A/N: Please share guys, no ones reading or reviewing, only people I know ;( Enjoy peeps! EXTRA LONG CHAPPY xD
Whoop whoop! You wish to know why I am so amazingly whooping? WE HAVE ARRIVED AT HOGWARTS- cue magical music. I jumped out of the carriage the nine of us had so wonderfully squished ourselves in by sitting on laps and on the floor of it. I nearly fell out on the journey- and no one saved me! Until I had lost my grip and then finally Heather had the decency to pull me up. Though it took her, Black, Mark and Joise to actually haul me back onto the carriage. I never said I was feather light. Vicky says I’m a hippopotamus. Such kind words that girl spurts out. After gracefully floating out the carriages (well, more tumbling hard smacking onto the ground), we admired the view of the castle. The pure wonder and majestic manner of it never wore off, and it held such power. Like woah. You don’t wanna diss the castle. Trust me. Everything begins to go against you and next you know your bed chucks you down the stairs and you end up nearly dying when the stairs keep switching and you fall several floors and get your leg stuck in the trick step even though you weren’t even anywhere near it. So yeah- don’t diss Hogwarts.
I skipped to the doors with my hood up- I always left my hoodie beneath my robes.
“You know, that has to be the oddest sight I’ve ever seen,” muttered Mark.
“What?” I asked cheerfully- I was always cheerful when the castle was in sight.
“A chav skipping obviously,” answered Vicky, and I scowled. She didn’t even know what a chav was! Just because I liked hoodies, hated pink, acted like a dude, and wore slacks all the time. What was I talking about? Continuing… Hogwarts!
The huge double doors were wide open, the castle warmly greeting inside.
Or Neville opened them dumbarse.
Metaphorical. God Mickelo! You’re meant to be a Ravenclaw.
Seriously, we’ve been over this.
You are not Sirius. We’ve been over that. It’s not serious. It’s Sirius. Or was it meant to be the other way round?
You confuse me, and I am you.
Now you’ve confused me further.
Does that mean I’m supposed to be confused further?
No! You’re meant to get rid of confusion, Mickelo!
But I’m confused.
You can’t possibly be confused- you have to give me motivation! And sensibility!
Like a princess?
Don’t use that snarky tone and smirk with me! You know I despise anything like that! You know everything about me!
Yes I do. And I can’t smirk. I’m a voice.
Of course you are, but I can still tell, in your little voice world you’re smirking.
I don’t know how I live with you.
My brain is a comfortable and peaceful place.
…
Maybe not?
…
Okay, so it’s mental. But don’t be mad with me Mickelo?
Okay then. I forgive you.
Yay! Thanks Mickelo, buddy.
Can I go now? You need to go in the castle.
YAH! Bye Mickelo!
Bye, idiot.
Harsh, much.
…
Okay, so he’s gone. Back to reality…
Oh. Charlotte and Mark are arguing.
“Move!”
“Why?”
“Otherwise we’ll be sorted with the first years!”
“Talking who?”
“That made no sense!”
“YOU MAKE NO SENSE!”
“SHUT UP!” I screamed. So, yes I got their attention along with a couple of billion first years. I shot them a glare, and they hurriedly looked back towards the floor. “Move then BAMFs!” I shrieked, and they rolled their eyes while strutting over to the Gryffindor table. Yah. We strut like cool kids. More like both James Potters. But they were cool kids. I’m confused. Back to the topic at hand. Strutting towards the Gryffindor table. Oh the joys.
“Could you please take your seats quicker students,” sighed Professor Patil standing up at the teachers table. Oh, she was just a bundle of joy as Ravenclaw’s head of house. Note sarcasm here. We strutted (though slightly quicker) the remaining distance to the table. Then elegantly sat on our seats, posture perfect- meaning we plopped onto them and slouched. Then the sorting started.
I am hat.
Not a rat.
Nor a bat.
Nor a cat.
I think I know it all.
Even though I am small.
And whether short or tall.
The hat will never fall.
Off your head.
Nor go to bed.
It will sort you.
Instead.
That was how my sorting hat song would go. However, no, this hat has to sing some bullshit about every house being good in its own ways. As if. Gryffindor is the only decent house in Hogwarts- decent meaning it is supermegaawesomeamazingwoahing.
