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Dixie Pruitt







 


I opened the lid to my trunk and laughed at the realization. It was packed to the brim with makeup, Lily’s makeup. As usual, she had run out of room in her own bags and done the annual fallback of shoving the remainder of her things in to mine. I walked through to James’s room and shoved my jeans in to his trunk.

It was all over, tomorrow we go back to Hogwarts. Usually I would be jumping for joy, obviously still upset at the concept of leaving behind Ginny, Harry and the family. We have a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff in three weeks, then Slytherin in four after that. I get to see my friends again, full time, the messing around will commence. We can sneak down to the kitchens, capture first years and have miniature food fights in the great hall. We can use magic. But this time it has all been majorly affected, Evie Lewis.

Usually, I would be fine with it all. I would let it all blow over and allow her to attack me as she wished; then let Dixie and Ellie deal with the repercussions, but this year it was different, she was out for blood, and it was mine.

My sixth year leaving the Potters Christmas celebrations and they have never failed to disappoint. Every year there is a new celebration, or the addition of a new family member. Apparently 6 years ago, the new celebration, was me. There’s always something.

Take the year that Uncle Percy brought Aunt Aubrey for the first time. She was shocked at the childish manner of the group. I personally think that she is a great woman, just a little misunderstood. She is organized and strict, but she always means well, she only wants the best for everybody. When organized by her it’s usually a good day. According to Ginny that Christmas and New Year ended with a drunken George, a hyper toddler Teddy, running around with green and blue hair, Angelina bent over the garden fence in an attempt to control her at-the-time-just-best-friend and Bill sleeping in a pool of Charlie’s vomit. That’s just the basics; there was also the house fire, objects coming alive, the smashed window and the pregnancy that turned out to be Victoire. I guess that year was a pretty good one for Teddy.

I walked down to the kitchen, sat at the counter next to Albus and hung my head in to my hands.

I closed my eyes and sighed in realization that nothing would be easy. Everything in the holidays seemed a breeze to what I would have to endure upon walking the walls of Hogwarts once more. Nate. I didn’t dare bring him up with James, or any one for that matter.

Lily offered that in all the excitement of Christmas, James had forgotten about his dislike for Nathan – he’s like that. But it was obvious, from previous experiences, that one small reminder of the subject and James would loose it. No one had bothered to mention to James that it was a two-way-kiss, but to James it was still the same. He hated Nate, like Nate hated him, nothing would change that. It was all the same.

It seemed weird that James hadn’t called me Wolfy for a while, not since the death of my parents. It felt easier saying it now, easier than before. They weren’t a large part of my life, but I still felt like there was a gaping hole punctured in my chest. Nobody had called me Wolfy, not from The Wotter clan; I don’t think anybody had the heart.

Albus smacked me on the head with a serving spoon. “Charisma.”

“Albus?”

“You haven’t been listening to a word that I have said have you?”

I shrugged and bit my lip. “Not really.”

“Never mind, what’s bothering you?” he kindly asked, jabbing my arm with the same spoon he was using to eat his cereal with.

“Nothing’s wrong Al, I’m just a little tired. Can you repeat your story, this time I promise to listen?”

“Nahh, it wasn’t all that interesting you know.” He shrugged and gave me a loving smile. “You’re sure your ok?”

“I’m amazing.”

“You know that I don’t believe a word that you are saying, but oh well. I’m going to go to bed. Maybe I’ll write a letter to Blaize, see how his holidays have been.” Albus finished, giving me a light hug and striding up the stairs.

Then it hit me.

“Albus you are brilliant!” I exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa and practically jumping over him on the staircase.

I got to Lily’s room, knocked and swung open the door.

“Charisma? what’s up?”

“The ceiling.” I said laughing, while rummaging to look for a quill.

“Oh hardy ha.” Lily answered sarcastically. “What are you looking for anyway?”

“Bombs.”

“There in James room.”

