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Chapter 6 : Lovely Messes and Not a Lot of Creativity
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 4|
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I have lost the ability to form coherent thought due to the extreme amount of shock I’m going through. Somebody pinch me.
“My parents are forcing me to marry someone by the time I seventeen. This person has to be pureblood, rich, and an aristocrat. And, if I don’t pick someone whom I want to marry and who meets the requirements, I'm going to marry my second cousin. He's a nice kid and everything, but I don't love him. I just like him like I would like a brother, and I think it's the same for him. It's not like I would hate marrying him, I would just rather marry someone I actually love." Asha sighs and looks down towards the ground.
Man, this sucks.
“Wow. Holy shit. I fucking hate your parents. We need to find you someone good, and now.” I say, absolutely determined to find Ash the perfect guy, one she really loves, and fast. “When is your birthday?” I ask, anxious.
Ash bites her lip again. “October thirty-first. Halloween. And next month.” She sounds like she’s already given up hope, and that makes me so angry, I feel like I could beat the shit of Potter and his amazing abs.
Yeah, they’re pretty freakin’ amazing. Shh! Don’t tell anyone. He’s my enemy. I can’t be saying that my enemy is attractive, even if he really is.
“Right. We need to work fast. I’ll start today. First, we need to make a list of all the guys who fit the requirements, and then we cross out all the crappy ones, and then we set you up with the perfect one that’s left over!” I smile brightly, satisfied at my genius. Ash just stares at me with her eyebrows touching her hairline.
“Well, you have fun with that, My. I’ll just go and eat chocolate ice cream with Rose and mourn the loss of my single-ness. But, if you do, by some bizarre chance, find someone ‘perfect’, as you put it, feel free to tell me.” With those parting sarcasm-filled three sentences, Ash, flies down to the ground dismounts, and walks away.
Wait, she has my Quaffle with her!
I heave a sigh and follow her, but at a break-neck pace with a heart-stopping dismount in midair that I mastered when I was twelve. What can I say? I’m just that freakin’ awesome.
I frown and walk slowly off the pitch, focused on the ground in front of me.
“Damn…Nott’s off, he’s a creep…can’t have Malfoy, either, he and Rosey are head-over-heels…let’s see, he’s alright...hey, aren’t I missing someone?...Oh, wait, no, that’s just the guy who graduated last year, what’s-his-face…ah, this bloke is nice…hmm, doesn’t look to bad, either…oh, shit, he’s got a girlfriend…that sucks…hold on, who’s that? I don’t know his name…possible match for Ash…yeah, I’ll look into that…hmm…this guy’s okay… if you get past the glasses…yeah, not for Ash…Oh, fuck this!”
Let me tell you something. When a seventeen-year-old girl with bright purple hair, several more piercings than is considered normal, and ripped-up clothing is observed sitting at table in the library, looking at a class registry and writing things on a piece of parchment, all while muttering to herself and occasionally swearing, most people tend to think it’s a bit weird. I have no clue why, but they do.
“Um, hey, are you okay?” I hear a tentative voice and I look up, and then grin like I just won the lottery.
The boy standing in front of me has a Gryffindor tie, dark, straight, and long hair, and a pair of the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s also pretty hot, over all. Why the shitsicles haven’t I noticed this bloke before?
“Yeah, I’m actually great!” I say enthusiastically, doing my best to reign in my monster-sized grin. (Just for the record, I’m not grinning because this guy is hot. I’m grinning because he’s an Asha candidate.)
“Alrighty then. Er, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing?” he asked, peering at the parchment covered in scribbles in front of me.
“Nothing important”, I shrug, pulling the list of names very casually into my shoulder bag. No need for him to see that and start asking awkward questions. That could get very messy. “So, um, I’m Myra Smithe. Who’re you?”
“I’m Griffin Thomas. Nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. I oblige, taking his hand and finding that he doesn’t have one of those wussy handshakes, that his grip is nice and firm. Hmm…a good sign.
…let’s ignore that last comment.
“Right. So. Griffin. What year are you in?” I tilt my head to the side and study him. His eyes seem warm and caring, kind of like Ash’s eyes. Alright. My bet’s on Ash marrying Griffin.
“I’m in Sixth. You’re Seventh, right? You play Chaser?” he asks, looking quite curious. And he likes Quidditch! This just keeps getting better.
“Yeah. Hey, do you know Asha Rotva? She’s also in Sixth, one of the Griffins, plays as Reserve Chaser?” to my surprise and joy, Griffin blushes a little when I mention Asha.
*Cue five-minute session of fist-bumping and wild, spastic victory dancing.*
I am so boss at this match-making thing.
“Uh- yeah, I do. She’s got black hair, right? Blackish-blue eyes? She’s a good Chaser, I’ve seen her play before.” The more Griffin talks, the deeper his blush gets. I find it difficult to restrain myself from grinning evilly.
“Uh-huh, that’s her. So, you like Quidditch?”
“Yeah, I bit. I mean, I like it but I would never be able to make the team, because you already have four excellent Chasers, and I’m not even that good, so I just like watching.”
Note to self: work on Griffin’s self-confidence.
