Image by Almathea@TDA
“Izzy.
Izzy. Isabella!”
“Go away,” I mumbled into my pillow.
“Isabella Grace, get your bottom out of bed before I drag you out myself!” said the stern voice of the one and only Rose Weasley.
I groaned loudly and turned over, opening my eyes. “I can’t get up,” I muttered.
Rose sighed. “And why is that, my lazy friend?”
I glared at her. “One: I am not lazy. Well, maybe I’m a little lazy, but that’s not the point. Two: if you want people to get up in the morning, then why on earth does your family have such squishy, comfortable beds? And three: WHY THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WAKING ME UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Izzy, it’s nine o’clock in the morning.”
“Exactly,” I said, drawing the covers up to my chin. “The middle of the night.”
“You’re impossible,” Rose muttered, standing up from her perch on the end of my bad, storming over to the window and roughly pulling the curtains open. Bright sunlight filtered into the room and I raised a hand to cover my eyes. “What are you trying to do, blind me?” I muttered. “Now go away, I’m trying to sleep.”
Another thing you should know about me, the amazing Isabella Grace: I’m not really a morning person. In fact, I’m positively cranky in the mornings. Even crankier than usual, which is saying something.
“Fine,” said Rose. “But I only came up to tell you mum’s making pancakes for breakfast. With berry sauce. And ice cream.”
I sat up in bed at once, letting my blankets fall away to my waist, revealing my purple pyjamas with pictures of dragons all over them.
Rose sniggered. “What on earth are you wearing?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said impatiently. “Did you say ice cream?”
Rose grinned. “Yep. But if you want to go back to sleep…”
“Get out of my way, biatch,” I said pleasantly, climbing out of bed and hurrying out into the hallway, still wearing my awesome dragon pyjamas.
I love ice cream. I’m obsessed with it.
To me, ice cream is what books are to Rose. Ice cream is what sparkly clothing is to Louis. It is my lifeline. It cheers me up when I’m down. And makes me happier when I’m already happy.
“Good morning, Isabella,” Mrs Weasley said as I comfortably plonked myself down at the kitchen table, next to Hugo who was writing a very long letter. “Did you have a good sleep?”
“Very good, thanks,” I said, as Rose meandered into the kitchen and sat down next to me. Mrs Weasley turned her backs to us to flip the pancakes and I glanced back in Hugo’s direction. “Hugo, my man!” I said loudly, and visibly saw Rose rolling her eyes. “What’s up, homey G?” I raised my hand for a fist pump, but Hugo just looked up from his letter with a slightly bewildered expression on his face.
Rude.
Sometimes I wonder whether that boy even knows how to talk.
“Who’re you writing that letter to, Hugo?” I asked curiously. I grinned cheekily and elbowed him in the ribs. “Are you writing to your girlfriend?”
Hugo grunted and continued writing. Jesus, that boy needs to learn some manners. I am a guest in this home, for crying out loud!
“Don’t be ridiculous, Iz,” Rose said, as Mrs Weasley placed a large plate of pancakes in the middle of the table. I shoved several onto my plate immediately. I’m a big fan of food. Food is what makes the world go round. Without food, we would all be dead.
I’m not kidding. We
would all be dead, because we would all have died from starvation.
“Hugo doesn’t have a girlfriend, do you Hugo?” Rose continued persistently, giving her younger brother one of those stern looks of hers.
Grunt.
“I think that means no,” Rose said as I spooned a large quantity of ice cream onto my pancakes.
“Maybe so,” I said wisely, looking intently at Hugo who was refusing to meet my eye. “You’re not gay are you, Hugo?”
“Who’s gay?” Mr Weasley asked curiously. He wandered into the kitchen wearing a pair of striped pyjamas and a confused expression. He sat down next to Hugo and loaded his plate with pancakes. “These smell great, Hermione!” he said eagerly, and I saw Mrs Weasley roll her eyes at her husband as he began shovelling food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten for weeks.
