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Side Effects by wildebeastes

Format: Short story collection
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 6,315
Status: WIP

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

Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Characters: Scorpius, Albus, Lily (II), Hugo, Rose, OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Other Pairing, Rose/Scorpius

First Published: 05/08/2011
Last Chapter: 05/24/2011
Last Updated: 05/24/2011

Summary:



Ilana reckons that nine months before she and her sister were born, Zara's little egg attached itself to her little egg and sucked out all the good genes. And, despite that being scientifically impossible, everyone else seems to agree.

Including Hugo, her so-called "best friend."

A story written by dream_BIG and still_fly.


Chapter 1: What Have You Done To Me?
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Chapter Uno

Blue. Everything is blue.

That kid sitting over there with three arms is blue, Roxanne, who suddenly has snakes for hair, is blue, this greenhouse is blue—would that make it a bluehouse?—and the stars floating above my head are blue. Everything is blue. Except the sky. The sky looks hot pink. But the clouds are blue and so is that tree and—

Wheeeeee!

Sorry, I honestly don’t know where that came from. Wherever it came from though, I wonder if that’s where my brain went because right now I honestly can’t tell which way’s up and which way’s down. Even if you pushed me off the Astronomy tower I probably still wouldn’t have a clue. But that would be quite the fall. If it wouldn’t kill me, I think that’d be fun!

Merlin, why does my head hurt so much?

Oh wait, that’s probably because my left hand keeps colliding with my face. Waaait, what’s that on my hand? Is that a wart? Or a mole? I can’t tell ‘cause everything is blue but I don’t remember having a mole there. Yup, I’m pretty sure that that mole wasn’t there yesterday. But that means that I have a wart which is preposterous—

Wait a second.

Why is my left hand colliding with my face!? That’s not normal, is it?

. . . Is it!?!?!

“Weasley, what did you do to me?” I grumbled, a little bit of the sense that had abandoned me returning (key word being: little). I tried to make my hand stop smacking my face but it seems that I had absolutely no control over it. I was slumped on the floor, my back leaning against the leg of my table, and I quickly came to the abrupt realization that I couldn’t control any part of my body save for my mouth and my eyes.

“Weasley, what did you do to me!?” I repeated, louder and much more urgently. I gazed up at Hugo. He was leaning over me with a startled expression set on his features. Professor Longbottom was beside him and he reached out so that he could feel my temperature.

They all looked a gagillion times bigger than usual. And blue. We can’t forget that they’re blue.

“Ilana, you have to calm down, okay?” Professor Longbottom told me, patting my arm soothingly, “If you get too excited then you could pass out.” I wanted to nod but two things were stopping me: 1) Like I said before, I can’t move at all and 2) it was kind of hard to focus on something as trivial as nodding when I was so caught up in the fact that Professor Longbottom suddenly had two tongues.

Two tongues.

That’s outrageous.

I want two tongues. Then I could lick two ice cream cones at the same time!

Oh my sweet tap-dancing Merlin, that would be awesome.

“Someone grab her arm so she doesn’t give herself a concussion.” Longbottom instructed and Weasley immediately grabbed me by the elbow mid-slap. As soon as that arm froze, however, my right hand immediately began to slap my face instead.

You wanna know what I just noticed? My hand makes funny noises every time it hits my face!

Tee-hee.

This is fun.

Weasley grabbed my other arm and as that froze, my knee came up to collide with my face as well. That stopped my amusement immediately. This was not fun. This was not fun. WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!?

“What’s wrong with her?” Weasley spluttered to Professor Longbottom, “Why is she kneeing herself in the face?”

He sighed, conjuring up a stretcher, “That plant you dared her to eat really shouldn’t be eaten, Hugo. Her body is now going to try it’s hardest to destroy itself and she won’t be able to do a thing about it. She has no control over her muscles, and I’m guessing that she’s feeling lightheaded and disoriented. She wouldn’t be sober enough to gain control of her body even if she wanted to.”

“Longbottom . . .” I mumbled helplessly as other students in the class held down my legs to protect my face from them, “I’m not feeling too dandy.” I paused, "Oh, and could you tell me where you got that second tongue? I want one.”

