Chapter 3 : Day Seven, Phase Three (Part One)
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 5|
Background: Font color:
Gorgeous chapter image by the wonderful Louise la.paz @TDA. It's Imogen and James, we meet them in this chapter ;)
Day Seven, Phase Three, Part One
“You stupid moron! N- No! NO! Whatcha do that for?!”
“You know mother, they can’t hear you through the glass and metal, it’s solid,”
The F-Guru swivelled her head around, her eyes bulging. Whoopsie.
“You know Sophie,” she mocked, spitting vehemently. Score, I know a big word. “I don’t have to do this for you, I can turn around right now and drive home,” There she goes, pulling the mum card on me. Score for The F-Guru. 1-1.
That’s my mother for you though, absolutely charming. Something about driving always brings out the anger in her. I really wonder how much she must’ve scared the instructor, so he would just hand her her license so they could’ve just escaped. That is more comforting than the idea of my mum passing her test because then there would be an instructor out there, releasing drivers like my mother into society. She’s a rubbish driver.
Operative F-Guru was driving me to The Target’s grandparents house- I was helping in the preparations for his cousin’s wedding. A cousin I had neither met or have any relations to, because there was always one cousin you don’t know but you’re somehow related to. I had met many a ‘cousin’ at family reunions. Awkward is one word for it. ‘Do you remember me Soph? You met me when you were knee-high!’
No. And if I was knee-high, how the hell am I supposed to remember, I’m not an elephant and I don’t have an eidetic memory like Sheldon! Got it? Good.
I hate family reunions, I know no one there.
Where was I? See that, is the memory of a goldfish, so ‘Aunt Barbara’ if I can’t remember my thought from 2 seconds ago, I’m hardly going to remember a person from 15 years ago.
Seriously, where was I?
Oh, yeah, I’m going to The Burrow to help The Target’s cousin plan for her wedding. Why I hear you cry? Because I’m a kind person? Because I love weddings? Because I have impeccable taste?
Ha, as if.
I got roped in. Turns out, being The Target’s date for the day has no advantages whatsoever, in fact it’s worse because he’s the family of the bride and has to help out and by extension, me too. Where is the justice in the world? Since when do innocent, helpless, guests get forced into working for a scary blonde bridezilla?
Disgusting. The world is corrupt.
And here I was, getting my butt sore from sitting in a car seat for over an hour, to meet strangers. I’m not even a people’s person, I suck at meeting new people, my tongue lolls out and I’ve been told that drool somehow drips down my chin. Attractive, I know, I’m irresistible, I once got chosen for a shoe advert and now I’m stopped in the street so people can admire my feet.
So I’m going to win over The Target’s family by using my feet. And I’ve been told I’m not normal at all.
“I got your text, ‘F-Guru shopping and Dad at work, come over, URGENT- Op Coffee Addict’ I mean really, was the caps lock necessary Soph?”
“No,” I admitted begrudgingly. Like a toddler in the wrong.
“Good, admittance, we’re getting somewhere, now let me in,”
I stepped aside whilst Queenie swept in, leaving me to close the door behind her. She treats the place like her home and judging by how much she’s here, it probably is. My friends have no manners. Today, in the morning, Freddie burped in my face in greeting.
Your jealousy is understandable, I have the greatest best friends ever.
That wasn’t sarcasm at all.
It totally was.
But at least he gave a good goodbye- a hug, a ruffle of the hair, a cheeky ‘see you in 37 hours’ over the shoulder.
And Queenie has her nice points. When she isn’t being a party pooper or trashing my house.
Meh, who am I kidding? She’s always being a party pooper. Her code name should’ve been Little Miss Party Pooper, that’s what I said, but she wouldn’t have it for some reason, thought Queenie was much better. I thought that she thought that the Mr Men and Little Miss cartoons were cool, that being Little Miss Party Pooper would’ve been a dream come true. Guess I was wrong.
Queenie continued up the stairs into HQ, leaving me to follow, see what I said about bad manners? Yesterday, after ‘The Incident’, which is what the minor slip up- okay the huge blunder, I came home with a bloody nose after setting off a ton of fireworks in my best friend’s room- will be referred to, I got a delivery for those clear boards that always appear in detective shows at the police station. It was only 62p on eBay and the owner was eager to get rid of it.
