Untitled Ravenclaw Story

(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted except for personal use. JK Rowling owns the Potterverse; I\'m just visiting for a time.

*****************************************

YEAR FOUR: IT\'S A DATE

Warning: Contains a little bit of humor.

About a week later, I was in the pool, swimming laps in an effort to keep myself at least somewhat in shape, when I noticed a familiar form swimming beside me. I smiled slightly and sped up; she sped up as well until we were both definitely exerting ourselves.

Eventually, she was forced to grab my shoulder. “Wait up,” she said, breathing heavily. “You must be in some kind of shape.”

I shrugged. “I play Quidditch for my House team. Chaser.”

“Oh. Cool, I guess. I’m more into football. The American kind,” she added. “You know anything about it?”

“My aunt’s gotten me a few t-shirts and jerseys from what I guess is her favorite team. The Dolphins, I believe.”

Samantha made a face. “Have you even heard of the Bears?”

I made a tactical decision. “I’m sure I have at some point. We don’t get a lot of American football coverage at school.”

“Well, that’s okay then.” She leaned back, her breath caught, her breasts glistening as the sun shone down on them. She was wearing a one-piece suit today – dark red, but it showed more than the newzealand had – and it looked very nice on her. “How’s your aunt doing?”

“She’s getting a little better.” We were visiting her every day for a couple of hours, and she’d promised me that within another week she’d be well enough to play chess with me. That had been gratifying. “My mother still spends most of the day there. Da usually goes to the OMI for four or five hours so he can keep in touch with his office.”

\"\'Da\'?”

I blushed a little. “Just a nickname. My father.”

“I think it’s kind of cute.”

“We’re glad you approve.”

That made her laugh. Over the past week, we’d been tending to run into each other at the pool or at breakfast, and we’d had a few chats. Nothing too heavy, but I was learning more about American wizarding from an outsider’s standpoint. It was interesting. In turn, I was telling her things about Hogwarts.

I leaned back against the side of the pool as well, allowing my legs to come up. I hadn’t come to America with any swimming gear, but two days after we’d arrived, Da and I had gone to a shopping mall – it was nearly two-thirds the size of Ottery-St-Catchpole, which staggered me – and picked up some summer-weight clothes. There had also been a wizarding shop that Mr. McCann – who was still checking on us at the hospital – had turned us onto, and they’d created holsters in the new clothes so we could keep our wands on us. Today, I was wearing a plain pair of black trunks called “board shorts”, although I didn’t understand why.

Samantha echoed my movement, and I tried very hard to avoid staring at her chest or her legs.

“So,” she said casually, “what are you doing later?”

“Sorry?” She hadn’t yet figured out that that was how I stalled for time.

“Later. Doing you are. What. So.”

I chuckled and gently splashed water at her. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well, it’s Friday night. Usually, kids our age are going out and doing things that their parents wouldn’t like them to do.”

I peered at her. “Did you have something specific in mind?”

“Not really,” Samantha said, turning over onto her stomach, holding onto the edge of the pool and allowing her body to drift. I got a very good look at her ass – which I had come to appreciate more and more over the last week – before I turned over as well. “I was thinking of going to see Forrest Gump.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw it about a week ago. Caught a bus, met a couple half from Liverpool and half from Baltimore. It was fairly good, actually, although there wasn’t much of a climax. It just sort of coasted to a finish.”

“Well, don’t spoil it for me!”

I shook my head. “I didn’t tell you anything that happened, did I?”

“I guess not.” She sighed and ducked under the water, then came up, pushing her now-flat black hair off her face and over her shoulder. “Could I convince you to see it again?”

“Sorry?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Quit pulling that ‘sorry’ shit. Just answer me, would you?”

“Oh! Um. Yes, of course, I’d be glad to.”

Samantha smiled. “So I guess you’re not old enough to drive.”

“Wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Fine, then. I’ll meet you in two hours in the lobby?”

I checked my watch, upon which my father had taught me to cast a Waterproofing Charm. It was 4:00 now. “Sounds delightful.”

“It’s a date.”

We separated at the elevators; Samantha’s room was on the other side of the hotel, and she was on the seventeenth floor anyway. I rode up to my room and found Da sitting on the couch in the living room area, watching the muggle news. A copy of The New York Seer, America’s answer to the Prophet, was scattered on the table in front of him. “Having a good day so far?”

“Seems that way. I’ve secured a date for the evening.”

Da raised his eyebrow. “Is it that Samantha girl?”

I nodded. Da and Mum had met her a couple of times during breakfast. “We’re going to go see a film, and maybe something afterward. She wasn’t specific.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re making friends, at least. What did you say her parents do?”

“Her father works for the muggle government; she didn’t say where. I think her mother doesn’t do anything during the year, but I get the impression she helps out at Samantha’s school.” I pointed toward my room. “Mind if I go? I’m kind of chilly here.”

“Oh. Right.”

I closed the door to my bedroom behind me and quickly divested myself of my wet shorts and thin t-shirt, wrapping them both in the damp towel and tossing it into the bin under the sink. The cleaning crew – they didn’t use house-elves here – would pick up anything left there, launder it, and return it the next day. Kind of extravagant, in my opinion, but since the OMI was paying for everything, none of us were complaining.