“Nobody’s gay, dad,” Rose said exasperatedly, shooting me a look.
I grinned at Mr Weasley. “We were just discussing the prospect that your son might possibly be gay.”
Mr Weasley choked on his pancake. “WHAT?!” he said loudly, and turned to stare at his son, a frazzled expression on his face. “WHAT?!”
“Dad, calm down!” said Rose. “Hugo is
not gay!”
“How do you
know?” I asked, very seriously.
Mr Weasley shook his head in horror. “Now Hugo, I have nothing against erm…gays…”
“The correct term is actually a homosexual,” said Mrs Weasley calmly, sitting down and helping herself to the pancakes. Which there weren’t any more of. “Ronald!” she said. “How many pancakes did you eat?”
“A few,” said Mr Weasley airily, brushing the question off. “Anyway, Hugo if you are…erm, homosexual, then you know you can tell us, right?”
Grunt.
Rose snorted. “Like Hugo would come out of the closet to
you dad. You have the tolerance of a spider monkey.”
“You know, spider monkey’s might have an extremely high tolerance, for all we know,” I pointed out. “The thing is they don’t talk, so we’ll never kn…OUCH! Rosie, why did you step on my foot?”
“You deserved it,” Rose said darkly.
“ANYWAY!” said Mr Weasley loudly. “Hugo, if you ever need to talk to your mother and I about your homosexual tendencies, then…”
“MERLIN'S BEARD!” shouted Hugo suddenly, and we all froze, astonished to hear him speaking. “I’M NOT GAY, OKAY? JESUS!”
We all continued to stare at him.
“Wow,” I murmured finally, and the Weasley family all turned to stare at me. “He speaks!”
Rose suddenly let out an ear piercing scream and I clapped my hands to my ears.
That woman has lungs. She should consider taking up opera singing. Except then I’d have to defriend her because I can’t stand people who sing in public. Honestly, singing drives me bonkers. Once, when I was about six years old, I was living with this reasonably nice foster family. At Christmas they dressed me up as a sheep and I had to go round the neighbourhood singing Christmas carols. It was absolutely humiliating. I think that’s where my dislike for singing comes from.
“Merlin Rosie, you almost gave me a heart attack,” I muttered, removing my hands from my ears and glaring at my best friend. “What on earth was all that about?”
Rose didn’t say anything. Instead she just raised a single, shaking arm and pointed directly at the open window. Three large, handsome barn owls were flying straight towards the kitchen. I instantly recognised them as Hogwarts school owls.
Oh jolly. Our Hogwarts letters were here.
I looked over at Rose and saw that she had suddenly gone all pale and clammy. She looked like she was about to start hyperventilating.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” she moaned, running her fingers through her red hair.
I knew what she was stressing about. When she opened her letter, she would find out whether or not she had become Head Girl.
I, on the other hand, had nothing to worry about. I had apparently lacked the necessary qualities to become a Gryffindor prefect, and therefore had no chance of becoming Head Girl.
Not that I’d want to be Head Girl anyway.
That would mean following the rules, getting top marks and paying attention in class-three of my least favourite things.
The owls flew in through the window and landed on the table. The middle owl had a letter that was addressed to me, so I detached it from its leg. Then the owl gave a dignified sort of hoot and flew off into the clear blue sky.
Meanwhile, Rose’s hands were shaking so badly as she struggled to retrieve her letter that she was shaking the whole owl, which was looking irritated.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I opened my own eyes and read the usual:
Dear Mrs Grace,
Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from Kings Cross station , platform nine and three quarters at eleven o’clock. A list of books for next year is enclosed.
Yours sincerely,
Professor N. Longbottom
Deputy Headmaster
“Oh my god!” Rose whispered in a very shaky voice and I looked up to see that her eyes had filled with tears. Oh shit. “Oh
god!”
