been the only one to get a late start on the Charms paper. While a couple of them had been struggling with it in the commons, Starke had been in the library for the last couple hours, hunkered down with determination to finish it. For the most part he was done. He just had to crank out the last paragraph, but it was getting far too cold in the library. And it was a little eerie being the last one left in there.

When he stepped into the common room, his eyes first landed on Lovely Knight, and he could not help looking away before he realized she wasn’t strutting about as she was known to do as of late. While a number of blokes highly appreciated her carefree fashion, it embarrassed the life out of Starke. And now, being the oldest prefect in the house, it was his year to “deal” with her. While she might have been comfortable in her birthday suite, it was always someone who was throwing complaints at the prefects to plead with her to don something.

It was relieving to find her in her pajamas, and Starke stepped up to join his teammates and Luke. He fell back into one of the plush chairs, letting his goose-pimpled arms soak in the heat of the flames. “Good to see some seniourity around this thing.” He said, to no one in particular. The last few times he had tried to take to the fireplace, there seemed to be an abundance of younger years.

[there, i finally joined]

[jamie]

James walked quickly along the deserted corridors, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was only a little after curfew so James hoped he wouldn't get caught. If a teacher or a prefect saw him in his current state, it would be McGonagall's office, and then a letter being sent home to his parents. James sighed. He had promised his father he wouldn't get into any fights this year, and he hated disappointing him.

Now that he thought about it though he supposed he never should have made any such promise. He just couldn't help himself, he could learn as many anger management techniques as anyone could teach him, it never stopped him from losing his temper. He kicked at the carpet as he climbed the stairs up to the Gryffindor Tower. It really hadn't been his fault. What was he supposed to do? Just stand there and listen to some stinking Slytherin mouth off about his Dad? He muttered under his breath, using as many foul swear words as he could think of, as he finally reached the portrait hole.

"Watch your language!" The Fat Lady cried, appalled.

James opened his mouth to tell her to mind her own business then thought better of it. "Gobblefunk," he said darkly.

The portrait swung open without further comment and James stepped into the common room. He was surprised to find so many people still up, it was a cold and stormy night and the most sensible place to be would be bed. "Having a party?" He asked.

He crossed the room and plonked himself down on the couch beside Ame. She looked him over, raising an eyebrow as she took in his split lip, cut eyebrow and torn robes. James shrugged. "You should see the other guy." He said.

[Amelia Pace]

Ame didn’t see the point in worrying about such trivial thing. If it was an exam, she’d be cramming like a lunatic, but this was one essay, it really didn’t bother her all that much. Besides, Arkwright wasn’t that bad. She’d just say she’d not been feeling too well, or she would act cranky, either would work. They’d not question her.

”Exactly,” Amelia replied, smiling brightly at Luke before turning back towards the fire. Just as it let out a large crack. Spitting out a few ashes into the air. No, why worry. The Professor wouldn’t do anything to her anyway, they didn’t want to give her reason to bite them. That made her smile.

Ame heard footsteps as the conversation drew to a close, seeing Lovely appear from the Dormitory staircase, she smiled. Somebody to talk tactics too. Amelia had never really known what to think of the team Seeker. There was something in her telling her not to like her, but what was not to like, the girl had balls, and she was one hell of a flyer. She watched the pink haired girl take a seat, offered her a smile and stretched slightly.

When Starke entered she acknowledged him silently and fell back into the sofa arm.

Amelia had made herself comfortable again, bundled beneath her blanket, leaning with her back against the arm of the hair, facing away from the common room door. So when she heard somebody enter, she didn’t bother to acknowledge them until they sat on her feet, ”Will you watch where you’re woah!” she chastised, pulling her feet from under the Keeper and putting the back in their place on top of his lap, her blanket falling over him as she noticed the blood on his face and frowned, ”What did you do? Walk into the Whomping Willow?” she joked, leaning forwards slightly, dropping the blanket from her front and brushing his fringe out of his face. She couldn’t help but shake her head at him. If his Dad found out about this, he’d be in the shit.

And that cut on his eyebrow didn’t look to friendly either, neither did the split of his lip.

”I’m not sure I want to?” she muttered, dropping her hand from his face, to the am that lay across her shins. It hadn’t intended to be an affectionate motion, not originally, but her slowly moving thumb gave off another impression altogether. There was no point hiding anything from the people they were with, they all thought something was going on anyway, why bother?