He sighed, shaking his head at Weasley, “She’s hallucinating too.” He motioned for the students to let go of my body so that he could levitate it onto the stretcher. As soon as my arms were free, they continued their assault on my poor head.

But that didn’t stop me from giggling.

“I’m floating!”

“Fix her, Professor!” A girl exclaimed from behind me, she ran to the side of the stretcher and looked down at me with a horrified expression. Her brown hair whipped Longbottom’s face as she frantically glanced between me and the Professor. It was my sister! “I’ve never seen her so peppy in my entire life! It’s freaking me out!”

I giggled again.

She’s so silly.

“Don’t be ridiculousss, er . . .” I scrunched up my nose in thought, “What’s your name again?”

My sister’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Like forreals, they looked like freaky dinner plates with blue and black and white in them that were attached to her face.

“Memory loss too,” Longbottom cursed, “I’ve better hurry to the Hospital Wing. Behave while I’m gone.” He gave the students a stern look with his eight eyes and they all nodded in response. I would’ve too if I could’ve. Longbottom began to levitate my stretcher out of the greenhouse—bluehouse?—and I oohed and awed in response. Everything looked so cool.

“Wait!” My sister yelled after us, waving her arms around frantically. I looked back at her and her dinner plate eyes were swirling around in an array of different shades of blue. I didn’t think it was possible, but I felt even dizzier, “These side effects aren’t permanent, are they!?”

“Not if I hurry!” He called back, and he immediately quickened his pace.

I giggled the whole way there—whilst my arm continued bonking my cranium—thinking about my sister. She was probably gutting Hugo like a fish for daring me to eat that freaky plant! Poor bloke. Destined to be brutally murdered by the girl he’s been in love with for four years . . . What a shameful way to die.

Tee-hee.

Oh well, that’s what he gets for unintentionally drugging me up.

-

About an hour and half later after that freaky trip (my first and last, by the way), having that old fart, Madame Pompfrey, force the nastiest potion down my throat in three separate instances and passing out each time, I was completely back to normal.

Well, sort of.

Every now and again my hand will still come up to my face and slap it without mercy, but it’s not as bad. The only downer is that I can actually feel it now, and, lemme tell you, it hurts.

I was told that I have to stay here for an entire week while it wore off.

A week.

What am I supposed to do for a week?

Play patty cake with my imaginary friend, Bob?

Not that I have an imaginary friend named Bob or anything . . .

“Why are you imprisoning me here?” I asked Madame Pompfrey as she stirred up another potion nearby. She was humming happily as if it was a great joy to have a patient in this godforsaken room for the first time in months. There’s a reason people avoid getting sick nowadays, Pomfrey! It’s because of you!

“Because I know you, Ilana.” She stated simply.

And?”

“If I keep you here then I can assure you won’t do something stupid.” She said, “Like Quidditch. If your body is still trying to destroy itself when you’re that high in the air, don’t you think it’d be pretty easy for it to just jump off your broom?”

I grumbled.

“I don’t like missing classes.”

She snorted.

“Right.”

I grumbled some more.

“When can I have visitors?” I demanded, figuring that if I was going to be stuck here, I ought to at least be permitted some company soon . . . and if she’s going to torture me, then I’m going to torture her. I’m going to invite every person I know to visit me. We’re going to have a freaking party in her precious Hospital Wing. Rebellious teenagers and all.

Her lips curled in distaste but she tried her best to smile anyways and said through gritted teeth, “Soon.” I’m pretty sure her wrinkly eye twitched.

And—hallelujah—at that exact moment, the doors burst open and in barged two bickering teenagers. Madame Pompfrey huffed but exited to her study despite her hatred of visitors, taking her potion with her. Any other girl would have smiled fondly as her twin sister and best friend scurried towards her when she’s down, frantic to see how she’s doing. But I’m not any other girl. I’m Ilana Saxton. And right now I was murdering them with my eyes.

“—she could have died, you idiot!” My sister yelled at Hugo.

“I didn’t think she’d actually eat it!”