So eager in fact, he delivered it himself.
I hope it’s not cursed.
God, it is cursed! I’m so thick, how could I not have seen it?! Now I’ve got a cursed board as well as a cursed cat. Damn you eBay, first you give me Joey, then you give me a board and both are fucking cursed! Do you hate me so much eBay, huh?
How am I supposed to complete this operation with so many cursed items? I won’t be able to go on missions because it will all backfire on me all because of my stinking bad luck. Thank you eBay, you have done so much for me.
Said cursed board was littered with notes on the Weasleys, mainly The Target. It was scary how much I knew about him. But that’s what growing up with someone means I guess.
I’m not a stalker or anything.
Just because I spy on him with binoculars does not make me a stalker. It’s all for the purpose of the operation. It’s not like I enjoy watching him change because I get to see his abs, pffft, that would be crazy, right?
“So, what was the ‘URGENT’ for Soph?”
I fixed Queenie with a steely hard glare. I spent 6 hours until 2 AM perfecting my glare until I scared myself so silly, I couldn’t go to sleep for fear of having nightmares. I’m pretty sure my glare won’t produce hysterics in my victims anymore.
“Operative Coffee Addict,” I narrowed my eyes. Queenie whimpered. Sucker. “And the answer to that question is that The Target and the Weasley family are congregating in Ottery St Catchpole on the other side of Devon, a gathering yours truly has been invited to,”
“And you want me to make you look normal?”
“God yes!” I grabbed Queenie by her collar and looked her directly in the eye, like they do in films. I also practiced that with a teddy bear. “I don’t want to look like a crackpot in front of Freddie’s family!”
“That’s The Target to you,” Queenie smirked. Smirked. Grr. “I guess I’m gonna need backup, this is going to be a monumental task,”
“When you said backup, I wasn’t expecting Raveena and Noah, they’re not really normal either,”
“Stop insulting the backup! They’re more normal than you and who else d’you want me to call- Lindsay?”
“Definitely not,” I snorted. Brooks was a bitch and a skank and never any help.
“Good. Then we’ll begin,”
I suppose I should add to this report who the heck Noah Green and Raveena Sahota are. Raveena’s a close friend, not as close as Queenie but definitely up there. She’s boy crazy and spontaneous but not in a good way, like she’d suddenly announce she’s going to stay over at a guy’s house or decide she’ll have a party that night, but she was a nice person, funny even.
Then, there’s Noah.
I know, exes don’t get on, it gets all awkward, nothing can ever be the same again.
Somehow, that didn’t happen to us thankfully. We were friends. We kissed a bit. Then we became friends again. Simple.
He’s a sports freak, loves football to the point of death, the nutjob. He can also play, and he has a good chance of going professional, if he’s given the chance. Noah’s my best guy friend, right after Freddie of course.
Queenie has a crush on him and she doesn’t think that I’ve noticed.
He also has a crush on her. Those two do my head in- I just want to bash their heads together and exclaim ‘Go out with each other already!’ in a battle cry like way. Okay, my imagination might stretch things a little and I don’t think my actions would be well received for some reason. And plus, I think they haven’t told each other is because of me, because me and Noah went out, Queenie wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings and Noah is probably feeling guilty liking his ex’s best friend.
I. Don’t. Care.
I’m going to tell them that... someday... after Operation Weasley, I’ll tell them, pinkie promise.
Did I just make a pinkie promise to myself? Does that count?
“So, how am I going to be made ‘normal’?”
They all laughed. Laughed! Laughed I tell you, laughed! I wasn’t even being my amazingly genius comical self and they laughed!
“Sophie, you can’t be normal even if you tried,”
Ouch. Ta Raveena, you’re kind.
“What Ravi is trying to say is that we’ll pass you off as a satisfactorily sane person, but we can’t work miracles,”
I think my eyebrows just disappeared into my hairline. Gee Noah, you have absolutely no tact whatsoever.
“Gee Noah, you have absolutely no tact whatsoever,” I tend to repeat my thoughts.
“What did I say?”
It’s probably a female thing, the synchronised head shake and arm cross and tutting. Either that or it’s a crazy girl thing. I’m leaning towards the former, I’ve seen Auntie Angie and her sister Raychelle do it to The Target and The Ginger Ninja.
