Envy, PG, Anthony Goldstein
Title: Envy
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Set during GoF.
Characters/Ships: Anthony, Lisa, Terry, Michael, Seamus
Genre: General
Summary: Anthony learns a little something from his friends.
Length/Completion: 580 words, complete
Notes: Written for emiime as a bribe gift for posting a story to this archive. Many extra thanks for that! Didn't use your prompt word, as your comment!fic was far too good of a prompt on its own. ;-)
Anthony Goldstein had always admired his mate Lisa Turpin. She had many good qualities, of course, but the one that always stood out to him the most was her tenacity. There was nothing Lisa couldn't obtain or accomplish once she'd set her mind to it, and he'd always been a tiny bit envious of her for that. High marks on Snape's Potions essays, genuine smiles from McGonagall over her thimble-turned-teacup, even coveted access to the Restricted Section of the library. All very impressive accomplishments.
And then she ended up at the Yule Ball with Terry Boot.
That one had especially drawn his attention, made him realise he was actually jealous. Anthony wasn't sure why it had surprised him, considering her track record, but his jaw had actually dropped open when they'd walked in together. He was sure Terry had mentioned something about asking Mandy, but if that was the case, why had his mate looked so giddy doing that ridiculous formal dance with his date? Of course, Anthony had been too busy staring from afar at Seamus Finnigan's arse to really think on it at the time, but he had wondered.
It was two weeks later, when he'd nearly rolled his eyes out of socket at all the couch-cuddling, that he realised maybe it had all been a rather clever ruse on Terry's part. Terry had always been the sharpest of their little group, the one most likely to pick up on the subtleties of a lesson or a conversation and use them to his advantage. Some days it bothered Anthony that he missed such seemingly obvious details, but then Terry was always more than willing to share in the spoils of his success, so he didn't usually mind terribly. But in this case, there would be no sharing (Thank god!), unless one counted far too many eyefuls of groping and lip-locking--which he did not.... So why did that annoy him?
Anthony managed to escape them without seeming too obvious about it, and he found himself out on the Quidditch pitch like always, though it was not his favourite of places. No one was out there anyway--not that he was looking for anyone--and it was still too bloody cold to be outside. He'd nearly turned right back around, determined to return to the common room and simply face the fire rather than the snogging--he did have that Transfiguration essay to finish--when he spotted Michael Corner lingering near the stands.
"You just missed Finnigan," his friend said without preamble, pointing back toward the castle. Anthony didn't even have time to stutter a protest before Michael added, "Stop being such a coward, Goldstein." Then he walked off, broom in hand.
Anthony could only stare after him, open-mouthed. His friend always did have a way with words. Anthony had often wondered why he couldn't just say what he was thinking, tell the truth no matter what the consequences, like Michael did. It would make things so much--
And then all at once, it hit him. Why couldn't he be persistent and clever and honest, too? He was a Ravenclaw, wasn't he? And Ravenclaws were nothing if not good at learning from example.
Now all he had to do was figure out exactly what he needed to say, how he needed to say it, and how many times it would take before Seamus would finally be willing to find out just how good of a learner Anthony could be.
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Set during GoF.
Characters/Ships: Anthony, Lisa, Terry, Michael, Seamus
Genre: General
Summary: Anthony learns a little something from his friends.
Length/Completion: 580 words, complete
Notes: Written for emiime as a bribe gift for posting a story to this archive. Many extra thanks for that! Didn't use your prompt word, as your comment!fic was far too good of a prompt on its own. ;-)
Anthony Goldstein had always admired his mate Lisa Turpin. She had many good qualities, of course, but the one that always stood out to him the most was her tenacity. There was nothing Lisa couldn't obtain or accomplish once she'd set her mind to it, and he'd always been a tiny bit envious of her for that. High marks on Snape's Potions essays, genuine smiles from McGonagall over her thimble-turned-teacup, even coveted access to the Restricted Section of the library. All very impressive accomplishments.
And then she ended up at the Yule Ball with Terry Boot.
That one had especially drawn his attention, made him realise he was actually jealous. Anthony wasn't sure why it had surprised him, considering her track record, but his jaw had actually dropped open when they'd walked in together. He was sure Terry had mentioned something about asking Mandy, but if that was the case, why had his mate looked so giddy doing that ridiculous formal dance with his date? Of course, Anthony had been too busy staring from afar at Seamus Finnigan's arse to really think on it at the time, but he had wondered.
It was two weeks later, when he'd nearly rolled his eyes out of socket at all the couch-cuddling, that he realised maybe it had all been a rather clever ruse on Terry's part. Terry had always been the sharpest of their little group, the one most likely to pick up on the subtleties of a lesson or a conversation and use them to his advantage. Some days it bothered Anthony that he missed such seemingly obvious details, but then Terry was always more than willing to share in the spoils of his success, so he didn't usually mind terribly. But in this case, there would be no sharing (Thank god!), unless one counted far too many eyefuls of groping and lip-locking--which he did not.... So why did that annoy him?
Anthony managed to escape them without seeming too obvious about it, and he found himself out on the Quidditch pitch like always, though it was not his favourite of places. No one was out there anyway--not that he was looking for anyone--and it was still too bloody cold to be outside. He'd nearly turned right back around, determined to return to the common room and simply face the fire rather than the snogging--he did have that Transfiguration essay to finish--when he spotted Michael Corner lingering near the stands.
"You just missed Finnigan," his friend said without preamble, pointing back toward the castle. Anthony didn't even have time to stutter a protest before Michael added, "Stop being such a coward, Goldstein." Then he walked off, broom in hand.
Anthony could only stare after him, open-mouthed. His friend always did have a way with words. Anthony had often wondered why he couldn't just say what he was thinking, tell the truth no matter what the consequences, like Michael did. It would make things so much--
And then all at once, it hit him. Why couldn't he be persistent and clever and honest, too? He was a Ravenclaw, wasn't he? And Ravenclaws were nothing if not good at learning from example.
Now all he had to do was figure out exactly what he needed to say, how he needed to say it, and how many times it would take before Seamus would finally be willing to find out just how good of a learner Anthony could be.