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The Perks of Being Elizabeth Goodbody by still_fly
Chapter 6 : Twisted
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 21

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Chapter Six

“Oh God,” Rose let out in exasperation, not even attempting to obscure her voice, “They get funkier looking every damn year.”

“Miss Weasley!” McGonagall scolded from across the room, glaring daggers at Rose and jabbing her thumb viscously towards the first years as if to tell us that they could hear her. Judging by the frightened glances they’re giving Rose, I’d say that they probably could. Rose shrugged, digging her spoon into her mashed potatoes and stuffing her face full of the stuff. The truth about it all is that McGonagall is probably dying of amusement on the inside.

She loves us.

She just doesn’t like to show it.

I glazed over the gigantic room. Looking toward the Professor’s table, I noticed a young looking blondie chatting with McGonagall animatedly. My eyes popped because—hello—she’s too cute and . . . not wrinkly to be a teacher here. Other than that, all the Professors looked pretty much the same. I let in a deep breath in content.

I’m really glad to be back at Hogwarts. I’ve really missed this place. I’ve missed the Bloody Baron, that stupid trick step on the moving staircases, I’ve missed that freaky Hufflepuff in our year that always picks his nose, and most importantly I’ve missed—

“Check out Goodbody’s good body. I swear she gets more attractive every year.”

not that.

I turned to the stupid butt with a glare set on my features—I mean, seriously. Why can’t you idiots come up with a different joke?—a glare that I’m practically positive will make the poor bloke pee his pants. However, as soon as I saw the familiar smirks of my home boys, Demetrius Wood and Louis Weasley, my face softened and I sent them a playful wink.

. . . Hey, just ‘cause I’m in love with Al doesn’t mean I can’t shamelessly flirt.

“Whassup, Demi?” I asked across the table, “Weasle?”

Weasle was about to say something, but Demetrius cut him off, “I haven’t seen you in a while, Goodbody.”

“I know,” I said back to him adorably, “What in the poop is up with that?”

I think saying the word ‘poop’ there may have ruined my adorable charade. It was fun while it lasted, at least.

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could . . . get to know each other a little better sometime this week.” He winked. I was about to reject him, but then I realized how long it’s been since I’ve had a decent snog . . . plus, Demetrius is pretty cute.


I was cut off by Rose elbowing me in the stomach. I whined, turning to her with a glare, “What?”

“Have you no shame!?” She glanced at Al who was witnessing this whole thing. I rolled my eyes. Like Al cared if I was flirting with boys anyways. Or snogging them senseless for that matter.

“Not really, but neither do you.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m smart enough to warn you about this stuff!”

“So what are you saying? That I’m stupid?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Who the poop do you think you are!?”

Again with the poop.

“Your best friend.”

“Best friend’s don’t call each other stupid.”

“Best friends are truthful to one another, and honey, hate to break it ya, but that’s the brutal truth.”

“. . . Go home.”

Someone cleared their throat, cutting through our pointless conversation. I turned back to Demetrius, the one who cleared his throat, and smiled cutely at him in silent apology. Rose is just jealous that all these studs are drawn to me like . . . like . . . like . . . something that's drawn into something, something sexy (like me!).

“So is that a . . . yes?”


“Hey Eliza!”

I jumped in fright as someone put their hand on my shoulder, scooting me over so that they could sit right next to me. I looked up at the perpetrator and, surprise surprise, it was James with a large goblet of pumpkin juice and two straws.

“Watch this!” He exclaimed, sticking the straws in each nostril and blowing with all his might into his pumpkin juice. I saw bubbles rise to the top.

. . . I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

“. . . That’s really something, James . . . but I really don’t care.” I turned back to Demi, the smile back on my face. He looked completely amused so I knew I still had him, “Anyways Demi, I would lov—”

“Hey Albus!” James called to his brother, waving his arms around like an idiot to get his attention. Al turned to him with a bored expression on his face, “You wanna go to the pitch sometime this week and have a little match against me and Eliza?”


