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Welcome to the Chase by dream_BIG
Chapter 17 : chapter.seventeen Wild.
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 77


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there should be a chapter image here. i have one ready..but don't feel like uploading it yet. so if you wanna see someone, just let me know :) and i'll put that up here.

kay, cool. 

wow...i'm really lazy.





“Oh my god, I’m freaking out!” Rose screamed at the top of her lungs as she sprinted out of her bathroom, wearing nothing but her bra and knickers and waving her arms around like a demented loony. 



“You don’t have to state the obvious, Rosie, we can all tell,” I said nonchalantly, barely looking up from Quidditch Through the Ages.

Merlin, I wish I understood what this bloody book is going on about.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Rose moaned.

We have such a beautiful friendship – I ignore her, and in turn, she ignores me right back. It’s a wonderful relationship, really.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows, surveying Rose. “You should just go in that. Malfoy’ll go insane.”

Me and Rose both turned around to shoot her dirty looks, but she merely grinned and dropped back down onto the bed, her dark hair poofing up around her head.

“Ariadne,” Rose whined, walking over to my bed and prodding my leg, “I really need your help. This is your cousin! You should know what he likes!”

“He likes big boobs and big arses,” I informed her flatly without looking up, “which, thankfully, you have. Just wear something that enhances those particular features and you’re good to go.”

Rose fumed for a couple of seconds. “I’m not going dressed as a bloody slag, Ree!”

“But that’s what Scorpius likes,” I said innocently.

Her eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to put me off of your cousin.”

“No,” I corrected. “I’m trying to put you off of changing yourself to become something he likes. Because then I’m pretty sure he won’t like you anymore.”

That made no sense whatsoever. Then again, this is Scorpius we’re talking about.

Rose seemed to debate on whether she should be flattered or annoyed, her face assuming the expression of someone going through excruciating constipation. Finally, she let out a sigh, plopped down on my bed and scooted over so that she could throw her arm around my waist and bury her face in my stomach like a little kid hugging her mommy. “I still don’t know what to wear,” she pouted.

“Okay, first,” I said, putting away my book with a resigned sigh, “get off of me before someone comes in and thinks we’re lesbians. Second, get off of my bed before someone comes in and thinks we’re lesbians. Third –”

“Do you have a point that doesn’t involve people coming in and thinking we’re lesbians?” Rose asked in a weary voice, not budging.

“Yes. Third, you’re annoying. Fourth, get off of me so that I can go look for some clothes for you before someone comes in and thinks –”

“Yes, thank you!” she squealed, dragging me off of my bed and to her closet. She stood eagerly off to the side, watching me as I scrutinized the neat row of nice, boring clothes.

“Do you own anything that isn’t so…”

“Nerdy? Bland? Completely and totally unflattering?” Emma suggested from next to me as she also peered at Rose’s clothes.

“I agree with Emma,” I said.

“Bitches,” Rose muttered, crossing her arms and glaring at us. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I do own nice clothing. I just choose not to wear it.”

“Well, you may want to start now,” I said.

“But I like wearing comfortable, conservative things!” Rose protested.

“Yes, but, unfortunately, no one wants to date ‘comfortable and conservative’,” Emma told her.

“But Ariadne told me that I shouldn’t change who I am for –”

“That doesn’t mean you should go dressed as an old lady!” I cut across, tossing my hands up in the air.

Rose pouted.

“Look, you can wear nice clothes and still look classy!” Emma said enthusiastically, stepping forward so that she could dig through Rose’s closet. “Like, see – these skinny jeans. They’ll look great for your legs and arse, and they’ll still cover everything up.”

“Perfect,” I added, taking the jeans from Emma’s grasp and throwing them at Rose.

“And,” Emma’s muffled voice echoed back up to us from the depths of the closet, “since it’s bloody Scotland, you’ll probably be cold, but you could take a plain shirt and match it up with like, a cardigan and a scarf and maybe even some cute jewelry!”

Did anyone understand that? Yes? Really? Well, I didn’t. I think this says a lot about my femininity.

