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Seven by loopyluna

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Format: Novella
Chapters: 13
Word Count: 59,030
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Humor, Romance, Young Adult
Characters: McGonagall, James (II), OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Other Pairing, James/OC, OC/OC

First Published: 09/19/2010
Last Chapter: 03/12/2011
Last Updated: 03/12/2011

Summary:
Banner by Marit @ tda // Freddy/Oc
Warning: Narrated by a narrow minded and cynical insomniac.†



Dixie doesn't care that Freddy has similar body mass to a bear, or the fact that her breath catches in her throat at the mere sight of him. She is going to detach him from his latest bird even if she has to use the scissors.†


Chapter 1: The Eloquent Charms of Fredrick Weasley
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Authors Note: Dearest Readers, this is the first Chapter of Seven, the story of the delightful Dixie Pruitt. To those of you who haven’t read Wolfsbane (the story before this) you don’t need to, there will be nothing that you need to know from that in this story. To those of you that have, I hope you enjoy it as much. Read on…









Beautiful Chapter Image by Marit @ tda. 
Dixie Pruitt








 


In complete honesty, I have absolutely no clue of the whereabouts of my pack of Exploding Snap cards. Despite what ever James Potter says, I did not leave them in the Common Room. It is a shame in all sincerity that it was that particular pack to be misplaced; they had the face of Quidditch Extraordinaire, Harrison Bartlett on each card. 





 

I bit back an incessant whine for once in my life and drummed my fingers repeatedly against the oak table infront of me. While I tend to grace the day with an outlook of optimism and niceties, today would be favored differently; with a pessimistic view and horns imaginarily scribbled on to the top of every Professors head. A reason for my negativity I hear you ask? I can answer it with six words.

 

I am not a morning person.



I never have been and I never will. It could have something to do with the fact that according to James I am dancing on the rim of becoming an insomniac. I personally disagree with this statement; with the right amount of care and love, that verdict is entirely incorrect and I will divulge myself in to the following day with a smile upon my face. Today did not happen to be one of those days. Today I will be narrow-minded and cynical.

 

There are two options to my unfulfilled evenings. The first one is exploration of the castle, being best friends with the present generation of Potters and Weasley’s does have its charms. James would lend me his invisibility cloak for me to wander the castle at unreasonable hours and Freddy wouldn’t allow me to go alone. Freddy. Dearest Freddy Weasley.

 

11 years old; while his cousin chatted to me about Honeydukes on the Hogwarts Express ride, Fred pulled my hair, shoved a sherbet lemon up my nose and attempted look up my skirt. This was all before pushed me in to the black lake and jumping in after me. Yet somehow, with his dark brown eyes and skin to match, he stumbled head first in to society, embracing life as it came and became the man he is today.

 

The man that after 7 double vodkas, can still dance the pulp fiction to perfection. The guy that attempt to impose Asbo’s on people who carry umbrellas of satellite proportions. The guy who after many severely traumatising breakups decided to go on a heartbreaker-award-winning-worthy one night stand mission. (He’s still on it)

 

The guy that after almost seven years has stuck by my side and been my rock, my shoulder to cry on, my teddy bear. After seven years he is still the fanatical, egotistical, conceited arse that he was at the age of eleven but I wouldn’t change him in the slightest. Not one bit. He may be an overconfident and supercilious big-kid, but he is still somehow chivalrous and charming. This is why he doesn’t let we roam the castle on my own at weird hours, he will always be with me.

 

Because of this grand benefit that I am graced with, the reality of me settling down to bed before one or two in the morning is sorely unrealistic. The consequence of this is my chosen time to wake up, according to my roommates, the answer is not before ten to eight. I believe this is a brilliant plan; I get ready abnormally quickly, and this till gives me time to socialize and scoff down toast and coffee before lessons at nine.

 

This morning however didn’t follow that drawn out plan when my blonde haired roommate decided to pull me from my bed (by my ankles may I add) and in to the bathroom at the unthinkable time of ten past seven.

















Last night I had submerged to my nocturnal habits and spent my night in the Common Room with the second option to my evenings; with my pack of cards and my dignity still intact. While I sat, legs crossed, graced with a high pile of Sugar Quills and Ice Mice infront of me, James parked his butt on to the sofa and gradually lost his smirk as his pile seemed to deplete. That was the reasoning that I used to reach my not-so-far-fetched conclusion to the whereabouts of my missing cards.

 

“Dixie,” James huffed as he took another bite of toast. “For the last time, I did not take your cards.”

 

I folded my arms over my chest in a childish manner. “You acted out of wounded macho-pride and, like the criminal that you are, stealthily snatched them from right under my nose.”

 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions now, love.” He said, moving my pointed finger from under his nose with the back of his hand.

 

“I did not jump to conclusions,” I argued as I nursed my coffee. “I took a small step and there conclusions were.” He simply looked in the other direction. “Don’t try to deny it, Jimmy-Jams. I know that you did it.”

 

“I’m not really sure to start with the corrections to that sentence,” he muttered as he threw an arm around his girlfriend. “So how about we go with, one, I didn’t fecking do it and two, call me Jimmy-Jams again and I will cut off all of your hair while you sleep.” I stifled an eye roll and rested my cheek in to my palm. James poked my pout and sat up casually.  

 

“James,” the tall blonde snapped. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

 

He shook his head in denial. “Yes, it is. But you love me, and therefore you will overlook this little mishap because if you don’t you will never receive a kiss from me again.”

 

“That’s fine,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “I will always have Drew.” The twitch that worked its way on to James’s features couldn’t be defined with words.

 

I twisted the small tea spoon in the black cup infront of me and send a small grin to my roommate. Charisma Price is naturally quiet and sweet, the giggliest of us all, generally a quiet and loving person but a closet-disco-diva. She was tucked neatly under James’s arm, her rightful place, where she had spent the past nine months. Her bright blue eyes were usually filled with happy little rainbow smiles, an aspect of her that I envied. Yet today they were different; dark circles underlined them along with a small scowl on her face. She wasn’t a nocturnal being like me, she happened to be suffering from ‘that time of the month’. She was unlucky; she had two of them. She was part werewolf. It was shocking to think that the bouncy blonde who cried when she grew out of her favorite t-shirt has the ability to hurt people in the way that she did. In out third year, she broke Freddy’s arm. He complained like a tiny little girl.

 

I turned to my left and wrote another sentence on to my Astronomy Homework. James looked at it longingly. The day that he did his AST homework is the day that I give up Ice Mice.

 

At this moment a groaning presence slumped in beside me. Andrew ‘Drew or Drew-ie’ Wood, had manoeuvred his way past a pack of uptight Ravenclaws and us with his bear like presence.

 

“Morning,” he said cheerfully, taking a piece of toast.

 

He reached for some strawberry jam and I prodded him with my quill. “Charisma is planning on kissing you.”

 

“Really,” he questioned. I nodded and she blushed. “And how does James feel about this?”

 

His glare answered the question.

 

“I’m going to guess, not too good.” I replied with a shrug.

 

I took a sip of my coffee, putting my quill back down on to the table, and handed my cup to a begging Drew. He took his own monster gulp. I opened my mouth and stuttered in protest. “Drew-ie, that wasn’t a sip.”

 

“And?”

 

“You usually just take a sip.” I reasoned in a pleasant tone. “That should be classed as a … you know; I don’t even think that it has a name.”

 

He looked at me pointedly and raised a dark brow. “Sorry, love. Let me just regurgitate it for you.”

 

I snatched my cup away before he could do anything of the sort and leant my cheek in to the palm of my hand. He stopped the incessant gagging noise that he was making.

 

Drew Wood; currently attacking his breakfast with his face, it astounds me that a boy with looks that good can eat in such a foul manner. He is our personal Minister for Magic. He is the sensible one, despite the eating habits. His sharp-mind is able to decipher what rules are worth breaking and what ones will land us in detention for life. The prerogative if we actually follow his advice is usually another story.

 

He leant over my toast and reached for my cup. Warningly I grabbed my quill in a clenched fist and held it up to his arm. He leaned away warily. “You’re not going to stab me, Dix.”

 

“Oh, yes she will.” Charisma interjected sternly. “She stabbed James last week.”

 

I smiled sweetly. “I feel no remorse.”

 

“I do.” James whined. “It bloody hurt.”

 

I nodded and put my quill back down. Drew leant back over. “Andrew,” Charisma said in a testy tone. “She really will leave little stab marks in a place that she chooses, I recommend that you back off. You’ve seen her do it before.”

 

He replaced my quill with a spoon and leant back, placing my stationary on to the Hufflepuff table. My fingers twitched towards the knife and fork. “Touch that cutlery and I will run away with the coffee.”

 

I was about to utter my reply with several words of choice about my opinion on his threat – and him. Instead, I was left to deeply sighed and count to ten in my head. When I reached seven I found calm I examining my red nails, each one was perfectly painted. It was strange to think that I take such care in my appearance only to enjoy digging around in the mud in Herbology. Charisma thinks that I am an enigma, that there was a flaw in my programming. I however, consider it charm.

 

I took another sip of my coffee and tried to ignore Charisma’s disheveled and sleepy looking appearance. I woke up feeling cynical and argumentative, but I couldn’t have got up feeling worse than that.

 

“My jam tastes of strawberries,” Drew moaned from beside me.

 

“And what is wrong with strawberries?” I asked, folding my arms as James caught my eye.

 

“You liked them last week,” Charisma tried, sending a small smile towards her friend.

 

He shook his head. “Not this week, this week I like raspberries.”

 

“You difficult, difficult boy.” I muttered. “I’ll show you where you can stick those raspberries.”

 

He raised a brow and smiled. “Please enlighten me, love. Are we dealing with a detracting and sarcastic Dixie Pruitt this morning or cheerful and buoyant Dixie-the-Pixie.”

 

“Buoyant?” I echoed. “Did you wake up in a dictionary?”

 

“I’m going to go with detracting and sarcastic.”

 

“You can’t forget mocking,” Charisma chimed. “She very good at that.”

 

“She’s also very manipulative for such a small person,” James beamed. “I mean, how you can fit that much gloomy demeanor in such a tiny body is beside me.”

 

“I’m five foot four,” I snapped.

 

“Yes, tiny.”

 

I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to retaliate. I had my insults all lined up, my wit on the front line. That was until Drew reached in to my mouth and pinched my tongue.

 

“Think before you speak, Dixie.” he lectured as I tried to clamp my teeth down on to his fingers. “Your words can sometimes be a little more hurtful than I am sure you intend them to be.”

 

“D-Drew, mate,” James stammered. “Her nostrils are flaring.”

 

I am sure that my cheeks had adapted to the colour of my Gryffindor robes. I tired heartlessly to gnaw on Drew’s thumb and index finger. James was one of my only friends who was able to decipher morning crankiness from subtlety-burning anger. Drew nodded heavily and mouthed counting to ten. I felt compelled to let him know my opinion on his actions. This was displayed by a spoon shaped crease stabbed in to his arm. The wanker didn’t even acknowledge it.

 

James leant over the table and caught the spoon on my third attempt and tried to pull it from my grasp. As a deplorable outbreak of tug of war commenced, Charisma continued to eat her breakfast and read a copy of the Daily Prophet. I would never be caught dead with a copy of that rubbish. It printed two year that my twin brothers Kellan and Archie were arrested for holding illegal Gnome fight-tournaments. Theresa Skeeter stated that they were twenty four years of age, had over seventeen gnomes locked in separate rooms and were treating them horrendously.

 

It’s untrue; they were Imps not Gnomes.

 

Since that shameful moment, I refuse to read the utter rubbish that the trollop prints and passes as formal intelligence and news.

 

I felt my arm weaken as the James adapted to his role as Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and used his Chaser muscle to yank the spoon from my grip. He muttered obscenities, was smacked in the stomach by his girlfriend and eventually taken the spoon from my grasp that had turned limp within seconds.

 

James took one look behind him and gaped, I could feel Charisma’s eyes surveying me. Drew on the other hand laughed, so did a few people around him. He let go of my tongue. I found my chest deflating instead of my eyes narrowing. My breathing became shallow instead of raging. I lost all sense of normality.

 

Admitting with integrity, there is one weakness that I have and it is standing behind James with that bloody smirk plastered across his face. I am not afraid of spiders, nor do heights make me shake. However there is one thing, or person, I should say, that obtains the overwhelming ability to make me shake in my boots and melt in to a puddle of girly mush.

 

He is the one person who I wake up for in the morning (if you can even call it as that) he is the only one in the world who has the ability to put a smile on to my face just with one of his own. He can turn my pessimistic nature in to a cheerful exploit to over take the world. He can take my potty mouthed disposition and turn my words in to poetry. My steely eyed glower is flipped and entices children instead of making them cry. He can turn my frown in to a smile.

 

I peered over James’s shoulder and saw him. He was taking to a pretty little blonde, a sixth year. He was in his seventh. It would have been an adequate description to say that they were more than friends. She laughed and pushed on his shoulder playfully. He laughed along with her. As they took another few steps towards the Gryffindor table I felt my heart drop down to my stomach. I bit back any emotion that I had on the subject, bit down my lip inconspicuously, hard, and took a piece of toast from infront of me.

 

I felt a hand comfortingly rest on my knee under the table; it brushed the bottom of my black school dress. I mustered my emotion and threw it all in to one last frown. I didn’t want the smirking stares from onlookers, or worse, pity. That was what I am receiving. I don’t need it, I don’t want it.

 

I looked back over to the ‘happy couple’ and saw his smirk; he had just said something cheeky. He smiled it at me only hours ago. To her, he has probably told her she’s pretty, the only one for him. To me, he told me to grow up, stole my bra and pushed me over the back of the sofa.

 

Oh, the eloquent charms of Freddy Weasley.

 

It was at this moment that I felt my lip quiver, at this moment that Drew’s arm found its way around my shoulders, at this moment that Freddy leant over and kissed my cousin.

 

On the lips.

 

As I bit back a whimper of pain my heart thudded out my chest, leaving a gaping hole where it once was. Drew quickly leant back to the Hufflepuff table and snatched back my quill. He placed it directly in to my hand and curled my fingers back around it. He must be mistaken if he thinks I am stabbing him with that, he is a good friend. He gave me back my weapon.

 

Instead with a little internal sob, I leaned to my left and jabbed it in to the leg of the next passing person, who, by pure coincidence, just happened to be Professor Flint.

 









 


Authors Note: A bit on the short side, I know. But I promise you they will get longer. This was just a little insight to Dixie. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Oh and yes, Professor Flint is infact the gorgeous Marcus :P

 

Note that the term ‘gorgeous’ is used loosely.

 

What do you think will happen next?

How will Dixie deal with this?

Why did Drew give back her weapon?

 

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, it may take a while to warm up, but I quite like the story line to this, so I hope that you do to. I realize that Dixie’s cynical outlook is incredibly over the top to how many of you would envision life, I imagine. But then that is just the Dixie way and trust me, it will calm down a little. I usually leave a preview of the next chapter so, here it is…

 

Don’t forget to leave a little review; it doesn’t even have to be long. It can say ‘cake’ if you enjoyed it and ‘trifle’ if you didn’t.  

 


Chapter 2: Miss Goody Goody Two Shoes, I Promise Never to Get in to Trouble Again
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Beautiful Chapter Image by Marit @ tda. 
Freddy Weasley


 




 

 

 

 Professor McGonagall sat back in her chair and looked at me in what I gathered was a firm approach. “Dixie, I don’t know what possessed you to attack a Professor in such a violent manner-“

 

“Not attack,” I interjected. I decided to ignore the fact she had thought that I was possessed and focus on one thing at a time. “If it helps my case at all, I meant to hit a fellow student and not a teacher.”

 

McGonagall’s eyes widened hysterically. “Miss Pruitt, that doesn’t help you at all infact, it makes it worse.”

 

“How much worse?”

 

She swallowed and leant forward on to her desk, I looked away a little hoping to Merlin that she wasn’t trying to show me her cleavage and looked out of the large windows that stood instead of a wall, thin black lines made smaller squares of the glass. “A lot worse.”

 

“So like, a week’s more detention?”

 

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “Try a month.”

 

“A month!”

 

“A month,” she echoed. “And a letter to your Guardian.” My lips twitched in to a small smile. My brother, Josiah, would react to this situation differently than other guardians. He’d probably just laugh. “Miss Pruitt, do you care to explain what exactly is so funny about this situation?”

 

I chewed on the inside of my gums, a terrible habit that I need to quit. I looked up to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard of all time. It looked like he was…smirking. “Nada,” I bit my lip. “But, to be honest,” I tried. “Do you really care for Flint? I mean he was a Slytherin…and a Death Eater.” Her features took on a desperate gape. “Isn’t about time that he got stabbed?”

 

She looked desolate. “No.” She whinnied. “It may shock you, but here at Hogwarts we don’t condone violence in any shape or form, whether you use your fists, or in your case, an item of stationary.”

 

“I thought that it was pretty imaginative.”

 

My decision to go at it from a different direction wasn’t having the desirable affect. McGonagall made a small throaty sound before beginning a speech. “Never before in my rein as Headmistress have I seen a student act so carelessl-“ I shifted in my chair a few times, it happened to be unreasonably hard for a wooden chair. I will have bruises on my butt cheeks. To prevent this said disaster, I shifted in my chair and grabbed the seat so I didn’t shift off. I bent down to look underneath. “Pruitt!” She screeched. “Are you even listening to me?”

 

My eye twitched a little and I shot back up to sit straight. “Yeah,” she raised a perceptive brow, I did the same.

 

“What did I just say?”

 

I refrained from repeating what she did actually just say and blinked sparingly. “That I am a very bad person.”

 

“That wasn’t my exact words,” she twisted her thumbs, “But I’m glad that you managed to reach that conclusion on your own.” I bit back a confused expression and raised my eyebrows with acceptance instead. “May I just ask do you even feel the slightest bit sorry?” she shook her head with disapproval.

 

I took a thoughtful breath. “Now, I know what you want to hear-“

 

“Just answer the question.”

 

I shook my head. “No, not really.”

 

“A months worth of detention and a letter home will hopefully change that.” She tried. I nodded in an apologetic manner and she pulled a strip of parchment from underneath a pile of papers. I refrained from asked if they were death warrants. “I will also expect you to apologize to Professor Flint.”

 

“Really?” I whinnied before noticing her glare. The ‘really’ quickly turned in to an ‘ok’ and then to an ‘of course’. “I’ll do it now.”

 

She sighed. “I believe that you have Arithmacy with him this period.” I nodded. “Well, run along. I don’t want to see you in my office for the rest of this year do you understand me?”

 

“Yes, Professor.” I gave her a brownie guide promise. “I promise on the fate of the brownies.”

 

She hid a smile. “I suddenly feel remorse for the poor creatures.”

 

My brows furrowed in confusion. I think the Headmistress just called me dangerous. I shook off the disturbance and skipped out the door. My intention of going to class was at a high, that was until I ran headfirst in to a very amused looking Freddy.

 

He stood a head height taller than me and had a similar body mass to an upright bear. His mother, Angelina, assured me that her father was of a similar build and left it at that. He didn’t look anything like this father – but he had the wit. George Weasley was tall and earless. While he made constant jokes about him ‘hearing a draft’, the rest of us spent our childhood trying to poke the aged hole in his head.

 

Freddy shook his head, looking thoroughly entertained by my situation. While I stood in a black school dress over a thin white oxford shirt and he wore a sweater vest over the top of his. The rest of the school tucked in their shirts, Freddy did anything but.

 

He pulled down his beanie hat, making sure it didn’t slip off his head before folding his arms over his chest. Since third year, Drew has worn a grey beanie; he has only been known to take it off once, when he leant it to Charisma last year, until the moment, I hadn’t realised that he was a little blonde. In our fifth year, Freddy decided he liked the idea too, he purchased a similar hat – they have since been hat-twins.

 

Charisma and James have something that they like to refer to as ‘The Sixth Year Theory’, it’s the idea that the people in the Potter family get together with the people that they love in their sixth year. For most it has been true. I’m in my seventh year.

 

I flicked my hair and clicked my tongue, looking him in the eye. “Hi Freddy.”

 

“I hear that you attacked a teacher?” he said. “Good one.”

 

I blinked. “Are you taking the piss?”

 

“A little,” I opened my mouth to respond but he beat me to it. “Dix, take it as a joke, love.” I swallowed my pride and shrunk my shoulders. “Dare I ask why Flint is limping?”

 

I pouted a little and Fred laughed. I have foolishly landed myself in to many similar situations like this, with Freddy being the reason for my naivety; I have therefore had many theories and excuses on the ‘real reason’ why I have acted unwisely. They usually always involve my blaming Drew.

 

I fell in to his step as he threw his arm around my shoulders and sighed. “Drew wound me up.”

 

He shook his head. “When will he learn not to mess with my girl?” Freddy asked, mainly to himself. “And you’re not off the hook, Dixie-Pix; you can’t stab people with stationary, willy nilly.” I pretended to intake his comment. “You see, people have bad feelings and when you hurt them, they tend not to like you.”

 

“Well it’s a good thing that I have you then, isn’t it?” I said, applying my long fingers to his tie and yanking on it.

 

He smacked my hand away with an eye roll. “Who says that I like you?”

 

“James,” I said. It sounded more like a question.

 

He nodded with an articulate sigh. “That boy really needs to keep his mouth shut.” I laughed unexpectedly and stifled a gasp. “What will you do if I leave you?”

 

“I’ll be all alone and buy many cats.”

 

“Then I guess that I can never leave you,” he commented perceptively. I ignored the little flip that my heart seemed to take as he spoke. His voice was so deep it shook my thin frame. “But there’s nothing wrong with being a cat lady.”

 

“I never said that there was.” I rounded on him. “Infact, I was rather looking forward to obtaining many cats.”

 

He looked at me sternly. “You can’t have that.” He pushed me in to the shadows of the corridor. “I can’t have you preferring a helpless cat to me.”

 

“I am suddenly feeling an undying love for all things feline.”

 

He snorted irritably. “I’ll be sure to pick you up some cat-nip, love.” I smiled like a child and he prodded my nose with his finger. “It could be worse, you could like dogs.”

 

Freddy was afraid of dogs. He found them unbearably grating.

 

James mentioned to me back in forth year that at the age of seven, Freddy was chased up a tree by a Jack Russell. Since that moment, his tolerance of Alsatians shot so low it could rival his tolerance of relationships. My stomach sank a little at the thought.

 

I batted my eyelashes and looked to my shoes. “Freddy, speaking of dogs and all things bitchy…how is my cousin?”

 

“Your cousin?” His head dipped as he echoed.

 

“My cousin,” I repeated. “Abby, you were with her this morning.”

 

He scratched his head for a moment before laughing. “Oh yeah, Abby, she was nice. It’s not going to work out.”

 

“Does it ever?” I continued and he looked at me firmly. “I’m just saying.”

 

I recognised his familiar chuckle. “Only with you Dixie-Pixie.”

 

“I’m not pixie!” I exclaimed, stamping my foot and stopping our stroll. I decided to ignore his mention of the fateful night last Christmas and focus on this instead. The one thing that could ruffle my feathers more than anything else; call me a pixie. “Just because it rhymes with my name, doesn’t mean that I am a … fluttery, happy little bubbly fairy wannabe!”

 

He bit back a laugh. “Oh but my love, you have the dainty nose,” he assisted this with a little poke to it. “The pretty lips,” another poke, “The big eyes,” luckily this one wasn’t aided with a jab, instead a gesture. “Plus you’re tiny.”

 

“Five foot four.” I hissed.

 

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Tiny.”

 

“I’m not small,” I snapped. “You’re like; six foot…you’re the giant! Go talk to Hagrid.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got this wit thing down Dix.”

 

 






 

“Remind me why I took Arithmacy?” I complained as James took the quill from my hands. “Oh very funny.”

 

“Just a precaution,” he said, opening his textbook and placing my quill on to the table infront of me. “Flint’s walking past.”

 

I blew out a sigh and pathetically threw my hands down on to the table infront of me. Apologizing to Professor Flint hadn’t been as easy as I had assumed. Being the insignificant oaf that he is, I said my apology and waited for him to take it. I admit, it could have been a little more heart felled, but when someone is glaring at you with a gaping gap between his two front teeth, it’s a little hard to concentrate on anything but this glaring flaw.

 

He had accepted it begrudgingly but the expression that consumed his features told me that I was anything but forgiven. I can predict a heck of a lot of glaring and punishment in my future.

 

Freddy had walked me to my lesson before walking off to his. We stopped at the door and he jabbed me in the stomach before running away. I avow, if I hadn’t personally witnessed him growing up, I would immediately jump to the age of five for his mental capabilities. Freddy had counter acted my irritable snarls and smacked a smile back on to my face. I had ambled in to class, muttered an apology and slid in to my seat next to James in the back row.

 

I picked up my book and turned it upside down in a vein attempt to make sense of the equation. “This makes my intellect look shameful.”

 

“What intellect?”

 

I ignored him and tore a corner off of my parchment, folding it in to a white dove I pulled out my wand and gave it the ability to fly. I shut my book and blew the dove from my hands. “Fly my pretty,” I murmured. “Fly.”

 

“Where is it going to go?” James questioned. “All of the windows are shut!”

 

“It can fly down Flint’s throat and kill him,” I sneered.

 

“Now, Dixie, I wouldn’t wish that one anybody, even a piece of paper.” James murmured. “Go and open a window.”

 

I took a deep breath and quickly looked up to our Professor surreptitiously and calculated the chances of being caught. They were in my favor; he was absorbed under a tower of papers. He appeared to be having a merciless time attending to homework with his quill, drowning his chosen paper in green ink.

 

I slid out from my chair and ran to the window; hurdling over a small stack of books I caught my balance by landing my palms on to the wall. James snorted loud enough for me to overhear through the quiet chatter of our class. I looked up from the wall and noticed Drew’s confused face. He was staring directly at me.

 

I took two steps sideways and pulled up the chain on the window. Pushing the glass forward I stood on my tiptoes and leant out of the window, pushing it further. I leant back in but was caught by the silence. My upper body stood stock still as I turned around. Professor Flint, who had apparently resurfaced from teacher-land, was stood up, his wand out and my dove had fallen to the floor, burning.

 

“You just killed an innocent-“

 

“Piece of paper.” He finished, sneering. “Pruitt, not only have you stabbed me today, you are also managing to get on to my last nerve.” I felt a present need to congratulate him on making me sound like a psychopath, but I bit it back. Freddy was right, I do need to work on what I say. “Sit down.”

 

I walked back over to my desk and sat down, only vaguely aware of James’s amused smile. “I was only trying to get some air.”

 

“Air?” He echoed. “Isn’t there enough of it in this classroom? I’m sure that you’re not going to run out to the point that you specifically will suffocate alone.”

 

“Is that even possible?” I asked.

 

James shrugged. “Not sure. Probably not.”

 

“Who asked you to get involve Mr Potter?” Flint questioned. James shut his text book and leant forward over the desk lazily. Proff F had a strange appreciation for James, probably because he did well in lessons and I did not. “Detention tonight Miss Pruitt. My office at seven.”

 

“Oh but I can’t,” I explained, using dramatic hand movements to accompany my explanation. “For you see, I already have detention every night at seven for the next months for stabbing you with my quill.”

 

Professor Flint strolled over to our table, stepping over the flaming paper bird and shutting my textbook. “Correction Pruitt, you now have detention every night for a month and one day.”

 

I shrugged. “Okay.”

 

Flint looked despairing. “Are you proud of your self?” I pouted a little in thought. “It’s November the third and you’ve already bagged yourself over a months straight detentions.”

 

“Is it bad to say, ‘a little’?” His eyes widened at my comment. “You see, James did it last year, but it took him until February to do it.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to accomplish it, Dix.” James exclaimed. “I didn’t expect it to be a competition.”

 

I blinked. “Yes, but it was quite an achievement.”

 

“And of course you have to match it?”

 

I smiled. “Quite obviously, I couldn’t just let you have all the glory…again. Now could I?”

 

“Of course not.” He deadpanned. “Because I set the bar so high for you all.”

 

I sighed and crossed my arms, shrinking down in to my chair. Flint began to shout, I am sure that everything from his marital problems to his obsessive compulsive disorders were mentioned in this hopeless rant of his. By the time he was finished my nose was almost level with the table infront of me.

 

The faint smell of polished wood lingered around me; it was followed by the scent of parchment and the dust particles from the windows. I daren’t cough and interrupt his speech; I was afraid his eyes would pierce through me and corrupt my soul. November sunlight streamed in through the old windows.

 

I realized, with sincerity and complete reluctantly, that I have no reason to act the way that I do. It’s my blatant disregard for the rules that make me who I am. I would never intentionally hurt another. I still want good marks, I still want a good life – but there are something’s that I want more, and if my want for them results in my being punished for stabbing another being then so be it.

 

I also knew that sooner or later, I will have to grow up. I couldn’t be a Lost Boy, I couldn’t go to Neverland. But at this precise moment, I attend Hogwarts. I have no obligations, nor any particular reason for me to behave. I live at the most magical place in the world! Stuff Disneyland.

 

Flint finished his rant and looked me in the eye eagerly. It was a little disconcerting, to be started at by a Professor in that manner. I swallowed and he brushed his hair from his eyes. “And you think that behaviour will be tolerated in my classroom then you are wrong. There will be a practice paper tomorrow, it will replicate what you final exam will consist of. If any of you in this room don’t achieve higher than sixty percent in it, you will be entered for the lower paper; the lower paper is for-“

 

“Losers!” James exclaimed. “Yeah, we know, you only remind us every three seconds! We’re all pathetic, bla bla bla.”

 

Flint’s eyes widened to the size of saucepans as he spluttered, “Potter! Detention, tonight, seven!” he turned swiftly on his heel, narrowly missed smacking another student with the back of his hand and marched back down the isle of his classroom and back to his desk.

 

I looked to James curiously ho seemed to be rather content with his detention. “Why did you say that?”

 

“Oh sorry, Miss Goody Goody Two Shoes, I promise never to get in to trouble again.”

 

I prodded him with my finger and grinned. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

 

“Fine.” He said, wiping the apologetic smirk off of his face and replacing it with his usual one. “I thought that I would join you for detention tonight. It can get pretty boring and I don’t want you to suffer on your own. I thought that you could use some company.”

 

I smiled gratefully, “James, that’s really sweet.”

 

“I know.” His modesty astounded me. “But don’t think that you’re getting more detentions than me this year,” I snorted; I knew that he had ulterior motives. “It’s on, Pruitt.”

 

 






 

“Remind me why I took Charms?” Charisma complained, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet on to my knees. It was odd that she echoed my earlier words.

 

“Because you’re smarticle?” I offered, turning my Astronomy text book upside down, attempting to make something of the constellation that our Professor had asked us to configure.

 

“Is that even a word?” she asked, tapping her quill repeatedly against the table, much to the annoyance of surrounding Ravenclaws. 

 

I shut my book. “I don’t know look it up.” I smiled. “I’ll go and get the dictionary.”

 

Charisma looked up from her text book. “You can’t be serious.” She asked astonished. “Smarticle, is not a real word. It is one of the many that has originated from Dixie’s mind.”

 

My brunette roommate, Elle, smiled. “Along with you’re the cooliest.”

 

“The Prince of Prickish-ness.” Charisma added.

 

“And dear lord her name is Daphne Greengrass not Daphne Fatass.” Elle and I looked up at Charisma and burst into quiet snorts of laughter, Ellie’s northen accent made all the difference to that sentence.  We hid our faces in to our chosen books and attempted to avoid the gaze of the crazed librarian.

 

Her name is Madame Pince or something. She has a lazy eye and I’m pretty sure that she also has a moustache. I tend to look in the other direction you see. Her library rules; no eating, no laughing and no smiling, I am sure that she would enforce no breathing if she could. Ellie heard her say to Filch once that she thought that we were going to damage the books with food. What on earth am I going to do, smear chocolate all over the front page of Hogwarts; a History? Merlin this woman is paranoid. I actually swear that her and Filch are shagging or something, seriously, you should see the looks in their eyes. It’s bloody creepy. I don’t want to know how the cat would be involved in the equation. Elle gave one final snort before sucking up her laughter and resurfacing from her book.

 

Ellie Jones was flawless. The fact that she’s the resident Miss England infinity has nothing to do with her actual personality. She is quiet, intelligent and fights only for anything but world peace. She flicked through the pages of my Arithmacy textbook and picked up my glasses.

 

“Quite a show you put on last lesson,” she commented, handing the black frames to me. “I’m sure that Flint actually wet himself at one point.”

 

Charisma’s shoulder deflated. “Dixie, you didn’t get yourself in to trouble again did you?”

 

I put my glasses on and pulled my hair over my shoulder. “Not really,” I shook my head. “It was more of the aftermath of this morning’s breakfast.”

 

Her moth formed an unsuspecting ‘O’ as she understood. “Well I hope that you didn’t cause too much trouble.”

 

“It’s me.” I chuckled.

 

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

 

Elle grinned slyly. “Well, it wouldn’t be Dixie without her unique point of view on life.”

 

“Cynical, more like.” I gasped melodramatically and threw a screwed up paper ball in my blonde roommates direction.

 

“Her unique point of view?” I Kyle repeated slowly, taking a seat next to Ellie. Kyle Sanford, tall, brooding and all push over. “Do you remember last year when she brought a Magic Eight Ball to Divination?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Charisma said. “It was real cool when you threw it out of the window, Kyle.”

 

He snorted and picked up a text book, flicking through it. “Well, I could have thrown it at you, but then your boyfriend might have beaten me up.”

 

Ellie punched his arm and shot him a glare of abhorrence. It was no secret that Charisma and Kyle have their differences, although it was also no secret that James doesn’t stand for a second of it. One step out of line on Kyle’s behalf and down the stairs he goes.

 

I blinked and pulled my textbooks in to a small pile. “Well, as fun as this is…I’m going to go.”

 

“Wait I have a question!” Ellie whisper shouted. The silence in the library was a little sinister. I sent her an eerie gesture and sat back down, setting my books in to my lap. “What’s happened between you and Freddy?”

 

Charisma looked up from her book; that was actually now a copy of Witch Weekly inside a text book. I’m sure that she knows. I know that she does. But I didn’t tell her. I think that Freddy’ might have. He does like to confide in the little blonde fairy.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously. “There’s nothing going on between me and Freddy.”

 

“Exactly,” Ellie hissed. “You two were so close last year, then after Christmas last year you just stopped talking.”

 

Kyle put his book down. “We thought that you two would be back to normal this year, after the summer break and everything, but you didn’t. I mean, don’t get us wrong, you guys are close, real close. But just not as close as you used to be.” He raised a brow. “We thought that you would be shagging by now.”

 

“Well, that had about as much tact as Flint doing the conga with an army of Hippogriffs.” Elle snapped irately.

 

He coolly shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just saying.”

 

I slid down in to my chair a little and caught my books as they went to slip off of my knees. “And it took you this long to ask me?”