“And quite frankly, I don’t either!” I pointed out angrily with my finger in his face. I turned back to Demetrius again, “Anywho, as I was saying before this bozo interrupted me—”

“What Al? You scared of a little competition?” James asked tauntingly, leaning in front of me so that Demetrius was blocked from my sight, “C’mon you can have Rose on your team.”

“Rose sucks.”


I sent Demetrius a pleading look. He shook his head, mouthing an ‘it’s okay’ and turning back to his friends so that they could joke around and stuff. There goes my much needed snog.

“Yeah, but so do I, and I’ll proudly admit it. You afraid that you’re going to get owned by a scrawny little girl?”

“I’ll have you know that I could take his pathetic ass any day!” I defended.

“Oh really?” Al asked, suddenly amused. He raised his eyebrows playfully and smiled, and it sort of kind of made my heart melt into pudding. And I don’t think that’s even possible, that’s how great his smile is. “You’re on, Eliza. Wednesday, after lunch. Prepared to get the floor mopped with you.”

I squeaked, “But that would ruin my hair!”

“He didn’t mean it literally, idiot.” Dom sneered from her seat across from us and next to her brother. I had almost forgotten that the skank was still with us.

“. . . Go home.”

“Is that your come back to everything?” Rose asked, giggling.

“You can go home too!”

“Whatever, Eliza.”

It was then that I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“What!?” I snapped at James.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” He snapped right back. I hesitated for a moment, surprised at his tone of voice. Is it just me, or does it seem like James is angry at me right now? Isn’t he the kid who basically worships me all the time? Or is that Professor Flitick? I shrugged it off, deciding that his anger wouldn’t stop me from being a complete git.

“What does it look like we’re doing? The Macarena?”

“Can I talk to you privately?” He amended.

“How would we even do that? We’re in the middle of a bloody feast and we’re not allowed to le—okay.”

He put his right hand on the small of my back, his left on my head and pushed me with all his might underneath the table. I stumbled on my way down and my face collided with some dude’s extremely hairy legs. Don’t the guys usually wear pants?—Oh, wait. That’s a girl.

“. . . Sorry,” I mumbled to her as she looked under the table to see what the hubbub was. I even held back my gagging, which is a major accomplishment, I think.

James was soon underneath here as well, and I glared at him.

“Are you insane?” I asked him heatedly, “You don’t just go around pushing people underneath tables and into some man-woman’s extremely hairy legs.”

“Who’re you calling a man-woman?” The girl asked angrily, her head popping underneath the table again.

Erm . . . I may have said that a little louder than I should have. Oopsie.

“You,” James told her angrily and slightly obliviously too—I mean, this girl looks like she could beat me to a pulp. Whatever a pulp is, “Obviously. Now, can you excuse us? We’re trying to have a private conversation here.”

This girl was all up in my grill now, her slimy nose was practically touching mine and she was glaring at me with the same intensity I usually save so that I could glare at Malfoy. I looked away from her eyes, whose eyelashes could seriously use some mascara, and I noticed that her fists were clenched like she were about to punch me in the face.

Thanks James. You've given me another hater.

I already have enough as it is!

“You wanna try saying that again?” She inquired venomously.

“I thought I told you to beat it!” James cried, poking her in the back viciously.

Honestly James, you suck at being an overprotective older bro. If anything, you’re just putting my life in more danger as the seconds go on.

“Oh, I’ll beat it,” She glanced at me, her eyes angry and her smirk completely sinister, “Just give me two minutes.”

“Don’t make me use this!” James practically shouted, holding out his straw like a sword.

“I’m not afraid of your stupid straw.” She told him smoothly. She snatched the straw right out of his hand and stuffed it in her mouth, eating it . . . like it was cake or something. Oh my god! That’s probably what she’s going to do to me! My worst fear is going to become a reality! I’M GOING TO BE EATEN ALIVE BY SOME CRAZY MAN-WOMAN CANNIBAL.

Have mercy on me here, Merlin!

Think about this, please.

Do I really deserve this?

. . . No one answer that. And yes, that means you too.

