Chapter 1 : Two Shorties, Strawberry Cake, and Filch.
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 15|
Background: Font color:
I’ve been suffering a major case of writer’s block (again). Watch out for it for me (it’s out to get me!).
I must admit, I really owe it all to my older brother for making me realize what I was born to do, match people up to let them fall in love. In other words, I was a true flying cupid with wings and arrows to go with, a matchmaker everyone would find out about one day, a love guru. Except I was a sane cupid, not the kind that went around naked and stuff like that.
It’s really funny what big things a fourteen year old can do even when you can do magic. One thing can lead to another and next thing you know, I’m running Hogwarts number one matchmaking business. I may have made some mistakes in the past (One poor girl hates me now), but it still really helps if you’re the only one.
When I was fourteen, my brother by six years, Scotch (Scott on his birth certificate), was visiting me and our parents for a short time. You see, Scotch, has this sort of internship in the Ministry of Magic’s Department of International Magical Cooperation and he travels all over the place with his bosses and gets concerned on all these foreign affairs. Apart from his visits, I never get to see him and I really love my brother. So I hatched up the craziest impossible plan ever, well, planned.
I was young, fancy free, foot loose, and I have to admit kind of stupid.
One question popped up in my brain when I was fourteen: Would marriage make him stay put? Like I said: stupid. But to me at the time it was like: Oh, what a piece of strawberry milkshake, nothing Caridee Cox can’t handle!
My plan was simple (My common sense thought otherwise…). I would find him a perfect girl, make them go on their first date, get that girl to be his girlfriend, get them to fall in love, and get Scotch to propose to that girl. Fate is another funny thing because that’s exactly what happened in two years after I made that plan. I guess my stupid plan worked.
In your smartie pants FACE, common sense!
Now I’m sixteen (Maybe a bit less stupid than when I was fourteen) and Scotch (I take full credit for his nickname) is getting married soon to his fiancée Julianne Louis, a dark haired brown eyes beauty with an intelligence to match. I’m so happy she’s going to be my sister-in-law.
They love each other and I love that they love each other. Scotch had taken a longer visit to go on his first date with Julianne, but first dates tend to wind up for months and then a year. Love turns into engagement (You should see the ring Scotch got Julianne ooh prreeccious) and that ends us into an almost a year worth of wedding planning.
How many dresses did I try on? Oh yeah, about five million billion trillion of those itchy demons.
And between all that stress, love, and dresses: I realized I found the weirdest calling yet. Matchmaking.
That leads to my business taking off when I came back to Hogwarts for my fourth year, continuing on to fifth year, and that led to where I am now: heading to Hogwarts to my sixth year, ready to see my best friend, Arienne Kline, and most defiantly ready for more people to ask me for cupid’s arrow.
Be afraid, very afraid.
I carried my trunk through King’s Cross Station; swinging it around like mad child. It looked as if I was about to hit anyone who would block my way. I just don’t like dragging it, or using a trolley, or seeing a healer to see if my arm had random muscle spasm.
I was Caridee Cox: TRUNK MONSTER! Do you get it? Trunk? Truck? Didja? Oh forget it.
Clearly, Julianne and Scotch were smart to stay a couple feet behind me.
The two had decided they were the ones to take me to King’s Cross after my mum and dad said they were to busy sorting out Ministry what-not and figuring out what frilly, big outfits they were sending me to try on for the wedding. Wait-I haven’t told you yet, the wedding’s during Christmas. Can you believe how magical that’s going to be?
“Merlin, Caridee, stop swinging your bloody trunk around! You’re going to knock someone’s eye out!” said Scotch, diving in to rescue poor muggles who was so close to feel my wrath. He lifted the trunk and patted my golden blonde curls. Whenever he does that I feel like I’m feet shorter than him.
Julianne chuckled at my brother. Scotch had that kind of charm. He was handsome (Slightly different hair color, he has somewhat messy brown hair, but the same deep blue eyes as me), has a sense of humor, was nice, and smart.
I grinned. “Good to know, Scotch,” I said. Julianne raised her dark brow when I said my brother’s nickname.
“Have you ever called him ‘Scott’?” asked Julianne.
I shook my head. “Scott’s kind of common. Butterscotches are yummy. So Scott turns into Scotch,” I explained vaguely.
“Caridee likes nicknames,” said Scotch. “Ever since her crazy friend Arienne gave her one and said it reminded her of some muggle thing she liked as a kid.”