“Really?” I stopped my eternal search for a quill for a moment. Lily nodded. “I’ll remember that, but really Lily, I’m looking for something to write with.”

“What exactly are you going to do with this implement of writing?”

I shut the draw to the desk and turned to her, hands on hips and all, copying her typical ‘Lily pose’.

“That came out slightly dirtier than expected, sorry Chic.” We both broke out in to hysterical laughter. Trust her to turn a normal sentence in to a dirty one. She leaned over to her bedside table and pulled a quill from the draw. Struggling to shut it after wards due to the overload of unpacked clothing.

“I’m going to write a letter to Nate.” I stated simply. Lily pulled back the quill.

“What?” She said shaking her head. “No you’re not. Not after the awkwardness between the two of you.”

“That’s exactly why I’m writing the letter Lillers. To stop it, he has to move on, and so do I, www.moving-on.com.”

“On to my brother.” She whispered, mainly to herself.

“No, away, from your brother.”

“Ok double what!” She flung her hair over her shoulders in surprise, jumping up from the bed. “The two of you would be perfect for each other.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t like me like that, so what ever. It’s just a teenage crush.” I admitted, hoping that it would convince Lily more than I convinced myself. She stomped to the door and stood there, this time it was her turn to hold the pose.

“Fine then, write your stupid letter, to your stupid perverted boyfriend, with my stupid quill, and send it on the stupid owl, to his stupid house, where you two can have stupid make up sex and stupidly marry each other.”

“Huh?”

“I just hope you know what your doing!” She called as she walked away. I really hoped that I did. There was just one question, what was I going to write.

I wanted to stop the awkwardness, so that when we both came back to Hogwarts, everything would be normal. I wished so hard that it would happen.

30 minutes later

Four scraps of parchment were screwed in to a ball and thrown on to the floor.

1 hour later

The is a swimming pool of parchment now. My mind is blank, but I’m on a roll, my letter so far…

Dear Nate

It was dinner time before I had got anything that even resembled a letter, and knowing me, it would have to do.

Dear Nate

Merry Christmas/New Year, it’s a late one.



To be honest, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, and I didn’t want anything to turn out this way.
I am such a plonk (however if you wish to use harsher wording, I shall not object).

Awkwardness is not something that I am used to, and not something that I seem to really like, but who really does? Please can we put this behind us? Just go back to normal? You were the person that I could talk to, tell you everything, and then you just weren’t there. How cliché is that huh? I’m not guilt tripping you, no guilt trips,, but I just wanted to say that I am sorry.

Charisma.


I then realised that, which was the first thing that I had really signed with Charisma (with the exception of my school work). I had to quickly stop myself from writing Wolfy down on to the page. Wolfy would never be used again. That thing that I become isn’t something that should be embraced, not something to joke about. It’s a killer; I am in no way proud of having a nickname that associates me with a killer.

I rolled up the letter and attached it to Hedwig Junior’s leg. Damn I loved that bird.


















James took my hand and walked me to the Hogwarts Express that morning. We squeezed between the crowds of people and hoped over the smaller children. I was wearing trousers, jeans to be precise. I didn’t feel like a dress, I didn’t feel like skipping either. It is a new year, and I am more mature. My usually uncontrollable hair was indeed at its best. My white cuffs popped out from the ends of my blue pullover and bracelets and rings covered my fingers and wrists.

I took to the new me as an improvement. I am to be more independent, to not rely on James as much. I need to get over my school girl crush – because that is all that it is; a school girl’s crush.

I noticed from the corner of my eye, a group of Ravenclaw’s. Lois stood the closest to me, two girls that I recognized as her dorm mates stood to her either side. Dan, only a few steps away was blinking every time his head moved to her direction. He hated it, I could see. Their break up had hit him hard. It was obvious he didn’t expect it. He looked at her how I look at James, like Scorpius looked at Rose. The way that I’m sure Harry would stare at Ginny when she isn’t looking. As if, they are still the children they once were at heart.

