arrays | [ closed ] take just a little bit of time just to make you feel right

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[ closed ] take just a little bit of time just to make you feel right

The thing Leo has come to love most about being a half-blood and going to wizard school isn't the magic - it's the parties. Any normal teenagers can throw a decent party if given half a chance, but throw magic into the mix, and all bets are off. And, of course, he knows exactly the right way through the secret tunnels to get to Hogsmeade, and there is this one bar that'll give something a little stronger than regular old butterbeer to a bunch of underage kids, and then there's the entrance to the kitchens where Piper can talk the house elves into just about anything... Add all that together, and it's simple math, when you get right down to it.

The only thing to make your standard teenage wizarding party better here at Hogwarts is to bring in all the Houses in the Room of Requirement. The best part? Not having to sneak in anything from Hogsmeade, because the Room takes care of everything for them, and the supply is neverending.

It doesn't take much for these affairs to start getting out of hand, and Leo of course isn't one to let a good party pass him by. The Room is making sure he has a steady supply of his favorite drinks throughout the night, and the stereo he rigged up for a friend in third year is still going strong, playing some of the better tunes that both the Muggleborns and Pure-bloods can get behind. It's all to hang out before Christmas break, and to celebrate a great game of Quidditch - and there are even a good number of Hufflepuffs around, those that are too good-natured to hold a grudge against the Ravenclaw team for doing their jobs. All in all, it's a great shindig, and it's not until long after curfew that Leo even considers going back to the common room.

By the time he actually does go, the task turns out to be more difficult as he'd imagined it would be. The portraits are about ten times as entertaining as usual, especially that one knight, and even the ones that chastise him as he stumbles down the hall, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous some of them sound, ordering him to get back to his common room before one of the prefects or professors catch him.

"The prefects are still down the hall," he slurs, and Sir Cadar- Sir Cardigan? Whatever the name is, Leo doesn't care, but it's still funny that the guy thinks he needs an escort back to the tower. Like he's that bad. He's walking in a perfectly straight line, except for where the wall curves. And he's totally almost there, anyway. At least, he thinks he is.

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It takes some skill to keep the blush off her cheeks but she can't deny that her neck warms at his admission. Not that it's new to her, of course, but she still wants to deny it.

"I wouldn't say anything."

She shrugs a shoulder, arms folded defensively again.

Well, if he doesn't look put out at that.

"What? Why not? Do I really embarrass you that much?" Honestly, it's just friendly teasing when she's on the Quidditch pitch. She can't hold that against him! Or what - does she think he wouldn't be good enough to brag about?

"No!"

Natalie shakes her head. "Hypothetically, it should just be between the two of us. Something rather private."

She wants to break her gaze but she doesn't, wrinkling her mouth instead.

He stares at her in silence for a while as he processes that. When he does speak again, the words come slowly, as if Leo is concerned he'll mess up somehow.

"Like that Quidditch game," he decides, not taking his eyes off of her. "Though hypothetically, they'd already know. So why would it matter? Or are you just scared to admit you'd enjoy it?" Strangely, there isn't an ounce of teasing in his voice - at the moment, there is only curiosity, as if she is a puzzle or a project he's trying to figure out.

"Presumptuous, yeah? Assuming I'd enjoy it?" She laughs, haughty and mocking and kind of cruel.

But her expression softens and she finally looks away, tucking her soft curls behind her ears, acutely aware of the rapid beating of her heart.

"I still wouldn't fan any flames." She shakes her head.

Leo isn't phased, though at any other time, he'd be annoyed by it. He simply takes a step closer, still grinning that same grin, and says, "Why not? You definitely enjoy kissing me if you keep coming back for more."

"So what?" Her question is firm, and she stands her ground. "What does it matter? We'd go up in flames and you should know that." Natalie pushes him a little, meaning to urge him onward.

She has him stumbling back a step, but he doesn't fall, instead grabbing her wrists and pulling her with him. When he recovers his balance and looks back up at her, there's a spark in his eyes that Natalie should easily recognize, and his voice is almost singsong with delight.

"So you are scared."

"I am not. And you're knackered," Natalie scoffs, not bothering to wriggle away from him. She won't react, let him ruffle her feathers.

"Can't we just keep going?"

"No. Demuéstralo."

He doesn't let go, doesn't pull away. Holding her gaze steadily, despite a possible touch of drunken swaying, Leo's voice is low as he continues, "Then we can go."

"Don't do this here, Leo," Natalie pleads softly, lifting her head.

"What the hell d'you want from me?"

"Do what?" he asks with the same singsong tone, not even bothering to hide the surge of pleasure from hearing Natalie actually use his name instead of the usual Valdez. Which... is also his name, but not the one that matters here.

