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The Perks of Being Elizabeth Goodbody by still_fly
Chapter 2 : Phony
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 24

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^Shmexy banner by Magpie @ TDA ^______^


Chapter Two

I could faintly sense the soft cushion underneath my body, and the warm pressure in both of my hands. My fingers twitched involuntarily as I slowly opened my eyes, squinting at the bright light above my head. Sweet bloody Merlin, someone turn down the bleeding lights! I groaned, closing my eyes again and rolling onto my side . . .

Right into someone else’s body. I was so disoriented that I barely noticed the contact, didn’t even care, and snuggled up to the person as if they were my teddy bear. And, you know, they should be my teddy bear. They’re comfy. Old teddy, you’re fired.

. . .

Oh my gosh! Don’t tell Mr. Tedders I said that! And no, you may not use this as blackmail. Wanna know why? ‘CAUSE I EAT BLACKMAILERS FOR DINNER, HO.

“Eliza!” The teddy bear/person whispered excitedly, “You’re finally awake!”

I chanced another try at opening my eyes. It was a lot easier for them to adjust when I wasn’t looking at the ceiling and at Al instead.



In a BED with me!?!?

All of a sudden it was like there was a glowing, golden light descending from the ceiling straight on me and Al along with a chorus of singing angels. No? You didn’t feel it? Are you sure you’re human? You’re not the spawn of the devil or anything, riiight? ‘Cause that would be flippin’ awesome if you were! . . . You know, in a scary please-don’t-take-over-my-body-and-possess-me sort of way.

“Was I asleep?” I asked, yawning in a—hopefully—adorable way. I was still sort of snuggled up to him, but I don’t think he cared considering the fact that I’m one of his best friends. I did pull back a little, however, to look at his face. His eyes were bright—but when weren’t they?—and he held his hands in mine.

“Erm—” He let go of one of my hands to scratch the back of his head, “Sort of. Passed out might be a better term to describe it though. You were out cold for at least thirty minutes! It was bloody scary. Of course, my family cares more about food then they do about the other members of our family, so they’re all eating dinner right now. But I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Do you really think they consider me apart of your family?”

What I wanted to ask was, ‘Do you really consider me apart of your family?’ but I decided against it. I’mma wuss.

“Of course, Liza,” He said with a heartwarming, sincere smile. I mentally sighed.

Oh, sincerity. You’re killing me here.

Ironically, I may just hate phoniness more than sincerity. ‘Cause that’s what I am; a huge phony that put on the best believable smile and replied, “Well great! That means a lot to me, Al.” A huge phony that squeezed his warm hand in gratitude.


I hate you, life.

You’re a real poophead. Yeah, that’s right, I called you a poophead. ‘Cause it’s true. I can barely stand to look at you, that’s how much of a poophead you are. And no, I’m not immature for calling you that. It’s what you are, so it’s what I’m going to call you, okay?

Good, it’s settled then.

“Wanna walk over to my place?” Al asked suddenly, sitting up and forcing me along with him, “They’re still eating here, and I don’t think you should go in there. You might faint again . . .” He paused, checking to make sure if I wasn’t going to pass out just talking about it. Geez, it’s not like I’m prone to fainting, you dumb butt. How long have we known each other, Al? Five years? You’d think you’d learn these things already, “. . . We can make you something to eat over there.”

“Okay!” I chirped, climbing out of the bed—my bed, I just now realized (well, technically it’s not my bed, but it’s the one I use every time I visit, so technically it is . . . yeah). I pulled him along with me, made sure to cover my eyes as we passed through the kitchen, and then we strolled across the street to his house. When we entered the kitchen, I went straight for a place to sit.

“Now,” I said slowly while making sure that my butt was nicely situated on the chair at his kitchen table, rubbing it around a few times for good measure . . . don’t look at me like that! I already know I’m weird, “Make me a sandwich, slave!”

Al rolled his eyes, but nonetheless walked around his kitchen pulling condiments out of the fridge (they taught me what a fridge was last year! I still don’t get it though . . .) and getting the bread out of the pantry, “You know, it’s times like this that really make me question why I ever became friends with you. You’re mean to me.”

“I think it might be because of my charm and wit,” I suggested, flashing the goofiest smile I could muster up and throwing up a peace sign for good measure (you know, just to give him an example of said charm and wit). Aren’t I just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen!?!?

Don’t answer that.

“Oh, yeah,” Albus agreed sarcastically, “That’s exactly why.”