James tugged on my sleeved. “Will you get on the train?” He begged, yanking me closer towards the doors. He snapped me from my daydream and pulled me through the crowd.

I looked away from the Ravenclaw’s, no Nate in sight.

The whistle blew, and all at once, there was a psychotic scramble to get on to the train. James used his elbows and pushed through the crowd.

“Charisma, please cheer up.” James asked, placing me up a step on the train. His eyesight was directly in line with mine. A first. “I realize this Christmas wasn’t what you expected, what any of us expected really. But I need you Chic. I can’t do this year if you don’t smile.”

I couldn’t help it. At first I blinked, but then it came. My little grin, the one that seems to make James oh so happy.

“It’s not the Christmas, any of us expected!” he resumed.

I rolled my eyes, smirking. “James, grow up.” I pulled his glasses from his jeans pocket.

Ginny brought him to the Ministry to get his eyes tested. His eye sight had become suddenly incredibly poor. He walked in, James Potter, black haired Quidditch Captain. He walked out, James Potter, ‘four eyes’. Fred hasn’t called him James since that incident. It’s really knocked his self esteem. He was always the one without glasses, Albus has them, and so did his father. He liked being different.

I placed them on his face and pushed them up his nose, flicking the thick black frames. “Very handsome.” James smiled, looking to the floor.

I felt a pair of arms quickly snake around my waist and pulled me from my gaze with him. “Drew!” I cried. “Put me down!”

He winked at me and I laughed. Ignoring the confused look from James, Andrew kept his grip of my waist, lifted me a foot from the floor and carried me down the train.

“Drew, couldn’t you not do this?” I asked scathingly. He flashed me the famous Wood family grin.

The smile stayed on his face as he searched for an apartment. I sighed, knowing that he was not going to release me; neither would he find a compartment of the specifications that he was looking for, aka, free. “Now, if I let you go, where would the fun in that be?”

“I don’t think there is any free carriages.” I offered as he huffed in annoyance.

I raised my eyebrows as his knitted in amusement. His Scottish accent took over as he spoke, “I’m not looking for a free one.”

“Well then what are you looking for?” I pierced my lips together. He placed me on to the floor, finally. I could once again feel the wonders of the ground.

“I am looking fo…” At the moment, he stopped and said ahh, as if he had just spotted a leprechaun with a pot of gold. “That!” He said. “That is what I am looking for.”

He pointed towards a small carriage, one with four young Slytherins sat inside. I blinked. “Errm, Drew?” I questioned. “There are people in that.”

“Oh I know. That’s the carriage we came here in, it’s important to stay consistent. So I’m going to steal it, unless you think that is unsuitable?”

“Drew!” I scolded, a little smile on my face. The cheek! “Of course, I think that’s unsuitable behaviour.” His face fell a little. “But since when has that ever stopped you.”

He joyfully smiled and cried his way through a brief happy dance that vaguely reminded me of James. I held his arms still, worried that someone we knew would come past and we would both be labeled forever as ‘the freaks who dance on trains’. I pointed towards the compartment where the four Slytherins sat, they were third year at most, possibly second. Not too much trouble for the six foot beater.

red took this moment to jog around the corner and join his friend in the ‘ridding of the snakes’ as they called it. My conscience wanted to go with them, stop them from hurting the young children and just allow them to sit where they like. We could find another compartment. But Elle held my arm.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She said with an eye roll as drew pushed open the compartment door. “Just let him have his way.” I blinked. “You can have first choice of seating?” she offered.

“I do like the seat in the middle.”

“Well then.” She laughed. “Problem solved.”

A quick exchange of words could be heard from the nearby carriage and a quick threat of violence. “What d’you want Wood?” A swear or tow later and the four blonde Slytherins came marching from the compartment, looking ready to kill.