“Well she did!”

“Well it’s not my fault that she’s stupid!” Hugo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. I wondered if they even noticed me sitting here, safe and sound . . . and bored.

“It’s not her fault that she’s stupid either! I’m sorry that I got the better genes.”

My fraternal twin is such a sweetheart, I swear.

“So it’s your fault that she’s stupid?”

“Of course not!”

“Now you’re not making any sense!”

“Your face doesn’t make any sense!”

“Will you two shut it?” I inquired of them impatiently, “My head hurts so much that I think it’s about to explode.”

They shut up immediately and turned to me, as if surprised to find me here. Merlin, it’s like they had no idea where they were going or something and they just happened to end up in the Hospital Wing. Fancy that!

“Ilana!?” My sister’s velvety voice exclaimed, switching from enraged to relieved to ecstatic in just those three syllables of my name. That may seem like it’d sound horrible but, of course, my sister pulled it off smoothly.

“Yeah, who’d you expect?”

“You’re okay!”

“For the most part.” I agreed bitterly and at that moment my hand slapped my face again. I groaned, “That’s really, really annoying.”

“Yeah,” Hugo said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head lightly, “Sorry about that.”

I shrugged, “It’s whatever. It’s not like you knew that plant would do that to me.”

Hugo smiled.

My sister, on the other hand, frowned at the boy, “Just because my sister forgives you,” She spat venomously, “doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

I rolled my eyes. Hugo is so openly in love with her and she’s probably the only one who doesn’t realize it. She never talks to me about her feelings for the boy (other than, you know, how much she hates him) but I’ve got an inkling that she’s so rude to him because she doesn’t want to like him in that way. She’s very dramatic about her feelings, you see.

“We’ll see, Zara.” He said simply, smirking. He scooted two chairs over to the side of my bed and plopped himself down, my sister following suit.

Zara! That’s right. I can’t believe I forgot her name.

“When is Pompfrey letting you out of here?” Zara asked me, trying her best to calm down and ignore Hugo.

“A week.”

“What!?” Hugo yelled, standing up immediately and throwing his arms into the air wildly, “But we’ve got a Quidditch match tomorrow! What’s the team going to do without our best Chaser!?” I rolled my eyes. He and I both knew that I wasn’t the best Chaser on the team.

“You’ll be fine without me,” I shrugged, “Besides, Roxanne will enjoy taking my place. Doesn’t she still want to get her revenge on Davies or something?”

Hugo raised an eyebrow, “Why are you so calm about this? Normally you’d blow a gasket.”

I shrugged again, “To tell the truth, I’m still kind of loopy. I’ll probably blow a gasket later.”

“Er . . .” Hugo began, “Please don’t.”

“Nope, now I have to.”

Great.”

“Shut up, Weasley,” Zara snapped sassily, “This is your entire fault anyways.”

Hugo sank back into his chair, arms crossed. Poor boy had no idea what he was getting himself into when he fell head over heels for my sister. I swear. He must be stupid.

Yeah, that’s probably it.
 

-

A/N: heyyyy it's still_fly! (or lonnie.. i'm just gonna say lonnie cause it's easier, capiche?)

i bet you guys weren't expecting this. like forreal, saval and i already have stories to update.. but we couldn't resist. you have no IDEA how much fun we're having writing this. i hope you guys enjoy! just to explain things a bit, for each chapter saval and i are going to switch POVs. its gonna be kind of crazy so get excited.

and don't forget to review!!
 
 
 
 


Chapter 2: This Is Not My Fault.
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CHAPTER TWO - HUGO.

 

Look, I really didn’t know this was going to happen.

I mean, sure, I might have dared my idiot of a best friend to eat some funky-looking plant in Herbology – I didn’t think she was actually going to eat it! What kind of mentally inept person does something like that?

I swear, most of the time I seriously wonder if Ilana has a developmental issue. Like a brain developmental issue. A severe one.

It would explain so much.

Sometimes I feel really bad for poor old Ilana. Of all the genes to get in her gene pool, she got the worst. And I know what it’s like to have an amazing sister that everyone loves, but even with me, it’s not so bad. Because I’m a bloke and Rose is a bird, and if my family wants me to be like her…that would just be bizarre.

