Chapter 1 : “My Honeydukes’ double chocolate chunky cookies with fudge squares and little mini marshmallows!”
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This story is for Warningvampiresbite, because she said my stories depressed her :)
Disclaimer - I am not a genius, so I couldn't have written Harry Potter.
Song Rainbow Veins by Owl City
Make haste, I feel your heartbeat
With new taste for speed, out on the street
Find a road to a humble abode where both of our routes meet
The silver sound is all around and the colors fall like snow
The feeling of letting go, I guess we'll never know
Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins
Cuz your heart has a lack of color and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later cuz we wasted all our free time alone
Chapter 1 - “My Honeydukes’ double chocolate chunky cookies with fudge squares and little mini marshmallows!”
She stole them.
She STOLE them.
Ok, now is stole starting to sound a little weird to you? I mean what is a stole anyway, and who comes up with these words? Oops, sorry, back to what I was saying. IT came in to my room and STOLE, (sorry I said it again) TOOK my cookie.
I mean, I could understand if it was a regular cookie, we all have a cookie need sometimes. They’re just so darn yummy. We must feed the cookie monster that lies within us!
But these were Honeydukes’ new range of double chocolate chunky cookies with fudge squares and the little mini marshmallows.
It was going to be the chunkiest cookie I had ever eaten. Chunkier than the one I ate at Christmas, while everyone else was scoffing down mince pies. I don’t like mince pies; they make my tongue tingle, so I get to eat cookies instead. Mince pies are yucky.
Why do they call them that? They’re not made of mince.
Or are they?
Ewww, don’t even think about that.
She tends to think I have issues with cookies, but I don’t. Not really. I just like them a LOT.
The “she” I keep referring to is supposedly my best friend.
Doesn’t her name just scream Cookie-thief? I should have known, the day I met her on the train. Her emerald coloured eyes, the eyes of EVIL. Her hair, the hair of an evil mastermind. Ok, so maybe I’m overreacting; what’s one cookie between friends?
Not much, right?
Oh, she is going DOWN!
Down, I say!
- - - - -
I ran out of the dormitory, through the common room, out the portrait hole, through the corridor, around–
Well, you get the idea.
Chest heaving, I finally arrived at the Gryffindor table and spotted the red haired, cookie stealing, excuse for a best friend. Grabbing a spoon off an unsuspecting second year I stormed towards Lily, showers of milk flying of the metal utensil. Lily turned her head, hearing my angry growls.
Look at her, acting all innocent. She is the DEVIL!
“Don’t Ruby me, Lily. I know what you did you wicked, evil, sorry excuse for a best friend!” I poked her with the spoon, glaring at her.
Lily raised an eyebrow, looking absolutely perplexed. Oh, she’s good.
“You stole my cookie.” I whispered threateningly. She should be scared now.
“What cookie?” If anything, Lily’s eyebrows rose further up her head.
“My Honeydukes’ double chocolate chunky cookies with fudge squares and little mini marshmallows!” I said despairingly, throwing my hands up in the air.
Lily’s face smoothed out she turned back to her cereal. Picking up the Daily Prophet she flipped to the middle and began to read.
What is she doing?
“Sit down Ruby; you’re making a fool of yourself.”
Slowly I sank down on the bench, still gripping my spoon wearily, just in case. What is she doing now?
“You have a problem Ruby.” She spoke with a voice full of authority.
“You just stormed in here, armed with a metal spoon, looking absolutely delusional
because of a cookie.”
Lily sniffed and turned away from her paper, staring at me expectantly.
“Are you ready to admit you are crazy or not?”
That girl is mean sometimes. Not very nice Lily, not very nice.
“I do not have a problem.”
I don’t, honest. I just really like cookies.
She is such a moody teenager.
“So, do you have it or not?”
Lily rolled her eyes and passed me the toast.
I was just spreading the jam on to my toast when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and was met face to face with a short, scrawny boy with a cloud of puffy ginger hair.
“I was, w-wondering if I c-could have my sp-poon back, please?”
Lily snorted in to her pumpkin juice, making the boy look even more terrified. I smiled, passed him his spoon and then turned and thumped a choking Lily on the back.
This is what happens when you charge in to the great hall, threatening your best friend with cutlery.
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