 

“Well, we were afraid how you would react,” Ellie admitted. “Plus, if we asked Freddy, he would probably just slaughter us all. It was just this morning, Drew was talking about shagging a Hufflepuff, and Freddy got all annoyed when Kyle made a joke about the two of you being next. We thought we would tell you this in public so that you can’t shout.”

 

“There’s nothing different between us.” I denied, batting my eyelashes.

 

“One of you used to leave when the other entered a room.” Kyle acknowledged. I wanted to slap that smug smirk right off his face. “Not anymore, but last January it used to happen. There would be times when you were fine, but most of the time…”

 

“Nothings going on!” I cried out. An intolerable glower enveloped the librarian’s features and I tried desperately to look anywhere but her direction, Charisma seemed to be doing the same. Their no shouting plan had failed. “Look, Freddy and I had a little fall out over the Christmas holiday, that’s it. We’re not arguing anymore!”

 

Kyle’s lips twitched at the corners. “Yeah we know that you had a fall out; you did a duck and run army manoeuvre last March in the corridor to get away from him,” he smiled a little. “Sweetie, you were friends pretty quickly after that incident and we didn’t see you at all over the summer, all just thought that you two would be…well, you know.”

 

Charisma stared for a moment before laughing. “Leave the poor girl alone,” Ellie smiled too, her eyes found a silent gleam.

 

I just stared blankly. Freddy and I were two incredibly blunt people; I have been giving off obvious signals. Fred has been radiating nothing of the sort. He wouldn’t step foot in a library; he’s ‘allergic’ to the books.

 

In our third year, he was pushed over the doorway boundary pestering by James. He had a panic attack and had to be escorted to the Hospital Wing. It’s an unspeakable incident; the first one to talk about it receives a bludger up their arse.

 

“Freddy doesn’t like me anymore than a friend,” I pointed out, slamming my hands on to the table infront of me. “I will have to fall for someone else next time.”

 

“Why do you have to fall for someone?” Ellie asked presumptuously.

 

I opened my mouth and began to splutter in protest, “Because….because I want what you have.” I said desperately. “I want what you and James have, Charisma, he would do anything for you, and Kyle – would you, or would you not kiss Elle right now if she smiles at you.”

 

He did it to demonstrate my point.

 

Charisma looked a little taken back. “You can’t demand love, Dixie. It just comes.”

 

“You followed James around like a helpless puppy for a year,” I stated. “No pun intended.” She threw her hands up to surrender and sat back in her chair in defeat. “We’re not children, boys don’t run up to us while we are playing in the sandpit and tell us that we smell like poo, push us over, kick our delicate sandcastles and then run away. They just ask us out.”

 

“Well I like a little mystery,” Elle defended.

 

Kyle put his arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, some boys have a little dignity, Dix.” I threw a paper ball at him. By this time I had a little pile resting in my lap.

 

“Oh yeah, how did you and Elle get together?” I argued.

 

He blinked guiltily. “I asked her out.”

 

“I like the Sandcastle theory.” I stated, “It gives us girlies the opportunity to show the boys that we aren’t delicate.”

 

“Yeah especially you Dixie,” Charisma said tantalizingly.

 

Ellie leant back and put her feet up on the table jadedly. “If any boy pushed you over you’d get right back up and sucker punch him.”

 

I shrugged. “What else are you supposed to do?” Kyle smiled while Charisma and Ellie took it in turns to smack each other with books.

 

“Headed back to the subject of Freddy,” Kyle said quietly, attempting to lower our tones. “Why don’t you just talk to him? You’ve liked him for ages.” I shrugged and ran my finger along the hem of my dress sheepishly. “I’ll tell you what? I’ll have a word!”

 

“NO! Do anything of the sort and I will lop your ears off while you sleep!” I bellowed, standing up as a natural reaction. I knocked my chair back fortuitously and my books fell to the floor. They seemed to land one by one, each one getting a little louder. To say that we received a few stares would be a little ostentatious “Don’t talk to him. It’s just a silly school girl crush…I’ll get over it.”

 

Ellie leant over the table in a concerned fashion. “But, you said that to me last year.”

 






 


AN; So there it is, the second chapter. I hope that you all enjoyed it.

 

There is a little more development in to the characters in this chapter, also the introduction of two more, Kyle and Ellie.

I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. It was fun to write.

By popular demand, I have brought back the ‘preview’ in to my stories, where I shall show the readers, aka you, a clip of the next chapter.

 

He simply laughed. “No need to be vicious. Besides, I was about to pay you a compliment.”

 

My eyes widened in surprise. “I like compliments.”

 

“Don’t we all.” Drew huffed. “If Dixie-Pixie gets a compliment, then I want one too.” My shot gaze to Drew with resentment. My rueful fury burnt through his skin; he had referred to me as a Pixie.

 

James rolled his eyes. “Fine. Drew, you’re a babe.”

 

It should be out shortly. If you have a spare moment, drop by my MTA page and ask me some questions or check out my new one-shot, it is an Al/OC and is called ‘Ranny’. Thanks for reading. 



 


 


Chapter 3: A Mock Salute And A Handful Of Sherbet Lemons
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Beautiful Chapter Image by Marit @ tda. 
Andrew Wood







 “That was bloody brilliant.” Freddy whispered to me as we left Professor Longbottom’s office. “We have to do that again sometime.”

 

“How does Monday sound?” Drew asked with a smile.

 

“Rain Check?” I asked with a slight skip in my step. “You two have Quidditch Practice on Monday.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Drew exclaimed smacking his forehead. “Damn Potter and his bad timing.” He leered and sat down on an old wooden bench near the Great Hall. Pulling his hat from his head and turned it inside out, batting soil and other herbs from it.

 

Freddy and I stood; he shoved his hand in to the back pocket of my school trousers and pulled me closer. For once, I didn’t mind the dirt that Herbology graced us with; it brought Fred and me together. Longbottom, on the other hand, wasn’t as happy as me.

 

He had asked us all to plant a seed of our choice, whether it would grow in to a tree or a stem, it didn’t matter as long as it grew. I had chosen a marshmallow plant. Its attributes give it medicinal properties; soothing irritation, relieving coughing. It’s rumoured to fight infection too. It is also a nice and chewy snack. Professor L said that I missed the point of the project.

 

After that humiliating announcement I had turned to Freddy who was occupied drawing smiley faces in the top of his soil, he would cover it up and then do it again. I slipped on to the other half of his chair and joined him. He drew a line down the middle of his pot, turning it around; he gave me the bigger half to draw on. I bit back a small smile and dipped my fingers deep in to the soil.

 

Within the space of three minutes, Fred and I had strategically placed army lines drawn on to our face, two on each cheek. He then held me down contradictory to my protests; Drew then put a handful soil in my mouth before walking away with a stinging-soil handprint casing his right cheek.

 

By some means, these rebellious and careless actions of ours had deemed our lesson in to an entire-class-participation soil fight. When Longbottom had managed to regain control of our class, the Greenhouses were covered in compost from top to bottom. The ability to see through the once-spotless glass was jaded as clumps of soil slid mockingly down.

 

I was sure, that if it hadn’t been his lesson that we interrupted, Proff L would have found the entire situation somewhat humorous. He gave us the biddable task of cleaning the Greenhouses as punishment. Nonetheless, he didn’t take out wands off of us. With his help the Greenhouse was spotless once more and we spent the next half hour plating Exploding Snap – with Freddy’s cards; James (the miscreant) still had mine.

 

With a mock salute and a handful of sherbet lemons our punishment was served.

 

I fell in to Freddy’s side and he wiped his soil-y cheek in to my hair. I resisted the urge to squeal and settled for a yelp instead. “I can’t believe that you two forgot your Quidditch practise.”

 

“I can’t believe that you remembered!” Drew muttered, pulling his hat back on to his head. I reached out my hands and he took them, I pulled him up from the bench.

 

The three of us walked in step in towards the Great Hall, the cobbles of the floor beneath my feet dug through the soles of my shoes. Freddy’s hand was still in my pocket. I counted to ten and attempted keeping calm. I was failing.

 

“Let’s just not tell James, yeah?” Freddy said. His grin fell on to his face once again.

 

I nodded obediently. “Obviously; I wouldn’t want my two favourite boys to die.”

 

“We’re your favourite boys?” Drew cooed and pinched my cheek.

 

Freddy pulled me away. “But I’m her favourite boy, ever.” He sneered. I turned my face to hide my blush.

 

“I don’t doubt that,” Drew muttered. I was sure that Fred had not seen my glare. It was strong enough to burn a hole through iron. My brows furrowed and I am sure that my teeth grew sharp.

 

We took a left and entered through the big, heavy doors. Freddy lifted my feet off of the floor and carried me in side ways. “Put me down!” I protested, wishing that he would do anything but.

 

“Never!”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Freddy!” He held my stomach tighter. “Freddy’s you’re hurting me.” He didn’t loosen. “Fred!” I kicked my legs. “FRED!”

 

I turned my face to his. In the movies they catch eyes, fall in love and kiss. In my experience, that’s overrated. It doesn’t happen. The coherent charms of Freddy Weasley continue to shock me in ways that I can not describe.

 

His gaze wasn’t directed anywhere near me, it was infact facing the Hufflepuff table. A pretty blonde Puff was sat at the end, her skirt hitched up high and her shirt undone one two many. Her bra was the same colour as the bubblegum she was popping.

 

I prodded his cheek with my free arm and wiped the soil away. “Freddy.”

 

“Fred, mate.” Drew reasoned, “You’re hurting her.”

 

He snapped back to reality and placed me down on to the ground, I rubbed my tummy. “Sorry, love.” I waved it away airily. He grinned and winked at the Puff, she giggled. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

 

Suddenly the pain in my stomach didn’t seem so strong.

 

It was the one in my chest that stung me.

 

Drew’s strong hand found my shoulder and he pulled me to under his arm. “Come on, Dix.” He gestured to the Gryffindor table. “Let’s go and have dinner.” I smiled sadly and walked with him. “You know, when he does that to you, your eyes don’t seem so blue anymore.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

He grinned glumly. “When Freddy walks away from you, your eyes loose their happy, but slightly fanatical Dixie shine.” I reddened a little and he laughed. “I just want you to be happy.”

 

I slid in next to Ellie and smiled as Drew sat next to me. “I am.”

 

“Good to know.” Even I could tell he was lying. He didn’t believe me in the slightest.

 

I wondered why we hadn’t been greeted yet, I looked up. Our group was sat in silence; each eye was on us or more precisely, the soil.

 

“I love the look.” Ellie stated, passing me a piece of pie. It appeared we were in time for desert.

 

“Thank you,” I stated. “I call it soil.”

 

James leant over the table and poked my cheek. “Army lines?” I nodded. “They would be good for Quidditch.”

 

Charisma laughed while Ellie glared disapprovingly. “No.” She snapped. “No more bright Quidditch ideas; the last time that you had one, I was smacked in the face with a jack in the box.”

 

I looked up from my pie. “A jack in the box?”

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

Charisma blinked and put her fork back on to the table. “I was leaving Transfiguration when a third year runs in to me and tells me of ‘The Great Seventh Years’ who started a soil fight in the greenhouses.” I twitched at her censure. “Why would you even do it?” She questioned. “It’s our seventh year, surly you’re more mature than to start a soil fight.” Drew and I blinked. At the same time we stabbed our fork in to our pie and twisted it around. We looked up and laughed. “Never mind.”

 

“We were bored,” Drew scorned. “End of story.”

 

“No not end of story,” Kyle said. “It’s Friday.”

 

“And the weekend is near!” Drew chanted before high fiving his roommate.

 

“That’s not the point,” Charisma deadpanned. “Actually, that sentence has no point! You’re seventh years; you should be setting an example, not encouraging bad behaviour.”

 

I scowled and took another bite of pie, serenading the cherry flavouring as it danced on my taste buds. “Lighten up, Chris.”

 

“Yeah,” Drew added. “It’s not like you don’t love to stir up a bit of trouble.”

 

“Oh, I totally agree,” she admitted truthfully. “But I can just blame it all on James’s bad influence.” She added after a pause. Drew and I sniggered, much to James’s annoyance. It unnerved me slightly to say that he looked somewhat proud of his girlfriend. “Plus, I know when to stop.”

 

“Even I know there’s a boundary,” James said, pulling bits of mud from my hair. Ellie rolled her eyes as small scarps landed in the jelly. “Our, Dixie on the other hand…”

 

I listened to him trail off and glared. “Finnish that sentence.” I said. “I dare you.”

 

He winked and leaned over, stealing a piece of pie.

 

“I would love to ram that pie segment down your throat.” I cooed.

 

Charisma smirked. “Yes, because that doesn’t make you seem eligible for therapy.”

 

James pulled another mud section from my once-clean-locks and I batted his hands away. “Forget it,” I muttered. Pulling a hair tie from my wrist I threw my hair on to the top of my head in a bun.

 

“That’s another way to do it.” Drew approved.

 

The table fell in to an eased chat. I inwardly groaned as Drew took his third piece of pie, it also happened to be the last one. I half expected him to be the belaying gentleman and give it to me, instead, with a tongue stuck out in my direction and a smirk, he waffled it up quicker than I could blink.

 

Interestingly enough, nobody seemed disturbed in the slightest.

 

I saw James’s gaze fall on me, then to the Hufflepuff table. He knew how I felt; he had experienced it with Charisma. She is a beautiful, blonde bombshell who happens to be sickeningly compassionate. He wasn’t the only one with his eye on her.

 

He raised a brow to me, I looked behind. Freddy’s arm was around the back of the Hufflepuff. With a single shrug I turned back to my empty plate and began to grind streaks in to the china with my knife.

 

“Careful, love.” Drew warned. “The poor house elves already hate you. Don’t give them another bloody reason.”

 

James punched his Beater on the upper arm and fiercely glared. Drew blinked in surprise. “It’s alright,” I muttered. “It’s not like it’s the first time.”

 

This time it was a silence to fall over the table. Kyle passed me a bowl of jelly; the boy may be dark and mysterious, but he really knew how to make a girl feel better. “Dix, my offer still stands.”

 

“And so does my threat,” I said through gritted teeth.

 

James and Drew shared a perplexed glance before airily waving away their questions. People continued to eat, but I knew that none of their minds were really set on their food infront of them.

 

My face fades from the glare that it fronts, the famous ‘I’m going to attack you while you sleep’ glare. Kyle is dancing on the wall, a high wall; he is teasing which was to fall. If he tells Freddy of what he knows, he jumps left. But he knows that he can’t get back, he can’t see anybody on the other side of the wall. If he jumps right, he stays with me; he can see anybody of his choice and even choose to dance on the wall some more if he pleases. But one thing is for sure; if you dance on the wall for too long, you fall.

 

It’s the direction of his fall that concerns me.

 

I dig back in to my jelly; prodding it with my spoon and watching it wobble. I see Drew flinch out of the corner of my eye every time I move the item of cutlery. I suppress the uncomfortable feeling, the one of betrayal and hurt and try to ignore the lovely shade of crimson that will grace my cheeks if I think of Freddy; red is not an attractive shade on me.

 

For once I would adore for Freddy to drop his front, to loose the cocky, arrogant stance that he wears and to just be himself. I have known him for long enough to know that behind the wise cracks and the egotistical grin, there is a serious, riveting and somewhat vulnerable boy. But, I have also known him long enough to realize that if he drops that act, his vulnerability will get the better of him. He considers it a monster, one that will gobble him all up if it’s let loose for too long. By the age of twelve it was locked up and safely secured.

 

I wish that just for once, without my encouragement, the security of his friends and the influence of an alcohol of his choice, ‘Freddy’ will make an appearance. I’m not talking about the full frontal ‘Here’s Freddy’ Nightmare on elm Street façade. I just want to see my friend. I know that he’s in there, for every time I fall ill, he cares. For when Charisma fell from her broom, he rushed straight to her side with a look of spared concern. For whenever he wakes up in the morning next to a girl he can’t remember the name of, he feels empty.


An unlimited amount of females isn’t going fill that hole.

 

He just hasn’t realized it.

 

But he will.

 

My eyes slide over to James in contemplation. I love his half-smile quirks, the messy hair. He’s so free. He may have the raven hair and the Potter smirk, but Freddy has the crooked smile and the Weasley temper. It’s fortunate that they both have a flare for mischief, for without it, I wouldn’t talk to either of them.

 

James’s hair is an amazing testament. It is a mystery how the perfectly odd but accurately brilliant angles of messy wonderment can be so shaggy, but so right. It’s James’s individuality; it’s an admiral show of his cheeky personality that would suit him until death. It’s a wonder that he received Head Boy; we were all counting on Drew.













With a last look over my shoulder to his best mate, James helped himself to a spoon full of my jelly, I smiled pleasantly. “James do you have a death wish?”

 

He simply laughed. “No need to be vicious. Besides, I was about to pay you a compliment.”

 

My eyes widened in surprise. “I like compliments.”

 

“Don’t we all.” Drew huffed. “If Dixie-Pixie get’s a compliment, then I want one too.” My shot gaze to Drew with resentment. My rueful fury burnt through his skin; he had referred to me as a Pixie.

 

James rolled his eyes. “Fine. Drew, you’re a babe.” This didn’t lower my infuriate boiling point by any rate. If we were in a cartoon, steam would have been hissing from my ears. “Dixie, I was going to congratulate you on earlier. For you see, I heard that your lesson was legendary.”

 

I mocked a blush and smiled coyly. “Oh shucks, you don’t mean that.” I batted my eye lashes and the group laughed.

 

“It’s strange to think that something so innocent can be so manipulative.”

 

I bit Drew’s finger tip as he pointed it in to my face. He yelped and poked my head.

 

Charisma snorted from the blue. “Dixie, you’re such a minx.” I cocked a brow. “I think that Ewan Hudgens has a nice little surprise for later.”

 

The group looked confused before following her gaze over towards the Hufflepuff table. After gazing past Freddy’s red beanie hat, Ewan stood up from across the table and walked from the hall; a perfectly shaped soil handprint on his left butt cheek.

 

Ellie and I broke down in to peals of laughter, as did Drew and Kyle when they noticed. James simply snorted a little. Ewan Hudgens was nearing the top of the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry’s Attractive Males Scale. Each girl has their own list, but does it really shock you that they pretty much consist of the same people?

 

Ewan is nearing the top of mine.

 

“How can you prove it was me?” I tested.

 

She laughed. “Who else would it be? You’re the only one with enough courage to do something like that.”

 

The girls at the table turned to look at the ‘print’ once more.

 

“Oh, very mature.” James muttered, annoyed that he no longer had Charisma’s full attention.

 

I snorted. “Oh yeah, now you think I need to grow up.”

 











Professor Flint was furious, angrier that I had ever seen him. Thankfully, not all of this pent up rage was targeted towards me, only the majority. The other participant to his rage didn’t seem at all concerned.

 

“Pruitt.”

 

I dropped my scrubbing brush at the sound of my name. “Don’t talk to me,”

 

“Touchy are we?”

 

“A little,” I spat through gritted teeth. “Just do the detention Avery; I have absolutely no desire to be stuck in this room with you for longer than necessary.”

 

He just chuckled darkly. “And here I was getting my hopes up.”

 

“Shame that I had to dash them then isn’t it.”

 

He sneered and returned to scrubbing the floor. I had considered filling out a form for the inappropriate treatment of students, but then I considered Professor Flint’s possible list of antics for his retaliation. I quickly wiped that idea from my head.

 

“OH GOD! OH GOD!” Christopher Avery bawled, his tone a cross between shock and pure ecstasy. His Irish-accented and somewhat smutty voice failed miserably at sounding oppressive. The simple sound of his voice causes my frown to turn in to a dark feature. It becomes more powerful than a weapon.

 

“What are you doing?” I snapped.

 

He stopped shouting and went back to scrubbing. “Just practicing, for later.”

 

I snorted and tried to hide my utter shame; I am trapped in a detention room, scrubbing the floor, with a pervert behind me. I decided to go with the average response.

 

“You sicken me.”

 

He laughed. “No, I don’t.”

 

“Yes,” I sneered slowly. “You do.”

 

He gave a belated exhale and grinned. “Lovely, Dixie. How can I sicken you so, when you want me so badly?”

 

I choked on my own spit and snort incredulously. “Excuse me?”












He looked somewhat amused. "You want me; it’s obvious.” He dipped his scrubbing brush back in to the water of his bucket and began to scrub another tile. “It’s obvious.”  

 

“Oh, it’s obvious is it?” I said crossly. “Whoop-dy fricking obvious.”

 

“Yeah,” he said with a dark leer. “I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

 

“Would you care,” I simpered slowly. “To tell me who these ‘people’ are who agree with you?”

 

He grinned before shaking his head. “No, Dixie my darling. For you see, I realize that you will kill them.” My bit my tongue. “And there is no need for violence.”

 

I pulled my sleeves down over my lower arms, now the factor of them getting wet and in-the-way didn’t’ seem so important. I wanted to cover up as much of my skin as I could before he saw it.

 

He continued the conversation without looking up from the floor like he had done before. I stopped scrubbing and sat on my butt. It was no secret that Christopher Avery was tall, dark and mysterious. In all truth, he could be seen as the perverted (and more forward) version of the Freddy Weasley of the Slytherin house. Each one has their own. Obviously, Avery lacks the charm, wit and downright swagger that his Gryffindor rival possesses. Being brutally honest, I would look over Avery’s irritatingly arrogant smirk and not pass five minutes without having to fight the urge to dump his body somewhere far away.  

 

With his chiseled bone structure and dashingly good looks, he was a bloke that had it all. He made it incredibly hard not to take a few stares in a passing corridor; however this gave his abnormally huge ego and even bigger (and utterly unneeded) boost to the heavens. I mentally punished myself for being so superficial and shallow and began to scrub the floor harder. His Irish tones dug deep in to my skin.

 

I hadn’t been listening to his words, not from the beginning. I chose, rather maturely to ignore him and continue with my work. Considering that my usual response would have been to batter his head in with the scrubbing brush, I would give myself considerate props.

 

“-but of course, dear Freddy was looking awfully cozy with that Hufflepuff today.”

 

Forget it. Forget it all.

 








 

AN: So, there was the third chapter. I hope that you all enjoyed it. It was certainly fun to write. For those of you that read ‘Wolfsbane’, does anyone remember Christopher Avery? He was in the later chapters. If not, it’s still all good. He will be a main part in this story.

 

Don’t forget to review! I will take anything! What did you think of the soil fight? What about Avery or Drew? But alas, I will simply leave you now…with a preview:

 

Awww, well I think that Sir Cadogan will happily help you, after all, he is very generous.” I said smiling, a slow battering of my eyelashes “And ever so strong.”

 

“Do you have no shame?” Charisma snapped, a big grin tugging at her lips.

 

Who do you think Dixie was buttering up? I will give cookies to whoever gets it! :D


Chapter 4: Good Evening St Barnabas
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Christopher Avery


 





“He is so…off,” Elle complained as we walked towards the seventh floor. “I can’t explain it.”

 

“It’s Freddy, it doesn’t need explaining.” Charisma reasoned.

 

“He’s probably just having a bad day.”

 

Charisma smirked a little. “Come on Ellie, its Fred Weasley, he doesn’t have bad days.”

 

“He shouted at James during this morning’s Quidditch Practice,” Ellie stated. “And James is the Captain.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “In Freddy’s defense, James did book a double today. You have another practice at six.”

 

“Shit,” Elle muttered. “I’d forgotten about that.”

 

“I was planning an evening with me and a bar of chocolate,” Charisma said. “It was going to be a fun night.”

 

“Riveting.”

 

“No need for sarcasm, Dix,” I scowled at Elle. “Wait! Dixie! You must know what’s going on with Fred.”

 

I widened my blue eyes, “Just because I happen to be a little bit in love with him, doesn’t mean that I know what he is feeling at all times of the day.” She pulled a stray hair from her eyes. “For all I know, his ‘pick of the day’ could have turned him down.”

 

“Now come on, Dixie.” Charisma reasoned. “That’s a little harsh.” I raised a brow. “But kinda true.”

 

I walked up the stairs with a bounce in my step, bobbing my hair and causing my skirt to ride up a little. I smoothed my hands over the creases before running my fingers over my shirt collar. Charisma shoved a hand roughly in to her back pocket, three textbooks tucked under her arm.

 

Elle stopped at the top stair, causing us to halt too. I caught on to the wooden banister railing. This corridor was the thinnest in the school. It’s also the only way to the seventh floor without the use of house-elf Apperation. She turned and raises a brow. “Didn’t you accuse his sexuality at breakfast, Dix?”

 

“Yeah, but I do that everyday.” I readily admitted with a shrug.

 

Charisma edges me up the stairs before her keenly. “But you know how macho Freddy likes to feel, maybe it hurt him a little.”

 

“He had his hand up a sixth years skirt as I said it,” I incomprehensibly mumbled, brushing past her on the stairs. “I doubt that it even registered.”

 

“He must have heard it; it’s you who said it.”

 

Ellie nodded in neurotic agreement. “He always hears what you have you say.”

 

“Freddy, would rather listen to another girls screams of undying gratitude and pleasure than he would listen to me.”

 

“I’m sure that he wants to listen to your screams of undying gratitude and pleas-“ Ellie was cut off by Charisma’s swatting hand as it hit her square in the chest. “Hang on, you two haven’t…”

 

I took her trailing off as a point. “No.”

 

“That’s…kinda surprising.”

 

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Uhh, I just, kinda thought that-” She looked to Charisma desperately for assistance.

 

Chris clasped her hand over Ellie’s forearm protectively. “What, dear Elle means to say is that, we all think that you and Freddy would make a good couple. With Fred’s ‘reputation’ shall we say, we didn’t know what might or might not have happened between the two of you.”

 

I resisted the urge to storm past them, steam screeching from my ears in a cartoon-style rage. Instead, I clasped my Divination text book to my chest and twisted the small necklace that is clasped around my neck, a small blue and white aeroplane at the charm on the end. It’s no bigger that the end section of my thumb, hand painted.

 

Ellie stood at the end of the stairwell, reading my mind. She knew me all too well. She reached over and blocked my path of rampage. “Especially the way that you two have been flirting,” a first degree warning look was sent her way by the blonde. “I mean, insulting his sexuality,” second degree. “Come on.”

 

“Ok, point one; I did not accuse his sexuality so much as I told him that he has a sexual attraction to Christopher Avery, point two; it was a point for hilarity.”

 

Elle snorted. “Yeah, only you would tell your best friend that he fancies your boyfriend and find it funny.”

 

I smacked her lightly. Charisma failed stifle a laugh. “Aren’t you jealous that Avery might actually go for the bait?”

 

“What and feel up Fred for a change, yeah, I’ll be gutted.”

 

Ellie snorted and sent me a glare that read ‘That’s not what we meant, and you know it’. For a reaction I shrugged, pushing past Charisma and following a bouncy Ellie down the seventh floor corridor. We passed Sir Nick, a wave.

 

Charisma linked her arm through mine and we walked, her textbooks still under her arm. I will celebrate today, for today will be the beginning of a new era. Freddy has been distant today, as if something was plaguing his thoughts. I asked him of his troubles, and he brushed me aside. Today will be the beginning of my new emotional field. Today will be the day that I start to move on.

 

Boys like me; it’s not like I’m bad looking. Freddy, on the other hand, is a bear.

 

He is of a similar build, minus the fur. His brown eyes match that of a compassionate being. But Freddy is a Weasley, he inherited the temper. Not only the temper of his father, but his mothers, compassionate-yet-sarcastic streak. If you upset him once, Freddy will never forgive you. Also like a bear, he is very territorial. If Freddy owns something, you can’t even look at it.

 

Not one quick glance.

 

Ever.

 

But he also dishes out the hugs, the ones that envelop you the ones that bring you in to him. His arms, it was the only place that I felt truly safe, truly me. But he would never understand that. And for this reason, I have to think straight, and grow up.

 

I sucked up a sigh and pushed my fringe from my eyes. Elle was stood at the end of the corridor, five or so paces in front of us. I was a little puzzled by the bewildered but some what aggrieved look on her face. Her eyes covered that. Charisma was the first to follow her gaze. It lead to Barny.

 

St Barnabas the Barmy; he’s honestly a complete riot. In the early 17th centaury, he decided that it would be fun to train trolls for the ballet. It didn’t go too well in all honesty. Somebody made a tapestry, and we are mighty thrilled that they did. For without it, our Hogwarts life wouldn’t have been the same.

 

Consistently, upon approach, Barny is doing something completely different, whether it’s by his option or not. It’s still diverse every time. On this occasion, he happened to be trapped underneath to foot of a mighty troll.

 

“Good evening St Barnabas.” Charisma said. “Are you in need of assistance?”

 

“No, no, Miss Price.” He said with a struggle. “I’m perfectly fine.” His last syllable broke.

 

I giggled. “Barny, are you sure?” I asked. “Because I’m sure that Sir Cadogan will be more than willing to help.” I said, offering the services of the seventh floor knight. He is forever stuck in a painting without the use of his common sense.

 

He scoffed. “I do not need the help of that incompetent, counterproductive schmuck.”

 

Barnabas insists that he needs no help; it’s how it’s always been. He brushed he long brown hair from his eyes and sent me a chivalrous look. Barny is stubborn and cynical, Ellie likes to mention this frequently; she also likes to mention how we must have been separated at birth. I find this a little disturbing, not only due to age and dates of death, but also due to his extreme yet small infatuation with me.

 

His previous actions define the inappropriate nature of his crush. During our later Forth Year, Barny appeared in a painting hanging in our dorm room. He was looking a little disheveled. Little Red Riding Hood was suddenly joined by Barny, closely follwed by a troll. You could imagine what this meant for the wolf, he were turning up in almost every painting for many weeks and trying to blow down the sets. St B stayed in our room for hours chatting away to me like it was completely natural. I locked myself in the bathroom begrudgingly and Ellie had to fetch McGoogles to rid him from out room.

 

He is a chivalrous man, also very modest. He also happens to have a vendetta against Cadogan. Unfortunately the numerous amount of times that Sir C has saved him from certain tapestry death is rather demeaning.

 

Awww, well I think that Sir Cadogan will happily help you, after all, he is very generous.” I said smiling, a slow battering of my eyelashes “And ever so strong.”

 

I resumed flattering, completely oblivious to the fact that Charisma and Ellie weren’t paying attention to my babble and instead observing the trolls in tutu’s prancing around in the background. I had chosen to look at everything but, it was rather disturbing.

 

He looked up from the floor of the tapestry, where the troll was making him eat dirt, and did a pathetic excuse for a push up, making the trolls foot lift up so he could wiggle out. He stood up instantly and briefly posed to show off his guns as you will. I laughed.

 

“I need no help.” He stated slowly. “You know, you’re always welcome to visit me in my tapestry!” he announced. I blushed a little and hid my grin.

 

The three of us ran to the common room, rounding the corner and skidding to a halt. “Do you have no shame?” Charisma snapped, a big grin tugging at her lips.

 

“I merely gave him the encouragement he needed.”

 

“I’m sure he was hoping for a little something extra afterwards too.”

 

“Because that sentence wasn’t suggestive at all Ellie.” Charisma said as she muttered the password to the portrait.

 

“As long as he doesn’t turn up in our dorm room again.” I said with an eye roll as I slumped down in to the squishy red sofas.

 

 I relaxed in to the cushy pillow and rested my head against the back of the chair. To think that I was the one from our House to have the most devious mind was a little confusing. I was the one with the obsession over a snoopy shirt; I was the one with the red poka-dot wellies. I was the one with the sprinkling of freckles and the dainty nose. It was Ellie who had the mischievous smile, Charisma with the brains to pull of the pranks and hexes. It was them who had the men to prove it.

 

I smiled at little Polly Toon, the little blonde third year with the attitude of a Hufflepuff and the ability to swear like a muggle sailor. She was Gryffindor’s keeper, possibly the most deceiving look of appearance that this school has to offer. She grinned back, throwing what looked like a homework piece in to the bin. I knew there was a reason that I worshiped that girl.

 

“So you are coming to Quidditch tonight, right?”

 

I listened to Ellie’s words, but didn’t take them in. With an airy wave I muttered. “Detention.”

 

“Detention?” She echoed. “It’s always detention…when are you getting out?”

 

“Four more weeks or so,” I shrugged. “McGonagall wanted to extend my sentence for a week; apparently I am not as apologetic about the whole incident as she had hoped.”

 

“You stabbed your Arithmacy Professor in the leg.” Charisma affirmed. “You should feel some sort of remorse.” I shook my head in disagreement. “It’s astounding.”

 

“I know,” I agreed. “I didn’t think that he had the brain power to teach Arithmacy either.”

 

She took a deep breath before opening up her text book and reading over what appeared to be class notes. I looked down at my book, it stared at me hopefully after what was weeks of purposeful neglect. I shuddered and Ellie raised a brow.

 

“But can you come after?” She asked, brow still raised. “If you’re not dead, I mean.”

 

I nodded. “I am sure that I can manage that.” She smiled a little and hugged a pillow to he chest. “That is if Avery doesn’t kill me.”

 

“Avery?” She repeated. “I thought that you two were done serving together…I mean, he’s got that black eye now.”

 

I cocked a brow of my own. “Really?”

 

“That tone isn’t convincing,” she said. “I know that you gave it to him.”

 

“I did no such thing.”

 

I pulled my glasses from my pocket and put them on. I didn’t like them, they’re big and black framed. They make my eyes look unnecessarily big. Elle shook her head I disbelief. “He was fine before he went in to detention with you, then the next morning, tada…black eye!”

 

“He probably just got a little too rough with his chosen fan girl.”

 

“Dixie!”

 

I sighed. “Okay, fine. I promise you that he fell on to the scrubbing brush.”

 

“Your promises mean nothing to me.”

 

“He was making fun of Freddy,” I broke, admitting the truth.

 

She smiled triumphantly; I ignored her smirk with a contemptuous eye roll. “And then?”

 

I sent her a disparaging scowl. “Then…then he told me that he wanted to put his Basilisk in to my Chamber of Secrets.”

 

She snorted.

 

There is no other way that it can be described.

 

Snort.

 

Leaning over the arm of the sofa, she snorted, eye’s wider than believable.

 

“No wonder you attacked him,” she shouted.

 

“I didn’t attack him!” I rounded. “The brush simply found its way to meet his eye!”

 

She snorted again, laughing in to a pillow. Charisma hadn’t moved. I looked to her for help. “I have no words for that.”

 

“Thanks for your support.”

 

Ellie sat readily on the edge of her cushion. “Then what?”

 

“Then nothing.”

 

“Come on Dix,” she begged. “You don’t leave things there – ever.”

 

I sighed and put my text book on to the table infront of me. “Fine. I walked out; I don’t want more detentions that necessary. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life scrubbing floors and cauldrons. And seriously, the trophies are shiny already, Merlin!” I gave her a detached look. “He ran after me.”

 

“Awww.”

 

“No!” I scolded. “Not, Awww; he tried to convince me to go back to his Common Room.

 

Another snort.

 

“Snort again, and I will chop your nose off.” Charisma said. I smiled a little. Her violence threats were never followed through. Sadly. “You could report him.”

