Flirting with fire., Peter and May

[May Marie Stacy]

In the middle of the courtyard sat a normal braid coppery brown hair which is pulled back and over her right shoulder girl with shape bluish green eyes that were not focus on anything in the courtyard. For once, her natural curls lands just below the tips of the middle of her back. In the sunlight, her normal dark brown hair with red tints was almost light-coppery brown hair. Her hair lies against her oval shaped face that was off set by her full, pointed almost lightly pink lips. Her complexion is baby soft and smooth with light brown freckles that peppers her face and her bare arms. With her hair down, she looked slightly older or maybe it was the air about her.

She pulled her eyes back to her hand dawn drawing of man had some of her characterises. He was on top of a beautiful French totter horse. She was outline the pencil with marker to darken the lines. She could feel the grass below her green silk dress has she started to darken the line around the man’s face. Her silver green sweater was pulled away from her arms. Pausing again in her drawing. Feeling the warm earth below bare feet as has the wind moved her hair away from her shoulder. Sticking her left hand into the warm water of the fountain has she looked at the mirror like water.

‘Why do I always feel left out when I hear others talk about things or when they stare at me? I wonder if they stare because of my scars. If people would understand that, these scars are from an attack. That said attack would explain why I do not trust so easily or why I hide. I only got them because I had wonder out of the protection zone of my family land.’ she thought felt like sigh keep deep in her heart. ‘It’s deeper then one must think. The pain in my heart is what worries me. My brother who has became more then just a sibling. I get death threats. I want friends but I do not want them hurt from my own mistakes that I made when I was younger. Some would not understand this pain. I push others away because I cannot stand for others to be hurt because of me. I already put my beloved brother at risk.’ she thought sadly. Looking at the water, she can see the hints of her mother and father in her face and body. Her mother’s hair was just has curly has her’s.

[Peter Stonewall]

The courtyard was pretty much emptied out for the day, most of the kids having gone on the trip to Hogsmeade without the younger students, the stone fountain, decorated with Celtic designs and dancing gargoyles, gurgled at the center of the grass and flowerbeds, only one couple drowning in a bubble of romance, and a lone girl sat on the rim of the water basin, shadowed by the gargoyle statue in the center.

Peter Stonewall, a first year Slytherin with tawny spirals for hair, was jogging around the quiet courtyard, sans his shirt and jacket, his dangling dog tags that said had Puddlemere United’s symbol and name on them, bounced up and down against his bare chest, clanging a little against eachother with each stride he took in his green sweatpants that were clinging to his hips. He had a boyish look on his round twelve year old face, obviously up to mischief, keeping his eye on the girl in the middle of the courtyard, on the lip of the fountain. The sunlight was hitting her just right, her silky green dress and sweater almost Slytheriny, her olive-colored neck bare as her hair is pulled to one side. Her long, dark brown hair was infused with red highlights, giving it a coppery hue. Her pink lips were puckered in thought as the tips of her russet curls rested against her neck and collar. All of this Peter took in through his approving glances her way along the path he was jogging on. Every time she would look up from the sketchpad in her lap, Peter would look away casually, and tense all of his muscles to look bigger. He was very good at not looking as if he were checking girls out, so she didn’t even realize that he was watching.

Despite the fact that the girl was dressed in Snake colors, Peter knew what house she was in, and also her name—May Stacy of Gryffindor. She was a loner and all, and kind of mysterious and all—scars all over her, and the only flaw on her pretty face being an ugly slashing scar across the bridge of her nose. It was really her eyes that caught Peter and made her interesting to him—normally a girl with such nasty scars would be dismissed and ignored. But her wide, walnut-shaped eyes were kind of captivating, as if she were looking into your soul, or right past you and to the person behind you or something. It kind of gave her an aire of maturity, almost, and that put her back on his list.

Peter quietly left the trail that he was jogging on, and snuck very silently from the side of May as she was looking away to put her hand in the fountain. Getting an idea, he put his face next to her ear on the side that her hair was swept away from, and whispered “Watcha drawing?” Hoping to surprise her big time, maybe even get her wet later or something.

