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Say What? by Shooka
Chapter 2 : Japanese Butcher Knives
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1

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Hey guys, 

Sooo... basically I felt that the prologue kinda sucked so I'm going to try to make it a little better by posting chapter 1 relatively fast. Also, I should really learn how to not procrastinate. Anyways, I'm telling you all ahead of time that I suck at writing cliffhangers so I hope you guys will continue to read my little crazy, spastic spawn of my inner mind. :)

Hope you like it. Enjoy :)

P.S. My original title wasn't allowed, and neither was my chapter summary. It was originally called Kitchen Utensils and Knickers. The chapter summary was: 

“Your arse of a brother decided it would be bloody funny to raid my closet.”


“No. Your other brother. The invisible one.”

ANYWAYS... Here's the story :)

I hate him. He will die. A very gruesome and horrible death by means of kitchen utensils.

Honestly though, how would you like it if someone stole all your knickers, then duplicated them so that they covered every, and I mean EVERY SINGLE surface in the Great Hall. They cover the tables where we eat, the floor, where we sit, the walls, you can’t even see the ceiling, who knows how the owls are going to come in. Then the arse-face decided to do a sticking charm, so no one has been able to get the knickers off the tables yet. So EVERYONE IS EATING ON TOP OF MY KNICKERS!!!He’s lucky that I had left my wand in my dorm room and had planned to get it after breakfast. I mean, he’s not benefitting anyone in any way. Here’s why:

1)       Everyone would be scarred for life (my knickers aren’t that scarring, it’s just the fact that they are well… knickers… and they can be seen everywhere. It’s gross. People eat in the Great Hall, and it would be like, you are eating on a table covered by someone’s knickers that they have probably worn. At least once. Nasty right?)

2)      He gets a detention. Or two. Or a month’s worth. And a letter home. He really deserves a lifetime’s worth. He may get a howler or two. If I get my way. He would get one every 5 minutes. For the rest of his life.

3)      I get humiliated. Enough said.

4)      Al will see it. That would be horrendous.

5)      … yea. I got nothing else.

NO ONE BLOODY IS HAPPY ABOUT THIS STUPID PRANK OF HIS. Who would go that far to see someone humiliated like that? Would you do it?

You would. Well then. No one asked you. Go fall down a well. Or die in a hole. Or both.

But seriously, he’s in my freaking house. And I haven’t bloody done anything to make him hate me…


I am going to make a pledge. I, Amerastirli M. E. R. A. S. T. I. R. L. Inges (Yes, I did pull out the full name for this, even if it’s slightly abbreviated, because I’m dead serious about this pledge and I whip out the fill name when I’m being this serious about something), vow to take down one James Sirius Potter, for being a dickheaded, immature, [insert any other insulting name here], pratface. If he comes within 10 feet of me and my Japanese butcher knives (that look like mega-sized razors, and are the most ninja things ever created), he will be missing a certain sperm-producing body part. No joke.

Cower underneath the wrath of Amerastirli M. E. R. A. S. T. I. R. L. Inges.

The point is that he will die. I can't believe he's related to Al. I can’t believe it. I like to pretend they aren’t. For a multitude of reasons. Of which, I will not divulge here because it would ruin my story.

Merlin, I hate that he found out my secret, and that I trusted him not to do anything stupid about it. Also, I hate the fact that it seemed to be that obvious to him. Why are our families such close friends?

Aww fuck. Al just entered the Great Hall behind me; I probably look like a tomato.

“You look like a tomato.”

Well, thank you for voicing my inner thoughts Captain Obvious. I bow down to your expertise at sighting such things and being able to give voice to them.

“Oh. Shit.”  Crap. Where is all this language coming from? I have little brothers, I don’t cuss. My cussing usually consists of things like “Shit-take mushrooms”, or “Fuck-sickles” (you know, it’s supposed to sound like those delicious fudge popsicles, though, I admint, fuck-sickles doesn't have a very nice ring to it), or “Aw nuts” or “Crap” or “Shoot”. You know, those words that are really boring and plain, and not very good for cussing. The only time I (consciously) let my potty mouth loose is on Potter…er… James. Not Al (sigh <3).

“Ohhhh, Ally-poooo!” Gag. I just died a little inside. There is something seriously wrong with this girl. I don’t see why they are together. And I promise it’s not the jealous little bit of me that is saying that. But seriously, Ally-poo???? I feel sorry for the kid.

