RP Gryffindor Common Room

A: I'm still annoyed.

R: Amy, I haven't even picked up a magazine since I first kissed you.

She smiled at him.

A: Good.

With a sigh, she opened her book.

Remus sensed he was still in the metaphorical doghouse, but her smile relieved him.

J: Hey. Just out of interest... when did you guys first kiss?

Amy closed her book again.

A: Er... Ages ago. In the boys dorm, not romantic. He got all huffy at me.

She remarked, ruffling Lupin's hair.

J: When you say ages ago...?

R: Um... beginning of term...

J: That long ago?!

A: Yeah, and you didn't suspect a thing.

She rolled her eyes.

A: You're rubbish at keeping secrets anyway, so it's a good thing we didn't let on.

Lol at her, because they had a much bigger secret up their sleeve.

J: Yeah. Good thing my friends don't have many secrets.

James winked at Remus.

Amy didn't notice.

A: Where's Peter?

She looked around.

A: Never mind that, where's Sirius?

J: Last time I saw Peter he was heading for the third floor cleaning cupboard, and Sirius... not since lunch. He left with Evangel- oh, that dirty dog.

A: Oh the poor girl.

She sighed, cursing Sirius' womanizing ways.

R: I don't get it.

James patted Remus' head.

J: Of course you don't. I'm betting they'll both walk in at teatime with fuzzy hair and big grins.

A: And we'll look at them condescendingly.

She showed them what that face looked like.

R: Well what have they been- oh. I get it now.

James rolled his eyes.

A: This is why I love him.

She pinched his cheek.

A: So innocent.

J: Ooh, love ey?

Remus went red.

R: Shut up.

Amy did not go red.

A: He's jealous.

James went quiet.

J: Shut up.

A: I'm sorry, Potter.

She ruffled his hair.

James elbowed her playfully in the ribs.

J: You're horrible to me.

A: You tickled me this morning.

She sighed.

A: Did anyone get a Daily Prophet this morning? I'm sure there's a Christmas edition.

R: I think Geoff did.

He nodded to a younger boy, sat with a friend in the corner.

Amy stood, exchanged a few words with the boy, and came back with a copy of the paper. She smiled at the main headline (Christmas Bun in The Oven: Minister and Partner Expecting First Child!). Then she turned the page and muttered an expletive.

A: Shit.

R: What is it?

J: What, is that Quidditch player you fancy getting married?

She shook her head solemnly, showing her friends the headline. It was over a moving image of The Dark Mark.

You-Know-Who Attack in Taharoa

A: New Zealand. 6 muggle-borns, in one house.

She cursed again.