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@jayceelongbottom

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Wrapped Around Fingers || Jaybus
The few ominously and terribly slow-passing seconds which stretched throughout his girlfriendâs vivid display of stupor were sufficient for Albusâs alert hunches to formulate two of their most educated guesses: Jaycee was either about to blow up in a high-pitched, piercing flare or indignantly walk away, and if heâd been asked to pick one of the two prospects, heâd have chosen standing in the way of a scared advancing elephant troop. Though already foreseen, Jayceeâs shriek still thrust a sharp swig of air into the former Slytherinâs lungs and he abruptly looked away, his hand involuntarily darting to cover his mouth. He slid his palm down his chin, trying not to let any of the discreet dirty looks his coworkers were now stealing at the scene get under his skin and knowing that if he did, heâd soon be riding an exponential slope to a sweaty mess.
Aurors were known for minding their own business around one another, but that didnât authenticate their complete disinterest in and apathy towards each othersâ lives. They did reveal an excoriating tendency to curiously, slowly, and cautiously peel the skin of privacy off a fellow associate from time to time. They had a twisted way of analyzing your soul and your lifestyle and the possible reasons behind your complications. Though slow to judge, they were quick to suspect, and when they finally did judge, they judged hard. The mere thought of this bleached color out of Albusâs face.
Maintaining zero eye contact, Albus saw Jaycee make air quotations through the blurry ends of his peripheral vision and listened to her scold on, not really registering much of her words because of his preoccupation with the odd and overwhelming realization that they were seriously fighting when not a while ago they were adjoined in an embrace. He remained distracted in that manner which edged on a growingly stoic demeanor, up until the brunetteâs unmistakable insinuations suddenly made him comprehend, with a tightening of chest, what this whole thing was legitimately about.
Albus closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before opening them to stare blankly at her as she narrated the comparison and stated the actual suggestion that Heather was flirting with him. He was suddenly feeling as if his tongue had been cut off and he swallowed, not sure how to act at this dramatically pivoting point. Now that Jaycee had mentioned it, he started replaying the entire picture in his head, unwinding it and tracking frame number marking after another until he reached the scary conclusion that yes, perhaps she did have every right to be angry.
He was in neither the physical nor the mental condition to further argue with adeptness. He felt depleted, touchy, and rather temperamental. And in addition, he was already beginning to get over his so-called pride and become convinced that he was the faulty one here. So the young Potter was about to grovel, to let his defense melt down and attempt absorbing his girlfriendâs fury by smoothly telling her that they could have this conversation later at home that day, in private and when theyâd both calmed down. One question held him back, however.
Why did it matter to Jaycee, anyway? Even if Heather was interested in him, why did it anger her? It wasnât like heâd shown any signs of disloyalty himself, had he? So why was she so worried?
âYou donât trust me, do you?â Albus asked flatly, new unpleasant thoughts springing up in his mind. He now felt attacked, not by the things sheâd said, but by the ones she hadnât.Â
Jaycee closed her eyes, massaging her temples. She suddenly felt exhausted after her outburst, as well as overwhelmed with emotion, and considered running to the bathroom to sob, compose herself, and then leave. Where would she go? Home? She couldn't even stomach the how awkward it would be when Albus came home, how they'd not say a word to each other, becoming strangers in their house. Would Albus even want to sleep in the same bed? A part of her expected him to enter the house with daises and a plea to fix things so they could laugh about how stupid the fight was and cuddle each other to sleep. The other part of her just wanted to lock him out of the bedroom so he could sleep on the couch.Â
A quick shot of  electricity burned Jaycee's lungs when Albus asked his question. She wasn't sure how to describe it, but the same feeling overwhelmed her whenever something jumped out at her, or when someone yelled at her, or even when she saw Albus arriving home through the window, or when her favorite song came on the radio. She looked around, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone watching. What would make him say that? Jaycee did trust Albus. She just didn't trust Heather Shaw. Then again, would this whole thing really bother her that much if she didn't have any doubts? She didn't doubt that Albus loved her, but she did doubt that he didn't love her enough sometimes. It wasn't because her lover didn't bring her chocolates home everyday or compliment her every five minutes. It wasn't that he never told her how much he loved her every now and then. It wasn't any of that. Albus was nothing but great to her, and he always reminded Jaycee how much he cared for and loved her. He was the perfect boyfriend, or at least perfect to Jaycee. That's what confused Jaycee so. If Albus hadn't given her any reason to doubt his love for her, then why did she feel this way?
