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Normal? That's Weird... by Bookworm045
Chapter 44 : Mutiny, Disownage, and Break-Ups
 
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Mutiny, Disownage, and Break-Ups

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lily demanded of her father, and I snorted, pressing my knuckles of my free hand in my mouth so I didn’t full out laugh at the affronted look on Uncle Harry’s face. Next to me, I heard the various members of the Wotter clan (and Scorpius) snicker, but I was already kind of in trouble with the whole ‘dating Scorpius thing’ and I didn’t really need Uncle Harry to go rat me out to my own father.

“Lily,” Harry scolded, “Language.”

She rolled her eyes and Uncle Harry looked around the crowded office that was now his.

“Where’s James?”

The awkward silence that followed was quite a contrast to the amusement that had been in the air just seconds ago.

“Beatrice Samantha Laurinda Alena Lexandra Weasley!” I exclaimed in surprise, seeing the tiny orange cat sitting on a few books on Uncle Harry’s desk. My uncle started, and turned to look at where I’d been looking, noticing the cat.

“What?” He asked, half confused and I grinned –topic successfully diverted.

“It’s my cat,” I supplied, unwilling to give any more information.

“She’s kind of…special.” Scorpius added. “The cat. Not Rose.”

I rolled my eyes when Hugo snickered.

“What do you mean special?”

“He means that she turns into a black panther when it’s nighttime.” Dom informed him coolly. I’m quite amused, actually, how annoyed with him we all are. It’s like mutiny.

Sort of.

Uncle Harry rolled his eyes, “Okay. Back to the topic at hand –where’s James?”

I scowled. “I disowned him.”

“You disowned my son?”

“Pretty much. After I rearranged his face with my fist.”

“Should I be concerned?” My uncle asked.

“He cheated on Via with the most vile girl in the school.” Louis told him bluntly.

“The world.” Lucy corrected.

There was a murmur of agreement all around.

“And he’s a bastard.” Al added absentmindedly. “Just in general.”

“Your mum and I were married.” Uncle Harry said annoyingly and I rolled my eyes, shifting my weight on Scorpius’s lap, mildly amused that Uncle Harry had yet to realize our position.

“But, back to my question.” Lily replied after a few moments of silence in which her father tried to digest this spout of teenage-drama. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Uncle Harry rolled his eyes. “I was being honest –there’s no end of the world, or random murders. Your teacher really is sick, and McGonagall asked me.”

"Well this blows.” Fred muttered. “Now we can’t do anything interesting anymore.”

I snorted again at the affronted look that was quite rapidly becoming standard on my uncle’s face when he talked to the load of us.

“I’m not here to ruin your lives.” He told us.

“Well it’s not like I can go out and have hot pregnant sex with my boyfriend now that there’s a chance I could be caught by my uncle, right?” Dom prattled off, and there was more than one disturbed look this time.

I was shaking with laughter –I knew she was joking, but no one else did, it seemed.

“Guys,” I said between silent laughs, “She’s kidding. She’s still going to do that.”

“Duh.”

Uncle Harry face-palmed and stood up, walking towards the door of his office. He opened it and held it open, pointing out of it.

“Leave,” He said flatly.

“How rude!” Lucy gasped, sounding very posh and elegant. I snickered, twining my fingers with Scorpius’s as I hopped off his lap and gathered my book –I usually just transfigure the cover to look like the one of the class I’m in.

“Get out of my office,” Uncle Harry deadpanned, shoving Fred, who was nearest the entrance out of the door unceremoniously. “Dominique, I will be writing your father that you are sleeping with Lysander.”

“I’m pretty sure he figured that one out on his own. . .” She retorted, looking highly pissed off that he was threatening her. “And for that, I intend on fucking Lysander every waking minute of the day –don’t threaten the sadistic pregnant girl, Uncle H, you’d do well to remember that.”

We all stared in mild revulsion as she flounced out of the office exit, already raising her skirt several more inches from its usual standard length of short.

“She was kidding. . .” Uncle Harry murmured to the rest of us uncertainly as he ran a weary hand through his hair, “Right?”

“Whatever keeps you sane, Professor Potty,” I said, patting him patronizingly on the cheek as I, too, exited the office, tugging Scorpius along with my hand, Al following behind.

“Allykins,” I began leadingly.

“I am not getting you fried chicken.” Al said promptly. “We have to get to Charms.”

“I want fried chicken,” I whined, “Scorpius?”

He looked at me and I widened my eyes, pulling out my bottom lip in my best pout.

“Please, Scorpius?” I asked in a small voice.

Al watched, exasperated, as my boyfriend pressed a quick kiss on my pouting lips and started off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Rosie,” Al sighed, “You weren’t supposed to make my friend whipped.”

I smirked. “But whatever else would I do with him? I like him too much.”

