The Flip Side

The Flip Side

Chapter Five

It wasn't until first class the next day - Potions with the Gryffindors - that the matter was brought up again. Pucey (now with a full-blown shiner) and Abby had secured a table at the back of the room and waved Higgs over as he entered a few minutes later. Wood, who was right behind him, narrowed his eyes and took at seat furthest from them, which happened to be next to Percy Weasley. As Higgs sat down, Pucey punched him on the shoulder.

"What was that for?" he asked angrily.

"Yesterday," Pucey replied.

"Well, I hate to remind you, but you did that already. Besides, I got my share, thanks," Higgs grumbled, glaring at Pucey through his own magnificent black eye.

"Obviously you weren't hit hard enough," Abby tossed her hair and gingerly scratched her neck while avoiding the itching gouges themselves.

"What did you think you were playing at, winding Marcus up like that?" Pucey was exasperated. "Are you that bloody thick that you can't tell when he's about to go completely mental?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I am, but I didn't do it on purpose," Higgs said.

"You know he has a temper," Pucey retorted.

"My bloody cat knows he has a temper," Abby rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, Marcus only has patience for one pussy and it isn't Nightshade," Pucey winked at her.

"Shut up you!" she laughed and punched him playfully. He grinned and shoved her back.

Higgs leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. "See, that's my problem," he said. "You two have been friends since First year, and Adrian, you and Flint knew each other before you came to Hogwarts. I never really hung out with you lot before I made the team."

"Hey, neither did I," said Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, as he took his seat at the table in front of Pucey. "And I know enough to stay clear of Flint on the warpath. Speaking of, sorry I didn't help out back on the train, mate," he frowned. "Couldn't get through that bloody crowd. Pity that, I would've loved to crack Wood's ugly mug. He's always saying he's the better Keeper."

"Took care of it for you, mate," Pucey winked and slapped Bletchley's hand.

"Any rate, Terry, that's why you've got to listen to us," Abby said. "We were telling you to shut it then."

"You always tell me to shut it," Higgs grinned.

"It's always for a reason!" Pucey retorted.

"Mr Pucey," Snape's voice called from the front of the room. The three of them jumped; they hadn't noticed him come in. "Class has commenced. Now, if you and your friends don't mind, I'll ask you to be quiet, unless you've something to share with everyone?"

"Yeah: Terry's a brainless git," Pucey said loudly without hesitation. It was met with snickers from the class - Slytherin and Gryffindor alike. Even Wood smirked, though Percy shook his head in disgust.

"Yes, well, that may be, though it has nothing to do with our lesson today," Snape folded his arms and then went on to explain the potion they would be brewing that class.

"Thanks, mate," Higgs said sarcastically removing his feet from the table. He flicked a stray piece of fluxweed at Pucey as he began to set up his cauldron.

"Pleasure," Pucey grinned. "And any rate, don't worry about Marcus. Abby'll sort him out."

"Oh, right, thanks for that," she replied, copying down Snape's instructions for them to share.

*

Howlers erupted all over the school that day. Flint and Pucey both received theirs during lunch though neither took a great deal of notice, having gotten their share of Howlers in their time. Flint did grind his knuckles at a few of his father's comments but Pucey positively laughed when his mother's voice began to go after her screams reached a record length of five minutes. All attention immediately shifted across the Great Hall as a double-volume Howler exploded on Fred and George. Molly Weasley sounded absolutely livid as she went on about receiving the letter on them not ten seconds after sending Errol with Ron's Howler.

Alicia's turn came in Charms class and her father's bellowing left everyone with their jaws hanging open and poor little Professor Flitwick hiding under his desk. Later that afternoon, right in the middle of Herbology, the sixth year Slytherins and Ravenclaws were left stifling their laughter as Higgs's mother's Howler suggested his friends to be a bad influence (she herself having been a Ravenclaw).

It wasn't until supper that evening that both Abby and Wood got a response. Dumbledore had just stood to address the student body when a large tawny owl and the Malfoy eagle owl came soaring in, each clutching a scarlet envelope in its beak. Several students were forced to cover their ears as the bone-chilling shrieks of Mrs Wood competed with the infuriated hissing of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said after both letters burst into flames. "Since Mrs Wood and Mrs Malfoy have said everything for me, let's eat."

Abby and Draco were both staring at the remains of the Howler as the food appeared on the table.

"Have you ever heard mother yell like that?" Abby asked him.