“Ha!” James exclaimed almost joyfully. “You think you got the best of me there, didn’t you? Well little do you know, sweetcheeks, that I’ve got two straws!” And with that, he pulled the other straw from who knows where, stuck it in his mouth, aimed towards the psycho man-woman and blew a spitball right into her left eye.


Her manly hands flew to her eyeball, rubbing frantically in attempt to sooth it.


“What is going on here?” A stern voice asked, peeking their grey, wrinkly head underneath the table. I smiled weakly at McGonagall, waving pathetically. I only now noticed how the Great Hall had become completely silent except for the scene that was brewing underneath this table. Everyone at the table had their own heads stuffed underneath here to watch Elizabeth Goodbody—once again—make a complete fool of herself.

“I dropped . . . my straw?” I said dolefully, snatching the straw from James’ mouth.

“That’s my straw!”

“Not anymore it’s not—”

“Detention. All three of you. And someone take Elizabeth to the hospital wing.”

“But I don’t need to go to the Hospital Wing, Micky.” I pointed out.

“Not you,” She replied, acting completely annoyed—acting being the key word there. She loves me, as I have already told you. She nodded to the man-woman, “Her name is Elizabeth too. Don’t you know that, Goodybody? You’ve had numerous classes with her over the years.”

“Er . . .”

James snickered.

“What’s so funny?” I inquired snootily.

“You have the same name as . . . her.” James snickered again.

I punched him in the nose.

. . . At least I started off the school year with a bang.


“What was all that about, exactly?” Albus asked as we made our way to the Gryffie common room. James was with us, clutching his nose—which was bleeding by the way—in fury. He insisted that he should go to the hospital wing as well, but McGonagall insisted that he deserved it and that he should just suck it up.

Oh, good ol’ McGonagall.

“James was being an idiot.” I stated simply.

“Wasb nob!” He cried, “I wasb goin’ to balk to you aboub somebing of exbreme imporbance unbil we were rudely inberrupbed!”

“What?” Rose asked playfully, “Were you too going to plan out when you were going to snog again . . . or something?”

“Oh dear, Merlin.” I said, smacking my hand to my forehead, “For the last time! I have never and will never snog James Potter. I don’t even want to think about it.” And of course, just saying that made the very disgusting image come to my mind. Out of pure distaste, goose bumps trickled down my arms. I cringed.

“Riiiight.” Rose agreed in such a way that told me blatantly that she did not agree at all.


We said the password to the Fat Lady once we approached her, and climbed through the godforsaken hole. We immediately migrated toward the couch and the armchairs so that we could relax, kicking the stupid first years off of them.

“Can I just ask a question?” Al said, sort of softly, “If you guys aren’t secretly in love with each other . . . then why do you guys suddenly talk to each other like you’re good ol’ pals?” He leaned forward in his armchair, placing his head on his fists and staring at us intently. I glanced sideways at James.

“Well . . .” I began, deciding to be truthful—or slightly truthful at least, “I really don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause I’ve always wanted someone to be like a brother to me . . . and James offered that in an idiotic yet sweet way.”

“. . . Am I not like a brother to you?”

My eyes popped.

“Erm . . . well, you see—I-I, y-yes—n-no?” I don’t even know what the crap I was saying at this point, “You’re my best friend, Albus. There’s a difference.”

“Is there really?”

More than you freaking know.

“Hey Rose!” James asked so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him, “Leb’s go to the kibben! I’m hungry.”

“Alright . . . fatty.”

They got up and left us there, just staring at one another. Why, oh why, was it so impossible to read Al’s eyes. They’re so green and open. But they’re not empty. So why couldn’t I decipher his thoughts like I can with Rose, or-or James? His own brother?

“This is awkward.” I blurted.

“Is it?” He asked, “I didn’t notice.”




“Well now it is,” He said, chuckling, “Thanks a lot, Liza.”

I smiled, “No problamo.”