Drew followed and leant against the frame of the door as I walked over to the carriage. Fred merely stuck his head out. “You know.” He offered, his dark eyes shining with mischief. “I think those kids need to learn some manners.”

“I agree Weasley.” Kyle said, walking up, having watched the scene from afar with Dixie.

“Right then ladies. Drew.” said Fred, bowing his head a little. “We’ll see you later then.” Kyle gave a mock salute before kissing Elle on the cheek and running after Freddy, who might I say, was already half way down the carriage.

I walked in and sat down in my promised seat and was quickly joined by Drew, who kicked off his shoes and leant his head back on to the seat. I smiled. “Are you going to take your hat off?”

He opened one eye and smirked. “Charisma, love, you’ve known me long enough to know that this hat, never comes off.”

“So that’s what smells?”

“Dixie, you’re such a twat, leave me alone!” He whined, causing Ellie to laugh as she sat down on the opposite seats.

Dixie stuck her tongue out at Drew before sitting crossed legged on the seat. “So where’s James?”

I shrugged. “Drew and I ran off at the whistle, we left him at the doors.” I trailed off as I finished my sentence. It was strange that James hadn’t come too; I had expected him to follow behind the two of us.

Elle and Dixie dove in to conversation about hair and make up, shortly joined by Lily of whom was running away from Zac, he seems to have taken a liking to her once more of the Christmas Holidays. I could see why, she was beautiful. Drew grabbed my legs and placed them over his own. I rested my head on his shoulder, closed my eyes and slept.


















When I opened my eyes the train was in full speed and shooting through the country side. To most it was just a blur, to me it was beautiful. I watched it for a while, my eyes barley open. Drew’s hat had fallen over his face, covering his eyes as if blocking them from the light. James was sat quietly to my left; the only other empty seat in the compartment was across, next to the girls. When he had arrived was a mystery to me. I moved my arms a little and realized that I was covered with a jumper. A rather large jumper. Someone must have tucked me in.

“Merlin James,” Dixie said in a happy tone. “Don’t be like that.” I closed my eyes once more, listening while I attempted to drift off.

“Look at them!” he ordered. “It’s indecent exposure.”

Someone snorted. “It’s called sleeping.” Elle. “They’re just friends James, don’t get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” He answered a little too quickly.

“Really?”

“Yes, Dixie, really.” He said. “I just think that they could have kept themselves to themselves.

Someone smacked his arm. I believe it was Ellie. “Well, from what I hear from Lily, you didn’t have a problem being all pally in bed with Charisma on Christmas morning, Jamey-poo.”

“Oh bugger o-“

He was interrupted by the door being shoved open at such a force, it rattled in its frame. “Hi Lily.” Elle said politely. “Drew! I see you have finally graced the waking world with your presence.”

He moved beside me and pushed his hat back up from his eyes, making the grey beanie sit right on the top of his head once more. “Oh hardy, har.” He mumbled. “Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He said to me, blowing my cover of the amazing sleeping woman.

James stiffened beside me. “How long have you been awake?”

I blinked in confusion. “Only a few seconds.” I lied, giving him the answer I could see that he wanted to hear. I sat up straight and folded the jumper I realized was Drew’s. “Little Miss ‘Slam the Door’ woke me up.”

Lily cheekily smiled at me before launching in to a chat about nail varnish with Dixie; I could see Elle physically dying between the two. “Where are Freddy and Kyle?”

James shrugged. “They went after a group of Slytherins and accidentally blew up one of the back train carriages – our belongings will be arriving at Hogwarts a little later than expected.”

I sniggered and swung my legs back from Drew’s lap so they crossed infront of me. He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m surprised it didn’t wake you up – it shook the train.”

“Yeah,” James said snidely. “It woke up sleeping beauty next to you.” Drew laughed well naturedly; I don’t think it was meant to go down like that though.

