The Not So Good Girl

I

The two extremely attractive teenagers sat, listening to the drum of the ice on the windows—an enormous storm was taking place. Earlier, Virginie had gone to Chris’s room to help him study for his Potions exam; now, they were relaxing on Chris’s bed, snuggled up warmly.

“Ahem,” Chris began, moving away from her enough that she could sense he had something very important to say. She sat upright in bed and looked down at him, and he in turn sat up to look at her. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“What’s that?” she asked, looking at him.

“Well…I…well, my father and mother are moving further east.”

“Are you moving?” she asked worriedly.

“No, well not now…but…my father was telling me that he will be able to get me a spot at his new facility…a sort of law office.”

“Oh…so…”

“Well, I think I’m going to take it. I wouldn’t be able to be away from my family, you know, and…I just think it would be best for me.”

“All right.”

“What do you mean, ‘all right’?” he asked.

“I mean, all right.”

“Are you annoyed?”

“No.”

“Well…it’s not as if we won’t be able to talk.”

“I don’t want to be tied down to someone who won’t be here,” she said testily. “I like you a lot, but I honestly don’t see this going past Hogwarts.”

“Me neither,” he sighed appreciatively. “I mean I think you’re great, and we’re great, but we really aren’t great, you know?”

She laughed. “I know.”

“Well,” he said, “there is really no reason for us to not be together for the rest of the year.”

“I never said I didn’t want to,” she said evenly.

“Good,” he grinned, pushing her down and tickling her.

II

Hermione caught up with her after Defence against the Dark Arts class.

“I did it,” she said shyly, her face red.

Virginie squealed. “Did you! How was it? Was it okay?”

“It was good,” Hermione said. “Not bad for my first time, I guess.”

“Great! Well I’m glad for you.”

“How’s Chris?” she asked as they walked toward Potions.

“Fine,” Virginie said, staring straight ahead.

“Something wrong?”

Virginie turned and put her right hand on her hip. “He’s fucking moving, is what’s wrong! Not that I care!”

“When?” Hermione asked, puzzled.

“End of this year,” Virginie grumbled, walking gingerly down the steps due to the many books in her arms.

“Well that’s not so bad, then,” Hermione said.

“No, it’s not,” Virginie admitted. “I just find it rather odd that I have to be in a relationship with someone knowing that it’s going to end.”

“Well, everything ends,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“Shut up," she said bitterly, opening the dungeon door.

“Let’s make something fun!” Slughorn exclaimed as they filed in.

“Oh, joy,” Virginie said sarcastically, throwing her bags down next to Harry.

Because Virginie was in such a pissy mood, she decided to brew a basic attitude booster. As she worked, she noticed Harry rifling hurriedly through his magical book, and she rolled her eyes.

“Stop it, Ron!” Hermione screamed, swatting his hand away from her cauldron. “This is important!”

A green mist that smelled of lavender wafted over toward Harry and Virginie, who both began to sway on their feet, hardly able to stay alert.

“Erm….professor…”

Slughorn hurried over, examining the mist. “Hermione, did you add essence of lavender to your potion? I’m afraid it warped into a sleeping draught.”

“Thanks a lot, Ron!” she hissed, slamming all her books into her bag.

“Oh no,” Slughorn said, smiling, “it’s rather good actually…it’s just too bad you had to use it on Harry and Virginie.”

Virginie felt herself growing dizzier and dizzier and sat down heavily on the nearest chair. Soon she felt the pull toward sleep and she struggled to stay awake and looked about the room. Beside her, Harry was snoring gently, his breath causing his hair to blow up at regular intervals. His glasses had slid dangerously low on his nose.

She felt her head fall back, and she gave into the temptation to sleep.

III

“Virginie?”

Hearing her name, Virginie slowly opened her eyes and looked upward. Hermione stood before her, looking very worried.

“Oh thank goodness!” she exclaimed, hugging the invalid. “I thought for sure you’d be asleep for entirely too long and something bad would happen! …Slughorn was rather afraid of that anyway.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Virginie enquired, looking down at her clothing, which had been changed from her school robes to comfortable satin pyjamas.

“Almost a week,” Hermione blushed, nervously running her fingers through her curly hair. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

Virginie studied her surroundings. The hospital ward looked rather deserted; one boy was in a small twin bed with a curtain half-drawn around him, and there was a young, small girl with a first year look about her sitting upright in a bed drinking from a large goblet containing a fuchsia liquid that boiled and hissed.

“Chris was here earlier,” Hermione said, avoiding Virginie’s eyes.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Virginie enquired, puzzled. "What did he do? He did something, didn't he? Or maybe someone."

Hermione coughed, and Virginie stared at her.

“Tell me, Hermione,” the invalid demanded, throwing her covers back and sitting up in bed.

“Well, erm…he had…erm…well he had a girl with him,” she said awkwardly, still avoiding her eyes.

“Who?” Virginie asked incredulously.

“I don’t know her,” Hermione said quickly. “I think she’s a fifth year.”

“Eww…”

Hermione patted Virginie’s slim arm comfortingly. “Don’t even worry about it, Virginie. Why would you even want to be with him if he’s moving away?”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it?” she replied evenly, leaning her head back against the pillow. “I didn’t want to be with him…so why didn’t he just tell me?”

Hermione shrugged, tracing an imaginary pattern on the bed sheets.

“Well, never mind that,” Virginie said firmly. “I’m over it.”

“Good,” Hermione said. “Well it’s not as if I expected you to not be over it quickly. Anyway, would you like to come with me to London for the next two days? It should be rather fun. I think you need some fun.”

“That’ll be brilliant,” Virginie smiled.