-----
After a bunch of names being called out and chanting whenever someone was sorted into the most wonderful house on Planet Hogwarts- Gryffindor if you are extremely dumb, and the awesome as school anthem, finally food! Mark, Olive, Joise, Vicky and I began stuffing our faces with the most delicious food, while Grace, Charlotte, Heather and Black looked on in disgust. What? Food is amazing. I don’t know why people would even want to do a diet- just play more Quidditch!
“Fub, globious… hmmm… foub, lubly band delibus, wheb be’re in da moooob,” I began singing, with food still inhabiting my mouth, spraying over the table in little bits. By the way, that’s a Muggle song from the musical Oliver! All about food, glorious food!
“Dinisha!” shrieked Olive, Dinisha being yet another nickname, as I sprayed a few crumbs on her lap. Oh dear. I ducked and hid under the table. “GET OUT FROM UNDER THERE!”
“Never!” I battle-cried, and crawled under the table through the feet of many, but I could hear Olive following me.
“CRAWL FOR YOUR LIFE DISHWATER, CRAWL!” I could hear Joise shouting from above the table, nearer the top. Cue James Bond music! Cue it! Now! WHY IS NOT CUEING! The table is nearly finishing. I could almost feel Olive’s victorious smirk on my back. But I would not give up hope.
Suddenly, I turned left and shot through a pair of legs, then leapt under the Hufflepuff table. I hurriedly scampered as fast as one could scamper on all fours and reached the end of the Hufflepuff table, jumping out the table and dumped myself onto a chair. Basically, we had this rule that meant if the person being chased reached their seat they could not be harmed after that. Olive scowled and slid herself out under the Hufflepuff table.
“In your face, douchebag!” I cheered, high fiving anybody in the near vicinity. Sometimes faces.
“15 points off Gryffindor for language, Miss. Singhania!” scolded Professor Patil, angrily. Yeesh, no need to get your granny pants in a twist. They probably were grey with polka dot spots on them. Well, no I’m mentally scarred after imaging her knickers. Oh dear.
“Sorry, Paddy,” I cringed, after that disturbing thought.
“5 points for disrespectfulness! You should be thankful I’m not giving you a detention because it’s the first day, but very soon I might have to give you one!” Then she stormed off. Thank god. Cue the Gryffindor table occupiers all turning to scowl at me.
“Hey! Chu know chu all still love meh,” I smiled, and they all rolled their eyes. In unison. Around 70 people. How scary.
“How many times do I have to say this? No one likes you, Dishwater, go away.” Do I even need to bother telling you who said that? I scowled at the offender, a.k.a. Vicky, then pouted and stabbed my fork in my food. I was about to whine like my 5 year old self when my hoodie’s hood was pulled down. Cue even more whining. I stomped my feet, eyebrows turning in like I was an angry child who’s lolly had just been stolen. My head whipped around to an amused looking Patrick Tusk. I scowled once more, folding my arms and he put it back on, patting my head for good measure.
“Paddy, mate, how be you?” I greeted, grinning after my hood had been replaced on top of my head.
“Good, thanks, glad to be back really, hippo,” he smiled. He was also very nice (except to me, which I find highly insulting), which is why he was a Hufflepuff. Usually, I is only amazingly awesome to Gryffindors, but this dude is that awesome that he would have been a BAMF if he wasn’t in another house. He was also Grace’s ex boyfriend. Let us just say she owled him to break up two days after they got together. Ouch, much. He was specifically Vicky’s and my mate so Vicky also greeted him cheerfully. She was insistent to include him in the BAMF crew but we did not really see him enough, and the others did not know him that well.
After he went, we all concentrated on our food. It was very Sirius business, especially when Chocolate Brownies and Cookie Dough Ice-Cream were for desert. Two words. Om Nom. At least I think that’s two words…
-----
It was tradition for the BAMFs to sleep together (not in a sick minded way all you perverted people like Heather) on every Sunday (which happened to be on the first night of school this year) in the Room of Requirement. It was done so religiously that the house elves always put a set of nightclothes and school robes for each of us in the room we always requested. It had one large square mattress covering the whole floor of the room; a large bathroom with 5 toilet cubicles, 5 sinks and, you guessed it, 5 showers; 9 squishy bean bags; lots of blankets and pillows and a huge floating table which the house elves so courteously filled with food.
