We can be us just for one day

Clytemnestra raised her eyebrows. Whatever girl was causing him trouble must be a real pain in the arse, because she hadn't expected Andrew to agree with her that easily.

It didn't seem to have crossed his mind that maybe she had a hidden agenda, which was strange given the Gryffindor tendency to assume the worst about everyone. Not that she was objecting.

"Why?" she asked wryly. "If I kiss you, do you turn into a frog?"

"But no, I have no problem with reptiles or amphibians. Just because your little admirer is a fainting flower doesn't mean the rest of us are."

Clytemnestra was becoming kind of curious about who this girl Andrew was trying to get away from was. Although, she assumed she'd find out soon enough.

He laughed when she asked if he'd turn into a frog. "Good question," he replied. "I guess we'll have to find out. Seriously, though, I asked because it would be inconvenient if Frog weirded you out too. He's nothing exceptional as frogs go, but he's friendly and he's got a bit of a sarcastic wit that i like," he said. He'd not meant to tell her that he could speak to frogs.

"Ida's too weird, but you'll know her when you see her. Frog got out of my pocket during that bloody big potions test we had a couple weeks ago. Ida freaked, buggared up her potion, spilled it on Frog and turned him a wretched shade of orange for awhile. Ida even got some of it in her hair. Still hasn't gotten it out. I did offer to shave her head for her," Andrew grinned. "She was fairly put out about it. I was hoping for more, actually. But the orange does make her easier to pick out in a crowd."

He had a new thought. "I should really know something about you, shouldn't I? Ida's going to be picking at me for details. Might be good if we were at least close to being on the same page, wouldn't it?"

"You named your frog, Frog," Clytemnestra's reply was deadpan.

She didn't even hesitate when he commented on the animal's wit. Diamond was exactly the kind of lonely loser who'd talk to his pet for lack of real friends.

"Well," she said airily, "there are plenty of frogs that are orange. Mostly the interestingly poisonous kind. Perhaps Frog ought to use it to his advantage."

Clytemnestra found herself hopping up onto the bench next to Andrew.

"Wait, she's going to be pestering you for details?" she asked. "I thought the whole point was to get rid of her? Exactly how long do you think this charade is going to last?"

For a split second, he was tempted to frown at her as if she'd asked him something absurd.

"Hey, I was 9. Maybe 10," he said, in response to calling frog Frog. "And second, I didn't pick his name. I call him Frog because that's what he said he was called."

He hadn't thought of using the orange color for any useful purpose. He had been indulging in visuals of more embarrassing passive aggressive retribution methodology. Still, the orange business might have worked if he'd thought of it.

"It is," he responded when she questioned the point of their agreement. "I'm not counting on it lasting any more than necessary. The sooner its over, the better."

Lux was a closed book, it seemed. Okay, then. Fine, he thought. It was just as well. There was far more about Andrew that he couldn't tell than things that he could. And the last thing he needed was some Slytherin bandying that knowledge about. Offhand he could think of one or two people that would be extremely uncomfortable with just this little bit of monkey business. He could hear them now. The choices in Andrew's life were not entirely his own, and if he were going to be foolish enough to think he knew how to safely let a Slytherin in, he'd better be wise enough to know how to get her back out too.

That's when it hit her. He hadn't been being witty (it was too much to hope for). He was serious.

"Whoa, back up a moment," Clytemnestra demanded. "You were asking me about amphibians because you talk to your frog?"

"That's... pretty cool," she grudgingly allowed. "You gonna introduce me or what? I mean, if I'm pretending to be your girlfriend the least you can do is introduce me to your family."

"Speaking of pretending, we're gonna have to make up some story about why we're together," she said, looking him up and down. "Nobody's ever going to believe this is a purely physical thing."

"How about you tell me everything that's wrong with Slytherins and I'll explain your misconceptions."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Don't remember when I couldn't. You'd be surprised at what you can learn from a frog. They used to tell me all sorts of stuff about the woods and the creek behind my house. Especially about things like weather changes or new animals in the area. Gotta know who might eat you if you're only an inch or so big."