But they’re not exactly normal. Bad example. Now I’m confused.
Anyways, that’s what we were doing to Noah. We might have sacred him a little though, because he started to stumble backwards and make a break for the door screaming, and I quote, ‘Aliens!’.
He’s delusional. We’re not aliens. We’re crazy, creepy women.
There’s a difference. One comes from outer space, the other comes from the womb of a human female.
How did I ever go out with him?
How was I attracted to that?
Hang on, how is Queenie attracted to that?
She’s a weird one, I’ve woken up and smelt the coffee. Literally, I’m drinking a cup now. Ah, bliss.
“So, shall we get on with the job, it’s going to take all day at least,”
“Yeah, we need to change her wardrobe, her speech and her actions, which first Ravi?”
“The speech and actions will take forever and Noah’s gone for now so we might as well get on with her wardrobe whilst he isn’t here- I don’t fancy listening to whining right now,”
“We do have to listen to Sophie though,”
“I am right here y’know!” The cheek of it. Bah.
“How are we going to sort out these dreadful clothes?”
“None of these clothes are suitable Kel, we’ve got to do something drastic,”
“Hellooooooo, I’m not invisible, stop talking about me like I’m not here!”
“I was thinking-“
“Sophie, I’m not Jesus, I’m Kelly, although I have been told the resemblance is astounding,”
“Jesus has a beard, you have a beard I can totally make the connection Operative Queenie. Now can we please get on with this, including me, I called you guys over and it’s already 1 PM and my parents are coming home at 7. We’re not going to get this done, then I’m going to turn up at The Burrow in a bin liner dress and a parrot on my shoulder,”
“A bin liner dress?” Yes Ravi.
“A parrot?” Yes Queenie.
“Well, the dress is easy, I made it on that fashion project thingy at the Exeter First University workshop last year and next door has a stuffed parrot that I could borrow,”
I will not tolerate the mad woman glances I’m getting right now, it’s simply absurd, I’m not crazy. It’s true, and it’s not like I’ll actually do it, there is something called sarcasm or haven’t you noticed, uh-huh?
“Aren’t you two lucky that I brought a heap of clothes?”
Of course Ravi, what I want to do right now is wear your clothes, especially when they’re designed to be boy magnets, what with you being boy crazy.
Fuck my life.
5.03 PM in the Big Brother house.
Joke, in the Carter residence, actually.
“Don’t say anything pertaining to excretion, curses, rabies, relationships or the operation,”
“Ravi, I’m not stupid and I don’t even talk about excrement,”
“You do,” Oh, thanks guys for the collaboration on the latest Sophie bashing phrase, it warmed the cockles of my heart.
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,”
“Now let’s have a conversation, start it off,”
“Erm, do you like cheese? Camembert’s my favourite,” This is going spectacular, I love cheese, surely I can talk about something I like in a conversation, right?
“Add cheese to the list of things you never mention,”
Why? Why are you taking away my cheese, huh Ravi?
“Fine,” Hmph. “Do you like coffee, va-“
“Or coffee. Why can’t you just start a simple conversation with a ‘How are you?’ ‘The weather’s splendid today,’ or even a ‘Is that a new tie?’”
“Who the hell speaks like that?”
“My mum, she’s a speech therapist,”
“And she speaks weirdly, I mean ‘splendid’, really?”
“Au contraire mademoiselle, it’s you speaks funny, although the splendid was a bit out there,”
You see this Ravi? I’m banging my head on the kitchen table. Wanna know why? Because this is stupid. You may take away my cheese and my coffee, but you shall never take away my freedom... to say whatever I want, hoozah!
I could become an inspiration speaker, that could be my backup plan. Yeah, I see it now, Sophie Carter, the woman who inspired millions.
I know, you wish you were me, I have the perfect life, but sadly, not everyone can be legendary like me. Sorry.
“I’M BACK AND I BROUGHT SAUSAGES, LET’S HAVE A BARBEQUE!”
I knew I went out with Noah for a reason, he’s a life saver. And a Barbie too. At least he’s gotten over his ‘alien’ thoughts. I hope.
That was yesterday. Today, I’m sitting in an uncomfortable car, wearing Ravi’s slaggy clothes and being forced to listen to my mum sing along to the music being played on the radio. Her singing is as good as her driving and her cooking.
