InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "He's Fanty. You're Mingo."

kenseigh dumas. (creamandstars) wrote in renascentyears,
@ 2008-09-12 09:57:00

Entry tags:

james-potter, kenseigh-dumas

Characters; Kenseigh & James.
Date/Time; Friday afternoon, before dinner.
Where; Quidditch pitch.
Warnings; PG-13 for now.
Status; in progress.

There had never been much of a difference between a free period and study hall for Kenseigh. She always found herself with a pile of books in the library or crashing a study hall if there was one being held in the great hall. In the past week, however, she'd found herself trudging through the snow down to the quidditch pitch. She'd been counting down the days until Ravenclaw's first match since the first day of classes. The number was getting increasingly smaller and she couldn't help but feel disgustingly excited over it.

Though she had threatened, she hadn't actually organised a practice during the holiday. For a moment, looking out over the pitch, she wished she had - they would be so out of practice. Kenseigh had satiated herself by spending nearly every day practicing with her mother in the makeshift pitch they'd set up together when she was eight. The veritable icebox the highlands had been never stopped them. Much to her father's dismay.

Even now, the cold weather didn't seem to touch her as she stared out over the pitch. She had bundled herself up in her winter jacket, scarf, and gloves before wandering out of the castle. Her Aquaredics was hugged tightly to her chest as the ideas for plays ran vividly through her mind. The fact that it had started snowing again didn't seem to bother her at all.

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jamesthegreat
2008-09-13 12:52 am UTC (link)

He didn't find it at all strange that he still hadn't managed to memorize his seventh-year class schedule. The way James figured it if it was important then it would have been worth remembering, and since he didn't remember whether he currently had class or not, it was obvious that the class wasn't important ... or aka in the world of James S. Potter not important truly meant not worth his time. Which was why he was heading down to the pitch with his brand new and spiffing Aquaredics. He'd wanted to get it himself, however, with his loss of money with a miscalculated bet with Baddock, spending it on sweet, and then on Christmas presents; James had never managed to get himself one. There was a slight pride to the matter, nevertheless, pride usually went out the door when it came to his grandmother Molly. It had come along with his annual sweater-that he was currently wearing under his winter cloak-from his grandpa Arthur and his godfather. His grandmother had given him a look and that had been that. Not that she had had to. James, despite a bit miffed that he wasn't able to show his parents that he really COULD manage his money to get what he wanted, had been truly greatful. He'd spent most of the hols on it. When he wasn't listening to the music Suzuki sent him.

Strange that. James had spent a lot of time mulling over it and he'd decided that he still didn't like the bloke. But he'd try a bit harder than he had been for Paddy's benefit and as a thank you. No one could ever say that James S. Potter was gracious.

Mostly oblivious to the snow (because, really, even he couldn't pull off hat-hair), started pulling on his gloves before heading onto the pitch. When he looked up. He saw Kenseigh. A goofy grin managed to settle on his lips. He'd though about her a lot during the hols. Kicking himself for not managing to grab her floo code. Nearly strangling Lily for telling his mother why he hadn't been playing Creed nonestop. James had been thinking about Kenseigh a lot and that kiss, and that goofy grin of is wasn't going away. He didn't mind ... much.

He did manage to kill it as he walked further onto the pitch, trying his best to look cool and sauve and how James S. Potter was supposed to act like.

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creamandstars
2008-09-13 05:26 pm UTC (link)

The thing about James was, he was a hard man do miss. It was quite possibly his most notable trait. Even in a crowd he was easy to spot - maybe sometimes even especially in one. It would have taken the force of a blizzard for a blind man to have not noticed him as he walked out into the quidditch pitch. He was a stark contrast to the pristine white scenery that surrounded Kenseigh. Still, it was hard to say whether it was that or the way his strut was so damn smarmy that it would make anyone wonder where he had hidden a canary that size.

Kenseigh could feel an all-too-familiar flutter in her chest as he came into view. Naturally, her focus turned nearly entirely to him. She was oblivious to the fact that if her cheeks might have blushed if they weren't already red, and to the smile that crept across her face - the very one that earned her far too many questions each time it appeared (which was a lot). Needless to say, James had crossed Kenseigh's mind often during her winter holiday.

There had been more than a few times she had wished that his face would have appeared outside her bedroom window. Of course, that would have earned him an immediate and permanent banning from the house from grandmère Dumas. Well, if her father hadn't killed him first, that is. It was also a sign that she shouldn't be allowed to read Romeo & Juliet ever again.