Though, she had an idea as to why. It was her own ridiculous insecurities. How could he love someone who would get moody out of no where with no reason? How could he love someone who got so easily jealous? How could he love someone who had a tendency to whine and complain so much? How could he love someone who leaves her clothes all over the house, or who burns his toast so often, or who once called him at work, screaming to come home because of an "emergency" when she spotted a spider in the kitchen? That's what scared her. That he would find someone better. So, naturally, when Miss Heather brought in a much better lunch than hers, something snapped in Jaycee Longbottom.Â
This all brought Jaycee back to Albus's question. Did she trust him?Â
She sucked in a deep breath and then let it out slowly as she looked at the middle Potter, purposely trying not to look in his eyes that were most likely blazing green with intensity.Â
"Albus, I... It's not...," she trailed off, scratching her arm nervously. This all became too much and the bathroom just around the corner was practically beckoning to her. "Can we just... Can we finish this discussion at home?" The question had struck a chord in her, and the fight that she was ready to have right then and there a few moments ago suddenly felt too intimate for the office.
Surprise! | Jaybus
The former Slytherinâs features gradually softened and he smiled back, his hand rising unconsciously to rub the back of his neck. He was flushing with a bold surge of bare joy, until he caught Nevilleâs eye in the back of the hut. Albusâs arm dropped as quickly as his smile did and he found himself awkwardly staring back at his former Herbology professor. He took a brief moment to swallow discreetly, then gave him a small nod, âP-Professor.â Exchanging a quick glance with Jaycee, he hesitated, not sure what to say to soothe his feeling of embarrassment. He was involved in Griffithâs incident last year, after all, and whether Neville Longbottom knew that or not, he still couldnât shake this strange uneasiness around him. âUh ⌠Dad sends his regards ..â
Jaycee furrowed her eyebrows, confused as to why Albus's smile faded so quickly. However, when she turned to see who he was looking at, she understood completely. Jaycee hadn't mentioned anything to her father about Albus being involved with the entire Griffith situation, but Neville had mentioned seeing the two sneak off to the shed. Jaycee figured she'd rather have her father draw whatever conclusion from that than tell him the actual truth.
Neville Longbottom stepped forward as Jaycee scooted over to make room for him. "Hello, Albus," Neville greeted the boy, unconsciously wringing his hands. Jaycee cringed at the awkwardness of the encounter. "Tell your father I send my regards as well," he continued, "And that he still owes me from our bet."Â
Jaycee turned to her father. "What bet?" she asked. Neville looked back and forth from Jaycee to Albus. "Don't worry about it," he replied. "What brings you here, Albus?"
The Hufflepuff couldn't tell if her father was being defensive of her, or if he was just feeling as uncomfortable as Albus.
Surprise! | Jaybus
Albusâs lips twitched as he fought the urge to smile, trying to enact his role with as much seriousness as possible. âIn that case, will you please let her know that âŚ,â he paused and licked his lips, choosing his words carefully so he would at least sound a tad less pathetic, clingy, and nuts. âEvery night before falling asleep, I pretend to talk to her and recount to her the dayâs events so I wonât feel ⌠isolated. Just like the old days. Will you tell her that?â
Jaycee's act melted away when Albus spoke. A smile stretched across her face as she racked her brain for something to say. Albus had been missing her as much as she was missing him. It was such a relief that she thought she'd start crying all over again. She wanted to say something equally genuine and beautiful, but all that came out was, "I miss you. I miss you so much." She didn't care if her father was watching, she stood up on her tippy-toes and kissed Albus on his cheek.

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Surprise! | Jaybus
Albus feigned a small troubled scowl and nodded a bit, not really aware that his cheeks had acquired a light shade of pink. âWhy that sounds like a terribly demanding and long journey. Do you think you can deliver to her a message on my behalf?â
Jaycee pressed her lips together to suppress a very girly giggle that was fighting its way up. "I think I can do that," she replied, nodding. She had noticed that her father and Hagrid had grown silent in the hut. They were snooping and listening in, no doubt.
Surprise! | Jaybus
Albus registered his best friendâs familiar scent first and her form later. Initially, heâd thought it was someone else renting Jayceeâs valued appearance under the terms of a Polyjuice Potion contract. (Another suspicious inclination of his enhanced by the rigorous disciplines of Auror training). One glance at her tearful eyes, however, dissolved his irrational suspicions as soon as theyâd sprung and assured him as he chuckled to himself and closed his eyes that it really was his target in the flesh.Â
Albus removed his hands from his pockets and rested his palms on her back, hugging the Hufflepuff back longingly and sighing to himself.