“Cool. You should try out for Chaser next year. Both Potter and I are graduating this year, so…” I let the end of sentence trail off and I shrug.
“Er- I know this is going to sound a little weird, but could you introduce me to Asha? I’ve never really talked to her, and I’d like to.”
Poor, poor Griffin. I’ve only just met you, and I already know you’re totally in love with the daughter of one of the richest and most controlling wizarding families ever.
Mate, you are so screwed.
“Yeah, of course. Hey, I’ll drag her here tomorrow, same time. You be here, and I’ll set you up.” I give him a small grin, and stand up, shake his hand again, grab all my stuff, and leave the library to go and talk to Ash and find out more about Griffin.
“Wait, Griffin Thomas? No no no no no. I am not going to meet him in the library. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t care what you said, I’m not going within ten feet of him. Not now, not ever.” Ash crosses her arms and sticks out her lower lip, pouting like there’s no tomorrow.
Holy shit. What the heck is wrong with this kid. She’s got a hot kid just falling over himself to meet her and she’s all “No freakin’ way!” My friends are all nuts. It’s official.
“Why not?” I whine, attempting some puppy dog eyes. (I suck at puppy dog eyes. I really do.)
“Okay, first, you suck at puppy dog eyes, and second, because I’ve been in love with Griffin Thomas since forever and there’s no way in hell I can talk to him without making an fool of myself!”
Yeah, the Fates hate me, what else is new?
Once Freddy leaves for the RoR (Room of Requirement), I wait for about five minutes with Mary before we leave.
“So, um, exactly how mad is Sluggy?” I ask anxiously.
“Oh, he’s beyond pissed, I’d say. I mean, I say him waddling around with his face bright red and muttering something about ankle chains and Unforgivable Curses. If I were you, I would run for the hills and stay there for the next several thousand years.” She says, shrugging and looking very unconcerned.
“Well, damn. And here I was hoping to live for a while.” I mess up my hair and glance at my watch. A few more minutes.
“Yeah…” her voice trails off, and I glance up and see her staring at something on the floor, half buried under some random junk. Something red and lacy.
Right. That shouldn’t be here.
Mary gets up from Freddy’s bed and picks her way through piles of shit to the unidentified red object.
“Uh, Mary, I don’t think you want to know what that is. You should just, you know, um, not go anywhere near it…” I start towards her, but she’s already picking up the U.R.O (unidentified red object). It just so happens to be a pair of red, lacy knickers that probably belong to either Raven Swate or Alexis Vultu. Honestly, what’s the difference between those two?
“That’s disgusting.” She said, very matter-of-factly, dropping the knickers on the floor again and kicking them under a pile of textbooks that look like they’ve never been opened. (They haven’t.)
“Yeah…” I run a hand through my hair again and check my watch again. “Okay, time to go. Come on, we all need to be there at the same time.”
“How do you plan on avoiding Sluggy?” she asks as we sprint out the door, down the stairs, across the Common Room, out the portrait hole, and down the hall.
“Moving fast. Al’s got the cloak, so we can’t use that, but we both know that Sluggy can’t go faster than a golf cart, whereas we can.” From the corner of my eye I see her nod, but I also see that my mention of the cloak did not go unnoticed by her.
Shit, can’t I learn to keep my mouth shut for once in my life?
(Don’t answer that.)
“I’m assuming that you’ll tell me about the cloak later. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to make you tell me.” I gulp. I haven’t known Mary O’Connor for a week yet, but I already know that she is not the kind of person you want to mess with.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll tell you once we get to the RoR.” She nods, looking satisfied. Interesting thing is, she already knows what the RoR is. Apparently she’s known since her first year.
Mary puts my grandfather to shame. Seriously. This chick is awesome.
I’m pretty sure I would date her if she was about four years older. Just saying.
As we sprint past the library, I happen to glance in and see Smithe sitting at a table and talking to a bloke with a Gryffindor tie. He leans down closer to her, like he might kiss her, and a surge of protective anger runs through me.
Wait, what the hell?
Mary notices my eternal battle of emotions and smirks. Holy crap, she’s already got a Marauder’s Smirk!
“Don’t worry, it’s normal for guys who are in love to feel jealous and protective. She’s also totally in love with you, just to let you know.”
“How many times to I have to tell, I don’t like Smithe! I hate her! She’s annoying and obnoxious and bitchy and too good at Quidditch! Now shut up and save your breath for running”, I snarl, and then instantly feel bad. She doesn’t look hurt, though, she just smirks, shakes her head, and keeps on running.
When we finally reach the seventh floor and the tapestry of the trolls dancing, we’re both panting and clutching our sides, moaning at the pain of the stitches we have.
“Oh, God, just kill me now! This pain is too awful to bear! I don’t want to live anymore! Cruel, cruel, fate!”
Yeah, that’s Mary. Not me. I’m not that melodramatic. Now, I just go for the more understated option of swearing like a drunken sailor.
“Holy shit that fucking hurts! Why the fuck are there so many fucking stairs in fucking Hogwarts? Fucking sadist made this fucking place! Fucking hell! I’m never going to fucking run again…”
That’s me. Currently holding the world record for the number of fucks in a sentence. Hell yes. I am just that awesome.