Through the haze of the giddy schoolgirl she would chastise herself for being, a thought started tugging at the back of her mind. She wasn't particularly saddened he hadn't attempted a Romeo-style visitation. She probably would have just screamed and hexed him anyways; the way the story would have gone if Juliet had had a wand. James didn't really need much more of a deterrent to do nice things, either. Still, she couldn't help the disappointment that started to creep into her mind that she hadn't heard from him at all. The stupid smile began to slide off her lip as she watched him walk into the pitch - walk right passed her without a word!

That disappointment turned to annoyance. She found herself wishing she had grabbed a quaffle from the equipment room. She would have greatly enjoyed throwing it right at that big head of his at that moment. Quidditch had been the one place she had been free of the danger of him creeping into her thoughts. Now, here he was, strutting in like he owned the place, encroaching on her reverie. Her quidditch pitch! How dare he.

"Oi, Captain Smarmy!" She called out over the distance, certain that he could hear her in the silence. She started walking towards him, not completely disregarding the possibility of throwing a snowball at him. "You're messing up my field!"

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jamesthegreat
2008-09-15 04:13 pm UTC (link)

James nearly hesitated in his step at her words. The look on his features flickering and she would have seen his uncertainty if he hadn't had his back to her. However, he was who he was because if he wasn't he wouldn't have been able to rally as quickly as he did. Therefore, when he turned towards her-which he WOULD have with something smooth and witty if she'd just given him the bloody chance, the damn bloody girl always trying to ruin is bloody groove and if she ... bloody girl-it was with an obviously fake look of surprised that was mostly ruined by the shite-eating grin on his face that said he knew he'd gotten to her and irritated her. "Kenseigh!. I didn't even see you there! What a coincidence that we're both at the pitch at the same time! What's that about this being your pitch, hmm?" The level of pratty git and disgusting smarm would have been enough to make Slughorn weep in joy. A comparison that wouldn't have irked James as much as one would have thought since Slughorn was the ONLY Slytherin James could tolerate, and even rather liked. After all, Slughorn seemed to be the ONLY Slytherin intelligent enough to give him his just due. Even if it WAS mostly because he was Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's son. Percy Weasley's nephew. Lily Evans and James Potter grandson ... Yeah, James was getting over that 'mostly'. Slowly.

It occurred to James-in one of his rare moments of forethought-that egging Kenseigh on wasn't the thing to do if he wanted to snog her and then give her the Christmas present he'd gotten her and then snog her some more and then ask her how here hols and been (yes, he did care) and then ... There was a trend that involved snogging. Might as well end it there because it looked like she was saying something to him.

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creamandstars
2008-09-17 10:59 pm UTC (link)

Kenseigh's eyes narrowed at James. She was beginning to develop a better understanding on why people spoke so fondly of punching him. It was a possibility that he hadn't seen her, and an even bigger one that he didn't know she was down there to begin with (a certainty, even), but she wasn't ready to admit that.

"You already had your game. Mine is coming up." Kenseigh reasoned. It was better than her just throwing a because I said so out there. "Therefor, it's mine."

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking rather smug and authoritative in her own right. The look came with sticking her nose in the air in a way that certain English members of her family would swear their lives on came from the French blood in her veins.

Something about him made her pause in her haughty attitude. More specifically, it was his broom. It looked exactly alike the one held in her hand at that very moment.

"You got an Aquaredics for Christmas?"

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jamesthegreat
2008-09-18 04:42 pm UTC (link)

"No one said that we can't practice against each other. We don't even have to use your moves." James couldn't help grin slightly at her tone ... and the crossing of her arms. The movement brought the attention of the eyes. Still, despite the fact that it was a nice movement, it did block sight and besides James had been raised as a gentleman. If anything was said about him-and a lot of things were said about him, not all of them nice-it had to be admitted that James respected women. Especially if they weren't Slytherin. Which was why even though his gaze had been caught, his eyes skidded quickly back towards her face. And he was blushing. At the moment he didn't quite care that was blushing because he really couldn't stop grinning and he was grinning because, but Merlin, didn't she look bewitching all smug like that. He, however, had to ruin the entire affect of his actually turning red and goofy grin by adding, "Even if we did, wouldn't really want them."

James momentarily blinked at the sudden subject change but nodded, "Yeah. M'Nanna Molly got it for me. Cool innit?" His grin returned; sure she already had one and had known how cool it was way before he had but James was conveniantly ignoring that fact.

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