If I wanted to be a nerdy Malfoy-loving weirdo, trust me, I’d just Avada myself to avoid the personal humiliation.

But Ilana, on the other hand…well, she’s twins with Zara. And not even identical twins or anything. They’re just sisters born at the same time. So because of this, Ilana gets to spend her whole life feeling inadequate in front of her gorgeous, incredible, amazing sister.

Yeah, so maybe I am in love with my best friend’s twin sister. And yeah, maybe said twin sister does hate my guts, especially now that I’ve got her sister all wonked up on some exotic plant.

But there’s really no denying it. Zara Saxton wants me.

Deep down in there somewhere.

Real bad.

“I’m so bored,” Ilana whined. She picked up the textbook propped in her lap and started hitting herself over the head with it.

I stared at her unsurely. I don’t know whether Ilana is just being herself or if her body’s trying to kill her right now. Is it even possible to kill oneself with a textbook? I think it might be. Those buggers are heavy.

“Stop that,” Zara said irritably, wrenching the book out of Ilana’s hand. Ilana slumped in relief.

“Thanks a bunch for watching me kill myself with a Potions book, Hugo,” she muttered at me. “I see how it is.”

Whoops.

“Sorry,” I told her, “I thought you were just being you.”

“I don’t normally try to dislodge my brain from my skull with a textbook!” Ilana yelled indignantly.

“What kind of idiot are you?” Zara followed up.

This is not fair! I’m being double-teamed! FOUL!

“Look, I’m sorry!” I said loudly, shielding myself with my own potions textbook. This is what I get for hanging out with twins sisters. They gang up on me, I never get to hook up with random girls because they’d probably beat me to a pulp if I tried, I have to be all considerate and nice, and I can’t eat properly because it “disgusts” Zara.

Ilana eats the same way, so she can’t say much.

During mealtimes, she’s my favorite twin.

And during Quidditch.

Because even though Ilana Saxton is crazy, weird, clumsy, socially retarded, and not-as-pretty-as-her-sister, she’s a damn good Chaser. The best I’ve seen in a while, actually. That really says a lot, because I come from a family of really fucking good Quidditch players.

We could seriously make an international team and probably beat everyone else out. It could be like… Weasley United. Or something.

Bloody hell, I’m a genius! We’d get rich off that shit! I’m bringing this up with Dad and Uncle Harry next time we all get together…a family Quidditch team…how didn’t anyone else think of that?

“This sucks,” Ilana said loudly, chucking her textbook at me. I batted it out of the way with my own, and it landed on the floor and fell apart.

“This is all your fault,” Zara hissed, poking me belligerently on the chest after staring at Ilana’s pathetic-looking textbook.

“Hey –” I started indignantly. I mean, come on, it’s Ilana’s fault too. I didn’t stuff the plant down her throat. She willingly ate it.

Ergo, not my fault.

I’m Hermione Weasley’s son for a reason, bitches.

“You know, Hugo Weasley,” Zara continued, poking me again. Look, she’s really sexy when she’s mad and all, but her nails freaking hurt. “I don’t even know why my sister is best friends with you.”

Ouch.

“You’re the reason she’s in here right now, barely alive and still trying to kill herself! One day, you’ll end up actually killing her –”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I joked weakly, “I’d miss her too much.”

Hey, I really would. I’m in love with Zara Saxton, but that doesn’t stop Ilana from being my best friend.

“You are such a dumbshit, Weasley!” Zara yelled, standing up furiously. “Most of the time – no, actually, all of the time – I really hate you!”

She turned around and stormed out of the Hospital Wing, leaving me staring after her openmouthed.

“She’s kind of dramatic,” Ilana noted nonchalantly.

I groaned and dropped my head down on the bed. “I hate my life.”

“Hey, she’ll come around,” Ilana poked the top of my head. “Your hair is turning green. Why can’t my hair turn green? I hate blonde hair. I want green hair like yours –”

“Pompfrey!” I yelled, picking my head up. “Ilana needs her potion again!”