At long last.
"Abusing dadâs authority, I suppose. And looking for a miniature brunette just about your height. You donât suppose youâve seen her, Miss, do you?"
Jaycee let go of Albus, beaming and composing herself. She reached to remove a piece of lint from his shirt. "Ah, sounds like you're looking for Allison Finnigan," she joked, "You'll want to turn around and go back into the castle." She fought the urge to hug him again.
Surprise! | Jaybus
Climbing Hagridâs front stairs in two sprightly strides, Albus knocked on his door then slipped his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and waited, casually glancing sideways. Searching for his best friend and his sister were top on his list and he could barely contain the thrill he felt at finally having the chance to catch up, but he couldnât pass by the gatekeeperâs hut without greeting him and giving him his little present.Â
"Come on, Hagrid, come oâ" Albus muttered quietly to himself before suddenly getting distracted by a faint rustling noise that came from the Forbidden Forest and being forced to snap his head in its direction. Realizing it was probably nothing, however, he sighed to himself and returned his attention to the nostalgia-inducing dwelling before him. He couldnât deny it any longer; theyâve only been a couple of months, but Auror training really has lately turned him from jumpy to jumpier.
Everybody froze when they heard a knock on Hagrid's door. "Expecting someone, Hagrid?" Neville asked. Hagrid shook his head, "Not that I know of!" Jaycee sighed, closing her textbook. She'd try to get work done later on in her dorm. Silly her thinking she'd get anything done at Hagrid's. "Want me to see who it is?" Jaycee offered, not wanting Hagrid or her father to get up.
With the approval of the two men, Jaycee pushed her chair back and headed to the door. She instinctively looked around for a peephole, but found there wasn't one. With a yawn, she opened the door. Her stomach immediately turned when she saw her best friend standing there, his hands in his trench coat. "Albus!" She squealed, throwing her arms around her friend. Tears sprang to her eyes. "What are you doing here?!" She pulled back for a moment to look at him, then hugged him again. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're here!"
Surprise! | Jaybus
Jaycee sat in Hagrid's hut with Hagrid and her father. It was the first time since the Hufflepuff returned Griffith to his owner that she was invited over again. The three and just finished eating, and Neville and Hagrid laughed while sipping their wine, their faces glowing red. Jaycee tried her hardest to ignore the two as she concentrated on her Herbology homework and sipped the tea Hagrid brewed for her.

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Merlin, it's going to be weird not seeing Albus out on the Quidditch pitch.
Wrapped Around Fingers || Jaybus
The moment Jaycee emitted her little clearly unamused snicker, Albus found himself experiencing dĂŠjĂ vuâof the unpleasant type. His offended features slowly retreated, making place for a blank expression of slight bewilderment, and his memory went back in time to an incident during his Hogwarts years in which Nearly Headless Nick had openly passed through his frame, paralyzing his senses for a second and filling his body with a most undesirable chill. His girlfriendâs ambiguous gesture raised quite a few foreboding questions in his head. Did she feel incredulous about how it had taken him a few moments to detect her critical insinuations and how it shouldâve been âtoo obviousâ? Did she feel incredulous about how it was stupid of him to inaccurately translate said critical insinuations? And was she about to throw a tantrum? Because he wasnât sure he would be able to deal with it if those were her plans. The humiliation of being censured right in front of all of his colleagues and superiors was one thing, but what really alarmed him was the idea that he might have upset the person he wanted the approval of most in this world, to such an extent that she would no longer be able to restrict herself.
None of those questions actually needed be answered, however, for all that mattered was one piece of data: the former Hufflepuff, as her glare indubitably testified, wasnât happy. And it made Albus feel petrified, both on the inside and outâespecially because all heâd ever known of those eyes were warmth and affection. Â
Looking back into her eyes, and trying his best neither to blink nor to linger much on how attractive her thick eyelashes were, he made a pathetic attempt to absorb her anger through his endearing, pleading, twinkly and bright green puppy dog eyes. They had worked on people before, so he didnât see why he shouldnât give them a chance now. Evident by her icy tone of voice, however, they were clearly and miserably failing, and the young Potter was honestly starting to lose track of what they were even arguing over. Veiled remarks, vague terse annotations, and repressed feelings had all tangled up and become a richly interwoven network of conflict stimulants dense enough to obscure logic.
