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Chapter 2 : The Rest of the Cast
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 9|
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Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything Harry Potter and is the Queen of the World. End of story.
A/N: Woah! You've made it to the second chapter! I promised Potter, so here's Potter! Also, thank you for all the super kind reviews! Voldemort hugs to all of you!
After shaking off the daze that Oscar Davies and my fall to the floor left me in, a lot of my previous anger at my brother returned. I stormed up to his dorm room, the farthest one up. I could hear his laugh coming from the room, how rude! While I'm dealing with a crisis of monumental proportions, he's having a right time being happy with life. This is not fair. Aren't twins supposed to have some sort of telepathy? If I'm feeling crummy because of him, I want him to feel just as crummy.
I open the door marked 7th Year, and am greeted with five boys staring up at me from a game of exploding snap. Closest to my feet is Elliot Jones, who is lowest on my prat scale (yes, I have a personal Pratometer, the prattier you get, the higher you go). Elliot is the quiet, intellectual one of the group, nose always in a book. In fact, right now, he's reading and playing exploding snap at the same time, and winning at that (not that he has much competition, considering his opponents). Bloody genius, is it any surprise he's Immy's study partner? He's the only person I know that spends as much time in the library as her. Now if he could only get up the courage to ask her out. Dom and I have been trying to set them up for years! We have plan to get them together, which is called Operation Book (don't even judge, we made up the name when we were uncreative fifth years).
"'lo Clara" said Nathan Wood, from beside Elliot. Only ranking a bit farther up on the Prat Scale, he's a fairly nice bloke if it weren't for his obsession with Quidditch. Not even playing it, that I could deal with. No, he's determined to make the world's fastest racing broom. This can get incredibly annoying when he suddenly gets a "spark of inspiration" during class and since he can't find any parchment, draws his sodding spark of inspiration all over your painstakingly detailed Transfiguration notes.
"Hey Clara, why did the Slytherins cross the road twice?" says Fred Weasley, one half of the school's infamous prankster duo. He seems to think he's a stand up comedian, a new joke every time you see him (none of which are funny, I might add), and he was permanently placed in the top five of my Pratometer in fifth year when he hit me with a bludger (I was in the stands for Merlin's sake!) and then had the nerve to laugh at my concussed state with Potter.
Speaking of, James Sirius Potter is without a doubt the most annoying, obnoxious, git-faced--well, I'll get to that later, because Fred might implode if I don't listen to his joke.
"Why?" I ask dryly.
"Because they're double crosser!" He yells out in excitement. The rest of the boys in the room roar with laughter, while I just stand there, unimpressed. "Get it?" he prods, "because they double-"
"Yeah Freddie, I get it" I cut him off, waving my Slytherin tie in his face. Even if he's the best at coming up with elaborate practical jokes, Fred isn't the smartest monkey in the barrel.
"...oooh." He stops laughing. "Well, pretend you weren't in Slytherin, then you'll find it funny."
"YOU!", I exclaim, finally spotting Carson, who is lounging on the floor between two beds, his back against one and his feet propped on the other.
"Hey sis, how's life in the dungeons?" He probably thought that was clever, but I was the one given all the smart genes, so he really shouldn't try with the remarks.
"Well, it was just great, until I got this", I say, brandishing the letter for all to see, and then shoving it in his face.
I stand over him with my arms crossed while he reads. Normally Carson is pretty low on my Prat scale, being related to me and all, he can't be too far up, but today he's skyrocketed to second place (someone's already nabbed first place permanently), due to this huge mess up.
I can tell when he gets to the last paragraph, because his eyes go wide and the colour drains from his face.
"Clara…" he says, adopting the slow voice that Albus and Scorpius are rather fond of. "I know this seems bad, but-"
"No, Carson, it doesn't seem bad, it is bad! End-of-the-world-Voldemort's-back-with-a-bunch-of-bloodthirsty-vampires bad! The holidays are supposed to be a time for relaxation and happiness and getting away from idiots like Potter!"