I stuck my tongue out at Scotch for calling Ari crazy. Sure, she can be a bit hyper and can run for hours around the quidditch pitch without stopping as if she had a sugar rush, but Ari is my best friend. Her nick name for me is Bear. She could have called me ‘Cari’ or ‘Ree’ or ‘Dee Dee’, but she called me Bear when we met in our First Year. I think it’s funny: no complaints here. Like my brother said, I like nicknames.
I really love the name of Caridee though. Have you ever heard of a girl names Caridee Mae Cox? Thought not. I get a bit of both names: Ari is the only one who calls me ‘Bear’ (People seem to agree with Scotch) and everyone else practically calls me by Caridee.
We continued to walk through King’s Cross, slowly reaching Platform 9 and ¾ for the Hogwarts Express. Apparently the conversation bug kind of died, so the three of us went through the barrier to the platform with silence. When we arrived on Platform 9 and 3/4; however, I was engulfed with a huge hug and a loud squeal of delight.
It was Ari. Typical.
“Oi! It’s-good-to-see-you-to,” I wheezed out hugging her back. “Ari-can… let-you- WILL SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS GIRL OFF OF ME!”
Scotch pried Ari off of me and straightened. She was glowing in her lemon yellow dress (It really brought out the summer highlights in her brown hair). I hugged her properly before I greeted her, but of course after I hugged her she went right on talking.
“Bear! I’m so happy to see you! How was your summer? Mine was great! You’ll never ever never ever guess what I did! Never ever never ever guess,” said Ari happily, grinning. “Guess what!?”
Scotch and Julianne laughed, I merely chuckled. Ari was more like a girly girl than me: she likes the color pink (I know, I know: What the hell were people thinking of when they mixed red and white together?!) and did stuff to her hair more than I did (Curly golden blonde hair? Done for the day). My style of clothing was different than hers: something classy with a splash of color. Ari calls it Classy Chic. She wears a lot of colors, it was normal for Ari to come and wear some rainbow colored dress and a pink bow in her hair.
“Good to see you to, Ari,” I said.
“You must be Arienne Kline,” said Julianne politely, holding out her hand.
Ari shook her hand and gave me look that read ‘Oh-so-this-is-the-girl-Scotch-is-getting-married-to’. I grinned again. She and Julianne never actually met, but they both had heard a lot of each other.
“You look lovely, Arienne,” commented Julianne, taking a look at her garments. Ari turned and smiled at me again.
“C’mon Bear, we might as well get a compartment on the train,” she said and grabbed my hand, tugging me hard.
“Damnit, Ari,” I said. “Have you been adding extra sugar to your cake again?”
“What makes you suspect such a thing!?” gasped Ari dramatically, her mouth in an O shape, hand on her chest. I laughed.
“Let’s go,” I said as I took my trunk from Scotch.
“Bye Scotch! Bye Julianne!” I said, hugging them both. “I’ll see you guys at Christmas!”
“You better,” warned Scotch, but then chuckled. “Well, run along, Caridee.”
And so, I did.
The two of us had settled in a compartment in the back of the train where no one could disturb us. None of us were Hufflepuff prefects, so we didn’t go to the meetings. I started reading the Morning Prophet (Nothing important, just something about Wizarding naturalist Luna Lovegood discovering Blibbering Humdingers). Ari began bored with the lack of conversation, so she began humming endless muggle songs while parting and imparting my curly hair. If her goal was to get me annoyed let’s just say she would earn thousands of brownie points.
My blue eyes found Ari’s brown ones and it narrowed. “Will you puh-lease stop doing that? It’s already terrible looking without someone’s help,” I said, tugging my hair from her grasp. She pouted.
“Well, well, someone fell on the wrong side of her bed this morning,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “And your hair looks fine; Bear, cute as a button.”
Problem is, I don’t think buttons are the cutest things in the world.
“If you’re so bored, tell me about your summer,” I said, picking the most obvious topic of conversation. Her eyes lit up as if she expected me to say that all this time. Well, I’ve been busy, you know, reading about Blibbering What-zits and thinking about the next dress demon my mum would send me.
Ari flipped her long brown hair back and began. “I did a bunch of things for summer. I went to Paris, France and the Traverse Alley there is in my opinion, way better than Daigon Alley here. I must have bought a hundred different robes. French got style.”