Since sixth year, things had been slightly awkward. Now, yes we were all very close, and were not embarrassed of each other (I wear a penguin/tiger/zebra/pig/hippo suit to bed sometimes, the other times it’s just a hoodie and slacks), but as you may have noticed I’m not the most boy crazy, hormonal teenager. Whom am I kidding- I have not a bit of me that would like to snog the senses out of a guy, I will get married, as I don’t want to be a spinster, but right now, I’m perfectly fine with my mates. Simply said, you could not say the same for all my mates, and since 6th year when the guys went to bed topless usually and the girls wore tank tops and shorts moments could get quite uncomfortable. Luckily, I was always there to break any awkwardness. What would they do without me? However, we had slowly gotten better with that by the end of sixth year- we were brothers and sisters. BAMF brothers and sisters, but still brothers and sisters. And none of us did incest, not even Black, who did come from a family of cousin marriages. Ugh. No offense to Black- he turned out okay.
All nine of us finally reached the paintings of Barnaby the barmy failing at teaching trolls ballet. Dumbarse. I mean, come on. Trolls aren’t exactly the most graceful creatures in the magical world, let alone the smartest. They’re good for Troll Wrestling though. Once went to see a match- it was just awesome. Tried asking for them to do a match at Hogwarts, but nobody wanted one for some reason. Curious. We walked in a perfect line, passing the wall the 3 times thinking exactly of what we required- ‘the room we request on Saturdays’ worked now, as it had been so often. A ratty old man sized cat flap appeared and we all grinned. Let us just say we used the Room of Requirement so much for so long it got tired of making a beautiful door for us since we did not particularly ask for a majestic, large pair of polished oak doors. We all got down onto all fours and dived amazingly into the room.
-----
After we all had changed and sat down on the mattress in a circle I spoke.
“Do you know whether orchestra’s on tomorrow?”
“Think so, composing is still on Wednesdays,” replied Vicky not paying much attention. One thing that linked us all was music. That’s actually how we all met- at orchestra. Now your probably thinking Orchestra? Composing? Geeks. But really we do wicked music. Sometimes we get to play Wrock (wizard rock) music, other times ridiculously hard ones for Halloween. We were eight violins and one viola. THE VIOLA IS NOT A VIOLIN. Understood? It has got different strings, is slightly larger, requires more pressure on the bow and is much better. You can probably guess that it’s me who is the unique one. We also played other instruments, but all of us played at least one string one.
Composing was specifically close to me in the magical world. In the Muggle world, it required tedious handwritten work or computer software, and if you could not connect it to a keyboard, it could get exceptionally tiring. If you had a tune in your head you would have to figure out the notes, and that could take a very long time. Whereas in the magical world you had a large square sheet of sorts, that was not an object nor existed- it was like enchanted air. You could tap that once, then your instrument and play exactly you wanted to write and the notes would float from the instrument to the screen in that exact rhythm. Or, if you wished to sing or hum it you would simply tap your throat instead of an instrument- it was truly magical. The only one thing I didn’t enjoy about music was… I’ll tell you later if the need comes. I hope he’s gone missing. Then I will never have to mention him and my life will be all happy and normal. HA. What a joke. My life? Normal? But it would be happy. He and his group have a kind of nemesis against our group, because of me specifically, so I’m mostly to blame apparently! Damn. I am. Anyways, most people have put aside their Slytherin enmity by now, especially when Albus Potter II went into Slytherin, and most of them weren’t evil. Well no one really was. Sadly, this meant people were living perfectly content beside Slytherins. Even Gryffindors! How horrid.
“So, what now?”
“FOOD FIGHT!”
-----
After everyone had cleaned themselves up, and we did many more hysterical things, everyone had fell asleep. This is when I snuck out. Don’t get me wrong, I love my BAMF mates, but this was a sole secret tradition for me to do every Saturday. A new enchantment meant that the Room of Requirement could produce another room for a different purpose or different people while the other previous room co-existed. I stepped out the room and walked in front of the wall 3 times thinking of exactly what I requested each time. “A music studio with a composing section, a viola with a selection of wicked viola music, a large grand piano with rocking piano pieces, a mike and a recording booth.” It was specific, but this meant no one could interrupt me, as no one else would want this. I only knew one other viola player in the school, him, and he did not play the piano, sing or care about music because he thinks he’s too cool so I didn’t have to worry.
I sat down beside the piano and laid my fingers across the ivory keys, then smiled. I began playing the tune to some muggle songs.
I rapped but was interrupted by the quick opening and slamming shut of a door. I whipped my face around and was met by a face that I so wholly despised.
“Flint,” I growled. His face changed from relief to disgust. Well, he should get out then, the dickhead!