Briefly getting distracted by Heatherâs call, Albus glanced at the cubicle for a moment then quickly looked back at Jaycee just in time to see her terminate her rolling of eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and blinked, as though he was just now finally discovering that his co-workerâs remark about her sandwich was what had irritated his girlfriend in the first place.
âOh. Oh, so thatâs what this is all about, is it?â he responded after a few small nods.
âYou couldnât digest some innocent harmless criticism.â
The former Slytherin regretted his words the moment they escaped his lips. He was proving to be an expert on adding fuel to the fire by the minute and it made him want to smack his own face into a wall.Â
Jaycee's jaw dropped the second Albus's words left his mouth. It was such an uncharacteristically careless and insensitive thing for Albus to say, she thought. Of course, she was guilty of her actions, thoughts and words, as well, but she was hoping that Albus would come through as he usually did when Jaycee was being moody and stop whatever was starting up. If she didn't have anything to be seriously upset at before, she sure did now.
"Are you kidding me?!" She practically shrieked. However, the petite brunette immediately lowered her volume, scanning the area for any sign of Harry. The last thing she wanted was for her possible father-in-law to witness a fight between she and Albus. "You think that was 'harmless criticism'?" Jaycee scoffed at her boyfriend's understatement, creating air quotes with her fingers. "She might as well just hang a banner in your cubicle that reads, 'Love me, Albus! I'm better and prettier than your current girlfriend and her bland sandwiches'." The thought of Heather Shaw wrapping Albus around her dainty fingers with her Blood Red manicure made Jaycee sick to her stomach. "You know, for a smart boy, you can be very stupid." At this point, Jaycee didn't really care to censor her feelings. She just wanted to hurt Albus as much as she was hurting. She also wanted to march into the cubicle, drag Ms. Shaw out by her feet, and toss Albus's luxurious feast out of the window.
She didn't even know why she was still standing there, fighting with Albus in the auror office. It all seemed so strange and foreign. She and Albus had had some disagreements here and there -- completely inevitable since they were living together -- but they had never escalated to this. They'd even managed to mend things after the few awkward kisses between them back in Hogwarts. Then again, no one had ever tried to push their way between the two before.
Wrapped Around Fingers || Jaybus
Albus had suspected his girlfriend would feel a bit offended at the denunciation of her justly generous deed. Blunt criticism was seldom harmonious music to the human ear, really, and she was never one who thought highly of the concept of futility. Jaycee didnât like feeling slighted, he well knew that; a cautionary thought the Auror trainee had furtively licked his lips upon. But as disturbed as heâd presumed she would be by having her efforts belittled, heâd also expected she would, easily and without trouble, let it go by. Given her highly compassionate nature, she would surely forgive his associate for that innocent little mistake. It wasnât much of a big deal anyway, was it? Not provocative enough. Heather hadnât even known Jaycee was the one whoâd fetched him the sandwich. But then âŚ. Something about the former Hufflepuffâs facial expression was not the blueprint of âforgivingâ ⌠He could almost imagine smoke blowing out of her ears .. And there were hints of some negative vibes about her, like she was trying to suppress emotion. Â
âWhaââ Albus sputtered as Jaycee dragged him out of Heatherâs sight. He was flustered and quite shocked at that sudden change in character, his imagination certainly having not stretched to such an extent of expectations. And his splintered arm didnât welcome the gesture, either.
Ow Nooooooo please not there. They tie two-way mirrors there and say they wonât break but they always doooooo.
But that wasnât what now caused him to feel like a thousand tiny pins had poked him all over at the same time. Jayceeâs words and her tone were. It didnât hurt, hardly, but it definitely made his skin prickle. Heâd never witnessed such a reaction from her before. Heâd never seen Jaycee, not her, unjokingly display anger at him.
âWhoah. Easy. What are you even talking about?â Before he could swallow his words, Albus found himself hissing back, though not as heatedly.
Great. Very genuine-looking. And calming. And didnât even involve eye-contact. Perfect. Because this is exactly the right thing to say when someone appears angry. âIâm not aware of anything that deserves your indignation.â
It had been pointed out to him before. By his mother. That the only thing that could get a girl more upset with a guy whoâd done something wrong was denial, oblivion, not realizing the mistake. But then again, he hadnât really done anything, had he? There was no reason for Jayceeâs âŚ. Well, this. Whatever the hokey pokey it was.