After dressing Rose in a deep blue v-neck shirt (“But – but – it’s too low! If I bend down, Malfoy can look right up my boobs!”), a light grey cardigan (“This useless piece of clothing does nothing to cover me up. What’s the point of this, again?”), some jewelry from Emma’s vast collection (“I swear, if this is a real peacock feather, I will go psycho on your arse, Emma.”), and a pair of gladiator shoes (“But they’ll make my toesies cold!”), we decided that Rose was a boring, whiny Barbie and left her at her own devices when it came to handling her hair and makeup.

So Rose did what Rose does best. She screwed it all, fluffed up her hair a bit, and decided that she no longer cared if she looked shitty.

Which she didn’t, obviously, but Emma found it necessary to go back on her previous declarations of ‘do-it-yourself-you-annoying-git’ and forced Rose down into a chair for hair and makeup.

“And while I’ve already got my supplies out, I could also do something with you, Ariadne!” Emma said cheerfully as she put eyeshadow on Rose, ignoring her muffled cries of protest.

That’s when I left Emma at it and sprinted downstairs to the Common Room.

Let’s just say that I don’t fancy getting Petrificus Totalus’d anytime soon, thanks.

“Ariadne! There you are!” Burly said cheerfully once I had managed to trip over the third step and go on a fun Ariadne-Tumble to the Common room.

“Eurgh.”

“Good to see you too. Is Rose ready?”

“My back. My arm. My arse. Paaaain.”

“Brilliant. Me, Al, Nicky, Russell, Lily, and…Dom,” he took a second to sigh in happiness, “are going to follow Rose and Malfoy around on their date. Wanna come?”

“Leave them alone,” I said angrily, staggering upright and rubbing my sore butt, “Scorp isn’t going to do anything bad.”

“I know that,” Burly grinned. Then he leaned in, “It’s a part of the Plan, Chase.”

I smiled slowly. “Oooh. I get it. Smart, Burly.”

He shrugged, looking pleased with himself.

***

“Are you guys on a quadruple-date?!”

The eight of us looked around in alarm at the lady who had sneaked up on us and was now watching us rather eagerly.

I exchanged a confused glance with Blondie, who was sitting next to me. “Er…”

“Because if you are, we have a discount!”

OH MY GOD, I LOVE DISCOUNTS!

“Yes!” I said enthusiastically. “Yes, we are. Now, about this discount –”

“Could you guys arrange yourselves so I know who’s dating who?” she asked, looking apologetic. “Usually I’m really good at figuring these things out, but right now I’m at a total loss.”

Looking too thrilled for words, Burly immediately flung his arm around Dom, who flinched visibly. Blondie inched closer to Lily, and Blue Eyes moved so fast that Emma had to blink a couple of times to adjust to him suddenly being next to her.

Al looked at me. I smiled weakly at him.

Holy Merlin, my life is made.

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, he shuffled over next to me and put his arm over the back of my chair. I tried not to scowl as I turned over to the lady again.

“So, what’s the discount?” I asked her.

“Half price!”

Hell yes.

“Great!” I said happily. “I’ll have the Caramel Latté.”

“Make that two,” Al said from next to me.

DUDE ANOTHER THING IN COMMON WE SHOULD GET MARRIED.

I turned to creep on Rose and Scorpius again as everyone put in their orders. So far, Scorpius (to my extreme relief and pride) had been a perfect gentleman, managing to keep his pratty side to a minimum. He’d picked her up at eleven sharp (I think he even actually came early, which is huge for Scorpius, who likes to make his dates wait for half an hour before he finally shows up to make them “appreciate” him), handed her a single red rose (which Rose grinned wildly at, since she thinks it’s adorable when people give her roses. I think it’s disgustingly cliché. I usually get slapped for my input), and told her that she looked, and I quote, “Wow…you’re…wow.”

Rose immediately turned cherry red. Sexy.

He then offered her his arm (I think it was around this time that I burst out laughing and Emma had to put a silencing charm on me) and walked her to Hogsmeade, opening every door for her and letting her go first whenever they got to an entrance without a door. He even glared at Filch when he assaulted – I mean, performed a security check on Rose.

I’m seriously waiting for something to go wrong. Nothing can honestly be that perfect. It’s abnormal.