“Singhania,” he smirked, now realising he had interrupted me. Dumbarse. “Did I interrupt a little play time?”
“Shut up you git. Why are you even here?” For the first time, he actually looked slightly embarrassed. “Wait, don’t tell me. You come here- you play the piano, you sing, you compose and you record! You… you care about music!” I was truly gobsmacked. I could detect a faint blush from where I was sitting and I grinned but his face contorted into anger.
“Tell a soul, and your dead Singhania,” he muttered furiously, before turning around about to leave when I did something I was sure to regret.
“Wait!” I hollered, and he actually stopped. He turned around, his face still with hints of anger and embarrassment. What was I supposed to do? Do what I do best in some cases. Brawl.
I simply started beating up every inch of him, and once he got over the shock he started doing the same to me. Oh dear, well this was stupid. Yes I was in pain, and he was probably in triple, but it still was better than having to say “It’s fine go away,” and face utter humiliation. This was bad. Usually there was someone to stop us, and both of us were too stubborn to stop. I threw a hard fist at his gut hoping he would fall so it would finish but he got me at the same time so we both fell to the ground, clutching our stomachs.
“What… what did ya do that for?” panted Flint, and even though tired, anger was blazing in his usually glinting hazel eyes.
“Um… I was annoyed.”
“At what?”
“At you.”
“For what?!”
“For interrupting me.”
“So you start a fight?”
“Yes.”
“Real mature.”
“Mickelo told me to!” I quickly defended.
WOAH. Don’t bring me into this.
“Did he now?” Is it wrong that my ultra enemy knows about a voice inside my head? Anyone who spends a lot of time with me gets to know Mickelo.
“Yes!” I hurriedly replied.
What did I say about bringing me into this?
Sorry! It is a necessary action when dealing with the enemy.
Sure it is. Just don’t tarnish my name too much. Bye.
Bye Mickey, wish me luck.
…
Fine don’t.
Something highly absurd brought me out of my ‘Mickelo trance’. It was a laugh. A laugh I had never heard before. It was breathy, but behind that completely free and fluid. There was no one else in the room apart from… Him? I quickly adjusted my eyes to the sight. Flint lying on the floor, black shaggy hair (like Sirius’ and James Sirius’) sprawled on the floor, pain evident on his face, but he was laughing? He looked amused. The boy, who never smiled, only smirked, frowned or had a poker face, was laughing. And I couldn’t help it. The laugh was contagious, so soon we were both literally ROFL, except making that ROFLABIP (Rolling On the Floor Laughing Also Because In Pain).
Once we had slowly reduced our gales of laughter into small chuckles I spoke.
“So, your group know you’re here?”
“Do yours?” I shook my head. “Same. They’d make mockery of me for days- at least yours wouldn’t.”
“They might do the same. Well not all of them- some of them might though. Think I’m too into music.”
“Yeah, I guess. How are we going to get to the Hospital Wing this time? We can’t stay here.”
“Hmm… We could play I spy?” I suggested. He cocked an eyebrow at me, smiling amusedly. It was truly was a heck of a smile. Damn. It made you want to smile as well.
“I Spy? With my little eye?”
“Yah! Just say the letter.” He grinned and we began playing the oh so awesome game of I Spy.
-----
Soon we grew bored of that, and began telling each other hilarious stories of our times at Hogwarts.
“So, Sir-“
“Who’s Sir?” I asked curiously. We didn’t usually call our professors that now.
“Oh,” he muttered as if he had said something wrong, “My father.”
“Why do you call him Sir?” I asked, shocked.
“He… he likes it,” Flint muttered, looking adamant to change the topic.
“Yeah, so your dad…”
“M… my d… dad, he once was so angry with a house elf he tried to suffocate it with his coat… But he made him free by giving… giving the coat in a way so the elf… elf disapparated away… I laughed… But…” He choked up on his words, so I am guessing whatever he was going to say was not pleasant. Wait! House elves! Why didn’t I think of that before?
“DOBINA!” I shouted, startling a deep in thought Flint. Almost immediately, an odd, wrinkled, yet still glowing creature wearing an odd composition of mismatched socks, a short red and white polka dot short skirt as a dress and two cut bits of black glove fingers covering her ears making her resemble the Muggle mouse Disney character Minnie. She had been named after the late Dobby, for her love of clothes, socks, independence and exceptional bravery. A huge smile inhabited her face, knowing she was going to get a task.
