You are viewing a story from

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 10: I Am Seventeen, Big Blue Eyes, Wellies And Have Acrophobia.



Beautiful Chapter Image by wishaway. @ tda. 
Archabald (Archie) and Kellan Pruitt



 I cuddled my knees to my chest as I sat on the white sofa infront of the fire, I stared in to it. I briefly wondered why I had got myself in to such a state. It was an incredibly pointless thing to do, staring in to a fire, when your four year old nephew is running wild around the spotless living room. I fought the urge to push him in to the flames as he past it. I need to get back on track, to see things the way I used to. Cynical and pessimistic. I need to see everyone as a threat, everything as bad.


But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t. Not in the depth that I wanted.


I was only alerted out of my daze by the approaching foot steps, not by the sound of smashing cups.


I turned around and looked at the opening bedroom door. For a moment I hoped that it was just the wind, opening and closing the doors as it does – but then I remembered, there were no windows open, there was no way for it to cross through. But then, out of the room, came Nick. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jeans. His shaggy brown hair fell in to his eyes, he looked tired. He looked, pale, sad and maybe even a little lost. It seemed unusual seeing Nick in such a way.


Nicholas Pruitt was the light in a dark room, the life of a party. He was always there with a lollypop when you felt down. When I was young, the twins used to push me in to our fathers pond, I was only little and their height advantage on me was astounding. Nick would always be the one to pull me out, dry me off and then give me a pat on the back. When I was eleven and I received my Hogwarts letter, he celebrated with me and bought me my first pair of wellies – I haven’t been persuaded to wear much other option of shoe since.


He looked up and saw me sitting infront of the blazing fire. He rubbed his eyes. It was one in the afternoon; this was his first exit of his bedroom. His tired look suddenly ended and was replaced with his usual careless expression. It took me no more than a moment to realise that this wasn’t his real feeling.


When he was seventeen and became of age, Nick bought his own flat. It was small and under-decorated; it took him no more than a week or two to fix whatever problems was with the plumbing, he was a DIY expert. The flat was pained a light shade of grey, white furniture and table tops. The orange fire gave a light glow to the room.


Nick jumped over the back of the sofa and laded on the cushions with a large sinking motion. He took the pillow that I was holding and threw it over the back.


“How are you today DP?!”


I gave him a despairing look, only slightly at the nickname that I recognized so painfully. Gabriel had heard Nick use it many years ago – it became his too. “How am I? You came out of your bedroom looking like Slughorn after a night of rough-and-tumble.”


“Are you serious?!” He exclaimed and grabbed hold of his tummy. “I work hard for this belly!”


I laughed quietly. “You’re such a sap.”


Another crash of cups came from the kitchen. I refrained from rolling my eyes and expressed my tired demeanor through a groan – apparently so did Nikki. There are five of us, the Pruitt kids. First born was Josiah, technically he is our legal guardian but the only guardian he considers himself to be is his sons. Then three years later came the twins, Kellan and Archie, neither seemed to grow up; their still as immature as they were back in their first year of Hogwarts.


Four years after, mother was pregnant again, this time with Nick. He will turn out to be the compassionate Pruitt, the caring one, the calm one. The only calm one. The rest of us admit that we have temper problems, problems that we are not willing to work on. I was born three years after. The only girl, the little flower in a field of weeds my mother used to say. She had no idea just how wrong she was.


By the age of five, all I wished to do was play with the ‘big boys’, I wanted to be included. When the twins would fight with Josiah, I would join in. When Kellan wanted to slide off of our country home roof on a dustbin lid, I held the rope. When Archie told me that he wanted to build a tree-house, I was first in with the hammer. They’re my older brothers; I have always looked up to them (even when they are caught holding illegal Imp fighting tournaments in their own house).


When in my third year I received a letter from the twins, Josiah’s and his wife, Heather were expecting a child. Now, it’s not that I have anything against Heather; I just find her impeccable ability to whine for five hours without stopping rather annoying…although, I always felt a strange admiration for this ability.


