~Gobstones~

Three sets of eyes watched fervently as the tiger's eye pebble clattered across the grey marble, the light glancing off every strip of gold that decorated its surface. Waiting with bated breath, every eye was narrowed on the playing stone.

Clunk...clatter....roll.......bump...stop.

The striped golden rock barely nudged the white center-stone and then the silence was shattered.
"Haha! YES!!" Henry Forsyth leapt up from his crouch and pumped the air with a fist.
"VICTOOOORYYY!" He then proceeded to break into a celebratory jig, mop of dirty blonde hair flopping into his eyes, all the while throwing rude hand gestures at the losing team: a pair of stunned-looking Ravneclaw third-years, whose wide, glazed eyes made it no secret that they couldn't believe they'd just had their butts kicked by an ickle little firstie.

"Sit down, you git!" Ophelia giggled and tugged her friend's red and gold tie, forcing him into a sitting position.
"You've gotta shake hands with the defeated side, Hal." She held out her dainty hand to a boy who almost doubled her in height. "You know, so they don't feel too embarrassed." She added in an undertone to her partner. Hal grinned. She was so mean. But who really cared?
"Too bad it wasn't a longer match, eh?" Her smirk was barely disguised and growing wider by the second. Hal loved that smirk. An expression he'd only really met that very year, but was already so familiar with. Her lips curled like she was right on the verge of a snorting laugh, but never seemed to break.
The Ravenclaws seemed less partial to her beautiful face than her partner was.
Her cheek earned the eleven-year-old a glare from the opposition and she watched in satisfaction as the two older students grabbed their stones and strode out of the hall in a huff.
Hal watched them go with an incredulous stare.
"Seriously?" he shook his head in disbelief. "I thought fourth years were supposed to be more mature than us, not less... Pathetic..."
Ophelia bent to scoop up their gobstones. She tossed Hal's triumphant tiger's eye to him, which he caught with a smile, and then shoved her own green stone into the pocket of her robes.
They both bent to grab their schoolbags and as they did, Hal felt their hands brush lightly. Ever so slightly, like the feeling of an eyelash brushing your cheek as you glance down. He wasn't entirely sure it had even ,happened but all the same it sent a delightful shiver down his spine.
None of this was made evident to Ophelia of course. Hal knew the rule:
You never tell a girl that you like her, it just makes you look stupid.

They swung their heavy bags onto their skinny first-year frames.
"I knew we were gonna win that one." Ophelia remarked cooly as they strode out of the hall, side by side, ready to attend their first lesson of the day.
Hal glanced at her with a wry smile touching his lips. "Yeah? How'd you suppose that?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes. "I would have thought that was obvious Hal. It was your gobstone! It's obviously special or something..." She faded off, staring ahead, the cogs of her brain almost clicking audibly.
Hal stared at her. That certainly wasn't in the International Gobstones Rulebook!
"What?" He exclaimed. "But that's forbidden! I can't have... I didn't-" Stressing out, worry lines creased his young forehead.
Ophelia let out an unexpected laugh. "That's not what I meant silly!" She held out a confident hand, asking- no- demanding a better look. Hal dropped the warm stone into her palm. It did have a slightly enchanting look about it. The way the specks of gold blended with the cocoa black, seeming to writhe like a striped pelt stretched over a tiger's rippling muscled body.
It was magical. Just not the usual kind of magic.
"Where'd you get it?" Ophelia rolled the stone around between her long fingers.
"I'm not exactly su-" Hal felt his front teeth thunk onto his tongue and stumbled forward as a dead weight thudded into his backpack.
"Oh Merlin..." A whispered curse folowed by barely suppressed giggles.
"Uh hey! Sorry mate." Hal glanced up into direct sunlight and saw the silhouette of a short scrawny figure. Unmistakeably Hank Walker.

"Um... it's fine." Hal muttered, raising a hand to his mouth to stem the salty flow. "I'm fine."
Hal had always found it amusing that a kid that scrawny and ferret-faced, could ever be named Hank. It made him sound like a an action-movie hero. Hank. What a ridiculous name...
But Hal's tormenter didn't stick around for long. Almost as soon as Hal uttered a forgiveness, Hank Walker was already sauntering back towards his other doofus friends, tossing his "weapon of choice"- a fanged-frisbee- up in the air, then snagging it masterfully.
"Arrogant little arse..."
Fuming, Hal turned away from that infuriating scene and continued to walk briskly in the direction of the greenhouses. He had no interest in suffering another one of Professor Sprout's lectures for something so not out of the ordinary. But Ophelia didn't follow.
After a few metres Hal turned back, angry now, feeling sure that he'd been deserted. Once again. By yet another... "friend". But the scene that met his watery eyes was so completely out of the ordinary it was practically surreal.