“What can I do for you tonight Dishwater?” Flint snorted, probably surprised that even house elves used that nickname for me.
“Well, I’ve got three jobs for you.” Dobina looked like she was going to explode from excitement. “Firstly, I need you to apparate me and him to the Hospital Wing carefully because our internal organs are dying.” Dobina understood noticing the multiple bruises on our arms. “Oi, Flint, d’ya want a note to be left for your friends telling them you’re in the Hospital Wing?” He shrugged and nodded. “Alright, Dob, then me needs ya to leave a not for my mates who are in the room we are in on Saturdays, saying ‘Dishwater/DJ/James/Dinisha be in the Hospital Wing’ and for his mates- Polkiss, Karkoroff and Tenant- leave a note saying ‘Flint is in the Hospital Wing’. Okay?” Dobina eagerly nodded, she was awesome. “Lastly, bring some snacks from the room which the BAMFs be in to the Hospital Wing. I be hungry.” Flint shook his head but grinned.
“Is that all?” she squeaked, tiny toes wiggling inside the socks. I nodded, and she immediately set to work grabbing our hands and apparating us to the Hospital Wing. Let me tell you, it was incredibly painful to be squeezed with another person and a house elf, especially after having your internal organs damaged. It seemed like eternity before we finally arrived at the bright white room that held sick and bruised patients. Dobina gave a quick wave before disapparating out of the room with a loud and sharp crack. Miss Lynch, was a young, talented witch, who had only graduated from Hogwarts the year previously, interning in the Hospital Wing, hoping to take over soon as Madame Pomfrey was to retire in a few years. She apparently had the brains that she need not go through the Healer course, and instead come straight here and learn from Madame Pomfrey as she had learnt a lot throughout her schooling in free time with the Matron. She had blonde locks that cascaded down her shoulders, sparkling blue eyes, was bouncy and cheerful, likeable and was perfect pretty much. I particularly liked her for the fact she hadn’t dated Flint like every other girl in the school (Grace wasn’t a bimbo at all, and even she had dated Flint for a short period of time to my much annoyance), as she obviously had the brains to understand he was a git, player and all together good for nothing idiot. But he was alright in the last few hours- maybe he’ll be a bit better? I mean, if he was, I could try- but listen, I’m not promising anything here. Wait, what am I saying? This is Flint. Git. Player. Annoyance. Arrogant (remember, only a Gryffindors job). Slytherin. Annoying as. While I was saying this, Miss Lynch had come over and began talking to Flint, who was attempting to ‘work his charm’ on her. I stifled a snort, and butted in to their conversation as Flint was going off topic.
“Jem, we fought, broke some bones and we think some internal organs might be damaged,” I muttered, trying to stop my broken nose from bleeding as it had began flowing because of the apparating.
“Well, for now I’ll try and help you and I’ll only wake up Madame Pomfrey if needed.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing Jem, I mean if brain equals beauty,” he muttered, giving a subtle wink towards her that my wonderful hawk eyes spotted.
You wear glasses.
Go away Mickelo.
Fine! If I’m not welcome…
Sorry! Come back! I need you!
…
You shouldn’t make Mickelo mad. Wait- did I spot a… a blush? It was faint, but it was a blush on Miss. Lynch. The perfect girl who I thought had some brains. Couldn’t you stop a blush? What was a blush? I had never experienced one myself. How peculiar. I’ve never been embarrassed of anything, embrace humiliation! What other reason could it be? Maybe if you’ve been excessively complimented- too cheesy, makes me wanna belch.
“Anyways, I’ll show to your beds, follow me,” she smiled, moving forward. Because Flint was very tall (unlike me I’d like to point out angrily) it looked like he was older then Miss Lynch and that freaked me out quite a bit. He leaned down slightly and whispered something into her ear. She giggled. WOAH. Stop. HAMMERTIME. Jokes, me needs to first contemplate (big word!) situation. Where has the awesome girl from last year gone? Did she lose all her brains after graduating? Obviously not, as she was now skillfully twirling her wand over both of us and I could feel extreme pain, then slight peace in some areas. At least I felt like I could walk or move, instead of being completely incapacitated (yet another terribly large word!) Not paying the slightest of attention, and only felt my mouth being opened and warm, hot syrup like liquid being poured down my throat. Soon, sleep overcame me, and I was surprised it was not filled with absurd dreams like usual…
-----
Mmmmm… I taste Bertie Botts… And hear low growls of the Gryffindor lion… And see Godric Gryffindor riding on it with the sword… And feel sweet mushy candyfloss… And smell… turd. Well, at least it’s not human turd, it’s dog turd.