Today I had been woken up to the sound of banging on my bedroom door. I had moved in with Nick at the beginning of fifth year. By Christmas of that same year, I had managed to ‘Dexter-Proof’ by door. Why on Gods green earth Joss wanted to call his child Dexter is beyond me. If I remember correctly, the twins wanted to call him ‘Ethal’ or ‘Ian’ but Heather was having none of it. I can safely say that none of my brothers had any say in naming the child.


Dexter was unable to reach the handle of my door, he had inherited the Pruitt height defect – the one that makes you strangely short. However, what he had managed to inherit were the Pruitt lungs, the ones that able you to scream loud enough for you to be easily heard in Timbuktu. Being awoken by the screams of a whining child was not my ideal Wednesday morning.


Nick and I were stuck on babysit duty. Fan-fucking-tastic.


“I’ve had trouble sleeping lately.” Nick admitted quietly. I raised a brow and for a moment the miserable face that Nicholas presented first off returned. “Erin and I had a fight.”


I placed my hand in his and squeezed tight. “I’m sorry, Nikki – love sucks.”


Erin, blonde beautiful and brainy, she and Nick had been together since their sixth year. At twenty years old, Erin wanted to grow up fast, Nick didn’t.


“No it doesn’t,” he protested. “It’s the best feeling in the world. You obviously have a virgin heart.”


The word startled me in an un-expectable way. I looked in to the fire, Nick did the same. I hoped that we were as close as we used to be, where the ability to read each others mind seemed easy, all we had to do was look at the others expression. He had done as I; he built walls around him, unbreakable walls. It pained me to say that Avery was right about me in some retrospect. I saw my stubbornness in Nick.


“What happened?” I asked quietly as Dexter began to run circles around the sofa.


Nick looked away from the fire with a sigh. “She wanted kids.”


“Kids!” I echoed, “But you’re only twenty!”


He nodded. “That’s what I said. Plus after seeing this monster…” he caught Dexter on his third round of the couch and lifted him up on to the sofa. “I don’t think that I can have one of my own, not yet.”


I looked out of the window, the edges patterned with fallen snow. Nick’s flat was the second floor of a shop, a shop that the twins owned. It was in the small town of Saltwell, a small northern wizarding village – all inhabitants magical. I’m sure that there is a bear living in the woods. Below the house was a snow covered street, the old cobbled stones reflected the architecture that was the buildings.


In the centre of the town was a fountain, at this moment it was frozen but when it would get warmer, the water would flow. Archie threw me in to it during my fifth year. I was still small enough to pick up and treat like a child.


But I’m not the baby of the family anymore, now there is a literal child, not just a mental one.


Nick’s eyes glazed over me for a moment before blinking and looking back to the fire. “DP, you and Freddy – what’s happened?”


“We were talking about you and Erin.”


He looked up. “It’s not something that I want to talk about.”


“Well Fred Weasley isn’t something that I want to talk about.”


Nick didn’t mention that I had referred to Freddy as a ‘thing’ rather than a person, nor did he mention my snappy tone he was used to me. “Well, I gave you something to go on.” He whispered.


In response to this I cocked my head to the side and caught Dexter as he flung himself towards me for a hug. I held him tight. “We got in to an argument.”


Nick snorted. “Well I could see that, love. Usually you would be inseparable at the train station, but the both of you couldn’t wait to get out of there.”


“We had an argument,” I repeated. “About…something.” I wasn’t sure if I was able to discuss this with my brother, no matter how close we were, talking about sex with your brother is a definite no-go.


“Ah, that something.” He said understandingly.


For a moment we were both silent, he stared at my hand in his and then to Dexter, his head now lying in my lap, his little eyes closed so feverishly. Nick sighed and looked back to me.


“If he’s laid a hand on you-“


“What?! No!” I exclaimed, looking deep in to the fire. “It was just a big misunderstanding, but neither of us seem to be able to get over it.”


“Sex messes stuff up…” he let his voice trail off and he looked away.