In other words, absolutely crap. Sorry F-Guru.
Right now however, she was giving me a lecture that I had learnt from past experiences to tune out.
“...cannot believe you would miss Dexter’s homecoming for wedding planning-“
“Ma, Dex’s 23, I’m sure he can handle me not being there. Besides, I haven’t seen him since Christmas, one day won’t hurt,”
The F=Guru looked as if she had been slapped. Why is it I always seem to offend my mother, I don’t set out in the morning, looking for ways to spite her. But then again, wearing what I wear to her is a crime against the “Fashion Police”.
Who the hell are they?!
“...besides the point, he’s your brother Sophie and-“
I don’t really want to hear this right now. Urgh.
“it ‘s completely disrespectful...” Wow, the F-Guru really can drone on through anything.
A butterfly fluttered past my window. I always wondered how caterpillars turn into butterflies, was it magic? Meh, magic doesn't exist, must be some weird biological thing.
“Got that Sophie?”
“Good girl. Now which way do I turn?”
I knew something like this would happen. We were bound to get lost. Something had to wrong, I couldn’t just arrive normally could I? Curse you Joey and curse you board, you make my life no easier.
“Let’s just travel down this road Ma,”
The one thing I hate about Devon above all other things is how tiny the roads can be. There’s not enough room for a person to walk through, let alone a car and when two cars meet head on, it’s a disaster. You either, drive around each other into the fields and potentially end up in a ditch or have to reverse all the way to the end of the road.
That happened twice. Not the ditch. The reversing, just to clarify that, otherwise we’d still be in the field, not driving. Although we did see one truck being pushed out of a ditch.
It was huge. And it wasn’t going anywhere.
“Mum! Reverse, that sign post, it said Ottery St Catchpole, we missed our turn!” It was a grotty, worn away sign post but still a sign post that signified civilisation nearby, which will be a break from fields of grass, they can get a bit boring after half an hour.
“Urgh, I hate reversing,”
You’re not any good at it either F-Guru, no offence.
Actually, take offence, it’s true.
7 wrong turns and 4 reverses later and we were at The Burrow. At least, I think it was The Burrow because that’s what the sign sticking out of the ground near the pigsty said. The whole house looked like it had been mashed together by some cowboy builders. Blind cowboy builders. The Weasley’s really deserved their money back, it’s not fair to take the elderly’s money!
As soon as I had gotten out of the car, the F-Guru blasted off, waving out of the window, radio blaring again. That woman’s going to get an ASBO one day when someone complains about that noise and she calls me anti social. I’m very social thank you very much.
Except for the verbal diarrhoea, the stammering, the shaking...
Okay, I’m a social recluse, happy?
The Target and Duckie were waiting outside along with a plump woman with ginger greying hair who I suspected to be Mrs Weasley, the grandmother. She didn’t look like the normal, sweet knitting type of grandmother but rather the type of grandmother that took no nonsense, jumped out of airplanes and worked you to your bones. I’m glad I have the knitting type, although the Christmas jumpers are a bit overbearing.
“Hello Sophie,” Mrs Weasley caught me off guard, sweeping me into a hug. She gave tight hugs but not suffocating. I liked her hugs. She then held me at arms length and stared me up and down, evaluating me. Now that was nerve wracking. Would she think I was a bad influence? Would she lock me outside from her home with no means of getting home? I don’t think I can walk 50 miles, maybe if I was riding Joey. This is all his fault after all.
“I’m Mrs Weasley, but call me Molly. She’s a keeper Freddie,”
She gently tapped The Target on the cheek and walked off into the house.
“Hi Sophie, I’m going to go help Nana in the kitchen, bye,”
“Bye Roxy. So... this is the infamous Burrow, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s where every Weasley and Potter calls home,” I looked at The Target who was looking up at The Burrow with wistful eyes. Wow, must be a place of great memories. I’ve never looked at my grandparent’s house with the same gaze, I look at it with revulsion. It smells like old people and cats.
Our family has a thing for cats.
Cats don’t have a thing for me.
I know, bummer.
Without warning, The Target swept me up into his arms and I buried myself into his neck. I smelt his warm musky smell that always seemed to comfort me. I can never remember a time where Freddie didn’t smell like this, it was his special smell.
I wished that Alex Fenton my maths partner had a good smell.