I took a fairly-long shower, paying careful attention to my ablutions. Afterward, I brushed my teeth again and took out the Magic Razor I’d bought in the gift shop. It wasn’t just a brand name; the trick was to run the razor over your face once with the cover on, and it would remember and shave you. It certainly was safer than trying it myself, and I really didn’t feel like meeting Samantha with my face covered in nicks and scratches.

Clothing. That was the next obstacle. Plain blue shorts for underwear, and plain white socks. My trainers were still fairly white – I’d gotten them two weeks into break – so I Scourgifyed them a couple of times until they were clean. Based on what I’d seen at the theater the last time I’d gone, jeans would work – I had a pair with me that were still pretty dark-blue – but instead of a t-shirt, I opted for a dark-red button-down shirt. Short-sleeved, since the summers here were much hotter than back at home.

Cologne: check. Hair brushed: check. Face clear: check. Kidney potion: check.

Next to the kidney potion was a similar-yet-different-enough bottle with a measuring cup built into the lid. I wasn’t quite sure about it – I had no idea what American teenagers were like – but I had to decide: should I take the Biocontrol Potion, just in case? Or should I hold off, and not get my hopes up.

That decision took almost a quarter-hour, and it involved a lot of pacing around, but I eventually decided to go for it. Better safe than sorry.

After spending forty more minutes milling around our rooms to the point that Da told me to sit down before I ruined the carpet, I finally made my way downstairs to the lobby. Samantha was already there. “I’m impressed,” she said. “You clean up pretty nice.”

I took a moment to find my breath before I returned the compliment. “You look lovely.” And she did; her black hair was slightly waved as it fell free behind her shoulders; she had on makeup, but not too much; and even though I’d seen her in far less, the sight of her in a scoop-necked black top and white jeans tight enough that they looked painted on was nonetheless enough to impress me far more than was necessary. I said so.

“I haven’t been out with someone else in a while. I felt like dressing up a little.”

“I’m honored.”

She smiled, and I saw a slight blush through her tan. I held out my hand, and she took it, leading me out of the hotel and into the parking lot. “So, your car?”

“My mother’s, actually,” she said. We stopped at a large, new-looking black four-door vehicle at least twice the size Mr. Weasley’s car had been. “I figured we’d go get something to eat before the movie. Do they have drive-ins where you live?”

I’d never heard of one, and I shook my head. “Is it like a theater where you park your car inside?”

“Close.” We got in and she showed me how to buckle the seatbelt before we left the parking lot and merged into traffic. “You park in a parking lot, put a little speaker in the window or tune in on the car radio, and watch the movie from inside the car.”

“Sounds like an adventure.”

“Sometimes.”

Several times I clenched my hand around the handle of the door, much to Samantha’s amusement. “I don’t drive that bad, do I?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I watched as she ducked the car ahead of a semi-truck, my heart hammering. “I haven’t ridden in that many cars.”

That got a small chuckle. “Culture clash, huh?”

I just made an affirmative noise.

“You’re cute sometimes.”

I actually stared at her a moment after she said that, until she started giggling.

We had dinner at a restaurant called Friday’s. American restaurants served such large portions; I actually had to send back half the chips that came with my burger, for if I’d eaten them, I might have exploded. But dinner went well, save the dollop of ice cream that landed directly on the place where I had a strong feeling Samantha’s left nipple resided. She cursed under her breath as she wiped it off.

“Can’t you magic it away or something?” she asked under her breath.

“In the car. It wouldn’t do to get caught out.”

“Pain in the ass.”

But in the car, I used what limited skill I had with cleaning spells, running through my entire repertoire until she was satisfied. “Thanks,” she said as we pulled out into the street again.

“I do hope that wasn’t an excuse to get me to look at your chest, because I would feel very hurt by that.”

I must have gauged my tone exactly right, because she blushed fiercely – I could see it even in the light of oncoming traffic – and concentrated on getting us to our destination.

I paid for our tickets, as I had paid for dinner – Da had given me some muggle money that he’d had changed earlier that day – and we pulled into a parking spot. “Do you want anything?” I asked her.

“Do you?”

I shrugged. “I’m still pretty full from dinner. But if you’d like anything, I’ll be glad to go get it for you.”

“That’s sweet, but I’m all right.” She slid open what I’m assuming was an ashtray and pulled out a pack of gum. I took a piece – there was some sort of seasoning on the fries that I could taste through most of my mouth – and so did she.

We’d arrived just in time; about five minutes later – just as the gum was starting to lose its flavor – the huge screen ahead of the car came to life. Samantha tuned in one of the lower frequencies on the car’s radio, and we heard the audio that went along with the advertisement imploring us to purchase overpriced refreshments. Then there were previews – the same ones I’d seen the week before – and finally, the film began.

Since I’d seen it already, except for a couple of moments around the middle that I’d missed to go to the loo, I divided my time between watching the screen and watching Samantha. It was quite the education. She seemed to empathize pretty heavily with the main character, and toward the latter third, when Jenny revealed she had AIDS, I actually saw Samantha allow a tear to fall. I held out my hand, and I don’t think she realized she took it.

