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The untold and erratic diaries of Crisia Lovegood by reavreav

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Format: Novel
Chapters: 5
Word Count: 7,716
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Contains Spoilers

Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Characters: Scorpius, Albus, James (II), Lily (II), OC
Pairings: Other Pairing, Rose/Scorpius

First Published: 11/14/2008
Last Chapter: 04/15/2009
Last Updated: 04/15/2009

Summary:
Amazingwondefulgreatspiffing banner by Pinnie the Wooh at TDA!




Due to an unfortunate crumple-horned snorcack related accident her parents went on, Crisia Lovegood is now an orphan. Living with her deranged grandfather, Crisia despairs about life. She is outstandingly normal compared to the rest of her family (although that's not saying much), attracts the wrong boys, and keeps being mistaken for her mother. This is her story


Chapter 1: Chapter 1: IT'S CRISIA.
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I’m really excited for writing a next gen ^_^

The characters have no boundaries and you can write and write random crap to your heart’s content! Ok so please review and tell me your thoughts. I thrive on constructive criticism like bacteria on toilet seats!


 




 

Chapter 1.

 

Oh great, the first comment of the year. Every single year. I’ve got the ancient and somewhat unhinged professor Flitwick this year for charms, seeing as my old and usual teacher’s gone to work at another school. I have a feeling it was James Potter’s doing. He’s a crafty one. Anyway, back to the thing on hand.

 

“Luna, could you pass me the-“

“My name is Crisia.” I pointed out blankly. The Professor looked up at me confusedly. “Oh, dear, your antics just keep getting stranger and stranger! Now, could you pass me the box full of-“

“I don’t think you quite understood me, sir, my name is Crisia. Luna Lovegood was my mother. I am aware that we look extremely alike, I have seen the photos, but she does not go to this school anymore, so could you please address me by my correct name?” Oops. First rant of today. He looks a bit angry now.

“Ok, Christina, go and sit down.” The tiny professor told me in deliberate icy tones.

 

Well, he hates me. That’s another one then. Most people hate me, actually. My family doesn’t quite like me because I wasn’t sorted into Ravenclaw, the teachers hate me because I’m a bit, well, frank sometimes, most of the female population of Hogwarts hate me because Edgar Zabini keeps following me around, hinting that he would like to get me into his flea-ridden bed and ‘Ram it to me hard’ as I heard him whispering to a somewhat disgusted Antonin Finch-Fletchy in the library. He, apparently, is the ‘super hunk’ at Hogwarts, and the girls are jealous of me or something. Those poor, deranged things. I do pity them sometimes. Well, most people hate me, anyway, and the people that like me really do mean everything to me:

 

There’s Faith-Beatrice Brown, who insists on being called by her full, double-barrelled first name. I call her Faithby, just to piss her off. She’s clever and quite bland, but amazingly loyal and quite a good argument person. She has brown hair and brown eyes and is quite brown, really. If she was a colour, she would be brown. We met in first year when I tripped over her bag strap and she said “Oh I’m so sorry” And I said “I like your hair” (incredibly shiny) and then we just talked and talked and then became best friends.

 

Another one of my posse is Laura Trihumphreys. She has massive boobs and makes weird noises sometimes and has funny lips and is quite the alcoholic. She gives nice hugs and weird advice and I can be my total self around her- from pretending life’s a musical to walking in to doors and jumping on her when she’s not looking. And I’m the normal one. She has quite a lot of freckles and green eyes and pink pink lips and acts like a complete rebel, when she’s really not.

 

The final member of my group of cool kids is Oliver Twang. He has a funny name and I always tease him. His mum is Cho Chang who’s Chinese too, believe it or not, and he’s not in Ravenclaw either, so we both slag off our Gryffindor hating families and high five a lot. He thinks he’s a pimp because he hangs around with 3 quite amazingly gorgeous girls (if I may say so myself) and we all laugh at him but he thinks we’re laughing with him. Tehehe. He’s really skinny and quite cool, because he helps me with my Potions homework, which I don’t really get, and he holds my hand when Zabini comes close, which is nice.


 




 

I came out of Charms in quite a remarkably bad mood. Someone came up behind me and put their arm around me. The only Slytherin I liked and fellow fifth year, Albus Potter, was walking next to me and peering down into my face. “Hello midget!” He shouted in to my face. He was smiling quite daftly. Hmm, curious. I’d have to think about that one later.

 

“Yes, hardihar, I’m about 5 feet smaller than the average 16-year-old, what do you want Potter?” I said, although I was saying it in a nice, friendly way like I do.

“You love telling off teachers, don’t you?” he smirked. Arrgh. “How did you hear about that?! You’re not even in my charms class! And he kept calling me Luna, and I tried to tell him and he’s so annoying but you know what? I’m taller than him.” I added smugly. Wow, second rant of today. I’m really on a roll.