 

“Nahh,” I shrugged. “Besides, I might need him one day.”

 

Ellie giggled while Charisma sat, gaping mouthed.

 

Our snort-fest was interrupted by the opening of the portrait; Charisma’s mouth was still agape. James came through first, diving head first on to the sofa. Kyle and Drew were next, they toppled over each other and nodded a hello before going to the dorms. Freddy was last, he climbed through heavily, books under his arm.

 

“Freddy!” I cooed, arms in the air for a hug, as always.

 

He walked straight past.

 

James looked up from Charisma’s hug; Freddy’s reaction was enough to grasp his attention from that. He shrugged. “Bad day?”

 

Bad day indeed.

 










I took the last step to the boys’ dormitory; I had expected many unpleasant surprises to be waiting for me, dirty clothes, piles of unwashed underwear or possibly even a sight that would scar me for life. But there was something else, not only did I have to witness the coverings of the un-seeable floor, but there was no Freddy in sight.

 

Kyle and Drew looked up as I burst through the door to their room. “Hello, love.” Drew greeted with a smirk, they were playing exploding snap.

 

“Lads,” I returned. “Any ideas to the whereabouts of my darling Fredrick?”

 

Kyle ignored me and carried on dealing the cards; he became very intense when there was a possible competitive game arising. Drew jolted his head towards the bathroom. “You try talking to him; he’s impossible today.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” I muttered picking up a hat that I recognized as Freddy’s, it was white; he only kept this one for special occasions.

 

Kyle chuckled. “I heard that he and Avery got in to a fight.”

 

“About?” I demanded.

 

“Girls, money, house honor?”  Kyle tried, as if he was speaking to an incapable child. “When do Freddy and Avery not get in to a fight?”

 

“But, what are the details?” I continued. “It had to start with something…he fights with Christopher a lot, yes. But none of their past arguments has ever left him waltzing around like a pillock afterwards.”

 

I saw Drew smirk. “Dixie, love. If we knew, we would share.”

 

“Of course,” Kyle drawled. “He’s in the shower.”

 

I nodded a thank you and walked over to the conjoining door. I knocked quietly and waited for a reply. I looked back to the boys, Drew shrugged. Freddy was usually an optimistic soul, for him to act like this was unusual.

 

“Freddy?” I tried. “It’s me.”

A few seconds of silence passed, broken by the gleeful cheer of Kyle and the explosion of a card. The water wasn’t running in the bathroom, not yet, there was just silence. I blurted out the question that had been bothering me for hours.

 

“What is wrong with you?”

 

Kyle looked up in amusement. “Yep, Dix…you can certainly cheer him up.”

 

Drew chuckled quietly. “Leave my beater brother alone, we’ll tell you when he’s human again.”

 

“Will you?” I raised a light brow. “Tell me Andrew, will you really?”

 

“Probably,” he said cheerfully. “If I don’t forget.”

 

“Great.” I leered with a sarcastic sigh. “Thank you for your help.”

 

“Anytime, love.”

















 

I had expected half as much; Freddy and the gang and Quidditch Practice from six until nine. My detention with Avery was from six until half eight. Flint was in charge, I didn’t leave until quarter to ten.

 

After sneezing the book dust away from my nose, I tried to shiftily cover my oxford shirt over with my arms. Avery and I were on strict orders, separate orders. He was to scrub the cauldrons from the potions room and I was to order and sort out the old textbooks. Christopher shot me a smutty glare and winked with his right eye, his left was still bruised. His eyelid found it difficult to shut and the purple clashed horribly with his emerald robes.

 

Thank Merlin for wooden scrubbing brushes.

 

I had sorted out the books with a lightening-speed, each one was perfectly ordered. I knew that Flint would check my work, double check, triple check, just to spite me. But he wouldn’t find anything wrong with it. That was until Avery threw his cauldron water over me, splattering the books behind.

 

Flint arrived back in time to miss the act, but to catch the repercussions. I had slinged the cauldron over his head and had taken it upon myself to smack the heavy, wielded pot with the first heavy object that I could find, in this case, a book. I could swear on my mothers grave that I had no intentions of that one being Professor Flint’s diary. I swear it!

 

As I stood guiltily, wet, shirt clinging to my chest and the odd hair sticking to my face. Avery stood, black eye, cauldron-on-head with a lewd smirk on his face. I look the other way with a scoff; I had no intention to have to endear his vulgarity for another moment.

 

It wasn’t unsuspecting that my demands weren’t met. For another week I shall have to work beside this profanity, and for another week, I shall have to provide suitable comebacks for his unsuitable leers.

 

I stormed down the corridor, fists clenched and arms slung over my chest. If I were a cartoon character, the thermometer would have blown; the steam screeching from my ears would have surpassed a long while ago. I blew my hair from my eyes and made my way to the Quidditch Pitch, knowing Ellie, she would still be in the Changing Rooms.

 

I pushed the coarse smirk from my mind and sped up my pace.

 

How dare Avery even consider for a mere moment that I would like to be splashed with water? He made no suggestion of it before, on that note, neither did I? I chewed my lip in frustration, pulling apart the skin on the bottom lip, chewing through my skin. I walked forward, head down, straight in to something. Somebody.

 

“Dixie?”

 

I looked up shamefully, “Fred?”

 

“Wha…you’re wet?” I blushed. I never blush. Since when do I blush? I swallowed my folly and sighed. “Why weren’t you at Quidditch Practise?”

 

“I’m not on the team, Freddy.”

 

He let out a small breath. “Right…but you weren’t there to cheer me on. You usually are.”

 

“Well I wasn’t, this time.” I snapped. “Christ.” Still not moving my arms from over my chest, I brushed past him and made towards the Changing Rooms.

 

Freddy caught my arm. “Dixie?” He questioned warily. “What’s wrong?”

 

I raised a brow and removed my teeth from their stuck position in my gum. “What’s wrong?” he took my hissed echo as a correct indicator to jump back in surprise. “You ignore me all day, treat every body like they’re some sort of disease, but now you’re fine.” He blinked and looked to the floor. “You ignored me today in he Common Room, Freddy, why?”

 

“I didn’t see you.”

 

“Don’t give me that.” I sneered.

 

He nodded. “You’re right, you don’t deserve that.”

 

I waited for his answer. He gave me none.

 

Foolishly, I pulled his hat back up from over his eyes; he still didn’t look at me. “Fred?” I whispered. “Is it a girl? You know I don’t care abo-“

 

“What happened between you and Avery?”

 

I blinked. “I’m sorry?” His bluntness startled me. I tore my gaze away from his brown eyes and tried to concentrate on the ceiling tiles above him.

 

“Avery,” he repeated. “What happened between the two of you?”

 

“Nothing,” I shrugged. “He was being a dick, so I punished him.”

 

“Why?”

 

I ignored the briskness of his tone. “Because he was being a dick – I just said that.”

 

“No,” he shook his head. “Why did you feel that you had to do something about it?”

 

“Because he was being horrid about you.” I spat. “I wasn’t going to let him say those things.”

 

Freddy’s hands rushed to his head and he gripped it quickly in frustration before his hands fell limp back to his sides. “No, Dix.” He breathed, grabbing hold of my arms. “When he says something about me, I don’t want you to do anything. You just get yourself hurt. I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

 

I pulled away regrettably from his grasp. “Well, I don’t need you to fight mine either.” Lie.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Silence.

 

I scrunched my forehead together and turned my nose up at him. “If that’s all…?”

 

“So nothing happened?”

 

“What?”

 

“Between you and Avery?”

 

I scoffed. “Between me and Christopher Avery?” he gave one nod, short and sweet. To the point. “Never, will I ever touch that scum willingly.”

 

He noticeably relaxed. “Good.”

 

I wished for that I had brought my school sweater vest with me.

 

“Did you think that something had?” I derided. I didn’t know whether to be happy that he cared or insulted that he thought I would ever stoop that low. “Do you honestly think that I am that slutty?”

 

“No, Dixie, no!”

 

“Because if that’s what you think of me, then you don’t know me at all.”

 

“I do know you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I know you better than anyone else!” I stopped. Literally. Not just my outer expression, but the inner workings of my anatomy. “Avery was gloating around about how he got the black eye, his stories involved you and-“

 

“You thought that you would believe him over me?” I gave him no time to answer. “Thanks Fred.” I spat. “Thanks a lot.”

 

I picking up the rest of my pride I stormed away. I didn’t want to see Ellie, I didn’t want to see James and I certainly didn’t want to see him. Go fall from the Astronomy Tower Frederick Weasley.

 

The shameful thing is, we all know that he will be forgiven tomorrow.









 

AN: So, there was the fourth chapter, I hope that you all enjoyed it. I love you guys for reviewing :D You all rock!

So this chapter is a little on the darker side towards the end, Freddy and Dixie throw themselves in to one of their usual spats, but this time it wasn’t so usual. The person that Dixie was buttering up was Barny – yeah, I wasn’t expecting anyone to get it, and I would probably be kinda annoyed as a reader right now, like ‘who on earth – what was she thinking when she wrote this chapter’. Well, I don’t actually think that I can answer that for you. :/ :D

The next chapter will be up soon!

 

Gabe could always make me smile; it drove me mad. “Do I need to shove my telescope up his arse?” he asked.

 

“Please don’t put that terror upon the telescope.” I begged, taking his silver ornament from his stack of scruffy papers and unused, dusty textbooks.








Yes-er-ie. For those of you that read Wolfsbane, it’s the return of Gabe, for those of you who didn’t, I promise to try and stop mentioning it after this. I love to write Gabe, he is one of my favorites. Don’t forget to leave a review.


Chapter 5: The Influential Allure Of Dimples
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Beautiful Chapter Image by Marit @ tda. 
Gabe King


 





I left Freddy standing and continued down the corridor, he didn’t shout after me. I took a left and went towards the Astronomy Tower. I didn’t have my telescope. My telescope is my entire world, that little gold piece of equipment means more to me than my own life. I jogged up the stairs and took a left at the top, stopping at the large oak doors. When I was sure that I was alone, I began to rapidly kick the wood infront of me.

 

With each kick, I felt a punch of anger erupt and rebel through the wood. The door would shake, and then I would do it again. Each kick and punch against the wood was accompanied by harsh words about a certain handsome Weasley.

 

The doors opened and instead of hitting oak, my fist hit a chest.

 

“Do you make a habit of this?” at the sound of his voice I looked up with a glare. If it were anyone else, it would have been punctuated with slight embarrassment. But for Gabriel King it didn’t matter.

 

I looked up to his rowdy voice and scruffy hair and mustered a smile. “I try not to.”

 

“You wanna talk, DP?”

 

I eyes him curiously and then zoomed in on his Ravenclaw robes. “We’ve been Arithmacy partners for almost two and a half years now.” He grinned sheepishly. “When have I ever wanted to talk about my feelings?”

 

“Point taken.” He said melodramatically. “I’m actually shocked that I would even talk to you after witnessing that shocking temper tantrum.”

 

I mustered a small apology smile to the scruffy lad and pushed past him and in to the tower. Gabe was a terrible student, he had a shorter attention span than I and made a regular habit of throwing things off of the tower in despite of himself.

 

I veered my eyes in to an eye roll as he followed me. “Gabe, honestly. You’ve seen the outcome of the door,” I pointed a long finger towards the small splinters on the floor. “For your own safety, I recommend that you leave.”

 

“It’s cute that you’re trying to protect me.” He said. “But honestly, Dix. I don’t need it. As you sad, we’ve been partners for two years. I can handle you.”

 

I raised an eyebrow as a challenge and launched myself at him. Lazily, he lifted a hand up and caught my forehead. I waved my arms around, swiping at his chest embarrassingly. His grip moved from my head to my shoulders and he pulled me in for a tight hug. He called it ‘The Dixie-Special’; it was specially made so that I have the inability to move. I made a mental note to later thrash James for his part in this.

 

I pulled away and sent him an unnecessary growl. “Cheer up; it might never happen.”

 

“Don’t be mean.”

 

“I’m just being truthful.”

 

I stared at him uncomprehendingly while he continued to laugh under his breath. Gabe is famously known throughout our year as the only person besides my brother, Josiah, with the ability to shut me up. He accomplishes it frequently.

 

My mouth snapped shut and he sent me a cheeky smile. I tried to talk, but I had nothing to say. I couldn’t muster any language of any kind. Gabe spoke instead. He walked over to the balcony on the tower and I followed him obediently.

 

His lips twisted in to a thoughtful grin. “There are many things that can send you in to a slump forward slash raging lunatic, but there is only who things, or shall I say person, who can put that pout on your face.”

 

“Fred and I got in to a fight.”

 

He snorted. “Fred? I was going to say Longbottom, but alright.” I leant over the railing a little to my left and shoved him lightly with my shoulder, a small grin worked its way on to my face. Gabe could always do that; it drove me mad. “Do I need to shove my telescope up his arse?”

 

“Please don’t put that terror upon the telescope.” I begged, taking his silver ornament from his stack of scruffy papers and unused, dusty textbooks.

 

His mouth formed in to a small ‘O’. “Right, I forgot about your little obsession.”

 

“My obsession?” I echoed in a questioning manner.

 

He nodded. “Yes, your obsession.” He tapped the top of the telescope lightly, as if it made everything clear. I gaped a little and raised my brows. “You love telescopes.”

 

“Your tone is very patronizing.”

 

“Your obsession is very strange.”

 

“It’s not an obsession!” I squealed. “And don’t treat them without care, like you do; you know it makes me want to push you from the tower.”

 

His voice was rich with humor, but he spoke as if to a child. “Obsessed.”

 

“Caring.”

 

He smirked. “Since when do you care about anything?”

 

I shrugged. He was correct. There were few things that I cared about. With the exception of my friends and my brothers, Astronomy was all that I had left. Other things in life simply passed me by as if they meant nothing. I was scarily loyal.

 

Telescopes were a thing that I had always found fascinating. At the age of six, my brother Nick and received a telescope for Christmas from our parents; he needed it for Astronomy. It was a rare one, from India. Nick had little care for such equipment and he handed it off to me to make me stop crying in my cot. It had shut me up instantly.

 

I love the divinity that it makes of the world around us; through a telescope everything is so definite, yet so unreal. I have been fascinated ever since.

 

“I care about some things.” I argued. “I would care if you fell from this tower for example.”

 

He smiled lightly. “You’d miss me.”

 

“No, because you’re holding another telescope,” I snapped snatching it off of him. “Why do you have two anyway?” I held one in each hand.

 

He shook his head. “You are so, odd.” I veered another eye roll. “I have two because I keep loosing them – oh, drop that face DP, you know that I don’t mean to.”

 

“I bet that you do.” I rounded. “I bet that you do it just to spite me?”

 

“Do I need to pull you in for another Dixie-Special?” he asked.

 

I shook my head and pushed the telescopes back in to his grasp and he caught them as they nearly fell to the floor. “You’re stupid.”

 

“You’re a cynical girl, known famously for her wit,” he countered. “And that’s the best that you can come up with.” 

 

“I’m having a bad day!”

 

His lips twisted in to a mischievous smile. “Tell that to the door.” I tried to send him a final glare and stride towards the said door, but he grabbed my wrist, the telescoped pushed to under his left arm.

 

“If you pull me in for a Dixie-Spe-“

 

“Would some Astronomy make it better?” he asked, cutting me off in more ways than one. He handed me a telescope and held one of his own. “I have over a week of notes that need completing.”

 

I sighed and looked to the sky; it was a clear night. I would send an owl to James. It was about time that he got started too. We were all in the same lesson; usually partnered in to a trio. The boys needed as much help as they could get.

 







 

“I hate Quidditch.” I said inartistically to myself as I watched the team fly around in circles.

 

James had dragged me along to the very first game of our First Year. Charisma was in the Hospital Wing; it was the full moon the night before. He was desperate to watch it and so I became his next victim.

 

I had never liked the sport; my brothers played it constantly. While they would fly around, the wind in their hair, I would watch from the sidelines with demise in my eyes and a sour expression upon my face. Things like that don’t just change over night.

 

But James loved the sport. He thought that it was the best thing in the universe. Within a year he had trained up and became the best Captain of Gryffindor since his Grandfather. He played Chaser.

 

He would trick me in to coming to the games, telling me that I was his lucky charm. Within weeks, it was a regular habit that I would turn up to the practices, just to make sure that he didn’t fall foolishly from his broom. And to offer kind words of support, of course.

 

“I heard that!” Ellie said as she flew past briefly.

 

I sent her a leer and sat back on my usual bench. It had become a regular habit by my third year to come out and watch Freddy play too. He was the ‘big bear’ of the team, the lovable one. But today he showed no kindness of the sort.

 

He treated the bludger as if it were a Death Eater, as if it were about to kill. It didn’t get within ten feat of another player. He was on top. It was the best he had ever played.

 

I leaned forward and took another lick of the lollypop in my grasp. It was red, veracious tramp red. The same colour as my nails today. The same colour of my lipstick. The same colour as the bow in my hair.

 

The same colour as what will be Freddy’s cheek in the shape of a handprint if he gets close enough to me today.

 

I leant back on to the wooden stand, sending my gaze towards the sky. I wore Fred’s Quidditch jumper, partnered with dark skin tight jeans and a pair of high heeled boots.

 

There are people in life who I occasionally would like to hex to Timbuktu. But I won’t, instead I save all of my hatred for specific times.

 

Freddy won’t take it too well.

 

I woke up this morning to a realisation. Freddy Weasley. Occupation, Gryffindor Quidditch Beater, nothing less, nothing more, however, he finds that incredibly hard to accept. Ever school has an obligatory psychotic jackass. At the moment, he’s ours.

 

It just seems odd that I can’t seem to get him out of my head.

 

Ever.

 

Second hour, as the team pushed themselves around yet another lap of the field, some running , some on brooms, the wind attacked my eyes and made them water. I blinked, a tear falling down my face and pushed my long, thin locks from my eyes.

 

As the rounds were first being run, the team had suffered, after only two runs; they were hot, bothered and sweaty. It took only one more lap for the lads to loose their shirts. For another 12 laps, I watched Freddy and the boys run in only shorts and shoes. It’s nearing December.

 

James called an end to practise, placing a kiss on to Charismas head and gesturing hastily towards the Changing Rooms. He sent them in before turning to me and heckling me down to the pitch. I grudgingly got up and crossed my arms across my chest.

 

“Pruitt!” I blinked at the shout of my name.

 

“Potter!” I shouted back, with matched enthusiasm.

 

He glared. “Help?”

 

I jumped over the bench and landed on the one below. From there I walked to the stairs, my expression not once changing on the way down.

 

“Jimy-Jams.” I moaned. “I don’t want to pack up the stuff; I don’t even play.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Dixie-Pixie, you’re a beautiful, beautiful girl.” I smiled. “Don’t make that you’re only charming quality.”

 

I scrunched up my nose and smiled so I had little dimples, one in each cheek. “I don’t need to be nice.” I pointed to a dimple. “Because I have these.”

 

I glared happily to James and pushed back the sleeve to the jacket. The red leather and gold lettering on the jacket was something that we had to fight for. It was a partition started by the Quidditch Team, suitable jackets to represent our house spirit. Only the team got them, and just like the movies, the boys gave their jackets to their girls. Fred gave me his old one, the one he grew out of in forth year. Surprisingly, he off handed it to me; as his ‘favourite girl’. It’s unfortunate that he was on a Russell Brand worthy one night mission. He’s still on it. He will forever be on it.

 

I had contemplated throwing it out, but I just couldn’t. Instead I put it on this morning and felt the anger instantly boil up. It blew the top of the thermometer that was my mind and held it there for the day. I wouldn’t forget what he said, this way. I wouldn’t forgive him as easily.

 

“You alright there, love?” James asked sweetly as I threw a bat in to its rightful trunk.  

 

I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“Fine?” he scoffed. “You and Freddy haven’t spoken in almost three days; I’ve never seen either of you go that long.”

 

I blinked and bit my lip cautiously. “It’s his decision; all he needs to do is apologise.”

 

“He needs to?” James asked. “Are you sure? You’re both as stubborn and as blind as each other, Dix. Is it your fault to? You need to be the grown up here.”

 

I threw the other bat at him, having picked it up from the grass beneath me. He dodged it with a pained expression on his face. “Fred believed Avery over me.” I hissed. “He chose to believe rumour over my word.”

 

“He did what?” James spat. “That’s crap, Dixie. Freddy would never do that, especially not to you.”

 

I shrugged. “Well ask him why.” James sent me a glare of expectancy. “He did.”

 

James nodded. “I believe you Dixie-Pixie; you don’t lie about shit.”

 

“Thank you.” I said exasperatedly.

 

For another minute or two we cleared the pitch in silence, Accio-ing the equipment towards us and re-covering the over turned grass that became of the green. James grabbed my forearm. “Don’t argue with him, please.”

 

“Wha-“

 

“He’s coming this way.” James said. “Please don’t argue. It’s not worth it.”

 

I slammed the lid of the trunk down. It smacked together with a loud bang before the latch fell down and locked the equipment in. I flipped my hair over my shoulder and turned only at Freddy’s voice. He was talking to James, who seemed to be giving him the same advice.

 

He was right about one thing; we were as stubborn as the other.

 

I blinked and smiled in a cute way, more devilish that normal. I was sure that Freddy could see my horns. He shoved his hands in to the pockets of his cottons, unintentionally flexing his muscles. His dark hair matched his eyes and his caramel skin stood out in the late November evening.

 

My eyes travelled to behind him, in the open doorway of the changing rooms stood Kyle and Drew. Andrew punched his best friend on the arm and Kyle leant down to clutch it dramatically. I let out a loud snort. It was probable that he deserved it.

 

“What’s so funny?” Fred questioned, a dark brow rising.

 

“Nothing that you’d be interested in.” I said cutely.

 

Freddy had little patience for Mr. Ellie Harris-I-like-to-kiss-my-girlfriends-lipstick-right-off-her-face, aka, Kyle Sanford of whom he shares a dorm with. He is merely friends with him for convenience.

 

Fred frowned lazily and dug his hands deeper in to his pockets. “Is that so?”

 

I gave a curt nod and then a sigh. I pulled a stray hair from my lips; it had gotten stuck to my Vaseline. The situation reminded me slightly of the one between Charisma and James.

 

They were best friends for almost six years before they got together. She fell in love with him before he did fell for her. Any how, at that point, he had a girlfriend. Charisma’s attempts at perusing James had become more apparent towards the end of the year. In the beginning, there were little pushes in the ‘relationship’ direction, but they became full blown plans. Lily actually had them drawn out and pinned to her wall. I believe the work was designed by Rose-the-family-genius-Weasley.

 

If I were in Chris’ position, I would have just walk right up there and kiss that sucker on the lips and then face the consequences. But now that we were in a similar situation, it didn’t all seem so simple. I had actually done that to Freddy, now look at us.

 

Charisma was always so surprising. She was nothing like her parents. I met her parents once, before they croaked and kicked the bucket. I realize that could have been phrased better. Fred’s always told me that I’m not one for tact. In one, her parents are dicks. There is no way in hell that those two managed Charisma as their offspring.

 

I know that, that silly little blonde fairy has always had secrets. Part of me had wanted to pin her down and batter them out of her. But I knew that she would tell me when she is ready. I had actually made a list at one point of all the secrets that she could have been harbouring. They included everything from being a Vampire to being a secret movie star. 

 

But I wasn’t harbouring secrets, maybe one situation that could have been handled better. But it wasn’t a secret as such.

 

“I didn’t mean it Dixie.” He said quietly. “I just, didn’t know how to phrase it.”

 

I suddenly recognised the expression of fear and enticement, all rolled in to one. “You didn’t know how to phrase what?”

 

“My apology,” he muttered. “I’ve never been very good at them.” I felt a little touched, but pushed it to the back of my mind. “I didn’t believe the rumours.”

 

I blinked. “You sure did the other day.”

 

“No, I didn’t.” He snapped. “You just didn’t let me get a word in.”

 

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” I impulsively snapped.

 

“No!” he glared. “You’re doing it again!”

 

I glowered. “Doing what?”

 

“Cutting me off, twisting my words!”

 

He looked at me fiercely and I pouted. I had fallen in love with Freddy at the word ‘Hello’. However it had only taken another word from his mouth to anger me with such a force it would make children cry with its aura.

 

I took a deep breath and nodded. He seemed a confused at me decision upon action. “You’re right.” He opened his mouth to speak before closing it once more. “I am a disgrace to human kind.”

 

“Dixie!” He derisively called. “Come on, love. Don’t be like that.”

 

I shook my head and took off the jacket, giving it back to him and walking away. I didn’t dare turn around, but judging by the expression of Drew’s face, he had stayed to watch it unfold, Freddy wasn’t reacting angrily. If I looked back, I wouldn’t keep walking.

 

Drew caught my arm and I looked him in the eye. “Drew-ie, please…not now.” My voice dropped to a whisper and he nodded understandingly.

 

He let me go and I walked through the Changing Rooms, kicking over a hat stand as I went. James flinched as I stormed through the boys and through the final door away from the Quidditch Pitch.

 

He knew that it hadn’t gone well. He knew as well as I did.

 










I stormed down the corridor, my usual speed and dodged a small Hufflepuff as she tripped over a concrete slab in the floor and smacked her head against it as she fell forward. I stepped over her and sped up my pace.

 

I dodged it all, the suits of armour, the opening and closing of doors, the students. However what I apperantely couldn’t dodge, or whom should I say, was Professor Longbottom.

 

“Miss Pruitt?” he questioned as he caught hold of my wrists, setting me upright once more. “Are you alright?”

 

I shook my head. “Was Fred Weasley Sr a pillock as well?”

 

Longbottom nodded. “Pretty much. But he always meant well.”

 

“There was never any hope for his nephew of the same name was there?”

 

I had awoken this morning in a bad mood; I had overslept and was late to Arithmacy. James and I had proceeded to play Exploding Snap and receive nothing more than a glare from Professor Flint. What I hadn’t expected was to be joking with our Head of House.

 

Professor Longbottom gave me a look of understanding, “Miss Pruitt.” He said. “When I was in my school years, I was on the receiving end of many of the Weasley twins pranks.” I nodded; it wasn’t a shock. He had ‘victim’ written all over his face. “But they never meant any harm. I doubt that Freddy does either.”

 

“You think?”

 

He nodded.

 

“I think that you’re wrong,” I said through gritted teeth. “He may not mean any harm, but he sure as hell caused it.”

 

“Dixie,” he said with concern. “Please think before you act. You’re an irrational girl, you’ve always have been, since you were a child. I do want this school to stay in tact. Don’t be mean.”

 

I blinked and smiled, popping out a dimple. Longbottom knew this look as well as I did. I wasn’t keeping anything. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Sir.”

 










AN; There it was, I’m sorry about the wait. But I was posting a new one-shot, Her Uncles Eyes, check it out if you have a minute or two – pretty please? :D That and then completing my story, An Object of Interest, I hope that the wait wasn’t too bad.

 

I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. What do you all think of Gabe? He’s my absolute favorite, but I won’t be upset at negative reviews :P

I will update soon, but first, here is a little preview of Chapter 6 – a very difficult chapter to write, I must have tried about six times. I literally have saved on to my computer ‘six,2’ and ‘Chapter Six, Dixie’ ect, ect, ect.

 

“But this doesn’t mean I like you, Pruitt. Your presence alone makes me want to set myself on fire.” I blinked, if this was supposed to be the second part to his heartfelt apology, he was failing miserably. “But I don’t think that I could ever hate you.”

 

“Get rid of your smut and you’re not so bad either.” I mumbled, attacking a crusty corner of the cauldron.

 

A little interaction between Dixie and another there, any ideas as to who? It’s not a difficult one to be honest :D

Thank you for reading. 


Chapter 6: Itís apparently not rational to call a truce with an opposing Quidditch Team member on the day of a match. Not rational at all.
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Authors Note: Thank you for reading so far, I hope you’re still enjoying it, and that you like the rest. Just a quick note to say that ‘wishaway.’, previously ‘Marit’ on tda made me two chapters images for this chapter, and oh dear lordy was it hard to choose – so appreciate it dearest readers :P :D
And also, I own nothing. It all goes to JK Rowling. 









Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
James Potter








McGonagall was furious. James and the boys had pulled a prank, one involving a small child and a Slytherin bathrobe. I didn’t want to know anything else; that was the end of it for me. I had walked away from that part of my life with a slight hint of irrational fear.

 

I was thankful that, at least for the day, her rage wasn’t aimed towards me. The recipients of her anger however, seemed indifferent. I thought that their detentions would be joined with mine. But I was wrong.

 

“Hello, Dixie-Pixie,” Avery smirked at me.

 

I dropped my scrubbing brush. “You don’t get to call me that.” I said through gritted teeth.

 

“From what I’ve heard,” he taunted. “Neither does anybody else. Especially not little Freddy.”

 

“Not even ten seconds in and you’ve already made a ‘Freddy joke’. How quaint.” He grinned cheekily. I picked up the other scrubbing brush and pushed it in to his chest. “Your sources are wrong.” Your sources are spot on, actually.

 

He lightly chuckled and stared me in the eye. “You know as well as I do, that’s a lie.”

 

I sighed. “Think what you like.”

 

“In that case…” he said smutty. “Inserting boorish thoughts … now.”

 

My brush was hurdled towards him in a sudden flush of frustration, narrowly missing his shoulder. I didn’t seem able to control it. If I wasn’t the only other in the room, I wouldn’t have thought it was I who had done it.

 

He snorted. “Is that the best that you’ve got?”

 

“Wait until your back is turned.” I threatened. “That’s when you want to watch your mouth.”

 

“Seriously?” He looked amused. “You want me to be afraid of you, the little, harmless, pixie?”

 

Christopher Avery is easily one of the best known womanizers in the school, but I knew better. He may be able to dodge my hexes and literal objects cast and thrown his way with unnatural ease, he may have the overlooked talent of brushing off my wit like it was a fallen leaf, but he wasn’t as hard as stone. No matter how much he would like to believe it, he wasn’t. 

 

I blinked. “As I said, think what you like.”

 

“Trust me, pixie.” He grumbled darkly. “I am.”

 

I scoffed in disgust and resumed to scrub my cauldron. “Is that all you think about, Avery?”

 

“Pretty much, love.”

 

Smacking down the scrubber in to the bottom of my cauldron I turned to the devilishly good-looking man-whore stood beside me. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and sent him a glare that could destroy the souls of little children. “My name is Dixie, not ‘love’, not ‘sexy’ and most definitely not ‘pixie’.”

 

He gently pinched the top of my index finger, which was pointed at him in an interrogative manner, and put it back down to my side. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah that’s more like i – wait,” I said solely. “You’re sorry?”

 

Avery nodded and blew a stray hair from his eyes. “Yes. Why is that so unexpected?”

 

It was out last night of detention together, his sentence was finished tonight. I would have another four days before I had served my time. It seemed odd to me, and some what disturbing, that I would miss not having Avery there. While he stood by my side, I could at least compete in a competitive conversation with the sod.

 

However the feeling that bugged me most was the nagging one in my stomach that took his apology by total surprise. I had, not once, taken him for the one to be so upfront with them. I expected him to be more like me. I don’t think that I have properly apologized in years. Not meaning it, anyway.

 

“I guess, I just thought that you hated me.”

 

He winked. “Ahh, I could never hate you. I actually kind of admire you, especially your connection with the stars.” He said quietly. “But this doesn’t mean I like you, Pruitt. Your presence alone makes me want to set myself on fire.” I blinked, if this was supposed to be the second part to his heartfelt apology, he was failing miserably. “But I don’t think that I could ever hate you.”

 

“Get rid of your smut and you’re not so bad either.” I mumbled, attacking a crusty corner of the cauldron.

 

Avery snorted indignantly. “Thanks. You sure know how to make a person feel special.”

 

“I don’t need to make you feel special,” I said cutely. I leant to my left and ruffled his hair slightly. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “You already are.”

 

His eyes narrowed and he obviously bit back his insult. It was on the tip of his tongue. My eyes dared him to say it, but my frown pushed it further back.

 

“You infuriate me.” He spat.

 

“The simple smell of your aftershave makes me want to puke.”

 

He scoffed. “The smell of me? You walk around smelling like Weasley ever second of the day.” I veered an eye roll. “You make me sick.”

 

“You’re reputation proceeds you.”

 

“Ditto.”

 

I pulled me hair back in to a bun, twisting it and fastening it angrily with a hair band. I huffed and leant forward, leaning from a distance on the rim of the now-clean-cauldron. I could hear his angry scrubbing, the grunts and cusses that exited his lips. His prominent cheekbones made him what he was, I could see that. It was all the gossip in the girls’ bathroom. He loosened his tie and returned to scrubbing. As he pushed harder on to the brush, the bristles made a louder meshing noise. It took me no longer than a moment to drop my wooden scrubber on to the worktop, letting it fall from my grip, sending Avery a glance and laughing.

 

He seemed thoroughly confused. “What is so funny?” He asked.

 

I wiped a tear from my eye and then on to my trousers. “If that was our try at being partially civil to one another, it was shit.”

 

“Not too shabby for a first attempt.” He corrected, subtly laughing himself. The frustration and anger seemed to fall from his face as his chuckle turned in to a laugh.

 

I blinked and took off my jumper, revealing my oxford shirt; it was too hot to work with the cotton on top. Avery laughed. I frowned. “What?”

 

“I’m just thinking about the amount of lads that would kill to be in my position, at this moment.”

 

My brows furrowed. “Scrubbing a cauldron?”

 

“Watching you take off your clothes.”

 

I growled at his husky tone and whipped him with my v-neck before putting it on to the work top behind me. “So what do you say?” I asked, reaching out my hand to his. “Truce?”

 

He raised a brow and didn’t move his folded arms. “I can safely say that I had never expected this to happen … ever.”

 

“Are you going to take it or not?” I asked threateningly. “If not that scrubbing brush is going well in to you ar-“

 

He took it.

 

I silence myself instantly and replaced my frown with a triumphant smile.

 

Avery nodded, blowing a stray hair from his eye line. He would introduce himself. “Christopher Thomas Avery.”

 

“Dixie William Pruitt.” I said apprehensively and with a little despair.

 

He pulled away and tried to disguise a snort with a cough.

 

He failed.

 

Miserably.

 

Christopher whimpered a little from holding in the laughter, I gestured to him and he gave way, letting it all out. “I’m sorry, Dixie. I really am, but William? Isn’t that a boy’s name?” I nodded and he laughed harder.

 

“You know if this is the way that you’re going to act…”

 

“No, Dixie. I’m sorry.” I pulled my hand back from his grasp that he had retaken and scowled. “I just mean, I’m beginning to see why you’re so touchy about pet names and such, especially when they come from people like me.”

 

I shook my head. “That’s not the reason.” I admitted quietly. “I am the only girl in a family of boys, they hadn’t expected to have one, and so they threw in the name that I was supposed to be called. Dixie was the name of my brothers’ toy pony, it was the first thing they saw, and it became my name.”