And then she promptly buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
“Rosie, calm down!” I said in my best soothing voice, which was hard, as I’m not a particularly soothing person. I’m more the “stop your whinging, get up off your fat arse and do something about it” type of gal. “It’s-it’s okay. Everything will be alright. You’re already a prefect, you don’t need to Head Girl as well…”
Rose looked up at me and I was surprised to see that she was smiling.
Okay. I’m really confused now. Rose is displaying signs of multiple-personality disorder. Maybe she should see a doctor?
“I did it, Izzy!” she said, her eyes shining. “I’m Head Girl!”
I stared at her. “What?”
“Oh,
Rosie!” cried Mrs Weasley, looking beside herself with happiness. “You’re
not?”
Rose nodded happily and held up her shiny Head Girl badge, for us all to see. Mrs Weasley promptly jumped out of her chair and swept Rose into a loving hug. Mr Weasley said “Always new you had it in you, Rosie” and Hugo made an approving sort of grunting noise, which might have been his attempt at congratulations.
I looked down at my empty plate, suddenly feeling like I was intruding on the Weasley family happiness.
What would Pauline, the raging bitch from hell, have done if I’d announced to her I had been made Head Girl? Barked at me to stop bragging and go and prune the hedges probably.
When Mrs Weasley finally let go of Rose and began clearing up our empty dishes, Rose turned to smile at me, pinning her Head Girl badge to the front of her dress.
“Congratulations Rosie!” I said brightly, and I meant it. Rosie really deserved that badge.
“Thanks, Iz!” Rose beamed. “I just wonder who the Head Boy will be? We’ll have to spend a lot of time together.”
I screwed up my nose. “I just hope its not Malfoy. If McGonagall makes that twat Head Boy, I might strangle her with my shoe lace.”
Mr Weasley dropped his fork onto the table-it landed with a loud clatter. “Malfoy?” he said loudly. “
Malfoy’s a prefect?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “No, dad,” she said patiently. “We’re just hypothisising about…”
“Thank god!” said Mr Weasley loudly, and I heard Rose sigh. “If that slimy little git…”
“RONALD!” said Mrs Weasley loudly, and her husband grinned sheepishly. “Sorry dear.” He ruffled up Rose’s hair affectionately. “Rose, you're better than that piece of filth ever will be,” he said. “Just remember that.”
“Hear, hear!” I agreed, and Mr Weasley beamed at me.
***
Rose banged loudly on the door of the bathroom. “Hurry up, Izzy!” she hollered. “We’re leaving for Diagon Alley in…(there was a pause) five minutes!”
“Then leave without me! I never wanted to go shopping in the first place!” I shouted back.
Rose was waiting outside for me to get dressed when, in truth, I was already fully dressed and ready to go. I was just procrastinating. As I’ve already said before, shopping is my downfall. Especially when it involves clothes.
“Come on Iz!” shouted a new voice, though one I recognised instantly. “If you don’t get your little tooshie out here right now, I’m coming in myself!”
“What the fuck is Louis doing here?” I asked angrily.
“Now, now, young one,” said Louis calmly, and I could just see him smirking, even though there was a door shut between us. “That’s not the attitude to have. And you
know I just can’t resist a shopping trip!”
“There you go then!” I said. “Rose-you can go to Diagon Alley with your charming cousin. I’ll just stay here and…mope.”
I knew that Rose was rolling her eyes behind that locked door. “ I think we’re going to have to do it, Lou,” she said, very seriously.
“Right you are, Rosie,” agreed Louis, equally as seriously. “Do you want me to…”
“Yes,” said Rose. “I think you’d better.”
“What the fuck is going on out there?” I asked politely.
Such a sweet girl, that Isabella Grace. She’s one of those granny-loving, puppy-hugging, flower-sniffing angels.
Not.
“I’d step away from the door if I were you, Izzy!” Louis shouted.
It’s lucky he warned me because next moment the door swung backwards on its hinges before falling completely out of the doorframe, landing on the bathtub and exploding in a puff of red sparks and dust.