Instead of fantasizing about turd, get up.
Me? Fantasizing? Never! This is obviously real. I mean my Gryffindor world with Bertie Botts, candyfloss and dogs! Well at least dog poop.
Shut up and get up.
I am up, Mick bick!
No you’re not. And Mick Bick?
So, me is still asleep, Mickey Wickey?
YES. And really? Mickey Wickey?
Woah. How do I get up?
By opening your eyelids.
Oh. Yeah. So finally, I got them open.
“AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I screamed. I’m a witness to HWPDA (a.k.a. Hospital Wing Public Displays of Affections)! GET ME OUT OF HERE!
Right on his bed, he and the previously thought to be smart and awesome Lynch were snogging. A lot. In many awkward positions. Thank god they had clothes on otherwise I may have died. Then came back as a ghost, and killed my ghost self however one can kill a ghost. Though if that was possible, I doubt Binns would be still teaching right now. And she was… moaning. And he was… growling. He was making the sounds I thought were a Gryffindor lion. Well, that was obviously a bit off. And disturbing. I am mentally scarred- no, worse than that, whatever is worse than that. I have walked in on Black with Lucie and many other pairings and my frequent escapes to the Boys Dorms from the girly things that go on in the Girls Dorms, but none are as bad as this. It was Flint.
Both sprung apart and Lynch ran over to me, flattening her messed up hair and trying to return her tomato red lips to normal then wearing her jacket from the floor. Flint simply covered himself with his blanket, stuffing his face into the pillow. Good, didn’t want to see that vomit-worthy, git-like face anyway. I soon realised why Lynch had tried to look professional, because Madame Pomfrey entered the section, herself quite slow at her old age.
“What’s going on? Who got a banshee in here?” muttered Pomfrey, looking quite disgruntled at my beautiful screech. Was she saying I sounded like a banshee? Harsh much, Pompie.
“I just came to check up on them, and I think Miss. Singhania was startled by me. Don’t worry, everything is perfect- you can trust me,” answered Lynch, with an innocent tone, that Pomfrey smiled and left. Cunning little witch. Little in everything apart from height, looks, brain… What was I talking about? Oh well.
She quickly muttered ‘Muffliato’ using her wand and glared fiercely at me. I’m melting from the ferocity. Pahahahaha- I love sarcasm.
“Why are you such an idiot?” she snarled. I gaped at her.
“You were the one showing HWPDA!” I exclaimed furious. She was turning this on me? Flint peaked out from his hideout.
“What’s HWPDA?” he asked, eyebrows creased in confused. Why that fucking bastard, And that’s exactly what I’d tell him.
“Why you fucking bastard get your face back inside those sheets,” I growled fiercely. He looked scared. Good- he should be. I was the all holy. I should have my own religion.
Dishism.
YES MICKELO. Amazing name! I knew you would be useful someday.
I’m useful every day.
Fine, fine. Let me see what the Flint git and Lynch are up to. Hopefully not snogging again.
“You have to be joking me,” muttered Lynch, flicking her hair and humpfing at my apparent immatureness. I heard a laugh from the covers.
“What are you laughing about fugly hiding under bedsheets?” I spat, my voice filled with malice. He fully came out of his hiding place, and had his familiar smirk on his face. What a shitty smirk. Yes, I just called a smirk that was obviously not shitty, shitty. Cut me some slack. I despise this guy.
“It’s… just… are… you… serious?” he spluttered between laughs. I was glaring at him, at Lynch was staring oddly at him. Serves him right. He was odd. Though I was odder. But in a much better way. I was just awesome.
“NO! I am notSirius. I. Am. Singhania. Or Dishwater. Or Hippo. Or DJ. Why does everybody ask this? Am I that unknown?” I found it quite rude how he carried on in gales of laughter. I was known!
“Serious… Sirius!” he laughed. Well, yes. That is a funny pun. Oh! Did he mean serious?
“And yes I was S-E-R-I-O-U-S!”
“You are… such… an idiot!” he snorted. How dare he? I jumped out of my own and pounced onto him. I think we have already been over the fact I am not the lightest of people.