âH-Hold on a minute âŚ,â he added after a wee moment, one specific word of his girlfriendâs reaching well beyond his ears a bit late yet especially sparking his attention. âWhat do you mean, âactually insaneâ? What do you mean by âactuallyâ? Is that some substitute for âafter allâ that Iâm supposed not to notice?â
Well he couldnât shut up now. Not when his precious sanity has directly been insulted.Â
"...What?" Jaycee asked once Albus fired his questions at her. She had been rattling on so fast that she had to stop and think about what she have possibly said to offend him in this situation. When she wrapped her head around the fact that Albus was upset with her because she implied that he was, in fact, insane, an eerie calm fell over her features before she let out a small, exasperated laugh. The calm before the storm.
Suddenly, the embarrassment she felt about overreacting mixed with her newly found reason to be mad at Albus. How? How could he try to accuse me of insulting him while he stood there and let Heather insult me?! She couldn't lose it there, however. Not right outside of Albus's cubicle. Not where, a few feet away, Heather Shaw stood waiting for her beloved coworker to return.
Jaycee stared coldly into her boyfriend's eyes, glaring at him from beneath her dark eyelashes. Her voice, no longer a whisper, yet still quiet, was equally chilling when she spoke. "If you took what I said about you being 'insane' literally, then yes, Albus, you are completely mental." She knew this was going too far, that this argument was becoming way out of hand, but it was too late to kiss and make up -- for Jaycee's stubbornness, at least.Â
"Albus, your food is getting cooooooolllllld!" Heather Shaw sing-songed from inside the cubicle.
Jaycee rolled her eyes, then fixed Albus with her stare again, just daring him to go in there and indulge in his cinnamon roll. "Aren't you going to go and eat, darling? My bland sandwich didn't fill you up too much, did it?" She asked with mock consideration.
Wrapped Around Fingers || Jaybus
"Oh itâs demanding alright," Heather readily corrected the brunette with a tiny muted scoff slipping through her nostrils after an infinitesimal pause in which sheâd compelled herself to drag her attention away from Albus. "Especially today. Weâve been at sixes and sevens in the office all day. But ⌠well ⌠action expresses priorities, doesnât it?" She flashed a neon grin in the other girlâs face and shrugged one suggestive shoulder in the Auror-to-beâs direction.Â
Albus, whoâs been nonchalantly superintending from a figurative distance, suddenly sensed his involvement and wired his alertness in. His girlfriend and his colleague appeared to generally have taste for one another, though at one point heâd had a hunch something was a bit ..hostile? artificial? about the atmosphere. He wasnât confident at all in his intuitive aptitude, however, so heâd prompted that feeling to die out as soon as itâd appeared and had resumed merrily watching the little chat, continuing to believe heâd contributed to the initiation of something nice.Â
"Which brings me straight to the point," Heather abruptly cobbled up and linked together the railway of her spirited and shrill string of speech on which her somewhat chaotic train of thought operated. She looked back at Albus, her eye-pupils shifting in half a second to his background and back again. "I hope youâre not expecting me to leave you with nothing to eat all day but some bland petty sandwich." Albus wanted to interject and assure her that Jayceeâs ham sandwich had been more than gratifying, but what happened next lead all thought astray. With two animated claps, she stood erect and, smiling haughtily and in self-pride, watched as three house-elves dressed in fresh, tidy liveries scurried toward the cubicle.Â
It took the former Slytherin a dumb moment to understand what was going on, but then it hit him and he immediately pursed his lips, closing his eyes and letting out a quiet brief sigh. Each of the elves was carrying a plateful of food and apparently handled a separate course because after the first one used his free hand to swiftly gather the papers on the desk up into one neat heap, nudged it aside, and set down his plate of appetizers, the second elf laid down the chips-and-steak plate and took a step back to give his comrade room for settling down the hot cinnamon roll, over which frosting rippled down and melted.Â
"Heather, I told you time and time again, there is no need foâ"
"Ever not listening," the blonde interrupted in a sing-songy manner and dismissed the elves before glancing at Jaycee. "I took my lunch-break, like a normal person, and paid the restaurant across the street a quick visit,â she explained, a bit boastfully. âOtherwise he stays pinned to his chair and nibbles on imaginary food until the place is empty and they beg him to go home.â
"Not entirely empty âŚâ Albus muttered quietly to himself, catching the eye of an amused colleague who passed by and nervously trying to telepathically call for his help. He only continued to smirk to himself, however, and went on his way without a word, leaving behind a desperate Albus in the middle of a suspiciously alarming situation.Â
Jaycee stood with her arms crossed listening to Heather drone on and on about how "demanding" her work was. A quiet sigh escaped the brunette's lips and it took everything in her to not roll her eyes. It wasn't like she actually wanted to here about Heather's work. She was hoping the girl would be smart enough to realize that Jaycee was trying to dismiss her in the most subtle way possible. Apparently, she wasn't. Good. Albus would never be tempted by such a daft woman. Unless... Unless Heather did notice what Jaycee was trying to do and elected to ignore it. The thought itself made Albus's girlfriend want to rip off a generous piece of her boyfriend's parchment, wrinkle it up into a little ball, and stuff it in Miss Shaw's pretty little mouth. Perhaps that would shut her up.
