Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
IT TOOK ONLY THIRTY MINUTES OF meticulous scrubbing for Aisling to resent James for ever landing her in detention. With an elbow that now ached beyond belief, a thin layer of sweat developing on her skin and a headache forming between her brows - the Ravenclaw couldn't help but glare at the dark haired boy aside her. What made matters worse was they had only cleaned three cauldrons in the time they had spent there, and still had approximately twenty-five to go.
James didn't outwardly appear all too affected by their penance, a content expression on his face as he worked on removing some burnt crust of leftover potion that had formed a ring around the rim of the cauldron before him. Instead of his uniform, the Gryffindor had switched to wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans. His attire alone only proved to further annoy the blonde, as she was now exposed to the muscles in his arm that poked out even more than they usually would with how hard he was cleaning.
Blinking rapidly when she realised she was staring, Aisling redirected her attention to the task at hand and lightly shook her head, admonishing herself. This was James Potter, she reminded herself, chief arsehole of Gryffindor. The very same boy who was the reason she was currently spending her Wednesday evening cleaning cauldrons in the first place. But Aisling was still a young woman, and more often that not that night her hormones overtook her rationality.
What made matters worse is that she would have been cleaning all of the pots on her own, but he had heroically set off and acted out until he too was given detention, just to join her in her suffering. James Potter was someone she was finding increasingly hard to stay annoyed at.
"What's your favourite sweet treat?" He asked suddenly, the sudden sound of his voice breaking the suffocating silence.
Aisling frowned at the randomness of his question, thinking for a second before deciding to answer. At the very least, small talk would pass the time. Although she had no intentions of entertaining him. "Um... I like cauldron cakes. Why?"
James hummed at her answer, glancing briefly in her direction with a confident grin. "I was just wondering what I should buy you from Honeydukes when we go on our date."
"Oh, our date. Of course," she scoffed sarcastically. "In your dreams, Potter."
"I actually did have a dream about it," he admitted candidly, setting down his cauldron now that it seemed visibly clean enough to pass Slughorn's inspection. The Potions professor had left the two students to fulfil detention on their own, but not before confiscating their wands before leaving. "It was amazing, we had a whale of a time. It got weird at the end though, you turned into a bird and tried to gouge my eyes out with your claws."
"I wouldn't rule that out if I were you."
James snickered at her retort, dropping the scrubbing sponge onto the table and flexing his fingers to regain feeling in his hand. It appeared he too was feeling the physical strain of their work. "So, Hogsmeade next weekend?"