He carried on the conversation without looking back up from his cauldron. “So what’s the reason for the touchiness?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I call you pixie and you freak,” he said, still no eye contact. “It’s the same reaction with, love or sexy or even if I call you Pru-ie.”

 

I folded my arms over my chest. “That’s because my name is Dixie.”

 

“But you have no trouble with letting your roommates call you pet names.”

 

“That’s because they’re my best friends!”

 

He just chuckled. “That’s not it; I heard a third year call you ‘Dix’ last week. Surely that’s worse that ‘love’.”

 

“Are you stalking me?”

 

“No.”

 

My mouth formed a small ‘O’. “Well now that’s settled.” I picked back up my brush and began on the next cauldron; surely Professor Slughorn notices that we are now cleaning the already-clean ones. I wondered what the lads were doing in their detention at this moment. Avery looked expectant, he was making eye contact again, I noticed. I knew what he wanted. He was making an effort; I decided that I would too. He could be an asset. “My brother, Josiah used to call me ‘Dixie-Pixie when I was a little girl, he used to say that I was ‘as cute as a button’ or something like that” I explained, barely above a whisper. “We don’t talk any more.”

 

“And so you lost your ‘cute as a button’ status and turned in to a dragon lady?” he asked calmly.

 

“Pretty much.” I deadpanned with a nod.

 

He smirked at me. “That’s the reason?”

 

“Yes,” I snapped. “What was that tone for?”

 

“The tone was for nothing,” he shrugged. “I just think that it’s a pretty bad reason.”

 

I dropped my brush in to my squeaky clean cauldron once more. “Excuse me?”

 

“I just mean that there are better reasons to stop something.” He said judgingly. “Just because you aren’t as close doesn’t mean that you have to loose who you are.”

 

I knew that by the end of this detention I was going to be driven to major physical assault. I couldn’t wait. “I don’t think that we have known each other long enough for you to have your input on that.”

 

“Ok, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

I blinked. “You seem to be apologizing a lot today.”

 

“Ok, I’ll stop then.”

 

I smirked and leant forward on to the work top. “Never apologize for something that you can justify.”

 

“In English?”

 

My fingers twitched towards my pockets. I declined them. “It means don’t apologize for anything.”

 

“You know, dearest William,” insert threat with brush here. “That may be the reason that you get yourself in to these messes of yours.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I brushed off. “I’m not in a mess.”

 

He smirked. “Sure you’re not. You and Fredrick are just not talking for the sake of it.”

 

“Something like that.”

 

He sat in the seat next to me. “Dixie, sometimes you have to be the bigger person.”

 

“I’m not the bigger person.” I said. “I never am.”

 

“Correct me if I’m prying again, I have no doubt that you won’t even hesitate, but isn’t it about time that you tried it.”

 

I scowled, folding my thin lips in to an even thinner line. My wide eyes grew wider and my ears probably flushed a shade of unnecessary red. People would have usually run for the hills, they wouldn’t have wasted a second before scampering off. But Christopher Avery just sat there. Not even a flinch.

 

He rolled his eyes and took my hand away from the brush. I imagine with a slight fear of where it would land when I let go of my own accord. “We only have a few months left at Hogwarts,” he said, if anything, he looked a little sad as he made the realization. “Pruitt, I think that we should put our differences aside, and make other people miserable for a change.”

 

My frown loosened a little. The tosser had a point. “What’s in it for me?”

 

“Your Freddy will apologise in no time.”

 

“And how do you think that will happen, incase you haven’t noticed. I’m not his favorite person right now.”

 

“Dixie, Dixie, Dixie.” He said solemnly. “You’re so naïve, so new to the business. It’s called manipulation. But from what I hear, you’re rather acquainted with the subject.”

 

I raised a brow coolly. “Christopher, I don’t want him to apologise for any reason but he wants to.” I could practically feel hi radiate disapproval. “But I will take you up on the truce.”

 

He nodded one. “Truce it is.”

 









“Bertie’s Beans! Five knuts a pack! Bertie’s Beans!”

 

“Bets! Place your bets here! Slytherin or Gryffindor, the time is upon us!”

 

“Beanie-Beanie-Bean-Beans!”


“Chocolaaatee Frooo-ooogs!”

 

I kicked the wooden bench in the stadium and sent the third year flying. “Will you fuck off with your effing Frogs?” He rolled over and began to hastily gather the contents of his stock.

 

“Anger issues much?” Gabe asked, gently taking hold of my shoulders and guiding me away from the imbecile child.

 

“I don’t have anger issues.” I hissed through gritted teeth. “He shouted it in my ear!”

 

Gabe furrowed his brows. “And he deserved to be pushed over, did he?”

 

“Sorry, Sir.” I mocked. “Next time I will let the bastard scream at me.”

 

He shook his head. “You’re missing the point.”

 

“Should I kiss him as well?” I asked. “Show him just how much I appreciate his scream.”

 

Shaking his head once again he ignored my comment. “You’ve just flown past the sarcasm checkpoint and shall never return.”

 

“Chocola-“

 

Gabe picked me up and carried me through the crowd. I leant over his back in a fireman’s lift and pounded my fists in to his lower back. “Gabriel! What do you think that you are doing?!”

 

“Saving the third years life!” He commented, placing me down near the middle of the stands. “You would have butchered him.”

 

“That was the point.” I scowled. “His time in this school is limited.”

 

He threw his arm over my shoulder. “He’s only doing what he’s told.”

 

“To cause misery?”

 

“To sell chocolate frogs.” He corrected. Pointing towards the pitch with one hand and his other with his index finger pressed lightly against my lips, he grinned. “Now zip it DP, the game is about to start.”

 

Beside me, he grinned cheekily and dug in to his pocket. He pulled out a handful of Galleons and called over Louis Weasley, he appeared to be taking bets. I sent him a disapproving smile and he winked. The cheek.

 

“Four on Gryffindor,” Gabe hollered at Lou over the cheering crowds.

 

Louis smirked. “You’ve inherited Dixie’s House Pride I can see.”

 

“Nah, its just logic,” He said with a shrug, nudging me with his shoulder. “DP here has royally pissed off your cousin; he’s going to play better now.”

 

A fifth year infront of us whipped her head around, nearly taking me out with her pony tail. Her hair was infested with I-Hate-Dixie-Gremlins. Believe me when I say, L’Oreal doesn’t taste as nice as you would think. I had a sudden scare as I pondered whether that was actually what she did use. I shuddered at the thought.


“Is it too late to change my bet?”

 

Gabe snorted. “Way to keep House Pride there Stevens.”

 

I merely shook my head with derision. “Turn around,” I hissed. “Or you’re loosing that pony tail of yours.” I made a snipping motion with my fingers and she turned back instantly, not hesitating to shuffle forward through the crowds.

 

“You really are a ball of optimistic sunshine,” Gabe said lightly. “You realise that?”

 

Louis disappeared back in to the crowd, having taken down Gabe’s bet. He rapidly began to fill in another command in amongst the sea of Gold and Red students. Beside me, stood a second year, his face was painted to match the roaring lion of our House.

 

The odd student waved a banner, others chanted. From the Slytherin corner, green and silver sparks shot from someone’s wand, sending a slithering snake in to the sky. An uproar of encouragement arose from the area, it similarly matched the contrasting boo’s. School spirit wasn’t hard to come by, but when it came to Quidditch Matches, the rivalry and tension in the air could be cut neatly with a knife.

 

An increasingly threatening chant erupted from the upper west part of the stands, we stood in the east. It was silenced begrudgingly by the teachers. It arose again as the seconds to the game drew nearer, the volume and octave that it was sung at began to increase until finally the players began to fly through the doors.

 

Professors and Prefects were stationed between the divide that was our school. A fight had already broken out and one dueling match. A Prefect had already been sent to the Hospital Wing with major burns.

 

Gabe held back an inner scream but proceeded to yell as the Gryffindors took a lap of the pitch in tow. He grabbed hold of my shoulders and shook me back and forth. “Where is your excitement?” he demanded. “Where is your smile?”

 

I glanced upwards, meeting his concerned gaze. I forced a smile. “It’s there.”

 

“That’s not your smile.” He said. “That’s your ‘I’m-going-to-fake-it-because-I-wish-that-he-would-stop-asking grin.” He was shouting, struggling to be heard over the cheers of our Housemates. “I’m not going to give up by the way.”

 

I knew from personal experience that he was incredibly persistent. “I’m fine.”

 

“You don’t look it.” He said, peering at my expression, his face getting closer to mine.

 

I pressed my nose to his. “Well I am.”

 

As a first year screamed from behind me, chanting Freddy’s name I felt a small pang of my former excitement rush back in to my body. I began to enthusiastically squeal quietly bouncing on my toes subtly. Gabe pulled away and smacked his forehead against mine. “Nutted!”

 

“You’re unreasonably annoying!” I shouted in to his face, pressing my fingers to my eyebrow.

 

With a wink he threw his arms around my shoulders. “I try my best.”

 

I met his playful expression with a perceptibly irritated look and I frowned. It was hard to achieve in amongst the crowd. It quickly turned to a smile and I shook my head and cast my gaze over to the pitch instead. When the First Year had been calling Freddy’s name, I hadn’t realized that he was so close. Metres infact. His gaze quickly tore away from Gabe and I. he had been watching.

 

Louis walked past, handing me a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and grinned, pulling my gaze away from Fred. “I thought that you could enjoy them.” He said. “Whether they are digested or used as ammo.”

 

I grinned and ruffled his hair. “I knew there was a reason that you were my favorite Weasley.”

 

“Don’t let Freddy hear you say that,” he gasped. “By the way that he’s been glaring at you, I’d say it wouldn’t end well.”

 

“He can glare all he wants,” I said, evidently annoyed. “But when the wind changes, he will be stuck like that forever.”

 

“I think the wind just blew.” Louis noted, rolling his eyes.

 

I looked towards Fred. The scowl that enveloped his features was disgraceful.

 

“It blew along time ago, Lou.” I replied with a dash of sarcasm. He left and I had to double back from Gabe’s inspecting expression. “What?”

 

He merely shook his head with a little astonishment. He stood up straight, his full height startling me a little. “I think I’ve just figured out why you’re parading the Mona Lisa expression.”






I glowered. “I am not a scowling portrait.”

 

“But you could be,” he tried. “One day. You’ve mastered the scowl.” If anything it grew. I shook my head and turned back to the game. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest; Charisma threw the Quaffle through the hoop. Gabe nudged the bottom of my chin and joined in with the cheering.

 

It was at that moment that Lee Jordan Jr’s voice that was booming through the stadium had registered in my ears. “That’s 30-10 to Gryffindor!” His voice was slightly crackled; the megaphone was in need of a replacement. This didn’t seem to bother the crowd in the slightest; they only cheered louder and captured the attention of possibly every animal in the forest.

 

“The cold weather doesn’t seem to be slowing down Potter as he sends it through the hoop for the third time this game.” He resumed gaining another roaring response. “40-10 to the Gryff’s. The Slytherins don’t seem too happy with this result. But I couldn’t care less. They’re over the other side of the pitch, how can they hurt me for any particular demoralizing comments that I will probably make. They’re all slimy gits anywa – what do you meant that’s inappropriate Professor?”






Gabe only encouraged this, shouting louder than the crowd around us at Lee’s behavior. A quick muffled sound was sent though the microphone as I could gather that McGonagall had gathered hold of it.

 

“It’s 40-10 to Gryffindor and Malfoy has the Quaffle.” I turned my attention to Scorpius, the strangely muscular boy for a lad of his height. He was close to Charisma. I could never stick him personally. Too sly for my taste.

 

“Get that stern woman away from the microphone, Lee.” Gabe muttered. I could gather that it was mostly to himself.

 

A section of boo’s erupted through the Slytherin stands, knocking me from my ponder. My eyes darted back towards the pitch. I winced at the play. Avery resettled himself upon his broom having been battered by the bludger. Freddy hit another, and another and another. He was on fire.

 

Lee snatched the microphone back. “Freddy is there something that you wish to talk about, love?” he teased. The tugging on McGonagall’s behalf could be heard through the amplifiers. “It’s not good to bottle things up.”

 

A bludger was aimed towards the teachers’ stands.

 

“Now, now, Freddy.” Lee mocked. “That wasn’t ver-“

 

“Weasley!” McGonagall shouted. “Detention!”

 

Another to add to his résumé.

 

Freddy didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

 

On the upward account that McGonagall and Lee seemed to be sharing the microphone, their contradicting announcements filled the stadium, causing a (if it was even possible) bigger up rise from the crowd. With a regretful expression sent my way, Fred flew off to Drew, his fellow beater. They continued to bat the ball between each other, taking out the odd Slytherin Chaser as they passed.

 

Boo’s drifted from the stands as Slytherin scored another hoop. The Quaffle flew through and jolted Ellie from her formal posture. I screamed in protest, along with many others.

 

“Are they serious?!” Gabe called out. “That should be a foul, Malfoy aimed that n purpose.”

 

“Oh look. Now he’s chatting to Charisma.” I said, finding myself slightly amused with disbelief more than anger or understanding.

 

Gabe grunted. “I never understood their friendship.”

 

“No one does,” I said with a shrug. “James only puts up with it because Charisma would never talk to him again if he didn’t.”

 

“You have strange friends.” He acknowledged.

 

I nodded. “You’re at the top of the list, babe.”

 

His free hand budged the bottom of my chin. “You’ve just made my year.”

 

“Stop being an idiot.”

 

“No, I’m not kidding around DP,” he said slightly wistful. “You’re the light of my life.” I rolled my eyes, “The apple of my eye. You mean the world to me.”

 

I quickly considered if his brain would explode if it were ever to have to deal with being serious, even to contemplate the thought. He pulled me in to a careless bear hug, holding me in the ‘Dixie-Special’. He began to jive and cheer along with the others, leaving me under his arm.






I eventually twisted out of Gabe’s loose grip and he loosened his arm. I punched him lightly in the arm with a grin and looked briefly out over the stadium; my eyes caught the contrasting stare of somebody else’s.

 

This was going to be a long game.

 









 

As it came, I wasn’t too far off. Four hours later I stood, arms folded callously, in the same position I had started in. An undisputed pandemonium cried out from the Gryffindor stands as Ellie caught the snitch. Its wings flitted back in to the golden casing and it snapped shut. Her arm punched through the air. The cries got louder. Chaos began to ensue throughout the stands. At the line between the Gryffindor and the Slytherins, the students began to batter one another, foam fingers smacked round another’s head, homemade and enchanted banners were used to wrap up an enemy. One in a Slytherin banner fell down four levels of the stands before he was thrown in to the air.

 

Prefects ran throughout the tumult to unsuccessfully calm down the students.

 

They failed.

 

Epically.

 

The bench beneath my feet seemed to shake uncontrollably as students began to pour from the stands, jumping down from level to level. I grabbed hold of Gabe’s arm as he lifted me up, the back of my knees resting over his arm, my back lightly being supported by the other.

 

I felt my sight flutter in to a complete frenzy as the screams grew louder, louder than I could ever achieve. My brain was working far too slowly to keep up with the speed of everything around me.

 

Gabe leant forward and placed my back down on to the benches. His arm wrapped around my shoulders. “You were never really one for these games were you?”

 

I shook my head. “What do you think?”

 

“I’m going to go with no.”

 

“Ding, ding, ding and we have a winner.”

 

He frowned. “These games tend to make you more sarcastic, if that’s even possible.”

 

“Gabe, my love.” I said, placing a hand on to his shoulder. “Nothing is ever impossible.”

 

With a single pat to his jacket, I smudged the light red paint that was on his cheeks. He shook his head and smacked my fingers away before grabbing hold of my arm and speeding off down the stands.

 

He jumped over the closed gate, avoiding the stream of desperate students to get on to the pitch. After a game, I would usual sit in the stands. Freddy would come up and find me. Today, I sincerely doubt that happening. Gabe lifted me over the gate, he was easy to read.

 

“DP, don’t be scared.”

 

“I’m not scared.” I snapped. “I just don’t want to talk to him.”

 

He coughed something that subtly sounded like ‘scared’. With a sucker punch to the lower stomach (on my behalf), he pulled me away from the gathering crowds in the centre of the pitch. “Dix, you have to take life in to your own hands.” He pushed a tall forth year back over the gate. Annoyed, he got up from the floor and went around the long way. “You never know what might happen.”

 

“Oh yes, because that wasn’t cryptic at all.” I sneered. “Can you go away, come back and say that to me again at midnight, except can you rattle some chains and dribble blood.”

 

For the first time in almost seven years, Gabriel King didn’t smile at my sarcasm. Instead he brushed a loose hair from my face and punched me supportively in the shoulder. “Just go and get him tiger.”

 

“Don’t leave me,” I pleaded quickly.

 

He raised a brow. “Now, Dix, I can’t exactly come and coach you along.” Another din of delight came from the students around us. James had just flown up in to the air. The great Gryffindor Captain, once again, was acting like a tosser. “Besides, I have just seen a very pretty little brunette Hufflepuff who sent me a smile.”

 

He took no longer than a moment or two to plant a little kiss on my forehead and follow the bee.

 

This was Gabriel King. His mind was a warped vortex of caring and kindness, mixed in with mischief and low-burning sarcasm. However, he also had the small affection for women that most men do. It will be a sad day when Gabe grows up.

 

I felt a small tap on my shoulder. I turned with a frown.

 

After a few tense moments, I managed to recover from my surprise and form sentences in my head. He murmured something under his breath before looking me in the eye, before he had glanced everywhere but.


“Christopher.”

 

“William.”

 

“Fuck off,” I protested, bringing my hands up to his chest as I tried to bat him away.

 

After a moment of curses towards one another and fumbling around, he made it possible to respect him once again. “Count to ten, Dixie.”

 

I had to jump up subtly once or twice and shake myself out to stop myself from freezing up. Never before had I left a persona live for telling me such a thing. But Avery could be acting a lot worse. I had to let it slide. I looked in to his ice-coloured eyes. “Never-“

 

“-tell you what to do, got it.”

 

I had just sat through four hours of utter torture being subtly hinted at that I was a sardonic bitch. Infront of me I had Christopher Avery. To my left, Freddy stood not too far away, Drew and Kyle by his side. A tall and leggy Ravenclaw was poking his chest suggestively. Drew had a dainty brunette tucked under his arm.

 

I had two options, this situation would end with me getting physically battered or driven to physical battering.

 

I stayed by Christopher. At least this way, it may be a fair fight.

 

He smirked at me and I ignored him. “Good game.”

 

“We lost.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You’ve never going to change are you?”

 

“Not in the slightest.” I said through gritted teeth. “I know who I am; I’m not going to change that.”

 

I looked up to his expression. Not an ounce of anger. Not one drop. If anything, he was amused. “It’s a good thing,” he said. “To be sure of yourself.”

 

“You speak like you’re not.”

 

He shrugged. “I’m seventeen, I still don’t know if I like Ice-cream or Chocolate cake the most.”

 

“Both.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t choose between them,” I said stubbornly. “You eat them both. In my opinion, you have warm cake with cold ice-cream.”

 

He chuckled. “You can’t have you cake and eat it too, Dixie.” I blinked and wiped away a hair that had become stuck to my lipstick. “You should take that in to account, in more than one literal situation.” Avery only laughed as my palm met with his face. “Feisty, my dear.”

 

“When you suggest being friends,” I spat. “I honestly thought that you meant it.”

 

“But I did, and I still do.” He rubbed his cheek delicately and moved his jaw. “You pack quite a slap, Dixie. Merlin! I was only offering you friendly advice. Take it or leave it.”

 

“Leave it.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that you’ve ever listened to anyone before, have you?”

 

“I listen when it means something to me.”

 

“And I mean nothing to you?”

 

I shook my head. “I thought that you might have, one day.” I said, my voice getting quieter. “But I thought wrong.”

 

“Well then,” he said, still no trace of anger. “You better get your pretty little butt up to the Gryffindor Tower to a certain victory party.”

 

“You’re a pig.”

 

“And you’re a Gryffindor.”

 

I snorted. “You’re on a roll with these insults, Chris.”

 

“As are you.” I rolled my eyes at his teasing tone. He wasn’t taking me seriously at all. “But trust me; mine was more of an insult that you care to believe.”

 

My eyes narrowed. Within a moment I had drawn my wand from my robes, but there was no need. Avery was already six feet up in the air, spinning in circles. I ignored his cries and his cusses, and all for a damned good reason.

 

If I turned to my left, I would see Freddy Weasley, holding his wand and laughing as if this was an everyday occurrence.

 

I couldn’t turn left.

 

Instead I went right.

 









 

AN: Hi readers! I hope that this update is a bit quicker for you! :D

So, Gabe seemed to go down a treat, I do love him. And I was a little shocked at how many of you liked Avery – it’s not a problem, I love him. But it was awesome to know that you guys too.

 

Anyway, any comments are appreciated, pretty please leave a review – you know the drill :P

 

Chapter seven shouldn’t take too long to come out, unless I miss the deadline for the Christmas closing of the queue.

 

He was as surprised as I was when I ran a hand through his hair, pulling off his hat and pressed my lips against his. He licked my bottom lip teasingly as our tongues moved in perfect sync. He tasted like chocolates, so dark, sweet. Forbidden. He was like the chocolate locked away in the top cupboard, your mother’s chocolate - the chocolate that you could never touch.

 

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. 


Chapter 7: The Consequences of an Odd Day
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Beautiful Chapter Image by Marit @ tda. 
Charisma Price





 

 

I leant over the barrier of the Astronomy Tower, breathing in the cold air deeply. My scarf was wrapped around my neck tightly, the red wool blowing carelessly in the wind. I kicked up my leg, my little black shoes threatening to fall from my feet, for the laces to come undone.

 

I leant out further, both feet off of the ground, hanging on by my forearms. The thick wooden rail was enough to hold a giant, let alone a small seventeen year old girl. The wind took my hair next, swirling it in to every direction.

 

A howl came from the forest, followed by the returning calls of many owls. I bit my lip and squinted my eyes, attempting to pin point the place of the howling. The moon was only half full, but still its light shone down upon the dark grounds. Yet it still did not reach the dark corners of the castle, still people could walk in the shadows unseen.

 

“Dixie!” A deep voice called, arms wrapping around my waist and wrenching me away from the balcony. “Are you mad?”

 

I shook my head. “Only on odd days.”

 

“Such as this day?”

 

“Entirely correct.” I pulled away from Freddy’s grasp and brushed myself off. I brushed my fringe from my eyes and picked up my telescope from the table next to us both. “If you’ll excuse me.”

 

“Dixie, wait.”

 

I ignored his plead and resumed to walk from the Astronomy Tower. My robes brushed the back of my knees; a black hood was pulled up over my head, shielding my eyes.

 

Freddy grasped my arm. “Dixie, what has gotten in to you?”

 

I quickly considered one of many possible crude remarks before settling on a shrug. “Nothing that you would care about.”

 

“I can assure you,” he said passionately. “That I would care.”

 

“The same way that you have been caring for the past week or so?” I sneered. “Yes, you’re a fine specimen of human, Fredrick Weasley.”

 

He tightened the grasp on my arm. He wasn’t letting me go, no matter how hard a pulled against it. “Dixie, calm down.”

 

“Or what?”

 

He had no reply.

 

After six and a half years, he was still at ends as to how to calm me down.

 

He always came up trumps.

 

“If I let go,” he reasoned. “Will you talk to me calmly, we can sit down, play a game of Exploding snap.”

 

I narrowed my eyes. “You just turned my friend upside down infront of most of the school, you don’t listen to what I have to say, you ignore me, shout at me even.” He looked abashed. “What makes you think that you even deserve a moment of my time?”

 

“Because without you, I don’t think it’s worth it.”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” I said through gritted teeth. “I could be replaced incredibly easily.”

 

He shook his head. “No Dixie, you see, that is where you are wrong.” I folded my arms across my chest after knocking down my hood. “You’re my best friend, I don’t like not talking, I don’t like the fact that now you are Avery are friends, on top of all of that, how the hell didn’t I find out about it?”

 

“It’s a new thing.” I said politely. “Freddy, it’s lovely that you feel that way…really. But you can’t just expect me to forgive you.”

 

“And I don’t.” He rounded. “I wasn’t here to apologise.”

 

“Well then,” I snapped. “I guess there is no point in my being here – if you grab me again!”

 

“I promise that I won’t.” He said. “But just listen to me.” I felt compelled to at least give him that. “You’re irrational.”

 

“Goodbye.”

 

“Dixie, please.” I turned. Arms folded. “Dix, love. Even if I did apologise to you, you wouldn’t take it.” I knew that he was right. “You’re not a very forgiving person. Besides that, I have nothing to apologise for. You walked away before I could explain myself. Do you honestly think that I would believe the word of others before you?”

 

I blinked.

 

“I would never.” He said. “I was angry at myself that day. Avery didn’t help, but I didn’t want to take it out on you.”

 

“And so you came to the conclusion that avoiding me, shouting at me and being a general twat would solve this anger of yours, did you?”

 

He bit his lip. “Well, I could maybe apologise for that.”

 

“Maybe you could.” After a rather tense moment, I waited for the apology, but it never came. “Freddy, may I ask you a question.”

 

A nod.

 

“Why did you hex Christopher Avery?”

 

He scratched his chin with a slightly smug grin. “He’s Avery, when does he not deserve to be hexed.” My shoulder dropped, he could see this was not the answer I was hoping for. “Ok, ok. I didn’t like the way that he was speaking about Gryffindor…and mphmffp.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I apologized acidly. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

 

“…and you, Dix.” He said. “I didn’t like the way that he was talking to you, about you. It wasn’t right.” I raised a thin brow. “Yes, I realise that I may not be in the best position to be questioning his methods; he’s been apparently nicer to you than I have of late.”

 

I blinked again.

 

“It’s just that, you’re my girl.” He admitted quietly. “James has Charisma, Kyle has Ellie. Drew has any girl that he could want. You’re my choice. I don’t want to loose you.”

 

I held back the decision to point out that he may have his role mixed up with Drew’s. Instead I just bit my tongue hard and look him in the eye. Releasing my teeth I sighed.

 

“I’m not your girl, Freddy. You made that decision along time ago.”

 

He ran a shaky hands through his hair. “Dixie! We have been over this! Your virginity is one of the most precious things that you have. I was stupid; I threw mine away like it was an old test paper. I couldn’t take yours.”

 

My mouth fell open. “I was headed towards, because you would dump me at a party for any other girl. But now that you’ve brought this subject back up again.” He looked like he had been kicked in the stomach. Fred did anything to avoid this moment in our past. On another note, so did I. “You didn’t know at the time that I was a virgin.”

 

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I didn’t. It was never exactly something that we spoke about. But you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to do something with you that I might have regretted.”

 

“Regretted?!”

 

“That was the worse word that I could have chosen in this situation – but yes.” He shouted, his dark eyes taking on another shade of black. They were cold; they held an over-load of emotion, emotion that would pour out if he wasn’t careful. Part of my wanted it all to fall. The other wanted it to disappear, for him to go along with it. “Friendships fall apart over sex.” He said. His voice lowered. “I couldn’t loose ours.” 

 

 

 

 

My eyes drifted over his room once more as he padded back down the hallway of his home. The day had been spent playing Quidditch, family Quidditch. I had watched from the sidelines happily as our friends began to play. Only days before, Charisma had lost her parents, the spark in her eyes she would usually wear had gone. She was a ghost of what she once was.

 

It took a miracle to get a word out of her.

 

The game had taken its toll, she was close to Drew, she was in an argument with James and Ellie and Kyle had simply gone home. Kyle, on the other hand, felt guiltier than most. Why I hear you ask?

 

Because while kidding around, Kyle had borrowed Drew’s beater bat hit a bludger, and knocked Freddy from his broom. They had left an hour ago. I had stayed. This wasn’t unusual, Freddy’s injuries nor my presence at his home.

 

He walked in from the hallway; cottons hung low on his waist, white shirt with an ice pack placed against the side of his head. He groaned and collapsed casually next to me on his bed. I gripped the white sheets as he rolled over.

 

“I hate Quidditch.”

 

“You love Quidditch.”

 

“On occasion,” he rectified, fumbling around with the icepack.

 

I smacked his fingers away. “Come here.”

 

We sat in a comfortable silence, as I replaced his hands on the icepack. He grinned foolishly before looking at me. I raised a brow. I was on my knees, sat to Freddy’s side. He was sat back, leaning his back against the wall behind his bed. It was a small double; it hadn’t changed since he was eleven.

 

His hands placed lightly on to my thigh. As my thumb stroked beside the blue, spongy pack his eyes seemed to close. His hand mimicked the actions of my thumb, affectionately moving. Freddy’s eyes snapped open and his head turned to me.

 

I dropped the icepack. “Freddy, are you alright?”

 

“Do you ever wonder?”

 

“About what?” I asked shortly, leaning over to fetch the pack.

 

He grabbed my wrist, stopping me from moving. I was ready to pull away, to talk to him seriously. Instead he pulled me towards him before crashing his lips onto mine.

 

I didn’t know what he was doing; I didn’t know what I was doing. I simply followed the instinct that Freddy was mirroring and kissed him softly. I had kissed before, but none of it had ever meant anything. Not once. I had never felt as if every inch of my body was rising in temperature, as if my need for him had created a monster.













For the first moment, I was so shocked by his actions I remained like a statue. But the slightly touch of him, the way his hand brushed softly against mine, the way his lips demanded for more, I lost myself completely.

 

My arms wrapped themselves around his neck tightly as I began to match his passion. Out of all kisses, this was the kiss. That one that is unexpected is perfect. It’s the fairytale kiss.

 

After a minute had passed I pulled away. Our lips were so close together I could feel his breath upon my face. I looked in to his dark eyes and I finally understood how all the girls could fall at his feet. I understood it better than anyone; I had always been one.

 

His eyes, the dark orbs were filled with passion and emotion, so full that I could read almost every thought that passed through his mind.

“Freddy, what did you do that for?” I asked. My breath was ragged, my voice hoarse.


 

His thumb lightly stroked my cheek, voice quiet. “I don’t know.”

 

I remained to stare at him; his eyes flittered over my features. The air around us became thick, heavy. He was as surprised as I was when I ran a hand through his hair, pulling off his hat and pressed my lips against his. He licked my bottom lip teasingly as our tongues moved in perfect sync. He tasted like chocolates, so dark, sweet. Forbidden. He was like the chocolate locked away in the top cupboard, your mother’s chocolate - the chocolate that you could never touch.

 

But I was the naughty child with the stool, the one that defies the rules. I climbed on to the chair and picked that lock until it fell from the latch that kept the cupboards together and took that chocolate.

 

My hands moved from his hair to his wait, sliding down his chest with a teasing touch. He grabbed hold of my thighs aggressively, pulling me closer to him. His fingers dug in to my skin as I lifted one leg up and climbed over his thighs and sat down. He took hold of my waist, pulling me further up his legs and towards his waist.


Freddy broke the kiss, I expected him to stop. But he didn’t. Instead he placed soft and passionate kisses down my neck, his tongue teasing my skin. I tilted my head back a little. A quiet moan escaped my lips; this only seemed to encourage his behavior. My hand gripped on to the back of his shirt, my arms not once faltering from their grip. My head was shouting at me to stop, this was Freddy Weasley, I knew this meant nothing to him. But my heart was telling me to continue, screaming it at me.


 

His lips returned to mine and his hands caressed my neck. My hands ran along the hem of his shirt, and roughly tugged upwards. He obliged almost instantly, regretfully letting go of my waist and lifting his arms up as I pulled the thin, white material over his head. He pressed closer towards me as our lips met once more.

 

His hands fell to my waist as he began to unbutton my shirt carefully. At the third button he began to speed up, working faster and faster until I could push it off of my arms and throw it away.

I cupped his face lightly; his dark eyes met my blue ones. His hands tangled in to my loose hair and he pushed his lips towards mine. His hands began to explore my skin that was exposed to him. I felt his toned stomach brush against my skin as I pushed my body against his.


 

His kissed trailed from my lips to my neck, from my neck to my shoulders. He worked his way down to my cleavage, but he stopped. His head rested, on my shoulder, our bodies still touching. I shivered a little at his heavy touch, he whispered my name softly, a contrast to his voice.

 

“What are we doing?”

 

I felt as if I couldn’t wait any longer, I needed him like I needed to breathe. “Do I really need to explain it to you?” I asked quietly. “Freddy, you’ve done this before. Lots’ of times infact.”

 

“Yes,” he said. “But never with you.” His eyes met mine. “I can’t do this Dixie, not with you.” He kissed me once more, on the forehead. “It’s not right.”

 

 

 

 

I was sure that I wasn’t the only one that felt it, that felt the fire. But he didn’t speak a word about it. Not to me, ever again. Since that day I have felt incomplete, as if a part of me was missing. It didn’t take me long to figure it out; his touch.

 

“I can’t wait for the Christmas holidays to come.” I said harshly, watching his face fall. “I can not wait to get out of here.”










 

AN: I hope that you all had a lovely Christmas and New Year - if you celebrate them that is, if not, I hope you had a good break :D

Comments? Was it Freddy that you were expecting, was this chapter what you were expecting at all? Are you seeing any characters in a different light? Do you understand why he did what he did? 

Now that interrogation is over. Thank you for reading!

 


James grinned. “I have Chris, I would never hurt her.”

 

I shook my head. “Of course you wouldn’t. But sometimes people can do things, stupid things…and everything else just falls apart.”

 

“Dixie,” James cooed sweetly and pulled me in tightly for a hug. “Look, Freddy and you are going through a rough patch, you’ll both find your feet soon enough.” I blinked. “I promise. But it will take time to heal, the wounds I mean. Freddy is a man-whore, it’s a fact. But you’re nothing of the sort.”

 

“I’m definitely not a man-whore.”



I will update soon! Don't forget to review!


Chapter 8: So I Wear Wellies Instead Of High Heels, Whatís It To You?
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Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
Ellie and Kyle





 

 I had to give my year group credit; they knew how to throw a shindig.

 

The North Tower had been transformed. With the expectation of the Divination classroom, this Tower was unused. James thought it was a shame, all this room and nothing in it. Now instead, it had been transformed. The corridors were donned with streamers hung from the high, each set with a different house colour. Gryffindor banners ran along the railings of the spiral staircase upwards. To the next section, the banners changed to Hufflepuff. It was the Christmas party, forth years and up.

 

Small groups of people were lounging around the staircases, along with one couple who were doing a little more than ‘lounging’. Most stood aimlessly with drinks in their hands, chatting to their neighbors.

 

Still a hold of Charisma’s hand we made our way up the final flight of stairs. As we crossed over the last step a shower of scarlet and gold confetti fell from the vaulted ceiling of the Tower. It showered over us, making its life mission to get in to our mouths somewhat susceptible.

 

“That was,” Charisma laughed, picking out a piece of confetti, “nice?”

 

“Remind me to thank James later,” I mumbled, pulling my hand from hers.

 

She sent me a smile. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I don’t want your pity.”

 

She nodded understandably. “Then you won’t get it.” I nodded and she brushed aside a hair from her face.