 

Albus Severus Potter looked at me quizzically, and then began humming a tune. So we walked, arms around each other, to lunch where he sat with me at the Gryffindor table. “Ahoyhoy brother! So nice of you to join us on the Gryffindor table today! May I ask what brought you here, fine fellow?” James Potter was certainly strange. The closest bond any Slytherin and Gryffindor have has got to be his and Albus’. It’s quite amusing actually. But weird and they speak funny sometimes. Albus eats lunch on the Gryffindor table sometimes, like 3 times a week, and it’s nice because he bores me with quidditch.

 

“Why, yes, dearest sibling, sir! I am sitting at this fine table today, and I must say it is lovely to see you! How’s the team shaping up?” He added, in his normal voice. They’re both captains of their separate quidditch teams, which is hilarious when you come to think of it. James tapped is nose mysteriously, winked at me, ruffled some random Hufflepuff’s hair and ran off, tripping over just outside the great hall. He’s an entertaining lad.

 

Just when I had been put into an excellent mood by the Potters, I felt someone fiddling with my bra strap and turned round to see Edgar Zabini standing there with a determined look on his face. I jumped up and got out my wand, closely followed by Albus, but before either of us could say anything, the pervert fell over and began wobbling. Wobbling like jelly. ‘Well now, that’s peculiar’, I found myself thinking amusedly, and then Faith-Beatrice joined us, looking on at the scene with a mild indifference plastered on her face. “Faithby, you scoundrel, did you do this!?” I asked her in my sternest voice. “It’s the full-body jelly curse, I found it in a library book. Works quite well” She remarked. And with that, I linked arms with her, waved goodbye to Albus Severus Potter and we headed to the Gryffindor common room together.


 




 

EEP! How’d you like it? I’m not too great at writing fluff, so tell me what you think! I’m loving writing it, and I just hope you’re having a good time reading it too. REVIEW IF YOU’RE COOL!

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The potential boyfriend list
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Just a filler-y type chapter, to get you into the swing of things. A bit more of an introduction to all of the main characters, and just a little stream into the sea of plot!!

Please enjoy and review!

 


 






 

 

Chapter 2

 

“But why does that happen? Twangy, I just don’t get it.” I whined audibly in the library.

“You need to understand this!” Oliver started, a little exasperated. “If the-“

“If the reaction is accompanied by lace-wing flies, dermolina juice and a little crushed frozen pomegranate, the potion neutralizes, making it less dangerous to the half-formed werewolf. Then, if you add some mandrake roots, which are very hard to come buy, might I add, the potion solidifies and you get a balbasser stone. Simple!” I heard Faithby’s voice reel off. I looked up to see her and Laura looking down at me sympathetically. I glanced at Laura and we shared a look, trying not to laugh.

“And this is why I don’t let her tutor me, Chris.” Laura’s high-pitched voice sounded.

 

I love my friends. I went off into my own little world, they were having a conversation and I was just thinking about how much I truly love them. What wonderful-

 

How many times do I have to tell you lot?! NO TALKING IN THE LIBRARY!” Madam Pince interrupted my lovely thoughts. She shouted quite loudly, too, which is quite contradictory, seeing as she’s always telling us to be quiet. Also, she’s really old and can’t hear properly so it was even louder. You get me.

 

Faithby and Laura scurried off, and with one last glare at me and Oliver, Madam Pince hurried off (as fast as someone of that age can hurry) to pry on some other people’s conversations. “You need to understand this, Crisia, it will definitely come up in NEWTs.” Oliver said to me sternly in hushed tones, looking around surreptitiously in case the hag was still listening.

 

“Newts, newts, newts!” I whisper-shouted, sounding like some crazy owl-obsessed person. “I hate newts! Why do we have to do them? I want to be smart like you. Twangerino...”

“One: you are clever, you just suck at listening in potions, two: can you stop calling NEWTs ‘newts’, please? It gets confusing.”

“I think we are done here, my firm friend.” I concluded. That could have been ambiguous, too, because he’s a boy, and he has a firm friend sometimes. Titter, titter. I do make myself laugh. He didn’t get it though.

 

We were walking up the corridor to the common room, tired and talking about deer, when someone came out from behind a tapestry (probably a concealed corridor behind there, aye?) and jumped onto us both. It wasn’t very hard to knock us over, seeing as I’m the size of a dwarf, and Twang is, well, skinny as a rake and a bit of a weed. I sat up and looked at our attacker. It was James Potter. He’s a seventh year and quite hunky dory, but really weird and a bit of an annoyance, as you would gather from the whole ‘knocking me and Oliver over when we were tired and after a hard study session almost past curfew’ thing.

