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Not Another Fairytale. by TheGirlOnFire
Chapter 1 : Once Upon A Time...
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 19


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Disclaimer:I own nothing you recognise Cinderella belongs to Charles Perrault.





 

Once upon a time, in a faraway castle there lived a small family: a king, his queen and their beautiful baby daughter called Theodosia (or Daisy as they had taken to calling her). After the birth of the little girl, the queen started to get sick. It was a time of desolation in the kingdom, but even though the family was going through something terrible they were always very happy.





A few years later, on the day that the queen was at her worst, she passed away, leaving the king and their little girl behind. The entire kingdom was in mourning for they loved their queen and were sad to see her go.





After the queen’s death the king became sad and isolated. He completely neglected his duty to his only daughter and neglected his duty as king.




After a few years, the king decided to remarry-to give his little girl a new mother and his kingdom a new queen. Once word had spread through the village that the King was looking for a new wife, all the eligible fair maidens lined up for a chance to marry the King. It took months and many, many banquets for the King to find the woman for him. In the end he chose a widowed single mother with two little girls: Lady Veronica Tremaine.





Daisy stood on the sidelines and watched as her father searched for this new queen, even though she hadn’t wanted a new mother. She stood and watched as her father married a superficial and wicked woman. Lady Tremaine as extremely horrid to the little girl. The new queen would use everything in her power to make her daughters the rightful heirs to the throne.





Then, during Daisy’s ninth winter, her father died; leaving everything, including Daisy, to Lady Tremaine.





I would like to say that the wicked queen was defeated, Daisy's Prince Charming saved her, and they all lived happily ever after, but I can’t, because we don’t live in a Wizney universe. There are no kings, princes, or queens. In my life, there are only wicked stepmothers; evil step-sisters and mortal enemies in the form of teenage boys.





But that’s a tale for another day. Before we begin and tread further into my story, let me introduce myself. My name is Theodosia Hunter III. Yeah, don't laugh. I'm named after my great-grandma Elizabeth Theodosia Hunter. I didn’t know her, but my dad claimed that she wasn’t very nice. Why he named me after her, I don’t know. No, actually,I do know-it was ‘tradition’ to name one’s first child after a ‘treasured’ family member. That’s pretty much the response I got when I asked why the heck I was named Theodosia. It’s a great name,right?







...

























Yeah.





***


The last day of summer, as tradition (I do see the irony) dictates, was spent having a sleepover. My best friend Rose Weasley and I had our first sleepover on the last day of summer before our second year. Since then, more people have been accumulated, mainly her cousins. That family is way too close. Over the years, her female cousins Dom and Roxy were invited; Roxy’s brother, Fred, overheard and decided to invite himself and James Potter II (his partner in crime). They came with toilet paper. I won’t say what they did with it because we all decided never to speak of it again. James invited Connor and Declan Finnegan (they’re twins), the other half of their group of social deviants. My other best friend, Scorpius Malfoy and his best friend (my mortal enemy, but we’ll get back to that) Albus Potter decided it was their job to ruin our sleepover, but seeing as we were having our sixth one, it’s safe to say they failed. We’ve started taking at hosting. Potter (see, I told you we’d be back to him) decided that it was time for him to play host. Dick.  























If you had the impression that this was your average teenage-girls-in-PJ's-watching-a-romantic-comedy, eating-ice-cream-playing-truth-or-dare-and-having-pillow-fights kind of sleepover then I’m sorry to say that you are correct. Well, you would be, if you included the boys, the occasional drink of alcohol, and the horror films.





We were sat in the den spread out across the floor and couches in a makeshift circle.  Rose, Dominique, Roxanne, Fred, James, Connor, Declan, Scorpius and that idiot Potter. The animosity is mutual, I assure you. Not once in the time that we had known each other had he shown anything resembling a redeeming quality. He was an arrogant, self-righteous, vain, egotistical bastard.But the most annoying thing about him was that he was gorgeous. I hated him, don’t get me wrong-but even I had to admit that he was gorgeous. I wasn’t one of his fan girls or anything, (yeah, he had fan girls) but he had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. They're so gorgeous they may as well not be real. What sucks is he knew he was good-looking. He used his looks to try and get girls. (And succeeded.) He uses and abuses them. (He's the reason why your fathers won’t let you date teenage boys.) I'm pretty sure, at this point, he’s dated (and I use that term very loosely) most of the girls in our year.





