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Seven by loopyluna

Format: Novella
Chapters: 13
Word Count: 59,030

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Humor, Romance, Young Adult
Characters: McGonagall, James (II), OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Other Pairing, James/OC, OC/OC

First Published: 09/19/2010
Last Chapter: 03/12/2011
Last Updated: 03/12/2011

Banner by Marit @ tda // Freddy/Oc
Warning: Narrated by a narrow minded and cynical insomniac. 

Dixie doesn't care that Freddy has similar body mass to a bear, or the fact that her breath catches in her throat at the mere sight of him. She is going to detach him from his latest bird even if she has to use the scissors. 

Chapter 6: It’s apparently not rational to call a truce with an opposing Quidditch Team member on the day of a match. Not rational at all.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading so far, I hope you’re still enjoying it, and that you like the rest. Just a quick note to say that ‘wishaway.’, previously ‘Marit’ on tda made me two chapters images for this chapter, and oh dear lordy was it hard to choose – so appreciate it dearest readers :P :D
And also, I own nothing. It all goes to JK Rowling. 

Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
James Potter

McGonagall was furious. James and the boys had pulled a prank, one involving a small child and a Slytherin bathrobe. I didn’t want to know anything else; that was the end of it for me. I had walked away from that part of my life with a slight hint of irrational fear.


I was thankful that, at least for the day, her rage wasn’t aimed towards me. The recipients of her anger however, seemed indifferent. I thought that their detentions would be joined with mine. But I was wrong.


“Hello, Dixie-Pixie,” Avery smirked at me.


I dropped my scrubbing brush. “You don’t get to call me that.” I said through gritted teeth.


“From what I’ve heard,” he taunted. “Neither does anybody else. Especially not little Freddy.”


“Not even ten seconds in and you’ve already made a ‘Freddy joke’. How quaint.” He grinned cheekily. I picked up the other scrubbing brush and pushed it in to his chest. “Your sources are wrong.” Your sources are spot on, actually.


He lightly chuckled and stared me in the eye. “You know as well as I do, that’s a lie.”


I sighed. “Think what you like.”


“In that case…” he said smutty. “Inserting boorish thoughts … now.”


My brush was hurdled towards him in a sudden flush of frustration, narrowly missing his shoulder. I didn’t seem able to control it. If I wasn’t the only other in the room, I wouldn’t have thought it was I who had done it.


He snorted. “Is that the best that you’ve got?”


“Wait until your back is turned.” I threatened. “That’s when you want to watch your mouth.”


“Seriously?” He looked amused. “You want me to be afraid of you, the little, harmless, pixie?”


Christopher Avery is easily one of the best known womanizers in the school, but I knew better. He may be able to dodge my hexes and literal objects cast and thrown his way with unnatural ease, he may have the overlooked talent of brushing off my wit like it was a fallen leaf, but he wasn’t as hard as stone. No matter how much he would like to believe it, he wasn’t. 


I blinked. “As I said, think what you like.”


“Trust me, pixie.” He grumbled darkly. “I am.”


I scoffed in disgust and resumed to scrub my cauldron. “Is that all you think about, Avery?”


“Pretty much, love.”


Smacking down the scrubber in to the bottom of my cauldron I turned to the devilishly good-looking man-whore stood beside me. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and sent him a glare that could destroy the souls of little children. “My name is Dixie, not ‘love’, not ‘sexy’ and most definitely not ‘pixie’.”


He gently pinched the top of my index finger, which was pointed at him in an interrogative manner, and put it back down to my side. “I’m sorry.”


“Yeah that’s more like i – wait,” I said solely. “You’re sorry?”


Avery nodded and blew a stray hair from his eyes. “Yes. Why is that so unexpected?”


It was out last night of detention together, his sentence was finished tonight. I would have another four days before I had served my time. It seemed odd to me, and some what disturbing, that I would miss not having Avery there. While he stood by my side, I could at least compete in a competitive conversation with the sod.


However the feeling that bugged me most was the nagging one in my stomach that took his apology by total surprise. I had, not once, taken him for the one to be so upfront with them. I expected him to be more like me. I don’t think that I have properly apologized in years. Not meaning it, anyway.