 

“James Potter! Did your father teach you anything about manners or was he too tired after WWII?!” (the wiz war, not the world war... duh). “That was a low blow, Lovegood. Peace be with you” he said solemnly, but with flashy eyes. And with that, he ran off. I helped up Oliver because he’s my potions tutor and my firm friend and we had to quickly hurry to the common room or else we would die. Well, not die, but we would be punished for being out of bed. And that wouldn’t do because on Sundays you need your rest.


 






 

Monday morning, oh joy to everyone! Mondays are my least favourite day of the week, closely followed my Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. This particular Monday I had to wake up early because it was only the second week of school and it wouldn’t really do me good to be late this early in term. Once you’ve passed Christmas, you can begin setting your alarm later and later until the summer when no one really cares if you come into third lesson out of breath but beautiful claiming a hippogriff ate your alarm clock. It’s quite funny because I did that last year and Binns didn’t even notice.

 

Anyway, this is what I was thinking; ‘oh no, oh no! Don’t be late to breakfast darling!” I was thinking this to myself, I often call myself darling, or babes, or sweetheart. I’m not so weird. I managed to get down to breakfast fairly speedily, because I had packed my bag the night before, clever me. I sat down next to Laura, and, to my dismay, she was talking about Fred Weasley. Laura is obsessed with Fred Weasley. He’s the Potters’ cousin I think (their family is very confusing) and has red hair and is quite nice but humorous at the same time, and is named after a dead bloke who was his uncle and his dad has one ear. He’s quite interesting. “And he told me a joke! It was the funniest joke, you know, about a…” Yes, I did not want to know. I glanced over at Oliver and Faith-Beatrice, who were both nodding politely and smiling, but I could tell by the glazed-over look in their eyes they were clearly not listening.  Oliver was clearly thinking about…well… what boys think about. Faithby was probably thinking about writing essays or how she can make her hair shinier and I was just… thinking.

 

Fred was in the same year as James who was his maternal cousin… who was one year above Albus, who was… 2 or 3 years above Lily Potter? I don’t know.. this gets far too confusing. I’m going to get Al to make me a Potter/Weasley/Delacour/Jordan/Clearwater/whoever else family tree.

 

I zoned back just in time to hear Laura saying oh-so-joyfully, “Isn’t that great?! Things are moving on, fellows!” Oh, Laura, despite your amazing mind and huge breasts and squeaky little voice and funny lips and tendency to drink a bit too much, you are clueless.

 

We all heard a rather pronounced and mirthful shout of laughter from the doors to the hall. We all looked and we saw James and Al running towards us (Al, kind of skipping, he was the more effeminate one) looking excited and mischievous. To my utter alarm, they stopped right in front of us and looked into my face.

“You’re in the boys’ toilets on the fifth floor” James grinned manically.

“No, dear, I believe I am in the great hall eating breakfast” I replied slowly, because he was a bit silly.

“’Crisia Lovegood, although being weird and talking strange, is the most beautiful creature on earth. I love her and I want her to be mine. I would certainly tap that.’ And below that it says ‘I second that’ and ‘hear, hear’ and in smaller writing it says ‘I wonder who this is except Zabini, you dirty foul prick, you’re disgusting.’

 I didn’t know you were so wanted Christopher!!” James added.

 

I just looked at him. I was agog. My mouth was agape, and my mind was… a-whirring. Ew. I didn’t actually think people actually wrote things in toilets. That’s a bit gross.

 

I heard Oliver giggle. “I wrote that last one! That’s funny.” I wouldn’t exactly call that funny. But hmmmm… 2 people other than Zabini have agreed with that and... wowza that means I am wanted! I would be happy if I wasn’t so disgusted.

 

“That’s yucky” I finished the conversation a bit childishly, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

 

In potions, we had a cover lesson because Professor Ileana was away for some reason. And guess who covered? BINNS. Hardihar. That meant that I was alone in potions, sitting by myself, and I had nothing to do but listen to his lecture on amortenia.  ‘Zing!’ I thought to myself as a light bulb flashed above my head, ‘I can make a list of potential boyfriends!’ So while it looked like I was taking notes, I was infact thinking really hard on whom I wouldn’t really mind going out with.

 

 

Right so first… Robert Boot’s quite nice looking, although he’s a Ravenclaw, so Granddad X would make him marry me or bore him with tiaras etc etc etc.

In the end, this was the list I came up with, and I was quite happy with it.

 

 

CRISIA LOVEGOOD’S POTENTIAL BOYFRIEND LIST.

1. Robert Boot (I might not have to introduce him to my family)

2. Albus Potter, although I don’t fancy him, it would be nice.

3. James Potter; an older, better looking Potter, fellow Gryffindor, albeit a little silly and weird. My cuppa tea.

4. Scorpius Malfoy yummy yum. He is GORGEOUS. He’s a Gryffindor but wouldn’t go out with me because… well he just wouldn’t. He’s in my year too, and we have Astronomy together. I think he fancies Rose Weasley anyway…sigh.

