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Confessions of Adhara Greengrass | Confessions of thickos, stalkers and lesbians

    Deep breaths. Deep breaths. And running - lots of running. Just keep running, just keep running, just keep running... And, wait a second - when did I learn to run?! That's it, a devil's possessed me. I'm sure of it now. First, pushing Albus into the Black Lake, and now - now, I can run? I need to find Eleanor.

    All right, Adhara. Stay calm. Let's just go by the WWED code of conduct. What Would Eleanor Do. Okay - I'm not that possessed. Let's switch to the WWEB. Where Would Eleanor Be. Sweet Merlin, this will require some major thinking. Must remember to breath deeply to avoid lack of oxygen to the head which will cause a headache. Library? Hahaha... Owlery? Eleanor doesn't have an owl, not since poor Lucifer went missing... which was not at all my fault. Sodding owl, I should have known you can't feed animals Weasley Wizard Wheezes... at least, I do now. Quidditch Pitch?

    ... Hmm, that required less thinking than I thought it would.

    And, I was off to the Quidditch Pitch. And, upon reaching my destination I found the Gryffindors flying through the air and, like presumed: Eleanor, crouched under the bleachers looking up to the sky, at her Prince Charming. Lord, if I didn't know Moaning Myrtle I'd say she was the most stalker-ish, creepy being ever. Including me. Because, I can safely say, I have never crouched down on all fours under bleachers to watch my dearly beloved fly around yelling at his fellow teammates. Well, only that one time, Eleanor forced me.

    I walk up to Eleanor and kick her. She jumps and upon realizing it's me and not some weirded-out Gryffindor she visibly relaxes.

    "Oh, Ads, how'd you know where to find me?" she asks, confused. "I didn't tell you where I was going..."

    "Well, I just thought to myself: Where would my stalker best mate be and the Quidditch Pitch sounded like your headquarters."

    Eleanor huffs, "I'm not that predictable."

    I roll my eyes. "Eleanor, if you were anymore bloody predictable, you'd be male."

    The Creeper huffs again. "I am not a man. What'd you want?"

    "I need your help. I'm stuck in a pickle..." I say.

    "No, you're not." She says, bluntly.

    "Yes, I am, I didn't even tell you the story." I say, confused.

    "I don't see you encased in a pickle!" she shouts, quite loudly, I might add.

    "It's a metaphor, you thicko."

    "I'm not thick!"

    "Sure you're not..."

    She throws a quill at me. "Shit, what was that for?" I shout, "Your an abusive friend!"

    "And you've become quite the potty mouth," she says, defensively.

    The Abusive-Creepy-Stalker that I call my best mate begins to collect her things - at a glacial pace, I might add. I tap my foot impatiently and she hoists her book bag over her shoulder. And stops dead. Because, there, behind me is a confused looking James Potter and a Gryffindor Quidditch team whose expressions roughly translated say: "What the hell is wrong with these two Slytherin stalkers?" And behind them, a still dripping wet Albus Potter. Oh, Lord.

    "Why hello, there. Fancy seeing you all here!"

    They just stare back at me. I laugh nervously and look to my right at Eleanor... who is not there... I look quickly to my left to see... that Eleanor is not there! I will kill her. I search around wildly for her, probably looking like a demented, stalker, freak Slytherin, to see her running away... Oh, what a faithful friend! Does she know she looks like a sugar high penguin when she runs? Probably not.

    They are all still staring at me. Sweet Salazar.

    "I, uhm - have... erm." Oh, sweet Jesus, of all the possible circumstances. "I lost an earring!" Brilliant! I am not dumb! I am the Queen at handling awkward situations.

    "But, you're wearing both earrings..." points out James.

    Oh, bloody hell. Just wonderful. I didn't think he would actually look! "It was another one?"

    "Right..." says James, running a hand through his messy hair... that so resembles his brother's. Stupid Potter boys. Come to think of it... I turn to look at Albus... who was still wet! Merlin, did he not know a drying charm? Or... maybe, he did, and he was trying to show off how much of a psycho I was by pushing him into a lake. And stayed wet to prove it. Honestly. His expression was less than pleased.

    Sodding Gryffindors! Why are they all still staring?

    James seemed to sense my discomfort and called the Quidditch team to the changing rooms.

    That left me with... Albus.

    Life really is a bitch sometimes.

    "Adhara - "

    "You're unbelievable!"

    "What?" he asks, confused.

    "Are you just trying to shout out to everyone that that Slytherin psycho pushed you into a lake?!"

    "What?" he asks, running a hand through his wet hair.

    "You couldn't have dried yourself?!" Oh my god, I do sound like a complete psycho.
    “I don't have my wand..."


    "Besides, Adhara, what is wrong with you? You're so random!" shouts Albus, effectively ending my crazy ranting.