 

I frowned. Charisma glared. “What?”

 

“Suck it up and smile.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Smile for once,” she said. “It won’t kill you. I don’t like mopey Dixie; it’s not you.”

 

I snorted. “I guess I walked in to that one.”

 

She nodded and threw a hand full of confetti that she had brushed off of her shoulder at me. “Anytime. I’m going to go and find James. Will you be alright?”

 

I gave her a simple nod and she danced off happily. All the doors seemed to have been charmed off of their hinges so that all of the rooms were open. As another round of confetti spurted from mid air upon another pair walking up the stairs, I decided to move. I walked slowly in to the large stone room, the large windows opened up on to the roofs of smaller towers. Each one was packed with a dancing crowd.

 

The occasional girlish cry could be heard from the crowd, a shriek or a whoop. But it was hard to be heard over the music – the bass beats and the loud lyrics pounded throughout the crowd and in to the night through the open windows and stone arches. It quickly occurred to me that a mix of powerful silencing charms must have been cast to stop this from waking up everyone who lived as far away as Hogsmeade.

 

On the roof top to my left a heated game of Strip-Monopoly was well underway. It consisted of many of our year group sat at the round table in what was now a minimal amount of clothing. A toned blonde boy that I recognized from my Arithmacy class was sat with a top-less hat on; the banker. He held piles of clothing in his hands while others had a less amount.

 

Freddy had tricked me in to playing last year. There is no such thing as money in this game, instead you pay with clothing. Drew sat at one end of the table, light pink boxers on and tube socks pulled up high. A brunette girl sat next to him, lacey white bra with a top-hat on her head. Between the two their expressions were hilariously serious.

 

To my right, a mini bar was placed. It was directly situated between the two roof tops, perfect positioning. A railing was placed on the flat roof, leading you from one roof top to another, so that you didn’t fall. When people began to drink they wouldn’t be able to walk straight, let alone make it across that!

 

For a moment, I seriously questioned James’s sanity.

 

The bar seemed to serve all from Firewhisky to Cocktails to (according to the insane girl next to me) water. People were spread out amongst different levels of the tower, loud, raucous and certainly boisterous. The tapping of my foot seemed to indicate that the festive mood was infectious. It was the Christmas Party, yet the cold air around us seemed to only heighten the party mood, keeping people moving.

 

I walked over to a stone archway, currently unoccupied, and leant my shoulder against it, followed by my head. I looked over to the dance floor, classed any other day of the year as the observing room. It is used when the Observatory over on the other tower is full, basically, never – lord knows where they had put the equipment for the night.

 

Ellie and the not-so-little-anymore Lily Potter were caught up in the chaos known as the dance floor. They were jumping and squealing their effing faces off. I gaped slightly at their wild arm movements, Lily I was not surprised at; she was often known to wander off to a quiet corner with a hefty lad, but Ellie…

 

She used to be so innocent.

 

It was shocking what the odd drop of Firewhiskey could do to a person.

 

On the roof to my right, the lads stood by the bar. Kyle seemed to be divulging himself in to an alcohol chugging competition, I would state to type, but I seriously considered the wonder if what they were glugging was legal.  Fred and James stood at the other end of the counter, lightly smirking at their roommate all the while taking part in what appeared to be a competitive conversation with one another.

 

Charisma stood by the Monopoly-Strip. She watched Drew with amusement, a slight brow raised. She and Drew used to be shockingly close, like brother and sister, but now that she and James have each other, she and Drew have drifted apart. He has now efficiently joined Freddy on the one night stand mission to hell.

 

“Looking lovely there Pruitt.”

 

I turned around to the amused voice of Christopher Avery.

 

“Are we honestly going to do this?” I sneered through gritted teeth.

 

He sighed quietly. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

 

“For what?” I asked, furrowing a brow.

 

“For whatever you said to Weasley the other week.”

 

I ignored the vulnerable and somewhat overbearing tone to his voice and tried to shuffle away from under his arm, I was pinned to the arch way. “And what did I say to him?”

 

Christopher shrugged. “I don’t know, but he apologized to me-“

 

“He what?”

 

“-And said that he was sorry for hexing me.” He took in the expression that was my gaping mouth and raised thin eyebrows. “I know; this was my reaction too.”

 

I looked over Avery shoulder discreetly and glanced to Freddy and James. They still seemed to be conversing heatedly. It came down to the point of view where, for no good of my intelligence, I had actually managed to sub-consciously make Fredrick Weasley apologise. Freddy and James were both stood to the side, resting one arm on the bar top, out of the way of the crowd; not a usual scene for either of the lads. Freddy lifted up his other arm, putting down the Firewhiskey that he was holding and placing it on to the smooth surface of the bar. He scratched his head through his beanie, looking rather put-out.

 

“Well, what did he say?” I asked impatiently.

 

Avery shrugged. I had come to the conclusion that of late, with the exception of a few naff insults, Christopher hadn’t been that awful to me. Infact, some of his actions could be classed as ‘nice’. Shocking, I know.

 

Before, if you had asked me, I would have told you that he could go and eff himself. I was never in the mood for his humor. Yet, during the struggling time of our seventh year, in exchange for a few shitty insults every now and again I was willing to ignore his total lack of human decency and pass aside the fact that he infuriates me to no end. He had charisma; he was quite a personality too.

 

He bit on his lip a little. “He said that you had a point in all your wild and wonderful little theories of life. That he should listen to you more often.”

 

“Damn right he should.” I grumble darkly.

 

“Now,” Avery chuckled half heartedly. “This is where your edges begin to fray, Miss P – just hear me out, please.” His somewhat clammy hands grip the rock behind us a little tighter. I fold my arms in a dignified way. “You are an incredibly smart girl, Dixie. However you mask yourself from others. If you let loose a little more, you could go far in the world. But you don’t, instead you hide behind these walls that you put up.”

 

I raised a brow and popped out my hip a little. “Hang on, Chris, let me get this straight.” I scrunched up my nose unattractively. “You want me to let loose a little more.”

 

“Yes,” he nodded. “I want you, to let loose. Not the blonde haired, big chest-ed stubborn and incredibly infuriating girl that you pretend to be!”

 

“I don’t pretend,” I hissed. “What gives you the right?”

 

“Nothing,” he breathed in my ear. “But I just thought that I would tell you. I know you Dixie, I know you think I don’t, but I do. You’re an intelligent and beautiful seventeen year old girl. You have the fiery personality that I wish that I could have. I just think that you should be you.”

 

I shifted uncomfortably. “I am me.” It would have sounded right if my voice didn’t crack. “I am me!” I repeated. “So I don’t wear my glasses anymore, so I wear wellies instead of high heels. What does it matter to you?” The ugly expression does nothing to deter him. I was on a sinking ship. “I dye my hair because I don’t like the colour of it, I get testy when people make passing comments about my height – and why the eff am I even telling you this?!” I screeched. “It’s none of your business.”

 

“It may not be my business but I am the only one listening!”

 

“Listening?!” My tone didn’t lower in volume nor did it change. “You brought it up!”

 

He glared at a passing forth year, one who seemed to be making it his personal mission to smother the people around him in cheap cologne. He shook his head and turned back to me. “Exactly, I don’t see Freddy telling you that he prefers the Dixie behind all the dye and contacts.”

 

“And is that what you are doing?” I hissed darkly.

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.” My eyes widened, I felt no choice but to put an end to this nonsense. “Dix, before you became Freddy Weasley’s little gal-pal, the guys in our dorm used to think that you were cute, that you were a feisty girl. Now they think the opposite of you, but still the same with the temper and such, they haven’t used the word ‘cute’ about you since second year. They still think that you look sweet, yeah, but they don’t say it.”

 

I shook my head. “Is this supposed to bother me?”

 

“A little yes.” I tore my gaze away from his. “I like both Dixie’s, infact I happen to think that the one who hides her intelligence is a very fun person to be with, but I think that the smart one is the person that I would rather sit down and talk with.”

 

I gave him a contradictory smile. “I have never once hidden my intelligence, Avery.” I snapped. “Infact I have done anything but, I’m sorry if you can not see that. But not only am I a little shocked at the fact that the Slytherins use the word ‘cute’, but also at the fact that you question me, about myself.”

 

“I’m not questioning you,” he said, smiling a little cheekily. “I am simply pointing out to you what it looks like on the outside. I know you, I’ve said it before. I don’t care who you are, any version of you is a riot. But I don’t see Freddy standing here right now, telling you that he thinks you’re pretty in glasses.”

 

“He doesn’t like girls in glasses.” I snapped. “He thinks they’re an inconvenience at times.”

 

Avery scratched his chin, the way he always does when he gets himself in to a sticky situation. “Exactly, I think that you’re afraid to be who you want to be around Freddy, because he is the only one who can break through those walls of yours.”

 

After wrenching and twisting that knife in to my gut, Avery walked away.

 

Never before had a person managed to make me question who I am. I am a person who is very sure of herself. I have never questioned it. And I never will.

 

I am Dixie Pruitt.

 

I will never be anyone else.

 

Christopher Avery may be the one with the high cheekbones and the strong back, but I had never felt anything but a physical attraction to him once or twice…he’s a fucktard. I am a disgustingly shallow person at heart, and I know it. I am a terrible person and I will be punished one day, but not today.

 

And that was all evident from the questioning look on James face.

 

I looked up and he raised a brow. “Avery?”

 

“Chris, actually.”

 

“Right, I’m going to stick to fucktard.” Great minds think alike.

 

Somehow, during our spat, neither Avery nor I had managed to interrupt anybody else’s night. Still, like drunken idiots, Ellie and Lily were dancing away. I was sure that James hadn’t seen it; if he had, Lily would have been carried out a long time ago.

 

“I heard what he said to you,” James said quietly after he had pushed Avery away with his intensified glare. “I heard the majority.” My gaze shifted down to the floor. “Come on.”

 

He wasted no more than a second before taking my hand and leading me away rom the dance floor. We turned right and went out on to the roof top. I closed my eyes and James pulled me across, I had no interest on looking down on to the grounds of the school, the roof was way too high for such childish games.

 

We walked down from the roof, down a flight of thin stairs and up another, arriving at another roof top. Still the music could be heard but it was fainter, quieter. The beats seemed to fade in to the distance slightly.

 

We were on yet another roof top. However this one seemed different. While the others were accumulated for partying (among other activities) this one was graced with an assortment of deck chairs and floor cushions of all shapes and sizes. I wondered briefly if this roof was for many prohibited activities.

 

On this roof stood a few sets of people, a group of three sixth year Hufflepuff girls sat in the corner, all laughing quietly among one another. A couple stood in the corner, seeming to be in the beginning of these aforementioned prohibited activities. Few others were up here; it made a large contrast to the busy outlook from the other towers.

 

A small bonfire was set up in the middle, in what seemed to be a black fire-proof pot. I blocked out the aimless chatter around me and sat down near it, crossed legged. My blue high-wasted shorts allowed me to do so. The white t-shirt that I wore was tucked I to the top, little red striped crossing my chest vertically. The usual foot ware I chose was on my feet, my red, spotty wellies. No one - and I mean no one - could take these babies away from me.

 

The bonfire spat out little sparks across the rooftop before they disappeared in to the air. I followed it with my gaze and attempted to push out the earlier image of Charisma jumping up and down in our dorm room, attempting to pull up the zipper to her skinny jeans. 

 

“If I recall correctly, it was infact Avery telling you that you didn’t know who you are.” James said smiling widely as he sat down next to me with an ‘oomph’. “Hypocrite.”

 

He passed me his Firewhisky and I took a sip. “He was just being an arse, the usual.”

 

“But it’s not the usual, Dix.” He said calmly. “You and he have been pretty close lately. He was just taking advantage of you, he knows how to get to you…it’s the type of thing that he would do.”

 

“He said that I wasn’t cute,” I said quietly, trying desperately to tear my gaze away from the couple in the corner. They male of the partnership seemed to be sloppily kissing the side of his girlfriend (or supposive girlfriends) face like a hoover. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it. She on the other hand…

 

“He said what?” James snapped. “I swear…” he trailed off in to a version of English that wasn’t understandable to the human ear, only to odd words of ‘fucktard’ and ‘geezer’ became understandable. “Dixie, love. You’re the cutest person on the planet.”

 

I smirked. “Don’t let your girlfriend hear that.”

 

“Oh she already knows,” he said animatedly.

 

“Knows what?”

 

“Of our affair,” he chuckled deeply. “You see I plan to kidnap you over Christmas for a day, I had to ask her permission of course.”

 

“Of course.” I nodded.

 

It was a tradition dating back to our first year at Hogwarts, James kidnapping. For a single day over the holidays he would take me out, usually to Hogsmeade and we would sit in the Three Broom sticks and talk about everything that we could think of. Freddy would always moan how he was never invited.

 

I doubt that would happen this year.

 

Yet, James is known widely for his crazy plans. It could infact be a rouse and he will not turn up on the day, but trick Freddy and I in to doing so. He will then expect us to forgive and forget instantly and run of in to the snowy scene of a made up fairytale.


Dream on James. Dream on.

 

He’s a delusional sod.

 

I gave him a small disgruntled slap and smirked. “I’ve missed you Dix.” He said solemnly.

 

“What do you mean? I didn’t go anywhere.”

 

He pulled me in to the gap under his arm. “Not really, but you just haven’t been around as much. With you and Freddy not talking, and the-mighty-Fredster being my cousin and resident best man in the area, it just makes it hard. You avoid each other like the plague.”

 

“No we don’t,” I said, scrunching up my nose for the second time that evening. “We’re just going through a rough patch.”

 

He shook his head. “I think this one is big Dixie. You and Freddy always make up quickly; it been like, a month.”

 

“Actually,” I said with a sigh. “It’s been nearly a year.”

 

“A year?” He echoed. “Since wha – oh.”

 

I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been friends. But he brought it up again the other week. It just made me remember how mortified I have felt all this time.”

 

James had been the only one that I had told; he was the first that I went to. James is my rock; without him, I would feel no need to persist in life…with Freddy being a dick and all.

 

“You know what,” he tried. “Forget it, actually forget it.” I rolled my eyes. “You know what we strapping lads do when we are in a rough patch such as yours, we go and sleep with someone else, make the girl jealous, or even just to forget about her. It’s a lads thing, girls must have an equivalent.” I smiled a little. “But of course, I don’t do that; I have Chris, I would never hurt her.”

 

I shook my head. “Of course you wouldn’t. But sometimes people can do things, stupid things…and everything else just falls apart.”

 

“Dixie,” James cooed sweetly and pulled me in tightly for a hug. “Look, Freddy and you are going through a rough patch, you’ll both find your feet soon enough.” I blinked. “I promise. But it will take time to heal, the wounds I mean. Freddy is a man-whore, it’s a fact. The description that I just gave you is the way that he deals with things. But you’re nothing of the sort.”

 

“I’m definitely not a man-whore.”

 

James jabbed me in the back playfully. “Don’t be cheeky; I’m trying to be helpful.” I rolled my eyes and gave him a small smile. He could always make the best of a dark situation. “You and Fred will work it out, but in your own way. Charisma and I did, our fight was massive last year. We made other people cry.” I snorted. “I believe we made you cry at a point.”

 

“Eff off.”

 

“I knew it,” I considered pulling out his guts, but then I remembered that I would miss him. He grinned. “Dixie. You’re the most forward person that I know. You’re sure of yourself, you are you. Don’t listen to Avery; he doesn’t know what he is saying. I love you, Freddy loves you. We all love you.”

 

He got up from the floor and left me down there, staring in to the fire.

 

“Oh and for the record,” he added. “Freddy does love glasses. You’re wrong.” James tilted the pair that he wore at this moment. “He always compliments me on mine – says I look, sexy and fetching.” He stuck his tongue out and gave me a twirl, catching the attention of the nearby Hufflepuff’s. “What do you think?”

 

“Fan-tabby-dough-zie,” I laughed, choking somewhat madly on air.

 

He made his way back down the stairs and towards the main party, he left me in Firewhisky. Sod. But he was right, about many things, I know what to do. I’ve always known.

 









 

Just once, just once I would like to see Freddy drop the cocky front that he puts on. I’ve known him long enough to know that behind the arrogant, teasing smirk he slaps on is somebody really quite serious. It’s intriguing to watch him when he defends his friends or people he doesn’t even know too well. It’s nice to see him care, when one of us it upset or the concern in his eyes last year when I got the flu.

 

I just wish that for once, without the boost from alcohol or a shouting match, he would drop his façade and give me the chance to see him for who he really is.

 

But it’s never going to happen. I know that.

 

I went back to the main room, walking over to the Strip-Monopoly table. “Drew?” I asked. He was now wearing his boxers and shirt with the tube socks, he had gained. I gave him a high five. “Good game. Have you seen Gabe?”

 

He shook his head. “Nah, sorry love. If I see him I’ll give him a shout.” I pouted a little, feeling put out. “Dixie-Pixie, you wanna play?”

 

“I’m going to sit this round out,” I said politely. “Maybe later.”

 

He winked; he knew the answer.

 

My response was predictably sarcastic, he merely sighed. I took this moment as my chance to find him. Gabriel was the one that I needed that this moment, I would find him. It took me only a few moments before I spotted his sandy blonde hair over by the bar.

 

“Gabe King!” I called. He turned around before spotting me and sending me a blinding grin. I scrunched my nose up impatiently. Third time.

 

He broke off his conversation with an abnormally pretty seventh year Ravenclaw, making her pout at him sadly as he walked away. It was followed with a glare towards me.

 

It was typical to Gabe to find that girl.

 

“D.P,” he cried pulling me in to a bear hug happily. Ignoring my protests he picked my feet up off of the floor in a rush to get me away from the crowd. “I can not say how glad I am that you found me. Any longer and am sure that she would have been murdering me with her tongue or something.”

 

I held back a graceful snort and grinned instead. “I just got cornered by Avery.”

 

“Wha-shit! No! Oi, you stop!” he grabbed the collar of a passing forth year. “Get this woman the strongest alcohol that you can find!”

 

I grabbed his collar in a similar way to the one that he had just experience, just before he raced off to the bar. “Woah – seriously, don’t.”

 

My voice was muted slightly by the music and again by his t-shirt, of which he was pressing my face in to annoyingly. “Gabe!” I shouted, muffled. “Gabe!” A slap against his chest. I resulted to a shove and straightened myself out once he had let go. He merely laughed. “I actually need to ask you something. Its okay if you say no-“

 

“No.” Insert ghastly life ending, child killing glare here. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I will do anything for you my little Pix.”

 

I had to result to an eye roll. “James told me that when boys get dumped, or their hearts broken, or anything of that variety.”

 

“We shag.” He finished. I pulled down subtly on the hem of my shorts, he didn’t notice. I looked at him expectantly. “No. Dixie, no.”

 

“But you said it yourself. You’d do anything for me.”

 

“But not that!” He gaped astonished. “Dixie, you’re actually my best friend, like the only one that have that I can trust. Because it wouldn’t mean anything, it would just be awkward. And you said it yourself; I can say no if I want to.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to you Dixie.”

 

“Do what to me?”

 

“Well…” he said. “That. It’s odd. Plus, I’m damn good; I’d probably kill you with my awesomeness.”

 

I laughed. “Probably,” I gave a quick huff before plastering a smile on to my face. “Ahh well, it was worth a try. Bye Gabe, enjoy your time with the tongue murdering bint.”

 

“Wait!” he grasped hold on my arm and looked down to my wellies. He was used to me. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I’m going to go and find Avery.”

 

His eyes widened before he noticed my tiny smirk. It almost passed unnoticeable, but he saw it. “Oh, you’re not funny.”

 

“It was a little funny.”

 

He shook his head. “Not one bit.” I felt my nerves slip away as I knew that he was against it completely, he was Gabe; he wouldn’t do anything of the sort. It was known to the female population that he was a heartthrob; I have received many looks of hatred when I stand with Gabriel. However, I can never see to muster the energy to sneer back. I just hurt them later.

 

I sent him a sad smile. “I’m just going to go back to bed. I’ve had enough for one day.” I came back to my senses after one sickening rush of power. “I’m sorry I ever asked you, it was a horrible position to put you in.”

 

“You’re really hurting aren’t you?” his voice was soft, caring. Concerned.

 

I nodded. “I feel like I have this knife in my gut and it keeps twisting.” I felt my voice crack. My gaze was anywhere but to a direct person. “Every time I see him with another girl, it pushed in a little further.”

 

“Dixie, that’s horrible.”

 

“Yep. It really is.” I admitted truthfully. “But you see, the twist it; it ran out of handle a long time ago. It’s now pushing it the wood that you hold it with. It’s poking out the other side. My insides are all mushy.”

 

“Everyone’s insides are mushy, Dix.”

 

“Not as mushy as mine.”

 

He shook his head. “I don’t think that anyone’s are as mushy as yours.”









 

AN: Here it is, chapter eight. I hope you liked it. It was a little different than the others; Dixie takes a step back and listens rather than just shouting at her peers. I’m not sure if she will stay like that for long though.

I’m sorry about the disappointment that some felt with the last chapter. And to answer a question that is frequently asked, she isn’t going to fall for Avery, I’m afraid :P :D

I will update soon with the next chapter! What did you think of this one? Avery and Dixie? Dixie and Gabe? James’ (completely stupid) advice? The party?

 

The next chapter will be added to the queue shortly :)

 


“You’re a strong one Dixie, you hide what you really feel and then you dislike it when people find out your emotions. Something’s up, usually we figure it out ourselves, but this time we can’t.”

 

“When you’re angry your nostrils flare,” Drew explained. “When you’re sad, you don’t really speak. When you’re worried you are a little flakey, you tend to day dream a lot. But now you’re just…”

 

“You’re blank,” Charisma finished. “You seem to have lost that fire that we all hate so much.”

 


 

So there it was, a lovely little scene with Charisma and Drew. I thought it was about time that I threw them in somewhere. Plus, in the next chapter you meet the first of Dixie's brothers, Nick. :D


Chapter 9: Tempter Tantrums are the Highlight of this Day
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Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
Nicholas Pruitt




I deemed waking up groggily the next morning without the assistance of a hangover a mild success. Once I had taken in to consideration my lack of the ability to keep my mouth shut, I also deemed it a success that I hadn’t woken up tied to a Quidditch Pole with my body covered in bruises.

 

That type of an-after-party morning would be deemed as a failure.

 

A big failure.

 

An epic…failure.

 

I do not deal with epic failures, infact they can kiss my pretty little arse. Failure isn’t something that I associate myself with, I prefer the defined term of argumentative success – excuse the contradictory format.

 

As I helplessly struggled to remember the night before, I ran a dainty yet heavy hand over my face, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. Last nights mascara stuck my eyes together momentarily before they popped back open and revealed a mass of blurry purple bed covers. I pulled them high up to my chest and snuggled down. The puffiness of the duvets at Hogwarts were definitely a plu-

 

I don’t have purple bed sheets.

 

I smacked my hand against my face once more, this time as more of a form of stupidity and humiliation more than tiredness and hopelessness. I brushed my hair behind my ear and tucked the covers around my chest tightly.

 

Ah, intelligibility does run amuck when you dance with the class act of ambiguity. I practically wore a sign on my head that read ‘Queen of Elusiveness.’ I should be shot. I was a shameful example to my peers. A wondrous question for the future generations of man…why does everyone drink at parties – what is wrong with scrabble and a take-away pizza, nothing I tell you, nothing. Because, in times when that was hard-core girls and boys such as myself don’t have to deal with the implications that I now do. How do I get myself in to these situations?

 

I might have briefly mentioned before my opinions on mornings. We don’t get along. I’m Spiderman, they’re the Green Goblin. I’m fire, the mornings are water. We have never been close. However, they have always graced with the gift of memory, I have never once forgotten my encouraged actions from the night before. Yet, this morning, it seemed another battle will soon be underway; there are blurs of dancing students, but no real answers.

 

I groan miserably for the simple sake of it and scowl. This particular scowl is different; this one could scare a mountain troll, not just make a child cry. Actually, it could probably blow up a nursery.

 

I pulled the sheets around me tighter and reached down to hold my stomach – I was naked. I was completely naked. I shuffled uncomfortably, a little nervously until I looked to my left. There was a dressing table. It was what was on this dressing table that intrigued me, however. A picture.

 

Apart from drinking my own weight in alcohol, I suddenly remembered what I had done last night. I remembered every second; it rushed back in to my mind like a tidal wave, shocking me with its reality. A cheeky proposal and back came the memory.

 

I remembered the clashing of our lips, our bodies. The laughing as we ran, moved, undressed one another. It all seemed to make sense at the time. But as of this moment, I couldn’t see the sense.

 

Letting James and Charisma leave me alone to party was a mistake, their inept abilities to care for me seemed suddenly irrelevant. I had no idea when it had started to go down hill – my guess was when Freddy reached out and grabbed a Hufflepuff Seventh Year, a blond bombshell and crashed his lips against hers. I believe at that moment things began to landslide.


A cold breeze blows through the room and I shivered indirectly for a moment. I hadn’t been the only one to feel the effects of the wind. The scent of realization suffocated me as I felt his bare skin press against mine. His sleepy moan brought him to his surroundings in the realm of the real.

 

I contemplated for a moment if it was real for me. My eyes shot open as I lifted the newly placed arm from around my waist. It was most certainly real, all 6ft of him.

 

I was a pathetic excuse for a friend. He was a renowned, eligible bachelor, one with a chiseled face and cute dimples. The amount of glares I suffered for the simple return of his friendship. I quickly contemplated the amount that I would suffer for his body next to mine – what was, at a point, on top of mine.

 

I bit my tongue to stop myself from crying out in panic. Instead, I gave him a little shove.

 

“G, Gabe,” I stammered. I had expected to sound like an old chain smoker, not a vulnerable little girl who just lost her lollypop. “Gabriel, wake up.”

 

He rolled over and opened his eyes, for a moment he lay there, his brows kitted in confusion, for another he took an inward gasp and said nothing. For the final, his hands smacked to his face and grasped at his features. I couldn’t decide whether he was trying to pinch himself back to what seemed like a reasonable reality, or punish himself for doing the deeds that he did, with me.

 

Gabe’s hands slipped heavily down his face, little fingers pressed together, they stopped at his side and lay there, limp. “How?”

 

“Alcohol.”

 

He nodded. “Why?”

 

“Loneliness?” I questioned with a shrug. “Boredom, freedom – necessity.”

 

“Alright, DP – I get the idea!” I flinched at his snap and pulled my reached over to the floor, noticing my black pants were discarded there with careless precision. I pulled them on under the covers and lay back. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to snap.”

 

I shrugged. “It’s alright.”

 

Holy mother of f-“

 

“Don’t, you swear.” I warned with a slight crack to my voice. “Now is not the appropriate time to swear.”

 

Gabe’s gaze shot to me like I was mad. “Are you serious?”

 

“Deadly.”

 

His face los any sort of colour. “Please tell me that we didn’t…you know.”

 

“I don’t need to tell you that, Gabriel.” I replied quietly, my head falling to my hands. “If it wasn’t an obvious indication from the lack of clothing, then surly you could figure it out.”

 

He looked to me with an amused face. “And still you keep your wit.”

 

I looked him up and down with a snort. “You could throw me off of a cliff and I would hold my wit over a parachute.”

 

“You look cute right now.” He said quietly. I turned to him threateningly. “What?! I’ve always said that. I just thought I’d point it out.”

 

I gestured to the bed covers, really indicating what was underneath. “And you think that this is an appropriate time for that?!”

 

“Apparently now is not an appropriate time for anything.” A strange feeling twisted in my gut as he shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say?”

 

I reached out for the t-shirt I had just spotted, it was mine, cream and thin red stripes. It didn’t cover my midriff; that was covered by the high-wasted shorts. A glint from the buttons caught my eye; they were hung over a chair carelessly.

 

I pulled the soft material over my head, pushing my arms through the holes. I stayed sat in the bed. I covered myself with the duvet, covering the little dignity that I had retained – aka, nil.

 

Gabe leant out over the side of his bed and picked up a pair of black cottons. He obvious kept them there regularly; they were a comfy trouser. He stood up and ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Dixie,” he said quietly, I gripped a little tighter on to the duvet. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“You didn’t do anything.” I shrugged.

 

He scoffed. “Well, I wouldn’t call that anything.” Somehow, the words seemed more difficult to say then either of us had imagined it would be. “I’d say it was pretty damn good.”

 

It seemed that I kept my wit and ignorance and he held on to his maturity and humor.

 

“Gabe! Be serious.”

 

“You’re right.” He gripped on to his hair and began to slowly pace the length of the room.

 

It was at that moment that noticed the emptiness of his room. He had three roommates, he was constantly chatting about them. The curtains were open on all of the beds, but no one was there, the beds were made. I looked at him expectantly, he simply raised a brow. It didn’t take much to guess where they were.

 

Gabe looked annoyed, but not with me. He had tried to laugh it off, his usual response to everything, but nothing had come of it. He knew as well as I that this wouldn’t be an easy one. I tried to divert my mind and think of something else and he kept up his pace.

 

His hands fell from his hair and rubbed against his cheeks, he groaned. “Dixie, how did this happen?”

 

I shrugged. “Well when two people-“

 

“Dixie!” he raised his voice for the first time in seven years. He rushed to the side of the bed and knelt down, grabbing my hands tightly. “I don’t want to hear your sarcasm right now, I want a serious answer. How did this happen? I don’t need to hear the biological theory, the one worded answer, and I don’t need a shrug. I want a formed sentence – no back chat.”

 

I sighed. “I honestly don’t remember,” I answered truthfully. “I remember asking you, but you said no. We agreed that it was a bad idea.”

 

“Well look where that got us.”

 

“This is bad.” I said, attempting to mimic the tone of his voice. “This is really, really bad.”

 

He nodded, standing up to emphasis just how wrong this situation was. “You’re my best friend, DP. I can’t do that with you,” no, not again. “It’s not right.”

 

They were the exact words, the exact same ones. Again.

 

I gave a sharp nod. “I guess I’m just an abomination to human kind.” I reached out and snatched my shorts, pulling them on roughly.

 

“Dixie, no.”

 

I ignored him and found my wellies, one by the door - the other on top of Gabe’s empty desk. For a Ravenclaw, he did no work. I yanked them on with anger and stormed towards the door.

 

Gabe’s hand caught my wrist; he positioned himself between me and the door. “Dixie, where are you going?”

 

“Away from here.”

 

It would have been strong, if my voice hadn’t cracked.

 

He shook his head and placed a gentle hand on to my cheek. I pulled away. “What did I say? I realise that we weren’t the smartest kids in the world last night, but it wasn’t something that can’t be fixed.”

 

“It’s not that.”

 

“Then what is it?” He asked softly. “DP, you can tell me anything.”

 

I sighed. “You said ‘it’s not right’, that ‘you couldn’t do that with me’.” He nodded. “That’s what he said.”

 

“Oh,” Gabe muttered with a slight nod. “And he being-“

 

I nodded. “It was a while ago, but the words stuck in my head.”

 

“Is that what this is all about?” He asked. “Dixie, you could have just said in the beginning, we could have talked about it instead of getting our selves in to a right old tumble.”

 

I smirked; trust Gabe to throw in the word ‘tumble’ to a serious conversation.

 

He leant back on to the wooden dormitory door. “So, what brought this on now?”

 

“James,” I said quietly. “He told me some stuff yesterday, and I guess I just over reacted.”

 

Gabe nodded and gave a small smile. “You know, I should probably be incredibly offended right now – but I’m not.”

 

“I’m so, so sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” he said envyingly. Gabe shook his head. “When you find – and you will find someone – the one who loves you for you, they will be a very lucky man.” I bit back a smile; he always knew what to say. “…especially if that was what you managed while completely intoxicated.”

 

“Gabe!”

 

He gave a snort and retracted back from my repetitive slaps. “DP, seriously!”

 

My head turned around back to the bed sharply. “I guess it could have gone worse.”

 

“It could have gone a lot worse.”

 

I tried to hide my blush and turned fully away from the door. He slipped his hands in to the back pockets of my shorts. “So,” I tried, “What do we do now?”

 

He looked at me, trying to see any sign of a joking demeanor, but there was none. He knew that I was serious. I didn’t want another argument; I wanted nothing more than to take back last night. I felt odd, but not different, I was still me. It just felt odd that the anger wasn’t there, there was no anger to build up inside my stomach, to bubble up and wait to come out with everything it could muster.

 

It had vanished.

 

Gabe sighed and leant down behind the chair, he returned with a black strappy material hanging off of his index finger. My bra, he handed it to me. “I say, we get dressed – properly, Dix, none of this rush dressing that you seem to have going on – then we go down to the kitchens.”

 

“And party with the House Elves.”

 

He smiled. “Oh, I think that both of us have had enough partying to last us a long time – how about some tea instead.”

 

“Tea it is.”

 










I felt free as I dragged my trunk along the cobbled Hogsmeade Station platform. I was on a definite high. The scarlet train billowed steam, I wasted no time before racing to get off of the platform and on to the Hogwarts Express.

 

“Thank effing Merlin.” I muttered to myself, dragging my trunk along the corridor. I couldn’t be more pleased to be getting away. I love Hogwarts, but I needed a break.

 

I cursed the lord quickly that the Gryffindors chosen carriage was at the back of the train.

 

Charisma had once said it was because they were the loudest, rowdiest and by far the most troublesome lot. But I refuse to think that, we may be some of those things, some of the time, but surely, not always.

 

I made my way through the compartments, nosily peering in to every one of them as I did. I told myself over and over again that I wasn’t looking for an empty one, but even I knew that was a lie. I eventually found our usual carriage, Drew and Charisma sat inside. I threw open the door and waltzed inside.

 

Drew looked up and helped me with my trunk. Charisma was a little wary though; she had guessed that something was up, that something had happened. She just had no idea what. She sat, still, curious. It was the opposite of my expressionless face.

 

I pulled on my hair lightly and began to loosely plait it.













“Good morning Dixie,” Charisma greeted.

 

I replied with a nod. “Chris, Drew.”

 

“Ello,” he said, collapsing in to the stiff carriage seat next to me.

 

I leant back and let out a sigh, tying a hair band to the bottom of the plait. “How is everyone this fine mor-“

 

“Cut the crap.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I said, cut the crap.” Drew reasoned in a pleasant tone. “There’s something wrong with you, and we want to know.”

 

I looked at him pointedly and raised a light brow. “And what exactly do you think is up with me?”

 

He shrugged and so I turned to Charisma, her reaction was similar. Drew scratched his head awkwardly. “We’re not sure. I think it’s some sort of draw-back, because you haven’t stabbed anyone in a while, I mean, you love to stab people in awkward places, whether it be with a stationary implement or a fork or a spoon – you know, the works.”

 

Charisma’s eyes narrowed. “But luckily I know you better.” My eyes widened at her assumption and I tossed a stray hair off of my face. “You’re a strong one Dixie, you hide what you really feel and then you dislike it when people find out your emotions. Something’s up, usually we figure it out ourselves, but we can’t.”

