Chapter 1 : The Girl with Two Flowers in her Name
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Wallflower: a person who sees the world for what it really is, in all its beauty and its sorrow.
Someone who goes unnoticed, standing on the side lines, watching the world race by. Silent.
They are the quiet ones, the ones who don’t seem to matter, but who in the end make all the difference.
These are the most amazing people you will ever meet and you will never, not even if you try, forget them.
Amazing, beautiful, wonderful, perfect, (insert more praising words here) banner by enchantress @ tda
Me, staring bravely into the face of Death
I stared at the letter one more time.
You know, just in case I had misinterpreted the whole thing. You never know, I could have acquired a fuzzy sense of comprehension in the past five minutes.
Unfortunately, my understanding skills were just fine. Having re-read it, I decided that I should probably take this letter seriously, seeing as this was the tenth time through and the words on the parchment hadn’t changed one bit.
Maybe one more time, just to be sure:
I am writing to you on behalf of your mother and myself, to express our deep concern for your social and academic success. Even though your grades have been more than acceptable, many of your teachers have informed us of your lack of participation in lessons, and other out of class activities. Remember, Delilah, school is of the utmost importance. If you do not sail through it with ease and grace, then you will pay for it later on in life. Your mother and I would like to encourage you to participate and socialize more, as it can do you no harm to make some friends. Starting from next week, you will join at least one extracurricular activity, and you will participate more in class discussions and debates. We will be checking up on your progress with your teachers, so please, darling, do not disappoint us.
Yours faithfully, John Rose.
Yours faithfully? Yours faithfully? This was my father writing to me, and he couldn’t even manage a ‘love from,’?
I re-read the third last line, scowling at the graceful handwriting.
It can do you no harm to make some friends. Pfft. What did he know about friends? He had gone through his school years polishing his prefect badge and spending Saturday afternoons at the Gobstones club.
I tried to ignore the short stab of pain that I felt, reading those words. I may not be the smartest cookie in the jar, but I did know that when your dad tells you you’re a friendless loser, you should start to get worried.
So yeah, maybe I was a little unsocial. Maybe I did flee from any chance of contact with my fellow classmates. It’s not like I could help being shy. I needed my space, is all.
And I did have a friend, thank you very much.
I got along splendidly with Venus…
I sighed and put the letter down on my bed. I had known that my parents would find something new to criticize, sooner or later, but I hadn’t thought it would be something like this.
This was a cruel slap in the face, cunningly disguised as a polite letter of concern.
And now I was going to have to do something about it.
An extracurricular activity…
No way was I joining the Gobstones club. I would rather pole dance on the breakfast table and flash everyone my knickers before doing that.
I bit my lip, trying to sift through all my options.
No, I could never live through that. I would get bored five minutes into the first meeting.
Joining the School Journal?
Like I had anything to write about.
I drummed my fingers on my knee impatiently as I wondered if helping the house elves in the kitchen was considered an extracurricular activity. I pictured myself bringing Pipsy the house elf home for Christmas, and shuddered at the thought.
There had to be a Book Club, right? I searched through my memory, trying to remember if I had ever heard anyone talk about it. I remembered breakfast a couple a weeks ago, when I had overheard Sally Cooper telling her friend that she had tried to join, but it had been full.
I was starting to run out of ideas. I knew there were a couple of people who held chess tournaments on Monday afternoons, but I wasn’t nearly logic enough for that game. I would get distracted by the first bird that flew past the window.
I glanced back at the letter, which was sitting on my bed, looking much more innocent than it was. What had I done to that piece of parchment for it to butt into my comfortably boring life, and mess it all up?
I stared at the piece of paper hard, thinking, thinking…
What the bloody hell was I supposed to do? I had gone through all my options, and I was pretty sure there was no-
Turns out there was something else I could do. I just hadn’t thought of it.
It was my last option, and it would sure make mummy and daddy happy. For while. But would it make me happy?
Hell to the no.
But what other choice did I have, really?
I would not play Gobstones, I could never get a place in the School Journal, and Chess…well, I think we’ve both established that it’s not my strong fort.
But could I really do this? Could I, Delilah Rose, social reject, the girl with two flowers in her name, really go through with this?
The honest answer, was no, I could not, but seeing as my parents had now decided to become detectives as well as award-winning prats, I kind of had to.
Oh dear Lord.
Why on earth had I opened that letter to begin with?
And that was how, five days later, I found myself trudging down the main staircase, feeling slightly light headed, my legs having turned the distinct texture of jelly.
My breathing quickened as I neared the Entrance Hall, my heart making small, panicky movements in my chest, as if saying send yourself to a certain doom if you like, but don’t drag me there with you.
I agreed with it completely.
When I reached the Front doors, I took a deep breath and tightened my grip on my broomstick.
Because, I, Delilah Rose, social reject, the girl with two flowers in her name, was going to play Quidditch.
Hold on to your popcorn, folks, this is going to be one hell of a ride.
A/N: Hello lovely readers :) What do you think of this story? It's an idea that popped into my head, and I just had to put pen to paper...or fingers to keyboard, anyways. Tell me, do you think Delilah will survive the tryouts? Tell me what you think :)