I laughed. “Bet they do, Ari.”
“But,” she continued, “There was something I have to tell you to…. I mean I would have said it in a letter or something, but…”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, what were you thinking? You-Know-Who returned?”
“I’m perfectly aware, Bear. Well, I kind of…”
“Honestly, just tell me! Or I could easily sneak a bit of Verataserum in—”
I was interrupted when the compartment door swished open, revealing a red head, to be specific, Lily Potter, freckles and all. She looked in the compartment, looked at the two of us, and caught my blue eyes with her brown. I swear I saw little flames reflecting in her eyes; apparently her temper isn’t the only one that’s playing with fire.
Don’t tell her I said that.
Get it, got it?
“Blimey! There are absolutely no empty compartments in here!” A voice said. I knew who it was. It was unmistakably, James Potter the Second. Not the person I wanted to see when Ari was telling me something important. Actually, not the person I wanted to see ever.
Do you know how many girls I’ve tried to pair him up with?
Do you know how many tissues wasted when those girls got dumped by him?
Bingo. A lot of desperate whining girls. And a lot of ice cream.
He is one of the only times where my matchmaking business goes downhill. At least it’s only him and not twenty other boys. James Potter wouldn’t know love if it hit him in his- well I think you get the picture. It’s pretty much the only thing I complain about him.
Remember that mistake in fifth year I made? Concerning a girl who hates my guts now?
It’s Lily Potter.
That evil boy broke her heart and she blames it all on me. As if I would know that the boy was a good liar and was only using her as a toy. I don’t think Lily has ever spoken to me since that time. And that was probably the worst thing to experience. I mean, it isn’t good if you made a Potter upset. Because everyone practically loves them and when a Potter hates you, everybody else does to. Thank Merlin; it only lasted for a couple of weeks.
I’m not perfect at everything I do, you know.
Back to the present, Caridee.
“Oi! Lily! You found a compartment?” James asked her. Lily continued to glare at me and James poked his head in (You can imagine: messy black hair and hazel eyes). I could hear Ari squeak a little, I didn’t know why. Lily pushed her brother aside and shut the compartment door; she clearly did not want to sit with us.
“Lily! There were only two shorties there, we can sit with them,” I heard James say. I raised an eyebrow. Two shorties? WELL, extremely tall person, I banish you from this compartment!
“C’mon Lily, I don’t want to-“
“No, let’s continue searching,” interrupted Lily quickly.
I heard footsteps disappear into the corridor and I turned back to Ari, who was still eyeing the compartment door that Lily Potter just shut.
She is never going to get over the whole thing.
Who am I kidding? Neither am I.
I twisted one of my curls. “So, what was it you wanted to tell me?” I asked casually as if none of the previous scene had ever happened.
Ari blinked and looked at me. “Nothing,” she said..
I knew she was lying, but I didn’t ask her again. Don’t worry, when the time comes, I’ll pounce the question on her.
That’s right, pounce. I may be a badger, but I’m like a cheetah. Rawr.
We stared at each other in silence until Ari broke it. “What did you do for your summer break, Bear?”
I drummed my fingers on the seat as I pondered. “I tried on a million dresses, tasted a lot of different flavored cakes, got a stomach ache from eating all those cakes, I upchucked, got sick, got better, and helped with the wedding some more,” I answered.
“What a busy summer you got there, Bear,” she replied. “Remind me to never give you cake.”
I don’t think I could look at another one.
We went on talking about the OWLS we received (Must been the most boring subject of talk ever, we’re not Ravenclaws). I knew I would fail Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic. My family wasn’t the one for pets and animals. Professor Binns sucked the life out of us Hufflepuffs and we’re usually very cheery.
The rest of the train ride went a lot like that except the part where we bought sweets from the Food Trolley (I averted my eyes from the cauldron cakes). And when we were nearing Hogwarts School, we quickly changed into our uniforms.
Skirt, tie, sweater, white button up shirt, black robes. The works.
I jumped off the steps of the train, curls flying up and down. Ari quickly followed me and went off to find a carriage. When we were searching for a carriage, I realized we should have chosen a compartment in the front. All the other students had already occupied many of the carriages since they could exit the train faster than me and Ari.
“Let’s sit over there,” I said, pointing to a carriage a distance away from us. Ari squinted to see if their was someone sitting there and then she made a face.