YOU NASTY LITTLE GIT!" Hank's head jerked back as a tiny fist connected with his nose. The force of Ophelia's punch threw him right off his feet. Time seemed to freeze. I stared as my arch-enemy fell on his butt, a stream of red trickling down his front, staining the Gryffindor tie even more crimson.
Shocked tears ran down his cheeks and Hal knew he should have felt a sadistic kind of glee. But he didn't. Hal hated his guts, right? Then why wasn't he praising the very ground Ophelia walked on?
Why? Because Hal didn't want a hero- or a heroine. He wanted to be his own hero. And his friend had stolen that from him. The lonely first-year stood watching with an empty heart. All his hopes flushed down the toilet.

Hal turned away from the scene, walking in the opposite direction to everyone else- who were all rushing to form a circle around the injured boy and his pathetic gang. Ophelia shoved her way out of the crowd, raising several irritable "ouches" and "heys".She chased after him, her cheeks flushed and her pretty dark locks swinging around her shoulders.
"Hey! Hey Hal, wait up!" But Hal didn't stop. Or turn around. He merely clutched his fingers around the strap of his bag and sped up, footsteps thwacking on the cool stone path.
"Hal!" Ophelia was growing impatient. Hal could her it in her voice. "For Merlin's sake... just STOP! Don't you dare ignore me Henry!"
Her commanding tone was out of line. Way out. Finally, Hal paused and faced her.
"What is your problem, Ophelia?!" He hissed, very concious that they were making a scene. Several older students looked on with amusement.
"Awww look at them.. So cute."An older Gryffindor snickered to her friend as they passed.
Ophelia turned on them, incensed.
"Shut-up! Just SHUT-UP!" She shrieked at them. Hal winced in embarrassment as they ran off snorting with laughter. Ophelia's outburst seemed to clear away any spectators. They moved away in twos and threes, whispering and casting the pair amused and incredulous looks.
"What's wrong with you?" Hal repeated in an undertone. "Why the hell did you punch Hank? I mean, I know he's an idiot and all, but what could possibly have made you think that was a good idea! It's not like he did anything to you..."
He trailed off, eyes fixed on the Slytherin girl's furious glare.
"What made me do it? What made me punch that arsehole?" Ophelia hissed, her cheeks flushed with suppressed rage. "He was bullying you! He's always bullying you. And you just let him get away with it, like nothing ever happened! That was the final straw."
Hal's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe in surprise.
"It was an accident..." He mumbled. But the argument was so false and so over-used that it just fell flat.
"An accident?" Ophelia scoffed. "I can't believe you Hal... I saved your sorry butt, and this is the thanks I get?! .../coward/..."
Even as she uttered the word, Ophelia looked mortified.
"Hal, I'm so sorry... I- I didn't mean it!" But the damage was done.
Traitor. Blood rushing in his ears. A thumping beat on the inside of his skull. Growing steadily louder, harder, worse and worse. The boy deflated. Any fight there may have been in him, was replaced by the stinging sensation of betrayal. The wound that had been closed for so long, stitched up by the girl's humour and acceptance, was now open and raw. Struck down by the hand that healed him...

Hal stared at his beautiful friend, her face was no longer cool and her tone no longer sarcastic. She stared back at him, her eyes glistening with angry tears. She was a mess. But at least she wasn't a disgrace to her house. Finally he broke the ringing silence. In a hoarse whisper.
"I know that. I don't need you to tell me." Hal murmured eyes downcast. "Or anyone else, but especially not you."

With that said, he turned and strode briskly away, but not without tears.
"Hal, wait! I'm s-sorry!" A hand grabbed his shoulder, but he shook it off angrily.
"Get off me Ophelia!" Hal snarled, irritably swiping a hand across his eyes.
"You Slytherin scum... you're all the same." He turned and stalked away, Ophelia's hurt gaze burning holes into his back.
"Fine! If that's what you want, then fine!" The sound of her voice was still so beautiful, even when she was furious with him. "I thought you were above all that crap, Hal. Obviously, I was wrong."


And so the pair parted ways. A nerdy Slytherin and a cowardly Gryffindor. Disaster was inevitable, so why did they even try to change the old ways?
The answer lay in the form of a golden-brown gobstone. Left shimmering in the grass forevermore.