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Like Father, Like Son, right? by Ih8Voldemort
Chapter 3 : Shades of purple
Rating: Mature 
Chapter Reviews: 4


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***

"Come on! Get a move on guys!"

Lexi bounded on ahead of the group, barreling through branches and bushes. I grinned, watching as she deliberately shoved a miserable looking Malfoy out of her way. He stumbled, looking at her, murderous. My smile grew wider.

Unfortunately, whilst I had been focusing on Malfoy and Lexi, I had stopped and Hugo had gone crashing into me. And Albus had smashed into him. After that, it was a bit like human dominoes, one person falling after the next. 

And guess who got to be crushed at the bottom?

That's right. Moi.

Ouch. I think I broke a rib! 

Why the heck are guys so heavy? Ugh.

I yelled at Hugo to 'get the flip off me' and he obeyed me, ordering the others to stand up.

Finally, the weight disappeared completely and I lay on the ground, gasping.
I cringed, slowly raising myself up off the forest floor. Ow, yep. Definitely a rib. Right there.

I pointed my wand at my broken rib and muttered a healing spell.

It goes without saying that the spell failed. 

I mean, on the one hand, I didn't think it was broken anymore, but, on the other hand, I might have just accidentally turned my hair purple.

I lifted one of my usually red locks gingerly. Yeah, I knew it. My entire head of hair was a vibrant shade of lilac. I thought I was meant to be GOOD at magic!

Obviously not.

I sighed, dropping the coil of hair back into place. I glanced up just in time to see everyone burst out laughing hysterically. 

Great.

Now I looked like an eggplant on a stick.

I stood carefully to see if anything else was cracked. 

Ooh. Nothing was broken, but I was going to have some impressive bruises tomorrow.

I looked up at the others.
They were still laughing.
Yay.

I scowled at them, which only made them laugh harder. Prats.

I tossed my purple head haughtily and snorted contemptuously. 

I am a very accomplished snorter. There are just so many ways to express yourself by snorting.

I stomped off into the trees until Hugo stopped laughing long enough to call after me,

"Hey Rose! The camping site is that way." I glared back at my brother, who was currently pointing in the opposite direction.

I gave up on that camping trip there and then, having just experienced what might possibly have been the worst day of my life. 

So far. I mean, come on! I'm Rose Weasley! My life is bound to get worse.

But I wasn't going to sit around and mope about it. Only gits like Malfoy do that. Drip. Okay, maybe he wasn't a drip. 
I mean, have you seen that kid's biceps? I hate him, but I'm not DEAD. Or blind, thank goodness.

Phew.

***

I laid the last sleeping bag down and stood up, hunching over to fit into the minuscule tent. I backed out of the pin-sized doorway and immediately bumped into someone. Go figure.

I turned, an apology already on my lips.

Then I saw who it was and immediately swallowed my apology.

Malfoy, evil git. He smirked at me and already, I was considering hitting him again.

"Hey violet." Huh? What?

Oh. Oooh. Right, the purple hair. Gotcha.

I scowled. "Whatever Blondie." 

Original, Rose.
Shut up, Brain.

Obviously, Malfoy was thinking the same thing. "Ow, haven't heard that one before." he said sarcastically. My frown deepened.

Suddenly, I saw Lexi standing at my shoulder, supporting me.

"What did you come to antagonise Rose about this time? Oh, please don't hurry. Take your time. I know how you blondes have a hard time thinking, let alone remembering what you were 'thinking' about." 

I held in a smile. Her tongue had only gotten sharper over the years. Unbefrickin'lievable.

Malfoy, on the other hand, was glaring at Lexi as if he was imagining her death.

I shuddered. I totally understood the phrase, 'if looks could kill'. I swear if Malfoy could drown and suffocate Lexi with that look, he so would. I was wrong, that pale blue eye colour was working for him.

Psycho.

***

I was supposed to be sleeping right now. 

Well, technically I was meant to be outside around the campfire, but it would be a cold day in Hell when I was caught singing along to an enchanted guitar around a campfire.

I would leave that to the actual campers, you know, the ones that go willingly.

No, instead I was cuddled down in my sleeping bag, reading Hogwarts: a History and wondering who I would get for a roommate.

The zip pulled down and I lifted my head to stare at the pale blonde hair that was appearing inside my tent.

No.

Freakin'.

Way.

Even I couldn't be this unlucky, surely. Ugh, Merlin hates me, I swear.


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