“I guess, I just thought that you hated me.”


He winked. “Ahh, I could never hate you. I actually kind of admire you, especially your connection with the stars.” He said quietly. “But this doesn’t mean I like you, Pruitt. Your presence alone makes me want to set myself on fire.” I blinked, if this was supposed to be the second part to his heartfelt apology, he was failing miserably. “But I don’t think that I could ever hate you.”


“Get rid of your smut and you’re not so bad either.” I mumbled, attacking a crusty corner of the cauldron.


Avery snorted indignantly. “Thanks. You sure know how to make a person feel special.”


“I don’t need to make you feel special,” I said cutely. I leant to my left and ruffled his hair slightly. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “You already are.”


His eyes narrowed and he obviously bit back his insult. It was on the tip of his tongue. My eyes dared him to say it, but my frown pushed it further back.


“You infuriate me.” He spat.


“The simple smell of your aftershave makes me want to puke.”


He scoffed. “The smell of me? You walk around smelling like Weasley ever second of the day.” I veered an eye roll. “You make me sick.”


“You’re reputation proceeds you.”




I pulled me hair back in to a bun, twisting it and fastening it angrily with a hair band. I huffed and leant forward, leaning from a distance on the rim of the now-clean-cauldron. I could hear his angry scrubbing, the grunts and cusses that exited his lips. His prominent cheekbones made him what he was, I could see that. It was all the gossip in the girls’ bathroom. He loosened his tie and returned to scrubbing. As he pushed harder on to the brush, the bristles made a louder meshing noise. It took me no longer than a moment to drop my wooden scrubber on to the worktop, letting it fall from my grip, sending Avery a glance and laughing.


He seemed thoroughly confused. “What is so funny?” He asked.


I wiped a tear from my eye and then on to my trousers. “If that was our try at being partially civil to one another, it was shit.”


“Not too shabby for a first attempt.” He corrected, subtly laughing himself. The frustration and anger seemed to fall from his face as his chuckle turned in to a laugh.


I blinked and took off my jumper, revealing my oxford shirt; it was too hot to work with the cotton on top. Avery laughed. I frowned. “What?”


“I’m just thinking about the amount of lads that would kill to be in my position, at this moment.”


My brows furrowed. “Scrubbing a cauldron?”


“Watching you take off your clothes.”


I growled at his husky tone and whipped him with my v-neck before putting it on to the work top behind me. “So what do you say?” I asked, reaching out my hand to his. “Truce?”


He raised a brow and didn’t move his folded arms. “I can safely say that I had never expected this to happen … ever.”


“Are you going to take it or not?” I asked threateningly. “If not that scrubbing brush is going well in to you ar-“


He took it.


I silence myself instantly and replaced my frown with a triumphant smile.


Avery nodded, blowing a stray hair from his eye line. He would introduce himself. “Christopher Thomas Avery.”


“Dixie William Pruitt.” I said apprehensively and with a little despair.


He pulled away and tried to disguise a snort with a cough.


He failed.




Christopher whimpered a little from holding in the laughter, I gestured to him and he gave way, letting it all out. “I’m sorry, Dixie. I really am, but William? Isn’t that a boy’s name?” I nodded and he laughed harder.


“You know if this is the way that you’re going to act…”


“No, Dixie. I’m sorry.” I pulled my hand back from his grasp that he had retaken and scowled. “I just mean, I’m beginning to see why you’re so touchy about pet names and such, especially when they come from people like me.”


I shook my head. “That’s not the reason.” I admitted quietly. “I am the only girl in a family of boys, they hadn’t expected to have one, and so they threw in the name that I was supposed to be called. Dixie was the name of my brothers’ toy pony, it was the first thing they saw, and it became my name.”

He carried on the conversation without looking back up from his cauldron. “So what’s the reason for the touchiness?”


“What do you mean?”


“I call you pixie and you freak,” he said, still no eye contact. “It’s the same reaction with, love or sexy or even if I call you Pru-ie.”


I folded my arms over my chest. “That’s because my name is Dixie.”


“But you have no trouble with letting your roommates call you pet names.”


“That’s because they’re my best friends!”