The rest of the Potters were okay. James was pretty cool, Lily and I didn’t really talk much; but then again, Lily didn't talk much in general. She was quietly scary. People tended to avoid her.





Whenever we had a sleepover, there were a few games we liked to play. Our sleepovers we’re PG-13; Well,as PG as a group of teenagers can get. So far, all we'd done was play some games and drink. Not a lot (obviously) as we had school tomorrow, and turning up hungover on the first day back wasn’t the best of ideas. We always ended with truth or dare, it took the longest to play, so playing it last meant we always had the time to finish it.





“Yo, Daisy snap out of it,” a voice called, pulling me away from my thoughts.





“Huh, what?” I said, looking up to find the source.





“Daisy, it’s James’ turn,” Connor said, running his hands through his sandy blonde hair. His was the only feature that distinguished him from his twin brother Declan. They had the same blue eyes, same jawline, even the same height. The hair though, that was different. Connor liked to keep his long and messy, right up to his jawline, and Declan liked his short and neat. .




“Oh, right.” I put my book down and began to pay attention to the game.




"James Potter, I dare you to wear your mum’s underwear," Declan said.





"Dude, no, that's wrong on so many levels!" James exclaimed.





"You have to do it," Declan said.





"It's so sad that you're that desperate to see my mother’s underwear. You're disgusting," James replied.





"Just because your mum is hot doesn’t change the fact you have to do it," Connor said. Declan and Connor fist-bumped.




“Ew!” Potter exclaimed, as if he’d just realised they were making his brother put on his mother's underwear.




James grudgingly got up and left the room. He had, most likely, disappeared into his mother’s room.





"And then there were eight," said Potter.





"Shut up, Potter," I said.





"No, you shut up," he said.





"Make me,” I replied.





"Why don’t you make me make you," he taunted.





"Oh wow Potter, you’re so witty," I said, "let's get on with this."




"Yeah okay, Hunter; it's your turn anyway," Potter said. “So?” he asked, “Will it be truth, or will it be dare?"





"Dare," I replied.





"Ok, Daisy," Dom said. "I dare you to take this bottle-" she picked up an empty bottle of butterbeer- “Spin it, and kiss whoever it lands on.”




"Dom-sweetie, there’s a reason we don’t play spin the bottle,” I said. “Most of the participants are related.”




“What happens if it lands on a girl?" Potter asked.





"Yeah, what if lands on Potter?" I asked.




"Did you just insinuate that I am a girl?" Potter asked





"Did I? Maybe it’s because you’re more feminine than me, Potter," I replied.





"I'm sorry, it's not my fault you're such a man," he spat.





"Can you guys just stop you before you get into an argument?" Dom asked.




“Dom, they’re already having an argument,” Connor said.




"Daisy, you have to kiss anybody it lands on." Dominique ignored him.




"You suck." I sighed. "Well, give me the bottle.”





Before I could even register what she was doing, Dom threw the bottle at me. I thrust my hands out in an attempt to catch it; but you know, there’s a reason I was a Beater and not a Chaser. Instead of landing in my hands, the bottle bounced out of my hands and landed on the floor in front of me. “Jeez, Dom. Aggressive much?”




“Yeah, yeah, whatever; just hurry up and spin the bottle,” she said.




I picked up the bottle and spun it. The bottle spun and spun. Minutes seemed to pass into hours, and hours seemed to pass into days, before it painfully slowed down. Eyes followed the bottle intently as it turned. They leaned forward, eager to see who would become victim to the bottle’s choice. I knew who they all hoped it would land on. I knew who they wanted it to land on, they’d been clear on the fact they think ‘we belong together’. I sometimes felt like shouting "Wake up people, we aren’t living in a Taylor Speedy fantasy world!” That wasn’t how things work.  So when the bottle finally stopped, having chosen its victim, everyone smiled; everyone except Potter and me, that is. His facial expression would be the offspring of panicked look and a grimace. Why did Merlin hate me? Why did it have to be him?





“You have to kiss Al, Daisy,” Dom prompted, as she grinned.





“I refuse,” I replied, “There’s no way in hell that I am kissing that pig, ever.”





“If you don’t then you’ll have to forfeit and you know what that means,” she pointed out. The room went silent. All I could hear was the sound of loud breaths.