 

“When you’re angry your nostrils flare,” Drew explained. “When you’re sad, you don’t really speak. When you’re worried you are a little flakey, you tend to day dream a lot. But now you’re just…”

 

“You’re blank,” Charisma finished. “You seem to have lost that fire that we all hate so much.”

 

“And now we want it back.” Drew reached for my hand. “You’re our best friend Dixie; we don’t want you to be upset.”

 

I sighed. “I’m not upset.”

 

“Nice try.”

 

“No really,” I insisted. “I’m not upset, I’m not angry, I don’t feel anything – and that’s what bothers me.” Charisma crossed one leg over the other and leaned in from the other side of the carriage in an interested manner. “Lately, I just can’t seem to find the emotion to care.”

 

“It’s odd,” Charisma said. “Talking to you without feeling incredibly insulted afterwards.”

 

Drew nodded. “I want you to call me doofus, or prick. I want you to stab me with a fork or something.”

 

“That can be arranged.”

 

He smirked. “You’re not completely emotionless; you still have your wit.”

 

“Gabe thinks that you can throw me off of a cliff, and I would never loose my wit.”

 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” she said. “But Gabriel Harris is a smart lad.” Charisma said informatively. “He is a Ravenclaw after all, they’re smart people.”

 

I scoffed. “Not as smart as they could be.”

 

Gabe and I had come to the only conclusion that we could think of – to never mention it again. We were still best friends, I couldn’t loose him and he apparently couldn’t loose me, something about my temper tantrums being the highlight of his day.

 

Because he was a Ravenclaw, I had expected an award winning plan on how to fix this tangled web of which we have woven. But he had said nothing of the sort, there seemed to be no other way than the decision that we had reached. We knew that it had been reached in both of our minds before either said a word. But it was awkward, when I looked at Gabe, I wondered if he saw me, or if he saw what I was that night.

 

We stayed close, Freddy was wrong, sex didn’t mess up friendships, if anything, Gabe and I have been closer. It also seemed to give me the ability to over look the annoyance that I found rising when he ruffled his hair in such a manner, now that little aspect seemed like nothing. Instead I felt different on the inside, I didn’t feel like me anymore, I felt as if I had moved on and left everything behind. As if, I didn’t need what I had anymore.

 

When the train had pulled in to the station, Freddy and I hadn’t spoken, by the way of luck neither of us had managed to be in the compartment at the same time. But also by the way of luck, it was Nick that had come to greet me at the station, my favorite brother, the listener, the carer, the sweet one, the Healer. Ellie once referred to him as ‘Mr McDreamy’. No one messed with me while Nikki is around.










 

 

An; There it was. Did any of you expect that? I think that a few of you had guessed, or at least hoped for it. And how many of you wished it was Avery that she woke up with? Come on, be honest :P :D

Who’s your favorite character? From the story so far, who do you like best.

 

I would like to say thank you to all those who have reviewed, you have no idea how much this means to me. Also, to those of you who have said that they feel they can relate to Dixie, it means a lot to know that my ickle characters can make someone feel better :P Hopefully, don’t make the same mistakes Dixie has! Don’t take advice from James – it’s never got a good outcome!

 

I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but I don’t give out the name of the next chapter – usually I do along with the preview. But I love the chapter names of this story so much – they’re so Dixie, but I don’t know if anyone else has noticed that they’re actually snippets from the story. :D

 

It stopped struggling as its ears pricked up once more. I looked to the boys. “You wrapped up a cat?!” I didn’t know whether to be astonished or amused.

 

They nodded feverishly. “It was asleep when we did it.”

 

“So you wrapped it up?”

 

Kellan smiled. “In monster paper.”

 

Kellan and Archie are her twin brothers, alongside Nick; you meet them all properly in the next chapter. I love writing her brothers – they’re the siblings that I wish I had. :D

I will update soon! Don’t forget to leave a review!



 


Chapter 10: I Am Seventeen, Big Blue Eyes, Wellies And Have Acrophobia.
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Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
Archabald (Archie) and Kellan Pruitt




 

 

 I cuddled my knees to my chest as I sat on the white sofa infront of the fire, I stared in to it. I briefly wondered why I had got myself in to such a state. It was an incredibly pointless thing to do, staring in to a fire, when your four year old nephew is running wild around the spotless living room. I fought the urge to push him in to the flames as he past it. I need to get back on track, to see things the way I used to. Cynical and pessimistic. I need to see everyone as a threat, everything as bad.

 

But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t. Not in the depth that I wanted.

 

I was only alerted out of my daze by the approaching foot steps, not by the sound of smashing cups.

 

I turned around and looked at the opening bedroom door. For a moment I hoped that it was just the wind, opening and closing the doors as it does – but then I remembered, there were no windows open, there was no way for it to cross through. But then, out of the room, came Nick. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jeans. His shaggy brown hair fell in to his eyes, he looked tired. He looked, pale, sad and maybe even a little lost. It seemed unusual seeing Nick in such a way.

 

Nicholas Pruitt was the light in a dark room, the life of a party. He was always there with a lollypop when you felt down. When I was young, the twins used to push me in to our fathers pond, I was only little and their height advantage on me was astounding. Nick would always be the one to pull me out, dry me off and then give me a pat on the back. When I was eleven and I received my Hogwarts letter, he celebrated with me and bought me my first pair of wellies – I haven’t been persuaded to wear much other option of shoe since.

 

He looked up and saw me sitting infront of the blazing fire. He rubbed his eyes. It was one in the afternoon; this was his first exit of his bedroom. His tired look suddenly ended and was replaced with his usual careless expression. It took me no more than a moment to realise that this wasn’t his real feeling.

 

When he was seventeen and became of age, Nick bought his own flat. It was small and under-decorated; it took him no more than a week or two to fix whatever problems was with the plumbing, he was a DIY expert. The flat was pained a light shade of grey, white furniture and table tops. The orange fire gave a light glow to the room.

 

Nick jumped over the back of the sofa and laded on the cushions with a large sinking motion. He took the pillow that I was holding and threw it over the back.

 

“How are you today DP?!”

 

I gave him a despairing look, only slightly at the nickname that I recognized so painfully. Gabriel had heard Nick use it many years ago – it became his too. “How am I? You came out of your bedroom looking like Slughorn after a night of rough-and-tumble.”

 

“Are you serious?!” He exclaimed and grabbed hold of his tummy. “I work hard for this belly!”

 

I laughed quietly. “You’re such a sap.”

 

Another crash of cups came from the kitchen. I refrained from rolling my eyes and expressed my tired demeanor through a groan – apparently so did Nikki. There are five of us, the Pruitt kids. First born was Josiah, technically he is our legal guardian but the only guardian he considers himself to be is his sons. Then three years later came the twins, Kellan and Archie, neither seemed to grow up; their still as immature as they were back in their first year of Hogwarts.

 

Four years after, mother was pregnant again, this time with Nick. He will turn out to be the compassionate Pruitt, the caring one, the calm one. The only calm one. The rest of us admit that we have temper problems, problems that we are not willing to work on. I was born three years after. The only girl, the little flower in a field of weeds my mother used to say. She had no idea just how wrong she was.

 

By the age of five, all I wished to do was play with the ‘big boys’, I wanted to be included. When the twins would fight with Josiah, I would join in. When Kellan wanted to slide off of our country home roof on a dustbin lid, I held the rope. When Archie told me that he wanted to build a tree-house, I was first in with the hammer. They’re my older brothers; I have always looked up to them (even when they are caught holding illegal Imp fighting tournaments in their own house).

 

When in my third year I received a letter from the twins, Josiah’s and his wife, Heather were expecting a child. Now, it’s not that I have anything against Heather; I just find her impeccable ability to whine for five hours without stopping rather annoying…although, I always felt a strange admiration for this ability.

 

Today I had been woken up to the sound of banging on my bedroom door. I had moved in with Nick at the beginning of fifth year. By Christmas of that same year, I had managed to ‘Dexter-Proof’ by door. Why on Gods green earth Joss wanted to call his child Dexter is beyond me. If I remember correctly, the twins wanted to call him ‘Ethal’ or ‘Ian’ but Heather was having none of it. I can safely say that none of my brothers had any say in naming the child.

 

Dexter was unable to reach the handle of my door, he had inherited the Pruitt height defect – the one that makes you strangely short. However, what he had managed to inherit were the Pruitt lungs, the ones that able you to scream loud enough for you to be easily heard in Timbuktu. Being awoken by the screams of a whining child was not my ideal Wednesday morning.

 

Nick and I were stuck on babysit duty. Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

“I’ve had trouble sleeping lately.” Nick admitted quietly. I raised a brow and for a moment the miserable face that Nicholas presented first off returned. “Erin and I had a fight.”

 

I placed my hand in his and squeezed tight. “I’m sorry, Nikki – love sucks.”

 

Erin, blonde beautiful and brainy, she and Nick had been together since their sixth year. At twenty years old, Erin wanted to grow up fast, Nick didn’t.

 

“No it doesn’t,” he protested. “It’s the best feeling in the world. You obviously have a virgin heart.”

 

The word startled me in an un-expectable way. I looked in to the fire, Nick did the same. I hoped that we were as close as we used to be, where the ability to read each others mind seemed easy, all we had to do was look at the others expression. He had done as I; he built walls around him, unbreakable walls. It pained me to say that Avery was right about me in some retrospect. I saw my stubbornness in Nick.

 

“What happened?” I asked quietly as Dexter began to run circles around the sofa.

 

Nick looked away from the fire with a sigh. “She wanted kids.”

 

“Kids!” I echoed, “But you’re only twenty!”

 

He nodded. “That’s what I said. Plus after seeing this monster…” he caught Dexter on his third round of the couch and lifted him up on to the sofa. “I don’t think that I can have one of my own, not yet.”

 

I looked out of the window, the edges patterned with fallen snow. Nick’s flat was the second floor of a shop, a shop that the twins owned. It was in the small town of Saltwell, a small northern wizarding village – all inhabitants magical. I’m sure that there is a bear living in the woods. Below the house was a snow covered street, the old cobbled stones reflected the architecture that was the buildings.

 

In the centre of the town was a fountain, at this moment it was frozen but when it would get warmer, the water would flow. Archie threw me in to it during my fifth year. I was still small enough to pick up and treat like a child.

 

But I’m not the baby of the family anymore, now there is a literal child, not just a mental one.

 

Nick’s eyes glazed over me for a moment before blinking and looking back to the fire. “DP, you and Freddy – what’s happened?”

 

“We were talking about you and Erin.”

 

He looked up. “It’s not something that I want to talk about.”

 

“Well Fred Weasley isn’t something that I want to talk about.”

 

Nick didn’t mention that I had referred to Freddy as a ‘thing’ rather than a person, nor did he mention my snappy tone he was used to me. “Well, I gave you something to go on.” He whispered.

 

In response to this I cocked my head to the side and caught Dexter as he flung himself towards me for a hug. I held him tight. “We got in to an argument.”

 

Nick snorted. “Well I could see that, love. Usually you would be inseparable at the train station, but the both of you couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

 

“We had an argument,” I repeated. “About…something.” I wasn’t sure if I was able to discuss this with my brother, no matter how close we were, talking about sex with your brother is a definite no-go.

 

“Ah, that something.” He said understandingly.

 

For a moment we were both silent, he stared at my hand in his and then to Dexter, his head now lying in my lap, his little eyes closed so feverishly. Nick sighed and looked back to me.

 

“If he’s laid a hand on you-“

 

“What?! No!” I exclaimed, looking deep in to the fire. “It was just a big misunderstanding, but neither of us seem to be able to get over it.”

 

“Sex messes stuff up…” he let his voice trail off and he looked away.

 

I was quiet for a moment, I let everything settle. Dexter was taking steady deep breaths as he slept, the only sound to be heard. It made a change from the sound of his screaming or constant ability to smash things. I felt as if I needed to talk about it out loud, to let somebody know how I was really feeling but as much as I loved Nick, it wasn’t him.

 










I blinked twice as I opened my eyes. It made no difference; my room was dark. In the apartment of white and black, my room was red – well, one red wall. ‘Till the day I die, I will be a Gryffindor.

 

I considered my situation. I hadn’t lost Freddy, merely pushed him away. I hadn’t lost Gabe; somehow the entire situation had managed to bring us closer. But I couldn’t stand the thought to look at him and know that he had the one thing I had always wished that I could give to Freddy.

 

But Freddy had always denied it; he had always pushed me away in the opposite way to how I have pushed him. But it was pushing all the way. It may have been hypothetical, but it hurt just as much.

 

I looked to my ceiling with sadness. This time last year, Nick had to bolt the door by magic and muggle methods to keep me away from my friends. This year, he has to bolt my bedroom door to keep me out of it. I have felt no need to see them, no need to chase them all up. If they wanted to talk to me, then they could. James had the right idea, already twelve letters I had replied to, but with each one I could see he was getting more and more desperate to get me out of the house.

 

I had become acrophobic.

 

I am seventeen, big blue eyes, wellies and have acrophobia.

 

What a delightful combination.

 

Freddy Weasley was not perfect and flawless like everyone thinks. He has walls up, like me; he hides his emotions and instead expresses them through a course of one-night stands. I know that he hides things from me, he always has done. He feels as if he can’t share with us, he doesn’t want to burden us with his problems, no matter how much we try to dismiss that fact; it’s not true. He still won’t let up.

 

I pulled the thick white duvet up to my neck and then my clenched fists followed, gripped in them was the seam of the duvet. As I pulled hard on the sheet my toes suddenly became exposed. I wiggled them with an internal winge and a little groan, I was not yet used to the cold. Give me another hour.

 

The dim winter morning sun streamed through the gap in the curtains, lightening up a straight line across the duvet. My eyes followed the line to the gap. Outside there was no noise. By this time the street would usually be filled with busy shoppers, instead all that lurked was the falling snow. Today it seemed different.

 

Outside the door I could hear Nick shouting, more cheering at someone in the kitchen. Thirty minutes ago, the twins had arrived. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was their actions to make him laugh. His chuckle was deep, contagious. I hid my smile in the sheets of my bed; my emotion was not one for smiling.

 

I waited for the cry of the children as they walked down the street, passing through shop after shop. I waited for the crashing of the boxes from the shop below as Kellan would trip with it in hand, Archie would pick it up only to mimic his brothers actions. They certainly are an odd pair.

 

Snow landed gently on to the old windows of my room, not making a sound. I wanted to roll over, to stare at the wall instead of the outside world through the gap in the curtain, but I couldn’t find the energy. I lay still.

 

Only a moment later the cheering in the other room reached a maximum peak, it jeered off before coming to silence, then came laughter. It wasn’t unusual for the boys to run around loudly, although it was unusual for me not to be there too. We were hell for the neighbors, luckily they were never upstairs; they were always in their shops. 

 

The rowdy footsteps that were once circling the living room in a cheery song became increasingly louder as they approached my door. It banged loudly as it swung open, hitting the wall behind it.

 

At this point I was prepared for anything. I was prepared for a panther to be at my door, my brother in only a towel and maybe even Slughorn – hell I would have been less surprised if Slughorn turned up at my door than what actually did.

 

Archie stood on the left, his arm resting on the door frame, one foot on tip toes, a little higher than his other. His dark brown hair ran in to his eyes, brushing his lashes as he shook his head playfully. Kellan stood happily on the right, his palm pressed heroically to his chest. He stood in a hero’s stance; the other hand formed a fist and was pressed to his hip. They were completely identical.

 

Well, apart from the costumes.

 

Kellan stood strongly in a blue Superman kit, red pants and all. The logo was spread tightly over his chest, the costume maybe a tad too tight. Archie sported a batman emblem under his cape. The mask covered his features, the ‘bat-ears’ over his hair.

 

Until this day mother and father have trouble telling them apart. If only they could see their sons now…in all their glory.

 

They wasted no time in running those few steps forward and jumping on to my bed. It fit the three of us at a squish. They jumped in under the covers, ignoring my screams of protest. The morning air made my voice raspy. I told myself that it was the reason for their disobedience.

 

They folded their arms over the tops of the covers and simultaneously turned to me in the middle.

 

Archie smirked from my right. “Morning, Dix.”

 

“We’re here to bust you out.”

 

“Because you know, you can’t be locked in your room on a beautiful-“

 

“-day like this.”

 

I gave a dry smirk. “I don’t feel like getting up.”

 

“Well who does?” Kellan chimed, prodding me in the hip. “The snow is falling, the tree in the living room is twinkling and the son of Satan is gone,” I smiled at his description of Dexter.

 

“But it’s a special day.” I furrowed a brow and Archie elaborated. “It’s Christmas day.”

 

If my expression didn’t say it all, then my sigh certainly did. I had spent almost a week in this room, only surfacing for showers and meals and still I mainly brought them in to my room to eat alone.

 

“You forgot?” Kellan asked, looking surprised before annoyed. He looked over his shoulder to Arch.

 

He pulled his bat ears off of his head and held the mask to his chest. Assisted by a sad expression he turned to me, “Dix – are you alright?”

 

“Well noticed dumb-arse,” his twin assaulted with a punch. “As if the un-showered, cuddled up in bed at early afternoon wasn’t a dead giveaway.”

 

“Early afternoon?” I echoed. “What time is it?”

 

Archie stopped glaring at his brother and put his hand on to my shoulder. “It’s one thirty, love. You really need to get out more.”

 

“Once again, you’ve managed to boil down ‘Are you alright’ in to its most insulting form?”

 

I rolled my eyes at the pair and looked back to the ceiling, my fingers fiddling with the hem of the thick duvet. “Its fine, Kell – I’ll be up soon.”

 

“No you won’t,” he said.

 

Archie nodded. “We know you, Dix.”

 

“You’re not going to get up-“

 

“-Until the last minute.”

 

Kellan furrowed his brow. “Unless someone drags you.”

 

He shared a mischievous smile with his brother. “But then you usually jump back up in to bed. It’s scary the connection you have with this thing.”

 

“You’re not a morning person.”

 

“Although, if we dragged you out now, you’d probably just lay on the floor.” Archie muttered. “You’re acting pathetic enough.”

 

My eyes snapped open.

 

“And by pathetic-“

 

“-We mean, utterly beautiful and-“

 

“-Adorable, we would never think of you in any other way.”

 

“Of course, dear brothers.” I announce grandly. My voice was still a little rusty. I wrapped my arms around either of their necks and squished them close. “Merry Christmas.”

 

Kellan coughed and tried to head butt my shoulder. “Is this your Christmas present to us?”

 

“Holding us hostage under your surprisingly strong grip?”

 

There was suddenly a slight hissing noise erupting from the seams of Archie’s cape. I twirled rather dizzily towards the growl before looking at Archie. The sheepish expression may have been a slight give away. His eyes refused to look at me, but his hands rushed to the movement in his cape.

 

I blinked at the twins. “I was always told that there was something wrong with the two of you.”

 

“What gave it away?” Archie demanded strangely. “The subtle moving of my cape or the fact that I have one on in the first place.”

 

Kellan rolled his eyes rather pointedly. “Or option C, when we were seven and decided that Josiah would look good with a shaved head.”

 

“I will have to go with the latter.” I said halfheartedly; my attention was still focused on the moving cape. “Archie, seriously – you look constipated.”

 

Kellan threw another glare; I knew that I had inherited it from someone. “Arch, mate, just give it to her.”

 

“But this isn’t under the right circumstance.” He replied, rolling over carefully and lying on his front, his cape dangling and shaking horrifically. “She isn’t clean nor is she dressed!”

 

His tone was pleading and slightly mocking. Kellan’s wasn’t much better as they continued to argue as my suspense and much to my dismay. It took only a minute for the reason behind everything to come clear.

 

A small package tumbled from Archie’s cape. It was no bigger than my forearm and fell a foot kicking and hissing all the way down. It rolled over, the object obviously alive and wrapped in red paper, decorated occasionally with a colourful cartooned monster. One, I believe, had a bogey dripping from its nose.

 

“It’s silly really, we get her a hopping parcel and she gives us a headlock.”

 

I looked up to Kellan and shot him a reflecting glare. “Does someone want to explain?” I asked politely, arms folded, as the package began to literally hop across the bottom of the bed. Neither brother went to catch it.

 

“We may have got you-“

 

“-a little something.” Kellan finished. The package rolled off the end of the bed – in what I assume was an accident due to its protesting cries – and landed on the floor with a slight thud and a groan. “We knew that it should be for you when it bit Arch on the finger. It was Dixie in miniature.”

 

The more laid back of the two lifted up his plastered finger to show me. The package was making its way towards what it gathered was the door. It was the wall. Upon realizing that it hadn’t reached its ideal destination, it made its way in the other direction. I turned around to notice Archie’s finger was closer to my face.

 

“Kiss it,” he said. I did. “All better.”

 

What would have been a minor scratch was covered with a white plaster; little blue monsters were covering the space. He smiled and looked back over to the package.

 

Kellan shook his head. “You’ve got to give it props.”

 

“It doesn’t give up.”

 

I nodded in agreement. “Do either of you want to tell me what ‘it’ is?”

 

“You’ll have to open it.” Kellan sing-songed, wagging a finger in my face.

 

I smacked it away and held it still. “Are you mental? It bit Arch on the finger and is currently trying to make an escape via wardrobe. What is it going to find, Narnia?”

 

“It’s a very intriguing thing.” Archie said. “It was hopping along the bottom of the bed a moment ago.”

 

Kellan nodded. “Would we ever get you anything potentially harmful – on second thought, don’t answer.” He added. “And keep the examples to yourself.”

 

I pushed the memory of my sixth birthday to the back of my mind. They had bought be a Hippogriff, correction, stolen me a Hippogriff. It was an embarrassing apology that Father had to make to the wizard-zoo.

 

“Just open it.” They encouragingly whispered. The simultaneous order would have creeped me out most, but I happened to be used to it. They were right; I do need to get out more.

 

I sat up from the bed and crawled out from the middle, swinging my legs around and standing up at the end with a heaved sigh. I walked over to the package and poked it with my foot.

 

“Don’t kick it!” Kellan taunted while Archie snorted. “You’re bloody unbelievable, Dix.”

 

“We don’t kick your headlocks.” I furrowed a brow at Archie. He had never been the brightest crayon in the colouring box, infact neither of them had. But it’s what made them who they are today, two blundering idiots who have a top-priority placement on the Magical-Creatures-Cruelty-List.

 

I bit down on to my lip and bent down to the struggling pastel, picking it up wasn’t on my list of stupid-things-to-do today. Ripping the tape off of the package was the easy step, I then leant in to unwrap it only to find that it did it itself. I had prepared myself for a small lion to poke its head from the present, maybe even a whining child…but not a cat.

 

It stopped struggling as its ears pricked up once more. I looked to the boys. “You wrapped up a cat?!” I didn’t know whether to be astonished or amused.

 

They nodded feverishly. “It was asleep when we did it.”

 

“So you wrapped it up?”

 

Kellan smiled. “In monster paper.”

 

I wanted to question their sudden love of monsters but I doubted I would receive a serious answer. “I love it.”

 

Their smiles grew. “You love it?! Look Arch, she actually loves something!”

 

“High five, my brother!”

 

I rolled my eyes and grasped the cat from the paper. I stroked her absent mindedly, she didn’t seem pissy or mean like the boys had described. It closed its beady eyes that sat in its tiny face – still a little too big for its body. It’s purring was a little messed up, coughing cutely after every few. 

 

“It’s probably full of hairballs,” Archie acknowledged. He reached out to stroke the cat. He retraced quickly after its eyes turned to slits. “Yep, definitely deadly.”

 

“I forgot how small it was.”

 

“You forgot?” I echoed tearing my loving gaze away from the cat. Both seemed oddly surprised that I hadn’t yet been attacked by its strangely sharp claws. “When exactly did you wrap it up?”

 

They looked a little sheepishly at one another and muttered an answer.

 

“Sorry, lads.” I apologized with a sickly sweet undertone. “I didn’t quite understand that.”

 

“Mmmphfulph.”

 

“One more time.”

 

“Yesterday night.” They chorused.

 

I almost dropped the cat.

 

“So, not only did you wrap up a live cat,” I recalled hesitantly. “You also did it the night before it was going to be opened.”

 

“It was asleep!”

 

Archie nodded in agreement. “The paper also has breathing holes.” He gestured to the pinpricked holes in the paper. I bit my tongue. They looked as if they were done with a quill, or that muggle implement…a pen.

 

I look up to the twins. “And you wonder why you’re on the Ministry’s-Animal-Cruelty-List.”

 

It took them no longer than four seconds to get out of my room. Whether it was because of the kissy noises that I began making at the beast, or the fact that they wanted to get out of its paw range, I will never know. All I can recall is the slamming of the door behind them. The cat hissed as it did.

 

I heard a call from outside the door. Nick. “He’s called Hannibal Lecter.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“The cat,” he replied. “It’s called Hannibal. It did try to take a chunk out of Archie’s finger after all.”

 

I nodded in agreement. Hannibal it was. Its snowy white fur was a contrast to its bright blue eyes. A little wet pink nose poked out from its face. It wasn’t the prettiest of all things, but it was mine. He was mine.

 

Christmas seemed to suddenly take an up turning until I remembered earlier this year. I heard Freddy’s voice. That was usually a present in itself.

 

 

 

I laughed unexpectedly and stifled a gasp. “What will you do if I leave you?”

 

“I’ll be all alone and buy many cats.”

 

“Then I guess that I can never leave you,” he commented perceptively. I ignored the little flip that my heart seemed to take as he spoke. His voice was so deep it shook my thin frame. “But there’s nothing wrong with being a cat lady.”

 

“I never said that there was.” I rounded on him. “Infact, I was rather looking forward to obtaining many cats.”

 

He looked at me sternly. “You can’t have that.” He pushed me in to the shadows of the corridor. “I can’t have you preferring a helpless cat to me.”

 

“I am suddenly feeling an undying love for all things feline.”

 

He snorted irritably. “I’ll be sure to pick you up some cat-nip, love.” I smiled like a child and he prodded my nose with his finger.

 

 

 

I felt the urge to assist that cat to its trip to Narnia, to throw it through the wardrobe myself. And maybe follow it.

 









 

 

It had been one of those days, one of those few days that you get in a year. The ones where you get up feeling lousy and end feeling remotely the same. But I had no reason to; it was Christmas day, three of my brothers were acting like hopeless idiots and there was a new addition to the family in the form of a vicious cat that I have already grown to adore. Let’s face it, I do have reasons, but none of them are going to get me here, not today.

 

I let out a long sigh, the colour from the outside air turning to mist from the sudden rush of heat. A little red hat was situated on to my head, flattening my locks. Today I wore plimsolls – the first shoe that I had woken up to see. This cold early-evening I wore a smile on my face, one that was plastered there for the good of the others.

 

Kellan and Archie sang a final song with a bottle of rum before crashing out. What a delightful pair. I had followed Nicks suggestion of taking a walk, Merlin knew that we both needed to get out, to escape.

 

He sat down on the thick wall of the fountain – frozen from flowing. I followed suit and took the space next to him. Nick leant forward and rested his forearms on to his thighs, dropping his head slightly. I sat up quite the opposite, pin straight, head bowed only a little with my hands fumbling around in my lap, covered by a pair of thick mittens.

 

A thick white scarf was pulled tightly around my neck, stopping any air from getting in and probably out. Breathing was a new difficulty anyway, why should this make a difference? Nick sat in a hoodie and jeans, his attire for the Christmas day.

 

“Own up,” I ordered teasingly. “Who got them the costumes?”

 

Nick smirked; I could see it despite not being able to actually see his face. “They needed something different.”

 

“So you got them superhero costumes?”

 

“Yes,” he nodded. “I got you one too. Spiderman.”

 

“I hate spiders,” I said. “You know that.”

 

“I know.”

 

I shook my head with a small smile. “I won’t be wearing it.”

 

“Figured.”

 

We both fell silent for similar reasons. Although we were of different ages, different ethics and jobs, our problems were fairly similar in the way of romance. We had both lost who we cared about. Upon thinking about it, that’s about it. Scratch the former; we don’t have an awful lot in common.

 

I was battling the stages of adolescence, kicking and screaming every step of the way, it’s what my brothers did before me and it is what I will resume to do. I have just hit a little bump in the road, a speed bump if you will. It’s telling me to slow down.

 

I took this speed bump as a sign. I stopped running and took time to look at the world around me, the rut that I had managed to get myself in to. The utter catastrophe that I have landed in…landed may be a bit of an understatement, I would describe it more as a marched-right-in-with-guns-blazing-and-taking-down-everyone-who-stood-in-my-way. It’s how I had been raised, I know of no other ways to deal with life.

 

I brushed a loose hair back behind my ear and blew little shapes of condensation in to the air. It didn’t work well. “Nick,” he looked up. “Do you think that I’m still me?”

 

“Do you mean, at this moment? Or in general?”

 

I shrugged. “I could tell you myself for the answer to the first half, how about the latter?”

 

“You were when you left for Seventh Year,” he admitted. “But when you came back, you weren’t Dixie anymore.”

 

“I’m still me.”

 

“Not on the surface,” Nick said sharply. “Today, where are your wellies? Where is your snoopy top, you love that damned thing.” I bit down on to my lip and looked down to the floor. “Dixie, you’re my little sister and right now I want to actually attack Fred Weasley, but I won’t because I know that it will upset you. But I know you and you have been dealing with Weasley for years now, so it can’t just be something that he’s done, can it?”

 

I shook my head. “Other stuff has happened. I guess it’s all just, knocked me.”

 

“Well get knocked back.” He said. “I broke up with my girlfriend, there is no way of getting that back, to getting back to what we were. But you’re seventeen and you have fallen out with a friend. Love, you can fix that any day.”

 

I didn’t look away from the floor; I merely pulled at a loose strand of cotton from my mittens and counted the snow as it drifted to the floor. I knew that he was right. Nick was always right. He was a guru.

 

He punched me in the up per arm lightly. “I’m getting a little cold, how about making a snow man?”

 

“A little contradictory, but still cool” I said truthfully and slightly confused. “I’m in.”

 

We built one, a big one. He was almost as tall as me. He had two stones found on the street corner for eyes. He had five smaller rocks for a smiley mouth, a carrot for a nose. My hat was placed on to his head and my scarf around his neck. Two branches were squished in to his torso. Why do I call it a ‘he’ you ask? Because Nick called it Freddy. And then he kicked it down.

 


 









 

An; I hope you guys liked this chapter! A lot of you seemed surprised at the previous chapter; I’m glad that I managed to achieve a twist that wasn’t expected. But still, I’m sorry for the disappointment of a few that it wasn’t Avery that she was with. To clarify, she doesn’t fancy the bloke – it’s Freddy for her, all that way. :D

 

What did you think of Dixie’s brothers? The twins – the lovely, lovely twins, and Nick, the loving brother? I think they’re cool. :)

I’m sorry about the lack of other characters in this chapter, there wasn’t one of them from the usual crowd, but three (or four if you wish to include lovely little Dexter) new characters.

 

I will update soon with the next chapter.

 

“Did you, like, fall off of a cliff over Christmas or something?”

 

“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’. “Just went through a little self improvement.”

 

“So you’re not going to be stabbing teachers this term, then?” I shook my head. “Damn.” Kyle finished. “That’s my source of entertainment gone. Wha-“

 

“I’ve got a girlfriend!” Drew announced, cutting of any rude comment that Kyle was going to say.

 

Kyle jerked in surprise. “Huh?”

 

The entire gang is back together – well most of it :L

As a PS, please remember to keep the reviews 12+!


Chapter 11: Iím Going To Take My Fat-Arsed Glasses Off And Take That As A Compliment
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Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
Dixie Pruitt and James Potter


 





 

 

 I dug my hands into my pockets and grinned as a group of teenage girls walked in to the clothes shop on the street corner. Even from the fountain wall I could see their excited faces as they went in to spend their Christmas money.

 

Today was the three day mark; it was three days until I went back to Hogwarts. I had three days to get back my flare. I could do it. I can do anything. I watched a loved up kid follow his mother in to the local café, his arms covered in shopping bags, anymore and he would topple over.

 

As I watched the snow on the streets melt so slowly, I couldn’t help but compare it to something else.

 

A deep voice cut through my negative comparison and threw a wet snow ball towards my upper back, soaking through my thick red coat. Through the avalanche of people, celebrating the last of their holidays, it was his smile that stood out to me the most.

 

James Potter’s black hair fell carelessly in to his eyes as he marched up the street, his padded black raincoat made him look somewhat threatening when he didn’t wear his glasses. A dark red scarf was wrapped around his neck, the opposite to my black one. My scarf was loose, my coat undone so that the wool of the scarf draped around the top of my wellies. James’s was done up tight. His march turned in to a jog and I threw my arms around his shoulders.

 

He made a manly pirate sound before throwing his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in to Gabe’s Dixie-Special. I smacked him silly when he let go. Trust James Potter to get the first true smile of the season out of me.

 

He linked his arm through mine. “Have I ever told you how much I love your brothers for living in a town with two pubs?!”

 

“Frequently,” I deadpanned, grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him down towards ‘The Helena’s Arms’. It was the smaller of the two pubs, and had a significance to the Hufflepuff house. It was great to be there on Holidays; people from other houses came in, dressed in appropriate colours of course, and wrecked the place. Sad if you’re a Hufflepuff, but I’m a Gryffindor, sadly, I marvel in their pain.

 

James raised his eyebrows as we entered but simply took a seat near to the bar. It was a shocking resemblance of ‘The Three Broomsticks’, both places that I greatly appreciate. They both have magnificent tastes in alcohol.

 

I laughed as James tripped over the chair leg and but caught himself before he fell.

 

“If only,” I teased, resulting in a menu to the face.

 

The pub was shockingly full. Wizards and Witches laughed loudly and chatted amongst themselves at their respective tables. The eyes of the odd witch (and the odd wizard) lingered on James a little too long to be normal. But James was used to it. He was the son of Harry Potter; he also had the finest butt cheeks in all the land. Charisma was a lucky lady.

 

“How have you been, Pixie?” James asked me as I began to unravel my scarf.

 

“I swear you just came here to taunt me, don’t call me Pixie.” I rounded. “I pretty much hung out with the lads, the twins woke me up on Christmas morning dressed in superhero suits.”

 

“And they got you a cat.” He finished. I raised a brow. “Nick owled me.”

 

“Oh,” My eyes stopped scanning the crowd and locked with James’. “Was this a casual owl, you know, as you do owl my brother at every available opportunity, or are you taking special consideration as its Christmas?”

 

“He told me that you were feeling a little down,” James snapped. “I can see that you haven’t lost your sarcasm.”

 

“Just got it back actually,” I replied. “Took a lot of guts, the sword of Godric Gryffindor and three tiny german children.”

 

James shook his head. “I’ve known you too long, is that actually sarcasm or are you telling the truth.”

 

“It’s sarcasm, Jimmy-jams.” I rectified. “Although that would have made a compelling story.”

 

“Your life would make a compelling story.” He muttered.

 

Laughing slightly again I caught sight of a waitress. “Two coffee’s please.”

 

“How did you know what I wanted to order?”