“No, Bear, I refuse to sit anywhere near her,” she said crossly.
Of course, Ari was talking about Georgina Steppes, a wealthy, dark haired girl our age, a Gryffindor. Ari was never on good terms with her, while I was fine with her though. Ari never liked Georgina since first year, all due to just a little teasing, but Ari doesn’t like stuff like that.
I know Georgina doesn’t like Ari either.
I wasn’t sitting in their boat on the way to the sorting, but all I knew was, from Ari’s telling, that Georgina had kept on boasting on about the way she was wealthy and stuff like that and Ari got really annoyed and pushed Georgina off the boat and into the lake. At least the Giant Squid didn’t gobble her up.
Ari would’ve liked that.
“Get over it,” I said and walked to the carriage. Ari was forced to follow me.
Georgina looked up. “Hey, Caridee,” she said sweetly and saw Ari, her expression fell a little bit. “Oh Ari, hello.”
Ari mumbled something and sat down next to me. She then looked at her feet. “It’s good to see you, how was your summer?” I asked her politely.
She waved a hand. “Nothing really, it was my 16th birthday though, so me and one of my friends and my boyfriend went around Daigon Alley, you know just celebrating with some ice cream and stuff like that,” she said. “I had a really awesome time.”
I smiled. “Oh, then happy belated birthday!”
Soon, the carriages carried us (I think, I don’t what the bloody hell they were doing, there were nothing pulling the carriages) off to Hogwarts. During the ride, all three of us (Okay, okay the two of us) talked about random stuff. Ari only joined in because Georgina started talking about Quidditch which was one of the things I really hated, I’m afraid of heights. Georgina and Ari are on their house’s Quidditch teams. I’m no fan, but I know that Georgina was a Chaser and Ari was Seeker.
Oh, I think that’s another reason Potters dislike me. I hate Quidditch.
I bet if you met me, you would love me.
Georgina separated from us when we entered the Great Hall; she sat at the Gryffindor table while we sat with our fellow Huffies.
We call ourselves as Huffies. Or Hufflepuffs. Or Badgers. Or Hufflepufflies. Or Puffs. We Hufflepufflies are soo creative.
I sat down at the end and tugged on Ari who didn’t even notice that we were at our table. She was eyeing the Gryffindor table. I don’t know what she was doing, but my only guess was that she was looking for Georgina.
See what Quidditch DOES to people?!
“Ari, sit down,” I said to her, tugging her. She sat down.
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to YELL.”
What? When in the name of Merlin’s pointy hat did I yell?
And I mean it.
Cross my fingers, hope for-
Ari and I clapped along with the other Hufflepuffs as Mariah White sat down at the Hufflepuff table. She was definitely Huffie material. We’ll run those Gryffindors down the toilet hole. Buuttt, considering that nearly all of them are part of the Weasley clan; we’ll run them out of business.
The food appeared and I started eating to my tummy’s delight. I don’t think the House Elves ever failed at their cooking. The Great Hall buzzed with excitement about the upcoming year and it died down to the munching and crunching and slurping of food. I was among them. I can’t help it…
How do they cook like THIS?
Ari and I started a game of drumstick fencing and only stopped once one of the Hufflepuff prefects (Susanna Miles was her name I think) glared at us. No tom-foolery gets past her. I swear. But once she looked away, we resumed our fencing.
The food disappeared while Ari was eating a small piece of turkey with her fingers. Let me draw up a small diagram.
Ari eating turkey with fingers.
She bit her fingers.
Ari went Ouch.
Genius, right? I should write a book.
The platters filled with new food, dessert: cookies, pastries, licorice wands, lollipops, and- gulp- cakes.
I took one look at them.
Creamy and frosted to perfection with little sugar candies around it. A little second year smearing frosting and licking his fingers. A piece cut off. The inside: soft, too soft, with a creamy strawberry filling.
TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH!!!!!
It all happened really fast. Another diagram? With pleasure.
I looked at the cakes.
I ran out of the Great Hall.
I threw up.
On Mr. Filch.
On his new shoes.
Gee, what a great way to start off the year, huh?
A/N: Heyllo!! If you’re reading this it means you’ve just finished the first chapter of TPOH (Insert Loud Clapping and WHOO HOOS!) I bet you’re just dying to review as much as a squirrel wants nuts. I’d love any feedback from you guys.
Thanks ya so much.
Other Similar Stories