"Well, excuse me!" comes a voice from the next bed over, where Potter is sitting on his trunk. "I think I misheard, it sounded like you said that I'm the idiot in this equation," he says with a laugh.
Ignoring him, I keep my attention on Carson. If I play my cards right, I can get out of this with him doing all the work. "Look Car, you got me into this by basically suggesting to mom that-"
"I didn't tell her to invite you to James' house!"
"Thank merlin, I would have had to de-friend you if you did" said Potter with a dramatic sigh of relief. Seriously, butt out Potty, not your conversation!
"You still gave her the idea, so I'm holding you responsible, and now you have to fix it." I say, like a rational, mature adult. I'm handling this crisis way better than I thought I would.
"You know there's no way I can get you out of this"
Ok, screw the rational adult biz, we're pulling out the big guns, aka guilt cards and puppy dog eyes.
"There has to be some way to undo this. Christmas is my favourite holiday, it always has been. I just really don't want to spend it miserable." Ok, I suck at this guilt thing, "and what would make me most miserable is to be spending it at the Potters' house"
"Yeah, we're not thrilled at having you either" Potter interjected with an eye roll.
"Please Carson, I know you can convince her. Mum respects your opinion more than mine"
Carson's face immediately went from defensive to pitying. Huh, maybe I am good at guilt tripping. I could become a professional guilt tripper, trip people with their own guilt for a living.
"Fine," Carson finally conceded, "I'll write to mum"
"Thanks Car!" I exclaim, leaning down and giving him a quick hug. My brother's a pushover.
"How heartwarming," Potter says, coming up behind me and giving me this really weird pat on the back, because, really, when do Potter and I give each other friendly pats on the back? "Now you should go so we can finish our game before we graduate"
Not needing to be told twice, I sped out of there, thankful to breathe air that didn't smell like sweat and feet.
Stomach growling at a surprising volume, I decided to head down to dinner early.
People are staring. At me. It's incredibly suspicious. I'm not with Dom or Carson, so it's not like people are staring in my general direction, but at either of them. I've checked and I don't have anything on my face, and my skirt isn't tucked into my tights, so I'm at a loss. Maybe I'm just being paranoid…
Ok, I'm not being paranoid. Cornelia just passed me on the way to the Great Hall, laughing, and yelled "Caution everyone!". It's all very confusing.
When I walked into the dining hall, I made a beeline for Immy, and felt all eyes turn towards me after I passed, hearing lots of choked laughter. Seriously, what 's going on? Flopping down next to Immy, I'm about to ask her if she noticed this newfound attention I've somehow captured, when she reaches behind me and plucks something off my back.
It's a taped on piece of paper, which reads in flashing letters:
PMSing GIRL ON THE LOOSE
Fucking Potter. I look over and see him laughing it up at his table. He must have raced here through some shortcut just to see this. Ass.
Immy gives me a sympathetic little side hug as Dom comes running up to us and sits down on the bench beside me. "Did you guys hear about some girl with a sign on-" she stops abruptly when she sees the sign in question on the table in front of me. "Oh...well, that's awkward"
Thank you Dominique Weasley for this totally not-obvious observation. Dom and Immy look at each other and then, because my friends are so supportive, they start laughing. They keep up their little laugh fest for the rest of dinner, and the joke's on them because they were laughing so much they didn't get to finish their dinner and I stuffed myself full. I hope they'll regret their actions when they're desperately hungry tonight and someone won't share their stash of licorice wands.
On the way out of the Great Hall, we pass by the Gryffindor table, and I slap the sign onto Potter's back, and say"I think you put this on the wrong girl Potter, it was obviously meant for you" and walked out. Not my best, but I don't do well when thoroughly embarrassed.
Carson better get me out of staying at the Potters because I might explode if I have to be in close proximity to James-his annoyingness-Potter for the entire winter break.
A/N: Hope this wasn't too descriptive, and OC filled. Actual fun stuff (gasp!) coming up next! R&R s'il vous plait!
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