He finished the sandwich quickly, and handed it over to me before beginning on his own sandwich. Before he could so much as put the cheese on the bread, however, we were interrupted by someone bursting through the front door and into the kitchen—literally. I jumped, startled, and half the contents of my sandwich decided to dump itself on the table.

Noo, I was just about to eat you!!

I looked toward the intruder, who was zooming around the room on a broomstick excitedly, and noticed the unmistakable hair of Scorpius Malfoy. Well, if it isn’t my absolute favorite person in the world. Yeahh, sike. Scorpius Malfoy is a pervert. I really don’t know what Rose sees in him.

He slowed the broom to a stop in front of Al, grinning stupidly.

Ha. He thinks he’s so cool with his windswept blonde hair, and his crooked smile, and his sparkling blue eyes, and his lean bod, and . . .

Okay, fine. I may have some idea of what Rose sees in him, but still! Regardless of his undeniable good looks, he’s a complete weirdo who used to pick his nose in second year. It’s true, I witnessed it. And I told Rose all about it in hopes that maybe she would see the light and get over Malfoy, but no, ‘someone as hot as Scorpius Malfoy would never pick their nose’ (Rose’s words, not mine).

What a load of smelly dragon dung.

“Scorp!” Al exclaimed, throwing down his half-finished sandwich onto the counter so that he could do his secret handshake with Malfoy (which isn’t really a secret considering that everyone knows about it). You know, I’ve never seen a weirder secret handshake in my life. It consists of them slapping their hands together while jumping in the air so that they can bump their feet together at the same time. It looks weirder than it sounds, which is really testifying of something ‘cause it sounds really weird in the first place.

I tried it once. It didn’t go over well. It was Christmas time, and when I brought my feet up to meet Albus’, my right shoe flew off and knocked the tree over . . .

Look, I never said I was graceful.

“Rose isn’t here, is she?” He questioned frantically as soon as he saw me. Rose’s obsession for the bloke wasn’t exactly kept a secret and so the tosser knows all about it . . . and he makes the extra effort to avoid the girl at all costs.


No, not you. Malfoy.

“She’s at her house with the rest of the family,” Albus assured, “They’re eating dinner.”

“Then why aren’t you two over there with them?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at me when Albus wasn’t looking. I threw him the bird in response. Malfoy smirked, leaning his body against the counter leisurely, looking me up and down in the process. For the second time that day, I pulled my shirt up.

You want to know what I hate most about Scorpius bloody Malfoy? He wants me, and he wants me bad. In third year, we were both walking back from a detention (one that he brought upon us) and he pinned me against the wall and kissed me! It was the most disgusting moment of my entire life! Since then, he tries anything to get me alone so that he can try some more moves on me.


He’s icky.

What’s worse about it though, is that he hides it from everyone. In public and around his friends, he pretends like he’s disgusted with me. Well, you know what, Malfoy? You weren’t so disgusted by me when you were sticking your tongue down my throat that day in third year, you lying, skeezy ho!

“Have you changed your name yet, Goodbody?” Malfoy asked, sneering now that Albus was looking again, “You know, so it’s actually fitting to you. I mean, someone named Goodbody ought to actually have a good body.”

“Malfoy,” I cut in, rolling my eyes in irritation, “That joke is so old that it’s dead and buried next to Merlin himself.” Honestly, I bet the guy who came up with the last name was some pervert who looked at a woman and was like, ‘I deem thy name to be Goodbody because thou hast a mighty fine rack and stuff.’

Psh. Typical men.

Anywho. Back to the story.

“Aw, crap!” Albus exclaimed suddenly, patting his front and back pockets frantically, “I forgot my wand at the Weasley’s! Will you guys be okay if I walk over there real quick to get it? It’ll probably take about two minutes . . . if I don’t get stopped by my family that is.”

My eyes widened, “Eh?”

“Oh no worries, Al!” Scorpius replied, acting like he was taking one for the team by staying with me when really you know he’s dying for Al to leave. Tosser. “We’ll try not to kill each other for two measly minutes.”

“Er . . . I’d feel a bit more comfortable going over there with you, actually.”

“C’mon, Liza,” Al said, winking, “They’re probably still eating you-know-what. And Scorp’s not gonna bite.”

“That’s what you think,” I grumbled to myself.



“Great! Then I’ll be back in no time, guys!”

“Wait—Al—I really think you should stay—Come back, Al—Really, Al, come b—okay.” That was my glorious attempt at persuading him to stay as he walked out the door, leaving me with the pervert of all perverts . . . The pervert of all perverts who was currently trying to snake his arm around my waist.

