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Poppy by xxpetrapan
Chapter 1 : My Best Friend
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 8

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Beautiful Banner by the amazing amoretti @ TDA

This is who I imagined would play my characters

Freddie Highmore as Bill Weasley

Dakota Fanning as Poppy Wellington




Poppy Annabelle Wellington. Poppy with her unruly straw colored hair adored with torn ribbons. Her big, bright blue eyes that always sparkled. Poppy with her two front teeth missing but still she had a beautiful smile. Poppy with her handmade frocks, mismatched socks, and scruffy shoes. Poppy who was poorer than my family. Poppy who loved to roll down hills. Poppy my best friend.

 I met Poppy one day when I was only but three. My dad told me he was going to let me roll down the big hill all by myself. I was so excited, I hugged him. We headed off, me holding his hand, to the big hill. I ran as fast it was possible up the hill and saw that another kid was up there with their dad. I knew she was a muggle because I had never met her before, only saw her around the village. My dad went to talk to her dad. My dad loved anything to do with muggles. I walked over to the girl and she instantly started talking.

 “Hiya! My name is Poppy!”She said excitedly.

“I am Bill,” I replied quietly.

“Bill you are my new bestest friend, well I have never had a bestest friend before but whatever,” She said smiling.

I smiled too, Poppy then grabbed my hands and flung me to the ground. We lay across from each other and rolled down the hill. At the bottom we just stayed their laughing. Her ribbon had fell out and my bum was in a mud puddle, but we did not care. We kept rolling back down the hill until it got dark. We both went home but everyday we would meet back up on the hill.

 Even though I was a wizard I still went to muggle school. My parents wanted me to learn about muggles and also how to speak, spell, and learn maths. So when I turned five I went off to the the village school and Poppy was in my class. After school we would go back to her small house for cookies (her mum made the best cookies) and to do our homework. She was not allowed at my house because my parents were not ready to show a muggle our magic.

 One day, my mum finally let me bring her over and she promised to not to tell a soul what we were. I lead her into my house and she instantly was amazed. She loved the pots and pans cooking stuff by themselves, the duster whizzing though the air, the clock that had our faces on it, she loved the radio playing wizard songs, she even loved the gnome that walked into our house before my mum knocked it out. From that day on she came to my house for cookies and homework. We would listen to Wizard Radio and spy on the ghoul in the attic.

 Poppy loved my baby brother Charlie she would sing to him and hold him. She also loved to watch the pictures move. She always told me she wished her moved too. My dad told her to bring one over and of course she did, and he made it move. I was one of Poppy and I on our first day of school, her mum had taken it.

 One day when we eight, we were watching my cousin Alfie flying and she really wanted to try. My dad got on a broom and told her to jump on. She said that was the best feeling of her life. That was the last day she ever rode a broom.

 I didn't know she was sick. She never showed any signs or ever told me. One summer day, the day after she flew on the broom, she did not come over like she did any other day. I was worried, so I went to her house. Her grandma was there and she was crying. She told me Poppy had pancreatic cancer and that she was going to probably die tonight. I had my dad drive me to hospital right away. I ran threw the nurses legs when they told me I could not see her and I ran to her room. Her mum and dad hugged me and told me I had to be quick with seeing Poppy.

I ran to her bed and she looked awful. She smiled at me and grabbed me hand.

 “Bill Weasley, you are my best friend and I love you.”

I cried, “Poppy don't die, my dad can cure you!”

“No, Bill it is my time to go, I don't wanna but I have too,” She said crying.

I kissed her and looked up, She was smiling from the kiss and she looked at me and whispered, “Bye.” She died. I cried and did not let go of her hand until her dad pulled me away.

 She was eight, and she should not have died, it was too soon.

 I still go to her grave when ever I am at home. Fleur has been there too. She always tells me that I was a great friend and Poppy lived because of me, and you know what I believe it. We also planted Poppy flowers all around her grave. They of course were her favorite. I kept her alive and she made me who I am today.

 Poppy Wellington I miss you.

 Poppy my best friend.


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