5. Thomas Flint. He’s a Slytherin, but what does that matter nowadays? He gave me a book I forgot to take from the library once... hunky.

 

I showed this to Laura once we got out of potions and she looked immensely relieved to see that Fred Weasley wasn’t on it. Bless her.


 






 

I was sitting on my bed in the dormitory, trying to do my charms homework, but finding it quite hard since all the girls in my dorm were having a noisy pillow fight. I couldn’t go and do it in the common room because then all of the duelling and swearing and games of dares would distract me. It gets worse every year.

Tap tap tap.

Gosh, they’re even making tapping noises now.

Tap tap tap.

I looked up and saw an owl at the window. Laura had apparently seen it, too, because she was tripping over her pyjama bottoms to get to the window. I could tell she thought it would be from Fred. What a dear. She gaped a gape that was not a good gape. I went over to her, but no one else did because they were still roughly banging each other on the heads with pillows. She handed me the piece of parchment without a word.

 

It was my potential boyfriends list.

Phew. No worries then. Someone returned it to me. I was getting worried it would be lost.

Oh, but then I noticed the words in colour-changing ink at the bottom.

I have published this.


What a week this is turning out to be.

 






 

If I’ve got the whole Weasley/Potter family thing wrong, please tell me because I am confused to no end!

Review and tell me what you think.

I was shocked to see that a mere 3 of you reviewed last chapter. And it had 40 reads up to now (24th November) which is quite appalling. If you read, please please review or else I will cut off my ears or make something dreadful happen in this story or set a ghost on you. Beware.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Silly, silly Oliver Twang.
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The next morning, I came down the stairs into the common room to see a lot of people milling around the notice board. ‘Oh yay!’ thought I, ‘Hogsmeade weekend!’ There was indeed a Hogsmeade weekend sign, but that’s not what everyone was looking at and talking about. Oh God. Before I had the sense to run upstairs again and pretend to be ill, a first year noticed me, giggled rather too loudly for my liking, and hit her friend who turned around and stared at me Soon the whole common room was staring. I COULD NOT AT ALL COSTS be seen by anyone on that list. Alas, knowing my luck, the next person to see me was Scorpius Malfoy. Gee. How was he going to take this? He smirked awkwardly, blushed, patted my shoulder and quickly turned and walked briskly out of the portrait hole. Shit.

 

The whole day everyone was staring and whispering about me. I think whoever the person who was such a prick to publish my Potential Boyfriend List must’ve got it on all the common room notice boards. WAAAA. I think he (or she) must’ve used the geminio charm. Well, I think I was overreacting, really. Laura swears no one was looking at me, and I was just being paranoid. I believe her to some extent.

 

It was DADA after lunch, so I waited until everyone was gone from the Common room before I snuck down and surreptitiously made my way there. I didn’t really mind being late, because I didn’t like the teacher anyway. But when I was halfway there, I realised it would cause more people to stare if I walked in. Wooooopsie.

 

Just as I was about to turn a corner, I heard an infernal whistling noise. It was coming from the corner I was about to turn. How annoying. As I turned the corner and saw who was making the whistling noise, I wished I could have turned back. However, being the brave and noble Gryffindor I am, I held my head up high, straightened my back and tried to muster as much confidence and coolness as I could. It was ruined, however, when I trod on my laces, stumbled, and fell into him. Damn, damn, damn.

 

“Bit eager, aren’t you, Chris?” James Potter winked. Oh god. I made an “ugh!” noise and walked off. When I looked behind me, he was swaggering. YICK. How embarrassing.

 

I walked into charms and had to endure a 5 minute long squeaky lecture off of Resdard about punctuality. He gave me an essay to write about why being on time is important. That should be fun to write. When I got seated, Laura gave me a ‘I feel sorry for you but it’s kinda your fault’ look and then turned back to staring at the board with a blank look on her face. Dear me. I don’t blame her though- DADA lessons are soooo boring. All we do is listen to the teacher, professor Resdard, lecturing us on defence. I’m so surprised people don’t fail his classes.

 

Yay! One more lesson to go in this awful, awful day. Oh and great, it’s care of magical creatures. My fourth least favourite lesson. First least favourite would be potions, second would be charms, and third would be DADA. I like charms lessons, just not the teacher. Ah well, at least Al is in that class. ‘Wrong again!’ I cursed myself. I don’t want to see Al today, and why don’t I want to see him? THAT CURSED LIST! I am so angry. Whoever published that list…well… they’re going to feel my wrath. Not in a sexual way. Not that that was a sexual remark or anything. But someone could say to that ‘I want to feel your wrath’ which would imply sexual-related stuff. GROSS.