We laughed a little, and when it faded away into the fireplace, Albus smiled at me softly. “You know,” He said, reaching over to mess up my hair, “I’m glad I’m not like a brother to you, ‘cause you’re not like a sister to me either. You’re just my best friend too.”

My heart, which had sped up a little bit, sank. Just a best friend, but not a sister?

What the heck was that supposed to mean?

“Well,” He started, pausing so that he could sneak in a yawn, “I’m tired. Today wore me out.” He stood up and pulled me with him so that he could engulf me in a farewell hug, “Goodnight Liza. See you tomorrow in class . . . and good luck with detention.” He let go and walked towards the boy’s staircase and ascended them.

“Good night . . .” I zoned for a little bit just to make sure that he was completely out of earshot, and then moaned out of frustration, “Murglalumpffarum.”

“Feelin’ obay bere, Elifa?”

“AHHHH!” I threw a pillow in the air which hit a third year in the head, and my uncontrolled spazzing hands smacked the creeper in the face.

“Geez,” They said, grabbing their nose, “Will you stop attacking my face? It reels the ladies in, and I’d like to keep it that way.” It was James, and he seemed to be talking normally once again. I guess hitting him once gave him a speech impediment, and hitting him a second time made it all better. Go figure.

“Puh-lease,” Rose, who was right at his heel, laughed pointing at him in pure amusement, “You haven’t had a girlfriend since your fourth year. And the only reason you got one then is because the girls were daft enough to fall for your obvious stupidity. But, unlucky for you, they’re smarter now.”

“Were you guys listening in on that?” I cried, not even letting James give Rose a proper comeback . . . not that he could even think of one anyways. I was absolutely appalled right now.

“Pretty much.” Rose said, plopping down on the couch beside me, “You didn’t actually expect me to go down to the kitchens at an ungodly hour such as this?”

“It’s only ten.” James said.

“Ungodly for me. But really, did you?” She turned back to me in all seriousness.

“Well no,” I admitted, “But I didn’t think you guys would go as low as to listen in on something private.”

“I guess you don’t know our family very well.”

“Touché.” Because I wanted the upper hand in this failing (on my part) argument, I smacked her across the face playfully, but at the same time I was being completely serious. She gasped in outrage and pulled my hair as hard as she possibly could. In response, I gave her a wet willy.

“You guys fight too much. It’s unhealthy.”

“Your face is unhealthy.” I bit back smartly, pulling my pinky out of Rose’s ear. Yeah, that’s right. You best believe that I’m the master of comebacks.

“Er . . . okay.” He said, scratching his head, “Anyways, I kind of sort of never got to speak with you about that extremely important thing I was going to speak with you about.”

“Alright, shoot.”


I blinked.

“Just because I’m on a diet doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu.”

Rose smacked her hand to her forehead. James just stared at me with his mouth hanging open. I shrugged; they should know that this is just who I am and, until I get into a serious relationship (particularly with Al), I’m still going to be a horrible flirt. Why put my incredibly good looks to waste?

“You’re one twisted little girl.” James mumbled.

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Let’s just go to bed before I have an aneurism please?” Rose pleaded, her hand still glued to her forehead. I nodded, standing up and pulling on her wrist so that I could drag her to the staircase that leads up to our dormitory.

“See ya later, alligators.” James called, waving.

“Don’t say that ever again,” I told him rudely, embarassed that he even thought of speaking such of phrase, not to mention actually speaking it. What loser says that anyways? “Nighty night!”


“Excuse me,” Someone tapped me on the shoulder the next day. I turned away from my morning eggs to find that blonde girl who was with McGonagall yesterday looking at me expectantly. I gave her a once over and decided that, not only was she too young looking to be a teacher here, but too leggy . . . and cute, “Are you Elizabeth Goodbody?”


She quirked an eyebrow at my answer.


Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of freak . . . you’re the freak, you young and cute looking Professor (that just never happens!).