 

“Its noon, on a Friday morning, I was going to ask the reason for your wanting to meet, but it seems that you have just answered that yourself, but you should still be sleeping. You’re James Potter, alike me, you don’t get up willingly.”

 

He nodded. “I swear you are my long lost twin.”

 

With a smile, I looked around the crowd that surrounded us. I wanted to see if I could spot one of the twins, out for lunch – a break from the shop. But there was no such luck. A girl tore her gaze away from James as I noticed her staring.

 

“If that’s an invitation, then I instantly decline; I couldn’t be related to Lily. There’s only room for one quick witted bitch in a family.”

 

“And do you think you have that role down, Dixie?” he questioned, leaning forward on the table, resting his elbows on the wood. “Are you feeling rebilish this morning?” He didn’t give me the chance to retaliate. “I think that you’re lying, I think that you’re sweet, that you want a big bear hug and a mug of hot chocolate. I don’t think that there is a bad bone in your body, not at the moment.”

 

I sighed a fell back in my chair. “At the moment?” I echoed. “You certainly know how to make me feel special, Potter. I would throw the hot chocolate back in your face, I will take your sweet and ram it down your throat, but as for the hug – I would take that.” I finished with a shrug. “I’m still me, just a little quieter.”

 

James nodded agreeing, as if to let me win. “So tell me, what’s with the hair?”

 

“What about it?”

 

“Why is it brown?” He asked. “Why have you taken the dye out? Why are your lovely glasses back instead of contacts?”

 

“I guess I just fancied being a little more original,” I exclaimed. “What’s it to you?!”

 

“To me,” he began, signaling to a waitress. “It matters a lot. I love the way that you look, naturally. But when you have it, something is wrong.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

 

He raised a brow. “Dix, the last time that you wore your glasses your mother left to live in Peru without so much as a goodbye.”

 

“Truthfully, I was glad to see her go.” I admitted, parting my hair.

 

“Dixie you’re my best friend, you’re feisty, loud and a pretty dangerous person to be around, but you’re not quiet. You hate your glasses, you dislike having honey colored hair, and you despise letting things go. So what happened?”

 

I clicked my tongue. “Nothing.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“Nothing is wrong, James.” The waitress he called seemed to fumble around and grab the coffees in each hand. Her fingers shakily wrapped around the cup. “I just didn’t finish the end of 2022 on the best of terms with everyone, and I regret that.”

 

“You regret not talking to Freddy?” He said, jumping to a conclusion that I was happy to end with. He took the coffee from the approaching waitress and smiled. “Definitely a Hufflepuff,” he muttered after her departure. “I don’t believe you by the way.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“But I want to.” He demanded. It was loud enough to attract the attention of the odd witch sat near by. They turned their heads and gave a pathetic display of desperation before returning to their own company. He lowered his voice. “I want to Dixie.”

 

A light colour of pink ran across my cheeks. “It wasn’t just Freddy. I did something really stupid, James – and I don’t know if I can say it out loud.”

 

“Halleluiah!” He exclaimed. “We’re getting somewhere! You don’t have to say it, just hint at it.”

 

“No, James.” I said. Somehow, he had the ability to make me smile wider than I had done in weeks. Even at this horrible situation.

 

“Yes, Dixie.” He lowered his voice.

 

I took a sip from my coffee and smiled as it burnt my throat on its decent. “I don’t want to say it, or hint at it, or even think about it. At all.”

 

James stopped moving, his arms held the coffee still. “And why would that be?”

 

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

 

“Do you want to hear my theory?” he questioned. I waved a hand airily. I knew that I was going to hear it anyway, whether I said ‘yes’, ‘no’ or something about flobberworms. “I believe that you don’t want to think about it, that you just want to forget about it. You have pushed what ever the hell happened to the back of your mind now, and you don’t want to think about it again. If you don’t think about it, you can pretend that it didn’t happen. But if you take another glimpse, even for a second then it call comes flooding back and becomes oh so very, very real.”

 

A pause of silence.

 

“I never knew that James Potter could be so insightful.”

 

“And I never knew that Dixie Pruitt could be so blind.” James shook his head and turned his full attention to me. “Freddy misses you like crazy, at Christmas; he hardly came out of his room. Dix, it’s killing him.”

 

“He’s the one that told me that he didn’t want me, that he regretted everything.” The bitterness in my voice could be detected even by the most ignorant of man.

 

James stared straight at me. “You know as well as I do that he didn’t mean it like that, Freddy isn’t good with words.”

 

“If you’re here to defend him then you should just go, because I don’t want to hear it.” I swirled a stirrer through the blackness of my coffee. “Besides, my silence isn’t because of Fred.”

 

The dark haired boy let his spoon fall in to the liquid. “Then tell me, let me help.”

 

I let my hands fall back down to the table.

 

James and I had been friends through it all. He knew everything that I had ever thought, alike I knew him. We had met in first year and been out as partners in Arithmacy, it’s been that way ever since.

 

Under the dark night of the winter sky, last year on a cold late January night, I admitted my ‘encounter’ with Freddy to James. The Astronomy Tower seemed oddly baron that night. I clutched my telescope like it was my lifeline, since that night, and many nights before, they had been an object that I could rely on. People couldn’t always be trustworthy, but you look through a telescope and it will always show you what you want it to see – the almost, always opposite result to a mirror.

 

I looked up in to the boys green eyes. I wished for my telescope, it would show me what I should say. “You told me, at the last party, that when you want to get over someone, you sleep with someone else.” He nodded in agreement. “You said it was a boys’ thing, but you all seem to have a good handle on life, so I took that advice – and to a new level.”

 

“Dixie!” he breathed in a shout. “Dix, that wasn’t for you! That was to explain what Freddy would do, what Drew would do – not you!”

 

“Well, you always say that Fred and I are always too alike for our own good.”

 

His body almost shook with anger and disbelief. “Dixe, I can’t belive-“

 

“You see!” I hissed back. “I knew that you would react like this.”

 

“It’s because I care that I act like this.”

 

I snorted and pushed my dark honey coloured hair form my face. “James, you don’t have the time to worry about me right now. The moon is coming up and Charisma’s Wolfsbane isn’t ready yet – she told me yesterday.”

 

“I still have time to worry about you, love.” He clapped his hands together. “I always have time to worry about you, if anything, I make time.”

 

I let my hands fall back down to my lap. “Am I really that bad?”

 

“You’re you,” he said. “And I wouldn’t change you for the world. But you are a massive handful.”

 

My famous grin spread widely, my dimples pushed up my cheeks.

 

“And that’s the grin that I missed so much.” James resumed. “So be cheeky, be loud and be rude, but don’t take my advice, ever again.”

 

I inwardly smiled. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

 

He shook his head. “Not unless you want me to.”

 

“No,” I said in a bored tone. “I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want them to call me names and stuff.”

 

“They wouldn’t do,” he assured. “But push your glasses up your nose, they’re slipping.”

 

I did as he advised. “I guess they’ll take some getting used to.”

 

He smiled. “You’re going to keep them.”

 

A nod.

 

I crinkled my nose and bit down lightly on my lip. “James, do you like them?”

 

“I love them,” he said and poked his own with his index finger. “I always have.”

 

“You couldn’t have told me four years ago,” I chuckled and he joined in.

 

“It wouldn’t have been a bumpy ride if I did.” He dipped his head and let his grin spread across his face.

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The air tasted of coffee and nuts. “Why is everything so hard?”

 

He shrugged. “The hardest thing in life is to live in it.”

 

I pulled my glasses off and put them on the table, next to my white mug and free biscuit. “Ok, seriously, since when did you become so insightful?”

 

“I always have been,” he said modestly. “I’ve just never bothered to show it.”

 

I grinned and looked about the pub. I hoped that Freddy would pop up somewhere; I wanted to see him more than anything else in the world. I will repeat the constantly said, Freddy and I are too alike. In this case, we are both too stubborn to be the first to say sorry. I admit, I overreacted. And it felt great. I got it out of my system, and now I need safety. Now I need him back.

 

I just need to figure out how to do it.

 

I just need to figure out how to say sorry.

 

How to be nicer.

 

Otherwise, I’ll need to learn how to be without him.

 

And that is something that I don’t think I can achieve.

 

James laughed quietly and ran his fingers through his hair. A tall girl that I recognized to be a Hufflepuff glance over quickly before giggling with her friend. I rolled my eyes. Yes, he is the offspring of a hero. Get over it.

 

He poked my nose. “So are you going to tell me?”

 

I looked up. “Tell you what?”

 

“You said that you took my advice to another level, what did you do?” Thank you for the reminder, stupid. “Or, to be more precise, who did you do?”

 

“Jame-“

 

“It has to be bad, it had to be someone that Freddy hates, so that would be Avery, but then you wouldn’t sink that low. The other option would be a friend, so Kyle or Drew, I doubt that you would hurt Ellie like that – however that may be the thing that made it so bad. So who was it, Kyle or Drew. Oh fuck, it was Fred wasn’t it, that’s the twist. You two actually-“

 

“It was Gabe.”

 

His grin broke. “Gabe?”

 

“Gabe,” I repeated. “Our Astromony partner, your friend of about four years, dry wit, hilarious, floppy blonde hair, unforgettable.”

 

He grinned again and took a sip of coffee. James looked back once he had returned the mug to its small plate. He noticed my expression. “You’re not kidding are you?”

 

I shook my head. “It was a bad way of going about it. I asked and he declined, said that it was a bad idea, that sex messes stuff up, that it wasn’t a very manly thing to do. But then came the countless bottles of firewhiskey.”

 

James tapped his foot against the table leg. “I can’t believe it, I mean Gabe is a gentleman, a kind one at that so it doesn’t surprise me that he said no, and the whole firewhiskey mishap is understandable. But he’s a ladies man, similar to Fred, but less of course, and nicer. He has really cool hair too.”

 

“Then you have sex with him.”

 

A glare. “I just, can’t believe it. You’re … you.”

 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” I said with an eye roll.

 

“I’m just shocked is all,” he added, a little annoyed. “I mean, I can’t believe that I didn’t see this, I’m usually good at seeing this stuff. Plus you two were unusually close before the holidays, like you couldn’t be without each other, close.”

 

I licked my lips. “For possibly the first time in history, sex with your best friend didn’t tear apart the friendship.”

 

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” James said thoughtfully. “As in, it’s a sign.”

 

“A sign for what?” I questioned. “Good sex?”

 

“That not everything is over,” he deadpanned. “And you’re not funny.”

 

I thought that it was. “Who said that I was joking?” I grumbled, looking at my bitten nails. “I’m pining for Freddy, it’s what I do. I wouldn’t be good with Gabe. I am Dixie Pruitt, professional Freddy-piner. I am reasonably happy doing it. I’m going for a more original look for my final few terms of Hogwarts; maybe it will put a different outlook on things.”

 

“Are you serious, Dix?” he asked in disbelief. “How can you brush off shagging Gabe so easily? He’s a really nice bloke; you two would actually be a pretty good match. Do you really want to be with Freddy or do you just want to see if the rumors that go around the changing rooms are true?”

 

My eyes widened. I was wordless.

 

How dare he.

 

He has no right.

 

I simply glared and spoke sharply. “You know better than anyone what it feels like to love someone and to not know whether or not they reciprocate your feelings.” I wondered how he saw me, uncombed hair, bags under my eyes or did he see me simply as who I am, because from his words he surly didn’t show it. “What I did with Gabe was a mistake, and I know that. My silence and crying on over Christmas, locking myself in to my room and not eating was me proving to myself just quite how horrible I am. Don’t you dare tell me that I brushed it off easily.”

 

He looked out of the window and I shook my head.

 

He wasn’t going to apologise. I know James; he is stubborn, not as much as I, but still a fair amount. He was blunt, again similar to me. But he has always lacked the ability to think before he speaks, he says the most hurtful of things without realizing. But he knew this was hurtful, and yet he still said it. And that’s what hurt the most.

 

I grabbed my scarf from behind me and stood up straight, sharply. I didn’t finish my coffee; I simply looked at the mug and then left the pub. I didn’t look back, but I knew that James till sat at the table, looking out of the window.

 








 

Back to Hogwarts. It was the train ride. Drew had picked up the end of my trunk and carried it on to the scarlet train for me, pushing me in to the compartment and trying to throw my jacket out of the window. At least one lump had, had a good Christmas.

 

It was two hours and three quarters of an hour in. I dealt my third card to Kyle.

 

Blackjack. Twenty One.

 

He was a champion.

 

I was not.

 

Charisma and James were not to be found. I hadn’t seen them at the station either. I assumed that James didn’t want to see me, who could blame him? I had left him in the pub, to pay for my coffee, and trudged home in the snow. He didn’t knock on my door that night to apologise, on the other hand, I didn’t knock on his.

 

But for the first time, I didn’t actually have anything to apologise for.

 

My argument with Freddy began on pathetic terms, him believing what he shouldn’t and me not being able to listen. Avery was an idiot, I always knew that, so why did I allow his words to hurt me? But with James, I hadn’t said anything out of line.

 

Drew sat in the corner, staring out of the window, his eyes moved quickly as we passed the scenery. His lips were set with a small smile, an odd occurrence for him. He was one of the ‘smirk paraders’. He was one of those guys that you wanted to punch, despite being good at school work, to be stereotypical.

 

With a glace in his direction “twist” I said to Kyle, but still my eyes were focused on Drew. Elle sat beside me, her hands twisting through my hair. She stroked Hannibal, who was tucked up in her lap.

 

“I just still can’t believe it,” she said. “You’re honey coloured again. It’s odd, beautiful but just odd.”

 

“What made you do it?” Kyle asked with a grin. “Go un-native.”

 

“My brothers,” I lied. “We were talking about it, and I thought, why not?”

 

I don’t know why I lied to Elle, I actually have no idea. It felt odd, bitter falling from my mouth, yet still it came. It was an acid taste that I couldn’t seem to evade. I pushed my glasses back up my nose and put a lock of hair behind my ear.

 

“And I was expecting a story,” Kyle huffed. “Twenty one again, I win.”

 

I threw my lousy 18 down on to the carriage seat and smiled at the boy in the corned. “Drew, are you alright?”

 

He nodded after a moment of recognition. “I’m fine, yeah. Just tired.”

 

“You were a happy chappy only an hour ago.”

 

“Yeah, Elle’s right.”

 

As much as I hated to admit it, when Drew was quiet something’s wrong.

 

“Come on, mate.” Kyle pressed. “Fess up.”

 

Elle laughed. “We won’t tell on you, what did you do?”

 

“What did you say?” His roommate asked. “Who did you shag in the loo’s? Come on, we won’t judge”

 

“It’s nothing like that. And Dixie, can I just say that your fat-arsed glasses make you look like a model.”

 

“I’m going to take my fat-arsed glasses off and take that as a compliment.” I complied to my own words. “ But really, Drew-ie? What’s wrong?” I asked nicely. Well, as nice as I could be. “If you don’t want to say, then you don’t have to.”

 

Three heads turned in my direction.

 

Elle was the first to speak. “Did you, like, fall off of a cliff over Christmas or something?”

 

“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’. “Just went through a little self improvement.”

 

“So you’re not going to be stabbing teachers this term, then?” I shook my head. “Damn.” Kyle finished. “That’s my source of entertainment gone. Wha-“

 

“I’ve got a girlfriend!” Drew announced, cutting of any rude comment that Kyle was going to say.

 

Kyle jerked in surprise. “Huh?”

 

“Aww,” Ellie chorused on her own. She threw her arms around Drew’s neck. “We knew it was only a matter of time, didn’t we Dix? I mean, you’re adorable.”

 

“So go on,” I pressed. “What amazing girl to we have to thank for taming the shrew, or boy, we’re not judgmental.”

 

Dew’s eyes narrowed. “Girl. And I’m a shrew?”

 

“A big, fat, ugly, shrew.” Ellie chimed, her arms still not leaving the Beater.

 

“Love, do you want to let go of him?” Kyle asked. “I’m sure that he would like to breathe again.”

 

She retracted instantly, a sheepish smile on her face.

 

I smiled to myself. What girl couldn’t love Drew? If you get past the hard demeanor and the harsh brown eyes, he really was a sweetie. His eye suddenly became warm and pouty and his short sandy hair was ‘in need of a cut’ instead of just ‘uncared for’. The achievement was if the girl got that hat off of his head. I had considered surgically removing it last year. It failed.

 

With another glance over my shoulder I smiled at Kyle and then back to our source of entertainment. “Drew, come on, who is she? Is it a muggle, because that would be very sweet.”

 

“She’s not a muggle.” He said. “Do you remember the party ending last term?” All to well, Drew, all to well. “Do you remember the girl sitting next to me at the strip-monopoly booth?”

 

“Yeah!” Kyle replied breathlessly, maybe just a little too quickly. Insert incredibly piercing glare from overprotective girlfriend. “Erm, I mean … I think so, blonde?”

 

“Brunette,” Drew grinned knowingly.

 

“Lacy white bra and top-hat?” I recalled. “Nice choice, bro.”

 

He nodded and high fived my offering hand with a wink. “She’s a Hufflepuff, Harriet Lochleigh, straight ‘O’ student, isn’t afraid to party and despises Quidditch.” Kyle’s draw dropped. “It’s not all bad; she can stand on the side with Dixie.”

 

“Another to join my lonesome club.” I acknowledged in a monotone.

 

“What about Gabe,” Ellie said with a smile. “It’s always been you and Gabe on the side.”

 

I felt an odd chill come over me at the mention of his name.

 

Kyle snorted. “I actually think that you two should date.” Bad timing, Kyle. “I mean, he is one of the only ones that puts up with you, infact, he actually seems to like your pissy attitude.”

 

“Oh wise one, how these ladies love you.” I practically spat.

 

He didn’t step back. “Come on, he’s the reason that you go to the Quidditch Matches, you want to see Freddy and all, but if Gabe didn’t sit with you, you wouldn’t go. Plus, Fred’s being a dick.”

 

“That’s true,” Ellie said. “I realise that he’s your lad, and shit. But really, Dixie, I wish that you two would make up, without you, he’s not cute anymore. He’s just scary and moody.”

 

“Speak of the devil.” Drew added with a gesture to the door.

 

“Fred?!”

 

It wasn’t.

 

The carriage door slid open and revealed a cheery blonde. “DP, chat?”

 

I stood up and gave a brief goodbye to my friends, slipping my glasses back on as I stood up, without them, I saw double.

 

Gabe and I had written letters over the Christmas holiday, acting as if nothing had happened. I jumped up and threw my arms around his neck in a greeting of hello. He returned it joyfully.

 

“Gabe, Gabe, Gabe.” I bounced happily. “I missed you.”

 

“You too, love.” He said with a cheeky grin. “I was actually just coming to ask you a favor.”

 

“Who do I have to ruffle up?” I asked, curling my hands in to fists and throwing mock punches.

 

He grabbed my hands and held them tightly within his own. “No one, at this point.” I grinned like a child. “I need you to – oh god, how do I say this?”

 

My smiled dropped a little. “Gabe, just say it.”

 

“It’s not,” he stammered. “It’s not tactful.”

 

“Gabriel, I have the same amount of tact as Voldermort, just say it.”

 

“DP,” he shook his head. “I need you to give me the okay.”

 

I knotted a brow and couldn’t help but notice the slight coldness to his tone. “The okay?”

 

“Yeah, you know,” he bit down on his lip. “The okay.”

 

“You want to shag the brunette Ravenclaw from the party that wanted to eat your face, don’t you?”

 

“Merlin, yes.” He exclaimed loudly, speaking as if he were busting for the toilet.

 

“Gabe,” I said quietly, pulling him away from the compartment and down the corridor. “You don’t need to ask me, of course its okay.” I clasped his forearm tightly. “What we did was a mistake, you said it yourself. It was the side-affect of firewhisky.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t want it to not mean anything.” He said automatically, before clapping his hand to his head. “Not like that, I love you DP, but not like that. I just mean that, you’re like my best friend and if it didn’t mean anything, it would just be bad, and I cant-“

 

“Gabe, I get it.”

 

He stopped to take a breath. I laughed.

 

“What?” he asked. “What’s so funny?”

 

“I thought that we were over this period of awkwardness.”

 

“That stopped about half an hour after it,” he said softly. He gave me a small smile and returned to normal. “So, short-arse. You want to raid the sweet trolley?”

 

He stepped aside and I joined him. “Gabe, wait.”

 

I pulled on his robes and yanked him in to a hug. One that he happily returned. One that didn’t happen to be a Dixie-special. But a proper, old, Gabe-special, bear hug. It was a bear hug, one I loved, but not my favorite. I hadn’t had one of them in a long time.

 

Gabe’s hand poked my bottom, I slapped it away.

 

“What?!” he demanded, throwing his arms to a surrender. “It’s nothing that I haven’t done before – oh.”

 

My heart stopped the moment I heard it. As his ‘oh’ made its way in to my brain, every possibility of what could be behind me travelled through. I had imagined the lot, from Malfoy to dragons. Not too much difference.

 

“What?” I asked. “What is i-?”

 

I looked straight in to his dark eyes.

 

Freddy.

 

A ghost of humiliation and slight horror sketched itself on to my face, I didn’t dare look away. I couldn’t seem to. I couldn’t even seem to make myself breathe. This could be the reason for my gradually growing headache and reddening face. Gabe elbows me in the back. I still stayed frozen.

 

I had seen many expressions on Freddy’s face; it wasn’t until this year that I realized just how much I would miss them. His mouth was curved, his eyes were slits. I had seen this face when his mother first grounded him, when he fell from the top of Hagrid’s hut in third year. I had laughed at his expression when he was first rejected, yet, none of it compared to this. His mouth retracted the letters it was about to say.

 

I wished that he would retreat from his position and act like he had seen nor heard anything. I wished that I could hug him, like I had stayed at his house over Christmas – like usual. But I couldn’t. Because I hadn’t been with him at the last party, like usual, I had been with Gabe.

 

Gabe, the boy stood infront of me now, a twisted expression on his face. He knew not to mess with another mans girl, yet he wasn’t. So why was this, the expression that he wore? I knew both of the boys all too well, and neither knew what to do with themselves.

 

I let out the first breath. “How much did you hear?”

 

“Enough,” he replied.

 

In less than a second I had found movement. “Freddy.”

 

“Him, Dix?” He clamped his jaw shut several times. “You and him?”

 

“What’s so wrong with me, Weasley?”

 

I sent Gabe a subtle elbow to the gut. This wasn’t the time for personal wars.

 

He ignored me and watched me with close intent. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. “It didn’t mean anything.”

 

“But King just said-“

 

“I’m a liar,” Gabe retracted. I knew he was doing this for me, and that meant much more than anything else in the world. “Dixie and I were mucking around and we were drunk.”

 

“And you didn’t stop it?!” Fred growled. Practically roaring – minus the volume. I’m not sure if he could manage it.

 

A look of pure disbelief came over my features. Gabe’s seemed to react the same way as he spoke “What like you do?”

 

It was at that moment that time seemed to freeze. Fred looked to me in disgust. I had never uttered a word to Gabe about what happened, but I’m sure that he had guessed. The only person that I had never told was James, no one else. I was sure that Freddy had too, but apparently not. Gabe wasn’t the type to use it against a person.

 

I felt my lungs drop in to my gut, a heavy heart. But what did Freddy have to be angry about?

 

“-Every girl that you meet, you don’t stop it. It’s all fun and games for you.”

 

Freddy almost died with relief, as did I. The Ravenclaw hadn’t meant what we thought. It was an embarrassing time for us both.

 

“You think its fun, King?” Freddy asked, his jaw still clenched. “I don’t need to justify myself to you – why do you do it? Eh? You’re no better than me.”

 

“I’m not better than you?” he echoed. “If I’m not better than you, then why was it me that was with her when Avery made her cry?”

 

“I didn’t cry!”

 

“Yes you did,” he pressed. “It was after the fifth bottle of firewhiskey, he was being a twat all night and finally James came over and pulled you away.”

 

“James was involved in this?” Freddy asked. If anything he sounded hurt.

 

The air stilled slightly as the train turned a bend. I held on to the wall. “Not in the actual deed, no.”

 

“It had nothing to do with Potter,” Gabe lied. I was unable to utter anything. “It was my idea, we just got carried away. If you’re going to be mad, be mad at me. But I don’t really see why.” Christ Gabe! I wanted to shut him up, to tell him to end it, but I couldn’t. “You’ve been nothing but a prat for a long time now, Dixie doesn’t deserve that, lord knows why she has it set in her mind that you’re some kind of hero, because you’re not. A hero doesn’t make his best friend cry.”

 

Freddy took this opportunity to leave. He turned, without another word and left. I had images of me, pounding on the door to the seventh year’s boys’ dorm for hours that night. Again. I wasn’t going to let it happen. With an apologetic smile to Gabe, I chased after Fred.

 

Dodging a small band of third years, I grabbed hold of his arm. He pulled it from my grip, as if I were fire. His hat was coming off of his head, he didn’t’ stop to pull it back down. I looked in to his dark, chocolate eyes, but he didn’t return it. He desperately tried to look anywhere but mine.

 

“I didn’t cry,” I repeated. Why, of all things just mentioned, it was that I felt the need to justify myself on, I have no idea. “I really didn’t.”

 

He pulled his hat back down. “I don’t care if you cried, Dix. Actually I would be proud if you did.”

 

“Well, I didn’t. I don’t cry.”

 

“Alright then,” he finalized. “Can I go now?”

 

He gestured down to his arm. My fingers were gripped so tightly my nails were making indents. When I released my grip a little, he didn’t flinch as my fingers revealed little half-moon indents from my nails.

 

I shook my head. “No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No.” I repeated. “We need to talk about this?”

 

“There is nothing to talk about,” his voice began to rise. “You and Gabe decided to go at it like bunnies, why should I care?”

 

I met him eye to eye. “I don’t know. Why do you?”

 

“I don’t.” I insisted.

 

He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here, as if he wanted to pick up a speed and run from the train.

 

I knocked my glasses back up my nose with my elbow and pulled on his arm. “That’s not what that display just showed.”

 

“Oh, lay off, Dixie.”

 

I clamped my jaw shut and we fell silent.

 

I felt a hollowness in my body as I tried to look at him. What if that mistake made me loose Freddy? It was something that I didn’t regret, not really, but Fred didn’t’ seem to like it. I knew that he loves me, cares for me, so why doesn’t he just admit it.

 

As the train gave an unexpected jerk, I fell forward a little, catching my balance on the nearest door handle. Freddy didn’t budge. I looked up another time to finally meet his eyes. He was staring at me with the most odd expression.

 

He looked like he had all year, red tie hung loosely from his neck, sweater vest pullover, pulled over his crinkled oxford shirt. His black hair was cropped short, invisible under his red beanie. There was no smirk on his lips.

 

“I miss you,” the words left my lips before I had control to stop them. He had been the only person that was at my backend call, selfish, I know. But I love him. I always have, ever since he pushed me in that damned lake when we were eleven and charmed the creatures to chase after me. “You’re my guy, Fred.”

 

I could feel my heart beat wildly as I said my second line. Freddy was possibly the last person that I wanted to se me like this, vulnerable, apologetic and exposed.  It felt unreasonable for me to apologize to him, yes I could, but it didn’t feel right; I had nothing to justify.

 

I prepared myself for a smirk, a smile or something. I didn’t get one.

 

“What about Gabe?”

 

“He’s my best-boy friend.” I admitted, he took a step back and glared at me. “Oh come on Freddy. You mean more to me than that, you know it.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

“You don’t like what?” I asked. “Shall I get a quill and parchment and make a list?”

 

His jaw seems to lock again. “Him, Dixie. I don’t like him, or anything about ‘him’.”

 

“You don’t like me beings friends with him?” my lips involuntarily twitched with disbelief. “That’s crazy Fred; next you’ll be telling me that you don’t want me to be friends with Kyle, or James.”

 

His eyes were filled with a mist of childlike innocence. And that ticked me off. “Well, now we’re actually on the subject, I’d rather that you stayed away from James.” My jaw dropped. “He went to see you over the holidays-“

 

“Yes, I recall.” I interrupted bitterly.

 

He rolled his eyes. “And he came back angry, he was so upset. You seem to leave happy people sad.”

 

“Thank you, Fred.” I mocked. “You’ve just given me a tag line, shall I get badges made?”

 

“See, this is what I mean?”

 

“What exactly are we arguing about here?” I hissed, ignoring the whispers that came from the carriages either side of us.

 

“We’re not arguing,” he replied.

 

I let go of his arm and felt a sudden sense of abandonment. “Funny way of showing it.”

 

“Grow up.”

 

I snorted. “Say’s the guy who won’t take the beanie off of his head.”

 

I couldn’t believe that there was a point in my life I felt that he was sweet.

 

“Dixie you always blow up at me, no, not just at me, at everyone!”

 

I felt ready to explode, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to back his theory’s. Instead I a took a deep breath. “No one is ‘blowing up’,” I mimicked his voice. “I am merely expressing how much I think that James needed to get knocked off of his pedestal.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” He challenged. “Then what did he say?”

 

I wished that I had bit my tongue. “He told me that I was only friends with you for the idea of sex privileges.”

 

“He what?!”

 

I clamped my hand up over his mouth. “Don’t blow up at me Fred.” His eyes got darker. “I was merely answering your question. I didn’t shout, I merely defended myself – which let’s face it, is an insult of its own.”

 

“And you really said nothing to him? Nothing that was horrid?”

 

“Horrid?” I echoed. “Oh, yeah, that’s a charm. Thanks Freddo.”

 

“You called me Freddo.”

 

I nodded. “It’s your name, would you rather I called you Billy, or Jude?”

 

“Enough with the sarcasm.” I raised a brow in apology.

 

He made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. I was ready to turn on my heel and storm away from him. I had been doing that too much. I stood my ground.

 

“Look, Dixie.” He seemed lost for words. He settled for four words. Four words that made my heart stop for a moment. “I missed you too.”

 

I waited for a reply to come from my mouth but nothing came.

 

He resumed. “James had no right saying that to you. None of it is true. I don’t like not seeing you; I don’t like seeing you with brown hair and glasses – which makes you look beautiful, by the way – and not knowing the reason behind it.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t like, not being near you.”

 

My hands fell down to my sides. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t like it either.” I said fittingly.

 

I wondered what would happen from here. Would we go back to normal, me being the best friend and ignoring my feelings, having to watch him parade around with a girl on his arm each day. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it.

 

Charisma watched James for almost a year before she got him to realize that she loved him. She also managed to do it while he still had a girlfriend. For me, it has been almost a seven year attempt, each year not getting any closer, if anything, this year I got further away. This year, my plan went to pot. Notice I refer to a ‘plan’. I don’t have one. My plan is to wing it.

 

Look where that’s got me.

 

I took this, most inappropriate of times, to, for the first time, to think of one. A three step one, it’s what they always do in the films, three steps to get what you want.

 

1)    Befriend Freddy, get him to forgive me.

2)    Make Gabe and Freddy tolerate each other, not friends, just tolerative.

3)    Buy a cupcake

 

So my third step wasn’t all that important, but a cake-ie mixture seemed incredibly appealing to me in this state of mind frame, threatening to be permanent. It wasn’t full proof; I didn’t even know how to achieve them, yet still it seemed like two impossible tasks. For the third, I could just find the trolley.

 

“Dixie,” he asked, it seemed we were in the middle of a conversation. “You just spaced out.”

 

I looked up. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” he replied. “I miss your spacy-ness.”

 

“Is that even a word?”

 

He shrugged. “Probably not. But does it really matter; I believe you’re the queen of inventing random words.”

 

“Well, maybe not the queen,” I said abashed and waved it airily away. “Just second in line to the throne.”

 

Freddy snorted. “So modest.”

 

“So kind.” I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, hoping that he couldn’t see my inner heart-deprived pain. “Freddy. I’m really sorry.”

 

“Sorry,” he raised a brow. “For what?”

 

A shrug. “Everything. I should have listened to you, I should have heard you out – that way, we could have been gallivanting around like a couple of idiots instead of arguing all this time.”

 

He raised a brow and looked somewhat excited. “I don’t know what’s better, the fact that you just said gallivanting or the fact that you apologized.”

 

“Drop it.”

 

“Someone, get me a tape recorder!” he shouted. He then raised and pointed a finger to a small first year. “You! Get me something to record on! I don’t care what!”

 

“Fred, I’m warning you!”

 

“Give me one minute, really.” He reassured. “This will never happen again; I just need to – oomph. Was there really a need to punch me?”

 

I nodded and pulled my arm back from his gut. “A great, dire, desperate need. What, too dramatic?”

 

I fought the urge to push over a third year as he ran past me and looked back to a smiling Freddy.

 

The grin quickly dropped. “Are you going to go back to Gabe?”

 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

 

“Gabriel Harris. Are you and him…” he trailed off.

 

“Fredrick, lord no!” He looked a little astonished at my outburst. “I thought that I had just covered this with you. Gabe is like my best friend. I couldn’t come to your Quidditch matches without his company. Hell, I probably wouldn’t pass my classes without him. I would never date him.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Good?”

 

“Good.”

 

I raised a brow. “I don’t know why I’m the one reassuring you; you’re the one of our pairing who is more likely to run off with a little blonde. You’d leave me standing for a pair of great legs.”

 

“You have absolutely no idea just how wrong you are, Dixie.”

 

My eyes fluttered back up to his. “So you wouldn’t leave me right now, if a bombshell strolled past.”

 

“Not for the world.” His arms crossed against the cabin.

 

As if to demonstrate my point, a perfect specimen of woman casually passed, a little too much swing in her hips, bounce in her step. Her brunette locks were pulled over her shoulder and clipped with little diamonds. Damn rich people.

 

Freddy just watched her go.

 

“Good timing.” I muttered.

 

His nonchalant glance turned back to me. “Come here,” He muttered, back still against the carriage window (curtained). His arm reached out.

 

“What?”

 

“Come here,” he ordered, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him.

 

His arms came hard around my shoulders, clenching me momentarily from oxygen. I clicked my tongue to my teeth and smiled at the feeling. I missed everything about him, a lot. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized just how much.

 

I pulled away slowly, waiting for his arms to release me, they never did. Instead he grabbed hold of my wrists and pulled me close.

 

I shook my head. “Freddy, what are you-?”

 

Confusion wasn’t the word that I could use to describe my freelance emotions as his lips pressed ever so feverishly upon mine. He made no pressure, only the touch.

 

It was only the one, the one movement before he pulled away once more.

 

It hurt.

 

“I can’t,” I shook my head. “I can’t do it.”

 

“What?”

 

Why could I not just accept it? Anyone else would have. I ignored that little voice in my head that reminded me that ‘I’m not just anyone’, I’m different, a hot-head, sarcastic imbecile with a passion for causing trouble.

 

“I can’t piss around with you,” I breathed, trying to pull away. It was a no-go. “I can’t just kiss you like that, for it not to mean anything, it hurts me too much. You know that. It was unfair of you to do that. You don’t kiss your friends like that. It’s not righ-“

 

“I didn’t want it to mean nothing.” he interjected. “I guess it took the both of us to break before I realized just how much I need you.”