I was quiet for a moment, I let everything settle. Dexter was taking steady deep breaths as he slept, the only sound to be heard. It made a change from the sound of his screaming or constant ability to smash things. I felt as if I needed to talk about it out loud, to let somebody know how I was really feeling but as much as I loved Nick, it wasn’t him.


I blinked twice as I opened my eyes. It made no difference; my room was dark. In the apartment of white and black, my room was red – well, one red wall. ‘Till the day I die, I will be a Gryffindor.


I considered my situation. I hadn’t lost Freddy, merely pushed him away. I hadn’t lost Gabe; somehow the entire situation had managed to bring us closer. But I couldn’t stand the thought to look at him and know that he had the one thing I had always wished that I could give to Freddy.


But Freddy had always denied it; he had always pushed me away in the opposite way to how I have pushed him. But it was pushing all the way. It may have been hypothetical, but it hurt just as much.


I looked to my ceiling with sadness. This time last year, Nick had to bolt the door by magic and muggle methods to keep me away from my friends. This year, he has to bolt my bedroom door to keep me out of it. I have felt no need to see them, no need to chase them all up. If they wanted to talk to me, then they could. James had the right idea, already twelve letters I had replied to, but with each one I could see he was getting more and more desperate to get me out of the house.


I had become acrophobic.


I am seventeen, big blue eyes, wellies and have acrophobia.


What a delightful combination.


Freddy Weasley was not perfect and flawless like everyone thinks. He has walls up, like me; he hides his emotions and instead expresses them through a course of one-night stands. I know that he hides things from me, he always has done. He feels as if he can’t share with us, he doesn’t want to burden us with his problems, no matter how much we try to dismiss that fact; it’s not true. He still won’t let up.


I pulled the thick white duvet up to my neck and then my clenched fists followed, gripped in them was the seam of the duvet. As I pulled hard on the sheet my toes suddenly became exposed. I wiggled them with an internal winge and a little groan, I was not yet used to the cold. Give me another hour.


The dim winter morning sun streamed through the gap in the curtains, lightening up a straight line across the duvet. My eyes followed the line to the gap. Outside there was no noise. By this time the street would usually be filled with busy shoppers, instead all that lurked was the falling snow. Today it seemed different.


Outside the door I could hear Nick shouting, more cheering at someone in the kitchen. Thirty minutes ago, the twins had arrived. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was their actions to make him laugh. His chuckle was deep, contagious. I hid my smile in the sheets of my bed; my emotion was not one for smiling.


I waited for the cry of the children as they walked down the street, passing through shop after shop. I waited for the crashing of the boxes from the shop below as Kellan would trip with it in hand, Archie would pick it up only to mimic his brothers actions. They certainly are an odd pair.


Snow landed gently on to the old windows of my room, not making a sound. I wanted to roll over, to stare at the wall instead of the outside world through the gap in the curtain, but I couldn’t find the energy. I lay still.


Only a moment later the cheering in the other room reached a maximum peak, it jeered off before coming to silence, then came laughter. It wasn’t unusual for the boys to run around loudly, although it was unusual for me not to be there too. We were hell for the neighbors, luckily they were never upstairs; they were always in their shops. 


The rowdy footsteps that were once circling the living room in a cheery song became increasingly louder as they approached my door. It banged loudly as it swung open, hitting the wall behind it.


At this point I was prepared for anything. I was prepared for a panther to be at my door, my brother in only a towel and maybe even Slughorn – hell I would have been less surprised if Slughorn turned up at my door than what actually did.


Archie stood on the left, his arm resting on the door frame, one foot on tip toes, a little higher than his other. His dark brown hair ran in to his eyes, brushing his lashes as he shook his head playfully. Kellan stood happily on the right, his palm pressed heroically to his chest. He stood in a hero’s stance; the other hand formed a fist and was pressed to his hip. They were completely identical.


Well, apart from the costumes.