He reached in his shirt pocket for the tiny bright green frog. Frog was rather small as tree frogs went. He was only a little over an inch and a half long, and he tended to hang on the inside of Andrew's pocket. Andrew had to coax him gently to let go of the pocket and then he drew him out of the pocket, letting the frog rest in the palm of his open hand.

"Here he is," Andrew said. "Hard for me to understand why anybody would need to throw a full-on conniption over something this small." Excuses? About why they were together. Good question. "Well, you wouldn't surely be with me for my stunning good looks," he said bluntly. "Can't claim genius intelligence either. You might need to fall back on not having any clue whatsoever about why. As for my part, I don't know you well enough to dislike you. So, aside from the Slytherin thing, I can honestly say there isn't much I don't like." Yeah, never mind he'd only known her for the last few minutes.

"And I'll tell you all the stuff I've heard about Slytherins, if you tell me all the junk you've heard about Gryffindors."

The frog was way less interesting than Clytemnestra had expected. Andrew wasn't actually introducing them (she'd been looking forward to him talking in frog-speak), he was just showing the thing to her.

"Hi, Frog," she said, before looking at Andrew expectantly. "Aren't you going to tell him who I am?"

But Andrew was already musing over the possible reasons anyone would be attracted to him, which were apparently none. Clytemnestra wondered what this Ida girl saw in him.

"I'll just tell people I'm using you," she told him with a shrug. "It's practically the truth, anyway."

When he spoke next she scrunched up her nose in confusion. What on earth did he mean?

"I haven't heard things about Gryffindors, I know things about Gryffindors," she corrected. "Like how you're all stupid enough to go running headlong into any danger you can find. Hey, that's obviously why you like me. You can tell people I'm dangerous."

"Telling people I like you because you're dangerous might be the one thing they would believe," Andrew said. "Some of the people I know are fairly anti-Slytherin. I've heard them say just about anything from Slytherins being just mischevious to being all fairly lethal. It sounds fairly rude to just come out and ask someone if everyone in their house is a spawn of Voldemort. So, yeah, I would like to know the truth."

"I'll introduce you to Frog," Andrew said. "You know, though, it doesn't sound a bit different to me, so I don't what it sounds like to anyone else." He told Frog her name. Frog blinked its eyes once slowly before it responded.

"I told him your name and told him you were my friend," He said to her. "He'll remember Lux, but Clytemnestra is a bit long for him, no offense...." As he was speaking the little frog made a sound that was something between a beep and a bark. Andrew paused a moment and looked at Lux.

"Okay, that doesn't exactly translate into words. Its a tree frog thing," Andrew said, thinking of how he was going to explain it. "For him, climbing a tree is key to survival, to fun, to a lot of things. He asked me if you climb. The best I can explain it is that he wants to know how smart you are, more or less. He thinks if you're smart, you'll be able to climb. Like I said, its a frog thing."

Clytemnestra wasn't about to tell Andrew that she'd been named after a queen who killed her husband since he apparently didn't already know. She just nodded.

"Of course everyone's not the spawn of Voldemort. There is a bunch of idiots who think it's edgy to look up dark magic in the library and call people mudblood, but honestly most of us aren't even pureblood ourselves," she said.

It was fascinating watching Andrew talking to the little creature in his hand, but Clytemnestra wasn't going to let him know that. Especially not when he tried to translate to her. Honestly!

"Then tell him I can climb," she told him immediately.

"No, tell him I'm a better climber than you," she corrected.

"Pfft," Andrew snorted. "I'll tell him, but he's not gonna believe you." He didn't honestly think she was necessarily that interested in being believed by a frog anyway. He relayed the message to the frog who merely blinked.

He hadn't missed what she'd said about Slytherins, not at all. "I'm sure you're right. Not everyone's a git, and I know the hat didn't sort all the gits into one house. Got some in my own." That wasn't a surprise, was it? Gryffindors could be enormous asshats.

He knew he could be one himself. He'd never been social, had never liked people all that much. He'd been thirteen before he'd found any human beings that showed they had much honesty in them, and he knew he had a bitter side because of it.

"I don't know that the hat didn't get me wrong. I don't meet the textbook definition. Can't say I'd volunteer to dash off a cliff for someone else, actually. I think I'd have been a better Ravenclaw."