 

I shook my head in disbelief. “What are you saying?”

 

“I see it when you look at me, the care. It’s the same way that Charisma looked at James.” Oh fuck. “I may be dim and stuff, but I’m good at reading people, I always have been. I know that after last Christmas, you never stopped liking me. I never stopped liking you.”

 

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. It was a struggle.

 

He shrugged. “I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know how to do the whole dating lark; I am not a good boyfriend. I’m not good for you.”

 

I knew that he wasn’t. He was impolite at the best of times, a complete idiot and a trouble maker. That’s not including being known as possibly the biggest player in Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. But then again, he was caring, sweet – and he had a dimple. I love him because of all those things, not because of his name.

 

“What if I don’t care?” I asked. “What if I’ve never cared.”

 

He licked him bottom lip quickly in thought. “Then I would say that you have officially lost the plot.”

 

I felt drunk with happiness. I whispered, “Then call me crazy.”

 

His hands trailed fire on my bare skin as his grip held me lightly and my heart pounded through my chest as his lips fought against mine.










 

An; Another chapter? :L Wow, these updates seem to be flying past – only two chapters left after this one, and then the entire thing is done. It means to completion of Wolfsbane and of Seven :( but thank you all for staying with me for this long!

 

What are you opinions on James, was in right? Was he wrong? Was he out of line, or in it? :L Well, that made no sense but hopefully you know where I’m going with it!

And Freddy. Lovely, lovely Fred. He’s back, and he’s here to stay! Can I get a ‘Whoop Whoop’?!

What’s that? You want Avery, not Fred. Oh. Sorry. :(

:D But still, for those of you that still hold your banners high for Dixie and Fred, there it was, the big moment that you’ve (hopefully) been waiting for.

And Gabe?! Freddy found out! :O But he’s not really an angry guy, so he didn’t’ really shout.

And Drew! :O He’s finally got a girlfriend, I’m sorry to those of you that are upset with this – but think of it this way … he needs someone to love him! He’s a lovable guy!

 

I will update soon with the next chapter! It’s the return of the wonderful St Barnabus!

 

“Gabe, you’re eye, is black.”

 

“Now that’s not very nice,” he cooed. “The other eye is jealous. Besides, the best medicine is to not mention it, you don’t have to point I out every ti-“

 

“Gabe, for Merlins sake, what happened?”

 

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t concern you.”

 

I raised a brow. “Gabriel, I can make your other one match.”

 

“Oh bloody hell,” he sighed. “Just because I know that you will actually hit me, and it will hurt more than this one I received, I will tell you. I got in to a fight. But, before you get yourself all sick with worry – don’t deny it, love, I know that you will – you should see the other guy.”

 

“Why?” I asked crossly. “What does he look like?”

 

“Oh he’s fine,” he answered quickly, a teasing flash in his irises. “There isn’t a spot on him. I didn’t hit him – that’s what I meant, you should see the other guy. I am a pathetic excuse for a man against a Quidditch Player.”

 

A long preview there. Whoopsy.

I love Gabe, and I couldn’t not write this scene.

It seemed that Kellan, Archie and Nick were a hit – you’ll love the last chapter then I hope, they’re all featured.

I hope you like the rest (and leave me a little review :L)


Chapter 12: Learning to walk is as hard as wearing big-boy pants at only a few months old
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Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
Gabriel King and Freddy Weasley.




 Taking it to an entirely new level, the wind decided to battle against the rain. For hours it was only a fight, a mild argument between the two. It wasn’t until classes finished for the day and dinner had passed that they decided to start a war.

 

Pellets of rain collided with the brick of the castle, making the loud inside seem quiet. It sounded like bullets, cannons. It was a weapon - a weapon of the unbeatable kind.

 

A howling gale sped around the castle, taking loose leaves and branches from the forest in its wake. The wind could have sounded like a monster; no one really knows just quite what is in the forest, with the exception of the oaf Hagrid. Oh Circe, what I would give to shave off his beard.

 

Give it up for January weather. It’s the first day back, and we are graced with only the finest from Mother Nature; a storm. I waited for the lightening to hit. If it hits the Astronomy Tower just right, it echoes right through to the dungeons below. It’s loud enough to wake the castle but quiet enough to only disturb Hogsmeade from its nightly antics.

 

I stood at the top of the stairs and looked out of the dusty window. I couldn’t reach it with my hand, not if I went on my tippy toes and reached up with all of my might. But you didn’t need to be tall to see the dust. Charisma had once told me that it was Ghost residue, when they come through the windows they leave behind a little of themselves. We were in forth year, back then, she was wack.

 

I turned to my left, away from the storming window – the weather that I actually appreciated, and came face to face with a painting. If anything, it seemed to have shuffled closer to me along the wall.

 

“Good evening St Barnabas.” I greeted.

 

He nodded eagerly and smiled. “Miss Pruitt, how are you this fine evening?”

 

“As well as a person could be,” I admitted truthfully. “And you?”

 

Barny the Barmy. A part of me adore the guy, another egged me on to rip up his tapestry with whatever I could get my hands on, the sharper the better.

 

St Barnabas shook his head. “Not too good, I’m afraid. Christmas was an absolute travesty; the Bloody Baron decided to move some of the paintings around while they slept. It took the boarding Professors all of Christmas day to return them to their normal places.” I resisted the urge to snort. “And now it’s a storm, the wall to my tapestry seems to be a prime spot for thunder; the trolls are out of control!”

 

Still resisting the urge to speak and incredibly irresponsible and unorthodox response, I folded my arms across my chest. “Hence you shaking up with Lil’ Bo Peep?”

 

“Wha-“ his head turned to a light blue oiled girl, pink frills on a large blue petticoat-ed dress. Her arms were crossed and her stick held defensively. She swung it to protect her sheep from the man, almost taking out an eye in the process. “Oh lord. This isn’t going to end well.”

 

Obviously recalling their last disastrous encounter which ended with his frumpy trolls trampling through the delightful painting of the country and consequently squashing three of Peep’s sheep, Barny was rather scared - rightfully so in my overestimated opinion.

 

“Barny,” I asked snappily. “Where are your trolls?”

 

He looked between me and the stick wielding woman. “Errm, I set them on Sir Cadogan.”

 

“You what?!”

 

“Sir Cadogan,” he repeated. “That schmuck said that I couldn’t handle my own trolls; them obeying my orders had better show him.”

 

If anything, he seemed rather pleased with himself.

 

“Is that why there is one on the forth floor?” Asked a recognizable voice from behind. “It’s in the tapestry with the picture of that blonde broad.”

 

“You mean Helga Hufflepuff?” I asked, turning to the blonde I had seen only the day before. But this wasn’t the same boy. He wasn’t in the condition that I left him. “Oh my Merlin, Gabe!”

 

His wide blue eyes were not of their usual brightness, with his right eye abnormally bruised. His high cheekbones seemed suddenly a little uneven, the affected being bigger than the left. It had swollen.

 

The skin around the eye was blackening, a streak of yellowing blue between the lid of his eye and his light brow.

 

He bit down on his lip. “Don’t freak.”

 

I simply held my jaw open.

 

“Goodnight all.” St Barnabas fare welled, seemingly unaffected by Gabe’s arrival.

 

Gabriel brushed a fallen lock of hair from his eyes. “DP, are you alright?”

 

“Me?” I echoed, no louder than a hissed breath. “Gabe, you’re eye, is black.”

 

“Now that’s not very nice,” he cooed. “The other eye is jealous. Besides, the best medicine is to not mention it, you don’t have to point I out every ti-“

 

“Gabe, for Merlins sake, what happened?”

 

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t concern you.”

 

I raised a brow. “Gabriel, I can make your other one match.”

 

“Oh bloody hell,” he sighed. “Just because I know that you will actually hit me, and it will hurt more than this one I received, I will tell you. I got in to a fight. But, before you get yourself all sick with worry – don’t deny it, love, I know that you will – you should see the other guy.”

 

“Why?” I asked crossly. “What does he look like?”

 

“Oh he’s fine,” he answered quickly, a teasing flash in his irises. “There isn’t a spot on him. I didn’t hit him – that’s what I meant, you should see the other guy. I am a pathetic excuse for a man against a Quidditch Player.”

 

“Then you should have taken up Quidditch.”

 

“Ditto.”

 

I waved the subject airily away with my hand. “Point taken.” It was a second before I realized quite just what he had said. My hands shot to my hips in a pose that I hadn’t accumulated in quite a white, my hip popped out to the side and with a simply puff I blew my hair from my eyes. “Your attacker is a Quidditch Player?”

 

“Oh, Dix, I wouldn’t call him an attacker.”

 

I raised a brow irately. “Gabe, have you seen your face?”

 

“It’s not that bad – shockingly, I’ve actually had worse.” He walked to stand next to me. “It was one punch to the eye-area … and also a leg lock hex, but that was only because I performed a bogey bat hex on the guy.”

 

“Why are you defending him?” I asked utterly perplexed.

 

He shrugged. “Because he was doing it for a good reason.”

 

“You did something with his girlfriend didn’t you?”

 

Gabe shook his head, his blonde hair shaking with it – it needed a cut. “Nope. He was just a rather disgruntled Quidditch Player.”

 

I sighed and folded my arms across my chest, letting Gabriel wrap his arms around me like Nick used to. He rested his chin upon my messy haired head.

 

“Why do you always play with the big kids?” I questioned still a little bewildered.

 

He shrugged once more. “It’s more fun that way – play in the big leagues.”

 

“That’s like wearing big-boy-pants at only a few months old.”

 

“I did that too.”

 

I simply let out a long breath and stepped back from the boy infront of me. I poked his bruise and he flinched away. “Sorry!”

 

“Merlin, DP.” He cussed. “I may be a big boy, but I’m no Quidditch player that you’re so used to hanging out with.”

 

“And what does that translate to?”

 

“Massive wuss.” He said, as if speaking to a toddler. “Just please don’t poke it again.” I snorted at the possible innuendo that he had created. “Grow up.”

 

I winked. “Never.”

 

“You’ll be like Peter Pan.”

 

“That forth year guy?”

 

If anything, Gabe’s swollen eye got bigger. “No, Peter Pan, the story – please tell me that you have heard of it.” I shook my head. “We need to get you to a library.”

 

“No!” I swore, stamping my foot as I stood my ground. He would never take me alive! “No! Not the library, anything but that. I will get Freddy on you!”

 

“That’s right; you two are together now aren’t you.” I nodded as an answer. “Just be careful, DP.”

 

“Advice taken.”

 

“Good, because I don’t want to have to give him the speech on how to take care of you.”

 

“Because you’ve done such a good job of it.”

 

He nodded. “Actually, dear, I believe that I have.”

 

A smack to the shoulder did the trick. He deserved a lot more; however the mystery bruiser seemed to have dealt with the damage for me. I considered thanking him.

 

“Gabe,” I began, he looked at me as we began to descend the stairs. A bolt of lightening flashed outside the windows. “Who hit you?”

 

Ahh,” he replied. “I wondered when this question would come.”

 

I screwed up my face. “Don’t go all cryptic on me, boy. Just tell me who hit you?”

 

“Are you going to hit them?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh,” he pondered. “Well, I’m still not telling you.”

 

I reached out for his bicep muscle, strangely toned for someone who dislikes sport and twisted the skin that I could grab. He almost yelped. “Tell me?!”

 

“No!”

 

“Gabriel!”

 

“Dixie! I am not going to tell you,” He mused.

 

I shook my head. “You’ll give in.”

 

“Not likely,” he replied. “I’m going to be careful; I’m not going to slip up.”

 

“You will,” I insisted. “You always do.”

 

And then I’m going to hurt them. You don’t mess with my circle of care.

 









 

As it turns out, I was right. Gabe was going to slip up. He slipped up big.

 

We sat in the kitchens, not long after my run in with St Barnabas. The thunder still rattled the castle, the rain still sounded like bullets – even more so when we were underneath the castle.

 

I stirred my tea with a harsh swirl of the cup, a contrast to the delicate spoon that Gabe twisted between his fingers. I had teased him greatly on his manly-hood. I mentioned everything from his choice of tea to the reality that he should be sat with a stake on his eye.

 

He refused to get it healed by the school Healer, Madame Brandon. He wanted the girls to see his battle wound.

 

Prat.

 

It took him no more than half an hour to slip up, for the words to tumble from his mouth. Inside, I knew it. I knew that I knew it. I just didn’t want to even think it.

 

I suddenly felt no love for ‘That stupid Gryffindor that punched me in the face’ – the heartfelt words of the one and only Gabriel King. It was at that moment that he smacked his hand to his mouth and looked around shamefully.

 

Within seven minutes I had sped to the other side of the castle, knocking over too many small children to count as they got in my way. It felt good to be back.

 

Storming up to the first floor of the castle, I made it to the back doors – near the Quidditch Pitch. The thunder rumbled around me. It seemed appropriate for my mood.

 

He promised me he wouldn’t do this.

 

It was a storm. Good practice, James would say. At the beginning of this year, he decided that the bad weather would be a good training exercise. I personally thought that he was giving sacrifices to Mother Nature, and possibly himself a heart attack. He simply considered it a blessing to be given the storm.

 

I spared a glance out of the window. It had just surpassed the stage of complete and utter hopelessness. By the rules of the school, the team would have to have had return in about twenty minutes ago – but since when did James ever abide by the rules.

 

I discovered, that this once. He happened to.

 

My speed walking had lost Gabe about four minutes ago. He followed me in a rut, jumping over the children that I pushed. I was the beast and he was my minion. Too fairytale-dramatic? Probably. True? Fortunately.

 

I approached the boys changing rooms with my finger ready to prod. My cynical outlook on life was returning, and my boyfriend was about to experience a bloody death!

 

Turning the large iron knob nails in to the wood, I pushed the door open without so much as a ‘hello?!’ The pondered it on the way here, the worst that I could see it Drew in his tidey-widies. I was suddenly fortunate that our Quidditch Team, with the exception of one, was made up of our Seventh Year friends. I still think that James rigged it.

 

I made no shouting noise.

 

No screech nor yell.

 

No hiss.

 

And that could be what surprised Freddy the most as I approached him.

 

He stood infront of his locker, pulling a white shirt from it and pulling it over his torso. For once, I didn’t care what it looked like. He looked at me, a deer caught in headlights. But his expression wasn’t one of guilt; it was amusement – then concern upon noticing my expression.

 

“Dixie, love.” He asked. “What’s wrong?”

 

Kyle and Drew were no where in sight, but the showers were running and two blokes were singing. I put two and two together. I sent a quick prayer to Merlin that it would only be James, one witness for when I kill Fred.

 

The said boy sat on the benches that were placed down the middle of the room, his elbows rested on his knees. Fully clothed.

 

I raised a brow. “You promised me.”

 

“Oh Circe,” he swore. “What have I done now?” he rested back, leaning his shoulder blades on the lockers.

 

“You said that you wouldn’t hurt Gabe.”

 

“And I haven’t.” He stated, a little defensively. “It pains me to say it. But I haven’t laid a hand on the bugger.”

 

“Then why is he sporting a black eye?” I pressed.

 

If anything, Freddy laughed. With a knowing look to James - who didn’t smile, he didn’t even look up – he turned back to me. “Maybe because he’s a tosser?” He tried. “Someone beat me to it?”

 

“That’s my friend you’re talking about,” I rounded. “I don’t stand for it when people talk like that about you, so I’m not going to let it slide when you talk like that about anyone else.”

 

“And because it’s Gabe?” James questioned, finally looking up from the floor.

 

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Oh sweet Merlin, Dixie.” James muttered, standing up from the bench as if it were a hardship. “You have no limits when it comes to the three of us, me, Gabe and especially Freddy – if anyone said a bad word you would pin them to the floor and damn them to hell.”

 

“Yes I would,” I said. “You guys mean the world to me. I would destroy anyone that tried to say otherwise.”

 

He nodded. “Well, we would do the same.”

 

“I don’t, I don’t understand.”

 

Freddy’s arms were suddenly folded, his back still against the lockers, but he had edged closer to me. James stood closer to Freddy, around the other bench, black hair falling in his eyes.

 

“You never do,” James stated. “You are blind to the things that actually matter, Dixie! Gabe was wrong to let things get so far-“

 

“You!” I accused. “You hurt Gabe?!”

 

“Yeah, I would do it again!”

 

I scoffed. “Oh, sorry master supervillan shall I get you a cape for the next time that you say that? Oh wait, do it again and this time dribble some blood from your mouth and rattle come chains.”

 

“Hang on,” Freddy intercepted. “You told James before you told me?”

 

“James saw me at Christmas,” I said, still not raising my voice. I considered this a win if it were based on only that factor. “He bullied it out of me. No to the subject change.”

 

“Yes to the subject change.” James turned to his best friend and cousin. “Nick owled me, told me to get her from her room. She was broken Freddy.”

 

“Gabe did that to her?”

 

The raven haired boy ansered for me. “Yeah, I’m not going to let her get hurt because of some stupid mistake.”

 

“Wait a secon-“

 

“How many eyes did you blacken?” Freddy questioned.

 

“Just the one.”

 

“I call dibs on the other!”

 

I caught the two by their shirts and pulled them still, as I let go, creases formed in the fabric. “Gabe didn’t do that to me, Freddy, you did!”

 

It was a moment before anyone in the room realized quite what I had just said. I smacked my hand to my mouth and gasped. I had never, not in a million years, ever meant to say that out loud. There would be more than one consequence.

 

Not only would I feel embarrassed, mortified even, I wouldn’t just be hurting myself. This was something that happened to be executed right infront of me. Fred’s glossy eyes turned from a warm chocolate colour to a darker brown, a hurt expression.

 

My sleeves were pulled down, thankfully covering my trembling hands. I reached forward to touch Freddy’s shoulder but he pulled away.

 

“Maybe I’ll just go.” James muttered quietly, gesturing towards the door.

 

My eyes didn’t tare away from Freddy’s for a moment. It seemed impossible that they could.

 

“You’re not forgiven, Potter,” I warned. “I’ll get you later.”

 

I don’t know if he left straight away, or whether he went to get the two lads from the shower block before he left, either way, he was gone and the singing had stopped. For a moment, as I stood in the silence of the Changing Rooms, I wished for the cheery rendition of ‘Mamma Mia’ to return.

 

The thunder that rolled had become another part of the scene before me. This time, its cry was for a different pain.

 

“Fred, I didn’t mean-“

 

“Yes you did,” he interrupted. It was a habit that I hoped he wasn’t adapting to. “Did I really do that? Did I really hurt you?”

 

I stifled retracting my sentence, lying to him and telling him that I was fine.

 

But he wouldn’t believe me.

 

He was my Freddy – he always has been.

 

And he could read me like a book.

 

I gave a jerky nod, so strained it was almost robotic, a small motion. “A little.”

 

I expected many reactions from Freddy, he could walk away, never look at me again. He could say sorry – a rare, but recently a reoccurring happening – he could blink and smile. But what he did meant so much more.

 

He reached forward, pulling himself away from the lockers and sighed, his lips pierced together tightly. Grabbing hold of my shoulders he pulled me tightly in to his embrace, resting his chin on to the top of my hair, soon after burying his face in to the mess of my knotty honey strands.

 

“I promise, to never hurt you again.”

 

And to me, that was one hundred times better than an apology.

 









AN; A little soppy, I admit! Please put down your rocks and pitch forks, Dixie and Fred will still fight until the cows come home (I love that saying) but they’re just taking some time out to be touchy and lovey-dovey and shit.

 

What did you think of this chapter?! :L Gabe is his eye-wound, James and his making of the eye-wound and Freddy and his not making of the eye-wound? (Hopefully that made sense to you). And Barny? I love Barny!

 

The next chapter will be the last of seven :’(. Sniff.

It seems so long ago that I started all of this and now to have it coming to an end.

 

Thank you to all those who have stuck by this so far. I couldn’t sit here and write out names; there would be too many to write.

This time I shall leave you with no preview, but simply this;

The next chapter will be set months in their future, where everyone has an ending or at least an ambiguous one for some.

All characters will have a future that I feel is right for them (if any of you would like to take a guess, I will have no objection :L).

 

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and the story so far! Thank you! 


Chapter 13: Youíve Got To Love The Irony On That Woman
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 AN: Here it is, the last chapter of Seven! Which could also mean, for some of you, the last of Charisma and James’ story too. I have tried to add them in to this as I thought that they needed a proper ending. I hope people are happy with it.Please don’t forget to leave a review.

I was originally going to have this ending with Dixie accidentally stabbing a passing Professor Flint with something, a some-things-never-change ordeal, but I liked this one more. 




 

Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. (Who has, by a matter of fact, made images for the entire story :L)
Dixie Pruitt






“Dixie,” I hear my brother coo. “DP, wake up!” I rolled away and pulled a pillow over my head; next to follow was the duvet. “Woman, Freddy just owled for a ten minute warning. Unless you want him to see you looking like an orc, get up.”

 

This order was partnered with a hard tug on my duvet, leaving me cold as Nick dumped it on the floor. I took this opportunity to roll out of bed and pad to the bathroom, a light glare to the brother. The room was already occupied.

 

Kellan shot me a toothpaste-y grin from the sink and handed me my toothbrush. After all of the trouble they had caused for the Ministry, somehow the both of them had managed to land themselves jobs. With Kellan worked in the Department of Law Enforcement (yes, we were stumped too) Archie works with the public, a press advisor. He has direct links to the daily Prophet.

 

Whoever granted them that amount of power is on crack, and unless their boss is a patient in St Mungo’s, I am stumped as to how they got these jobs.

 

Nick suggested a hostage situation.

 

He left the house that night with blue skin and green hair.

 

I brushed across my teeth with my green tooth brush, the paste foaming up in my mouth.

 

Kellan snorted. “You look like you have rabies.”

 

I let my mouth hang open a little before I thrust his tooth brush deeper in to his mouth. He choked for a moment and then shut up.

 

It had somehow reached October in a flash. Hogwarts and finished in July, and somehow, I managed to not only finish school, but get half decent results. These results and my keen eye for stars managed to land me a job at an Astronomy centre in Scotland. I Apperate there three times a week and analyze the meaning behind the movements. I get to combine the two, the science and the magic.

 

Nicholas had seen it pointless for me to move out, on that note, so did I. The flat was big enough for the four of us, not that I had a problem with sharing with the three boys; I had grown up with the tossers – when with them, I sadly considered myself part male, but it would be nice to have personal space. Oh whatever, let’s face it, they’re scared of me, I get that desired space with a glance at the trio. But that’s not the thing that bothers me about living here.

 

Ellie and Kyle had been separated for a total of five weeks; they both had different aspirations. Almost every other night my slim brunette friend would be lying on my couch in tears over an argument between the two. Shockingly it was Nick that she found the most comforting.

 

She came to me first, crying on my shoulder and expecting a hug. I felt obliged to give her one, before calling over our blonde, wolfy, companion and handing her over. I can’t be dealing with crying. I’m not good. I seize up. But when Charisma wasn’t able to come, it was another who felt her pain – as he liked to refer to it.

 

Nicholas took to her quite quickly, while her tears dried up, she sat in silence, staring at the fire as I had done all those months ago, he couldn’t help but look at her frequently one day. It wasn’t as discrete as he liked to think. After she and Kyle had called it quits, she still came around here, even when I was out, still she does this. When things happen here everybody knows it. The walls are thin and the twins gossip. ‘They’re just jumping on the bed’, I had told Kellan and Arch.

 

I refuse to believe that anything is going on.

 

I refuse.

 

I spit in the sink and rinsed my mouth out, flicking the water droplet on my fingers towards my brother, now spraying a dirty shirt with deodorant. No matter how many times you tell him it doesn’t work, he persists.

 

Charisma and James are getting married in January, at this point, no one was surprised. No one even bothered feigned shock when they told us. To go back two or three years ago and tell us this, yes, the ides would have been utterly unorthodox, but now – just do the deed and move on. Already they have a house, its a little country bungalow with a loft extension.

 

It has a little white picket fence.

 

Kyle and I found this too cliché, upon the first visit we uprooted it, much to James’s annoyance. With a flick of his wand, it was re-set. Charisma found the whole ordeal rather amusing. The success of their relationship wasn’t a shock, it was just expected. While they thrived, Ellie’s failed, Freddy and I stayed at a mutual point.

 

We may as well live at James’s on occasion, spending a week there at a time – it was like we were still at school. We all miss the old castle, no one would say it; it doesn’t need to be said. Everything seemed so simple there, thinking back.











Back then, seeing Gabe was a daily occurrence, now I saw him weekly if I was lucky. He got an internship at the Daily Prophet, if he can complete a year with a boss from hell, he can get any job do to with press and advertising that he wanted. But he’s struggling. Let along that it pays nothing. He works evenings at the Leaky Cauldron, to get a little bit on cash – he’s a busy, busy bee.

 

The twins took quickly to him; he uses our sofa as a bed on day’s he can’t take any more of his mother’s nagging. Archie was a little weary at first, only to bond with the bloke after Gabe accidentally set fire to my shoes.


I picked up Hannibal, now a hissing fluff-ball, after pulling on my shirt. I threw the cat over my shoulder like a baby, it didn’t cry like it used to. It was as stubborn as I, yet it accepted this spurt of affection. I did the zip up on my shorts and tucked in my t-shirt, leaving my hair in disarray.

“Nick,” I called frantically. “Have you seen my glasses?” If the ten minute warning owl from Freddy was seven minutes ago, I only had three to find those buggers.

 

My bedroom door opened and a pair of thick black frames were thrown at my figure. The light brunette leant on the frame with his hair no better than mine. “You really ought to keep them safer – put them in a place where you remember.”

 

I screwed up my face and adjusted the cat. “Why would I do that? You always know where they are.”

 

“That’s because you give them to me before you go to sleep.”

 

I accepted this and moved past him in to the living room.

 

“Arch,” I asked as I past the open kitchen. “Can you get me a coffee?”

 

He looked puzzled. “Why me?”

 

I felt Nick brush past me now, entering the kitchen. I shook my head, where were his manners? “Because you’re standing right next to the machine.”

 

Archie looked from the machine to me. He looked guilty. In one swift motion he pushed it to the floor. “What coffee machine? We don’t have a coffee machine.”

 

“Yes we do,” I rounded, still looking at him, not the mess of muggle machinery now on the tiled floor. “It was the first thing that we bought, Nick got it before the sofas because he could sit on the floor but he couldn’t live without coffee.”

 

Nick sat on the counter, arms folded. “I guess I’m going to have to try.”

 

“Can’t you just fix it with magic?” I asked.

 

He shook his head. Archie made no attempt of escaping. “Well, unless simple household spells can fix metal and plastic that it now bubbling up in acid, I think it’s screwed. I don’t want to know the liquid that was in it.”

 

“Do I even want to look at it?” I muttered to Arch.

 

He shook his head, now holding his hair cropped short. “Nope.”

 

I raised a brow. “And you work for the Ministry?”

 

“Technically yes, but not willingly – they just sign my pay cheque.”

 

“And putting acid in to the coffee machine this morning felt like a good idea because…?”

 

His blue eyes flashed bright. “It’s not acid.”

 

“Then why is it melting.”

 

“That’s why I knocked it on to the floor.”

 

I shook my head. “How would that solve anything?”

 

“In the same way that you would drop your cat on to the floor if it scratched you.”

 

“That makes no sense.”

 

“Ahh, but you see,” he taunted. “Life makes no sense.”

 

Nick cleared his throat, still mourning the loss of his pride and joy. “One minute Dixie – Freddy’s always a little early. Oh and Mum owled yesterday,” he added. My 180 degree turn from the kitchen turned to a 360 as he said this. “She remembered that Dixie finished Hogwarts, she wants to come home and say well done.”

 

“That I finished?” I questioned. “She’s got high hopes.”

 

Archie shrugged. “Well at least she remembered. She still thinks that Kell and I are fifteen.”

 

“You’ve been fifteen every year for ten years.”

 

He nodded at Nick’s statement. “You’ve got to the love the irony on that woman.”

 

“You can tell her that I said hello, but make me seem busy.” I added. “I don’t want to see the neurotic beast after its hibernation.”

 

For the seventeen years of my life that I have lived, the only child that mother continually remembers has been Josiah – he’s lovely, don’t get me wrong. But he’s an over achiever. He isn’t a hot-head, he doesn’t shout, and he abides by every rule ever written.

 

The rest of us consider the rules to be more, guidelines than anything else.

 

Nick nodded. “I’m not writing back, Arch can do it this time.”

 

“But I owled her last month!”

 

“That was to say thank you for your birthday card that states you love being fifteen and you look forward to being it next year!” I snapped.

 

Kellan arose, coughing, from the bathroom, a waft of deodorant coming from the newly-opened door. “And we sent it on a post-it.”

 

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “You’re the best sons that a mother could hope for. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to meet my boyfriend.”

 

“Be safe!” Kellan called after me as I put the cat down on to the sofa. “We are struggling with Dexter; we don’t need any more little Pruitts running around this place.”

 

The last thing that I heard before me was Archie’s slap to the back of his twins head as I shut the door behind me. With a flick of my wand, it was locked.

 

Kell’s mention of children made me cringe. I wanted to club my nephew over the back of the head for simply being around, I don’t think that I could manage a child of my own. Let alone that, I’m too young, and I’m pretty sure that I would raise the offspring of Lucifer.

 

I don’t know how Charisma does it. She lives in a world of magic, surrounded by mystical studies and paranormal activity, yet she works in the muggle industry. She is a primary school teacher. I believe that she works with seven year olds. She is only a trainee, but why that would interest her at all is beyond me. It’s shocking, really.

 

Her calm and gentle job is a vast contrast to what her fiancé does. He is training to follow in his fathers footsteps. He doesn’t have a degree and yet he is already suspected to be the best, he had caught two criminals and stopped a mass murderer within his first month on the job.

 

I think that he just likes the power, the authority. But if Charisma wants to continue to believe that he is doing it for modest reasons, to help others. Then let her. Who am I to tell her other wise?

 

Drew on the other hand turned in to a bit of an enigma. He and Harriet decided to get married straight out of Hogwarts – our jaws dropped at this. They said their goodbyes almost two weeks later and went traveling around the world. They are making an exception, coming home for the wedding, but are happy being in a different place every other day.

 

The tall blonde boy in the tippy hat is no more. Harriet, known now as simply ‘Harry’, threw it away and got him to cut off his masses of hair. He looks about five years older. His maturity shot up at an unrealistic pace. But if you handed him a practical joke box, he wouldn’t waste time reading the label.

 

After the break up, Kyle joined the pair. For almost four weeks they have been travelling as a couple and a family friend. The three couldn’t be happier. It seems odd to have our group split, but at least I got to keep the thing that I wanted.

 

I saw him by the fountain, our meeting point since we left Hogwarts.

 

As usual, he stood a head height taller than me. His arms were folded across his chest as he scuffed his feet along the ground. He stood in a pair of cottons with a polo shirt thrown over the top. His hat was still upon his head. The only thing that was out of place was the fact that he was splattered with paint.

 

I furrowed a brow as I padded up to him in my combat boots.

 

“You look dashing,” I smiled.

 

He looked up and greeted with me a quick kiss. “Not so bad yourself. We’re re-decorating Roxy’s room. She’s really quite demanding.”

 

Roxy, the other Weasley. She was Freddy’s little sister, completely and utterly the opposite of everything that Fred was. The only similarity they shared was their personality and desperation for trouble, both an aspect they inherited from their mother. Roxy inherited Angelina’s brains and determination. Freddy was just, well, his father – with a bit of himself thrown in.

 

I sat down on the fountain next to him and folded my jacket over my arms.

 

“I could guess.”

 

He nudged my shoulder with his own. “The only thing worse that I could think of doing would be your room.”

 

“Oi!” I whinnied. “I’m not that bad.”

 

“You would have everyone’s head by the end of the day on pikes, they would be room ornaments.” I cringed at his words. “You wouldn’t have red paint anymore, it would be my blood.”

 

“The upside would be that I would always be with you.”

 

His jaw opened a little. “You’re sick.” He accused. “Why am I dating you?”

 

“Because of my dashing charm and ability to make you feel insecure.”

 

“Both very appealing qualities,” He deadpanned. As he flexed his arms I noticed a large bruise upon his bicep. I prodded it and he yelped. “Don’t poke it woman!”

 

“How did it happen?”

 

“Avery,” he muttered. “Bastard hit me with a bludger.”

 

I snorted. “I still can’t get over the fact that you both got accepted on to the Puddlemere Team – and you have to work together.”

 

“I still can’t believe that I haven’t killed him yet.”

 

“You wouldn’t kill him,” I said quietly with a smile.

 

He looked at me. “And why’s that?”

 

I put my head forward and parted my hair with a quiet laugh. My glasses fell forward on my nose as I did this, causing the lines the separated cobble from cobble on the floor to blur a little. I rested one of my hands upon his thigh and patted it encouragingly.

 

“Because you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

 

“Yes I would.” He reassured not only me, but himself. The dark irises of his eye gleamed with mischief. “I am scary.”

 

I chuckled. “Just because you look like a bear doesn’t mean that you are one.”

 

“Oi, love. Don’t be rude.” He warned. “I may be … larger than you, but that doesn’t mean that you have to point it out. Now kiss me.”

 

His hand found the small of my back.

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

“Because you love me,” he said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. And it was.

 

The corners of my lips turned up. “That I do.”

 

“Good.” He said as my slender fingers found the bottom of his shirt “Because unrequited love sucks.”

 

“But that still doesn’t mean that I want to kiss you.”

 

He sighed. “I am sat here, by a fountain, water spraying my back, covered in paint in a shirt that actually belongs to my Dad. I jumped out of the back window to get away from my little sister and her painting all so I could come and see you. I now am sitting here with the most beautiful girl in the world next to me so the least she could do is damn kiss me!”

 

It took me seven years to get this, seven years to hear words even as demandingly simple as that. But it was a seven year wait that seemed to be worth it. Freddy had always been the reason behind my naivety, and he will continue to be. He was wrong; I won’t die alone with nine cats, because I will have him. I can make that happen.

 

Incase you haven’t noticed, I can be a little demanding and stubborn at times.

 






 

AN; There is was! The final chapter. I hope that you all enjoyed it. The twins and Nick and all in there, I tried to mention every character, so if there is one that isn’t mentioned, I’m very sorry.

 

I wanted to say a big thank you to ibelieveinmagic, for leaving me the first review for this story! But also to many others, I honestly couldn’t name them all; there are too many of you lovely readers and reviewers that have kept this going! There are 218 reviews on this story as I write this! Thank you so much! I can’t say it enough. It because of you that I love to write as much as I do!

 

I can’t leave you with a preview, or a summery of the next story; there isn’t one :( However if you’ve enjoyed this, I will be posting a new story called ‘The King Of Hearts’ which is a story from Albus’ Point of View and is only five chapters. His view is rather dry if I do say so myself. :D

 

Thank you again! Pretty please leave a review! I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading this story as much as I have writing it! :D


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