[May Marie Stacy]

She noticed the tawny spiral haired boy jogging on the path. Oh she knew who he was alright. He was known as the flirter of the Slytherin house Peter Stonewall. A second year like her cousin Akio. She had watched him flirt with one of her friends Ariel. Watching him watch her was amusing to say at least ‘He better not even try it with me.’ She thought watch him through her eye lashes.

May was a lot of things but she wasn’t stupid when he tense his muscles as if to make them look bigger. ‘My goodness how stupid can you get boy,’ she thought as she drew more in her notebook. She wasn’t going to fall for his tricks. No surely she wasn’t going to fall for the pig that had the nerve enough to flirt with any girl. ‘I will not fall for his tricks. I will not become one of his girls.’ she had thought sourly as she watched the dog tag bounced on the boy’s bare chest.

‘Though he does look handsome however looks aren’t important to me. I want a guy whose will be faithful to me and not flirt with any girl or woman with boobs,’ She thought. ‘I am not some prize to win. My heart and body aren’t for sale boy.’ She saw him leave the path and he disappeared.

She heard his feet before she heard him speak in her ear “Watcha drawing?” Her heart stay where was as she turn toward him. She raised her left eyebrow at him as if to say. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’ Crossing her arms she glares at him as if daring him to try something.

“Are you sure you want to try those tricks on me boy?” She asked in her musical French/English accent. “Are you sure you want to mess with fellow Slytherin’s little sister.” She was using the nickname Akio has for her. Akio was more then her cousin he was like a brother. One closer to her in age that is. “Because I highly don’t think he would approve of you flirting with his sister.”

[Peter Stonewall]

Peter could tell the whole time he had been running and checking the Gryffindor out that he hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. Those nice, wide eyes watched him warily, like an adorable puppy trying out the water for coldness. But, he didn’t let her see so much that he was watching her, too. She kind of seemed the self-concious type, anyway, and might have thought he was thinking bad things about her, like that he thought her scars were disgusting, which he actually was thinking but wasn’t letting it show. He knew he was very appealing to females older and young alike, and he figured she was no different than the other girls. Of course everyone was different and all, on the outside, but Peter knew that on the inside they were all the same, under their personality layers. That was one thing he had learned in his high-end wizarding elementary school etiquette classes that he’d never forget—people cared about themselves more than anything else in the world, and anyone who seemed to care about them just as much as they cared about themselves are in their good graces. Easy stuff.


She had continued doodling in her book, but he was pleased to find that he felt her eyes on him a lot more they were on the drawing. When he sneaked up and asked what she was drawing, the brunette sat up stiffly and turned to him, eyebrow poised up, asking what he could help her with and crossing her arms against her flat chest, putting up barriers both mentally and physically by her expressions and body language. Obviously she was being coy, considering that one didn’t put up shields unless they felt threatened—in this case the threat being her immense attraction to him.

“Help me?” he asked innocently, sliding next to her, knees spread as he laced his hands together and stretched his arms toward the grass between his feet and looking up at her beside him from this position, doing his best to look boyishly charming as he grinned at her with feax bashfulness. “I only asked what you were drawing, my belle.” he said, using a French word that he thought she might like.

“Are you sure you want to try those tricks on me boy?” she asked in the nasally accent of the French. Peter reapplied his innocent expression. Tricks, hm? She seemed pretty paranoid to him. Why would she be so suspicious of a nice guy like Peter? So far he hadn’t done so much to her as say hello and let her look at him—he hadn’t even used a pick-up line or anything. Tricks. Pshah! “Are you sure you want to mess with fellow Slytherin’s little sister.” The second year scanned his memory for a Slytherin with the last name Stacy, but his memory came up a blank, as there was none. Well, none that had earned his attention. “Because I highly don’t think he would approve of you flirting with his sister.” He thought hard about whether he remembered an older snake who looked like May. Nothing swam to mind, except her cousin, Akio, a shrimpy asian boy with a French accent that matched May’s. Peter shrugged. That he knew of, May had no relatives other than that. Of course, there were rumours floating around the school about the Stacy fortune, and how the whole family was killed a long time ago, but that was it. He didn’t care to retain much of the details about things that he didn’t care about, so it was all pretty fuzzy. The end of this train of thought was just that May didn’t even have a brother attending Hogwarts.