“GET OFF ME!” he shrieked, and Lynch attempted to pull me off him but I didn’t even feel any tug. She must have thought it was too dangerous to stand within the range of my thrashing legs.
“NO!” I replied, pounding him to pulp. Well, hoping I would pound him to mank Flint pulp. What a disgusting fruit he would be- like asparagus. Even though that’s a vegetable. He simply smirked.
“If you wanted to jump me you could have just asked,” he said, and I stopped thrashing at gaped at the revolting bloody beast in front of me. I punched him twice more, hard, in the gut.
“Really?” I asked, jumping back onto my bed.
“Yeah, he should’ve known you wouldn’t want to jump a man,” Lynch smirked.
“Why?” I was sick of asking questions. I answered them, being the all holy and stuff.
“You’re so much like one yourself,” she laughed. Alone, though. She thought that was an insult to me? Oh she didn’t know me at all… Even Flint was shaking his head, in his damaged state.
“You do know that’s not an insult to her,” he muttered, still in pain.
“Do you want me to heal you or not?” snapped Lynch to Flint, Flint startled and me shocked. He just said one thing. Sheesh, moody bitch…
“No, he doesn’t obviously, because he’s not in a hospital wing grasping his stomach in pain-“
“Which you inflicted,” Flint added. I glared at him, and he put his hands up in surrender. Why was I defending him again?
“As I was saying, his stomach in pain and you’re definitely not an assistant Matron.” Too long sarcastic sentence, didn’t work as well. It still worked though cause she stomped over and ripped his shirt off, examining his ‘oh my god, look at that’ according to the girls of the school 6-pack. Yes, I was a tomboy but I still noticed these things. Only it didn’t much affect on me, and especially not on him. He and his abs could go shred themselves in a paper shredder that’s charmed to make the shredding extra painful. Yes, shredding beats castration anyday.
While she was taking her time healing him, I heard unmistakable voices.
“You sure she’s in this wing?” came the unsure voice of James.
“Yes, dumbarse- you know this bed is practically reserved for her and Flint when they get into frequent brawls,” muttered Heather.
“Why are we here?” asked Vicky. Love you too.
“Because, we know this Dish and have to make sure she’s still ill so she doesn’t come out of the Wing anytime soon,” explained Olive. How sweet are my friends?
“Oh, stop being mean, even if it is true,” laughed Grace. True? They’re just jealous of me.
“Just fucking go in the wing,” snapped Charlotte. What’s got her in a mood? And where was Nick?
“Okay, okay, going Miss. Cranky,” replied Joise, who was the first face I saw, followed by five others.
“HAI GUYS!” I shrieked, jumping up and pouncing on them in a group hug.
“Get off me,” they all snarled in unison. Awww, they missed me.
“Why? I’m pretty comfy,” I replied, adjusting myself so my foot went in someone’s mouth, face in gut and hand on eyes. I was planning to stay before I heard Lynch shout at us. Stupid wench. Well not exactly, but she was damn close. She actually wasn’t, but I can use my amazing imagination.
“Hi Gem,” greeted the BAMFs, excluding Nick (where was he?) and I obviously. I smacked them once on the arm each because I was being nice.
“The greeting is ‘Hi Bitchy Whore’ guys,” I snarled. I could see Flint stifling a snort, Lynch- who simply strutted hips swinging over to Flint and the BAMFs who were staring at me shocked. I didn’t usually use the words ‘bitch’ and ‘whore’ that often, more ‘fuck’, ‘bastard’, ‘shit’ and ‘damn’ when it came to profanities. “I woke to her and him shagging.”
“We weren’t damn shagging, and even if we were its not that ridiculous!” exclaimed Flint, chucking his covers aside, Lynch jumping startled to the side. “We were snogging. You know, like ordinaryteenagers. Just because you are a bloody abnormal freak, does not mean we all are! That’s what makes you abnormal.” The BAMFs glared at him.
“Look Flint, she takes pride in being a ‘bloody freak’, and she’s a fucking awesome person, okay?” snapped Vicky, fists clenched at her side.
“She’s weird, but she’s one of the coolest people you will ever see, let alone know, in your whole lifetime!” chanted Olive. Awww, the two attitude filled bitches of our group were getting all defensive for me. The rest were about to talk, but Flint spoke first.
“Oh, perfect. The whole of the bad ass mother fuckers are here! To defend the shittiest of them all, they’ve all brought their damn shitty presence to invade on two cleanly souls!” I growled.