“Get your slimy arm off my baby sister, get your slimy arm off my baby sister, get your slimy arm off my baby sister –” Al muttered furiously from next to me, glaring threateningly at Blondie. Blondie, however, was completely oblivious to this, as he was sitting with his arm casually draped over Lily, chatting merrily with her as though this was a normal, everyday occurrence.

Al’s hand was inching towards his wand.

Oh, dear lord.

“Al Potter, don’t you dare make a scene right now,” I hissed, slapping his hand away from his pocket.

“He’s got his arm around my baby sister!” he shot back, appalled and indignant.

“I can see that. She seems to be okay with it, too,” I said.

“Of course she’s okay with it. Doesn’t mean I am, though,” he said darkly.

“And since when have you controlled your sister’s life?” I asked angrily.

“Since me and James decided that no one’s allowed to touch her until she’s thirty.”

Merlin’s lacy pink knickers.

(Which I dearly hope he never had.)

“He’s only got his arm around her!”

“Yeah, and you know what that leads to?” Al asked, turning to me with wide eyes.

I looked at him as though he was insane. “No.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what it leads to.”

“Please, do enlighten me.”

“It leads to snogging. And then shagging. And then, BAM!” he said loudly, and I jumped violently, “Lily’s pregnant and he’s run off with some blonde bimbo!”

There was a second of silence while I stared at him incredulously.

“Don’t you think that’s a little melodramatic?”

“Of course it’s not!” he said crossly.

Merlin, I think I’m in love with a psycho.

Hey, look! Another thing in common! This is the part where we get married!

“Al, that’s not going to happen,” I said firmly.

“How do you know it won’t?” he asked.

“How do you know it will?” I countered.

“Because that’s what guys do!” he said. “We’re absolute pigs, Ariadne! We go around, breaking hearts and making girls pregnant –”

“So you’re saying that’s what you do, too?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

He looked scandalized. “Pfft, no.”

“Then what makes you think Blondie’s going to?”

His mouth hung open for a second. “Well – because – because – I just…know, okay?!”

“Al, please be realistic –”

“OH MY GOD! MY EYES!” Burly shrieked suddenly, shielding his eyes with his hand. Me and Al looked around in alarm, pulled out of our conversation bubble rather rudely as we stared at Burly, whose eyes were screwed up as he tried to cover Dom’s as well.

“I don’t want you seeing that, my precious love, you’ll get traumatized –”

“Get off of me, you freak!”

…this might be harder than I thought.

I turned to Blondie, whose mouth was hanging wide open. “What’s –” but he grabbed my chin and turned me around so that I was looking right at…

Holy crap.

Blue Eyes, for some reason only Merlin knows, had leaned over in his conversation with Emma and kissed her firmly on the mouth. His eyes were closed and he looked quite content, but Emma’s were wide open in shock and something that looked strangely like…fear?

“He should not have done that,” Lily said in a low voice, her eyes wide as she looked at Emma. “Merlin, he really should not have done that.”

Dom and Burly were still fighting over whether or not she should have her eyes shielded.

Then, suddenly, Emma pushed Blue Eyes off of her, seemingly coming out of her frozen, shocked state. There was a second of hushed trepidation around the table, then, she got up and abruptly left the table, something scarily like hurt showing in her eyes. As she ran out the door, she wiped a tear off of her face.

We turned to look at Blue Eyes, who had slumped over onto the table and buried his face in the tablecloth rather pitifully.

“Fuck.”

I dropped my head into my hands. Why, Blue? Why?!

“Mate,” Al said quietly, leaning over and putting his hand on Blue’s shoulder. Everyone turned to look at me as I got up. I bit my lip.

“Sorry,” I told them, grabbing my coat and following Emma out the door. I guess my first date with Al Potter will have to wait.

Or, you know…actually happen.

“Emma!” I yelled as I chased after her down the street, ribbons of dark hair flying freely behind me, “Emma! Wait!”

But she kept running, pushing through the crowd, hugging her coat tightly around her as she fought to get away.

