[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 3 : Impulse
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 32|
Background: Font color:
^ Magpie @ The Dark Arts :)
I feel so legit right now. You don’t even know.
I mean—look at me. I’ve got my sexy black sweater and my sexy black skinny jeans on, looking extremely sexy and extremely fly, if I do say so myself. I even went as far as putting on a black beanie, and letting Rose put black smudges on my cheeks. Dude, even my hair is black.
Rose was in all black too, but I’m afraid she doesn’t pull it off as sexily as I do. Dom is a killjoy, and wore her bright yellow t-shirt on purpose. I’d say that she wore those shorts on purpose too (you know, so that her pale legs would glow in the dark and stuff) but I don’t think she likes to admit how white she is.
As we were crawling through the Potter’s bushes, I felt completely and utterly invincible.
“’Eeep!” I squeaked, “Something is crawling in my shoe!” I jerked my leg around in attempt to shake it off, and I think I kicked Dom in the face in the process.
“Ow!” She hissed from behind me, “What the bloody hell was that for?”
“Oops,” I replied, smirking, “It was an accident. I’m sorry.”
“Focus!” Rose scolded us from the front of the line, glaring. Although I usually hated following her demands, I shut up and moved along willingly. I feel like I sort of owe it to her considering that I’m about to prank her ‘true love’ into next week. Yeah, that’s right. When Rose was busying herself daydreaming about lover boy, I snuck downstairs and stuffed some pickles, whipped cream and nütella into my sexy black sweater.
. . . Although, the nütella is more for me to eat than it is for me to use on Malfoy. I’m so glad that the Weasley/Potters have all that muggle food. Nütella is my all time favorite . . . but thats sort of besides the point.
“Rose,” Dom chimed, sounding rather annoyed, “Tell me why we are on our hands and knees in the dirt. Aren’t all the Potters’ rooms on the second floor? It’s not like they’re going to see us just walk up to their door, you know.”
“Shuddup, Dom. It’s obviously more fun this way,” I replied, making sure to step on her fingers for the third time now, “Not like you know what fun is or anything . . .”
“I’m sorry that my idea of fun doesn’t include crawling around in the mud with the bugs and the plants,” Dom snapped back, as she ‘accidently’ scratched her weirdly long nails against the exposed skin of my left ankle. I took in a sharp breath at the pain, and made sure to kick a little dirt in her face.
We finally reached the door, and we cautiously rose to a crouching position—well, except for Dom. She straightened herself out completely, stretching even. I pulled a bobby pin out of my hair, and, tongue sticking out of my mouth adorably, began to pick the lock. Dom huffed, shoving my hand out of the way, and pulled out her wand. She whispered, “Alohamora,” and the lock clicked immediately.
Way to steal my moment of glory, Dom.
Rose moved swiftly, opening the door a crack and looking through. Cautiously she opened it further, crawling into the home like a spider—stealthy, and unseen. I followed suit. Dom, on the other hand, barged into the place like an elephant—earth-rattling, huge, and extremely wrinkly. Not that being wrinkly has anything to do with her lack of sneakiness, but elephants are rather wrinkly. Sort of like her hands. And she’s sort of fat like an elephant too.
Sort of . . .
Look, I’d like to see you try to take a jab at Dom’s looks. As much as I hate to admit it (seeing as the best thing I can come up with is that her hands are wrinkly), the girl is beyond gorgeous. Just don’t tell her I ever said that. Her head is already big enough.
“Look, guys,” Dom stage-whispered, “I only came here for the chocolate cake, and I intend to get aforementioned cake. Soo, I’ll be in the kitchen. If we have to make a speedy run for it, just come get me from there, kay?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Rose said, in a rather anxious manner, waving her off impatiently, “Let’s just go already!” She pulled me away from Dom and the foyer and up the stairs quietly. Dom walked to the kitchen, ignoring our antics. We were only halfway up the staircase when we heard hushed whispering coming from the hallway on the second floor. We backed up straight against the wall so that our black outfits would blend in with the shadows. Hopefully that would be enough for us not to be seen by whoever was awake.
“Tell me why we’re doing this again?” Someone asked someone else. I couldn’t tell who it was though, because they were talking too softly.
