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Whoops? by Rose Red
Chapter 1 : Of Stalkers, Hiding and Snogging
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 15


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How do I get myself into these messes?

Hmm? Please enlighten me.

No seriously I have no clue how but every single year I manage to mortify myself more and more and frankly the way this year is going I am excessively worried for the next one.

But this time it really wasnít my fault!

Okay so I know I say that every year and it's generally not true. Like that time that I wanted to dye Scorpius Malfoyís hair bright pink (this was before we all realized he wasnít the stuck-up prick his father was rumored to be before the war, but weíve slowly come to accept him) but forgot to factor in reflection from the massive amounts of hair gel that boy uses and somehow managed to charm all of Gryffindorís hair bright pink for the next three weeks (I still adamantly believe that that was not my fault). But at least I saved the world from Malfoyís excessively slicked back hair (I mean really, who wears their hair like that any more? What decade is he from, the 90ís? That was ages ago).

Anyway, this time it seriously wasnít my fault. Or at least it didnít start out that way.

Let's go back to the beginning yeah?

Okay so probably I should introduce myself, thatís how these story things go correct?

Alright so my name is Mara Rebecca Leonidas and I am a Gryffindor sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Yes I have heard it before. Hahaha, my last name is Leonidas (means Lion just for all you non-Greek people out there) and Iím a Gryffindor, youíre so bloody original.

I quite enjoy sarcasm which leads me to my best friend, Rose Weasley who has recently developed a creepy obsession with The Sleek One (read Scorpius Malfoy) himself. Sarcasm really has nothing to do with her obsession but she really enjoys the art. Yes art. Donít mock me.

Anyway, you are probably more interested in her newfound obsession than how our love of sarcasm brought together two lonely first years so lets go with that story line yeah?

What was that?

You want to know how a Weasley could like a Malfoy do you?

I did not say she liked him. Oh no. She is obsessed bordering on insanity but it is not of the romantic persuasion (at least not yet). And Iím not over-exaggerating about the insanity thing. Those two always had a, for lack of a better word, friendly rivalry, but lately theyíve seriously upped the ante.

I havenít even seen Rose in about a week and a half because she has holed herself up in the Library every waking moment unless sheís at quidditch practice.

Soon sheís going to turn into her Mum. Iíve got to remember to keep her away from the kitchens so she doesnít come up with some upchuck inducing acronym for elfish welfare.

Anyway, I think the rivalry really spawns from a supremely buried ferocious sexual tension between the two but I would never, ever say those words aloud. Itís basic blasphemy just to think the thought.

You see, Rose is a Weasley and Scorpius a Malfoy (do not mock my repetition. It's called dramaticÖ.dramaticÖ.well dramatic something or rather so just go with it).

Theyíve been bred to hate each other. Except their parents forgot one little thing. That would be the old saying ďitís a thin line between love and hateĒ and frankly, that pesky little line? Itís pretty thin. And by pretty thin I mean basically invisible in their case.

So yes, their newly invigorated and crazy struggle to beat each other in everything is the output of their repressed sexual tension.

But that has nothing to do with my story.

Okay so it kind of does because it totally affects my life, Rose is my best friend after all, but it really has nothing to do with my current predicament. Except that it was because of Rose and her newly formed attachment to the Library that presented the circumstances where-which my imminent doom played itself out. Meaning I had to leave the safety of my wonderful dorm to try and find her.

Between me holing myself into my room and her barricading herself to the library I have not seen my best friend in far too long. What is with the sudden reclusion you ask?

You see I have a stalker.

No Iím not kidding.

I know youíre sitting in your room reading this and thinking. Ugh. Another girl who thinks the world revolves around her. But I promise you, I donít think too much of myself.

I have an honest to Merlin stalker. And itís not even a cool stalker like Lily Evans.

Yes I know it's been like fifty years but everyone, and I do mean everyone, knows the story of James Potter and Lily Evans. I mean how could they not with James Sirius Potter following so closely in the footsteps of his namesake (but thatís a story for a later time).