“And you have five tongues! That’s even better than Longbottom. This is so unfair. I want to be cool like you guys –”

“Here,” Pompfrey shoved the potion into my hands. “Make her drink all of it. I need to take care of your cousin, he’s growing antlers.”

Which one?

No, I’m serious. I have a lot.

“Antlers? Is he turning into a reindeer? Oh my god, can I keep him and name him Rudolph? I heard there’s this really awesome reindeer with a magic nose who –”

“Hey Ilana,” I cut across, “if you drink this, you can grow green hair and antlers.”

She wrenched it out of my hand and eagerly gulped it down. Two seconds later, she was out cold on the bed.

I chuckled and looked down at her sleeping form. No matter how mysteriously amazing her sister might be, I can always count on Ilana to be a constant force of weirdness.

Now I just have to wait for her to wake up.

Damn.

--

“Have any twos?”

“Go fish.”

“What about fives?”

“Go fish.”

“Do you have an eight?”

“Yeah. Here.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

We’re the coolest kids in this school, yo. Look at us, partyin’ it up with our Go Fish cards and a pack of Bertie’s Beans. Hot damn, I bet everyone wants to be exactly like us. Because we’re just so fucking awesome.

What am I doing with my life.

“Match is tomorrow,” I said idly, trying to start up a conversation.

Ilana glared at me.

…on second thought, I probably shouldn’t have brought that up.

“Roxy sucks,” I added for her benefit. She rolled her eyes and snorted, reaching over to grab a handful of Bertie Bott’s Beans. She stuffed them all in her mouth, and I winced. Of all the people in this world, Ilana is the only human being I know who not only enjoys this candy, but is also completely impervious to the flavors.

Seriously, I can eat pretty much anything. But if I were to eat Peppermint, Earwax, Vomit, Spaghetti, Grass, Cherry and Fart all in one go, even I’d throw up.

I have mad respect for Ilana Saxton because of this.

“Is my sister still mad at you?” She asked, throwing down her cards to signify the end of this boring game.

I laughed. “When is your sister not mad at me?”

“Touché.”

She thought for a little while. “Do you think I’d be able to hear the commentary from in here?”

“Definitely,” I nodded eagerly. “For sure. I mean, Lorcan’s really loud anyway, and this room isn’t soundproof so you’ll definitely be able –”

“Stop feeling guilty,” Ilana cut across, smiling at me and hitting me on the arm at the same time. This girl’s a walking paradox. “If anything, this is an experience! I’ll be able to grow up and tell the grandchildren all about that one time Grandma ate the – what? Why are you laughing? Hugo!”

She threw the pack of cards at me and they rained all over the floor. This made me laugh even harder – oh god, does this girl even realize how insane she sounds right now? Grandchildren? Doesn’t that require having children first? And getting married? And having a boyfriend? And…you know, attracting a bloke?

Oh Merlin. The prospect of seeing Ilana with children of her own – and any of the steps it takes for her to get there – aren’t just impossible. They’re actually ridiculous.

Ilana shouldn’t be allowed around small kids. It’s just not safe.

Same thing goes with men.  She’d probably accidentally castrate someone with a kitchen knife or something.

I stopped laughing.

Shit.

Note to self: never hang around with best friend in kitchen.

“What’s your problem?” Ilana asked me. “You’re acting mental.”

I’m acting mental. Good one.

“I’m gonna go find your sister and grovel for forgiveness,” I said, getting up and stepping away from her before she suddenly sprouted a knife out of her hand and started attacking my crotch with it. Hey, this is Ilana Saxton. Anything is possible with this girl.

“You’re pathetic,” She called after me as I speedwalked out of the Hospital Wing.

“Love you too, bud!”

“Hugo, I’m still bored!”

“Play Solitaire!”

“WHAT THE HELL IS SOLITAIRE?!”

“Stop yelling in my Hospital Wing, or I will be forced to sedate you, Miss Saxton!”

The last thing I saw before I went out the door was a furious-looking Ilana and a very obscene hand gesture.

I mean I guess my best friend is pretty chill.