“Because we’re bored, obviously.” Another answered.
“Excuse me?” The first one bit back, “We’re bored? No, sir. You’re bored. I was entertaining myself with this thing called sleep.”
Every moment that went by, their voices grew closer, and as they did I recognized Al’s voice. And that could only mean that the idiot accompanying him was Malfoy. I couldn’t see them at all, so I could only assume that they were under the shield of their family’s invisibility cloak.
“Sleep is for chums.” The one I presumed to be Scorpius said.
“No, sleep is for those who don’t have weird obsessions.”
I glanced at Rose, thinking about her obsession with Malfoy. And then I thought about my obsession with fish and Dom’s addiction to chocolate cake. I had to hold in my laugh as best as I could. Al was so right.
“I’m not obsessed with her.”
“Actually, I never implied a her being involved.”
There was a shuffling of feet as if someone had tripped and only just barely caught themselves, and then Scorpius whispered hastily, ignoring Albus’ comment, “It’ll be fun, okay?”
“How is Eliza chasing you around with a steel rod going to be fun? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you steal her fish.” I stopped breathing. Snapping my head up, and glancing at Rose in terror. She looked up as well, her alarmed, blue eyes glistening in the dim light coming in through the window.
“True.” Malfoy agreed, their voice growing unbearably faint. Don’t get any closer to Paul, you monster! HE’S JUST A DEFENSELESS FISH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, “But I doubt she’ll actually swing said rod if I have that dumb fish in my arms.”
He is not a dumb fish!
“Whatever flies your broom, Scorpy.”
Their voices were now right next to us, and I completely froze, hiding the pale skin of my face behind my dark hair.
“And besides,” Scorpius continued, “If you’re so objected to this, then why are you even tagging along?”
“Because I know you’re going to go down with this whether I go with you or not, and, knowing you, you’re probably not going to make as much as a scene with me being there as you would going by yourself. And plus, I want to be there when Eliza beats the living snot out of you.”
Scorpius scoffed, “I am not going to get my day wrecked by some girl.”
I resisted the urge to scoff. They were near the door now, so I probably could have gotten away with it, but I didn’t want to take the chance.
There was a chuckle, one I think coming from Albus, and then, “We’re not dealing with just some girl, Scorp. This is Elizabeth Jewel Goodbody we’re talking about. You are definitely going to get your day wrecked.”
“Alright, go ahead and act all indifferent about it. It’s your funeral.”
And that was the last we heard of their conversation, as we heard the front door creak open and then shut quietly.
There was about ten seconds of silence, and then—
“Holy mother of Merlin, he’s going to steal your fish!” Rose whispered/squealed frantically, and then continued (suddenly, in quite the dreamy manner), “Whatta a bad ass.”
I stared at her, fearing for her sanity, “Erm, I think you mean dumb ass—but whatever! That’s not even important right now. Paul’s life could possibly be on the line! We have to get back over to your house, Rosie. Pronto.”
“It’s not the first time Paul has died,” Rose pointed out, staying rooted in her stupid dark corner as I bounced around on my feet impatiently, waiting for her to move her stupid, lanky, and not to mention white legs down these stairs and out the blasted door, “In fact, he’s already died like fifteen times.”
“Fourteen—but once again, that’s not even important right now. Move your fit little bod down those steps right this instant!”
“I’m going, I’m going!” She stated. She didn’t even make it three steps before I realized something terribly obvious and grabbed her arm to stop her in her tracks, “Bleeding Merlin, what is it now, Eliza!?!??”
“Wait—” I said, “We can’t go through the front door. They’ll see us!”
“Then what do you suggest we do?” Rose snapped, irritated, “Wait around until they take Paul hostage and perform Chinese water torture on him?”
“. . . Rose, Paul lives in water.”
“That wasn’t the point, moron.”
I stopped, thinking sporadically, and then I snapped my fingers excitedly as an idea came to me, “We can go through Al’s window!”
Rose’s face lit up in excitement at the idea—that is, her face lit up in mock excitement—and she said, “Oh yeah, that sounds like a really brilliant idea, Liza. And while we’re at it, why don’t we just fall to our utter doom and DIE!?”