Kellan stood strongly in a blue Superman kit, red pants and all. The logo was spread tightly over his chest, the costume maybe a tad too tight. Archie sported a batman emblem under his cape. The mask covered his features, the ‘bat-ears’ over his hair.


Until this day mother and father have trouble telling them apart. If only they could see their sons now…in all their glory.


They wasted no time in running those few steps forward and jumping on to my bed. It fit the three of us at a squish. They jumped in under the covers, ignoring my screams of protest. The morning air made my voice raspy. I told myself that it was the reason for their disobedience.


They folded their arms over the tops of the covers and simultaneously turned to me in the middle.


Archie smirked from my right. “Morning, Dix.”


“We’re here to bust you out.”


“Because you know, you can’t be locked in your room on a beautiful-“


“-day like this.”


I gave a dry smirk. “I don’t feel like getting up.”


“Well who does?” Kellan chimed, prodding me in the hip. “The snow is falling, the tree in the living room is twinkling and the son of Satan is gone,” I smiled at his description of Dexter.


“But it’s a special day.” I furrowed a brow and Archie elaborated. “It’s Christmas day.”


If my expression didn’t say it all, then my sigh certainly did. I had spent almost a week in this room, only surfacing for showers and meals and still I mainly brought them in to my room to eat alone.


“You forgot?” Kellan asked, looking surprised before annoyed. He looked over his shoulder to Arch.


He pulled his bat ears off of his head and held the mask to his chest. Assisted by a sad expression he turned to me, “Dix – are you alright?”


“Well noticed dumb-arse,” his twin assaulted with a punch. “As if the un-showered, cuddled up in bed at early afternoon wasn’t a dead giveaway.”


“Early afternoon?” I echoed. “What time is it?”


Archie stopped glaring at his brother and put his hand on to my shoulder. “It’s one thirty, love. You really need to get out more.”


“Once again, you’ve managed to boil down ‘Are you alright’ in to its most insulting form?”


I rolled my eyes at the pair and looked back to the ceiling, my fingers fiddling with the hem of the thick duvet. “Its fine, Kell – I’ll be up soon.”


“No you won’t,” he said.


Archie nodded. “We know you, Dix.”


“You’re not going to get up-“


“-Until the last minute.”


Kellan furrowed his brow. “Unless someone drags you.”


He shared a mischievous smile with his brother. “But then you usually jump back up in to bed. It’s scary the connection you have with this thing.”


“You’re not a morning person.”


“Although, if we dragged you out now, you’d probably just lay on the floor.” Archie muttered. “You’re acting pathetic enough.”


My eyes snapped open.


“And by pathetic-“


“-We mean, utterly beautiful and-“


“-Adorable, we would never think of you in any other way.”


“Of course, dear brothers.” I announce grandly. My voice was still a little rusty. I wrapped my arms around either of their necks and squished them close. “Merry Christmas.”


Kellan coughed and tried to head butt my shoulder. “Is this your Christmas present to us?”


“Holding us hostage under your surprisingly strong grip?”


There was suddenly a slight hissing noise erupting from the seams of Archie’s cape. I twirled rather dizzily towards the growl before looking at Archie. The sheepish expression may have been a slight give away. His eyes refused to look at me, but his hands rushed to the movement in his cape.


I blinked at the twins. “I was always told that there was something wrong with the two of you.”


“What gave it away?” Archie demanded strangely. “The subtle moving of my cape or the fact that I have one on in the first place.”


Kellan rolled his eyes rather pointedly. “Or option C, when we were seven and decided that Josiah would look good with a shaved head.”


“I will have to go with the latter.” I said halfheartedly; my attention was still focused on the moving cape. “Archie, seriously – you look constipated.”


Kellan threw another glare; I knew that I had inherited it from someone. “Arch, mate, just give it to her.”


“But this isn’t under the right circumstance.” He replied, rolling over carefully and lying on his front, his cape dangling and shaking horrifically. “She isn’t clean nor is she dressed!”


His tone was pleading and slightly mocking. Kellan’s wasn’t much better as they continued to argue as my suspense and much to my dismay. It took only a minute for the reason behind everything to come clear.


