Bad Decisions | Fred Weasley

Thirteen: An Exercise in Evasion

There were students taking defense lessons in the come and go room. Practically every Gryffindor was part of it, Alicia told her by accident and Angelina had to explain that some people were worried that Sylvie would say something to her brother. It was a painfully awkward exchange.

"No it's alright." She said, "I get it."

Angelina looked so pitiful.

"I'm really sorry Sylvie. I know you wouldn't say anything but it's Harry, you know."

Harry didn't like her.

"I really don't mind. It's a decent concern."

In all honesty, she thought it was funny they were taking orders from a fifth-year. Sure he was taking initiative and all but it really did piss her off. She had to find something else to do on Wednesday nights.

So she began going to the library again. Not in the back where no one would venture to, but in a sweet spot right in the middle, just against the windows on the left wall. She read. Textbooks and muggle books and the same paragraph from Voyages With Vampires over and over again.

She read until the student monitor had to come tell her the library was about to close. It was the same boy every time, a Hufflepuff with thick rimmed glasses and a mole just below the outer corner of his eye. He always told her to leave her books, that he'd put them away for her, and the next week he'd ask how she liked Lockhart's writing. She always told him the same thing, that it got better with every reading. She'd never had an inside joke before.

He only asked her name when he finally had to, when she checked out a book on Muggle Literature.

"Quentin's sister?"

She nodded. Had he not seen the flyers from the beginning of the year?

"Well I never would've guessed."

"Thanks."

"Sorry I didn't mean—"

"I wasn't being funny," She let the corner of her mouth tuck up in an almost-smile, "I'm flattered."

A smile slowly grew on his face and he let out an awkward laugh like a cough, throwing his head down. He rubbed the hair on the back of his head and blushed.

"Are you a sixth year?" She asked.

He shook his head, "Seventh."

"How come I've never seen you?"

He shrugged.

"It's weird," Sylvia continued, "We've been going to school together for seven years and I didn't know you."

He shrugged again.

"But you knew my brother."

Shrug.

"What?" She scoffed at his gesture.

"Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Sorry I—"

"What's your name?"

He blinked like she had just given him whiplash, his brown eyes focusing on her face.

"Brendan."

"That's a good name."

A sweet giggle escaped his throat as a smile resurfaced on his lips, showing a set of perfectly straight teeth.

"Thank you. Sylvia's a good name too."

She didn't say anything for a moment, letting her eyes wander over Brendan's face, and after some time she had decided that he was very cute. He noticed and chuckled again.