Passing the Time

[Cathal O'Callaghan]

Any other boy in the world would have gone weak at the knees whether they liked it or not if a beautiful girl such as Molly Donovan were to rest her head upon their shoulder. Her copper hair spilled in perfect waves over the curve where their bodies had come to rest against one another's, her cheek rested gently against the lapel of Cathal's shirt as she turned her eyes up at him. Yes, any other boy would have been enamored and hoped that they would be suitable enough to call upon her, but Cathal was unshaken. In lieu of going silent with nervousness as others were so wont to do when presented with the touch of a female, he dropped his arm from where he had draped it across the top of the sofa and brought it around her shoulders. He allowed his hand to brush her arm in a silent gesture that told of a kind-hearted "tell me later, when we're alone" in response to her troubles.

Such contact would have been vulgarùobscene, evenùhad it not been for their reputation. Many of the others believed that the two of them had been courting, and they were forgiven for their small displays. In truth, Molly was nothing but a close friend and a cover for a secret Cathal carried.

"Avoiding an assignment, are you?" the oldest boy of the trio teased, voice taking on a somewhat thicker Irish accent than it would have otherwise. Molly did that to him; her accent reminded him of his mother. Though he'd grown up in England after relocating from Ireland, he didn't fear the tension between the two countries and their people when it came to the students that spent their school year at Hogwarts. It rarely ever seemed to be an issue. It was safe for them to keep their accents, especially in the common room.

"Well, then," Cathal said, picking up the blank piece of parchment that had been discarded among Molly's work and snagging her quill as well. He scrawled his words in a delicate cursive. "There was this lass, you see, who didn't want to do her homework..."

That was how all of Cathal's stories began. "There was this dragon-keeper, you see," or "there was this great hero, you see," or "there was this goblin with poor eyesight, you see, though he didn't" or something to that effect were heard often enough that some of the students of Hufflepuff house had begun to see such words as better terms than the traditional "once upon a time". The first years were certainly familiar with itùCathal was there to utter stories in the dark while the first years, fiercely anxious and away from home for the first time, wept through their first few nights at school.

"What happened to the lass, Aubergine?" Cathal prompted, grinning over Molly's head at the younger student, urging him with a nod to continue the tale as he passed the parchment over the lap of their feminine companion in the direction of the youngest Hufflepuff in the group.