Elle jumped up from her seat and squidged herself in between Drew and I. “He only blinked a couple of times and tucked you in with his jumper before pulling his hat over his face and falling back to sleep.”

James huffed. “Yes, yes, he’s a real man.”

I laughed and rubbed his arm. “It’s okay; you’ll have the chance to prove your manliness soon.”

He glared, actually glared. Elle put her hands jokily infront of my eyes to escape his fearsome wrath. He was in a really bad mood. A scarily bad mood. I don’t know where he had gone in between kicking the Slytherins from the compartment to me waking up, but he was sad. Very snippy.

“Drew, Fred and Kyle are in confinement in the Heads Compartment at the front of the train.” James said. Drew nodded, as if this wasn’t news to him. It was news to me. “Go and get them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go and get them.”

Drew rose from the seat with a sour expression. “Aye, Aye Captain.”

“James what on earth is wrong with you?” I asked as Drew had left the room. The girls were sat in silence; I was not used to this side of James. I don’t think they were either.

“Me, nothing. I’m fine, fine and dandy, but I want a Quidditch meeting so Lily go and get Polly.”

His sister could have owned him, taking him out with her wit, but instead she stood up and walked out of the room. She was muttering something about being anywhere but here.

“You’re lucky that you’re the captain of the Quidditch Team and control who’s on it.” I said once it was only James, myself and the girls.

“Why does that matter?” he asked.

“Because if you couldn’t take their spots away, I don’t think any of this team would do anything for you, if you keep on at them like that.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m in charge then isn’t it?”

Drew’s hat was on the seat, it must have fallen as he stood up. I picked it up and threw it at him.

We sat in silence for a while, the only sound being Ellie’s wrapper to her lollypop, it made me giggle at the thought of her trying to open it quietly. Dixie laughed at my giggle and soon Elle joined in. James only looked confused. Fifteen minutes passed before drew returned with the two trouble makers. Their robes were black with soot and grins covered their faces. They were loving it.

Polly ran it a little after. “Sorry I’m late.” She apologized, her voice tinkering a little like bells. “Lily couldn’t find me.” That so translates to, Lily and I were sitting around and talking for as long as possible before I really had to go.

I smiled, knowing the story that hid behind her eyes as she sat down infront of Elle. She began running her fingers through Polly’s hair, plating it as James spoke.

Fred snorted as James mentioned the possibility of injury. “Remember what happened to Charisma?” He said with a smug look on his face. “That was when we played against Ravenclaw, were playing against the ickle puffies and then the snakes. Of course we’re going to get bloody hurt!”

“Thanks for the reminder Fred.” I said, rubbing my arm a little.

James blinked unemotionally. “Yes, thank you Fred. But, you know it seems to me that you aren’t taking the Hufflepuffs seriously.”

“Christ!” he exclaimed. “Sorry, James. I’m taking the Hufflepuffs very seriously. We will just place a little honey hive at their own end of the pitch and then the silly little bees will be attracted to it.” He finished with a maniacal laugh.

“If you have nothing serious to say, please just leave.”

Fred smiled. “Really? Really is that an option? Cause I will happily head back to solitary confinement to get away from this!”

“Sit down!”

“Yes sir.”

A few people sniggered as Fred sat back down on to the floor, he leant back in between my legs and I began twisting little bits of his dark hair.

“Anyway,” Elle said in an attempt to resume the meeting. Hopefully ending it as soon as possible. “We need new tactics.”

“Way for sarcasm Elle.” James added, with a little sarcasm of his own. “What do you mean, new tactics, the ones we have are fine?”

“Our next game is against Slytherin.” I stated.

Kyle patted me on the back gruffly. “And they have memorized our every move.”

“So we need to be ready.”

“Thank you Dixie for that statement of the obvious.” James finished. “You don’t think that I have this covered.”

“Oh lord!”

“No!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Shit.”

We all new that this meant one thing: he had figured out all new moves, and a new training schedule. A very early and painful training schedule!