“Okay . . .” She began, her voice like bells. Merlin, this girl was like an oversized Barbie doll (Rose showed me what that was back in third year by stealing the three-year-old next door’s dolls and then blasting them to smithereens with a flick of her wand . . . she also got a notice from the Ministry that if they ever caught wind of her doing magic outside of school again that she would be expelled. I don’t know why people think she’s so smart, that Rose . . . she has her stupid moments) it was actually beginning to freak me out, “Well, McGonagall is busy passing around timetables and she wanted me to talk to you.”

“I’m all ears.”

I don’t understand that expression. My ears are very small compared to the rest of my body, thank you very much.

“Well, basically she wants you put into the seventh year Transfiguration course instead of the sixth year one. She says that you don’t have to if you don’t want to but that you should highly consider it. Oh and she said that, ‘despite your uncanny knack at disrupting class and being unhealthily lazy, that you actually possess some talent when it comes to Transfiguration.’ Her words, not mine.”

“What!?” Rose cried in outrage from across the table, “Eliza! You can’t ditch me for an advanced class! If anything I should be ditching you for an advanced class!”

“Thanks, Rose. And I’m not completely stupid, okay?” I bit back with as much sassiness as I could muster up. Who does she think she is, insulting my intelligence? I turned back to Barbie, “I’ll do it.”

“Great.” She said, not even trying to conceal her lack of enthusiasm. She began to walk away but stopped as if she forgot something, “Oh, and here’s your timetable.” And then she walked away for real this time.

“Oh hey,” I said point at the timetable, “I’ve got Micky first thing! What a coincidence!”

“Yo muthafrizzles,” Someone exclaimed from behind me. I jumped in fright at the sound of James’ voice. He sat next to me and ripped the timetable right out of my hands, “Why are you in seventh year Transfiguration?” He asked after a second of examining it.

“Because I’m smart.”

Al snickered, “Good one.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and threw the rest of my bagel his way, aiming for his forehead. Little did he know, however, that my insides were bubbling like carbonated sodas from just the smile he sent my way after successfully blocking the bagel with his hand.

“Hey Micky-G!” James yelled to McGonagall, waving his hands around like an idiot, “Can I get my timetable over here? And make it snappy! Thanks.” McGonagall glared at him from across the room but nonetheless brought over his timetable, along with Al’s and Rose’s. She left, muttering something about ‘ungrateful twerps’, “Hey Liza! We have Transfiguration together! Yayy!”

“That’s super awesome, James.”

Except not really.

“Hey guys!” Another voice exclaimed. I looked and this time it was Malfoy making his way over to us. He sat down next to Al, exchanging timetables.

“Malfoy, don’t you have your own table to sit at?” I wondered out loud, looking pointedly towards the Slytherin table, “I know we’re cool and all, but you kind of annoy the living snot out of me.”

He snorted, handing Al back his timetable and then snatching mine right from my hands. He scanned it for a moment before replying, “Don’t flatter yourself, Goodbody. You’re not as cool as you think you are, to tell the truth. And I know I annoy the living snot out of you; that’s why I’m over here . . . And to look at your guys’ timetables. See you in Divination, Goodbody.”

And then he left to go sit back down at his own table.

I think that was probably the briefest confrontation I’ve had with Malfoy yet.

Well, I’m not complaining.

Wawawawawait a second. Back up a little, please and thank you.

“Please tell me you guys are taking Divination as well.” I grabbed all their schedules, searching through them frantically. But it was no use; none of them were taking it.

Bleeding hell.

“Good luck, Eliza.” Al told me, looking into my eyes sincerely. It kind of gave me the impression that he knows a lot more about Malfoy than he was letting on. Probably did, now that I think about it. Malfoy is one of his best friends after all.

I glanced at Malfoy as he sat back down at the Slytherin table and gave him the best sneer I could muster up. He saw it and only winked in reply.

The nerve of the fellow.

I sighed.

I have a feeling that I’m never gonna be able to catch a break this year.


*A/N: I read over this chapter when I was done writing it and I've decided that it was utter crap. Even I didn't know what was going on in it. Hopefully you guys did. It'd probably be best if I rewrote this chapter, but I was pretty excited about giving you something from me considering that I've been sucking at updates lately.

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