Chapter 598 - Frank Conversation’s Ⅳ (1/2)
The news of the incident in the Gryffindor common room had gotten all around the school by the time Monday afternoon rolled around. However, Rowan was much too busy to try and make amends between them. There was patrolling, tutoring, and the countless number of other tasks that had her running around Hogwarts that before she knew it almost the entire week had gone by.
However, finally, things were starting to settle down, and her first actual free period presented itself. After Advanced Arithmancy, Rowan hurried off to the library to study. She had not gone to the library since the school term had started to busy fulfilling her duties as Prefect. She did not even have time to read for pleasure to busy wrangling in the snakelings. No wonder Prefect Pizarro looked dead tired towards the end of the year. And September was not even over, but she was already ready to throw in the towel and call it quits for good!
Letting out a loud sigh, Rowan makes her way down the long corridor, before entering the library. The prickly librarian, Madam Irma Pince, a dark-waired witch with suspicious eyes loudly tsk's her tongue at Rowan in disapproval. ”Why Miss Prince, I have not seen you since the term started! It is simply just not done.”
”I know, Madam Pince,” Rowan replied with a wry expression. ”However, I have been busy with Prefect duties since the start of the term, and this is my first free period away from the Slytherin common room.”
Somewhat mollified by Rowan's answer, Madam Pince says, ”Well, it is understandable that your duties must be fulfilled Miss Prince, but that is no excuse for your education to be ignored.”
”Yes, Madam Pince,” Rowan obediently muttered, before making her way past the prickly librarian and to her usual table in a corner of the library. It should be empty as Pettigrew and Sirius are at Quidditch Practice at this time of day. (And according to Terry and Severus, who had both been present at the Gryffindor Quidditch Try-Outs. Slytherin had a better shot at winning the Quidditch Cup this year. That and all the Slytherin's were eager to retake the cup. The Triwizard Tournament had stolen their rightful victory, and they would finally be avenged.)
And as for Remus when not busy, he had been taking James down to sit with Terry and Severus in the Study Hall. Otherwise, James tended to stay in the Gryffindor common room to study or in the dorms. It was rather out of character for him, but then again nothing was usual about the entire situation.
Rounding the corner of the bookshelves, Rowan freezes at seeing a figure occupying the sunlight area, James Potter. Everything about him still looked the same, he was thin with hazel eyes and untidy hair. His glasses were perched at the end of his nose, and he had grown taller over the summer. And even his mannerisms were the same as he wrinkled his nose in vexation at a rather particular essay question. And yet, despite everything she still felt herself take an unconscious step backward as if she had met up with a stranger.
Perchance feeling a gaze on him, James glanced up from his homework to see the Slytherin female Prefect staring at him, Rowan Prince. Why was she here?
Rowan maintains a blank expression as she moves and takes her usual seat ignoring the surprised stare from James. Unpacking her things like usual, she sees James tilt his head at her in puzzlement out of the corner of her eye. Not waiting for him to ask, she glances up at him and wryly says, ”And no, I am not stalking you nor much less looking after you, Potter. This has always been my studying spot from the start of my first year, but four Gryffindor's simply could not take a hint to leave. As such, I have resigned myself to the constant presence of the four of you and have made do.”
James blinks at Slytherin's response not sure if that was an insult or not. Not wanting to argue, he quietly ducks down and begins to work much to Rowan's astonishment and annoyance. Shaking her head, she tries to get back to work, but her eyesight keeps being drawn to the rather studious figure of James Potter before her.
Making an irritated expression, Rowan finally puts her quill down and leans back in her seat. Breathing deeply through her nose, she finally addresses the elephant in the room. ”Well, how long are you continue these games with Peter, Potter? He does not deserve to have his feelings hurt in such a manner when he has been nothing but a good friend to you.”
A spark of frost enters James's hazel eyes as he puts his quill down and glances up at the tall, slender, pale, dark-haired girl. ”Miss Prince, whatever do you mean?”
Surprised at James's tone of voice, Rowan narrows her eyes right back at him. ”You know exactly what I mean, Potter,” she almost growled.
”I am afraid not,” James smoothly replied. As an Auror, he had been forced to deal with purebloods, especially with the war. He had been forced to learn, but eventual was as slippery and as shady as the whole lot of them.
Rowan's lips press into a thin line as she flashes him a hard look. ”Very well, then let me be clear, Potter,” Rowan spat out. ”Peter is being hurt by your cold and rather callous side remarks about his person. He is none of those things that you have cruelly accused him of. He is certainly not a coward nor is he evil! And nor has he ever betrayed your friendship or that of any of us!”