--

“You know, you’re kind of pathetic.”

My family is full of shitheads.

“Thanks, Lil,” I said in a mock-cheerful voice. “You know, that really means a lot to me.”

Lily shrugged, flipping her dark red hair behind her shoulder. “I think you’d be way better with Ilana.”

I shuddered. “That’s weird.”

“Your face is weird.”

“Your mum is weird!”

“My mum’s your favorite aunt.”

“…right.”

Damn Lily and her logic.

“Besides,” Lily continued, “I think she’s made it pretty clear to you, but just in case you didn’t get it before, Zara kind of hates you. Either that, or she refuses to not hate you, because lemme tell you, it is simply not normal for one person to have so much hate in their body for someone else, and –”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” I cut across.

Lily pondered for a second. “No, not really.”

Great.

“In short, you’re pretty much buggered,” Lily concluded cheerfully. “You know, unless you go about physically changing yourself to become the kind of bloke that Zara wants to date, which I think is stupid. Someone should love you for who you are –”

“Genius!” I said loudly, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “Lily – you are a genius! Of course that’s what I have to do! Bloody hell, you’re my favorite cousin. Remind me to get you an awesome Christmas Present or something.”

I turned around and started to run back towards the Hospital Wing, but Lily caught my sleeve and dragged me back.

“Didn’t you hear what I said about someone loving you for you, Hugo?” Lily demanded.

I stared at her stonily.

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

“You’re hopeless,” Lily sighed.

“Cool. Bye.”

And I resumed my sprinting once more. Screw groveling at Zara’s feet – I’m going to make her fall for me, once and for all!

Genius.

 

 









AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, hey, heyyyyy :D this is dream_BIG aka saval. as you probably already have figured out, me and lonnie are being awesome and writing a story. we're not quite sure where it's going, exactly, but that's the real fun of it. i write a chapter and she writes back with whatever she wants. it's great fun.

just a couple things to clear up, in case lonnie already hasnt: we alternate between chapters. she writes as Ilana, and I write as Hugo. i'll probably write something on the top indicating that it's hugo just so you guys aren't confused and stuff.

anywayyy, please review :)
 
 


Chapter 3: Meet My New Friends: Revenge, Boredom and Madame Pompfrey
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Chapter Three - Ilana

Ilana Saxton, hazel eyes focused profusely on the easily irritated medi-witch, bravely opened her mouth with an evil glint in her eyes. And as she ridiculously commentates her every movement in third person, it leaves the crowd wondering;

What is she going to do next?

. . .

Pop.

Pomfrey jumped at the loud sound emitting from my mouth, glancing up at me with a startled expression. I didn’t even attempt to hide how amused I was with torturing her. She shook her head with an angry roll of her eyes and went back to her paperwork.

Five minutes later:

Blup.

She jumped again, glaring at me this time and letting out a long breath of frustration through her nose. She sounded like a dog. An old dog. An old dog with hemorrhoids. An old dog with hemorrhoids and a missing leg. An old dog with hemorrhoids and a missing leg and—

You know, I think you get the picture.

Pop. Blup.

“Are you done?” Madame Pomfrey inquired heatedly, standing up from her seat and glaring at me.

Rude.

“Yeah, in a second.”

Pop. Blup. Blup. Pop. Pop. Blub.

With each sound her eyebrow twitched comically and her lips curled more and more. I was silent for a bit, waiting for her to sit back down and get comfortable. I gotta make sure she does her trademark butt rub against her seat, and then I know for sure she’ll be comfortable—Hey look! There she goes.

Pop.

Pomfrey fell back in her chair.

“Okay, I’m done.”

You better watch yourself, son. I’m evil.

The door burst open and in ran Hugo, beaming like a psycho. Just when I thought he was about to save me from my boredom, he began to frantically search the entire Hospital Wing, avoiding the spot where Pomfrey was still sprawled down on the ground, until finally turning to me and asking, “Where’s Zara?”

“Nice to know you care about me, Huges.”

His face scrunched up, “Don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t be an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Whose bright idea was it for me to eat that funky looking plant that I’m still not even sure what it was?”

