Peggy stood by the staircase, waiting for Thompson. The picture next to her depicted an elderly woman in a black cloak with decrepit, yet kind face.
"What time did you say he supposed to meet you?" the old woman asked Peggy again, her voice a raspy whisper. Peggy glanced at her watch.
"About… forty minutes ago," she replied with a huff. She slid down the wall and sat down, cursing Dooley for pairing her with such a selfish bastard, Thompson for actually standing her up, and herself for thinking maybe she could get this assignment done if she put in personal effort.
"The thing about these male students nowadays is that they lack chivalry. Why, my husband would never make me wait. He'd arrive to pick me up at least 15 minutes before all of our dates," the woman said fondly. Peggy chuckled lightly as she leaned against the wall, sliding down to sit.
"Thompson isn't my date- he's my partner for this Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment we just got," she corrected with a snort.
"Mercyme, that boy is potentially hurting your grade! Don't snort, dear, act like a lady," the woman asked, pulling yarn and knitting needles from the folds of her cloak. She began knitting erratically.
"Sorry, ma'am," Peggy said, taking out her Dark Arts textbook, The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Anyways, that boy sounds like a bad dream," the woman added, slowing her knitting to a more human pace.
Peggy raised an eyebrow. "More like a nightmare," she muttered, flipping to page 154 to view the list of typical attack spells that were used. Of course, they wouldn't be of much use against the boggart but she figured they might come in handy if Thompson was too bothersome.
She yawned and glanced at her watch again. Nearly a quarter afterl. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, shutting her book and glancing at the old woman's frame. She appeared to be sound asleep.
Peggy smiled faintly and stood, stretching. There was no point in waiting for Thompson any longer; honestly, she didn't know why she had waited so long for him anyways. The naive part of her must have thought that even if he couldn't stand her, he would at least care enough about his personal grades to stick with the plan.
"Not like a boggart is hard to handle," she muttered under her breath as she started up the stairs her way to the Gryffindor dormitory.
There were still a few students milling about in the halls, so she thought nothing of the loud footsteps coming up the stairs behind her. However, the hand grabbing her elbow caught her attention.
She whirled around and swung her bag at a boy, hitting them squarely in the stomach., not really taking the time to figure out who it was. Whoever it was let go of her and folded over, cursing.
"Bloody hell, Carter," a familiar voice groan. He winced as he straightened up, placing his hand on his injury. "Is that how you say 'hello' back home?"
Peggy glared at him. "It is if they're someone I waited on for almost an hour, like I did with you, Thompson." To her surprise, he chuckled at that.
"Yeah, I might've hit me, too," he relented. Peggy shifted on her feet uncomfortably, readjusting her bag on her shoulder since she no longer appeared to have a need for it. "So are we gonna do this or what?"
Peggy shook her head at him, scoffing. "No, we're not. I'm going to help my friends with the Transfiguration essay." She turned and continued walking up the stairs, rolling her eyes in annoyance.
"Carter, c'mon," he asked, scrambling after her. She could practically feel him reaching for her arm again so she turned to face him once more.
"It's not happening tonight. We agreed that seven would work for the both of us because we have different schedules and it happened to fit. And right now, mine's full," she said stiffly. "Goodnight, Thompson. I'll see you tomorrow in Dark Arts. Perhaps we can reschedule and stick with it then." She gave a tiny nod to herself as she pivoted away and marched upwards with conviction.
She reached the Fat Lady and flashes a faux smile as she said the password, entering the common room as quickly as she could. She almost knocked over a lamp in her haste to get to Dugan and Angie.
As she tumbled into a large chair by the fire, Angie cast an annoyed glance in her direction. "Glad you finally decided we were worthy of your help."
Peggy opened her mouth to sigh, but it turned into a yawn that seemed to irritate Angie even more. "We're already boring her Dugan and she hasn't even been here a minute." Dum Dum winced sympathetically at Peggy, shrugging. Peggy held back a grumble and straightened up, blinking to make herself more alert.
"Sorry, Ang. Thompson didn't show up until I was leaving. We didn't even get anything done," Peggy said, trying not to sound apathetic. Angie relaxed a little and faced her again, sending an apologetic smile.
"You're right, I know you wouldn't willingly hang out with Thompson for longer than you had to," Angie said. "Anyways, Transfiguration. Do you understand this, Yankee? I don't understand any of this and there's a reason Dugan's called Dum Dum."
"Hey!" Dugan grumbled, stealing Angie's quill.
"Kidding, I was kidding," Angie grinned. Peggy rolled her eyes and pulled out her finished essay. Angie snatched it up.
"Thanks, Yankee!" she said, pulling out her enchanted quill that copied lessons and homework for her.
"Ooo, Angie, can I borrow that?" Dugan asked, excited.
"Oh, yeah, no problem," she replied. Peggy smiled and snuggled back into her chair, forgetting the annoyance she had with Thompson earlier as she drifted off into sleep.
Boggart next chapter, promise! Thanks for all the attention this has been getting; it's super awesome. Love this fandom :)