Coughing slightly, I turned my head to see Louis standing in front of the doorway, wand in hand, and Rose standing slightly behind him.
“LOUIS!” I shouted. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, YOU STUPID IDIOT?”
Louis pocketed his wand. Today he was wearing a black t-shirt, a large golden necklace with a money sign on it and jeans that were far too tight, if you get my drift.
That guy needs to sort out his personal style. I never know what to expect with him.
“I did warn you,” Louis said.
“YOU BLASTED THE DOOR DOWN YOU LOSER!” I shouted. I don’t usually shout this much, I swear! Shopping just puts me in a mood. “WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST USE ALOHOMORA YOU FIRST RATE MORON?”
“Calm down!” said Louis, looking slightly taken aback. “Don’t get your pantyhose in a wiggle!”
Grunting, I snatched my own wand from the bathroom bench and stormed out of the room.
Louis grinned at Rose. “Don't worry, I'll pay for the damage,” he said, shrugging apologetically.
“Why is there a tattoo on your arm?” I snapped, pointing to Louis’ left arm where a mass of dark lines run up to his elbow
“Oh yeah!” grinned Louis. “Cool, isn’t it? It's a death eater tattoo. Uncle George sells them at his shop.”
I snorted, and folded my arms across my chest. "You do realise that tattoo is pretty much the symbol for all the despair and misery your family went through a few years back, right?"
"Yeah. Uncle George thought people would get a kick out of them."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
“Oh Izzy, don’t sulk,” Rose sighed.
“Can we just go already?” I sulked. “I want to get this shopping trip over and done with.”
No wonder I’ve got so many friends. I’m such a pleasant person to be around. I light up every room I enter with my witty humour and unbeatable kindness.
“I think it’s that time of the month,” I heard Louis whisper to Rose as we walked down the stairs.
I threw my wand at his back.
Idiot.
***
Diagon Alley was packed, which was not at all surprising, considering there were only a few short days left until we went back to school.
“I hate shopping,” I muttered savagely, stomping past a young girl who was begging her exhausted looking mother for a new owl.
“We know, Izzy,” Rose sighed, exchanging a meaningful look with Louis. “You’ve told us that at least a hundred times.”
I chose to ignore this statement. “Wish I had enough money to buy an owl,” I continued grumpily, staring back at the little girl who was now whining loudly. “Wish I had enough money to buy
anything.”
Because I’d now spent all my money on a new pot for Pauline and my ride on the Knight Bus, I literally had nothing left. Zilch. Zero. Nada. Naught. Ni…
Okay, you get the point. I don’t need to demonstrate my literary skills in order for you to understand that I’m poor. Beyond poor. And because of my poorness, I’ve already had to use the Hogwarts trust fund to buy all my school supplies.
“Oh cheer up, Izzy!” Rose said sympathically. “It’s nearly our birthday! You’re going to be seventeen in two days time! Think of the possibilities!”
“Yeah,” I said, perking up a bit. “Yeah, you’re right. Once I’m seventeen I’ll legally be able to do magic outside of school-I’ll be able to confund people, and then steal money off them!”
Rose rolled her eyes. “That, my retarded friend, would be stealing. And you don’t even know how to do a Confundus Charm, we haven’t learnt how to yet.”
“Ouch, retarded!” I said, mock wincing. “That hurts, Rosie!”
“Oooh, look!” said Louis suddenly, clapping his hands together and looking overly girly.
Rose and I both turned to see what he was pointing at.
My mouth dropped open.
And not in a good way, I can assure you.
I didn’t know how I had missed it-the most outrageous looking shop I had ever seen.
It was painted bright purple and was decorated with glitter-yes,
glitter. There was a large stone statue standing outside of this shop. It was of a panda. This panda was wearing high heeled shows, a feather boa and a pink dress.
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. My eyes passed over Louis’ delighted expression and landed on Rose, who looked just as shocked and appalled as I felt.
“Um…?” I finally managed to get out.