He just chuckled. “That’s not it; I heard a third year call you ‘Dix’ last week. Surely that’s worse that ‘love’.”


“Are you stalking me?”




My mouth formed a small ‘O’. “Well now that’s settled.” I picked back up my brush and began on the next cauldron; surely Professor Slughorn notices that we are now cleaning the already-clean ones. I wondered what the lads were doing in their detention at this moment. Avery looked expectant, he was making eye contact again, I noticed. I knew what he wanted. He was making an effort; I decided that I would too. He could be an asset. “My brother, Josiah used to call me ‘Dixie-Pixie when I was a little girl, he used to say that I was ‘as cute as a button’ or something like that” I explained, barely above a whisper. “We don’t talk any more.”


“And so you lost your ‘cute as a button’ status and turned in to a dragon lady?” he asked calmly.


“Pretty much.” I deadpanned with a nod.


He smirked at me. “That’s the reason?”


“Yes,” I snapped. “What was that tone for?”


“The tone was for nothing,” he shrugged. “I just think that it’s a pretty bad reason.”


I dropped my brush in to my squeaky clean cauldron once more. “Excuse me?”


“I just mean that there are better reasons to stop something.” He said judgingly. “Just because you aren’t as close doesn’t mean that you have to loose who you are.”


I knew that by the end of this detention I was going to be driven to major physical assault. I couldn’t wait. “I don’t think that we have known each other long enough for you to have your input on that.”


“Ok, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”


I blinked. “You seem to be apologizing a lot today.”


“Ok, I’ll stop then.”


I smirked and leant forward on to the work top. “Never apologize for something that you can justify.”


“In English?”


My fingers twitched towards my pockets. I declined them. “It means don’t apologize for anything.”


“You know, dearest William,” insert threat with brush here. “That may be the reason that you get yourself in to these messes of yours.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I brushed off. “I’m not in a mess.”


He smirked. “Sure you’re not. You and Fredrick are just not talking for the sake of it.”


“Something like that.”


He sat in the seat next to me. “Dixie, sometimes you have to be the bigger person.”


“I’m not the bigger person.” I said. “I never am.”


“Correct me if I’m prying again, I have no doubt that you won’t even hesitate, but isn’t it about time that you tried it.”


I scowled, folding my thin lips in to an even thinner line. My wide eyes grew wider and my ears probably flushed a shade of unnecessary red. People would have usually run for the hills, they wouldn’t have wasted a second before scampering off. But Christopher Avery just sat there. Not even a flinch.


He rolled his eyes and took my hand away from the brush. I imagine with a slight fear of where it would land when I let go of my own accord. “We only have a few months left at Hogwarts,” he said, if anything, he looked a little sad as he made the realization. “Pruitt, I think that we should put our differences aside, and make other people miserable for a change.”


My frown loosened a little. The tosser had a point. “What’s in it for me?”


“Your Freddy will apologise in no time.”


“And how do you think that will happen, incase you haven’t noticed. I’m not his favorite person right now.”


“Dixie, Dixie, Dixie.” He said solemnly. “You’re so naïve, so new to the business. It’s called manipulation. But from what I hear, you’re rather acquainted with the subject.”


I raised a brow coolly. “Christopher, I don’t want him to apologise for any reason but he wants to.” I could practically feel hi radiate disapproval. “But I will take you up on the truce.”


He nodded one. “Truce it is.”


“Bertie’s Beans! Five knuts a pack! Bertie’s Beans!”


“Bets! Place your bets here! Slytherin or Gryffindor, the time is upon us!”



“Chocolaaatee Frooo-ooogs!”


I kicked the wooden bench in the stadium and sent the third year flying. “Will you fuck off with your effing Frogs?” He rolled over and began to hastily gather the contents of his stock.


“Anger issues much?” Gabe asked, gently taking hold of my shoulders and guiding me away from the imbecile child.


“I don’t have anger issues.” I hissed through gritted teeth. “He shouted it in my ear!”


Gabe furrowed his brows. “And he deserved to be pushed over, did he?”


“Sorry, Sir.” I mocked. “Next time I will let the bastard scream at me.”


He shook his head. “You’re missing the point.”