He smelt like BO.
Aren’t I glad I have no maths until September. In about 3 weeks...
Why can’t summer last forever? Is that too much to ask?
“Let’s go inside shall we,” The Target suggested, breaking off the hug and gesturing to the front door left wide open by Duckie.
“Yes let’s,” Please God, let the Weasley’s accept me as a loveable oddball. My oddities aren’t too bad are they? Sure, I eat heaps, I dress in rags, I run around a lot, I’m obsessed with crime fictions and I’m cursed by a cat and a board but that doesn’t make me completely weird, does it?
Oh help me, I’m a psycho!
The Burrow was a warm homely place and smelt of clean beaches, fresh roses and desserts and cakes all at the same time. Nothing was organised, there was clothes draped over chairs and open book everywhere. The sofas were of a patchwork design, a mish mash of different materials and the ceiling sloped at a weird angle.
I loved it.
“Sorry about my Nan before, she seems to think we’re together, no matter how many times I told her,”
Me. And Freddie? Pfft, as if, he’s definitely not into the kooky, crazy type. I doubt anyone is. That’s why I’m going to end up alone with only Joey and my board for comfort. I have my life figured out.
Trust me on this one.
“Don’t worry, I know all about overbearing family members, are you forgetting my mother?”
It seems I’m funny too, because The Target laughed. Guys don’t like funny girls either do they, they think that they won’t seem as funny in comparison and guys have to be funny, or something like that. I read it on msn dating, it distracted me as I was going to log onto my mail account.
Basically, no one in their right mind would want to date me, I’m undateable and this includes Freddie. Besides, we have a platonic relationship, like brother and sister. He’s seen me shove peas up my nose.
“Now, before you meet my cousins and Aunts and Uncles, remember, our family is not normal, we have it all, the crazy, the superficial, the super smart, no one, and I’m stressing this, no one is normal, at all,”
Ah, The Target’s family’s a zoo, I didn’t need Ravi’s clothes or the speech and action therapy yesterday, it was all to waste. Damn, I didn’t have to wear a tank top and an above the knee skirt, it was all unnecessary.
I could be in my jeans right now.
This is suffering. True torture. Skirt’s are impractical, what if the wind blows and everyone sees your knickers, I love the person who came up with trousers, hate the person who came up with the skirt. And tank tops just show too much flesh. At least these weren’t spaghetti straps, I don’t really feel like exposing my bra straps at this moment.
“FAMILY MEETING! FAMILY MEETING IN THE LIVING ROOM! CALLING EVERY WOTTER-“
“Wotter?” It sounded like Water with a really bad accent.
“Yeah, Weasley-Potters, Wotters,” That cleared that up.
Who the heck are the Potters?
“EVERY WOTTER, EVERY MAN WOMAN AND CHILD, COME TO THE LIVING ROOM IMMEDIATELY!” It was a weird way of calling everybody together but I suppose it did the job. The house sounded like it was being shook by a herd of elephants. I hope the ceiling doesn’t decide to crash on me, I don’t want to die that way, I was going to grow old with Joey, remember?
Curse that cat.
And curse that darn board.
I should throw them both away. But then I might get more cursed, I don’t know how well cursed items react to being thrown out in the garbage. I don’t think it’s a good thing though, might be a sign of disrespect.
Soon enough, loads of people, and I mean loads, were in the living room, most sitting on the floor. All eyes were on The Target- he called the meeting- and me- they’ve never met me before. It was quite nerve wracking and I ended up playing with the hem of my skirt. The sea of people were a bizarre and wide mixture of people, White, Black, Asian, blondes, brunettes and an awful amount of redheads.
There were so many people, it was disconcerting. They’re all part of his family?! That’s insane.
He always said his family was big. He never said how big.
The silence was heavy. I never liked silences, they made me do something crazy to stop the awkwardness.
The Target cleared his throat and those who had their eyes on me switched their gaze to him. Phew.
“So, this is my best friend Sophie, Sophie, this is my family. You can all go back to doing whatever,”
I never thought I heard sweeter words in my life.
Most of the adults went off and did their own thing, an adolescent like me was of no importance to them, which would be good because hopefully they won’t be around when I screw up. Some of The Target’s cousins also went off, one so besotted with a book she was reading, she bumped into a wall and without breaking her eye contact with the page, continued on her way.