“Stay away from me, Malfoy,” I threatened, pushing away from him and pulling my wand out and pointing it at his chest. Malfoy pulled his out too.

“I’m not scared of your spells, Eliza,” He said cockily, fingering his wand like he was some sort of prodigy (the only prodigy he was, was the prodigy of being the dumbest, lamest, grossest ferret that ever existed. Even his father isn’t as bad as him), “You’re good at hexing, I know, but I’m also extremely good with shielding charms.”

I groaned, stuffing my wand back in my pocket, “Whatever, Malfoy. But I’m being serious here, stay away from me.”

“But it hurts to stay away from you, Eliza.”

I mentally snorted. Actually, it was more like I mentally burst out into laughter, kicking and rolling on the floor while pointing and whatnot. It may have physically happened too, but I’m just too amused right now to really know for sure. Malfoy is perverted and cheezy. Who would have guessed? Not me, that’s for sure.

“I don’t really care.”

“But I care.”

“Yeah . . . but that still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t care. So buzz off.”



“I don’t want to.”

“Haven’t we already been through this? I don’t care.”

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“And you’re ugly all the freaking time.”

“Sassy. I like it.”

“You won’t be liking it very much when I hex your face onto your butt, now will you?”

Scorpius stared at me for a moment, probably debating with himself over whether not I was being forreal right now and then he said, “Deranged. I like it even more.”

I sneered, “What is your problem, blondie?”

Your my problem, Liz.” He stated, advancing toward me creepily.

Oh, no. He did not just go there.

My eyes narrowed to the point where they were now slits, my fist were clenched so tightly that I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, and I’m pretty sure I was baring my teeth like some sort of wild animal, “Don’t call me Liz, and don’t get any closer, Malfoy,” I let out with a growl.

He ignored me, naturally. It’s in the boy’s genes to be unbearably annoying, after all. I don’t really know what I was thinking, telling him to back off, really. Silly, naïve me.

Oh, wait.

That’s right.


When he got close enough to me that he could reach out and touch me with his arm, I pivoted and elbowed him in the gut. He doubled over immediately, clutching at his stomach. Fun fact! When Scorpius Malfoy scrunches up his face in pain, he looks like a forty-year-old woman trying to pass a kidney stone.

Yeah . . . not the greatest sight I’ve ever seen.

“What in Merlin’s name possessed you to do tha’?” Malfoy gasped out.

Maybe I should blame you on this. After all, you are the spawn of the devil.

“Your face, bonehead.”

With all that said and done, I stormed halfway out of the kitchen, turned around, grabbed my sandwich, took a bite, and continued on, raging out of the Potter household like nothing else. I was so angry, in fact, that I sent Al a rather disgruntled, demon-like, “Hey,” as I passed him by. Maybe I actually am possessed. Oh, Merlin! I’m probably going to kill people in my sleep without even realizing it now. GET OUT OF ME, YOU DEVIL CHILD!



As soon as I got to Rose’s room back at the Weasley’s, I collapsed on my bed with a huff.

“Oh, Paul,” I whined into my pillow, “You’re so lucky that you’re a fish. You don’t have to deal with annoying prats that try to seduce you all the time, or oblivious best friends who should really just get a clue . . . you’ve no idea how frustrating love can get . . .” I paused for a moment, before bolting up in the bed, “Holy shnikey’s! Or do you have an idea!? I didn’t rip you apart from your goldfish girlfriend, did I Paul!? Oh, Paul, I am so sorry! I should have noticed! You’re in love aren’t you!?”

His response was to breathe out some oxygen, causing a couple of bubbles to rise to the surface.

“It’s okay, Paul!” I told him, “I’ll fix this! I’ll get you a new girlfriend . . . and then you can have little Paul Jr.’s! Just hang in there for a couple of days so that I can write mum and tell her, okay?”

“Are you really talking to a fish right now?”

“Of course I’m talking to you, Paul,” I told him, quite offended by his snarky attitude right after I offered to find him his soul mate, “I always talk to you.”


“What, Paul?”

“Turn around, you idiot.”

“Geez, Paul, you’re really demanding today.” I answered, following his instructions and turning towards the doorway. And there stood Rose and Dominique, her strawberry blonde cousin, looking at me with rather strange looks. Oh. They were the ones talking to me, not Paul. No wonder he sounded so much like Rose.

“Where’d Al go?” Rose asked, walking to my bed and sitting on it. Dom followed her lead and sat down on Rose’s bed.

“He’s over at his house with Malfoy.”

Rose jumped up immediately, “What!?

