Atelophobia

4_ insults

Lenore

"I hate to admit it, but Wilson stopped bothering me after Nott said something a few days ago," I tell Padma as the Gryffindor catches my eye across the courtyard.

We were just sitting there, soaking up the last days of summer, so I was thankful he didn't come over.

Samuel Wilson is a year younger and has always found a way to talk to me since the beginning of the year.

He was really nice and friendly at first, but soon turned extremely clingy.

Sometimes I wish guys could just disappear so we don't have to deal with them.

"I told you the fake boyfriend thing would've worked," she nudged me. "And if he still doesn't stop, just say you're lesbian."

I chuckle at her idea, but she does have a point.

"Let's hope I never have to speak to him again in the first place," I sigh.

"Him or Nott, for that matter. Though I doubt I'll be able to avoid him," I add.

"He's still that insufferable?" She asks with concern.

"As always," I say.

"Too bad the Weasley twins aren't still here—they could've taught him a lesson," she suggests.

"I wish," I smile at the thought.

"Hey, only one more year, and then you'll never have to see Nott for the rest of your life."

"If I can get through this year first," I joke.

"Oh, I forgot to ask! How were Quidditch tryouts?" She says.

I tried to get my 13 year old brother to try outs, too, but he said Quidditch was a waste of time.

I know he only said that because it's something I like, but it was refreshing to hear Padma's reminder that she cared.

"They were great! Thomas Hughes is the new Keeper and Sophie Brooks is a Beater—they're both fifth years.

"I can't wait to see the match against Hufflepuff," she says.

"I'm actually really looking forward to it!
Michael actually asked if I wanted to help him with the strategies," I say.

"That's amazing!"

"I know! I know I'm technically not team captain, but I'm glad I can help."

"You're going to do great. I still think you should've been captain instead of Michael," she says.

"I know, but-"

"You won't have time with N.E.W.Ts, I know," she says understandingly.

"I should at least have time for the games. And on the weekends I can work on the plays, which I need to talk to Michael about soon."

"You think we have a chance of winning this year?" She asks.

"It looks promising! Gryffindor will be the hardest to beat for sure."

"Cedric is really good, but they have a lot of young new players," I continue.

"And then there's Slytherin, who just repeats the same strategies thinking it works and playing dirty."

"Trash talking our team already, Dalton?" Says a deep voice nearby.

"Go awat, Nott," Padma sneers.

I turn to see him leaning on the outdoor castle windowsill, clearly not budging.

"It's not trash talking if it's the truth," I state.

"Oooo," Blaise laughs at his friend.

Nott turns with an annoyed glare toward him.

"You're on the team too, mate."

Blaise just puts his hands up in defense.

Nott leans closer through the stone archway, so much so that he could hardly be a foot away.

"We'll see about that, cara mia," he smirks as he tilts his head.

"Have fun being beat by Gryffindor in a few weeks," I grin back at him sarcastically.

"I'm sure Malfoy would love to be beat by Potter again--"

"And I would love if you could learn when to close your big mouth. Or do I need to make you?"

"I'd like to see you try, Nott," I challenge.

He pushes back from the windowsill, tongue rolling against his cheek. "You're going to regret saying that."

I kick myself internally. Who knows how else he's going to make my life miserable, now.

"Ciao," he waves sarcastically at us as he walks away with Blaise.

I roll my eyes, turning back to Padma.

"You see what I'm talking about? He just comes up to me, insults me, and leaves."

"That's men for you," she shrugs.

"Let's go do something else instead of wasting our time thinking about them, hm?" She suggests.

"Maybe some exploding snap?"

"Sure," I agree, packing up my stuff.

At least I have my best friend to distract me from the anger that builds up in me whenever Nott is around.

"Just one more year," I say to myself, shaking my head.

One more year of dealing with that asshole.