“Uh, James, mate, you all right?” Freddy asks, frowning at me as he helps Mary up from her fetal position on the ground. Ungrateful git. Here I am, obviously in a lot of pain, and he helps Mary? What happened to me being his best mate?
I know I sound like a fourteen-year-old girl. Shut up.
“Yeah, I’m just fucking fine!”
“Language, Mr. Potter! I need to speak with you about that detention you skipped last night!” a wheezing, fat, red-faced, and very angry Sluggy rounds the corner of the hall.
“Oh, shit.” I say, my eyes widening. “I don’t want to die.” I mutter, almost as an afterthought.
“James! Mary! Freddy! Quick, get in here!” I hear Al shout, and I whirl around and sprint into the open door of the RoR. I hear Mary and Freddy follow me, just as quickly.
“Close the door! Close it!” I yell, the second everyone’s inside.
“James! Calm down! It’s closed!” I hear Scorp yell right back.
“Thank God. I was afraid for my life there for a second.” I moan, and then collapse into an incredibly comfortable couch that is conveniently located right behind me. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to get up again.
“You’re such a girl, James.” Al says, punching me on the shoulder as he sits down next to me.
“Am not!” I exclaim indignantly as I rub my shoulder.
“You definitely are.” Mary says, raising an eyebrow at me as she sits down on my other side.
“Oi! You’re supposed to be nice to your elders!”
“Elders? You’re barely four years older than me! You’re not my freakin’ elder. So, how do I become a Marauder? I’m getting kind of excited here.”
“Yeah, and Al and I haven’t even really met you yet! We deserve proper introductions.” Scorp demands, crossing his arms and glaring at me and Freddy, who are the only ones who’ve really gotten know Mary.
You know what? I think all Marauders are secretly girls at heart.
That’s not very good. We should work on that. It’s bad for the image, you know.
“Fine. I’m Mary O’Connor, soon-to-be Marauder and currently very tired because someone just made me run from the Gryffindor Common Room to the seventh bloody floor without stopping because said person is a wimp who’s afraid of an overweight walrus in a waistcoat. You two are Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter, infamous pranksters and very sought-after members of the male population of Hogwarts. Good enough for ya?” Mary finishes off her “introduction” by tossing her messy bangs back away from her face and glaring at Scorp and Al.
“Holy crap.” Al breathes.
“She’s going to be great.” Scorp says, nodding to no one in particular.
“Well hell yes she is.” Freddy says, looking scandalized as he drops himself down next to Mary. “I mean, she was only recruited by the original Second Generation Marauders, after all.”
“Right. So, we need to hurry up and explain things to her.” I say, turning to an expectant Mary.
“So, you guys have a kick-ass Invisibility Cloak, the Marauders Map, which I already know about, and you each have nicknames judging on what form your Patronus takes?” Mary asks, looking slightly disbelieving and staring at us like something’s gone wrong in our heads.
Which isn’t all that unusual considering what we just told her. Which is the whole Marauders history, starting with my grandfather.
“Yeah. My nickname is Prongs. I’m a stag”, I say, smiling. It always makes me feel closer to my grandfather to share his nickname and his Patronus. I mean, I never knew him. So…yeah.
(I’m not too good at being emotional, in case you haven’t noticed.)
“I’m Gold. My Patronus is a lion.” Freddy grins, as if remembering how happy he was when he first cast his Patronus.
“And I’m Padfoot…I’m a dog.” Al’s proud of his nickname, too. He got Sirius’s.
“I’m Scaly. I’ve got a snake.” Scorp mutters, embarrassed. He doesn’t like being snake, especially because of who his father is. We don’t care, but he really does.
“Okay. So I assume it’s my turn to find out what I am?” Mary asks, looking a little nervous.
“Yeah. The incantation is Expecto Patronum, and you have to think of your happiest memory while you do it.” I say gently, knowing how anxious she is.
“Alright.” She mumbles, biting her lip and pulling her wand out of her pocket.
She stands up, takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and waits a moment. Then she opens her eyes and shouts “Expecto Patronum!”
A silver lynx bursts out of her wand and lopes around the room, filling it with light and warmth. Mary grins from ear to ear and laughs, looking at her Patronus with delight.
I glance around and notice everyone else is grinning, too. Mary just picked up four older brothers she’s never going to get rid of.
I stand up and say, “Mary O’Connor, I dub you Spotty, a new Marauder!”
“Spotty? What the hell is wrong with you?!”
So, yeah. Sorry about the long update, but I’ve been getting lots of ideas for new stories that I have to write lately…so. Well. That’s it. Sorry if it’s too short, I promise it will be longer next time! I’m also sorry about my horrific lack of creativity with those nicknames. Hope you liked the Marauders bit! (I kind of did.)
Review, please, and thanks for reading!
P.S: I'm going to try and get a banner for this story, and I need actor/actress names for James and Myra because i'm absolute crap at remembering/knowing just about anyone famous. so, you know, review? please? (because i desperately need this help! legit.)
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