The ending was a little sad, I admit, although it had its uplifting bit at the end with Little Forrest. Through the sad parts after Jenny’s revelation, I felt Samantha squeeze my hand as if to draw strength. But all things had to end, and when the credits started to roll, she groped around for the tissue box on the floor and pressed one to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But, you know…”

“No, no, it’s all right.” I smiled at her and passed her a second tissue. “It affected me much more the first time I saw it.”

That got a grin. It wasn’t the only one I got, either, as I lived through the adventure that was Samantha’s driving skills. We did make it back to the hotel in one piece, which was reassuring, and I told her so.

She was starting to appreciate my sense of humor more, and I appreciated that in turn. This time, when we came to the point where we’d usually part for the day, I followed her. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you home. If that’s all right with you.”

Samantha smiled. “It’s fine.” I offered her my hand and she held it again as we rode the elevator up to the seventeenth floor. She led the way to the suite she was sharing with her parents. “My folks are out tonight. Would you like to come in?”

I half-shrugged. “I’d like to spend more time with you, definitely, but would it really be proper for me to be at home with you, without your parents, especially after what’s technically just our first date?”

I was completely unprepared for the hug she bestowed upon me, but not so taken by surprise that I forgot to put my arms around her. I clinically catalogued the way her body felt against mine and saved that thought to be revisited later. She did tilt her head up, and I figured out in short order that she expected me to kiss her. So I did.

It wasn’t the bone-shaking kiss that I’d gotten from Fiona, or the explosive feeling of my first kiss with Padma, but it felt quite lovely nonetheless. I debated whether or not to try touching my tongue to her lower lip, but relented in the end. We separated, and Samantha’s smile was inordinately welcome. “We should do this again sometime,” I said quietly.

“We should.” Her voice sounded a little disconnected. “Um.”

“Um. Indeed.” She laughed again. “I’m going to go down to my room. But do call on me whenever you’d like to go out again.”

“You could call me, too, you know.”

“I could, yes. But I wouldn’t want to seem too pushy.”

She fixed her blue eyes on me. “Be pushy. I won’t mind.”

“Very well. A good night to you.” I kissed her cheek and stepped back as she fumbled through her purse for the room key. She blew me a kiss just before the door closed behind her, and I made my way back to the elevator quite lightly on my feet.

When I got back to my room, the message light on the phone on the desk was flashing. I picked it up and picked at the keys until I accessed the proper function – these muggles had a talent for making things more complicated than necessary.

The first message was from Terry. He was speaking unnecessarily loudly, unused to using a telephone:

“David! It’s Terry Boot! From Hogwarts! I got your letter! I hope your aunt gets better soon, and that you have an all right time in America! Bring back souvenirs! If I don’t speak to you before school, have a good rest of the summer! Send a letter; I’m using a pay phone!” Then, more quietly, “now what, Padma? Do I hang up?”

There was the sound of things being shuffled around. “Hi, David, it’s Padma. Terry told me what happened with your aunt. I hope all goes well, and that she mends quickly. I’ll say a prayer for her.” Padma was a practicing Christian – a Protestant of some sort, if I remembered right. “Do be careful in America. They do strange things there.” The voice got muffled, and I heard, “all right, Terry, just a moment!” She must have put the receiver back to her ear at that point. “We’ve got to go. There was a concert tonight and Terry’s parents brought us. We saw the pay phones and decided to give it a go. But we’ve got to get home; they’re dropping me from the Knight Bus. Give your best to your parents. We’re thinking of you.”

A short click. I smiled. Then a recorded voice asked me to press “3” to delete the message, “7” to save it, or “9” to quit. I selected “3”, and the next message began.

“Hi, David.” It was Samantha, and her voice was low and throaty. “Just wanted to thank you again for a great time, and for being a gentleman. I’ll see you tomorrow. You can count on that.”

I pressed “3” again. I would never forget that message.

A few minutes later, I had divested myself of my clothes and was laying in bed, accessing the memory of the softness of Samantha pressed against me as we hugged and kissed. It wasn’t the first time since Fiona that I’d decided needs must and done something about it, but it was definitely the best of those times.

And it led to a deep, peaceful sleep. I’d like to say I dreamed about Samantha, but dreaming about a man riding a bran muffin through a giant digestive system wasn’t a total disappointment either.

*****************************************

A/N: The \"portions\" thing is related to something I read about how portions served at restaurants in Europe are much smaller than those served in America. I guess at Hogwarts the students have figured out to pace themselves and only take the portions they know they can finish (Ron excepted), but better safe? I don\'t know. It sounded good at the time.

Why is David so confident and sure of himself? Part of it\'s the fact that students at Hogwarts seem to grow up faster than others. Part of it\'s that his parents treat him like an adult. Part of it\'s just the way he is. And part of it\'s the fact that he\'s looking back, so he\'s probably changing a few things.

And yes, that last paragraph is directly from an episode of The Tick (cartoon, not live-action).

The America arc is almost over. Just FYI.