Theodore
“Where is it?” I shouted as I dug through my trunk.
“Calm down, it’s here somewhere,” my best mate, James, reassured me. Ever since we first met, in detention in our first year, we’ve been at each other’s sides.
“I’m already late,” I reached for the small bottle of brandy I kept on my nightstand. I tend to drink when I get stressed.
“Hey!” James smacked the bottle out of my hand, “You need to calm down, this is not worth getting worked up about!”
“It’s our anniversary, James.” I protested, and continued to look through my trunk, “Wouldn’t you want to be on time to your date if it was you and Alice’s anniversary?”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t get drunk because of it.” James muttered under his breath. He must’ve thought I couldn’t hear him, but I could just barely make out his words.
“How long have you two been together? Two years?” James asked.
“Yes, and I don’t want that to stop because she thinks I forgot our anniversary. So keep looking.”
“Mate, you started dating her as a prank. If she wanted to dump you, she would’ve.” James reminded me.
“I found it!” Fred walked in, waving a book over his head in triumph.
“Thank you so much,” I shouted as I ran up to him, snatched the book from his hands, and dashed off. I ran past huddles of students, bumping into Vincent Goyle along the way. He dropped his books and his inkwell shattered, exploding all over his robes.
“Watch it, asshole!” He called after me, mopping up the splotches of ink.
“Sorry, mate.” I said, still running.
When I finally reached the Quidditch field, the hot afternoon sun was shining down on the players. The Gryffindor team was walking away from the field, clearly exhausted, and the Hufflepuff team was walking on, ready to begin practice. I noticed Charles Zabini staring at Cynthia Thomas-Finnigan as they passed each other. But then another caught my eye. Her name was Victoir Weasley, and she was my girlfriend.
The date lasted all through the afternoon. When I could tell it was drawing to a close, I said, “I got you something,” I handed her the book, which I had wrapped using some rendition of The Incarcerous Spell, while her back was turned, “I know you’ve been wanting one.”
She unwrapped it cautiously, “Magical Me, by Gilderoy Lockhart?” she stared at me in disbelief, “You got me this?”
“You do like it, don’t you?” I looked at her with puppy eyes, which was very easy, because I am a metamorphmagus.
She pushed me away, “Stop that,” she complained, “You’re going to make me pity you.”
“That’s the whole point,” I laughed and kissed her, “Happy Anniversary, Vicky.”
“We’re going to be late for dinner,” she started off on the path leading up to the castle, “I’ll save you a seat.”
“That’s implying that you’ll get there first,” I said, catching up with her.
“Obviously,” she ran down the path, inside, and into the Great Hall, where students were starting to take their seats. I arrived soon after, gasping for breath. She motioned for me to join her at the Gryffindor table, next to all the other sixth years.