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Since the 'incident' after the Quidditch game a few days ago, Harry hadn't been able to think straight. Literally. Smith had been all over his thoughts every waking moment. He hated it. He hated feeling as though Smith still had control over him. He made a habit of not looking at him every time they passed in corridors, but Smith looked like he didn't give a shit either way. Except when Harry was with Ginny. Then Smith would glare slightly.

They were gathered outside, enjoying a rather mild day with no lessons. Ginny was sitting between Harry's legs, his fingers wrapped in her hair, looking every bit the contented couple everyone percieved them to be. But Harry was, as usual, thinking about that bastardly Hufflepuff, who seemed to have attached himself to his brain.

He had to do something about this. Like punch Smith. Really hard. He growled slightly, passing it off as a cough when Ginny turned to look at him in concern. He bent to kiss her, trying hard, for once, to not think about Zach's lips as he did so.
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closetflorist
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closetflorist
Harry stared in the direction of the two wizard's standing outside Greenhouse 12. Seamus kept looking around nervously, as if he thought someone were watching. The other bloke, Zabini, held a straight smirk on his face, finding Finnigan's nervousness somewhat amusing. Harry wanted to punch them.

Neither one of them, of course, knew he was there as he was safely cloaked beneath his father's old Invisibility Cloak, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Seamus was talking to him again, after he'd asked him not to. Okay so it had been more of a threat than a simple "will you not talk to him anymore," but at any rate Seamus was intentionally defying him and Harry was.not.happy.

Harry was well educated on Seamus and Zabini's past and it did not make him happy to see them within five yards of each other, much less standing so close they could smell what each other had for breakfast. He was tempted to throw the cloak off of him right then and knock Zabini good in the mouth, just once, but he did not. Instead he waited for the conversation to end and took a brisk walk back up to the castle to return before Seamus came back through the portrait hole. Apparently Seamus wasn't quite sure about who he really belonged to. Harry would have to refresh his memory on that tonight and make sure he never, ever forgot.
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tastes_of_ink
Seamus sat in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring over at the fire.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat by the fire, talking happily together. That wasn't the issue. The issue was the other person who sat with them, draped over Harry, kissing Harry, touching him.

She'd been doing this for nearly a month now. Being with his Harry. And she had no clue about Harry and him. She had no clue as to why he glared at them every time they were together, why he and Harry sometimes snuck off together for an hour or so.

But it didn't mean it didn't hurt, seeing Harry pretend he didn't exist, pretend that they were nothing to each other. Thinking about Harry being with her at night instead of him. It drove him insane.
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the_rocklobster
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the_rocklobster
Zacharias exited the showers, a towel wrapped firmly around his waist as he moved to his locker. He had not purposely hurled a Quaffle at Potter. Honestly, his hand had just - slipped, really. Was it his fault that watching Potter and the Girl Weasley mooning over each other after he caught the snitch was both nauseating and distracting? Surely it was not.

He growled lowly, and slammed his fist into locker next to his own. Potter, be damned! And damn himself, too, for letting anything about the other boy get to him.
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closetflorist
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closetflorist
Harry wiped the sleeve of his robes across his mouth in disgusted shock. Cho Change had just kissed him. Kissed him. Kissed him while she was crying over Cedric. His lips tasted like salty tears and girl

He just stood there, wiping the wetness from his face and lips, boggled at how she could think he possibly still liked her when he noticed a face peeking in the door of the Room of Requirement.

From the looks of his expression, Seamus had apparently witnessed what had just went on with Cho and Harry; though in his defense, she had definitely kissed him.

"Seamus," Harry said coolly, as if nothing had happened. "Almost finished cleaning up. Shut the door, will you?"
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Seamus stared at the back of Harry's head, not exactly paying attention to Moody, who was talking at the front.
He was thinking about the Yule Ball, just over a week away. More, he was daydreaming about the Yule Ball and a certain someone he would like to go with. Stupid fantasy.

Seamus had always been a ladies man, as far as he was concerned. And he knew he wasn't unattractive. He could have any girl he wanted if he put in a little bit of effort.
But this year his attention had been drawn elsewhere. He found himself staring dreamily at Harry at inappropriate moments, waking up and watching him sleep at night, doing his best to sit next to him whenever he could. He just felt drawn to Harry. And really attracted to him. He would give anything to be able to ask Harry to the ball. But Harry, no doubt, had other plans, and would either laugh at Seamus or be completely disgusted at the implication that he might like boys.

Seamus sighed.
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closetflorist
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Remus was sitting out on the balcony, basking in the radiant summer sunshine as he enjoyed one of his favorite novels when he faintly heard a rap at the door.

Sighing heavily, he marked his page and put the book down. His hands trembled as he imagined the landlord standing on the opposite side of his door demanding rent that had been due three days ago. He was preparing his line, I promise to have your rent no later than Friday, Mr. Wentsworth, when he opened the door and found not a rotund balding fellow, but a petite young woman with brilliant blue hair smiling up at him.

"Nymph-Tonks," He corrected himself, offering her half of a smile. "What bring you to this side of town? Well come in, isn't smart to lurk about outside. Come on."
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gryfforin
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gryfforin
“Watch where you’re going Thomas,” Blaise growled as he looked down upon his classmate.

Blaise’s eyes fixed intently on Dean’s back as the Gryffindor mumbled an apology and stumbled away, looking around, undoubtedly for his escort.

Pathetic! Walking about like a mutt without his master.

Blaise chuckled as Dean nearly tripped over some Ravenclaw. The witch, who was bending over awkwardly, her hands on the floor as if she were mimicking some inverted ‘V’, stood swiftly, catching him by the forearm and shoulder before he lost his balance. Blaise raised the glass of pumpkin juice to his lips as she whispered in Dean’s ear, his eyes following Dean’s gaze without thought.

The girl must have told Thomas where to find his mistress as he was now hurrying in the direction of Granger and Weasley.
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Blaise sat alone on a bench, looking out over the beach, and then the sea, which was dark purple in the setting sun. The air was warm, his shirt discarded carelessly beside him, and all he could hear was the soft swooshing of the waves and the sound of classical music floating over from one of the cafe's along the sea front.

The best thing of all, he thought, was that there was no one he knew here. No one at all. He had finally managed to escape Hogwarts and everything and everyone associated with it.

Or so he thought.

Current Mood: content content

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closetflorist
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Harry was furious. He chewed on the end of his sugar quill furiously as Hermione rambled on about N.E.W.T.S. and Ron talked to Seamus and Dean about Quidditch. Madame Rosemerta brought them a tray of butterbeers and smiled, eyeing Harry nervously as the sugar quill snapped in his mouth and broke to pieces.

He paid her no attention. His gaze was fixed instead, on the table across the room surrounded by Slytherins. Draco was in the center, of course, with Pansy to his right. Crabbe and Goyle were preoccupied with a vast array of pasties and deserts and Nott was chatting up the Greengrass witch. However, the only one he cared about right now was Blaise, and the evil, predatory look on his face, and how he kept inching closer and closer to Draco with each moment that passed.
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