“Should I kiss him as well?” I asked. “Show him just how much I appreciate his scream.”


Shaking his head once again he ignored my comment. “You’ve just flown past the sarcasm checkpoint and shall never return.”




Gabe picked me up and carried me through the crowd. I leant over his back in a fireman’s lift and pounded my fists in to his lower back. “Gabriel! What do you think that you are doing?!”


“Saving the third years life!” He commented, placing me down near the middle of the stands. “You would have butchered him.”


“That was the point.” I scowled. “His time in this school is limited.”


He threw his arm over my shoulder. “He’s only doing what he’s told.”


“To cause misery?”


“To sell chocolate frogs.” He corrected. Pointing towards the pitch with one hand and his other with his index finger pressed lightly against my lips, he grinned. “Now zip it DP, the game is about to start.”


Beside me, he grinned cheekily and dug in to his pocket. He pulled out a handful of Galleons and called over Louis Weasley, he appeared to be taking bets. I sent him a disapproving smile and he winked. The cheek.


“Four on Gryffindor,” Gabe hollered at Lou over the cheering crowds.


Louis smirked. “You’ve inherited Dixie’s House Pride I can see.”


“Nah, its just logic,” He said with a shrug, nudging me with his shoulder. “DP here has royally pissed off your cousin; he’s going to play better now.”


A fifth year infront of us whipped her head around, nearly taking me out with her pony tail. Her hair was infested with I-Hate-Dixie-Gremlins. Believe me when I say, L’Oreal doesn’t taste as nice as you would think. I had a sudden scare as I pondered whether that was actually what she did use. I shuddered at the thought.

“Is it too late to change my bet?”


Gabe snorted. “Way to keep House Pride there Stevens.”


I merely shook my head with derision. “Turn around,” I hissed. “Or you’re loosing that pony tail of yours.” I made a snipping motion with my fingers and she turned back instantly, not hesitating to shuffle forward through the crowds.


“You really are a ball of optimistic sunshine,” Gabe said lightly. “You realise that?”


Louis disappeared back in to the crowd, having taken down Gabe’s bet. He rapidly began to fill in another command in amongst the sea of Gold and Red students. Beside me, stood a second year, his face was painted to match the roaring lion of our House.


The odd student waved a banner, others chanted. From the Slytherin corner, green and silver sparks shot from someone’s wand, sending a slithering snake in to the sky. An uproar of encouragement arose from the area, it similarly matched the contrasting boo’s. School spirit wasn’t hard to come by, but when it came to Quidditch Matches, the rivalry and tension in the air could be cut neatly with a knife.


An increasingly threatening chant erupted from the upper west part of the stands, we stood in the east. It was silenced begrudgingly by the teachers. It arose again as the seconds to the game drew nearer, the volume and octave that it was sung at began to increase until finally the players began to fly through the doors.


Professors and Prefects were stationed between the divide that was our school. A fight had already broken out and one dueling match. A Prefect had already been sent to the Hospital Wing with major burns.


Gabe held back an inner scream but proceeded to yell as the Gryffindors took a lap of the pitch in tow. He grabbed hold of my shoulders and shook me back and forth. “Where is your excitement?” he demanded. “Where is your smile?”


I glanced upwards, meeting his concerned gaze. I forced a smile. “It’s there.”


“That’s not your smile.” He said. “That’s your ‘I’m-going-to-fake-it-because-I-wish-that-he-would-stop-asking grin.” He was shouting, struggling to be heard over the cheers of our Housemates. “I’m not going to give up by the way.”


I knew from personal experience that he was incredibly persistent. “I’m fine.”


“You don’t look it.” He said, peering at my expression, his face getting closer to mine.


I pressed my nose to his. “Well I am.”


As a first year screamed from behind me, chanting Freddy’s name I felt a small pang of my former excitement rush back in to my body. I began to enthusiastically squeal quietly bouncing on my toes subtly. Gabe pulled away and smacked his forehead against mine. “Nutted!”


“You’re unreasonably annoying!” I shouted in to his face, pressing my fingers to my eyebrow.


With a wink he threw his arms around my shoulders. “I try my best.”