“We’re not going to die, Rose.” I assured her as calmly as I could—which really wasn’t that calm at all. Truth is, I’m so nervous that I’m on the verge of peeing, “There’s a bloody gigantic tree outside Al’s window. We can climb down that!”
“And how are we going to do that, exactly?” Rose asked incredulously, “I’m not a monkey! I can’t just go around climbing down trees, Eliza! It’s inhuman!”
“Look,” I started in exasperation, “The faster we get to them, the faster you get to assault Malfoy for attempting to steal my fish, okay?” I raised my eyebrow for good measure.
Rose’s mouth—which I seriously thought was going to go on forever—shut tight, and I could tell that she was thinking. Remaining safely on ground level, or jumping from the second floor window to her (possible) death just to see Malfoy? That was the question. She stared frantically between me, the front door, and the upstairs hallways at Al’s room, and then said, “What are you doing just standing there? We’ve got a tree to climb!”
I rolled my eyes, following her up the stairs and into Al’s dirty, smelly room. I went straight for the window, pushing it open effortlessly. I stuck one leg out of it cautiously and carefully climbed onto the massive branch of the tree outside his window. I turned around, looking at Rose expectantly. Her feet seemed to have glued themselves to the floor just inside of Al’s room.
“Rose will you hurry?”
“Erm—I just realized,” She began, eyeing the window as if it was about to bite her, “I may just possibly, slightly be afraid of heights.”
“You’re only telling me this now?”
“Well, I reckon even if I had told you earlier, you would somehow find a way to drag me down that blasted tree anywho.”
I huffed, shifting my feet a little on the branch, “And you’re probably right, so you might as well get your arse over here now rather than later.”
“Look, I’m sorry that I’m not as impulsive as you, Eliza, but uhh . . .”
It was getting mighty uncomfortable, standing up here on this branch. I feel like I understand the phrase ‘out on a limb’ so much better now. I shifted my feet just a smidgen more, but perhaps that was a smidgen too much because suddenly there wasn’t a branch underneath my feet anymore.
It really wasn’t that big of a fall, in fact, I’ve probably gone through bigger (in third year, I fell over the railing of the moving staircases when I was going from the second floor to third floor . . . so it was like the second floor and a half. I mean, sure there was a Professor nearby who charmed the fall to be all cushioned, er whatever, but it was still quite traumatizing).
I fell flat on my butt, squishing the pickles that I had stuffed into my sexy black camouflage. Did I mention that I fell into a bush? No? Well, I did. A pointy bush.
Well isn’t that just the icing on the cake? That is—the cake of humiliation.
I stood up, brushing leaves off of my sexy black skinny jeans and pulling a couple of twigs out of my hair. I looked towards the kitchen window and found a lovely scene of Dominique stuffing her mouth with chocolate cake. It appeared, however, that her fork had stopped halfway to her mouth when she heard the ruckus I created when I oh-so-gracefully fell into the bush.
She rushed to the window and pushed it open. I flinched back a little at the glare that was set on her features, “Are you insane!?” She hissed, “You’re going to wake up the entire neighborhood, you idiot!”
I sneered a little, “Do you honestly think I meant to fall from the second floor, Dom? I’m not that loony.”
“Where’s Rose?” Dom demanded, ignoring my comment.
At that moment, there was another loud rustle-y crash and I was happy to see Rose tangled up in the same bush I had been weaved into just a moment ago. She stood up, much like the way I did, and brushed off the debris.
“Quick, Dom,” Rose burst out, motioning for Dom to climb through the window, “We’ve gotta go! I think James woke up!”
“Oh, great.” I grumbled, “That’s just what we need right now. A blithering idiot to come barging in.”
“Who’re you calling a blithering idiot, Goodbody?” A male’s voice asked from behind Dom in the Potter’s kitchen, after a resonating crack filled the room.
“Cheese balls!” I cried. How did he get down here so fast!?
“How did you get down here so fast!?” Rose exclaimed, pointing a finger at him for who knows why. I knew we became best friends for a reason. We’re so much alike.
“Why does everyone forget that I’m old enough to apparate!?” He whined childishly.
“Maybe it’s because you act like you’re eight-years-old ninety-nine percent of the time? And the other one percent of the time you act like you’re three?” I suggested thoughtfully. Dom and Rose both nodded their heads in agreement. James scoffed.