I got to Care of Magical Creatures late, too, because I was walking in a morose way, with my head down, and didn’t realise when I turned the wrong corner to get out of the doors. I don’t know how I could have done that, because to get to the entrance hall from my DADA classroom, you essentially walk straight forward. Oh well. Hagird loves me. Or as I call him, Haggerz. I don’t know why he likes it so much.

 

Haggerz wasn’t outside his cabin yet, but Albus, Scorpius and few other people were. The aforementioned couple were rapping. Yes, rapping. They were saying about how they’re apparent ‘Ladies men’ and when they saw me, they both winked, too. Oh, joy. This lesson was going to be interesting.

 

The lesson didn’t actually turn out that bad. We studied unicorns, which was really really nice, and Scorpius and Albus were just normal to me. Well, Scorpius was a bit blushy but that’s cos he fancies Rose and he doesn’t want anyone to know. Maybe they’re having a secret relationship: juicy. It’s weird that Scorpius and Al are friends, because Al comes from a family that’s always been in Gryffindor but he’s in Slytherin, and for Scorpius it’s the other way round. They’re like BFFL though. I’m not really that close to Scorpius because in first year he accidentally-on-purpose tripped me over and I still haven’t forgiven him yet. We don’t not get on though. He’s aiiiite. But it’s embarrassing when I see him now because of the whole ‘list’ thing.

 

Before going back to the common room, I had a cup of tea with Haggerz because he invited me. And I couldn’t say no. And I needed someone to talk to who didn’t know about the list. It wasn’t really that embarrassing; I’m just embarrassed easily. We talked for about an hour, after which I was starving hungry, because I didn’t want to eat Haggerz’s rock cakes because the last time my tooth actually cracked. Wasn’t good.

 

I rushed to the great hall because I thought if I made it on time I could quickly catch the last 5 minutes of dinner before it went on to dessert. Yay! I just managed to grab a slice of Shepard’s pie before it all vanished, which I ate pretty darn fast. Then I had some jelly and ice-cream, yum. I was just glancing around me whilst chatting sparingly to Oliver (he had been a bit weird with me all day, and I don’t know why) when I peaked Zabini come in the hall. ‘Oh dear God, I hope he doesn’t talk to me’ and as though there was a little cherub above my head just waiting to grant my wish, Zabini walked right past me! At least one good thing happened today. Later on though, Twang told me that Zabini must have been angry that he wasn’t on my list.

 

“Well, what did he expect?!” I angrily enquired, a bit too loudly, as some first years hushed me. “I have been horrible to him every single day since fourth year!” I continued, with a hushed voice, but nonetheless indignant and the like, “Every time he hits on me or is a pervert, I hurt forward slash curse him! Gosh!” I finished, a little lamely.

 

“Yes, I know, Crisia, but you have to face the fact that one: Zabini thinks he’s the best thing since fanged Frisbees and that all the girls would absolutely die to have him pay any attention to them and two: the only reason he is paying that sort of attention to you is that you don’t like him in that way, he can’t get you, and he doesn’t like that!” I know he was trying to be consoling, but it didn’t fit.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, you think the only reason Zabini is paying attention to me in that way is because he can’t ‘get me’ like every other girl? It couldn’t be because I’m nice and friendly or for any other reasons? You don’t think any other boy would look at me apart from him just because I don’t like him? Is that what you’re saying?” My voice had risen steadily until it was very high pitched and loud. I could feel the homework-crazed first years’ glared on me, but I didn’t care. Oliver looked really bewildered. I would have felt sorry for him and/or noticed properly if I wasn’t feeling so crap at the moment.

 

“N-no, Chris! That’s not what I’m saying! I said the only reason he’s bothering you is because you’re not low enough to like him! You don’t go round drooling after him! And, lots of boys would like you like that! I mean, you’re a bit weird and you’re face isn’t the best, and you’re quite flat-chested, but-“

 

Oh, Oliver. You should NOT have gone that far. Seriously. He has pointed out perhaps all of my insecurities, and I know he was trying to be nice, but whoa. That does not help, darling. I stormed up to my dormitory, falling up the stairs halfway up, and sat on my bed, fuming.

 

About 2 seconds later, I heard this wailing siren and laughed bitterly. Oliver had tried to get up the stairs. Teehheee he was probably cursing now about a sore bum. He can’t feel my pain though. I hate Twang.

 


 


 

So that’s it! Review or else I’ll cry. Sorry it was so short, by the way. It’s really quite depressing that like NONE of you review, so I stole this formula off of one of my favourite authors (which is so true):

reviews=happiness
happiness=writing
writing=update


 

So review, you squares!!

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Dumbfounding Discoveries.
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I didn’t talk to Oliver for another week, by which time Laura was hammering me with all these pleas to forgive him, while I resolutely ignored them. She was getting quite annoyed by now.