I met his playful expression with a perceptibly irritated look and I frowned. It was hard to achieve in amongst the crowd. It quickly turned to a smile and I shook my head and cast my gaze over to the pitch instead. When the First Year had been calling Freddy’s name, I hadn’t realized that he was so close. Metres infact. His gaze quickly tore away from Gabe and I. he had been watching.


Louis walked past, handing me a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and grinned, pulling my gaze away from Fred. “I thought that you could enjoy them.” He said. “Whether they are digested or used as ammo.”


I grinned and ruffled his hair. “I knew there was a reason that you were my favorite Weasley.”


“Don’t let Freddy hear you say that,” he gasped. “By the way that he’s been glaring at you, I’d say it wouldn’t end well.”


“He can glare all he wants,” I said, evidently annoyed. “But when the wind changes, he will be stuck like that forever.”


“I think the wind just blew.” Louis noted, rolling his eyes.


I looked towards Fred. The scowl that enveloped his features was disgraceful.


“It blew along time ago, Lou.” I replied with a dash of sarcasm. He left and I had to double back from Gabe’s inspecting expression. “What?”


He merely shook his head with a little astonishment. He stood up straight, his full height startling me a little. “I think I’ve just figured out why you’re parading the Mona Lisa expression.”

I glowered. “I am not a scowling portrait.”


“But you could be,” he tried. “One day. You’ve mastered the scowl.” If anything it grew. I shook my head and turned back to the game. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest; Charisma threw the Quaffle through the hoop. Gabe nudged the bottom of my chin and joined in with the cheering.


It was at that moment that Lee Jordan Jr’s voice that was booming through the stadium had registered in my ears. “That’s 30-10 to Gryffindor!” His voice was slightly crackled; the megaphone was in need of a replacement. This didn’t seem to bother the crowd in the slightest; they only cheered louder and captured the attention of possibly every animal in the forest.


“The cold weather doesn’t seem to be slowing down Potter as he sends it through the hoop for the third time this game.” He resumed gaining another roaring response. “40-10 to the Gryff’s. The Slytherins don’t seem too happy with this result. But I couldn’t care less. They’re over the other side of the pitch, how can they hurt me for any particular demoralizing comments that I will probably make. They’re all slimy gits anywa – what do you meant that’s inappropriate Professor?”

Gabe only encouraged this, shouting louder than the crowd around us at Lee’s behavior. A quick muffled sound was sent though the microphone as I could gather that McGonagall had gathered hold of it.


“It’s 40-10 to Gryffindor and Malfoy has the Quaffle.” I turned my attention to Scorpius, the strangely muscular boy for a lad of his height. He was close to Charisma. I could never stick him personally. Too sly for my taste.


“Get that stern woman away from the microphone, Lee.” Gabe muttered. I could gather that it was mostly to himself.


A section of boo’s erupted through the Slytherin stands, knocking me from my ponder. My eyes darted back towards the pitch. I winced at the play. Avery resettled himself upon his broom having been battered by the bludger. Freddy hit another, and another and another. He was on fire.


Lee snatched the microphone back. “Freddy is there something that you wish to talk about, love?” he teased. The tugging on McGonagall’s behalf could be heard through the amplifiers. “It’s not good to bottle things up.”


A bludger was aimed towards the teachers’ stands.


“Now, now, Freddy.” Lee mocked. “That wasn’t ver-“


“Weasley!” McGonagall shouted. “Detention!”


Another to add to his résumé.


Freddy didn’t seem to care in the slightest.


On the upward account that McGonagall and Lee seemed to be sharing the microphone, their contradicting announcements filled the stadium, causing a (if it was even possible) bigger up rise from the crowd. With a regretful expression sent my way, Fred flew off to Drew, his fellow beater. They continued to bat the ball between each other, taking out the odd Slytherin Chaser as they passed.


Boo’s drifted from the stands as Slytherin scored another hoop. The Quaffle flew through and jolted Ellie from her formal posture. I screamed in protest, along with many others.


“Are they serious?!” Gabe called out. “That should be a foul, Malfoy aimed that n purpose.”


“Oh look. Now he’s chatting to Charisma.” I said, finding myself slightly amused with disbelief more than anger or understanding.