“Look, I can run up stairs right now, send some spells into large, hefty, precariously-placed items and wake up my parents, or you guys can include me into whatever mayhem you’re brewing up.” He raised his eyebrows, “Which will it be?”
I sighed. If there was anything worse than Malfoy taking Paul captive, it’s having James Potter actually try to help. Unfortunately, him ratting on us would not be good either. But how much trouble can he create helping us beat the crap out of Malfoy?
Erm, is it just me, or was that the stupidest question I have ever asked myself?
“Okay, whatever,” I gave in, “Let’s just hurry, please.”
I feel like I’m going to regret this. No, in fact, I’m sure that I’m going to regret this. If there’s one thing I can have faith in James Potter for, it’s that he’ll always be incredibly and undoubtedly stupid. And that’s coming from ME, the definition of stupidity. I mean, I don’t think you understand, but that is truly testifying of something. Like seriously, one time he asked me if it’s like peeing your pants when your water breaks. HE IS THAT STUPID.
That’s why, for whatever he suggests on this little ‘mission’, I’m going to suggest the exact opposite.
“We should split up!” He proposed excitedly as we neared the Weasley’s home.
“Alright, everyone, we’re sticking together!” I commanded only seconds after his little exclamation.
James turned to me with a look of utmost outrage. Or, at least, I reckon that’s what he was aiming for. He looked kind of constipated actually, and I had to try extra hard to keep my laugh held within myself. But, GAH, he looks freaking funny!
“Since when have you been the leader of this particular adventure?”
“Since Rose and I overheard Malfoy plotting to steal, torture, and assumingly kill my fish.”
“It’s never too late for me to run back to my house and—”
“Fine! Let’s split up!” Rose cut in before I could open my big fat mouth.
“Yay!” He squeaked.
“B-but—” I stuttered, being cut off by Rose.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Liza,” Rose said, rolling her eyes at my childish displeasure, “Quit being a ho and accept the fact that, for once in his life, James actually came up with a good idea.”
“It’s not bloody possible!”
“James is just full of surprises,” Dom stated, becoming sort of . . . emotional? “I’m so proud of him!”
Seriously, you like this kid and not me? I’M FREAKING ADORABLE . . . and he’s kind of a flaming idiot. That’s right, not just any regular kind of idiot; a flaming one.
“I call going with Eliza!” James pronounced, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Whatever.” Dom replied, suddenly back to normal, grabbing Rose’s hand and steering her toward the back door and away from us, thoroughly ignoring my squeals of protest.
“Rose!” I called after them as quietly as I could without outright yelling, “Don’t leave me with him! He’s loony! Stop walking away from me! I thought we were supposed to be best friends you no good, rotten ho. Seriously though, please get back her—okay.”
Notice how often this happens to me?
My brain cells die just looking at this kid, and now I’m stuck with him.
Deciding that I shouldn’t let it get to me, I began my march towards the front door, only to be stopped by him as I went. I sent him an annoyed glare. Doesn’t he know that my precious fish is in mortal danger right now!?
“What?” I snapped.
“Look, Liza,” He began, sounding all sincere and slightly sarcastic at the same time, “I may not know if Al really does like you in the more-than-friendly way, but what I said this morning is true, you know. He may have worded it a bit differently, but he definitely thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
“Oh, er—” James was being (almost) sweet. This is bloody weird, “Thanks, James. That’s . . . good to hear, I guess.”
“And I know you don’t like me, because you think I’m bloody moronic and stuff—”
“That’s not completely true—”
(Notice the emphasis on ‘completely’).
“You don’t have to deny it, Eliza, I know it’s true—”
“But I do like you, James—!”
“Seriously, Eliza, it’s okay. Because I’ve decided that it’s sort of cute, the crush you have on my brother, and that I should help you. Albus is too sane for his own good; he needs someone like you in his life to keep things interesting.” He winked at me.
“Er . . . thanks?”
“Don’t mention it, Eliza. I’ve always had a soft spot for the helpless, unfortunate people anyways.”
I scrunched up my face at him, “I’m not unfortunate or helpless, thank you very much.”