“You are so stubborn Crisia! What the fuck is your problem? You know he didn’t mean it, and yet you still won’t apologise and make up! Why are you being so awkward? You know you’re wrong!” That really hit a nerve. I hate being wrong. And yes, I knew I was overreacting, but COME ON. ‘Flat-chested and weird face’? That’s really not nice. And tactless. And just, so… TWANGY.

 

Laura stormed off, and Faithby looked owlishly up from the book she was reading on flobberworms- fascinating. She was a good pally to me, she would never ever get involved in any arguments I had with anyone, she would never take sides, but she was always nice, so therefore, loyal.  “You know, Chris, you should really go and talk to him.” She said bluntly. I was so surprised. My best friend, turning against me!! Oh, overreacting again. I composed myself before saying, “Faithby, my dear friend, he was mean and tactless and he made me cry. He made me cry, Faithby.” She glared at me for using her much-hated nickname. Snigger, snigger.

 

“Look, I know but you are completely taking this out of context and overreacting. You are being ridiculous and childish, and yes,” she pressed on firmly, because I was about to cut her off, “I know he was tactless and didn’t need to say all those things, but he was just trying to help. He’s a nice boy.” She finished her little speech in a softish voice and a glazed look in her eyes, much the same as the one where Laura is babbling on about Fred. Gosh. What’s going on here, eh?

 

“Right, I know I obviously don’t have any friends anymore! Can’t even support me when I’m in the depth of depression!” and with that, I flounced off, leaving an utterly bewildered Faithby behind: she was only trying to help.

 

I felt a little guilty later. I had completely shut out my bestest friends, leaving them angry and hurt and really confused. Well, I had to have a little temper tantrum once in a while. I dragged myself out of my bed of misery with a sigh and descended down to the common room to put things right. I hated apologising. Yick.

 

To my annoyance, it was only six o clock when I looked at my watch, so when I got to the common room it was still full to the brim with people doing homework, and chattering, etcetera. I peeked round the corner and saw my three bestest pals huddled in a corner, whispering to each other frantically. I decided to cast a disillusionment charm to sneak up behind them and do things the weird way, to make me feel more comfortable or something, I don’t know.

 

When I reached them, I soon found out what they were talking about. “… Just so annoying, you know, it’s like every two months or so she has to go off and have a little strop, she’s just so immature.” I was shocked to hear Faith-Beatrice (no longer my Faithby) venomously whispering. ‘Well, really!’ I thought to myself, but decided to listen a little longer.

 

‘Yes, it’s absolutely ridiculous! She’s so spoiled, her grandfather absolutely dotes on her, she gets whatever she wants and then complains to us about how much she hates her family!”

SO UNTRUE!!!!!!!!!!!! My granddad gave me a tiara for my last birthday. Nope, not a nice one, one made of ear trumpet things and wings and a weird strap. That’s hardly doting, is it? They were blowing things way out of proportion. I didn’t think my ‘friends’ could be this bitchy.

 

“Yeah, and look at me, my mum’s always nagging on at my dad about how he could be more like Harry Potter! I mean, how random and uncalled for is that!? I have real problems; she’s just such a melodramatic drama queen! URGH!” Oliver agreed.

 

“You’re right Oliver. I don’t know how we put up with her. And she has the smallest tits since… a boy!” Sniggered Laura. My Laura. Kind, lovely Laura who always assured me that I was completely lovely and er.. nice. I knew she could be a bit mean, but not like that... Stupid whore.

 

I had had enough. They made it out as if I was a spoiled little brat, and I was actually nothing of the sort. They didn’t know how hard my life could be. Them, with their perfect families. Them, with both parents still intact and completely normal. I need some new friends.


 


 

I sat with Al in Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions the next day- all lessons Gryffindors shared with Slytherins. Twang, Laura and Faith-Beatrice kept trying to come and talk to me, but when they did I just narrowed my eyes and quoted them from the night before.

 

“Look, Crisia, we…” Laura began sheepishly, somehow apprehending what was coming.

“Smallest tits since a boy” I blankly droned at her, while my eyes told her to fuck off. She seemed to have got the message so went off to sit back with the traitors.

 

“C’mon Chrissy, lets’ have some fun” Al whispered to me. He’s such a nice boy. He would never let me down. Never ever ever never ever. We could do practically what we wanted in transfiguration, because Mcgonnagal wasn’t ‘all there’ anymore and let us practice our transfigurations noisily and with more fun. He pulled out some extendable ears from his bag, in order to get to something else deeper down, but I grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “I want to see if they’re feeling remorseful, then I might consider not having some revenge on them” He looked at me understandingly with his lovely green eyes (‘back to reality, Crisia’ I scolded myself) and gave me a pair. He went and set them up so that the string (now developed so it was invisible by George Weasley , my godfather’s brother or something) and once he was back to his seat, we listened intently;

 

“Do you think she found out about our talk last night?” Oliver said fearfully. I glanced at Al and he was smirking at me, and he mouthed the word ‘duh’. I smiled.

