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Your Average Crazy by SunnyWitch
Chapter 2 : The Extreme Consequences of Doom
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 6

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A - MAZ - ING chapter image by Schultz. at TDA! 


All the cute, tiny, incy-mincy little first years scattered.

Hell yeah, that's right.

Be afraid.

Be very afraid. (Of the Willow-nator360.)

“FRED YOU ARSE! YOU TWO FACED, DOUBLE CROSSING SON-OF-A-”  my sentence was cut off as I tripped over a Fred-shaped cushion.

“FRED-” hang on, that was Fred.


“Oh dear, what did I do this time? Is this about your bras hanging from the Astronomy Tower? Speaking of bras, you do realise what you're wearing, right?”

I breathed heavily for a minute. I was still on the floor. Being extremely intimidating. Not.


Little first and second years shit themselves. Get over it, midgets. Considering the circumstances, my language wasn't so bad.

“You fucking bastard.”

Gasps were emitted from the dwarves' mouths.

Ha ha. Dwarves.

I stood up. Being about two foot shorter than your average Fred, I doubt this did anything to improve my impressiveness.

“You're coming with me."

“No, I'm not. I'm staying right here."

My arse you are, Fred Weasley.

Levicorpus, I thought.

A split second later, Fred was dangling – mid-air – by his ankle. He crossed his arms.

“You're going to have to let me down eventually, you know?”

I didn't reply. Instead, I strode up the stairs to the girl's dorms, Fred following – against his will, of course – leaving a mass of scarred midgets and very confused Gryffindors in my wake.

I flung open the bathroom door. If anybody hadn't noticed already, I was in a rage.

“Fred,” I let him drop with a sort of vengeance, “you have explaining to do.”

“Willow... Please don't do this,” pleaded Bella.

Bella, seriously, you're pregnant because of Fred. Let your best friend kill him, please.

“Your girlfriend,” I hissed, “is fucking knocked up, okay?” Bella started sobbing.

“Please, Willow, back off,” she cried.

“Bella, I am fucking pissed off, okay? This isn't your problem.”

“Will...this is sort of my problem.” I was aware of myself - what was I doing? - but from a detached perspective. I couldn't stop, even if I'd wanted to.

Meanwhile, Fred was staring – rather gobsmacked (I've always wanted to use that word, honestly – it's just awesome) at Bella.

“That's right,” I told him, holding back tears, “she's got a bun in the oven, she's eating for two, she's knocked up, she-“

“- Bella? I'm here for you, you know that? Everything is going to be fine.” I was cut off rather rudely.

“I'll.. um... just go then.” I stammered, tears flowing freely now, as I walked out. I was not in the mood to see Fred and Bella's tongues in action.

“Oh, uh... Willow? Your bras are kind of... hanging from the Astronomy Tower? You might want to go and get them.” Fred reminded me hesitantly.

“I don't a give a fuck.”

I didn't. I mean, I never cared what people thought about me, but I was almost in negative not-giving-a-fuck mode.


I stormed into the Great Hall. I'd grabbed a T-shirt and shorts on my way, but I probably looked like crap anyway. Purple bags under my eyes, crazily bad hair, you know, that sort of thing. I was still raging – not exactly in the state to make reasonable judgement. But hey, my fellow students already knew I was weird, from the whole 'Turning Donna Froumen Into A Giant Frog In Front Of The Whole School Incident'. Plus that time when I crashed a broom into the staff table. So it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise when I, eyes red and sore from crying, totally and completely embarrassed Rose.

“ROSE WEASLEY! USE PROTECTION! I'LL MURDER YOU IF YOU GET PREG-” I was cut off by a certain Roxanne Weasley, who – possibly wisely – clapped a hand over my mouth, dragged me to a more secluded area of hallway, and plonked me on the floor. Rox, being the star Keeper of the Claw Quidditch team, was tough. Being approximately five foot seven, with glossy, dark brown mid-waist length hair, she was pretty, which made a lot of people underestimate her. But she was not to be messed with.

She then proceeded to take off her sock and gag me with it.

“Willow. I get that you're upset about Fred and Bella dating, but you really need to get over it. Everyone saw it coming, and he is my twin. Now, you're upset, you haven't had any sleep, and you're probably in shock,” I glared balefully. I was in shock all right, but not because of them simply dating, “but honestly, it's not your decision, people make choices all the time. You don't have to like it, but-”

I wriggled my hands free, and tore off my gag.


Sock toothpaste.

Toe jam.


“Are you done?” I asked, quietly and calmly.

“Maybe?” Roxy was wary. Good on her. She was learning.

“I may be upset about my best friend not telling me about her boyfriend for a year and a half, and you may not think that I have any right to be upset over that, but that is not why I'm mad at the moment.”