“What ding dong took it out of my hands and ate it like it was pumpkin pie?” Hugo countered, smirking.

I groaned, “Don’t bring that up.”

“I’m pretty sure you were the one who brought it up.”

“I’m going to do some cruel things to you one of these days,” I warned him, narrowing my eyes. He suddenly looked nervous and he grabbed his crotch area as if he were trying to protect it or something. I gave him a weird look but he didn’t notice ‘cause he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. I decided that I wouldn’t ask.

And people say I’m weird.

I broke the awkward silence, “So I’m guessing that you’re not here to save me from wallowing in my own boredom?”

“No.”

Oh, okay Hugo. There’s no need for you to break it to me gently or anything. Can you believe this goon I have for a best friend?

“Then what do you want?” I scoffed.

“I’m looking for Zara.”

“Why? That’s practically asking for death to come and take you right here and now.”

“You wouldn’t understand love, love.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I glared at him, furious.

“Uhh . . .” He glanced between me and Pomfrey all panicky and whatnot as if he had realized exactly what just said and then exclaimed, “Pomfrey! She’s hallucinating again! Get her her potion. Pronto!”

“What!?” I cried in outrage, “I’m not hallucinating! You’d have multiple eyes and tongues right now if I were—”

“Hurry, Pomfrey!” Hugo cut me off.

Pomfrey scurried over with a potion vial in her hands, giving it to Hugo so that he could force it down my throat. My eyes widened in shock at the action the medi-witch made. I looked into her eyes briefly and noticed a hint of malice there . . . like she wanted revenge on me or something. Hugo, too, seemed a little surprised but he nonetheless put the potion to my lips. I was out almost immediately.

-

The next day, early in the morning, the entire Gryffindor team, clad in their uniforms, erupted through the door of the Hospital Wing, waking me up. All the blokes were waving their arms around like idiots—you’re standing like five feet away from me, you don’t need to do that—and the girls (or in other words, Roxanne and Dominque) smiled at me sheepishly.

“Ilana!” Roxanne squealed like the adorable little third year that she is, “It’s my first match! I’m so excited.” She hopped into the bed with me, oblivious to the groans rippling throughout the room (people weren’t too happy about the thirteen-year-old taking my place). She gave me a toothy smile that made my face soften.

She’s like the sister I’ve always wanted.

Skill-less and dorky.

Which is why I love her so.

She’s like a miniature me, except I’m partially good at Quidditch!

. . . Poor girl.

One of the boys cleared their throat and I looked towards the noise, and there stood Albus Potter, his arms crossed in such a way that screamed ‘I’m on my man period right now.’ His green eyes had turned stony (a feat only manageable when it comes to his precious Quidditch team) and he was glaring at me like his life depended upon it.

Like if he didn’t glare at me as fiercely as possible then he would just drop dead.

When I put it that way, it makes me more skeptical about whether or not he’s really on a period.

“What?” I demanded.

“Why couldn’t have you been stupid on some other day?” He questioned threateningly, glancing between Hugo and myself. Hugo shifted his weight awkwardly and I shrugged. I don’t see what the big deal is. Yeah, I blew my gasket about not being able to play, but we’re already way ahead in the season and it’s Ravenclaw we’re playing.

They ooze strategy but lack everything else.

Although they might want to watch out for Davies, especially when Roxy’s out to get him—I mean, for a third year, he’s good.

When we didn’t answer him he continued, “Besides today Hugo, you aren’t going to see the pitch for a long, long, LONG time.” You know, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen Albus this enraged before . . . he was practically inflamed.

I laughed, pointing at my best friend in amusement, “Ha ha!”

“Shut it, Ilana,” He groaned, smacking me on the shoulder.

“Yeah, because the same goes for you.” Albus informed me.

It was Hugo’s turn to laugh.

I took the same textbook that I had thrown around the Hospital Wing yesterday and chucked it at his head. Perfect shot. I’m not a chaser for nothing, you know.

“What was that for!?” He yelped, rubbing his head indignantly.

I shrugged, “Must be the side effects.”