"Only at the cat," Draco conceded and stuffed his mouth full of roast chicken. On either side of him, Crabbe and Goyle were loading their plates with enough food to feed a small army.

Abby poked at the ash with her fork and watched it expectantly. Pucey looked at her and grinned.

"It doesn't do ought else once it's finished, Abby," he laughed. "You've seen enough of mine and Marcus's to know that." Flint laughed in agreement.

"As it happens, I don't quite know what to do with it," she replied. "I've never gotten one."

"Give it here," Pucey wiped his fingers on his trousers and reached for the ashes. "I'll add it to my collection."

Suddenly his hand was swatted aside and Violet Parkinson forced her way between him and Abby. She groaned under her breath; Violet was a terrible gossip.

"Abigail! It's so good to see you!" she squealed as her long brown ponytail flopped in Pucey's face. "We didn't get to catch up properly last night and I haven't been able to get you alone all day!"

Abby tried not to laugh at the faces Pucey was making behind Violet's back. She held her composure and half-smiled at her roommate. "Yes, dreadful shame, Violet. Don't know how we could have let that happen. We'll just have to set a time to put things right again."

"Oh, and you'll never believe what I've only just heard!" Violet continued excitedly, not catching Abby's meaning. "My darling sister Pansy overheard Padma and Parvati Patil talking at lunch - do you know them? No, I suppose you wouldn't. Second years - not important. Any rate, Parvati heard from Hermione Granger who heard from Ronald Weasley that his brothers have only been plotting nearly all summer to-"

Pucey knocked his pumpkin juice over and it spilled all down Violet's cloak and jumper. She gasped and leapt to her feet.

"Oh dear, would you look at that," Pucey feigned concern. "Terribly sorry, Violet. Me and my clumsiness."

"Nevermind, Adrian, nevermind. It's quite alright," Violet assured him, dabbing at her robes.

"I'll help you get cleaned up, shall I?" Abby stood, avoiding Flint's questioning glance. Violet made to thank her but clammed up as Abby grabbed her hand and dragged her away. Flint watched them go and a frown crossed his face.

"What did-"

"Pass the pumpkin juice, will you mate?" Pucey interrupted him, pointing to the jug. All eyes were on Flint as he obliged, still suspiciously watching Abby and Violet as they left the Great Hall.

"Did she say-"

"Who, Violet? Wasn't listening," Pucey steered him off topic again. "You know, gossip and girl-talk - not really my bag."

"She's never got ought important to say," Higgs nodded from the other side of Flint, trying to look uninterested.

"Didn't she say summat about Weasley?" Draco snickered and quickly hid his grin in his pumpkin juice.

Flint's nostrils flared and his stare burned a hole in Fred Weasley's back.

Pucey grabbed the Howler ashes and dumped them into Draco's mashed potatoes.

*

Once outside the Great Hall, Abby stopped and pulled Violet around to face her.

"If I didn't know your gob was bigger than your brain I'd swear you were trying summat on!" she hissed at the pumpkin juice-soaked girl.

"Abigail, what are you on about?" Violet was genuinely confused.

"If you only kept your ears open half as much as you do, you would still have heard who started the row last night," Abby explained.

"Fred Weasley had a go at your Marcus," Violet proved her skill. "But I don't see - oh."

"I spent the better part of the day between classes calming him down," the other continued. "And now you've run your mouth and the whole bloody mess could start again."

She began to walk and Violet quickly followed. "Abigail, I don't get it. Even if I have upset him again, I don't see what's put the bug in your bottom. I thought you liked it when Marcus fought over you, like it turns you on or summat?"

"It does," Abby smirked, "and it's not that."

They entered the washroom and Violet turned on the cold water and removed her cloak followed by her grey jumper. "Well, what then? Because if it were me, I'd say anything to have my big strong lad knock about Fred Weasley. Especially with what the Gryffindors are saying."

"What's that then?" Abby sat on one of the sinks.

"That he fancies you."

"You what?" Abby scoffed and wrinkled her nose. "That's a right laugh."

"That's what Oliver Wood was grumbling about to Percy Weasley in Potions this morning - honestly Abigail, don't you listen to anything?"

"I try not or I'd end up like you."

"Well, apparently it's all Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet can talk about," Violet went on, ignoring Abby's comment and scrubbing her robes. "Though I don't know first hand; I'll have to speak with our fourth year girls. But I heard Oliver, at any rate, and he heard from Fred himself, so there you are."