“Oh, gee, Oliver, do you think?” Laura asked sarcastically.

“I feel so bad” Faith-Beatrice whispered, and I was glad to hear the guilt in her shaky voice. I looked over to see her looking into her lap, pale. Al and I exchanged smug glances.

 

“How are we supposed to put it right? How are we supposed to explain ourselves? I feel like such a twat. Oh my god, so you think she found out?” Oliver added with renowned panic in his voice. I was a bit puzzled at this; There was more meddling to be done on my account?

 

Laura was the next to speak, “No, Oliver, I don’t think she found out about the little crush you have on her” Laura reassured him, albeit a little exasperated. My jaw dropped in disbelief.

 

 “Or else she would be really freaked out and probably be all weird like last time she found out someone liked her” Faith added wisely, and I could tell she was reminiscing about the last time I gave Reginald Turnipson boils all over his face so that he wouldn’t like me anymore. Didn’t really affect his bad looks, but I felt immensely guilty afterwards.

 

“Oh yeah…” Oliver and Laura said simultaneously, both in dreamy voices, and when I looked at them, looking into space. Ha. They missed my eccentricities.

 

“I’ve heard enough” I said in a really high pitched voice. Whoops. Didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Why do I always attract the wrong boys? Albus looked just as shocked and bewildered as me about this little discovery. When he came back from shoving the extendables back in his bag I grabbed his wrist and hissed, “not a word to anyone, OK? This will kill him.” Quite menacingly. Then I added, “I can’t believe it. I think I’m going to puke” Albus looked quite pleased about that and hugged me unexpectedly. What a nice boy.  “I always attract the wrong boys” I mumbled, feeling vulnerable and annoyed and angry. “if only I could have some nice boy, like someone from my potential list.” Whoooops. Sort of thought out loud there. Damn me! Al was on the list. The Potential Boyfriend List had by no means stopped cropping up in day-to-day conversations of mine, but it had slowly died down. But now there were fewer people to hex those who did bring it up and annoyed me.

 

Albus smirked. It was a pretty smirk. It sort of melted my heart. Whoops. I keep coming out with things that make no sense. I don’t like Al.  No. He’s like a brother. I see him every Christmas (save last year because Granddad Xeno practically locked me up in our house) and we’re close. But, no. I don’t fancy him. Do I?

 

“c’mon” Al said unexpectedly, as the bell rang overhead. Mcgonnagal reminded us on the 3 ft essay that had to be in for next Monday. Sigh. So much work, so little time…

 

We went together to lunch, talking not as much as usual, serenely. I could tell he was thinking a lot, just like me. What could possibly happen next in the wonderful tales of Crisia Lovegood? I asked myself. This year is crap.

 

 


 


 

SO sorry that chapter is short.

I’ve been working really hard on my other stories (CHECK THEM OOUT) and I’m really tied down with school work. Please review because it shatters my heart when you don’t. I’m telepathic, you see.

 

 

Thanks for reading :D



Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Wise words of wisdom from a flower
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Chapter 5


Sitting in a broom cupboard, whiling away the time. So, Oliver likes me. Creepy. I will never be able to look at him the same way. Oh GOD. Ehhhh. I suppose Alby will be my new MBFF (male best friend forever) and at this rate, my regular BFF too.. Sigh. Ponder. Ponder and sigh. I will have to do something about this.

I jumped up, and, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head from hitting it on a shelf, marched out of the broom cupboard determinedly. ‘I have to fix everything, I will fix everything.’ It was my mantra, my talisman carrying me through the halls of Hogwarts! Ok, so a little melodramatic and stupid, but I like to imagine sometimes. But yeah, I do have to fix things.

Right, on to the common room; that was my first stop towards perfection (or, at least as close as I can get to perfection in my mad life). Yep, there they were. My OBFFs (can’t you work that out? Old best friends forever). I marched up to them and they looked up at me with mingled expressions of confusion, hope and suspicion.

“I can forgive, but I am afraid I can’t forget. I want to be friends again because, let’s be honest, life is short and I love you and I hate arguments and I’m sick of having no friends. You were all meany to me but this has been so blown up out of proportion and it’s stupid. We’re 15 and 16 year olds for Christ’s sake!” I finished fiercely. I quite enjoyed my speech. They seemed to, as well
.
Faithby got up (renewed use of her nickname, eh? Eh?) and hugged me so tight I was afraid I would give birth. This was really pleasing and I beamed, even one friend out of the three I’d lost was good enough. Oliver got up and moved forwards to hug me, too, but I manoeuvred Faithby so that no one else could hug me. I don’t want physical contact with him for a while now. Laura took a while to think, rolled her eyes and got up too, grudgingly, to come and give me a hug.