Gabe grunted. “I never understood their friendship.”


“No one does,” I said with a shrug. “James only puts up with it because Charisma would never talk to him again if he didn’t.”


“You have strange friends.” He acknowledged.


I nodded. “You’re at the top of the list, babe.”


His free hand budged the bottom of my chin. “You’ve just made my year.”


“Stop being an idiot.”


“No, I’m not kidding around DP,” he said slightly wistful. “You’re the light of my life.” I rolled my eyes, “The apple of my eye. You mean the world to me.”


I quickly considered if his brain would explode if it were ever to have to deal with being serious, even to contemplate the thought. He pulled me in to a careless bear hug, holding me in the ‘Dixie-Special’. He began to jive and cheer along with the others, leaving me under his arm.

I eventually twisted out of Gabe’s loose grip and he loosened his arm. I punched him lightly in the arm with a grin and looked briefly out over the stadium; my eyes caught the contrasting stare of somebody else’s.


This was going to be a long game.



As it came, I wasn’t too far off. Four hours later I stood, arms folded callously, in the same position I had started in. An undisputed pandemonium cried out from the Gryffindor stands as Ellie caught the snitch. Its wings flitted back in to the golden casing and it snapped shut. Her arm punched through the air. The cries got louder. Chaos began to ensue throughout the stands. At the line between the Gryffindor and the Slytherins, the students began to batter one another, foam fingers smacked round another’s head, homemade and enchanted banners were used to wrap up an enemy. One in a Slytherin banner fell down four levels of the stands before he was thrown in to the air.


Prefects ran throughout the tumult to unsuccessfully calm down the students.


They failed.




The bench beneath my feet seemed to shake uncontrollably as students began to pour from the stands, jumping down from level to level. I grabbed hold of Gabe’s arm as he lifted me up, the back of my knees resting over his arm, my back lightly being supported by the other.


I felt my sight flutter in to a complete frenzy as the screams grew louder, louder than I could ever achieve. My brain was working far too slowly to keep up with the speed of everything around me.


Gabe leant forward and placed my back down on to the benches. His arm wrapped around my shoulders. “You were never really one for these games were you?”


I shook my head. “What do you think?”


“I’m going to go with no.”


“Ding, ding, ding and we have a winner.”


He frowned. “These games tend to make you more sarcastic, if that’s even possible.”


“Gabe, my love.” I said, placing a hand on to his shoulder. “Nothing is ever impossible.”


With a single pat to his jacket, I smudged the light red paint that was on his cheeks. He shook his head and smacked my fingers away before grabbing hold of my arm and speeding off down the stands.


He jumped over the closed gate, avoiding the stream of desperate students to get on to the pitch. After a game, I would usual sit in the stands. Freddy would come up and find me. Today, I sincerely doubt that happening. Gabe lifted me over the gate, he was easy to read.


“DP, don’t be scared.”


“I’m not scared.” I snapped. “I just don’t want to talk to him.”


He coughed something that subtly sounded like ‘scared’. With a sucker punch to the lower stomach (on my behalf), he pulled me away from the gathering crowds in the centre of the pitch. “Dix, you have to take life in to your own hands.” He pushed a tall forth year back over the gate. Annoyed, he got up from the floor and went around the long way. “You never know what might happen.”


“Oh yes, because that wasn’t cryptic at all.” I sneered. “Can you go away, come back and say that to me again at midnight, except can you rattle some chains and dribble blood.”


For the first time in almost seven years, Gabriel King didn’t smile at my sarcasm. Instead he brushed a loose hair from my face and punched me supportively in the shoulder. “Just go and get him tiger.”


“Don’t leave me,” I pleaded quickly.


He raised a brow. “Now, Dix, I can’t exactly come and coach you along.” Another din of delight came from the students around us. James had just flown up in to the air. The great Gryffindor Captain, once again, was acting like a tosser. “Besides, I have just seen a very pretty little brunette Hufflepuff who sent me a smile.”


He took no longer than a moment or two to plant a little kiss on my forehead and follow the bee.