Roxy hesitated. She could sense that something wasn't quite right, but she had no idea what.

“You know what?” I asked, rhetorically. “If you're going to just jump to conclusions like that, I won't tell you. Ask Bella, instead.”


She was starting to apologise, I could tell.

I was too upset to care.

“Goodbye, Roxanne. Have a nice life.”

I stormed off.


For the next week, I avoided all signs of humanoid lifeforms. Well, apart from James, Jackson, Lance, Tyler, Robby and Hamish. I just camped out in their dormitory. It was Fred's dormitory too, but I didn't see him. I slept on the floor, ate whatever food they brought me and didn't show up to any classes.

Eventually, I guess the teachers got sick of it, so they sent up Professor Longbottom.


“Willow,” he called.

“I'm here.”

“Are you sick?”


“Have you had bad news?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. So go away.”

He eyed me with distaste and apprehension. I was lying down on the top bunk.

“I'm depressed. Piss off.”

“Language, Willow!”

“Oh-my-gosh! I'm so fucking sorry. What are you going to do, make me write out lines?”

He ignored that. I kind of felt bad. Longbottom was a good person, really. I was friends with his daughter, Alice, who was in Hufflepuff.

“Your friends miss you.”


“Your Quidditch team needs you in two days. There's a match; against Slytherin. Your first match against your little brother.”

I perked up a bit. I'd known that Nathan was trying out for Chaser this year.

Damn bugger for getting the Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin, though. Could have used him on our side.

“I'll be up by tonight,” I promised. “Is Bella okay?”

“She's fine, why?”

 So he didn't know, then.

“No reason.”



I lay on my bed.

Sue me, I'm lazy.

It's genetic.


James entered the dorm.

“Yes, I'm getting up.”

“Good. 'Cause if you'd brushed your hair and had a shower for nothing I'd have been worried.”

“Arsehole,” I muttered, “I often brush my hair and have a shower, for your information.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night, Jane.”

 I scowled. He did not just say my middle name.

“I sleep very well at night, thanks.”

“Apart from when you go about terrorising innocent people in your underwear.”

“Innocent my arse, Potter.”

“Yeah, everybody could see your arse, Greenie.”

“Shut up,” I said as I entered the Common Room.

“Remember, Quidditch practice in 20 minutes,” James called.

Everybody went silent.

“You know, I just love it when I enter a room and suddenly the atmosphere is just so awkward! It really brightens my day!”

Everyone continued with their little activities.

Except Roxanne. Roxanne was approaching.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, extraordinarily conversationally.

“I have contacts.” We stood there in silence. Awkward. “Look, Willow, I'm sorry. I found out what's going on... Look, I'm just sorry. I yelled a lot too, at Fred.”

“Apology accepted. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have Quidditch practice in about fifteen minutes, and if I'm not there, Wood isn't going to be happy.”



Olivia Wood was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She was in seventh, and had been Captain since her fourth year. She was ferocious, off as well as on the pitch, and not one of us dared cross her when it came to Quidditch. As people said, it was a father-like-daughter scenario. Apparently, back in the day, her daddy had been Gryffindor Captain, too.

I hurried down, didn't bother getting changed, grabbed my Beater's club slash weapon, and interrupted Wood halfway through her speech about new talent and Slytherin's attacking style.

“You can add something to this, can't you, Willow?” piped up little Cody Creevey, a third year who was surprisingly agile in the air, and fantastic at snitch-catching.

“Oh, um... yeah what?” Just look at my fabulous speech-making skills. An example of them, right there.

“Your brother, what's his style?” I swear Wood perked her ears up in anticipation.

“Well, he's very fast. Gets distracted easily. He won't drop it, but if you put enough pressure on him, you'll have an opportunity to steal the Quaffle. He likes solo runs – pretty good at it, too – but he won't use the other Chasers as much as he should. He also aims towards the left hoop, so, James, if you just feint to the right – your left – then you should be fine. If you have the Quaffle,” I motioned to the three Chasers: Jessica Lane, Donna Keppler and Olivia Wood, “he'll try to drop in from the top, not the side.”

“Nice work, Green.” This, coming from Olivia, was about the highest level of praise I'd ever received.

“Yeah, well. In the summer holidays we practically live at the Wotter's. Isn't that right, Dom? Quidditch matches all the time."

I nodded at Dom, and looked about for James.

He wasn't there.


“Where's James?” I asked. “I saw him about 20 minutes ago.”

“Oh, um, I dunno? Maybe he lost his Quidditch gear?” Dom, I know something's up. No need to make excuses for him.