A small package tumbled from Archie’s cape. It was no bigger than my forearm and fell a foot kicking and hissing all the way down. It rolled over, the object obviously alive and wrapped in red paper, decorated occasionally with a colourful cartooned monster. One, I believe, had a bogey dripping from its nose.


“It’s silly really, we get her a hopping parcel and she gives us a headlock.”


I looked up to Kellan and shot him a reflecting glare. “Does someone want to explain?” I asked politely, arms folded, as the package began to literally hop across the bottom of the bed. Neither brother went to catch it.


“We may have got you-“


“-a little something.” Kellan finished. The package rolled off the end of the bed – in what I assume was an accident due to its protesting cries – and landed on the floor with a slight thud and a groan. “We knew that it should be for you when it bit Arch on the finger. It was Dixie in miniature.”


The more laid back of the two lifted up his plastered finger to show me. The package was making its way towards what it gathered was the door. It was the wall. Upon realizing that it hadn’t reached its ideal destination, it made its way in the other direction. I turned around to notice Archie’s finger was closer to my face.


“Kiss it,” he said. I did. “All better.”


What would have been a minor scratch was covered with a white plaster; little blue monsters were covering the space. He smiled and looked back over to the package.


Kellan shook his head. “You’ve got to give it props.”


“It doesn’t give up.”


I nodded in agreement. “Do either of you want to tell me what ‘it’ is?”


“You’ll have to open it.” Kellan sing-songed, wagging a finger in my face.


I smacked it away and held it still. “Are you mental? It bit Arch on the finger and is currently trying to make an escape via wardrobe. What is it going to find, Narnia?”


“It’s a very intriguing thing.” Archie said. “It was hopping along the bottom of the bed a moment ago.”


Kellan nodded. “Would we ever get you anything potentially harmful – on second thought, don’t answer.” He added. “And keep the examples to yourself.”


I pushed the memory of my sixth birthday to the back of my mind. They had bought be a Hippogriff, correction, stolen me a Hippogriff. It was an embarrassing apology that Father had to make to the wizard-zoo.


“Just open it.” They encouragingly whispered. The simultaneous order would have creeped me out most, but I happened to be used to it. They were right; I do need to get out more.


I sat up from the bed and crawled out from the middle, swinging my legs around and standing up at the end with a heaved sigh. I walked over to the package and poked it with my foot.


“Don’t kick it!” Kellan taunted while Archie snorted. “You’re bloody unbelievable, Dix.”


“We don’t kick your headlocks.” I furrowed a brow at Archie. He had never been the brightest crayon in the colouring box, infact neither of them had. But it’s what made them who they are today, two blundering idiots who have a top-priority placement on the Magical-Creatures-Cruelty-List.


I bit down on to my lip and bent down to the struggling pastel, picking it up wasn’t on my list of stupid-things-to-do today. Ripping the tape off of the package was the easy step, I then leant in to unwrap it only to find that it did it itself. I had prepared myself for a small lion to poke its head from the present, maybe even a whining child…but not a cat.


It stopped struggling as its ears pricked up once more. I looked to the boys. “You wrapped up a cat?!” I didn’t know whether to be astonished or amused.


They nodded feverishly. “It was asleep when we did it.”


“So you wrapped it up?”


Kellan smiled. “In monster paper.”


I wanted to question their sudden love of monsters but I doubted I would receive a serious answer. “I love it.”


Their smiles grew. “You love it?! Look Arch, she actually loves something!”


“High five, my brother!”


I rolled my eyes and grasped the cat from the paper. I stroked her absent mindedly, she didn’t seem pissy or mean like the boys had described. It closed its beady eyes that sat in its tiny face – still a little too big for its body. It’s purring was a little messed up, coughing cutely after every few. 


“It’s probably full of hairballs,” Archie acknowledged. He reached out to stroke the cat. He retraced quickly after its eyes turned to slits. “Yep, definitely deadly.”