Al slung an arm across my shoulders and I leaned my head into the crook of his neck comfortably as we continued onto Charms and I fabricated an elaborate excuse to Flitwick about how Scorpius realized that his true life’s desire was to become a ballet-singing-mermaid and so he went off to the kitchens to find him some red-velvet cupcakes to offer to the giant squid in repayment for tap-dancing lessons that he would use to impress the mermaid chief who would then approve of Scorpius’ entry into the underwater mer-land and carve gills into his neck so he could breathe underwater and continue his extensive training to become the world’s bounciest sea turtle and he would only be able on land once every seven years, and then, he would see our child who would be seven by then, and he would love our half-ballet-singing-mermaid-tap-dancer-bouncy-sea-turtle, half-Rose child as if it were his own, because it is, and my Scorpy would teach little Leonardo-the-girl all about the majestic-ness of underwater algae growth.

Flitwick doesn’t usually talk to me for the rest of the hour when I really get into my bullshitting. I think I scare him.

Scorpius arrived in the class fifteen minutes late, and little Prof Flit didn’t even bother asking lest he discover that dear-ole-Scorp-o had an even more elaborate excuse for his tardiness.

“Here’s your chicken, Rose,” He said, placing the platter in front of me and selecting one for himself, taking a bite of it.

“You’re now a ballet-singing-mermaid-tap-dancer-bouncy-sea-turtle who is condemned to an eternity of living under water with only one visit above land every seven years where you will teach yours’ and Rose’s children about the majestic-ness of underwater algae growth.” Al informed him quickly, not ever taking his eyes off of his notes as he scribbled down frantically what Professor was rattling off. I sunk my teeth dreamily into a leg covered in greasy batter and sighed in delight, leaning into Scorpius’s chest as he wrapped an arm around my waist and took notes and helped me eat my fried chicken.
Because I like fried chicken. And I like Scorpius. And I like turtles.

*

“I HATE YOU!!” I yelled, leaning far over the Ravenclaw table to make sure that he heard my voice plenty clear.

“AND I HATE YOU!” he roared back, throwing his arms up in the air.

“YOU’RE SUCH A BASTARD –I CAN’T BELIVE WE’RE DATING SOMETIMES, I REALLY CAN’T.”

“BELIVE ME, YOUR HIGHNESS, IT’S NOT A WALK IN THE PARK FOR ME EITHER.”

“I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD ACTUALLY SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT.”

“AND I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU TAKE EVERY SINGLE THING SO SERIOUSLY –GROW THE FUCK UP, WHY DON’T YOU?”

“THAT’S RICH, COMING FROM THE WORLD’S MOST IMMATURE, STUCK UP, EGOSTICAL, REVOLTING PRATFUCK!!” I screamed.

“Pratfuck?” Al asked wonderingly from next to me. My knees were on the bench of the table, and the entire hall was silent as they watched us argue.

SAYS THE VAIN TEMPREMENTAL BITCH!!” He bellowed.

“I AM DONE WITH THIS RELATIONSHIP.”

“FINE BY ME, YOU WERE BAD IN BED ANYWAY.”

“SAYS THE BOY WHO’S VIRGINITY I TOO—mmphfgh.”

I threw my arms around his shoulders, linking my wrists loosely as one of his hands cupped my face, his other one pulling my waist over the table and onto the other side of it, as close as possible to him, our lips working furiously together. We were spitting out breathy apologies in between kisses and he’d just hoisted me up so my legs could wrap around his waist when there was a faint clearing of the throat from beside us.

“Is there anything that you wanted to say to me, Rose?” Uncle Harry asked me, his eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Uh. . .” I said, “I don’t think so.”

I let my lips meet Scorpius’ once more, amused that we’d broken up for the twelfth time in the two weeks that we’d been dating. Personally, I’m quite proud –we keep almost breaking up, but it’s rarer that we actually mention ending the relationship.

“Miss Weasley, show some respect to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” McGonagall said, passing by.

“Was there something you wanted to hear, Professor Potty?” I asked sweetly.

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing, continuing on towards her office.

“Were you planning on telling me that you were now dating Scorpius?”

I thought about it for a moment, pursing my lips. “Not really, no.”

He scowled at me for a moment. “Were you planning on telling your parents?”

“Not until I have to,” I replied coolly, glad that McGonagall was out of ear-shot. “And I expect you won’t be notifying them, or Aunt Ginny just might hear about what really went down Christmas of 2013.”

My uncle paled for a moment before his composure was back up. “Is that a threat, Rose?” He demanded.

I laughed a tinkling laugh. “No, Uncle Harry,” I said whilst smiling brilliantly at him, “It’s a promise.”

And then he was stalking away, his face looking every bit as sulky as a child who was denied a lollipop from a sweets store, and I turned back to Scorpius and everyone else who was sitting with us (they all seem to pale in comparison when I’m arguing-then-breaking-up-then-snogging-as-if-our-lives-depend-on-it with him) and smiled serenely as they gaped at me with varying levels of astonishment.

“What happened Christmas of 2013, and why do you know about it?” Al asked blankly and I smiled slightly, threading my fingers through Scorpius’ and choosing not to answer Al’s question.


 





 

You lot have no faith in me, do you? I said I wasn't abandoning this. . .been there, done that, not going back again. *winks* But you have to understand. I'm in way too many challenges at the moment and need to get those written and posted. Last one's deadline is December 2, and then I'm off them until summer, promise. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, despite it's boringness and shortness, and I'll update before you can get to the last diget of pi (heh heh. . .). Love you all! :)
 


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