(It wasn’t).

The door to Pomfrey’s study opened and she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of so many people clustered together in her hospital wing. She tried to ignore the Quidditch team by returning to her persistent potion making, but I could tell that she was uncomfortable with so many people surrounding my bed.

I just thought of the perfect payback for the old wart.

“You guys are gonna come visit me again after the match right?” I asked them, an evil smile spreading itself across my face. I glanced out the window to make sure it was raining, “You know, when you’re all muddy, and sweaty and covered in blood?”

“There’s going to be blood?” Roxanne whispered to her older brother, the beater for our team.

Fred shot me a glare for scaring his little sister, but I shrugged as if it wasn’t my fault that I’m so tactless.

I mean . . . part of having no tact is not realizing that you have no tact, right?

What?

Okay fine, I’m just not good with chitlins like Roxanne. Kids cramp my style.

I mean, I still love her and all but . . .

Can I just stop talking before I get into a sticky situation?

Cool.

“Of course we’ll visit you!” Dom squealed, playing with a strand of my blonde hair. Dom is probably the only girl I know immune to my weirdness. Which is pretty funny to think about considering that she’s a year older than me but acts like she’s twenty-five . . . and I still act like I’m eight.

From the corner of my eye I saw Pomfrey stiffen.

“Awesome.”

“Alright team,” Albus cut in irritably, “The five minutes are up. Let’s get down to breakfast. We need to eat a lot of carbs.”

“You only allowed them five minutes to see me?” I exclaimed, appalled.

“You’re lucky you even got that. Now let’s go.”

“Bye, Illana!” Dom told me, waving cutely, “I’m sorry you won’t be able to play.”

They all began to back out of the Hospital Wing, and as they walked out . . . in walked Zara. Hugo perked up immediately and went to talk to her. Zara put a hand, manicured with lime green nail polish, in his face to silence the words we all knew would come out of his mouth before they could, “Save it, Weasley.” And then she slammed the door in his face.

“A little harsh, sis.” I commented lazily as I leaned back into the pillows now that all the excitement was over with.

“Whatever,” She rolled her eyes, and then smiled, “How are you feeling?”

“Well I’m not loopy if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Of course not!” She replied, sitting down in one of the chairs next to my bed, “Not even close to what I was talking about. You may pretend that you’re chill about not being able to play today, but I know you better than that.” She propped her feet up near my elbow and took out a book from her denim handbag.

“What are you doing?” I inquired, ignoring her accusation completely. I gestured to the book in her hands.

“Well, I figured that if I’m going to stay in here for who knows how long that I might as well have something to do. Let’s face it, you’ll be too wrapped up in the match to want to talk to m—”

“You’re not going to the match!?”

“You didn’t expect me to, did you?” She smiled softly, “We always went together before you made the team, and I always came to cheer you on after that. It just wouldn’t be the same, you know? And I sorta figured that you’d like some company.”

I was kind of stunned.

I mean, yeah, my sister definitely has her gentle moments but she always busts them out at the most of unexpected times.

It’s kind of what I love most about her.

Oh, and her eyes. Physically, it’s the one attribute that we share. I sometimes forget that we’re twins, because we’re so different and everything. So when I see her eyes, my eyes, I’m reminded that she’s actually my sister and that she would do anything for me—and vice versa.

Corny?

Yeah.

But true.

“Thanks, Zara.”

She made a sort of disgusted face, “You’re not going to get all mushy on me, are you?” I rolled my eyes. There’s the normal Zara we all know and love . . . sometimes.

“You got mushy fist, you know.” I pointed out, closing my eyes and leaning even further into the cushions, “Hey, wake me up when you hear Lorcan’s psycho commentary, please.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I opened my eyes for a second to see her wave her hand around the air as if to say ‘quit being weird’ and then closed them again so that I could allow the blackness overtake me. It’s like Pomfrey gave me another one of those wretched potions; within moments, I was out cold.

-

A/N: it's lonnie again!

are you liking it so far? 'cause me and saval are having tons of fun writing this. almost too much fun ;)

anywho, leave a review lovely people!
 


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