“Isn’t it great?” beamed Louis, missing the looks of disgust on mine and Rose’s faces.
“Lovely,” I choked out.
“Yes…” murmured Rose, who looked as though she were about to burst out laughing. “It’s very…very…”
“Unusual?” I suggest, my lips twitching.
“This is my new favourite shop!” Louis continued. “Gideon’s Glitz and Glamour!”
I groaned inwardly. Great. So
this was where Louis had found his sparkling jacket and hat from.
“Come on, let’s go in!” Louis continued eagerly, ushering Rose and I inside.
“Louis, this is a bad idea!” I said firmly, trying to escape from his strong arms. “This shop looks far too expensive for me!”
“Don’t be silly!” said Louis. “I’ll pay for anything you want to buy. You have to look beautiful on your birthday, Iz! And we all know you’re severely lacking in that department.”
I stopped struggling to glare at him in disgust. “What do you mean ‘lacking in that department’?” I asked viciously.
Louis didn’t seem put-off by my dangerous tone. He shrugged and said; “Well, you could make a little more effort with your appearance Izzy. You can’t just go round wearing jeans and t-shirts for the rest of your life!”
“There’s nothing wrong with jeans and t-shirts!” I spat.
“Okay, let’s just look around, shall we?” suggested Rose quickly, and I realised we were inside the shop which was, if possible, even worse than it looked from the outside.
I felt as though I had just walked into an explosion of colour. Or possibly Louis’s bedroom. I’ve never been in Louis’s bedroom before, but I’d imagine it would look just like this.
Like the outside of the shop, the walls were painted a bright, lurid purple. There were racks upon racks of clothing-and every single item either glittered, sparkled or shone.
I could see why Louis was so enthusiastic about the place. He really should nickname himself ‘Sparkle’.
Actually, I might start calling him that. It has a certain ring to it…
Louis suddenly gasped, and hurried over to the nearest rack of clothing, where he pulled out what seemed to be a green jacket made out of dragon skin. “Isn’t this
gorg!” he gushed, hurrying over to Rose and I and holding it up against him.
“Dude, you have got to stop saying that,” I muttered, and heard Rose giggle.
“I have like, two outfits I could co-ordinate it with!” Louis continued excitedly, admiring his reflection in the nearest mirror.
I gave him a hard slap right across the face.
“OW!” Louis cried out, rubbing his cheek. “Merlin’s beard, Iz, what was that for?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Louis, you are a man. Men to not admire themselves in mirrors or get excited over shopping in places which have purple painted walls.”
“I still think that slap was unjustified,” said Louis stubbornly.
“I’ve got my wand with me,” I said threateningly. “I can use it if you want?”
“Ooo-kay guys,” said Rose, waving her hands about as though we’d forgotten she was there. “Maybe we should give this place a chance, Izzy. There might be something here that we can wear to our party.”
“I severely doubt that,” I muttered, but followed Rose to the back of the shop anyway.
Here’s the thing. I’m not a girly girl. I don’t like make up and I certainly don’t like dresses. If it was up to me, I’d be perfectly happy to wear pyjamas for the rest of my life. They’re comfortable and don’t make breathing difficult after you’ve had a few too many helpings of treacle tart.
“Is there anything I can help you ladies with?”
An eager looking shop assistant hurried over to us. She had spiky blonde hair and was wearing lilac robes which appeared to be made out of silk.
I was about to say “no, we’re actually just about to leave” but Louis got there before me. “Yes please,” he said pleasantly. “My friends are looking for two
fabulous dresses they can wear to a party this weekend. Do you have anything suitable?”
“Of course,” smiled the assistant, and led us over to a large selection of glamorous looking dresses and ball gowns that I could not see myself wearing. I glared at Louis and fought the urge to vomit.
Then again, if I vomited all over the shop, we’d probably be forced to leave.
The three of us watched as the assistant began pulling down dresses from the racks. “Try these on,” she said, shoving a large pile of clothing at Rose who staggered under the weight, but obediently went into the changing rooms and closed the curtain behind her.