“Well fuck”

“Don’t say such naughty words around my Ally-poo!” Naughty words? Really? My Ally-poo? Could it get any worse? How old does this girl think she is? I mean, either she acts like a 5 year old, or she’s trying to be cute and motherly, in which case she is treating Al like a 5 year old. Merlin, what’s wrong with this girl?

This girl is my girlfriend, Amera. And, love, I can deal with ‘naughty words’. I’m not 5.” Al deadpanned.

Well shoot. Didn’t mean to say that out loud (or at least not loud enough for Al to hear it).

A silence ensued, and I watched as Al finally took the time to take in his surroundings (at the entrance of the knicker-covered Great Hall, with everyone watching). I watched his face go from his normal small, amused smile that he reserves for me, to a look of disgust. I sighed and looked down at my untied, worn out black Converse (aka comfortable muggle shoes), hoping that I wasn’t turning bright red again.

He better watch out for my Japanese butcher knives and any other sharp object I can get my hands on from various kitchens, and I know lots. I could get them from the Hogwarts kitchen, the kitchen in my home, the kitchen in the Potter household, and don’t forget the kitchen section in muggle stores (they have some crazy sharp knives and such. Mwahaha.).

“Your Japanese butcher knives? So then, these knickers are yours?”  I really need to watch what comes out of my mouth.

I glared at him. I may love this kid, but he’s somewhat thickheaded at times. Al winced under my glare, and I kept myself from smiling. I didn’t know I had that power over him. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

“Your arse of a brother decided it would be bloody funny to raid my closet.”


“No. Your other brother. The invisible one.”


Merlin’s lacy pink knickers. This boy is clueless. But I sincerely hope Merlin doesn’t have lacy pink knickers, because that would be scarring. Quite debilitating to my mental health.

I shook my head and sighed. I felt like whacking my head on a table or something. Can Al not detect sarcasm? Seriously, there is something wrong with the Potter boys. They’re both idiots.

“Yes, James did it. Who else in the world would I be talking about?”

“Oh. Does he not realize how scarring this is to everyone?” Wow. Great minds think alike, I tell you!


“Err… or how humiliating it is for you?”

“Thank you.”

“These are your knickers?” And here I was thinking that Al and I could have a decent full length conversation. Of course, Miss Git-friend decided to ruin it. Hmm. Miss Git-friend. Like girlfriend, except much better suited to her person. I like it. I hereby dub Al’s girlfriend as Miss Git-friend.

I refocused back in to my surroundings. Which seemed to be a bad idea. Gah. Al and Miss Git-friend are swapping saliva. Gross. And they are doing it in front of everyone! Me, the knicker-covered Great Hall… the knicker-covered Great Hall. Merlin, that reminds me, I need to get my wand.

I turned to head back out of the Great Hall, and suddenly everything seemed like it was happening in slow motion. I took one step, and rriiippp. I tripped over my shoelace (I knew I should have tied those before I rushed out of the common room) and one of my knicker duplicates (at least I hope it was a duplicate). I closed my eyes, and screamed, whipping my hands around in hopes of catching myself  before gravity decided to stop playing around with me and let me fall.

I heard a grunt and a squeal as my hands connected with something soft. With a thump, I finally stopped moving.

Opening my eyes, I once again turned bright red. I was straddling one Albus Severus Potter, in front of the entire Great Hall (since I had screamed and gotten everyone’s attention). Miss Git-friend was on the floor a couple of feet away, seething, with a red handprint on her cheek. Looking down, I say that Al had a matching one on his own cheek.

Ha. I just gave him a five-star. Haha.

Wait, I’m straddling Albus Severus Potter.

Oh shit-take mushrooms.

Hey hey hey! Thanks for reading. It was definitely longer than my ridiculously short prologue (sorry about that guys). 

Anyways, I hope you liked the first chapter. Wanna now you you can let me know? I'll let you in on a little secret... Below this chapter, if you scroll down a little more is a beautiful little box that says name and review. It's a hungry little box, so if you fill it with letters and send it in, it will be very happy and full. And the hungry little box's owner (i.e. me) will be super uber duber happy. My little hungry box also needs a name. So any good names would be welcome too. :)

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