Making no protest to her statement about his flirting with her, as that’s exactly what he was going to do, he ignored everything about the brother—because what her brother thought didn’t actually matter to him, and he was pretty sure that any kid who tried to rough him up for talking to a girl would get their lights punched out for bugging him about something so unimportant—unless if her brother was Bathazar Harkonen, which he doubted was the case. Zar had really massive guns, so Peter let him go most of the time on some of the crap he dealt Peter. The second year Slytherin ignored the comment about the brother completely and put his finger in the eye of the man May was sketching on her page. “Whose this, my Belle? Your imaginary brother? Or, not. I bet I know who it is…” he put his fist under his cheek and kept looking up into her round, freckled face from his still-bent-over position. “…I bet he’s your boyfriend, yeah?” he tapped his finger in the drawing of the man’s eye.

[May Marie Stacy]

‘Maybe he doesn’t remember me from the high end wizarding elementary school. He was in the same etiquette classes as me and Akio when he was here visiting. I may have attending Muggle school but I did study my wizarding heritage at the wizard school. ’ she thought to herself filling in face of the man with colours. Careful she filled in the man’s warm green eyes, small nose with a oval face and softly pink lips. His dark brown skin tone was three or four shade darker then May’s moderate brown olive skin tone.

She slide away keeping herself away from him. Trust wasn’t a easy thing for May. Boys were lucky she knew how to keep herself from killing them. She had her reasons for not trusting males but this boy she didn’t trust as far as she could throw him. Her eyes watched him as he flirt with one of her friends at the ball. She had stay out of the way in her grown and mask. Sense that he would be up to no good she tried to keep herself at a safe way away from this boy.


“Help me?” she heard him asked innocently. Staring at his gray-green with her blue green eyes. Something in her was screaming that this boy wasn‘t to be trusted. She didn‘t understand why but she knew who his father was. Oh she knew who the father of this troublesome boy was. Stanley Stonewall who at one time had been one of her mother‘s injury players. “I only asked what you were drawing, my belle.”

“You sadly need a course of flirting from the French boy,” she said. “Because your air de flamboiement is lacked.” Her smirk was growing across her face. She turned on her own charm that she had learned from her full-blood veela blood cousin. “Your subtly needs also needs work. I‘m sure Akio my brother would love to give you a ran for your money. Your subtly is like a snail.” she adds sweetly. “You would think who your father is you would have learned how to flirt.” She knew that was hitting below the belt.

She felt like her hand was going to snaked out and grabbed his wrist of the hand the finger touching her picture but she stop herself. Tighten her hand on her highlighter. 'Take a calmly breath.' she thought. “Hardly. The man in my drawing is my father.” She hissed at him letting the fire in her eyes show. “Every thought about checking your slytherin Quidditch teams pictures about seven years ago. My birth brother Charles may have left seven years ago. I will not be a easy caught boy. Don‘t you think you would have learned to have left me alone in our wizarding school.”

[Peter Stonewall]

As he had purposefully been invading the brunette’s space, he wasn’t too surprised when she scooted away from him, further down the fountain, shooting him a sort of glare with those round eyes. He really wished she didn’t have that ugly scar that marred her pretty face, but he remedied her move away by scooting toward her with a mischevious grin. At this, the Gryffindor told him he needed some lessons in flirting from the French, because his something-or-other was lacking or whatever. “Hey, you’re right,” he agreed readily, knowing she was being coy. “Gee, aren’t you French, May? With my obvious lack of ability, I could sure use a study session with you on how to impress you.”

After that was when she mentioned his father, which was really beneath a Pureblood to do—bring family flaws to the table. Sure they did it all of the time, but whatever. It was still beneath her, because he cared about his father’s reputation… sort of. Secretly he harboured deep resentment for his philandering father for the way he treated his wife and Peter’s mother, but nobody insulted his dad! “From what I hear, my dad wasn’t the initiator, Stacy.” he mentioned, “apparently, according to the Seeker at the time, your mother was the one unhappy in her relationship at home and sought my father out.” He said, exaggerating the story quite a bit. For all he knew, May’s mother had been faithful at least at first and all. But he figured making May suffer emotionally for the emotional blows she was dealing to him wasn’t such a crime.

