I closed my mouth, my eyes narrowing as I stared at her. She simply smirked back, arms crossed, hips at an angle.
“Fine.” I ground out, fists clenching and unclenching at my sides.
“Good. I’m going to enjoy this.” She rubbed her hands together gleefully.
“Follow me! We’re going to clean you up.” She turned on her heel and practically skipped towards The Burrow.
“Woah, Kenzie, why’d you agree to that?” Al asked. Him, James and the twins were staring at me.
“You’ve never been on the receiving end of her or else’s, have you?” I asked them, shuddering involuntarily. They all shook their heads. “First year. She told me to get off of the bed she’d chosen, or else. I didn’t. I woke up the next morning staring down at said bed with my wrists and ankles tied to the posts. When she let me down I discovered she’d shaved all my hair off. I spelled it back on and thought that was the end of it, but then when I walked past a Care of Magical Creatures class I discovered she’d doused my entire wardrobe in Flobberworm hormones. I ended up being chased into the forbidden forest by them and sufficiently coated in slime. Hagrid had to carry me back to the castle because my arms and legs were stuck together and I then spent a week in the infirmary because Pomfrey couldn’t unstick my eyes, fingers and lips. And ever since then, me and her have been best friends.”
The four of them gaped at me. “Why on earth would be best friends with her after she did that to you?” Lorcan asked.
I shrugged, starting towards the house. “I figured if I befriended her, she’d never do anything like that to me again. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to risk it. I’ll see you later, yeah?” I waved, jogging backwards and they all nodded. I grinned, turning the right way and sprinting up to the house.
“Hello?” I yelled as I walked through the back door into the kitchen. “Oh! Hey Gram’ma!” I pressed a quick kiss to the ageing Weasley’s cheek as I walked past her. “Need help with anything?”
“No, no Dear. You carry on and go find Dommie. She looked like she was on a mission, wouldn’t want to get in her way.” She winked at me over the rim of her glasses as she continued to knit, potatoes boiling contently behind her and what smelt like lamb and Yorkshire puddings in the oven.
“Alright Gram’ma. But you give me a shout if you need anything, okay?” I grinned and she nodded, waving me away, a smile on her face. I kicked my shoes off in the hallway, adding my hole filled converse to the already overflowing pile.
“Alright Kenzie?” I heard from the sitting room, and I swung on the doorframe as I passed, sticking my head through the gap. Fred was lounging in the comfy chair, his parents on the sofa with Roxanne draped over them, her mother combing through her black locks.
“Yeah ta Uncle Fred. A bit upset about the whole milkshake thing, but I’ll live to see another MacDonalds.”
“Milkshake thing?” Angelina asked, raising an eyebrow.
I faked embarrassment. “Yeah. Freddy made me laugh so hard I dropped my milkshake.” She pursed her lips and turned to look at the by now cowering slightly in the chair beside her. She knew her son well enough to know that he was probably pissing about so this was technically his fault. That and she adored me and always sided with me.
“You’ll buy her a new one next time you’re in town together, got it?”
“Yes mum.” He muttered, scowling at me when his mother turned back to face me.
“Thank you Auntie A!” I sang, “Gotta go find Dom before she throws a hissy fit.” I said, grimacing as I turned and sprinted up the stairs. Then another flight, and then another flight, before finally reaching the right floor and sprinting down the corridor. I skidded to a halt outside Dom’s surrogate room and knocked three times, breathing heavily. I bloody hated how tall and skinny The Burrow is. The door was flung open and she grinned manically when she saw who it was and tugged me inside, practically throwing me into a chair.
She circled me like a vulture, pinching and prodding here and there, making me wince and scowl. “Right! What to do? Sort out a haircut. Get Vic to sort you out a skin regime. Take you shopping for a new wardrobe. Teach you proper etiquette. Get you in a shower.” She sniffed, and then wrinkled her nose. “Shower first. Definitely.” I opened my mouth to protest. “You can use my shower and toiletries, and you can borrow my clothes. Just go. Now. Lunch will be ready soon.” She shoved me into her en-suite bathroom, chucking towels and a pile of clothes in after me. “Wash all over, use my deodorant and get dressed. Then come out and I’ll do your hair for you, okay? Okay.”