“Now, everybody, three laps around the Quidditch Pitch. Fastest person doesn't have to do laps next session.” Everyone and I picked up brooms. “Except you, Green. I want a word with you.”


Wood and I watched our team members kick off, and zoom around the pitch.


“Now, Willow... Are the rumours true?” I froze.


What fucking rumours?


“Are you really pregnant?”


Fucking hell. So this is what happens when you don't show up to classes for a week. I let out a short laugh.


It sounded like I was barking. Or barfing. Or both.


“No, I'm not. Trust me.”


Being a virgin, that would be very hard.


“Good, I'd hate to lose you.” This had to be the most sentimental statement ever to leave Olivia Wood's mouth in the form of English.

I was touched.

“Now get your arse up there, Green. I expect you to knock your brother out of the sky on Monday, so you better get practising.”




Two hours later, and I'd never been so sore in my life. If there was an award, or a medal for the sorest sixth year Quidditch player, I'd be crowned winner.

Yeah, whatever.

If Wood expected us to win in this condition, she was heading in the direction of 'sorely disappointed'.

I sighed, as I trudged my way up to Gryffindor Tower, closely followed by Dom.
Dom was a good beater. You wouldn't think it, really, being in seventh year, with her face buried in two inches of make-up, and her beautiful, silver-blonde lengthy locks. I was insanely jealous of that hair. She was part Veela – drawing the opposite gender wherever she strolled. Her longest relationship lasted about three weeks, probably because she hadn’t even realise she'd agreed to go out with him.

Despite all of this, Dominique Weasley was a sweetheart.

And a real bitch. It all depended on whether or not she liked you. And your gender.

However, all in all, she could be rather blunt and insensitive.

“You're pregnant, aren't you?” She asked.

I shook my head. “No. That's just some rumour probably made up by some bitch who is completely jealous of me, and wants to ruin my life.” I try to inject some laughter into my dialogue, but it just came out flattened.

“If you're not pregnant, then why have you been living in my cousins' dormitory for the past week?”

“I found out about Bella and Fred.”

“That's seriously it?”

I hesitated. It wasn't up to me to inform Fred's family about him knocking up a chick.

“Yeah, I guess that sounds pretty stupid, when you think about it.” My voice left my mouth squeakily, like a chipmunk. Dom immediately knew something was up.

“So, you're telling me,” she started, suspiciously, “that is why you've been clinically depressed recently?”

“Yup.” I popped the 'p'. “Now, where was James during today's QP?”

“Quidditch practice? No idea.” Wow, she was a much better liar than I.

“Come on, Dom.”

“Fine. If you must know, he was trying to convince Rose and Bella to not be mad at you.”

“They're mad at me?”

“Of course. Bella because you read her diary and yelled at Fred, and Rose because of the Great Hall incident.”


“Now, personally, I think Bella doesn't have a right to be angry with you, but you may
want to apologise to Rose.”

“I will, don't worry. I was just upset, I wasn't thinking straight.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”




I burst into the Lion Den like a maniac. As I had suspected, Rose, James and Bella were all deep in conversation in the Common Room. Lily was there, too. They all shut up and looked up at me.

“Now,” I took a deep breath, “ I know you're mad at me, Rose, and I'm really, really, really, really sorry about that. You have rights to be pissed off. Bella, you, however... you don't have those rights. Yes, I was wrong in reading your private stuff. I'll admit that. But you shouldn't have kept the fact that you were dating Fred – for a year and a half – from me! And I'm sorry, James, for taking up your dorm space for the past week,” I added, for his benefit. I did feel guilty about that.

“Are you finished?” Bella asked.

“Yup,” I popped the 'p'. One of the many habits I was attempting to get round to fixing.

“Well, then, as we were discussing, we don't think it's exactly fair that you're going to be the one trailed by the pregnancy rumours, instead of me.” Bella continued.

“Bella; is this really the place?” Today, being Saturday – latish Saturday, even – was a day in which the Lion Den was filled with people.

“It's as good a place as any, Will. People are going to find out anyhow. Heck, in six months I'm going to look like a whale.”

There was an awkward silence as the little fourth and fifth midgets – anyone younger than me is automatically classified as a midget: size and stature is irrelevant – stopped talking and started paying attention to us.

“So, we decided that was punishment enough.”


Thanks for reading, if you could be bothered at all!

I know, not much of a story line so far, but I'm developing it.

Please review, any reviews are welcome, feedback, good or bad.

Any opinions of characters?

Do you love Willow? Hate her?

Do you like her Claw friends?



Thank you!

Cheers, SW.

Edit: By the way. Just going through and fixing stuff. Like my stupid (cough cough RARR cough cough) computer. Which seems to make my story have WAY more gappage than it should!





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