I, on the other hand, flopped down on a cushy armchair, folded my arms stubbornly and stared at my sneakers which were, incidentally, covered in dirt.
“Hmmm,” said the assistant, looking me up and down. “You’re a difficult one, aren’t you?”
I glared at her immediately and heard Louis mutter “Oh boy” under his breath. Prick. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked the assistant fiercely.
“Well you
could be pretty if you brushed your hair once in a while,” the assistant said, eying my knotted mop with distaste. “And went to the effort of putting on a little make up.”
“Well,
excuse me, but I prefer the
au natural look!” I said crossly, my dislike of the assistant mounting. “Anyway, make up’s bad for your skin. And I’m totally against testing on animals.”
The assistant chose to ignore me. “The problem is your figure,” she continued, and I wondered why she felt the need to insult me even more. “You’re very tall with very little shape and a small bust. In fact…”
“WOAH!” I said loudly, making both the assistant and Louis jump. “That is over the line, woman. You can’t just walk in here, to my home and start throwing insults at me! And for your information, I have a perfectly nice bust! And I’m not
that tall-not quite six feet!”
Louis coughed loudly. “Um…sorry Iz, but this isn’t actually your home. And you’re the one who walked in here, not…”
“Shut it, Sparkle,” I growled viciously.
Louis smirked. “Sparkle?”
The assistant merely looked bored at my outburst. “Try this on,” she said, shoving a very short purple dress at me. The material was cold and shiny.
I glared down at it, as though hoping I could burn through the material with my eyes. “This is a shirt,” I said. “Not a dress.”
“Just try it on!” the assistant and Louis chorused.
“Fine!” I snapped. “Jeez!”
I stormed into the changing room next to Rose and pulled the curtains closed. I was now in a small room, painted powder pink. There was a large mirror, so I turned away from it, stripped into my underwear and quickly pulled on the dress.
Then I turned back to the mirror. “Merlin’s beard!” I yelped loudly, then slapped a hand to my mouth.
“Everything all right in there, Izzy?” Louis called.
“BUGGER OFF PERVERT!” I shouted because I was in a bad mood and, well, I just like shouting, to be perfectly honest. Sue me.
The dress was ridiculously short. I had never worn something that revealed so much thigh in all my life. It also had a very low back, and I could feel the tips of my dark hair tickling my bare skin.
“What does it look like, Izzy?” Rose asked-I could hear that she was just outside the door.
“Awful!” I said. “I’m taking it off right now. I refuse to buy it!”
“Don’t you dare take that dress off, Isabella Grace!” said Rose sternly. “I’m coming in there!”
And with that, she swept open the curtains of my changing room and stepped inside.
“ROSIE!” I screamed, folding my arms across my chest. “I could’ve been naked!”
Rose ignored me.
Merlin, why is everyone ignoring me today? Am I a bad person? Was I a puppy killer in a former life?
“Izzy, you look beautiful,” she said softly, gently turning me around so that I was facing her.
I snorted. Yes, you heard right, I
snorted. Snorting is seriously underrated. You can get so many emotions out of one snort-disgust, disbelief, humour, the list goes on.
“I look like a right moron,” I said. “I’m putting this back right now.”
“Oh, no you're not,” said Rose firmly. “I’m going to make you buy this dress if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“And how are you going to do that, exactly?”
Rose looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she smiled and said; “If you buy it, I’ll buy you a double chocolate ice cream with hot fudge sauce and chopped nuts in a waffle cone from Florean Fortesque’s.”
“Done,” I said immediately, and Rose beamed.
What? How could I say no to ice cream and chocolate-
combined? I’d have to be a crazy person.
A/N: Hello again! So...what did you think of Chapter Three?
Do you have any new opinions on Izzy, Rose or Louis? Any predictions for what will happen in next chapter? (next chapter is Rose and Izzy's party.)
I hope you enjoyed, please remember to review!
Courtney:)
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