“A) We are not American, even though I sometimes have an American accent, I always remember my pronunciation. Arse. B) Insult me but don’t say a word about my mates.” I was an inch from his face, and even though I was a midget I was intimidating. With my fist. Cue evil laugh. Anyways we were both scowling, when his mouth formed into a smirk.
“Well I believe me and Gem have some things to continue, which should be done privately.” AGHHHHH!!! NO! JUST, NO! I felt like screaming that and running away so that is exactly what I did. That meant I ran screaming all the way until I got into one of the random secret passages. This also meant by the time I reached there my stomach was dead, I nearly could not breathe, and I was gasping for breath. My mates were always there for me, but they would have no clue where I was now, and I’m sure they just thought I was having a laugh. Oh dear, it was dark as well, so no one could see me. Where was my wand? I had left it in the Hospital Wing! Damn. I couldn’t breathe. Seriously. Notice the lack of pun.
Suddenly someone ran in and I heard heavy breaths.
“You… you… shouldn’t run… You’re… not healed… Quick, sip this…” he panted, and I immediately knew who he was.
“Why… do you… fucking care?” I retorted, still panting. It was like a pant-off. Wait- that sounded wrong even in my head.
“I… don’t bloody… know… okay? Just… drink… the potion…” I reached it for and soon felt warmth along with a freezing cold vial, before he snatched his hand away. God, sorry! I don’t have cooties you know! I quickly gulped down the potion, but instead of freezing my throat like I expected, I felt a warmth emitting liquid flowing down me to my restless stomach and calmed it. Sweet please.
“T-thanks,” I muttered. I didn’t like thanking gits, even if they did do the right thing. But he snorted.
“I only did this cause Gem would’ve lost her internship if you were really bad. Do you think I’d really care if you stayed in St. Mungo’s for the rest of your life?”
“My mates could have found me thank you very much. I didn’t need a damn piece of you to follow me here.” Of course they would’ve found me eventually!
Eventually being the key word. Maybe it would be too late then.
“Fine next time I won’t bother, but ask them to clear up any evidence of you to save Gem from trouble if you die.”
“Gladly but I think you’ll find I’m stronger than that. I’m not a weakling to die because I’m slightly out of breath.”
“Please, you have the stamina of a rhino! How you became Quidditch Captain I don’t know…”
“How you became Quidditch Captain being such an arse I’ll never know, Flint!”
“Because I have talent. Something you lack.”
“I have a life. Something you lack.”
“That made no sense! Of course I have a life!”
“If you do, it’s a waste, because you’ll obviously do nothing with it!”
“Do you think she might have came in here? Some resin powder is on the floor, and remember she had putted her smashed resin remains in her trouser pocket,” came the voice of Heather, quite smartly. I forgot about my resin! Poor, poor resin…
“You were the one who smashed it!” I whisper shouted to Flint, not wanting to be heard by them knowing I was still arguing with me. I’d get a lecture from Grace.
“Not my fault you left it on the floor!”
“I had to clean all that powder up you know!”
“Not my fault our conductors a git!”
“So you agree?”
“Course I do! He has no musical talent or brain!”
“And it should be student led!”
“Exactly!” We were still shouting in whispers.
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t know, just get out of here before my mates came.” I knew he was smirking, even though I couldn’t see, and it made me want to punch his firm jaw line into mush.
“Oh, yes, wouldn’t want your friends to see you talking to the likes of me.” I was about to retort but I heard fast footsteps leaving me, and slower ones coming towards me.
“Dishwater? Ya here?” muttered Joise, and I sighed gratefully. Now, I could FINALLY go.
“Yeah! I’m just coming,” I hurriedly replied, walking out, some more powdered resin slipping out of my pocket.
Classes tomorrow! YAYY! By the way, that was incredibly sarcastic. Well at least there was music tomorrow! I’m doing music for NEWTs, we basically self learn and help each other since our teacher is our conductor, who is a lazy git and doesn’t know the slightest bit of music. A lot of it is based on composing, playing and listening, and the class is me, the rest of the BAMFs and… Flint. Why does he always interfere in everything?
A/N: What did ya think peeps? I love where this is going :D Please promote this! It sounds stupid but its pretty cool ;) PLEEEEAAASSSEEE xD Review also, because you lot are as cool as Rainbow Monkeys? Thankyou J
Write a Review Who threw that Quaffle?: Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty, Hogwarts! Oh, and Flint.
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