“No, Sirius is my middle name.” James stated laughing; he would never let that joke go. I wonder if his great-godfather used that joke much.

“Oh hardy ha ha!” Fred said, slapping his younger cousin across the back of his head.

“I know, I’m funny. Anyways, the new training starts at 5am tomorrow morning, I was going to announce it at dinner, but seeing as you brought it up already-“

“I’m not going.” Elle stated simply.

“Excuse me?”

“James, I’m not doing it, its 5am you talking about, the sun isn’t even awake then!” She snorted. “My rule, I don’t get up until the sun does.”

“Well, my rule,” he said mockingly. “Do it or you’re off the team.” Sheesh Ellie, I’m joking. I knew you were a girl, but this is just pushing the mark, do you need to do your hair in the morning or something?”

She leapt from her chair, nearly taking the head of poor little Polly. Elle tackled James to the floor, and is now the reason for the rather large-slap-shaped-bruise on his chest, and the two punches on his arm. Good old Elle and her amazing punching abilities.

And thus here I am standing on the Quidditch pitch, on the day that I died.

A slight exaggeration maybe.

James had us running around the Quidditch pitch for the 12 time. Each of the 12 rounds consisted of 5 laps. I currently lack the brain power to work out the exact number. My amazing mathematical abilities can not figure out the calculation.

Elle had given up being annoyed at James and was out here for 5:05. She had packed up her anger but found the missing flare in the 5th lap around the pitch. It was only within the past few minutes that she has stopped the cuss words flowing from her mouth. What ever happened to sweet little Ellie?

Fred was lying dramatically on the floor, giving the appearance of death. Drew threw a beaters bat at his chest, causing his to squirm and roll on to his side. Polly had pegged it with Elle only moments ago. The only thing my brain could calculate was that James Potter had not run one single lap himself.

“I…will…kill him.” Kyle said through breaths, he was completely exhausted. Only he and I were left running.

“Death...sounds…good to…to…me.” I agreed, in lesser shape than Kyle.

James’s cries of protest could be heard from across the pitch. “SUCK IT UP!” He shouted, as Kyle and myself has slowed down a little.

“That’s it!” Kyle exclaimed, changing direction and running full speed towards James. He rugby tackled him to the floor and then lay there next to a rather disgruntled looking James before crawling away.

Kyle would have done more, but due to his lack of oxygen, lay there instead. I think he did a bloody good job of what he managed to achieve, it was more than I could have done.

I gave up and sat crossed legged on the floor, breathing in and out slowly. I shut my eyes and fell back, lying down on the pitch.

I was shortly joined by James, who lay down next to me on his side and looked in to my eyes.

“Am I being too harsh?” He asked oblivious. My eyes opened wide and I gaped at him, my mouth dropping to my knees.

“Yes…Potter, I believe…that you are.”

“Potter?” he asked offended.

“Yes, that is all I will call you from now on.”

“WHAT? Why?”

I gestured down to my dead-ish posture and then looked back in to his eyes.

Big mistake.

He was so gorgeous, his black hair fell lazily in to his emerald green eyes, his cheeks a little red from shouting. He had an innocent look on his face that just made me want to hug him. So that’s exactly what I did. There’s no way that I’m moving on anytime soon.

I pulled him in to an awkward-lying down hug. He laughed and held me tight. Just the way I like it.

“So am I still Potter?” He asked mischievously.

“Is the Pope a Vicar?”

“No...He’s not.” James answered.

“Oh, well my answers…still yes!” I finished, still a little out of breath. My voice was muffled by his chest as I breathed in his musky sent.

Dear lord, I really am sad.

“Charisma-“ He taunted. “I know that you really want to call me James.”

“I’ll call you what ever I want to call you, I might call you small boy, or big boy-“ He opened his mouth to speak. “And don’t you say dirty, it’s too easy.”

He glared at me and laughed. “Well now what am I supposed to say?”