Not caring that Albus's co-worker was still talking, Jaycee turned to Albus and opened her mouth to utter his name, when Heather decided to change the subject, even speaking a little louder. Bland petty sandwich?! Again, Jaycee's lips parted to defend herself, but why bother? What wasn't Albus, her boyfriend, speaking up? Did he think her sandwich was bland and petty, too? Just a moment after Heather Shaw clapped her hands together, the pungent smell of seasoned meat and cinnamon filled the cubicle. Cinnamon roll. Why didn't I think of that?!
Jaycee's efforts to provide Albus with lunch suddenly seemed officious and silly compared to the feast Heather brought in for him. She didn't know whether to cry or shout at the innocent house elves making their way out of the cubicle. It was her job to take care of Albus Potter and make sure he was happy and full and satisfied, so why was random Heather taking that responsibility into her own hands? Jaycee wanted nothing more than to go home and mope, but she wasn't going to leave knowing that Heather was hanging around. What next? Was she going to give Albus a massage, too? Or perhaps she'd send him off to a spa.
Seeing as it'd be unfair to take her anger out on the house elves, and not wanting to get into it with Ms. Shaw, Jaycee decided to blame Albus for everything. Why would he allow his pretty little friend to insult her sandwich?!
"Albus, can I talk to you?" Jaycee didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed Albus by his arm and dragged him out of the cubicle. Heather started to protest, but the Longbottom glared at the woman, daring her to interrupt yet again. Once they were outside of the cubicle, Jaycee spun on Albus, erupting with whisper-shouts. "What the hell?!" She exclaimed. "Are you crazy? Are you actually insane? What is wrong with you?" She knew it wasn't fair for her to blame Albus for any of this - it wasn't like he asked Heather to do this for him - but she was angry and absolutely dripping with jealousy (though, she wouldn't admit the latter to herself).

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Wrapped Around Fingers || Jaybus
Albusâs expression was the image of delight as he watched the girls exchange greetings, already feeling optimistic about this interaction and all jubilant at the prospect of the two of them bonding until they became friends in the upcoming future. It seemed like a rather noteworthy addition to his relationship with Jaycee, because it would better acquaint her with his workmates and consequently draw her closer to something that was such a chief part of his life and course of career. But still to a limit, of course. The last thing he wanted was for her to draw in too close that she gets mixed up and involved in the unstable jobâs dangers and her life becomes compromised.
âRight, Longbottom! Thatâs why! I thought you resembled somebody Iâve seen before,â Heather responded, her smile never leaving her face. She thought it best not to reveal that she did indeed know the brunetteâs countenance from the previous times sheâd paid the place a visit. After all, she didnât want to give her the impression that that was of any importance to her. People came and people went, didnât mean they were all of much significance. So she instead chose to rely on the popularity of that girlâs name for the desirable effect. âAw, thatâs nice,â she continued, using a slightly higher tone to express her awe. âVisitors from outside the ministry come round here, like, all the time. But you know what they say, a constant guest is never welcome,â she let out a brief, suppressed giggle, punching Jaycee gently in the arm.
Albus chuckled softly to himself, finding Heatherâs humor amusing and admiring her effort to make his girlfriend feel carefree and at ease. It was a habit of hers, using quips to drag a stranger into the circle and make him or her feel like theyâve been there for a long time and that itâs okay for them to start throwing casual friendly mockeries too. Or so Albus was convinced were her intentions.
âHeather works at the Portkey Office,â he turned to Jaycee and added, holding his left wrist behind his back.
Jaycee examined Heather's pearly teeth as she smiled. She wondered if Albus's colleague was actually that happy to meet her, or if she just didn't know what else to do with her face. Was it genuine? The brunette looked the blonde up and down discreetly after she cracked a joke and playfully punched Jaycee on the arm. After realizing she was probably coming off as snobby and rather unamused, Jaycee forced a laugh that was a lot louder than necessary. She wouldn't be surprised if Albus and Heather saw right though her. Then again, she didn't really care. It's not like she was planning on befriending this Albus Tickler.