“He’s over at his house with Mal—”

“She heard you, Eliza.” Dom cut in, sending me a look that clearly stated that I should just stop talking. I stuck my tongue out at her in reply. Dom and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms, if you haven’t already noticed.

“Rose, where are you going?” I asked, as Rose began striding to the door hurriedly.

“To see my future husband, what do you think, Liza?”

“What do I think?” I pondered out loud in a sort of sarcastic tone, “I think that sounds really creepy, and that Malfoy is a tosser.” I hesitated for a moment, contemplating, scheming. Slowly my mouth turned upwards into an evil smirk and I said, “But most of all, I think that we should wait until a little bit later to see him. Perhaps when everyone is asleep?”

Rose stopped for a moment, and I knew she was thinking through the pros and cons of my suggestion. I could see it all happening in her head. She wanted to go now because she hasn’t seen him since we got out of school, he’ll be awake and talking (and boy, does Rose go on about how she loves it when he talks . . . gag me), and she’ll be able to stare into his beautiful blue eyes or something. She wanted to go later because he’ll be asleep in his pajamas which were, presumably, just his boxers, if he’s asleep he can’t run from her, and because Rose finds him quite sexy in the moonlight.

Once again, GAG ME.

“Alright,” Rose finally agreed, reluctantly sitting back down on the bed and kicking her feet up, “Later it is, then.”

I grinned, “Don’t worry, Rose. You won’t regret this.”

Well . . . that was most likely a lie.

“Whatever is going through your heads, leave me out of this.” Dom insisted, shaking her head at our shenanigans.

“But, Dom!” Rose almost wailed, “We could use your help sneaking into the Potter’s house. You’re seventeen, after all, and it’ll be a bit tricky without any magic to help us out. Please?”


“But it’s my true love!”

“You’re not in love with him, you’re just obsessed.”

Rose scoffed, “I resent that!”

“He’s also a complete git.”

I’m beginning to like this girl. Wait, I take that back. Everyone thinks he’s a complete git. Except Rose, of course.



“We can steal the Potter’s chocolate cake while we’re over there,” I suggested, knowing exactly just how we were supposed to penetrate Dom’s cold, cold heart . . . with sugary sweets, of course. What sane girl would turn down chocolate cake?

I sure wouldn’t.

. . . Then again, I’m not exactly sane, so I’m not really sure what that was supposed to prove.

“Fine,” Dom grumbled, flipping her hair over her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest like a prude.

I controlled the urge to dance around the room in victory.

“We’re leaving at midnight, hoes!”


1:26 A.M.

“I can’t believe you fell asleep on us Dom—”

“Rose, shut up.”

“Seriously, we sat there for like an hour just trying to wake you up—”

“I fell asleep for a reason. And, you know, I don’t really appreciate how you woke me up—”

“I really don’t think you realize how loud you guys are being.”

“It was all necessary, Dom—”

“We’re going to wake up the entire house.”

“—and besides, your hair grew back after you did that spell on it—”

“Oh yeah, at least it grew back—!”

“—it’s not like we meant to catch your hair on fire, anyways.”

Dom scoffed, “Alright, then. Please tell me what you were trying to do with that fire—”

“Look, that’s not the point right now—”


Dom, who had her mouth open to snap something back at Rose, shut it and looked at me like I was crazy. Rose, who had jumped in fright, began looking around the kitchen nervously, like her parents were going to jump out and yell, ‘CAUGHT ‘CHA, HOES!’ any second now.

“Eliza!” She whispered venomously after confirming that the coast was still indeed clear, “Do you mind? You’re going to wake up the entire house, and then where would we be?”

“Are you kidding me—!?”

“Really, Goodbody,” Dom agreed, sticking her perfect little nose up at me, “You need to learn to control yourself.”

I glared at this kid like my life depended on it. The thing about Dom is that she is all dandy and flowery and happy and nice to everyone around her, but me. I really don’t get it, because I haven’t done a single thing in my life to offend her. It’s like she hates me for existing.

Well, I suppose that’s a little understandable but STILL.

“Are we going, ‘er what?” Rose quipped, tugging on our sleeves.

I rolled me eyes, pulling my sleeves down in complete seriousness (well, as serious as I can get, at least) and nodded, “Let’s do this thing, fo sho.”


*A/N: Heya! So I was really suprised that so many people liked this! It really made me happy, and I hope that this chapter lives up to your expectations or whatever. Any guesses at what's gonna happen? Leave it in a review :)

Thanks so much for all the support so far!


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