Now that’s talent.
A few came up to me and introduced themselves. I now knew Victoire ,who is the sweetest thing and so graceful too, she’s the bride, Teddy, who’s clumsy and loveable and could be my older brother if it weren’t for the blue hair, he’s the groom, Lily, whose personality is as fiery red as her hair, Rose who’s smart but doesn’t have to try, Lucy who’s a cute as heck and Albus, who’s awkwardly ambling through life.
I wouldn’t blame him with his name.
Freddie stuck by my side, directing me from cousin to cousin, his hand never leaving the small of my back. It was comforting to know that I had my best friend with me, someone who knew me so well, they knew of my aversion to meeting new people.
The final cousin who stayed to meet me was a blonde. And a boy. It’s very rare to see a blonde guy, so of course, he had to be related to The Target.
“Enchante mademoiselle,” Blondie lightly kissed my hand and I giggled. Oh Good God help me. I haven’t giggled since I turned 10, what’s wrong with me? Stupid French Blonde cousin of The Target.
« Au contraire, je ne sais pas vraiment, enchante? Je ne vais pas dire que, »
That’s better, calm and collected, no guy’s going to get me flustered. I’m Sophie Carter, detective extraordinaire, I kick ass, and I made the best sandcastles in the sand pit in Nursery. What are you going to say about that, huh?
“You speak French?” He asked, stumbling backwards. That shock you Blondie? Now you can’t use your French to woo me. Yeah, I said ‘woo’ in a sentence. I’m brilliant at French, not being pig headed or anything but it was one of those rare subjects that I excelled at. I would’ve gotten an A* rather than a B at GCSE if I hadn’t fallen asleep at the beginning of the listening exam- I blame Freddie, we were up all night on the phone. Somehow, he’d smuggled a phone into his school and I’ll be damned if I was going to pass up the chance to talk to my best mate. But still, I blame him.
And maybe Joey too.
“Yeah, close to fluent now,” Thank you A-Levels, you taught me something.
“Sophie,” And with that, we shook hands and parted our ways.
The Target took me on a tour around The Burrow which was as every bit original as the living room and clearly reflected the craziness of the occupants. When we reached the top floor, I swear I heard moaning from inside the attic and being an investigator, I was going to investigate but The Target ushered me on into his room, banging on the attic door with his fist when he thought I wasn’t looking.
What the heck could be moaning in the attic?! That’s not natural. That’s not natural at all, even for a Weasley.
The Target’s room was messy and eerily like his room at home except for the addition of more beds, he was clearly sharing this room with his other cousins. Underwear was everywhere and posters covered the wall. It looked like one of the posters was moving... I rubbed my eyes- nope, it was still moving, my my, this is what happens when I don’t have coffee.
I haven’t had coffee all morning.
“Soph, are you alright? You’re making this weird drooling sound, have you had your coffee?” I also tend to make noises too, good thing Freddie’s there to translate my abnormalities, otherwise I’d be a coffee deprived addict in a house full of strangers.
Though I wouldn’t be with the strangers if it weren’t for him.
So, whose fault is it? The F-Guru’s? The Target’s? Joey’s?
I’m veering towards Joey, that cat has it out for me, I swear.
But then Joey came from E-Bay.
Gah, this is annoying. I suppose if we want to look at the big picture, it’s all the guy who created the computer’s fault.
In reply to The Target’s question, I shook my head, a strange whimpering sound escaping from my lips. I’m fragile, I need my coffee.
“C’mon, I’ll take you to the kitchen,” So off we went. We got the coffee and satiated my cravings whilst I learnt that The Target’s Aunt Hermione is the cleverest woman of her generation and the only slightly normal one in the family, although Audrey, another Aunt of a certain friend o’ mine, also is normal, just not as much of a know it all.
The next two hours I got better acquainted with Freddie’s family, especially Victoire who wanted my opinion on everything, even after I told her I have no taste whatsoever. She was one of my favourites, she was always chastising Louis for something or other. If only I had a big sister like her...
I’d terrorise Dexter.
Lily was also another of my favourites, she was only 15 and two years below me but she owned the house, everyone was so afraid of her. I of course, had no such qualms and she’s a very good ally.
Apparently, there were more cousins to come though.