“Emma!” I screamed in exasperation. I pushed through two particularly large witches and turned wildly on the spot, trying to see where she had gone.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Suddenly, I saw a flash of her deep blue peacoat near the road leading towards Hogwarts. Bingo. Sighing as I pumped my legs forward again, I ran after her as fast as I could go. I caught up with her right before she ran through the gates, grabbing her arm and spinning her around so that she faced me. I was shocked to see that tears were streaming down her face.

“What?” she asked me angrily. “What do you want?”

I dropped her arm, shocked. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay –”

“WELL I’M NOT!” she screamed, and I flinched. “I’M NOT OKAY!” Letting out another short shriek, she kicked at the ground furiously, kicking up one of the cobblestones. It clattered away and she started sobbing. “Why did he do it?”

I touched her arm tentatively. “Emma, love, why are you so upset? It’s –”

“Don’t you dare say it’s not a big deal, because it is,” she snarled through her tears, “I want to know why the fuck he did that.”

I stared at her. “Why wouldn’t he want to? He likes you –”

“Don’t – lie to me!” she said loudly, flinging my hand off of her arm.

“I’m not lying to you!” I shouted, finally pissed.

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not!”

She turned around and started running again, back up towards the castle.

Bloody – “EMMA, STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM ME, GOD DAMN IT!”

Letting out a short scream of pure frustration, I ran after her again. Merlin, why do I always find the need to surround myself with melodramatic people? I couldn’t have found friends that were – oh, I don’t know – normal, perhaps?

Of course not. Instead, I find Skippy, Freak and Bloody Twat. Plus a variety of others who I don’t feel like giving derogatory names at the moment, because I’m too bloody tired.

Eight staircases, twenty-three prods with Filch’s detector (most in places that would be grounds for sexual assault), three Ariadne-Tumbles and half an hour later, I stood panting in the doorway of the girl’s dormitory, ready for blood.

Emma’s blood, specifically.

Which is burrowed underneath her covers in an obvious attempt to get people to leave her alone.

Well, tough. I’m tactless, bloody proud of it, pissed, tired and still in pain from Filch’s assault. I’m not in any mood to give two shits about personal space and general manners.

Hell, I’m not in the mood to give even one shit. Or half a shit. Or any portion of a shit.

Either way, I don’t bloody care.

“Emma Summers, stop being a prat and come out of that bed now, otherwise I will demolish it cruelly and painfully.”

Emma stuck her face out and gave me a tired look. “I can’t believe you followed me all the way up here.”

“I can’t believe you bloody ran away from me,” I seethed.

“I wanted to be left alone,” she said flatly.

“Well, we all want things. Life isn’t fair.” I of all people know this too well.

She let out a resigned groan and climbed out from under her covers, sitting cross-legged on her bed. “What?”

“I want to know why you thought I was lying to you,” I said, walking over and sitting in front of her on the bed.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Stupid question, Ariadne. He’s Russell Cowen, the fucking Chaser on the fucking Gryffindor Quidditch team. He’s fucking hot, he’s fucking popular, and he fucking just kissed me.

Why do all my friends find the need to curse up an F-Storm every time they’ve been pissed off? Does this say something about my pattern of friend-preferences? I think it does. I feel like this is a direct reflection of my personality and I should be worried.

Meh.

Maybe tomorrow.

“So what if he’s hot and popular?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “That shouldn’t have anything to do with this, Emma.”

“But it bloody has everything to do with this,” she spat, hitting her hands against her mattress.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that, up until very recently, I had no friends, Ariadne! I’m not the type of person who can…mix with other people. I’m not comfortable with it, at all. I’m comfortable with being alone and having to keep to myself. Even when we started being friends I felt weird, like I had to try and…I don’t know. It just feels odd and unnatural because I don’t know how,” she got out, stumbling over her words in her frustration, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to be the type of person who’s outgoing and comfortable and friendly and funny – it’s just not who I am!”

“That’s how you’re seeing you,” I said. “I think you’re funny and pretty and nice and smart and a pretty damn good friend, and I know that everyone else does, too.”

“But it doesn’t make sense!” She insisted.

“And why the bloody hell not?” I demanded. “You’re funny. You’re really nice. You’re really good at Quidditch, you’re smart as hell, you somehow know how to fix any situation, somehow – God, Emma, you’re the reason Rose looks halfway decent today! You don’t give yourself enough bloody credit.”

“Then why did he –”

Because he likes you!” I cried, getting thoroughly worked up. I had progressed to waving my arms around to express my sentiments, my cheeks tinged red and my hair whipping around. In short, I looked like a hyperactive, demented loony.

Attractive, I know. I do try.

Actually, I don’t. This level of pure sex-bomb just comes to me naturally. What can I say? I’m a gifted person.

“If he likes me, it’s probably only because –”

“He’s liked you since forever,” I cut across coldly. “So don’t even go there.”

“But – but – why?!”

“OH MY GOD, WHY BLOODY NOT?!”

I think I’m developing hypertension.

Emma let out a long scream and fell backwards onto her bed, pulling her pillow over her head. “I don’t get it!” she shrieked into the fabric.

“And I don’t know how to get you to bloody believe me!” I shot back to the pillow. Emma didn’t respond, so I jumped off of her bed, glared darkly at the pillow, then paced around angrily for a couple of minutes. Bloody – annoying – little – chit. GAH.

Electricity and irritation was blazing through my body, running my nerves on high power and giving me blasts of energy. I just couldn’t sit still. Something about Emma’s stubbornness and her ornery blindness sort of just – ticked me off, and I just – ugh, so mad. I wanted to pull that bloody pillow off of her head and scream at her to bloody understand, you fucking idiot, WHY CAN’T YOU SEE THE DAMN TRUTH?!

I hate it when people are oblivious to the truth. That’s all my life has been consisting of, really. My parents, not wanting to face up to the truth. Aphrodite. Al. Rose. Scorpius. Dom (because she really does like Burly, deep down in there somewhere. Er…very deep down). Just – gah.

The truth is there, the truth is going to stay there, so grow some balls and deal with it.

Yeah, you just got told. That’s right. Whatcha gonna do? That’s right, fool. Nothing. Why? Because I am a fucking beast and – oh my god, I need to get out of here before I completely go mental.

I whirled around and launched myself at my closet, changing with fast, jerky motions into a pair of shorts and a tank top. I turned towards my bed, stopping short, disconcerted for a second at the wrapped object lying on it. For a second, I was thrown off my odd, mind-clearing high. Stepping towards it, I ripped it open to find…a broomstick?

What the hell?

I sifted through the paper and found a note –

Ariadne –

Mum and dad think it’s bloody brilliant that you’re on the House Team, and dad insisted on buying you a new broom. Apparently, Malfoys don’t fly on school broomsticks. It’s “undignified”. (I can see you rolling your eyes at that one. I did, too). I can’t bloody believe he bought you the Firebolt 360 – I had half a mind to steal yours and replace it with my Firebolt 270, but I guess you deserve it.

Prove me wrong, Ree.

 – Scorpius.

I bloody love that kid. Grinning wildly, I held the broomstick with one hand and I could practically feel it humming under my fingers.

Without thinking, I opened the window, got on the broom, and launched myself out of the window and onto the pitch, not caring that it was cold, just wanting something to douse me with a dose of reality. I’m tired of this whole ‘sitting around and seeing what happens’ shit. Let’s see what I can do once I put my head into it.

World, Welcome to the Chase.

And while you're at it, be afraid.




ooh, look at Ariadne, being all assertive and insane! i'm so proud of my little girl now <3 i discovered today that i can be really bitchy when i'm pissed off, and i do it damn well, too. i was surprised, since i usually am not capable of saying something even remotely rude. my friend was looking at me all "dude...remind me to never get on your bad side."

hell yeah.

so anyway! this is the last chapter of the spreee D: but it's okay, since i've got chapter 18 almost completely done. get excited, Sleazy comes back :D i love Sleazy, in a 'omg-you're-creepy-i-hate-you' kinda way. it's a complicated thing to explain. 

i'm thinking the story is going to be around thirty chapters, give or take a couple. i don't want to rush the ending...i mean, come on! Ariadne hasn't even had a Quidditch game yet! but that'll also be soon, i'm thinking. 

anyway...please review! i love to hear what you guys think :) and favorite quotes ftw.

peace, bros.


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