The Hat was designed moments like this. The moment a person decided against committing a dare; they ‘forfeited’ and had to pick a dare from The Hat.  The Hat is exactly what it sounds like-a hat with bits of paper charmed inside it so they didn't fall out. The Hat was filled with painfully embarrassing acts that you had to do, reading a different thing on each slip of paper. Sometimes you ended up with a really easy forfeit, for example running up and down the Great Hall singing Taylor Speedy's latest song. (Connor had to do this in my third year.) Or it could be something like steal Filch's cat. (Fred last year).





You also had to accept any punishment that went along with the dare. I know what you’re thinking; can’t you just refuse the dare? Well, you could, but you’d be violating the sanctity of party games. It's an unspoken agreement between players: you’re honour-bound to do the dare. And what's a Gryffindor without their honour? The moral of it all was that we’ve all done some pretty crazy shit.





“I’m back,” cried a falsetto voice from the doorway. We all turned towards the door and there stood James-n all his glory, wearing his mother’s underwear on top of his jeans. He did it. I could not believe he actually did it. That son of a Ginny. (There's no disrespecting Ginny Potter).





“So what do you think?” he asked.




Fred stood up and began humming and clapping along to the stripper song. James started walking into the room strutting and sashaying his hips. Those boys are such dorks. But this isn’t enough-no, sir, no: Connor took some notes from his wallet and starts throwing them at James. Considering both his parents are wizards, I'm not sure where he got the muggle money from. "I’m making it rain," Connor cried out. Dork.











“Aaand we’re moving on, now that I'm scarred for life," Potter said. James sat down and Connor and Fred stopped their theatrics. They all turn back to look at me again. “It’s time for you to do your dare, Daisy,” Fred said.





Declan took The Hat from where it was sat at the side and pushed it towards me.

 

“Go ahead, Daisy,” he said smirking. So I did. I stuck my hand into The Hat and twirled it around for a while. I grabbed onto a piece of paper and pulled it out. I took my time opening it up (if I had to suffer so would they). I stared at the small white paper that would seal my fate. I opened it and froze. You have got to be kidding me. This is so stupid, these things always happen to me.




"Roxy’s choice,” I said aloud. I knew what she would say. Everyone knew what she would say. It was obvious. Roxy was a big romantic.




“Well, personally I would like you to kiss my cousin, in a closet, for seven minutes," she said.





This wasn’t going well.





“Which one?” I asked. "Rose? Because I would kiss Rose. Rose is a babe.” I said, playing dumb. Obviously, I knew exactly who she was talking about.





“Not Rosie, my male cousin,” she said.





“What, James? Well then, come on Jimmy. Let’s go to the closet,” I said, continuing the pretence; maybe she’d let me go with James, or anybody else, anybody but him.





“Oh for crying out loud, you have to spend seven minutes in a closet with my cousin Albus,” she cried.





“I loathe you Roxanne Weasley,” I said.




“I love you too; but that doesn't change a thing. You still have to go into that closet with Al."





"NO! NO! NEVER!" I shouted, “NOT WITH HIM, NEVER WITH HIM, I WILL NEVER EVER, EVER GO INTO THAT CLOSET WITH HIM!"




"That does wonders for my ego," Potter drawled.





"I'm not trying to inflate your ego you douche; I really don't want to kiss you," I said.





"Do you think I want to kiss you?" he shot back.





"Why wouldn't you? I’m awesome," I said, flicking my hair back. It was in a ponytail so I had to flick the tail backwards. Let me tell you this, it did not have the desired effect.





"And you say I have a big ego," he said.




"Look guys, I hate to interrupt this mini self-love fest you've got going on, but you have to do it because if you don't we get to unleash the Gods of Wrath," James said.




Everyone groaned.

















"That’s a stupid nickname, James, it isn't going to stick.” Rose said, deciding to join the conversation.

 

"Shut up, it will stick," he said.




In unison, everybody said, "No, it won't."




“JINX!" I shout. "You all owe me a galleon,”





"Ha ha, whatever Daisy," James said. "You and Al still have to go into that closet and make out."





“We don’t have to do anything,” I said.




“Actually, technically we do,” Potter said.




“Shut up, whose side are you even on?”














I look at Potter, and  then, grudgingly, got up. I tried to make a run for it.

 

"You'll never take me alive!" I said.





James's arm shot out and stopped me. He jumped up, grabbed me by the waist, and hauled me kicking and screaming to the cupboard. He threw me in there after Potter and shut the door.





"Was that what I think it was?" I asked once I’d righted myself.