Jaycee turned to her boyfriend when he spoke, then looked back at Heather. "Wow, that's interesting," she commented, though she really couldn't care less. She hoped Albus didn't notice her voice rise a few octaves, just as Heather's had earlier. Ms. Shaw's job description didn't answer the question that had been on Jaycee's mind since she laid eyes on the girl: why was she there in Albus's cubicle?Â
Why is she still here? Can't she see Albus and I were in the middle of something? She has the entire day to tickle him. Though, I'd prefer she didn't.
Heather was smiling at Albus as if he had just declared her the most beautiful girl on earth. Jaycee shifted her weight from one leg to the other before clearing her throat. "I... I guess your job isn't demanding, then? I mean, if you're here..." she said. She knew she this was rudely blunt, but Heather Shaw had to get the hint that the petite brunette with bubbling jealousy wanted to be left alone with her man. Jaycee followed her statement with a little, lighthearted giggle similar to Heather's.
Shed Wails || Jaycee and Albus
Albus stood rooted to the spot, his right arm hanging limply by his side. A glistening beady drop of blood trickled down his finger until it reached its tip and detached itself, dribbling onto the floor. Another one of sweat similarly dragged itself down the side of his face, leaving behind a dewy trail. For several painful moments, everything appeared smoky, fuzzy. Like time had slowed down but all surrounding entities were refusing to abide by its forced sluggishness and thus fought it back, increasing their own paces and, in effect, producing a sense of irregularity into the air. Jayceeâs movements were quick, Griffithâs headlong and powerful, and only his brain slacked behind and remained dilatory, inert. It was a state of mental captivity. The Potter desired to take action, aware of the danger his best friend was exposed to, but at the same time he didnât want to move lest he further enrages the griffin. And that was beside the fact that he didnât even know what could be done. No insight, intellect, or judgmental powers were reaching his systems. Of course, this wasnât his first experience with forthcoming danger; heâd dealt with worse before. However, it wasthe first time Jaycee shares his spot in hazardâs shadow and knowing that her safety was threatened and that her well-being was linked to his performance scared him to his bones.
Dumbfounded, he watched the Hufflepuff employ her wand skills, but when a splash of water erupted at her feet, he instantly flinched, springing out of his acute stupor.
Albus could almost imagine the electrical fuses return to his impulse-conducting nerves as he saw Jaycee strike Griffith with the confundus charm. Despite the irrational need he felt to pant for his best friend, he closed the mouth he hadnât realized was hanging slightly agape. And by the time Griffith finally calmed down, heâd already gained back most of his collectedness and fortitude of mind.
âUh ⌠No, no. No, that was brilliant,â the Slytherin muttered distractedly, preoccupied by his amazement at Jayceeâs finesse and by his growing relief that the degree of risk did decline after all. The charm bought them some really valuable time. âThank you, Jayce. That was excellent.â He smiled encouragingly at her approaching figure and his eyes grinned. He had to admit, something about the way sheâd shouted the spellâs incantation and transferred her power to her wand allured him much as her tenderness had done earlier. And that was only one spell and it wasnât even the first time heâd seen her put her wand to use. If anything, her wandâs structure was as familiar to him as his own. But in spite of that, it was still an attractive sight, and he wondered what heâd do if he ever watched her brew a potion from beginning to end. Itâd probably hold him captive. And possibly kill him.
Captive. Thatâs it!
Hopping back on track and bursting with adrenaline, the Slytherin knew exactly what he was going to do next. His mission consisted of one simple part: applying the rest of the salve to Griffithâs wound. In order to do so, however, he had to preserve every drop of the quantity in his hand and handle it with utmost care. And only a couple of tricks could do the job, if only heâd been quicker at using his head.
I am one daft tosser.
Albus got out his wand and swiftly placed a solidifying charm on the ointment in his left hand, turning it into a solid cube whose texture oddly reminded him of dry glue. Itâd be easier to carry it around in this state than if it was in its original semi-liquid one. Then, he moved his left foot forward, glided his right to the back, twisted his body to accommodate his new footing while extending his left arm forward at a defensive angle, and slowly raised his right arm over his head, keeping his elbow fairly slack to amplify nimbleness but maintaining a firm rigid grip upon the wand he pointed at the befuddled griffin. Just as his namesake had unwillingly instructed.
You wonât be harmed, I promise.