“I forgot how small it was.”


“You forgot?” I echoed tearing my loving gaze away from the cat. Both seemed oddly surprised that I hadn’t yet been attacked by its strangely sharp claws. “When exactly did you wrap it up?”


They looked a little sheepishly at one another and muttered an answer.


“Sorry, lads.” I apologized with a sickly sweet undertone. “I didn’t quite understand that.”




“One more time.”


“Yesterday night.” They chorused.


I almost dropped the cat.


“So, not only did you wrap up a live cat,” I recalled hesitantly. “You also did it the night before it was going to be opened.”


“It was asleep!”


Archie nodded in agreement. “The paper also has breathing holes.” He gestured to the pinpricked holes in the paper. I bit my tongue. They looked as if they were done with a quill, or that muggle implement…a pen.


I look up to the twins. “And you wonder why you’re on the Ministry’s-Animal-Cruelty-List.”


It took them no longer than four seconds to get out of my room. Whether it was because of the kissy noises that I began making at the beast, or the fact that they wanted to get out of its paw range, I will never know. All I can recall is the slamming of the door behind them. The cat hissed as it did.


I heard a call from outside the door. Nick. “He’s called Hannibal Lecter.”


“Excuse me?”


“The cat,” he replied. “It’s called Hannibal. It did try to take a chunk out of Archie’s finger after all.”


I nodded in agreement. Hannibal it was. Its snowy white fur was a contrast to its bright blue eyes. A little wet pink nose poked out from its face. It wasn’t the prettiest of all things, but it was mine. He was mine.


Christmas seemed to suddenly take an up turning until I remembered earlier this year. I heard Freddy’s voice. That was usually a present in itself.




I laughed unexpectedly and stifled a gasp. “What will you do if I leave you?”


“I’ll be all alone and buy many cats.”


“Then I guess that I can never leave you,” he commented perceptively. I ignored the little flip that my heart seemed to take as he spoke. His voice was so deep it shook my thin frame. “But there’s nothing wrong with being a cat lady.”


“I never said that there was.” I rounded on him. “Infact, I was rather looking forward to obtaining many cats.”


He looked at me sternly. “You can’t have that.” He pushed me in to the shadows of the corridor. “I can’t have you preferring a helpless cat to me.”


“I am suddenly feeling an undying love for all things feline.”


He snorted irritably. “I’ll be sure to pick you up some cat-nip, love.” I smiled like a child and he prodded my nose with his finger.




I felt the urge to assist that cat to its trip to Narnia, to throw it through the wardrobe myself. And maybe follow it.




It had been one of those days, one of those few days that you get in a year. The ones where you get up feeling lousy and end feeling remotely the same. But I had no reason to; it was Christmas day, three of my brothers were acting like hopeless idiots and there was a new addition to the family in the form of a vicious cat that I have already grown to adore. Let’s face it, I do have reasons, but none of them are going to get me here, not today.


I let out a long sigh, the colour from the outside air turning to mist from the sudden rush of heat. A little red hat was situated on to my head, flattening my locks. Today I wore plimsolls – the first shoe that I had woken up to see. This cold early-evening I wore a smile on my face, one that was plastered there for the good of the others.


Kellan and Archie sang a final song with a bottle of rum before crashing out. What a delightful pair. I had followed Nicks suggestion of taking a walk, Merlin knew that we both needed to get out, to escape.


He sat down on the thick wall of the fountain – frozen from flowing. I followed suit and took the space next to him. Nick leant forward and rested his forearms on to his thighs, dropping his head slightly. I sat up quite the opposite, pin straight, head bowed only a little with my hands fumbling around in my lap, covered by a pair of thick mittens.


A thick white scarf was pulled tightly around my neck, stopping any air from getting in and probably out. Breathing was a new difficulty anyway, why should this make a difference? Nick sat in a hoodie and jeans, his attire for the Christmas day.


“Own up,” I ordered teasingly. “Who got them the costumes?”