Vic and Louis’ sister Dominique.
Lucy’s sister Molly, the book reader.
Rose’s brother Hugo.
And finally Lily and Albus’ brother James.
Ah, well. Dominique was coming in from London, Molly was off reading, Hugo was getting a hair cut (?) and James was bringing somebody whose name I’ve forgotten.
So basically, I have to go through my episodes with new people. And they’ll be here within the hour to arrive for lunch. Because, and I quote Albus ‘Cooking doesn’t get much better than Nana Weasley’s’.
James and his plus one arrived first.
Him and The Target share a dorm at Hoggywarts. Imagine having to live with a member of your family and have to share classes with them. Being with them 100% of the time. I’d get sick of it, but that’s because my family is my family, they’re just off.
I just can’t live with my cousin Maude because a) her name’s Maude, does that not say anything? and b) she collects insects, I’m sure they’d escape and attack me in my sleep.
James had messy hair that stuck up at the back and the smirk of a prankster, I knew that smirk, it’s one that The Target and I have worn on many a mission against Darrell Farley. He really shouldn’t have flushed my Haribo ring down the toilet.
His plus one was a gorgeous blonde girl, who I supposed to be his girlfriend. She wore a baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts and I was insanely jealous of her ability to look stunning in shapeless clothes and of her ability to wear said shapeless clothes.
I wish I was in a t-shirt, but no. I’m going to have my revenge on Ravi.
James and The Target exchanged a man hug and manly slaps on the back. Then he went on to hug James’ girlfriend with one arm, the other waving me over.
“So, this is the infamous Sophie,” It’s phrases like that that worry me. What has Freddie been saying about me? If he’s being truthful, people will know I’m a crazy person that really should be in an institute and shouldn’t be in society.
“Yep,” I replied, popping the ‘p’.
“I’m James,” We shook hands. They were slightly callused but also soft. They were man’s hands. “Now, I want to hear the story from you, because Freddie’s not reliable,”
“Hey,” Oh, the cries of indignation.
“How exactly did Freddie get that scar?” Ah. That story.
It was a long time ago, when we were back in primary. The troublesome twosome they called us. We were partners in crime so to speak. So, when we had decided to raid Ms Shepherd’s cupboard to see what sweets she got us for Christmas that year, naturally we did it together. What we didn’t anticipate was Freddie’s paranoia, he jumped every time we heard footsteps. One time, he jumped very violently, knocking into me. I had scissors in my hand and... that’s how he got his scar.
We were lucky it missed his eye.
Not that that deterred us from causing chaos.
When I told the story, James and his girlfriend both roared into laughter.
“Oh Freddie, you silly scaredey cat,” The blonde girl said, clapping her hand on The Target’s shoulder, wiping away tears. She straightened up, still chuckling, whilst James was still bent over double, wheezing.
It must’ve been normal for him to have fits of laughter since no one looked at him weirdly. What kind of people have I befriended, people like me?
James was still on the floor. The term ROFL is definitely applicable in this case.
“Err, your boyfriend’s still laughing,” See, I’m a good Samaritan, pointing that out. I should get the Nobel Peace Prize for my work, saving an innocent child from the cusp of suffocation.
“James isn’t my boyfriend, ew, he’s like my brother,” Oh, whoops, typical Sophie Carter clanger, of course. No one brings their girlfriend home to meet the family at this age.
I have nothing to say.
What do I say to that? It even stopped James from laughing and from what I’ve seen, that’s an achievement.
“LUNCH IS READY!”
Phew, I’m saved by the mad rush for food. Wait, I want food too, I don’t want the scraps!
This is survival of the fittest, it’s the wild here.
A/N: Ah, I had to end the chapter here! This chapter was getting insanely long and I wanted to get a chapter in before the validators go on holiday. A very well deserved holiday because they read our chapters and make sure they’re fit for public viewing.
I’m sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been swamped with work. I literally had exam after exam but I finished today on the 20th so what better way to celebrate?! I’ve only got some Phys Ed coursework to complete then I’m done for summer so expect updates quicker now!
Part Two of this chapter will be coming soon, but I have to attend three weddings next week and drama rehearsals, I'm working backstage with costumes for Alice in Wonderland.
Remember to review, because I do read the reviews and reply to them. And I love reviews, they make me happy.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories