Son of a bitch

“That’s good to hear”, Mimi told the man, her gaze now completely focused on him as she started walking down the hallway. His next words were sweet, and somehow caused a flood of warmth in her chest— which made her both confused and slightly frustrated. Still, she couldn’t help the smile that rose on her cheeks. “I’d love to see a sign. What kind of a sign would it be? And oh, I’m not a chaser this time, but a beater. It’s a different job but I’ve got good people coaching me.”

“I hate Mimi Whitten.” he laughed, “No, just joking- it would actually be “Mimi Whitten’s number one fan.” he laughed, running his hands through his hair. He followed her. “Don’t kill me please.”

Mimi felt a pleased smile spread on her lips at Beau’s words. “That’s great. How has that been working out for you? Anything specific you find difficult?” She had always admired a man with a plan. At Beau’s question, Mimi let out a soft chuckle, glancing at the man beside her. “That’s right. Well, actually, I’ve been spending more time on the pitch. I finally made it to the team.”

“Everything’s going great. I mean, i’m doing a lot better since our tutoring sessions.” he smiled. “So, i’ll be seeing you on the pitch? That’s really exciting. Maybe I’ll bring a sign.” he chuckled. “I may look like a traitor to my lions but honestly, I don’t care.”

Mimi glanced at the man next to him quickly before averting her gaze back to the hallway in front of them. At his question, she let a small grin settle on her face. “As fine as I can be”, the girl answered, shrugging then. “Better than most, I believe. And you?”

“That’s great.” he smiled back, watching her eyes. “I’m doing okay, just trying to do better in this class so I can at least graduate.” he laughed, motioning at his book bag. “I haven’t seen you around much, lately. I guess you’re busy being queen bee right?”

@mimiwhitten

Mimi had intentionally stayed behind after class and was leaning to the wall outside of it. She was waiting for Beau Delacour, although she’d never admit to that if asked about it. When the man finally left the classroom and turned to look at her, she placed a surprised look on her face. An expression which was obviously fake. “Oh, hello. Are we in the same class?”

“I believe so.” he smiled, placing the papers his professor gave him into his satchel. “I haven’t seen you in awhile, how are you?” he asked, seeming casual. He still got little butterflies when she talked to him, but he wasn’t as seemingly flustered as before.

“Oh— no, I wasn’t talking about myself. I was talking about you.”

“Oh me- Yeah I suppose i’ll treat myself.”

“NOT quite the fun I was talking about.”

“What are you talking about then?”

“I’ve already tried that, and it didn’t work.” Freya replied with a small sigh, then she quickly smiled at the older Gryffindor and continued. “But thanks for the suggestion, anyways.”

“No problem. I’m not great with animals so I probably won’t be much help.”