“I love you, too, Crissy, but you need to change... A little. You think a bit too much of yourself and you really annoy me sometimes. Think you’re funny when a majority of the time it’s just stupid. I do love you but we need to be truthful in this new found friendship and I don’t want anymore lies between the four of us, got it?”

I was a bit stunned into silence but hugged her anyway while my brain worked and chewed over her words. I would write them down later for analysis!!

Right, next part of my plan: write a sugary sweet letter to Xeno and put some little hints in there that I’m really poor and deprived and need some money. Maybe he will listen this time. I’ll put in some things about how Ravenclaw is soooo much better than Gryffindor.. It’s sure to sway him.

Mmhm, written, owlery, go!! I was in a pretty darn good mood by this time, friendships reformed (putting Laura’s words to the back of my head for later, of course, or else I would never have stopped worrying. It’s a Chinese technique...)

Once I’d sent my letter off with the friendliest-looking owl, I skipped over to the stairs and came to an abrupt stop. Albus stood there, grinning at me. Grinning his cocky grin, all crookedy but nice. He’d been spying on me! Oh no, no no, I’d been singing Papa Roach to myself. Shit.

“Excuse me, please, Albus” I said with as much dignity as I could muster. He kept grinning at me, unmoving. Ohmygod, what if someone had put some sort of spell on him? Wait, no, jumping to conclusions again. He was blinking sometimes. Slightly. I rolled my eyes and tried to squeeze past him. He moved at the same time. UGH, how infuriating. He was ruining my good mood!!

“Albus, MOVE!!” I didn’t quite yell at him. He still grinned.
“No.” He said, still grinning. UGH! This was really pissing me off. I huffed and went to the other side of the not-quite-room. I stared out of the empty windows and seethed in silence, hoping he’d just move out of boredom. He annoyed me all the time. I had things to do, he wasn’t exactly helping! Oh, ugh, ugh, ugh, a 3 foot essay for McGonnagal. Not good.


I gasped and swore, pulling out my wand as I turned around only to see Albus, half-grinning but looking a bit scared.
“UGH, don’t creep up on me like that!” I scolded him. He’d grabbed the tops of my arms and whispered “Boo” in my ears. Hmm, this meant payback. Instead of moving, or talking, or just still grinning, Albus leaned down towards me and closed his eyes. I was so shocked, I could only go with it. Once I realised I was kissing Albus, (MY NEW MBFF!!!!) Albus, who I thought I had feelings for and stuff, and who I don’t know, who was really great and who I loved to death, I pulled away and looked at him with questions in my eyes. He obviously thought this was his cue to go, because he ran straight out of the room without saying a word. So confused.

I moped my way back to the common room and went to my dormitory. Sitting on my bed, thinking. More thinking. More and more thinking. Then, the person I probably wanted to see most in the whole of the world walked into the room (though I didn‘t know it yet), humming happily. She saw me moping on my bed and froze. We’d never really spoken much. But she was Rose, and so put on her caring face and came and sat next to me, conjuring a tissue because she was really clever and stuff. I then realised I was crying.

“Crisia, what’s wrong?” She asked in her motherly and caring voice.  I looked up at her, pouting slightly, thought for a half-second, and burst into tears. “What, Crisia? What is it?” She asked, obviously alarmed. “Everything!” I wailed, and flung myself into her arms.

I did tell her everything. Every little thing. Leaving out Albus’ name, because they were related etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I think she guessed who it was though. I found a new BFF! I really need to shut up with this BFF thing. Be quiet. I did feel a lot better once I’d gotten everything off my chest.

“Well, sounds to me like Laura is a bit of a bitch, your other friends are reliable, you need to talk to this boy, whoever he is,” she paused to wink at me.. What?!?!?!?, “and talk to Oliver Twang to make sure he knows you don’t want anything more than friendship. Oh, and try and make him not like you, be disgusting or something.” She ticked the things off on her fingers as she said them. I really like Rose, she’s genuine and nice, and I would have to make sure she didn’t talk to anyone about anything ever.

“Now Rose,” I started solemnly, “I have told you everything that I haven’t told anyone else before now so you must promise me that you’ll never tell anyone anything I’ve told you or repeat it or hint at anyone or even try to help with anything. This must be between us, ok? Pinkie Promise?” I offered her my littlest finger.

Rose snorted. “What are we, Americans? And we’re not four, either, Crisia.” Getting back to her usual self, I see. “But of course I won’t tell anyone anything you’ve said. This conversation has never happened” She mimicked zipping her mouth shut, and I was the immature one?

I hesitated as she walked away in her Rose way. “But.. Rose?” I called to her, “We will be friends though, won’t we? You’re good to talk to.” I admitted sheepishly. She smiled warmly at me and said, “I don’t really have many friends, but I do like you a lot, Crisia, and I’d like to count you as one of them” she was so genuine I couldn’t help but believe her. Looked like a friendship was beautifully blossoming. This was only the bud.

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