“Oh, he’s your father, then? Good.” He smiled, “I’d hate to think I had serious competition and all.” Then when May kept on going about her family, he rolled his eyes… until she mentioned him learning to leave her alone or something. “You went to Madam Theo’s Academy? I don’t believe it. Tell me how we met, would you?” He was skeptical that she was serious about attending the same school, as it was expensive stuff, but then he remembered that the Stacy’s were supposedly well-endowed with monetary blessings, and it wasn’t so hard to believe. He tried to remember whether there was a little girl covered in scars back in the Academy, but nothing came to mind. He had been a different person back then, a romantic instead of a player, giving the teacher flowers, and blowing ladies kisses and all. That was back when his dad hadn’t been around much, when his career had just been starting out, when Peter was around five or so. He had been a very sweet boy, then his dad started coming back and having more influence on his son who looked up to him so. He couldn’t remember a lot from so long ago, but he supposed that if he had met May it would have been when he was around eight or so.

[May Marie Stacy]

May was growing very annoy with this Slytherin. She wanted to push him into the water. “The only lesson your going to get from me boy is how to fix your teeth,” she comment. “After I punch you!” ‘I would do more then punch him.’ She thought growing annoy with this boy who didn’t seem to get term leave her alone.

“My mother may have been many things but she was no saint Stonewall,” said a calm May. “She used her charm to help heal your stubborn father or those on the team. It isn’t my mother’s fault if he thought she wanted him.” She had seen her mom work and she knew what her had done may not have looked favourable among purebloods but her mother wasn’t a pureblood witch. “The only time my mother was unhappy was when she couldn’t carry a child to term. She never seek anyone out.”

“Where else was I supposed to go,” she said with a smirk. “I haven’t always had these scars.” she spoke pointing to the scar on her face. She reach out and pulled out a class camp picture. Holding it up May pointed to a younger Peter and on the other side of the picture beside the student aid that had a few of May’s characteristic. She was holding hands with a then fifteen year old boy. A good hand of them where dressed in a Quidditch uniform. The younger May had sling over her left shoulder a beater bat. She was scar-free. “This was the summer before I got them.” The younger May had a smirk in her face has she throw the bat up into the air. “I was one of the few girls who could wield a beater bat. I was different on the field then I was off the field. Off field I was found in either the Art or music room.”

“You did walk in on me singing a few times,” she said with a smirk. “You gave me this when it had been my sixth birthday.” Pulling out a white rose from inside her bag. “You placed it in my hair when I wasn’t looking. I think I was either looking at a song or working on a art project.”

[Peter Stonewall]

After Peter had asked for her advice on how to impress her, May made a funny threat, raising her fist and mentioning punching him, and he laughed as he rolled his grey-green eyes. “Yeah, yeah. With your tiny arms? You’d hardly make a dent in me. Just try.” He knew that if she really did try to go for his nose, or even his stomach, he would catch her fist before she could do any real damage. He was quite a bit bigger than the little lioness, and though he probably wouldn’t hurt a girl he would never let one hurt him… because that would make him look pretty weak.

May calmed down, though, because she began talking about her mother and his father again. To be honest, he didn’t know a lot about the incident, nor did he sincerely care. He pushed his curls back with an aloof shrug. “Not that anything between our parents matters anymore, Poppet. They moved past it, so it’s not like it matters to us.” he overemphasized the stress on ‘us’.

“Well, you’ve got a point there; anyone whose anyone goes to Madam Theo’s, aye?” he said with a smirk, Then May gestured to her hideous scars that marred her face, and he wondered why she didn’t just get them magically altered. Even getting rid of them by crude muggle means, like getting cut up by a surgeon, would be better than just leaving them on her face like that. Didn’t she want to be normal and beautiful? Peter subconsciously fingered the bridge of his nose, feeling the smooth, blemishless skin that he cared for so diligent thouroughness. The Stacy family had all the monetary support they could hope for, and yet May hadn’t gotten the scars removed. He wondered why, but didn’t bring it up.