"I don't know," he said, then he turned and twisted the doorknob. I wouldn’t open. Those bastards locked the door.





I stood next to him and tried to push the door open. It seemed that our friends thought it would be funny to lock us in the closet.





It wasn’t.





It wasn’t funny at all.





Potter stopped twisting and banging on the door. He walked to the back of the closet. It was quite a small closet (compared to other closets I've seen-not that I've seen many. Of course not.) I didn’t do the same.





"Let me out!" I shouted, "Let me out, and just let me go! I'll do anything else, anything! Please don't leave me in here!" I kept banging and banging, but nobody answered me. I heard a faint laugh coming from the other side of the door.





"They're not going to listen to you; stop being so dramatic," Potter said. "They want you in here for seven minutes, so we're going to stay here, alone, for seven minutes." Potter groaned. “God, this really isn’t my day,”





"They can hear us; I hear someone laughing, those bastards.”





"Look, I'm not happy about this either, but they aren't going to let us out till they think we've made out for seven minutes," Potter said.





I paused and thought about it. "You're right, I guess."




"Wait a sec," he said, "did you just say I'm right? Oh wow. We need to take a moment to savour this, let it sink into our memories."





"Shut up, Potter; I said 'I guess'," I said.





"Whatever," he said, then we lapsed into silence.





"You know," I said after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds, "we can't let this go unpunished."





"Yeah, I get you. We have to get them back, but not in the way they would expect."





"I agree, what do you mean ‘not in the way they would expect’?




“We could do is let them get a sense of security then prank them.” He said





I thought about ways in which we could prank them. I went over their conversation in my head, and then it hit me.











"I’ve got an idea: we become friends."





"What?!”  Potter exclaimed., “Me and you-friends? Well, okay.” He gave me a look like I was crazy. “Care to share whatever it is you’re smoking?”





"I mean they obviously want us to become friends, otherwise they wouldn't have put us in a closet together. So we pretend to 'make up' and become friends. It’s simple."





"Why would we want to do what they expect?" he said. He’s so stupid. Sometimes I wonder how this boy managed to put his trousers on the right way





"Nooo,” I explained, “we trick them into believing that we made up. Dom and Roxy will be happy; Rose and Scorp might be a little suspicious as they are our best friends. But we'll act really friendly and weird, thus resulting in them getting freaked out. They will have to think that they have won and then tomorrow on the train we’ll announce our need to plan a prank on some mutual friends of ours. We don’t mention names that way they start getting paranoid and start flinching every time we prank other people, which we will do loads of. We’ve got to make them beg for the prank. It will be slow torture and it will be exhilarating. We don’t even have to prank them. The anticipation will drive them crazy enough. MWAHAHAHAHA.”


 

You have to add an evil cackle at the end on an evil plan.





"I like the way you think, Hunter," Potter said, smirking.





"They don't call me a crazy bitch for no reason," I replied. “Well, you don’t call me a crazy bitch for no reason,” I amended, and then I took a bow. "Thank you Potter," I said. But seeing as it was a closet; there wasn’t much room for bowing so I ended up hitting Potter in the chest with my head.





"Watch yourself," he said, as he grabbed my bicep. “Aren't you even going to apologize?"





I winced.





"What?" he asked.





"My arm," I replied, "You’re hurting my arm."





"What? I'm not even gripping you hard." He took his hand off me and pulled up the sleeve.





He gasped when he saw the purplish-bluish bruise on my arm.





"What the hell happened to your arm? Because I sure as hell didn't do that," he said.





"I fell," I replied.





"You fell," he repeated after me, dryly.





"Yeah," I said, "I slipped in the bathroom."





"People don't get bruises like that from falling or slipping in the bathroom," he said.





"Apparently they do,” I shot back.





"I'm not stupid, who did-"


 

I silenced him. How did I manage that, you ask? I kissed him.





Yeah, I know, I kissed him.





I know what you're thinking. What kind of crazy person kisses their nemesis to shut them up? Me, apparently.





I never said I was a genius. Okay, maybe I have. But current evidence points to another conclusion.



















AN: hey, for anyone who's read this story before, I would like to say that I didn't like the direction that the first story was going. I've kept the plot but changed the story. Sorry.
 
For anyone that hasn't read this before, enjoy the story.


Please leave a review after the …


TheGirlonFire xx

P.S. i want to thank my new beta  forty_nine for being awesome at beta-ing

Edited : 17/12/2015


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