âIncarcerous!â
Albus suddenly flicked his wrist, flung his wand in one circular movement, and, relying on his bicep to provide all the force with which he threw his arm forward, picked up his right foot to stamp it down before its twin. Instantaneously, sprouting elastic rope shot from the wandâs tip and curled around Griffithâs tail, wings, talons, and hind legs, limiting their motion and pinning the creature to the wall behind. Not only was such a choice of rope strong enough to withstand the mighty creatureâs expected struggles, but its elasticity also reduced the chance that it would injure his limbs, unlike regular rope or iron chainsâoptions that had been briefly considered.
Not wasting another second, fully aware that Jayceeâs spell had already started wearing off, Albus ignored Griffithâs heightening screeches and lunged in his direction. He trusted his best friend will stay back and focused his full attention on turning the cube back to its original state before hurriedly attempting to secure his wand back where it usually rested. He was intent upon acting fast before what remained of the salve spilled again, but in such haste, he lost mastery and couldnât even get the wand to go through his belt hoop. So he let it drop on the floor and began applying the ointment to the griffinâs wound in one single big scoop.
âOw. Ow ow ow. Gee, almost done. Almost done!â He struggled to keep rubbing the infected area with wide circular strokes as Griffith used his beak to grab hold of his hair and tug repeatedly, trying to stop him. Before long, however, and before the Slytherinâs skull could break in half by the griffinâs upcoming plan to pierce it, the tugs grew slower and milder and the boils started to disappear as the medicine rapidly took effect.
Oh Merlin, thank you.
Albus let out an audible sigh of relief and smiled a little to himself, continuing to rub Griffithâs chin and noticing palpable reduction in his efforts to fight him away.
âAlright. Itâs safe to come closer. But remain calm,â he quietly addressed Jaycee then knelt down briefly to pick up his wand with his free hand. He pointed it at the abating creature and released him from his robes. For one short-lived instant, when he grunted and shuffled around, Albus had a mini heart-attack, thinking he was going to attack. He soon realized that the griffin was only settling down into a more comfortable position, however, and immediately relaxed.
As a muggle would say, the salve had worked like magic.Â
Jaycee watched as Albus bonded Griffith against the wall. She noticed that her sensible friend hadn't restrained the creature using a metal chain as she was sure anyone else would've. Albus's ability to be so careful under such pressure didn't necessarily surprise Jaycee - it was just like the Slytherin to be so detail-oriented - but, it did impress her. The griffin's wails, however, were making Jaycee nervous. Her father was probably in the greenhouse preparing for his next class, and the last thing she needed was for him to come over and inspect the noise coming from the small shed.
The Hufflepuff held her breath as she watched Albus continue to apply the potion onto Griffith's skin. The creature couldn't do any more harm than had already been done, especially since he was tied up, but Jaycee couldn't help thinking of what would happen if he broke free of his restraints. It'd be the same, terrifying episode that occurred just minutes earlier, but worse. She and Albus probably wouldn't be so lucky the second time around. She was thankful, however, that the only aggression Griffith was showing towards her friend was the constant tugging on his dark brown hair. Jaycee covered her mouth with her hand, wishing the smirk on her face away. Though she felt bad, the sight in front of her was rather comical. She opened her mouth to tell Griffith to stop, but she couldn't say anything without risking a laugh escaping her body. The creature eased up after a moment, anyway. Could this mean the potion worked?
When Albus granted Jaycee the permission to come closer, it took everything in the girl not to run over. She managed to walk over slowly, though. Her eyes didn't leave the spot on Griffith's neck as she drew nearer and nearer, and when she was close enough to see that the harsh looking rash had nearly disappeared, a wave of relief washed over her. She stepped back as Albus released the ropes holding the creature, then smiled widely. "He looks like new!" Jaycee exclaimed, looking back and forth from the creature to her friend. "Albus, you're a genius!"
Jaycee wrapped her arms around Griffith. A little sound like a growl escaped the griffin's throat as he tensed under the girl's touch. Jaycee ignored it. She was just happy that she wouldn't have to return Griffith with a big, ugly blemish on his neck. When she released the griffin, she turned to Albus. Suddenly, she felt very shy. She locked her hands together behind her back, then let go and let her arms hang by her sides. "Thank you so much, Albus," she said after a moment. "I really don't know what I'd do without you." She let the truth of those words hang in the air between them, then looked back at Griffith. It was over, and now Jaycee didn't know where she and Albus stood. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to avoiding each other in the halls, but what if that's what he wanted?
She cleared her throat. "I think classes are starting," she said. "I wouldn't want to make you later than you already are." A nervous laugh followed.