This was Gabriel King. His mind was a warped vortex of caring and kindness, mixed in with mischief and low-burning sarcasm. However, he also had the small affection for women that most men do. It will be a sad day when Gabe grows up.


I felt a small tap on my shoulder. I turned with a frown.


After a few tense moments, I managed to recover from my surprise and form sentences in my head. He murmured something under his breath before looking me in the eye, before he had glanced everywhere but.





“Fuck off,” I protested, bringing my hands up to his chest as I tried to bat him away.


After a moment of curses towards one another and fumbling around, he made it possible to respect him once again. “Count to ten, Dixie.”


I had to jump up subtly once or twice and shake myself out to stop myself from freezing up. Never before had I left a persona live for telling me such a thing. But Avery could be acting a lot worse. I had to let it slide. I looked in to his ice-coloured eyes. “Never-“


“-tell you what to do, got it.”


I had just sat through four hours of utter torture being subtly hinted at that I was a sardonic bitch. Infront of me I had Christopher Avery. To my left, Freddy stood not too far away, Drew and Kyle by his side. A tall and leggy Ravenclaw was poking his chest suggestively. Drew had a dainty brunette tucked under his arm.


I had two options, this situation would end with me getting physically battered or driven to physical battering.


I stayed by Christopher. At least this way, it may be a fair fight.


He smirked at me and I ignored him. “Good game.”


“We lost.”


“I know.”


“You’ve never going to change are you?”


“Not in the slightest.” I said through gritted teeth. “I know who I am; I’m not going to change that.”


I looked up to his expression. Not an ounce of anger. Not one drop. If anything, he was amused. “It’s a good thing,” he said. “To be sure of yourself.”


“You speak like you’re not.”


He shrugged. “I’m seventeen, I still don’t know if I like Ice-cream or Chocolate cake the most.”




“I’m sorry.”


“You don’t choose between them,” I said stubbornly. “You eat them both. In my opinion, you have warm cake with cold ice-cream.”


He chuckled. “You can’t have you cake and eat it too, Dixie.” I blinked and wiped away a hair that had become stuck to my lipstick. “You should take that in to account, in more than one literal situation.” Avery only laughed as my palm met with his face. “Feisty, my dear.”


“When you suggest being friends,” I spat. “I honestly thought that you meant it.”


“But I did, and I still do.” He rubbed his cheek delicately and moved his jaw. “You pack quite a slap, Dixie. Merlin! I was only offering you friendly advice. Take it or leave it.”


“Leave it.”


He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that you’ve ever listened to anyone before, have you?”


“I listen when it means something to me.”


“And I mean nothing to you?”


I shook my head. “I thought that you might have, one day.” I said, my voice getting quieter. “But I thought wrong.”


“Well then,” he said, still no trace of anger. “You better get your pretty little butt up to the Gryffindor Tower to a certain victory party.”


“You’re a pig.”


“And you’re a Gryffindor.”


I snorted. “You’re on a roll with these insults, Chris.”


“As are you.” I rolled my eyes at his teasing tone. He wasn’t taking me seriously at all. “But trust me; mine was more of an insult that you care to believe.”


My eyes narrowed. Within a moment I had drawn my wand from my robes, but there was no need. Avery was already six feet up in the air, spinning in circles. I ignored his cries and his cusses, and all for a damned good reason.


If I turned to my left, I would see Freddy Weasley, holding his wand and laughing as if this was an everyday occurrence.


I couldn’t turn left.


Instead I went right.



AN: Hi readers! I hope that this update is a bit quicker for you! :D

So, Gabe seemed to go down a treat, I do love him. And I was a little shocked at how many of you liked Avery – it’s not a problem, I love him. But it was awesome to know that you guys too.


Anyway, any comments are appreciated, pretty please leave a review – you know the drill :P


Chapter seven shouldn’t take too long to come out, unless I miss the deadline for the Christmas closing of the queue.


He was as surprised as I was when I ran a hand through his hair, pulling off his hat and pressed my lips against his. He licked my bottom lip teasingly as our tongues moved in perfect sync. He tasted like chocolates, so dark, sweet. Forbidden. He was like the chocolate locked away in the top cupboard, your mother’s chocolate - the chocolate that you could never touch.


Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.