He clicked his tongue a couple of times, rolling his eyes in a carefree sort of way whilst slinging his arm over my shoulder. I let it hang there for now, but if he wasn’t careful with what he said, he was going to receive a real butt-kicking, “Oh, Eliza. Eliza, Eliza, Eliza. Elizabeth. Lizzie, my friend. Eeeeee-lize-ahhh. Elizabeth—” On that last one, his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat to regain the manliness he just lost there (he didn’t have any manliness in the first place so that puts his man scale in the negatives), “You’re so naïve, I could pee.”
I scrunched my face up a little more, “I’m not sure what my naïve-ness has to do with your bladder and its need to relieve itself of its yellow liquid . . .” I realized a flaw in my words and then continued, “Especially considering the fact that I’m not naïve in the first place.”
That may have slightly been a lie, but whatever.
“First of all, you’re probably the naïve-est person I’ve ever met,” He disagreed, crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out childishly, “Second of all, you’re naïve-ness has everything to do with my bladder. And third of all, I don’t appreciate your snarky backtalk after I offered my humble services to you.”
If it’s even possible, my face scrunched up even more. This kid is insane.
“I think it’d be more helpful for me if you just didn’t help at all, to tell the truth.”
“See!” He exclaimed, sticking his finger in my face, “There you go being all naïve and downright ridiculous again.” He finally began to pull me towards the Weasley’s front door so that we could investigate and whatnot and I thanked the mighty gods because I don’t think I could take much more of James Potter talking.
I stared at him for probably five whole seconds, “James Potter, you are a tool.” At the look of outrage on his face, I continued reassuringly, “But a useful tool.”
Another lie! Call me butter, ‘cause I’m on a roll!
His crestfallen face morphed into one of pure delight as we opened the door to the house and he exclaimed quietly, “I know, right!? Thanks . . .er . . . Eliza?” His voice trailed off a bit as we crossed the threshold into the Weasley’s home. His head cocked to the side like an owl. It actually looked quite amusing. I turned to see what he was staring at, and pretty soon I was mirroring his actions.
You see, Dom and Rose were standing in the foyer, Dom looking completely apathetic and Rose pointing one bony little finger at Albus and Scorpius who were both on the stairs . . . Albus also happened to be performing the Heimlich maneuver on Scorpius.
My friends are perfectly normal, and they don’t even try to hide it . . .
Yes, that was sarcasm.
“What in Merlin’s silky black, heart-ridden boxers is going on?” I asked, slightly frightened by the entire scene.
“When they saw that we caught them, Malfoy stuffed your fish in his mouth to hide it . . . choking on it in the process,” Dom stated indifferently, staring at her nails as if they were the most interesting things in the world, as if Scorpius wasn’t clawing at his throat frantically and as if Albus wasn’t practically beating on his chest.
“WHAT!?” It was then that I noticed the tank on the ground, tipped sideways with water spilling out as if someone had just knocked it down.
James put a hand on my shoulder, “Eliza, be quiet! You’re going to wake up the whole house.”
“I don’t care!” I replied, “I don’t want my fish in his intestines, thank you very much!”
It was at that moment that Albus heaved extra hard on Scorpius’ chest and a small little goldfish flew out of Malfoy’s mouth, flying across the room until hitting the wall and slowly sliding to the floor . . . lifeless. Malfoy gasped for air rapidly, but I was barely even aware of him right now. I ran to Paul, and scooped him up in my hands. He wasn’t moving at all . . .
“MALFOY, YOU BLAZING WHORE!”
I think that’s about when I began to chase the perv around with a steel rod, waking up the whole house in the process . . .
No big deal or anything.
But the real mind-boggler? I don’t even know where I got the steel rod from.
And to top it all off, I seemed to have misplaced my nütella through this entire escapade.
Paul died again, and you’re not going to believe how this time! That idiot Scorpius Malfoy choked on him! I really wish that Malfoy could have been the one to suffocate and not Paul, but I guess you don’t always get what you want. Anyways, that’s not the point. I need another goldfish. Oh! And give him a little girlfriend too! Thanks mummy!
Lots of love and stuff,
*A/N: Don't ask what was going on in my head when I wrote this chapter. I don't even know myself. But whatever..
Love you guys!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
The Silver L...