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Badgers, Blushing and Gods of Lurve by LaylaBethJagger
Chapter 1 : These Lips are Virgin Lips
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 36


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DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything you recognize. Nelly Furtado sings the song that the little cousins sing, and that is therfore not mine. All rights go to her. As well as JK. Rowling--all Harry potter characters etc. belong to her

These Lips are Virgin Lips






Dad is finally home. And he’s brought Uncle Andy with him. This is very annoying because as of this moment I am trying to relax myself be performing Tai-Chi in my bedroom, and expelling all my negative energy. This will make me happy which will mean that other happy people in the world will be naturally drawn to my superior ecstatic-ness.

How am I suppose to expel all my negative energy if all I can do is ponder possible ways for me to murder my stupid little cousins and find a way to permanently stick a toupee on my balding Uncle’s head?

Plus, as soon as they got home Mum decided that Uncle Andy – who’s Australian and up here for a holiday – should be out sightseeing, and she carted him out of the house, along with Dad, to go and see the Museum.

This should not have been a problem. I could have written a letter to Emily and possibly applied some of that new anti stress cream that I found in one of the local muggle shops.

But no—this is not possible as my traitorous mother and my annoying father have left me to babysit. For free!

How am I supposed to get money if I’m babysitting twerps for free?

“Thomas!” I shouted, at the stupid blonde devil child who was wearing my bra on his head like ear muffs. I am not exactly the most breast-y person you’d ever meet, but they’re existent which is what counts. “That’s not how you use those things.”

Thomas just laughed – more like cackled- and disappeared into my yard.

I froze.

My neighbours, who are relatively good looking muggle college boys, would be out in their backyard at this stage. They always have a barbeque on the last Sunday of every month.

And my cousin had just run out of the house wearing my pink and purple spotted size B bra?

On his head?!

Not good.

I hurried out of the house after him. The Neighbours live in a second story apartment, so their barbeque is always held on their balcony. Which meant they could just look down and see the embarrassing things that Thomas was doing with my Bra. “Thomas!” I hissed, “Give my Mother’s bra back.”

I couldn’t let them figure out that this was my bra, even though it was blatantly obvious that this did not belong to Mum, considering the contrast between her extreme water melons and my ...

“Thomas!” I hissed again, ducking my head behind our own barbeque, “Give it back.”

Thomas giggled and climbed up to the top of the green slide in my backyard. Why we even own a stupid green slide is beyond me. Mum and Dad tell me it’s because they have so many memories of me doing something cute on those slides and they couldn’t let it go.

Ha. I’ve seen some of those pictures and the only distinct memory they would have is the landslide of sick which had come from my small baby mouth.

“Nuh-uh...” Thomas laughed. He was grinning at me with a devilish smirk on his face. “I’m superman!”

“You’re not superman!” I said angrily. “If anything, you resemble and annoying toddler who wants to become Bugs Bunny.”

Not that my bras look like bunny ears.

“I like Bugs Bunny!” Thomas cackled. I risked a glance up at the veranda, where everything had gone dangerously silent to see a group of about seven boys staring down at us.

This is humiliating.

“Thomas Edward Dalton!” I scolded. “You give my mother’s bra back.”

Thomas shook his head. “This isn’t Auntie Helen’s! It’s yours, you silly...”

Oh, my god. Kill me now.

“I saw you dancing in it this morning.”

Do you think in such circumstances that use of the memory charm would be frowned upon? I’m sure I can remember it. Obliterate, or something.

“I can do it too, Kate!” William, the devil child’s twin, ran out in my Winnie the Pooh bra. To my horror the two broke out in song. “ Promiscwus girl! Whew eber you aw!” They started chanting.

Actually...

Right now, the Killing curse sound good to me.

After a war cry much like the ones in those movies I launched myself at the two boys. We all toppled off the ladder, me breaking the boy’s falls, but I had them caught.

“You little twerps are going to bed.” I muttered cheeks aflame. I had to tie William down, hands to his head rest, but once I convinced him that if he moved, a giant troll would come from the closet and eat him, they weren’t entirely necessary.

I frowned and walked back out side, much to my embarrassment. I had to put the slide back upright so my parents wouldn’t suspect that anything wrong had happened and I could hoodwink them into paying me for this day of hell.

Mark and Jacob- the muggle who live in the apartment next to our house – hadn’t refrained from introducing me to his mates in the half an hour since our encounter.

“Her name is Kate Dalton. She’s a bit of a kook.” Mark had introduced me as.

Gee. Thanks.

I don’t think any of them had noticed that I was back outside again, listening to the very unflattering descriptions of me. ‘Madwoman,’ was the one that held in my heart.

“I’ve never seen her around that house before.” One of his thickset boyfriends muttered. “All I’ve ever seen are those weird middle agers who are barely around the house anyway.”

Yes. They defiantly hadn’t noticed I was dropping the eaves.

“Nah. She may be weird but their families really rich.” Jacob answered. “She goes to this really elite Boarding school in the country. She only comes back for Christmas, usually. Sometimes she doesn’t come home for the whole year. But she’s always here in the summer.”

“Whoa.” Another of their beefy friends laughed. “Bring home any friends?”

Mark guffawed. “Yeah.” He laughed. “Her name’s Emily. She got massive...”

Time to stop.

“Oi!” I shouted pegging a piece of bark up to the balcony. It missed by a long shot, but my shout got their attention.

“Ah. Kate. Have fun tonight?” Jacob called down to me.

I frowned, crossing my arms across my chest. “You’re a pig!” I shouted. “And quit chatting about my best friend like that you stupid pervert!”

He feigned interest and turned back to her friends.

“I told you she was a weirdo...” He muttered.

Okay. He may be hot, but not good enough for me. I grabbed one of the small rocks on the ground and pegged it at him. This one went a little closer, missing Jacob and instead hitting Mark.

They both spun around to face. I smirked. “Whoopsie...”

“Nice, Dalton.” Mark sniggered tossing the rock back to me. I caught it. “Very mature.”

I frowned at him, stomping back into my house. But not before I could hear one of his stupid friends say, “How old is she any way? She’s hot.”

It was at this stage that I realised I was dressed only in my sexy purple Barney the Dinosaur shorts, Ug boots and a massive baggy T-shirt.

Excellent.






“Ow!” I shouted for the whole station to hear. I dropped my suitcase and lifted my foot, examining where the stupid pavement had hit me. “Stupid bloody station floor...” I muttered. “Supposed to be my friend.”

I heard the laughing from behind me, but before I could do anything about it. I was embraced from the side by a thin stick of a girl with a mane of sexy blonde hair.

“Em!” I shouted, gleefully wrapping my arms around her too. I let go of her before we put off all the boys present. “Have a good vacation?”

She scoffed, “Kate. I hate small talk. Do not make me recall the colossal events of my holiday.”

This tends to mean one thing in Em speak. She wanted me to beg more for her to tell me about her fabulous Italian Holiday and eventually become very jealous of her.

I sighed, “Emily Cook, please tell me of your fabulous holiday in which you swore to me you would hook up with hot Italian boys and be happy for ever more...

She sighed, “Sure. Because you begged.”

Drama queen. I swear to that girl, life is a stage.

As Emily began to recount her excellent holiday, of which I instantly became jealous of, I sighed. My holiday had, as usual, only consisted of extra embarrassment and PDA’s from my hormonal parents.

Honestly, it’s not so bad when you walk in on someone making out in an abandoned classroom, but when you walk into the kitchen to see you’re parent’s going at it above your soon to be Dinner it’s enough to trigger gag reflexes.

“I met this really sexy Italian, just like I said I would.” Emily continued. “His name was Romano, and he was excellent.”

This was implied in more ways than one, if you get my meaning. If I was put under the category of ‘Prude’ having never been kissed before in my life, than Emily was categorized under ‘slut.’

Not that I don’t love her. I adore her. It’s just people being stereotypical.

Plus, Emily wasn’t even really interested in that long term thing with guys. They were just exercise for when she finally met her one true love.

You see, Emily’s actually really pretty. Long blonde hair, curves every girl would die for and annoying twinkly blue eyes. Boys fall on their feet for her. She’s like the Hufflepuff version of Victoire Weasley. She graduated when I was in first year or something.

Back to my point, Emily is in the prime spot to find her true love. She’s gorgeous and has her pick of boys. It just doesn’t really work out with her because she’s convinced she will eventually end up marrying Daniel Wood – who’s the school new Quidditch teacher. He’s the son of Oliver Wood- that ex-keeper for Puddlemere United who’s really old now – and he’s about twenty five-ish.

Emily’s more into the Teachers of our school, compared to the boys.

Not that she’d go for Professor Longbottom or anything. That’s just weird considering his twin daughters are in the year below us.

No, Professor Wood is the one she’s intent on marrying.

“He was a great kisser...” Em babbled on. “But, he was nineteen. It was a shame to say goodbye to him, but it’s not like I was prepared for commitment.”

“Hurry up,” I urged, pushing her onto the train. “The trains leaving in a minute and we want to find a compartment. The guys will have--”

I tripped on the platform again and tumbled onto the train.

Emily had to lean on the train door to stop herself falling over she was laughing so hard. Blushing, I pushed myself to my feet. “Thanks, buddie.” I muttered irritably. “I knew I could count on my best friend to help me out.”

She was still laughing when we had found our compartment. Oscar Forest the Third was a bit confused when we arrived. I was fuming about how best friend were supposed to be comforting in matter like these and Emily was still wetting herself.

“And then...” Emily choked once we had seated ourselves, “She falls flat on her face.” She giggled here. “And she made this funny little ‘Oof’ sound.”

I scowled, “That tends to happen when you fall flat on your face.”

The two howled with laughter.

Eric the Clown and his younger brother Liam the Clownier came in next. Eric was in our grade but in Ravenclaw, and his brother was one year below us and in Gryffindor.

“Go find your own friends you little twerp.” Eric muttered to Liam as soon as they were both inside. “You’re in third year; you have to have some friends by now.”

Liam shot him an angry look. “I do have friends. They’re just with Rose Weasley right now.”

This confused me.

“Rose Weasley?” I questioned with a frown. “What are they doing with Rose Weasley?”

Rose Weasley was a particularly smart seventh year girl, and the daughter of not only the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the world renowned healer, but two of the three saviours of the wizarding world. Why would small third years be hanging with her?

“Because she’s their sister.” Liam replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I must have looked lost.

Liam rolled his eyes, in an annoying way for a fifteen year old. “Hugo Weasley? My best friend? Ring any bells?”

I was silent for a second. And then: “Nope, none. Nada bells a ringing in this head.”

There was a commune moment of eye-rolls.

“I met them on the train last year.” Liam sighed. “On the way to Hogwarts. Hugo was really funny and so was his cousin Lily. I’m pretty good friends with them.”

It all came back to me.

Not.

It would seem I wasn’t exactly what you call a person who excels at observation. I’m most definitely not the brightest witch of my age either- (curse those people that actually apply themselves – Lily Evans, Hermione Granger, Rose Weasley etc.)

“Guys,” Emily accepted. “Who’s going to ask me about my holiday?”

I shared a smirk with Eric. He pushed his brother out of the compartment with a “Shoo,” and sat down next to me. “I can’t believe my brothers friends with that stupid family.”

Eric didn’t like the Potter-Weasley clan. It wasn’t like he resented them for saving the world – he had worshipped them for it. And when he had arrived at Hogwarts he found himself ignored by James Potter—who was in third year when we started—just because he was in Ravenclaw.

And then, when he met Albus Potter, who was only in the year above us, he was bullied. Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy had become pretty close buds by that stage.

I suppose Eric felt kind of betrayed. The people he revered hurting him? It’s gotta hurt.

I shrugged, “What’s Hugo like?”

Eric shrugged. “The kid is cool enough, I guess. He better not turn my brother though. If Liam becomes an Asshole just because he hangs out with them, I’m shipping him off to Salem’s.”

What?

No, Eric isn’t drastically protective.

We turned our attention back to where Oscar was being bored to death by Emily’s recount of her holiday.

“And Romano did this totally hot thing with his tongue and—”

“Okay.” I interrupted, eyes wide. I did not even want to think about the multiple dirty things that Romano could do with his tongue.

Especially if it impressed Emily.






I let my head loll on Emily’s shoulder. The previous ecstatic-ism of being back and leaving my embarrassing family at home had ebbed away. Now it was just boredom and a faint longing to see the actual castle. I loved that building.

Usually, at this stage I would have fallen asleep, but it would seem that this wasn’t the case. I was kind of recalling everything embarrassing that had happened to me over the holidays and as a result my head was buzzing.

Oh. And did I mention Eric and Oscar were playing exploding snap right beside us.

That might have been the cause of my insomnia, if you think about it.

“Who got prefect this year?” I asked quietly.

Emily was prevented from answering when Eric jumped and the cards exploded. Oscar groaned but as Eric picked up the pile and began to shuffle them again, he turned to us.

“My brother got it.” He said smirking. “You know? Lindsay?”

I had always felt sorry for Oscar’s younger brother. It would seem their parents were a bit weird. They had named Oscar after his father and his grandfather, making him Oscar Forest Junior Jnr. And, because they couldn’t have two sons named Oscar they found the second most ridiculous boys name to name their second child.

“Who else got it?” I asked with a smirk, thinking fondly of the cute little Lindsay wearing his prefect badge.

“Professor Longbottoms daughter.” Oscar said smiling.

Emily laughed. “I’m assuming the one that’s in Hufflepuff?”

Professor Longbottom was the Head of Gryffindor. Dad told me that it used to be Professor McGonagall before Dumbledore and Snape died, letting her become Headmistress.

Let me tell you, Professor McGonagall as a Head of House must have made you a pretty good house.

But Back to the Longbottomed Prof. He has two daughters, Carson and Charmaine. They’re pretty cool girls. Charmaine is in Hufflepuff, and Carson is in Gryffindor which caused a good amount of Drama. Everyone used to think that family members were sorted into the same houses.

I always used to want to be Charmaine.

One, she had an awesome name. Charmaine. Their Mother’s name is Luna Lovegood (she’s the new editor of the Quibbler) and their grandfather’s name is Xenophilius. It was almost natural to have awesome names if you’re related to them.

Two, because she was the daughter of one of the guys who had helped Harry Potter. It wasn’t as though I wanted to be right in the limelight – like the Weasleys and the Potters were – but I had always wanted to be associated with one of those heroes.

My Mum went into hiding in the war--she's a muggleborn--and my dad's a muggle. Ever since the war my mum hasn't done magic. Unless its necessary. She's practically a muggle these days.

That’s defiantly something to be proud of.

“Charmaine got it.” Oscar said, a blush rising in his cheeks.

Well. This is an interesting new development.

“Oscar Forest the Third, do you fancy Charmaine Longbottom?” I demanded with a grin.

Oscar flushed.

Eric let out a little cheer. “Really dude?” He let out a bark of laughter. “I was beginning to suspect that you were gay!”

Oscar has never had a girlfriend. Actually, he had one girlfriend. But that was when he was small. Truth be told, both Emily and I had discussed the possibility of having Oscar come out of the closet. That would be awesome. Gay guys are always heaps fun to hang around.

Oscar scowled. “You guys can’t tell her.” He commanded. “She’s in Fifth year. She’s too young for me.”

I stared at him. “Are you, or are you not acquainted with Emily Cook? You know? The girl who’s crushing on a twenty five year old?”

Emily hissed and clapped a hand over my mouth. “Shut up!” She squeaked. “These walls aren’t exactly soundproof.”

Eric rolled his eyes and lifted his wand. He waved it in a peculiar fashion for a second and muttered something. “Sound proof now,” He said smirking at Emily.

She scowled.

“Eric…” she muttered, “Think about what would happen to me if people found out that I’m in love with Professor Wood.”

Eric was silent. “Right. Thought about it. What’s the problem?”

“I’m thinking it’s not entirely legal…” Oscar said slowly.

I nodded. “Tis not.” I agreed. “In the world of Muggles and Wizard-land.”

--

“Hogwarts!” Emily shouted as soon as she stepped off the train. “I’m home!”

I stared at her, trying to ignore all the amused looks we were beginning to receive. “Embarrassing much?” I muttered to her pulling her hands down from the air and tugging her towards the nearest carriage.

“Oh, please...” She giggled. “I’ve had to endure you for six years. Embarrassment is so natural to you, and that means I’m used to it.”

Quite frankly, this wasn’t something I expected from my best friend.

I frowned at her and pushed her into the Carriage. Said carriage was already partly occupied: a small third year Gryffindor girl and two of her chatty Ravenclaw buddies and a surly looking second year Slytherin boy.

When we got to the time that meant we had to change into our uniforms, Emily and I had booted the boys out of our compartment, so we could change without the peeping tom squad around. This was good, but Oscar and Eric proceeded to abandon us for some of their cooler guy mates like Robert Boot and Jonathan Tran.

As soon as Emily and I had seated ourselves, however, the Slytherin Boy made himself scarce – he literally jumped off the carriage and into another one. The small Third year girls also left, leaving us a vacant carriage, free of charge.

“I’m not that bad.” I muttered sullenly.

Emily snorted. “Right...” she said with a laugh. “Because you’re perfectly poised and sophisticated.”

I smell sarcasm. I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked with a pout.

Emily laughed, leaning across the carriage and ruffling my hair. “You’re so cute and oblivious, Katie...” she giggled.

I frowned again.

We both jumped when someone else jumped into our compartment. I smiled are Carson and Charmaine. I love those two.

“How were your holidays?” Carson asked as soon as she and her twin were seated.

I groaned. Here we go.

Emily had already started. “I met this totally cute Italian boy,” she gushed, “His name was Romano.”

Carson, being a Gryffindor, didn’t really know what horrible devastation was caused if Emily was allowed to blab on too much. And I know I said that she and her twin were almost as mature and sophisticated as we sixth years were, but nothing would prepare you for an Emily fantasy.

Charmaine, being best friends with a girl in our year (her name’s Natalie Henderson and she’s the nicest girl in our dorm) has been invited to too many sleepovers in our dorm. As a result, she knew the catastrophe that followed listening to Emily.

“What about you?” She asked smiling at me.

I shrugged. “Nothing much. Utter Mortification and Humiliation for me, every day of the vacation.”

She rolled her eyes. “You exaggerate too much.” She giggled. “It can’t have been that bad.”

I narrated my tale of ‘The Cousins, the Bra and the Hot College Boys.’

“Oh.” She said, once I was finished. “Maybe you weren’t exaggerating.”

Ha.

Unfortunately not.

“Alas, no...” I sighed, putting a hand to my forehead in that dramatic sort of way, “it would seem that I have been doomed to a life of embarrassment since I was born.”

She giggled.

“At least I come free with the humour.” I said shrugging. “That’s got to get me brownie points?”

She laughed again.

“I heard Emily’s shout.” She said smiling.

I nodded. “I don’t think theirs a living soul you didn’t hear it.” I muttered.

Charmaine smiled. “Happy to be home?” She asked.

I nodded. “I missed everything.” I sighed. “Even more so considering my abysmal holiday.”

“I missed everything except for the classes.” Charmaine said smiling. “Those I could live without.”

Not really what I was talking about but I’ll manage. I missed the actual castle. I missed our awesome common room and the snugly-wugly cushions that you practically sunk into. I missed the sky light that was directly underneath the Greenhouse.

I sure as hell did not miss failing all my classes though.

I nodded. “Yeah. Those I don’t really need.” I agreed.

We were both silent for a second in which we heard Emily say to Carson, “I swear, Romano could do weight lifting, with me as the weights.”

“Well, what did you miss?” Charmaine asked.

“The smell.” I answered instantly. She raised a distinct eyebrow and I shrugged. “The smell of Hogwarts is so different to the gassy small of London. You know all those car fumes and stuff?”

Charmaine nodded but she looked a bit lost.

“I mean, I love the smell of parchment, and that everywhere in my castle.” Hmm. That came out differently that I expected. “That was weird. But I speak only the truth.”

Charmaine let out a small giggle. I glanced outside to see where we were and I could almost see the doors to the castle. Sweet Home Hog-Wa-arts! I’m almost home!

“Its just the atmosphere, don’t you think?” Charmaine asked.

I nodded.

“I mean,” She continued. “Its different at home. It’s just you and your close family. Then you get back here and it’s like, everybody you know is stuck in the same building as you for nine months. It’s pretty damn cool.”

“Seconded.” I said with a knowing nod. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

The carriage skidded to a halt and I turned to see how Carson had gotten through the brief but scaring ride.

She looked a bit ill.

She was a Longbottom, after all.

As we all climbed out of the carriage, Charmaine and I continued our little discussion. “What else did you miss?” She asked holding out a hand to help her sister out.

“I also missed the smell of the forest, you know? It’s so earthy and ... yummy.”

SMACK!

“Oh.” I muttered from the ground where I had tripped. “The dirt smells the same too.”

Charmaine let out her tinkling laugh. Carson was desperately trying to hold in her laughs. Emily wasn’t holding it in. She was practically wetting herself with how much she was laughing.

At least the Longbottom twins had manners.

--



Please review. I hope you like this story. I’ve been working on it for a while, and I’m liking the direction it’s going in. The whole: Unknown Hufflepuff prone to mortification really strikes my fancy as it’s my life rolled up into Witchy-goodness.

Reviewing would make my day fabulous. I would wake up with a smile on my face, and you would have done your good deed for the day.

It’s a win-win situation

Also, for those of you who are a little iffy about the continuation of this story. There is absolutely NO student teacher relationship. It is hinted at, but that is simply the character misunderstanding an interaction between two other characters.

THERE IS NO STUDENT_TEACHER RELATIONSHIP IN THIS STORY.

Gracey::


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