May slid an old picture out from the pages of her sketchbook where it had apparently been holding a place for some drawing, and with a start Peter found that it was a photo he was actually familiar with, because he had a copy of his own in his room back at the vast Stonewall estate. It was one in a series of about five or six of the same kind, one for each year he attended school at Madam Theo’s Academy before being accepted into Hogwarts, where he learned all of the necessary skills, like writing and arithmetic. In the picture he saw himself, much shorter, pudgier, and happier, blushing as he held the hand of a young, round-faced beater-girl with blue, blue eyes. Near to them was the woman he once knew as his father’s team’s Healer, Mrs. Stacy, as she held hands with an older boy, a boy whose picture Peter had seen in the Slytherin Team photos in the commonroom. He remembered tailing the boy around at camp vaguely, but mostly he remembered the girl he was holding hands with in the photo, especially as May began talking about Beating and art and music. The memory of the smell of a musty attic and old perfume filled his mind as the image of a white rose in brown hair filled his mind. A honey-sweet voice, clear like a crystal lake, smooth as honey and just as sweet, turned out a pretty melody in his mind. “Maaaa-RI-aaaaaah” the voice sang, a song from a muggle movie called West Side Story, then himself, younger, joins in as the young May plays the piano. “I just met a girl named Mariaaaaa…” Peter was a good singer, but he had never let anyone but one person hear his voice before. And that person was a girl he only knew as…

“Marie!” He exclaimed, grabbing her hand. “You’re Marie! The girl I used to know back at the Academy, right? I know it’s true. I should have known, I guess. The beautiful eyes and the dew-drop button nose are unmistakable.” He remembered very clearly Madam Theo’s old Baby Grand piano in the attic of the old school summer dorms, near that old lake with the gnarly trees and magical one-horned koi fish. He remembered the smell of roses in a pretty little girl’s hair when he put a flower in her hair. He actually had a really strong urge to give her one now, and he grabbed a yellow dandylion flower from beside the fountain and gently put it in her hair for old time’s sake. “I missed you.” He grinned.

[May Marie Stacy]

May felt like snorting at his comment about her tiny arms. ‘I may look small stonewall but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to leave a nasty bruise on someone body,’ she thought sourly to herself as she pushed her falling bangs out of her face. Her scar filled hand brushed again the only scar on her face. The scar just above her right eyebrow if you looked closely.

“Don’t call me Poppet,” May muttered to herself. She heard him overemphasized the word us. May rolls her eyes while biting the inside of her mouth from keeping herself from open her mouth. She stared into his eyes as a memories of her life at the school flashed before her eyes. Deep in her mind buried just behind her memories she could hear a younger Peter as he told her something. She was almost six years and it was just days after the picture of that year campers had been taken. Something Peter had promised her about not turning into his father. “yes,” she said sadly. ‘He didn’t keep the promise then.’

*Memory.*
“I swear I shall never become my father Marie!” said a younger looking Peter. A younger looking and scared May looked up from her book as Peter stormed into May’s bedroom. She raise her eyebrow up at him as she sat down her book. “I hate him!”

“ ‘ter ‘at ‘app’n?” question May whose French accent shown more in her words. “mon ami?” May got off her bed. “ ‘at ‘ong?”

“I am not going to turn into my father!” he said again.
*the end.*

May closes her eyes so she wasn’t looking at the one boy that had held her heart since she was young girl. She could feel the tale sign that she was going to cry but she could tell she was losing the battle slowly has one hot tear slid out of her closed eyes and down her oval face. Soon others followed down her face. The tears where just as hot as the first one.

“Yes,” she said sadly keeping her eyes closed even when she felt him grab her hand. Her eyes kept closed even with tears rolling down her face because she couldn't bear to look at him anymore. She could feel him place something in her hair. “Not even enough to remember your promise to me!” She adds ripping her hand away. “You broke your promise to me Stonewall!” She open her eyes to show him the pain and hurt he now caused her. "You promised me you wouldn't turn out like your father Stonewall. I've watched you for some time and I've seen you flirt with other girls." Fire was taken the place of the pain and hurt.

"To think I might have one day fallen in love with you Stonewall,“ she said angry to Peter. One of few time she had ever called him stonewall after she had gotten to know him was when she was truly mad or upset with him. “If truly cared for me stonewall don't let me see you flirt."

*“ ‘ter ‘at ‘app’n?” : “Peter what happen?”
mon ami: my (male) friend

“ ‘at ‘ong?”: “What wrong?”*