I heard the tap of a wand against the door, and next thing I knew the shower was on full blast and steam was surrounding me.
“Bloody Dom, bloody boys, bloody fucking bet!” I seethed, stripping off my clothes, chucking them in the corner and stepping under the spray. I watched the mud mingle with the water as it spiraled down the plughole. I could feel my muscles relaxing and I rolled my shoulders, feeling the Dom-stress ebb away. I grabbed a sponge and some shower gel and started scrubbing my skin, humming as I did. I then washed my hair, ‘Shampoo twice! And leave the conditioner in for a bit!’ Dom yelled through the door, I did so and was quite worried as to how exactly she knew I’d started on my hair. 10 minutes after entering, I emerged from the bathroom; glaring at Dom after I’d changed into the clothes she’d given me.
“I am not. I repeat, NOT wearing this down to dinner with your bloody family.” I tugged at the denim shorts. “These barely cover my fucking ovaries, Dominique Weasley. And this” I gestured to the tight black cami with Wicked Witch emblazoned across it “would give Papa Weasley a fucking heart attack.”
“You can change the top if you keep the shorts. You have killer legs.” She said, examining me. “That or no deal. I’ll drag you down there right now.” She started towards me and I skipped back a few steps.
“Okay! Okay. Just… Gimme a minute.” I stalked over to her wardrobe, flinging the doors open. I scanned the racks, looking for something long and baggy that would at least reach mid-thigh.
“I don’t own anything long and baggy that’ll reach mid thigh.” She sighed, plugging in her hairdryer.
“How do you do that?” I asked, removing a lumberjack shirt and a plain white tank top from the rack, and quickly replacing the cami with them.
She shrugged, “Veela skills and stuff, yanno? And not a bad choice, still got some of your old self going on but definitely more girly. We’re getting there.” She grinned, “I’m proud of you! Now sit down so I can do your hair.”
I sat obediently, letting her have her way with my birds nest. It was a one time only thing. I insisted she talk me though it so it would look like I’d do it again myself next time when in reality the regime would probably be replaced by a new Quidditch play for next year. I’m not going to lie and say that I hated the result; in fact I absolutely loved it. The only downside was that it was completely and utterly not me.
Mackenzie Haines never had soft chocolate curls that fell in delicate waves around her shoulders. Mackenzie Haines never wore make-up (Dom forced me). And Mackenzie Haines never ever caused a table full of Wotters to stop and stare when she was dragged unwillingly into their kitchen.
I shifted uncomfortably under their silent stares. It was broken by a low whistle from Freddy that caused Angie to slap him round the back of the head.
“Bloody hell Dom, you sure did a number on Kenzie.” He said, grinning like a shark as he massaged the spot his mother had assaulted.
“I’m extremely proud of it. She’s like my new project!” She practically squealed and pulled me into a hug that nearly broke my ribs.
“Yeah and your new project hates being just that.” I muttered, wriggling free and stalking to the other end of the table. I sat down heavily next to Louis, piling my plate with everything I could reach and digging in. “Your sister’s a complete fucking psycho.” I told him.
“Uhuh.” He said, staring at me, blue eyes wide.
I chewed, staring back at him. I swallowed. “What, Louis.”
He shifted closer and leant in, only stopping when his face was about a centimeter away from mine. My eyes were wide, my breath was being held and I could feel all the other Wotter children staring at the pair of us.
“You look like a proper girl.” He said dreamily. “And you’re a really, really fit one. How come you’ve never let Dom make you over before? You look so much better like this.”
A raw steak that was meant for the next Sunday lunch spent the rest of the evening sat on Louis face, covering what looked to be a promising black eye. I regretted nothing.
Authors note: please please please review! it's the only way i know people are liking what they read, and it encourages me to write new chapters. c:
Printer Friendly Version