Who is this stalker you ask? Well my dear readers (I almost called you followers, but then I felt a bit like Voldemort. You know, that supremely evil guy Harry Potter is so famous for defeating. Yeah, those evil type guys have followers. You are just a group of people who seem to be randomly interested in the craziness that is my life. But hey, if I were looking at my life from an outsiders point of view I would be just as intrigued, so continue on readers. Continue on.) his name is Kyle, Kyle McLaggen, and sadly he did not inherit the attractive McLaggen gene.

No, instead his outsides match his insides, leaving him small, spotty and prematurely bald. This wouldn't be such a problem if he werenít such an arse.

Seriously, he thinks heís Merlinís gift to Hogwarts while in the mean time heís failing History of Magic!

Who fails History of Magic????? Itís taught by a bloody ghost for Merlinís sake!

You can just write a load of waffle on the first few inches of scroll and then roll it up!

Itís not like Binns has the physical capabilities to unroll paper!

Plus if you even mention Goblinís anywhere in your essay (even if said topic has nothing to do with Goblins) you get an automatic Outstanding. Heís about as obsessed with Gobbledegook as Rose is with smashing Malfoyís GPA.

Frankly, I think they just keep Binns here so we get one easy class.

No seriously, those muggles think they have it hard learning maths and such but have they ever had to turn a desk into a hippopotamus and back? I donít think so.

Anyway, back to my stalker and his supreme creepiness. Sadly Kyle (ugh, I even cringe at his name. Which is quite sad because I used to think it was quite a nice name) is a Gryffindor.

I really think he confunded the hat or something. Heís too creepy. But I suppose it doesnít matter what fuels your bravery so long as you have it.

Anyways, so the relevance of his house in this situation means that I have nowhere to hide.

Thank Merlin the founders trusted girls more than boys. At least when worse comes to worse I can sit in my room like a recluse to avoid the intense psychological pain being implemented on me by this entire situation.

I really think this is going to drive me to the psych ward at St. Mungoís. Do they have one of those? If not they better get one soon because Iím on my way!

Just kidding.

Right. So back to my doom. I have been successfully avoiding Kyle (we will from here on out refer to him as simply ďThe CreeperĒ) for the last two weeks, be it hiding in my room, behind other people or a plethora of handy statues or even that random room which sometimes appears in the seventh floor corridor across from Barnabas the Barmy.

Oh you so know what Iím talking about donít even deny it. I am sure every single Hogwarts student since its inception knows of that tapestry. Itís so random. Where did they even find a man who wanted to teach trolls ballet in the first place, and what artist wanted to record such an idiotic piece of wizarding history?

Anyway, sadly today my ninja-like hiding skills (or lack there of) have finally let me down. Well not really. More like someone destroyed them for me. I'm confusing you aren't I? Well just keep reading, I'm sure the situation will become clear soon enough.

Today while trying to hide upon sighting The Creeper making his way down the hallway towards me I jumped behind two boys. These boys seemed broad enough in the shoulder area to provide ample protection from creeping eyes (yes I have been hiding from The Creeper enough to be able to judge correct shield shoulder breadth in just a wayward glance. It's a talent, what can I say?), but sadly I did not pay close enough attention to the identity of my newly created shields.

You see, using people you actually know as a human shield? Not the best of all ideas.

Random people just look at me like Iím a loon as I make my way down hallways dashing from knight to statue, outcropping to tapestry, but people I actually know are a completely different story.

Which brings me to Albus Potter. Yes The Albus Potter, son and look-alike to the one and only Harry Potter, savior of all wizard kindÖ..yeah, that Albus Potter (once again, no making fun of my repetition. I still canít remember the word for repeating something dramatically but when I remember you will be the first to know).

You see as a close friend of Rose Weasley it is inevitable that I know the inner workings of her enormous family quite well and this of course includes Albus Potter (among approximately three quarters of our school).

So today whilst making my sneaky way to the library to visit Rose and expertly avoiding any sight of The Creeper I made the grievous error of trying to hide behind The Sleek One and The Boy Who Happens to Be the Son of The Boy Who Lived. Grievous indeed. I like nicknames.

Anyway, instead of being a good little shield they had to loudly announce my presence to the entire hallway in the following form:

ďBloody Hell Mar, what do you think youíre doing?Ē Eloquent arenít they? And by they I really mean Al, just for clarification.

Next time I see Ginny Iíll have to inform her to keep her soap handy. Mouth of a sailor that one. Bastard.

He deserves it for outing me in front of The Creeper. Okay maybe not. That woman is scary sometimes. Even Harry Potter is afraid of her and he defeated the evilest wizard of ALL TIME. Okay maybe not scared, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, he just had to shout down the hallway which led The Creeper to us like a hound to a fox. Now I need to stress just how much this guy creeps me out.

He talks to me all the time, follows me everywhere and once when I was standing next to him he started stroking my arm. Yes stroking.

If the stroking doesn't do it for you, I once had to help him with a homework problem so he didnít fail and the next day he promptly announced to our entire class ďOh and Mara, thanks for last night. I really appreciate it.Ē Yep, it was a pretty great day. Donít you love awkward sexual implications?

Not to mention that the first time he asked me out (about seven thousand three hundred and twelve times ago, if I've been counting correctly) he was apparently channeling a character from that movie Grease. Seriously all he needed was a hair comb and some pomade and his impression would have been spot on. Legit. Dramatic pauses and everything. Although the effect may have been lost on account of his premature baldness...

But really if his tone was any creepier we would have had to alert authorities. It was after that fun incident where I decided on this new course of action called hiding at every available opportunity. Obviously it hasn't been working too well, taking the running tally into consideration and all.

Now that I think about it I have no idea why Iím a Gryffindor. Sometimes I think the hat just thought it would be funny taking into account my last name and all. Hey it has to amuse itself somehow. I mean yeah youíd hear a lot of gossip sitting in the Headmistressís office all year but Iím sure that gets boring after a few centuries or so.

Anyhow, since my self-imposed hiding scheme obviously failed epically at the hands of Albus Severus Potter I had been made and Iím not going to lie I was panicking a little.

Okay I was panicking a lot.

Iím pretty sure I started hyperventilating.

Seriously having a stalker puts an extreme amount of stress on everyday life. You really wouldn't think so until you acquired one but I promise it is not, and I repeat not an experience you ever want to live through.

So anyway, when he slimed his way over to us in his creepy little way and asked me out for about the trillionth time I exclaimed ďSorry I have a boyfriendĒ and promptly snogged one Albus Potter, second child of the savior of the free world.

Seriously, how do I get myself into these things?

Oh and that word I couldnít remember? It's reiteration. Good times, good timesÖ

Nope. That's not right either. Hmm. Whatever it doesn't really matter anyway.

But yes so now I am apparently fake dating Albus Potter.

Did I mention that we arenít really on what you would call the best of terms?

I mean it's not like we hate each other or something, but let's just say that Rose doesnít really like to leave us in the same room together for too long of a time because usually something happens to spontaneously combust.

Okay maybe not so spontaneously. But really how else could we act?

Me being Roseís best friend while he is her favorite cousin? Not to mention house rivalry and my slight obsession with coloring his best friends hair a wild array of rainbow hues.

But hey if your hair is that blonde youíre really just asking for it. Any color shows up and I really mean every color. I once dyed that boys hair turquoise with orange stripes and purple polka dots.

It was wonderful.

Donít look at me like that, it was O.W.L.S. week and he was just sitting there. I NEEDED STRESS RELIEF!

Right. So apparently I just completely disproved my point didnít I? I guess we do kind of hate each other after all.

So there I was, standing in the hallway stuck between my stalker and my enemy trying to silently convey the largest apology of all time to one Albus Severus Potter who had apparently lost all brain function between the words ĎI have a boyfriendí and the end of our snog.

Well frankly if I were him Iíd be pretty zoned out as well.

Iím a pretty excellent kisser if I do say so myself.

Donít look at me like that, Iím a Gryffindor. Excessive amounts of self confidence comes with the territory.

My kissing prowess is most definitely not the point here.

I kissed Al Potter! Hello brain? Might I ask that next time you decide to take a spontaneous vacation you kindly warn me before hand so I can be sure to blockade myself into a safe house where innocent people are not in the direct line of fire in case I decide to snog another one of my enemies?

Not that I really have other enemies, so really just in case I decide to snog Albus again. Which is actually a pretty good possibility at this point, based on his kissing prowess. Well it definitely rivals mine, and thatís saying something.

Especially in his current state of shock. Maybe I should have taken him to the hospital wing? Nah. He was still breathing, and standing, and staring.

Iím sure heíll recover in a day or two.

Well at that point I was seriously starting to have a freak out. The Creeper was staring with his jaw basically resting on the floor, The Sleek One was trying to stifle his laughter, and Al really looked as if he had been petrified or something, so of course that was the position where my dearest and best friend in the entire world had to find us in.

Oh dear Rose, a genius you may be, but one with good timing you are not.

I really hadnít thought that I could make the situation worse but Rose somehow managed it. I really should put more faith in that girl, especially when it comes to my utter mortification.

ďMara Rebecca Fucking Leonidas did you seriously just snog my cousin????Ē

And that was when all hell broke loose.

The Creeper let out the most horrific noise Iíve ever heard, started bawling and sprinted down the hallway. Scorpius legitimately fell on the floor and started rolling around he was laughing with such enthusiasm, and Albus? Well dear Alís ears started to turn red.

Everyone knows that when Albus Potter (or really any of the extensive Weasley/Potter/Lupin/Delacour Clan) start to get a bit pink around the ears you should run. And I do mean book it as fast as you possibly can.

Generally he is known as the Ďquiet Potterí verses the Ďbig-headed popular Potterí, or the Ďfiery little Potterí but itís always the quiet ones. Iím pretty sure Al has a worse temper than the other two combined. Trust me, Iím usually the one itís aimed at. Which is why I took this opportunity to grab Rosie by the wrist and pull her in the other direction as fast as humanely possible.

Once we got back to the relative safety of our dorm in Gryffindor tower I shut and silencio-ed the curtains around my four poster and was promptly assaulted by a not so pleased Rose Weasley. Seriously those parents need a stricter swearing policy. Although with a father like Ron Weasley I can see where she gets it from. Sometimes she even says ďMerlinís pants!Ē hahaha. Best exclamation of all time.

The first coherent and PG utterance to leave her fiery tongue was ďWell what do you have to say for yourself?Ē She sounded so much like my mother, so of course the only thing I could think of as a response was a well timed ďWhoops?Ē

I mean what else is there to say, Ďoh well I was hiding from my stalker but youíre evil yet extremely attractive cousin yelled my name therefore triggering my immediate doom so I snogged him. Also it was possibly the best snog Iíve ever had?í

No. That information can never be disclosed.

Ever.

Hold on just a moment. I did not just call Albus Severus Potter the best snog Iíve ever had. That must be a mistake. That or Iíve been seriously deprived. And no, No No No I must have just read that part wrong. Did I just call Albus Potter attractive? That canít be right. What is this world coming to????

Ahem. Please disregard the previous paragraphs where I inadvertently got my disgusting and worsts mixed up with my attractives and bests. Obviously Iím more worked up about the craziness of my day than I thought.

Now what in Merlinís name am I going to do? If The Creeper finds out I was lying best case scenario heíll continue to stalk me. Worse case scenario his deranged brain takes my lying as somehow me being in love with him and the stalking gets worse. What am I going to tell Albus? Heíll never willingly help me! He hates me! I hate him!!! This is never going to work!!!

What am I going to do?




A/N:

Hello All!!!!

Okay so this is a new story, and for all of you who also read TCCLLLM (I really didnít feel like typing out such an arduous title (not my favorite name if you canít tell)) you are probably confused since I told you I would have to slow down updates because I was super busy and then proceeded to write another story but I am finally done with my crazily busy term and as a celebration I have decided to start a new story as well.

Oh, also I had posted this chapter yesterday but I tweaked it a bit. What do you think? Do you like Mara?

As always thanks for reading, please review!!!!!

-Rose Red


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