"I dunno what you mean, Goodman. Friendly conversation, this is. Not my fault you started talking about us... hypothetically, of course," he adds, eyes gleaming.

Natalie huffs, determined not to let him get her blood boiling. The heat between them is tangible and she sets her jaw stubbornly. What a bastard.

So, of course, she gives him another small shove backwards, further down the abandoned corridor.

This time, Leo is far enough off his guard that he actually tumbles to the floor with a soft 'oof'. There are a few scattered sniggers from paintings that haven't fled the scene yet, drawing an irritated look from the young wizard as he pushes himself up again.

"What was that for?" he demands, grin replaced with a dour glare in an instant.

"Don't push me."

But Natalie doesn't walk away, even amid the sniggers. She extends her hands to him, hoping to help him up because she does feel badly about actually sending him to the floor.

"Here."

"Pretty sure you're not the one on the floor here," Leo grumbles, accepting her hand regardless. Once he's on his feet, however, he pulls away and starts off on his previous path to the tower, still a bit unsteady as he goes. "I'll never understand how you can be so nice one minute, and a total prat the next."

"I don't know either," Nat mumbles.

She follows him, brushing her hands over the front of her dress. "I'm sorry I pushed you." Her voice is clearer, more assured. "You can still lean on me."

"Estoy bien," he mutters, giving each curios portrait watching them a withering glance as he passes. One more staircase... or is it two? Whatever; he'll get there.

"Come on," she insists, reaching forward to brush her hand against his before she pulls back slightly, keeping her distance behind him.

"I don't mind that much. I said I was sorry."

Just that small touch is enough to make him slow, though stopping again is far from his mind. He doesn't really want Natalie to go, but he's getting so tired of this... whatever this is. They're not friends, not enemies... not dating, though they're both clearly interested. It's enough to make his head swim.

"Why?" Leo asks suddenly, once they're halfway down the hall. Part of him is shouting 'Red alert!", yelling that he shouldn't be asking anything like that at the moment, while another is ordering him to just accept the help for once, just go back to the dormitory and sleep it off, but he isn't inclined to listen to either. What'll it even matter, come the morning?

"I want t'be nice to you," Natalie confesses, more than okay with him not facing her. "But I don't want you to fancy me, because you shouldn't."

She exhales sharply through her nostrils. "I want you to stop flirting with me and to push me away when I get too close, but obviously you won't do any of that."

It doesn't help that he can still make her smile, that she still hasn't forgotten their train ride. It would be preferable to cling to her juvenile feelings, but she knows that she's grown past that. She just doesn't want to admit it.

And that is when he does stop, wheeling about to face her and nearly losing his balance in the process.

"Who said you get to decide who I should or shouldn't fancy?" Leo demands, irritation flashing in his dark eyes. The slur of his words lessens the roughness of them, but only just. "Since when do you get to decide who I flirt with, especially with how you... you... jerk me around since, what, fourth year? What is your deal, Goodman, what are you so scared of? Why d'you always say one thing and do another, eh? Make up your bloody mind!"

When she doesn't wince, she just knows she's grown accustomed to pushing his buttons that this is nothing to her. "It would be so much better if you did all of that with someone who isn't me," Natalie replies softly, offsetting the harshness of his words, not even realizing how she's thrown her arms out to catch him in case he fell again.

"I'm sorry." She swallows. "I shouldn't flirt back either."

"No, no puedo creer esto," he spits out, stepping closer, "no te puedo creer. You. Don't. Get. To decide. You don't get to choose what's better for me Goodman, I do. And remember the last time I did all of that with someone who wasn't you? You ruined the entire night!"

By now, his voice has started to rise in volume, but Leo can't be arsed to care. Natalie Goodman has long since gotten into his head, driving him to the brink of frustration for any given reason. And here they are again.

"You're sorry for flirting with me, you're sorry for pushing me..." He shakes his head, looking a good deal disgusted with the entire situation. "You should be sorry for a lot of things, but flirting with me isn't one, you twat. Go back to your bloody dungeon. I can find my own common room." And to prove it, he spins on his heel, still wobbly, and storms down the corridor, not even fully certain if it's the right way but not caring.

His words shake her a little harder than the last several times they've argued like this. She's taught herself not to need anyone, to defend herself at all costs, to shut everyone out when they get too close. It's safe like this, and it makes school that much more tolerable. He's a constant reminder to her of the horrible girl she becomes when you pull on her pigtails a little too hard and she doesn't like how sick she feels right now, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You're going in the wrong direction," she informs him once she can find her voice.

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