Nick smirked; I could see it despite not being able to actually see his face. “They needed something different.”


“So you got them superhero costumes?”


“Yes,” he nodded. “I got you one too. Spiderman.”


“I hate spiders,” I said. “You know that.”


“I know.”


I shook my head with a small smile. “I won’t be wearing it.”




We both fell silent for similar reasons. Although we were of different ages, different ethics and jobs, our problems were fairly similar in the way of romance. We had both lost who we cared about. Upon thinking about it, that’s about it. Scratch the former; we don’t have an awful lot in common.


I was battling the stages of adolescence, kicking and screaming every step of the way, it’s what my brothers did before me and it is what I will resume to do. I have just hit a little bump in the road, a speed bump if you will. It’s telling me to slow down.


I took this speed bump as a sign. I stopped running and took time to look at the world around me, the rut that I had managed to get myself in to. The utter catastrophe that I have landed in…landed may be a bit of an understatement, I would describe it more as a marched-right-in-with-guns-blazing-and-taking-down-everyone-who-stood-in-my-way. It’s how I had been raised, I know of no other ways to deal with life.


I brushed a loose hair back behind my ear and blew little shapes of condensation in to the air. It didn’t work well. “Nick,” he looked up. “Do you think that I’m still me?”


“Do you mean, at this moment? Or in general?”


I shrugged. “I could tell you myself for the answer to the first half, how about the latter?”


“You were when you left for Seventh Year,” he admitted. “But when you came back, you weren’t Dixie anymore.”


“I’m still me.”


“Not on the surface,” Nick said sharply. “Today, where are your wellies? Where is your snoopy top, you love that damned thing.” I bit down on to my lip and looked down to the floor. “Dixie, you’re my little sister and right now I want to actually attack Fred Weasley, but I won’t because I know that it will upset you. But I know you and you have been dealing with Weasley for years now, so it can’t just be something that he’s done, can it?”


I shook my head. “Other stuff has happened. I guess it’s all just, knocked me.”


“Well get knocked back.” He said. “I broke up with my girlfriend, there is no way of getting that back, to getting back to what we were. But you’re seventeen and you have fallen out with a friend. Love, you can fix that any day.”


I didn’t look away from the floor; I merely pulled at a loose strand of cotton from my mittens and counted the snow as it drifted to the floor. I knew that he was right. Nick was always right. He was a guru.


He punched me in the up per arm lightly. “I’m getting a little cold, how about making a snow man?”


“A little contradictory, but still cool” I said truthfully and slightly confused. “I’m in.”


We built one, a big one. He was almost as tall as me. He had two stones found on the street corner for eyes. He had five smaller rocks for a smiley mouth, a carrot for a nose. My hat was placed on to his head and my scarf around his neck. Two branches were squished in to his torso. Why do I call it a ‘he’ you ask? Because Nick called it Freddy. And then he kicked it down.




An; I hope you guys liked this chapter! A lot of you seemed surprised at the previous chapter; I’m glad that I managed to achieve a twist that wasn’t expected. But still, I’m sorry for the disappointment of a few that it wasn’t Avery that she was with. To clarify, she doesn’t fancy the bloke – it’s Freddy for her, all that way. :D


What did you think of Dixie’s brothers? The twins – the lovely, lovely twins, and Nick, the loving brother? I think they’re cool. :)

I’m sorry about the lack of other characters in this chapter, there wasn’t one of them from the usual crowd, but three (or four if you wish to include lovely little Dexter) new characters.


I will update soon with the next chapter.


“Did you, like, fall off of a cliff over Christmas or something?”


“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’. “Just went through a little self improvement.”


“So you’re not going to be stabbing teachers this term, then?” I shook my head. “Damn.” Kyle finished. “That’s my source of entertainment gone. Wha-“


“I’ve got a girlfriend!” Drew announced, cutting of any rude comment that Kyle was going to say.


Kyle jerked in surprise. “Huh?”


The entire gang is back together – well most of it :L

As a PS, please remember to keep the reviews 12+!