"Go on," Abby hopped off the sink and turned to fix her hair in the mirror. "Everything you just said is completely mad - common sense would tell you that."

"Well, you can believe what you like, love, but I'm only saying what I've heard," Violet said and wrung the water from her robes and then moved on to her jumper. "As for me, I believe it. Why else would he have cast that spell on you, hey? Remember that?"

"No, I don't," the other shot back in a snotty tone.

"Well, nobody seems to know why he did it-"

"Because I insulted his family, you daft cow!" Abby rolled her eyes and pushed a blonde curl back into place.

"Aye, but Weasleys get insulted all the time so they've got a thick skin about that sort of thing," Violet insisted. "No, he definitely fancies you. It's the same as knocking a girl's books down or chucking a dirty great spider in her lap. Here, how did Marcus say he fancied you?"

"He took me behind the changerooms after a Quidditch match and-"

"Right, right, sorry I asked," Violet wrinkled her nose.

"He was all sweaty from knocking about nearly all the Hufflepuff team too," Abby said dreamily. "Brutal game. Made Captain next year because of it."

Violet was staring at her. "I'd say you were sick only I see what you mean. He's got that...darkness to him that's dead sexy. Plus he's such a rebel, like the rules don't apply to him, you know?"

Both girls sighed heavily.

"Hey, you!" Violet snapped back into reality. "You put me off topic. Why don't you want Marcus to have a go at Fred? You aren't afraid of him, like he'll cast another spell?"

The other snorted in reply.

"What is it then?"

"Any number of things," Abby shrugged, leaning closer to the mirror and wiping a minute smudge from her nose. "A very bloody good reason being that I just got a Howler from Mother and I don't want one from Daddy too."

"Hmm, there is that," Violet draped her cloak over a sink and her jumper over another, and then turned to the mirror as well. "Must keep the trust fund in mind."

"Yes and besides that and the lecture from Snape, I thought perhaps it would be a daft idea to let Marcus go completely mental and start a row in the Great Hall with all the teachers watching, wouldn't it?" She took one last inspection in the mirror and smiled in satisfaction.

"Well, at least it's a sensible reason," Violet adjusted her ponytail. "I thought maybe you had a crush on him."

"Who?"

"Fred Weasley."

"Don't be daft."

"I were only joking!" Violet laughed.

"Yes, well, the next time you've got summat to tell me, just say you need to speak with me, all right?" Abby had her hands on her hips.

"Mum's the word till we're alone, darling," Violet drew her fingers across her lips.

"I'm sure," the other went to the door. "Good night."

A thought occurred to Violet as she watched Abby leave. "Abigail!" she called after her. "Does this mean Adrian spilled his juice on purpose?"

*

"Throw her in the lake!"

Fred and George slowly turned their heads to look at Lee. "I meant 'what are we going to do about Oliver?', Lee," George restated himself. "He hasn't spoken to us all day."

"Oh. I thought you meant-"

"We know what you thought, you git," Fred laughed. "But I reckon we'd best put those plans on hold for a while at least."

"You what? Why?"

"Because if we do ought now, Alicia and Angelina will have a field day broadcasting all the gory details of Fred's dirty little affair with Abby Malfoy," George grinned.

Fred shook his head. "Honestly, the rubbish those birds come up with."

The three of them were sitting off in one corner of the Gryffindor common room. Sitting far enough away so that they couldn't overhear them were Angelina and Alicia, immersed in their whispered conversation. Fred squirmed every time they stole a glance at him and returned with a look of his own.

"That's not even the lot of what you have to worry about," George motioned over his shoulder as Percy entered the common room through the portrait hole. He glared at the twins and then quickened his pace.

"Bloody hell," Fred grumbled. "Everybody's taking this so seriously. It's doing me head in; I've got to get out of here. Up to sneaking some nosh from the kitchen?"

"Aye, you're on," George grinned and the three of them rose and hurried to the portrait hole before Percy could come back and demand to know what they thought they were doing. As they passed the sofas in front of the fireplace they overheard a bit of Oliver Wood's distressed conversation with Katie Bell.

"Violent tendencies? She can't be serious!"

"Now, Oliver, people don't always mean what's said in Howlers. I'm sure your mother was only-"

"You don't understand, Katie. I'd rather fail every exam this year than give up Quidditch! Violent tendencies - honestly, what is she playing at? She's trying to scare me, she is, but she's bloody mad. I can tell you and her and anyone else with full confidence that fight had nought to do with Quidditch!"

TBC