Black

VII // How to Not Be a Cliche - a Novel NOT By Me

Monday

September 7, 1977

Great Hall

I'm sitting in the great hall, rather unhappily, I might add, all by my lonesome at the end of the Gryffindor table. Far (yet too close for comfort) to my left, I can see Black sitting across from Dorcas, in my rightful spot, so obviously, I am pretty annoyed. Merlin's fluffy knickerbockers, I can see them laughing conspiratorially at me!

I had detention with Black last night, and let me tell you, it was terrible. He spent the whole time trying to talk to me, which was awful, and I spent the whole time effectively ignoring him (aside from asking why, after all the detentions he's had, he can't polish a bloody trophy correctly, which then led to me telling him exactly where he could stick his rag), but anyway. I am not looking forward to our rendezvous, or as he affectionately refers to it, our date tonight.

Oh! Here comes Mark Abery, the hot fifth year that I have a niggling suspicion my precious Charlotte has a small crush on. I couldn't say why he's coming over, but, oh, look, he's going to sit down. I'm not complaining. I hope he doesn't mind if I write and talk.

"Hi, Evelyn is it?" He asks as he sits down next to me.

"That's Miss Bishop to you, Mark Abery," I say, attempting to bring out my inner McGonagall. It's a well-known fact that within every Gryffindor there is a McGonagall just waiting to burst out.

He looks surprised. "Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Bishop, I, uh, didn't realise that-"

"Settle down, settle down. I'm pulling your leg." Works every time. "It's just Eva."

He smiles awkwardly, "Oh, okay then, just Eva. I would introduce myself but it would seem as if you already know my name...?"

Ahh. Probably should avoid mentioning that every single female in the school (McGonagall and Pince excluded) (most likely) has thought about how beautiful his face is at least once.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mark?"

"Oh," he says, grabbing a plate and pulling some toast onto it. "Well I've been struggling a bit with some of the charms we've been learning, and so I asked Flitwick if he could tutor me, but he said that I should ask you if you would be able to do so."

"Did he indeed?" Flitwick, you beautiful elf.

"I'm terribly sorry to just ask you this out of the blue, and it's alright if you've got better stuff to do, I know I would, but I've got it in my head that I want to be an auror when I leave Hogwarts, and to do that I need to get at least an E in my OWL, and so it would be terribly good of you to help out at all. The professor said you were the best."

I absentmindedly glanced to my left, to see Black staring at Mark with narrowed eyes and Dorcas laughing at him. It seems she's gotten over the mucus incident then.

"Uh, um, Eva?"

Ahh yes, Mark. "Sure, Mark. I could help you out, with such a compelling argument and all."

He starts to spread plum jam onto his toast. "You would? That would be bloody fantastic! Oh, pardon me, sorry. That would be really great!"

What a gentleman! Black should take lessons from this fine specimen of a human being. How sad that hanging out with Remus hasn't rubbed off on him. "No problem. Do you want to owl me what you need help with and I'll tell you when I'm free. I just got out of the hospital wing, you see, and I have a wee bit more work to do than usual."

"Oh yes," said Mark. "I'd heard you got hit." He blushed, "I, uh, well hate to ask this, but I also heard that-" He suddenly stopped abruptly at the sight of something over my left shoulder.