    "What?" I ask, confused now.

    "You know," he said, running a hand through his hair (argh! would he stop doing that already?!) and looking towards the ground to avoid eye contact. "You're the most unpredictable girl I have ever met. You're beyond psycho," he says, smiling up at me now.

    "I am not a psycho!" I say, defensively.

    He just smirks in return. "Pushing people into lakes, turning them into peacocks, stalking people under bleachers... you don't think that's just a little weird?"

    "No. You should see Eleanor."

    "Right... well, we never really had a chance to talk about... the thing."

    "What thing?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

    "Uhm..." he says, running a hand through his hair, which was drying sticking up on all ends. "When -"

    "Will you quit that?!"

    He looks surprised at my outburst, "What?"

    "Your hand in the hair thing… running your hand through your hair thing, stop it."

    Okay, now he looked scared. "O-kay."

    "Sorry," I say quietly.

    "It's okay. But, about the thing... you know you liking me and all... I get it's awkward, with Gemma and all..."

    "What? I don't like you... Eleanor's off her rocker."

    "But, you told me as well..."

    Shit, I had forgotten about that. "It was a joke?"

    "Are you sure?"


    "Well, because, I sort of wanted to say something about that..."

    "Well, I don't like you... Albus. Because, I'm a... because, I'm a lesbian."

    Oh, holy fuck.

    I did not just say that.

    He looks quite surprised.

    Oh, Sweet Jesus.


    “Eleanor Eustacia Erwina Ermintrude Nott! Stop right there!” Yes, that really is her full name. What can I say? Her parents must have really liked the letter E.

    Eleanor turns around in horror. “You did not just go there!”

    “Oh, yes, I did. You traitor!”

    “I am not a traitor,” she shouts defensively.

    “Yes, you are!” I shout back.

    “Am not!”

    “Are too!”

    “Am not!”

    “Shut up!”

    She looks quite taken aback.

    A long silence ensues.

    “You’re a bad excuse for a best mate.”

    She opens her mouth in horror. Opening and closing it, no words escaping.

    “You look like a dying fish,” I say.

    “I beg your pardon?”

    “You heard me.”

    “Well, you are a psycho.”

    “Oh, no, you didn’t!”

    We just glared at each other. Eleanor’s face started to twitch.

    “You have huge ears,” she says finally.

    “You have a huge head and it bobbles. You’re like a bobble head.”

    Eleanor’s eyes widen in shock. “Well, you’re really white.”

    “Eleanor, of course I am, I am white.”

    “But, you’re pale.”

    “We live in the United Kingdom! How do expect me to get a tan with it raining everyday? Besides, what are you taking about you pale carrot top?”

    “I am a redhead. What’s your excuse?”

    “I’m blonde. And, you have an annoying fringe.”

    “Yeah? Well, at least I don’t have short legs.”

    “Sorry I’m not a giraffe.”

    “I’m not a giraffe! You’re a… gazelle!”

    “Eleanor… gazelle’s do have long legs.”

    “Whatever you hippopotamus.”

    “Are you calling me fat?!”

    That’s it. I launch myself at Eleanor, pushing her to the ground.

    “You psycho!” she shouts at me.


    And here I find myself running. Again! If I weren't in such a crap situation, I'd be proud of myself.

    Damn stairs, I'm panting like it's a freaking marathon. Wizards should really have P.E. I'm surprised we don't normally die of health problems.

    All right, down one more flight of stairs to get to the dormitory.

    I think I've made a major accomplishment, I haven't tripped once. So, here I am, running with the biggest grin on my face, when I bump into... Oh, my god, Life hates me. Couldn't the higher power have chosen someone else for me to bump into?!

    But, no.

    It just has to be him.

    Stupid Git.

    My dearly beloved.

    Scorpius Malfoy.

    "Oh, Adhara. There you are! Was meaning to talk to you..."

    Lord Jesus, why?

    I just stare blankly at him.

    "All right, Adhara. I know this mustn’t be easy for you..."

    What in Merlin's name is he going on about now?

    "But, I've come to say that I will be your number one supporter through this endeavor."

    Holy Merlin, why don't you just kill me already?

    "I know you'll face much prejudice, but I know you'll be able to get through it."

    Oh, my God, why? And since when did Scorpius get so nice?

    "As your cousin, I should have see the earlier signs of this and tried to help you."

    What earlier signs?!

    Now he's stopped. He's looking at me expectantly.

    "I hate my life."

    "Are you feeling suicidal as well?" asks Scorpius concerned.

    "Never mind." I say, hastily.

    This is a nightmare. I hate my life.

    Things could not possibly get worse.

    And I turn around.

    And, promptly trip over my shoe... and down the staircase.


Author's Note Thanks for reading! Review, please :)

chapter image by Ande @ TDA.

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