Rochelle Gets All The Guys

Chapter Three.

When God created man...

She was joking.

-Unknown

There were shouts of dismay and confusion. Slytherins and Gryffindors were glaring at each other, as if thinking that the other house definitely didn't deserve this gorgeous girl, while Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs just looked glum. Rochelle gingerly removed the old hat from her head (she didn't know how many heads had tried on that hat, and didn't want to risk damaging her hair by keeping it on longer than necessary). Dumbledore marched up onto the stage and started having a conversation with the the Sorting Hat. Finally, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore raised his hand for quiet and said,

"The Sorting Hat has expressed the belief that it would be best if Ms. Adams were to be in both the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses," he waved his wand in the air and a schedule popped into his hand, "Ms. Adams, this is your unique schedule. You're classes have been evenly distributed between Gryffindor and Slytherin. You will alternate staying in the Houses, spending one week in Gryffindor, one week in Slytherin, et cetera. As for things that you must be in a certain house for, such as Quidditch Teams and which table to sit at during dining hours, that decision will be up to you. You may now join the feast."

And with that, Rochelle got off the stool, a little shaky, but trying to keep her superb posture, and walked a few steps, unsure of where to sit, until she saw Harry wave to her uncertainly. She smiled and took a seat next to him.

* * * * *

Rochelle sighed. It had been a long night with the messed up Sorting and everything. She was a Gryffindor this week, which was why she was lying on a four poster bed between Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. She had met and deciphered what she thought of Ron Weasley (Strange looking dork. Would go great with Granger.); Fred and George (Hilarious troublemakers); Dean Thomas (Nice boy. Kind of boring, though); Seamus Finnigan (cute Irish accent, but not as cute as Harry's English one.); Ginny Weasley (Obviously has a crush on Harry, but in no way competition.)... And all the other Gryffindors. They were a very nice cheery lot, but a little nervous around her, 'the Slyther-Gryff', as she was called. It was Friday, and there were no classes on the Sorting night, of course, so the Gryffindors had gotten cheated into only two more days of her, and that was the weekend, so she didn't have to hang out with them if she didn't want to.

She could get to know the Slytherins tomorrow. She'd had her eye on one with pale green eyes and silverish hair. She was pretty sure his name was Draco. Now, she didn't like him the way she liked Harry, oh, no. Harry. She had a major crush on Harry. It might even be love. As for Hermione, she was so much better than her. Harry would pick her over Hermione any day. But when it came to a Slytherin boy (and all the other boys in the school, for that matter) there was nothing ever wrong with a little harmless flirting, right?

* * * * *

Rochelle rose the next morning at 7:30 and pulled on a tight, white t-shirt with a glittery strawberry picture and the word "FRESH" in loopy silver writing on the front, and a pair of dark blue flare jeans. Over that she put on a forest-green robe and went down to the common room. There, Harry and Ron were engrossed in a game of wizard chess. She came up behind Harry, who was being clobbered by Ron, and whispered something in his ear. He smiled and moved his queen.

"Checkmate!" he shouted.

"Hey, no fair, you got help from Rochelle!" Ron shouted indignantly.

Rochelle noticed that whenever Ron looked at her, his ears got very red.

"I was champion chess player back in North Dakota," Rochelle said proudly. Ron sniggered. "What?" Rochelle asked indignantly, putting her hands on her hips and glaring.

"Your accent. Its so... American!" Ron laughed.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Rochelle asked menacingly, taking her wand out of her pocket. She hated it when people made fun of her, Rochelle Adams. The nerve!

"No, no. It's cool," said Ron gently, backing down.

"Good," said Rochelle, turning around. "Harry, I'm going down to breakfast, would you like to come too?" she said, fluttering her, long, curly, black eyelashes.

"Ummm, no thanks, Rocky. I told Hermione I would write her a letter after the Sorting. I have to do that now," he said, "She'll want to know all about that whole Slyther-Gryff thing." And with that, he got up and headed to the Owlery.

Hmph, Rochelle thought as she walked out of the portrait hole (acting as if Ron weren't there), in what she thought was the direction to the Great Hall , this whole Stealing-Harry thing is going to be harder than I thought.

* * * * *

Rochelle had been walking for a while now. She thought she knew how to get to the Great Hall from the Gryffindor Tower, but apparently she didn't, on account of she had been wandering the castle for about ten minutes with no Great Hall in sight. As she turned a corner she bumped right into... Draco. Draco smiled his trademark sexy half-smile and ran his fingers through his shimmering, silverish hair, checking her out.

"Hey Rochelle." he said.

"Hi," she said nonchalantly, trying not to focus on how great he looked in the forest-green robe that exactly matched hers. Rochelle figured she'd better know what Draco's personality was truly like before getting into a relationship, even though Draco was just going to be an off-the side guy while she tried to steal Harry, so she took a little bottle of what looked like the American Muggle breath-freshener, Sweet Breath, and put a few drops on the tip of her tongue, making sure not to swallow it. She then promptly pressed her lips against Draco's. They were so soft... Rochelle carefully stuck her tongue into Draco's mouth, using her sexiest kiss to make him open it and let the liquid on her tongue go onto Draco's (she tried to get the picture out of her mind of him wearing nothing but a few strategically placed cotton balls.) Focus... thought Rochelle.

Rochelle quickly pulled away and acted as if nothing had happened

"So, are you on the Dark Side?" She was totally against it, and wanted to make sure that Draco was, too.

"My whole family is on the Dark side. My father is right in Voldemort's inner circle. Only he knows where Voldemort is hiding. But me? I'm not so sure. I'm supposed to be all for the Dark Side, but..." He paused. "... Deep inside, I hate hurting people even though I seem really bitter and look like I enjoy it on the outside. It's just because my father would torture, even kill me, if he found out I admired people like Potter." He blurted out in a robot-like voice. He couldn't believe it! He had just spilled out his biggest, most horrible secret to Rochelle! And he had acted all mushy and goody-goody about Gryffindors! Ewww? How the hell had Rochelle managed to get him to say that?

"Please. Don't tell anyone," he said quickly.

Calmly, Rochelle said, "I won't tell anyone if you find out where Voldemort is from your father and tell me."

Draco smiled slyly and said simply, a plan forming in his mind, "I'll find out if you'll have sex with me."

Rochelle gasped and said desperately, "If you don't find out, I'll spill your secret!"

"My secret doesn't matter as much as the world," Draco said. "I won't find out unless you have sex with me. If you do, you'll be able to save the world."

Rochelle thought hard and finally said, "Fine, find out and I'll have sex with you!"

"Good." said Draco. And with that, he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her roughly, hungrily, his tongue teasing hers to come out, running it along her smooth lips.

He's so good at kissing, Rochelle thought ecstatically, but she refused to let him french her after what he was forcing her too do. Draco broke away and asked, "So, how did you get me to say all that stuff?"

Rochelle smiled and pulled out her so-called breath freshener. "This is 10-second Veritaserum. It makes you tell the truth for ten seconds, and I wanted to make sure you weren't on the Dark Side before getting to know you. I wasn't sure if you were, since it seemed like most Slytherins are. And, apparently, you're not!" she said, twirling around, wondering if she had won that battle, and leaving a scowling Draco pondering how to get his dad to spill where Voldemort was.