“How about ‘Hey guys, it’s ok, you can stop working out now, I was waaaaaaaay to harsh and I am a horrible Captain, I shall revoke my duties and now Charisma can take my position as she will be forever nice to you’!”

I looked up with a hopeful expression.

“Yeah, good try.”

“It was wasn’t it?”

He grabbed hold of my practise robes and pulled me towards him, my body dragging in the mud. I squealed like a little girl before he pushed my shoulders, shoving me forcefully towards the ground. In a creepy way – in one that I should be locked away – I rather enjoyed it. My blonde hair had streaks of mud, and my left side was doused in mud. Before I could ask, excuse me, kind sir, but what are you doing? He hitched up one leg, flung himself over my waist and sat down.

I took a moment to consider that James Potter was straddling me on the Quidditch pitch. Once that moment was over, I dipped my fingers in the mud and swiped it across his cheek. He drew a love heart on my top while I smacked a handprint on to his.

“I love hearing you squeal.” He teased. “I haven’t heard it for a while.”

I gave up struggling and lay still on the floor. “Are you alright James?” He looked at me, he was in a daze. “You seem rather strange.”

“Why, what ever do you mean?”

I placed my hand on to the print I hand just made. “Well, you like hearing innocent girls squeal for one thing. That is the act of a paedophile.”

“Call me that if you must.” he insisted. “But I am rather enjoying myself.”

 

 




 

Dixie Pruitt 


 



 



I leant back on to the wooden bleacher, sending my gaze towards the sky. I wore Fred’s Quidditch jumper, partnered with dark skin tight jeans and a pair of high heeled boots. Was it appropriate for 5am Quidditch Practise - probably about as appropriate as it was for me to be at this retched thing? Sitting on the wooden benches, watching the team run around aimlessly wasn’t my activity of choice for this time of the morning. Sleep was, and sleep was something that I am seriously deprived of, of late.

There are people in life who I occasionally would like to hex to Timbuktu. But I won’t, instead I save all of my hatred for specific times.

It could just be a consideration, or it could even run to moments where stupid little fifth year girls think it okay to ruin your friend’s life. However, I am seriously considering using it now ; when the Quidditch Captain, who happens to think that he is God, makes your friends run 100 times up and down the school bleacher, bench thingies, bare foot, because ‘it will strengthen your soles’. I am not upset on my behalf; I am pissed at the fact that I will now be surrounded by constant complaints. My stored hatred for times like these, it’s what keeps me going.

James Potter. Occupation, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, nothing less, nothing more, however, he finds that incredibly hard to accept. Ever school has an obligatory psychotic jackass. At the moment, he’s ours.

The way he spoke to us that day on the train, Merlin. I thought that someone has confiscated his toy-fecking-broom.

Second hour, as the team pushed themselves around yet another lap, the wind attacked my eyes and made them water. I blinked, a tear falling down my face and pushed my long, thin locks from my eyes.

“Pruitt!” I turned to the shout of my name. If it were James, I may have flinched. But it wasn’t.

“Weasley!” I shouted back, with matched enthusiasm.

As the rounds were first being run, the team had suffered, after only two runs; they were hot, bothered and sweaty. It took only one more lap for the lads to loose their shirts. For another 12 laps, I watched Freddy and the boys run in only shorts and shoes. It made my morning.

Fred jumped over the last bench and landed next to me, only an inch apart. He lent back and put his arms behind his head, unintentionally flexing his muscles. His dark hair matched his eyes and his caramel skin stood out in the dark January morning.

“Dix.”

I happily looked to Fred, pushing back the sleeve to the jacket. The red leather and gold lettering on the jacket was something that we had to fight for. It was a partition started by the Quidditch Team, suitable jackets to represent our house spirit. Only the team got them, and just like the movies, the boys gave their jackets to their girls. Fred gave me his old one, the one he grew out of in forth year. Surprisingly, he off handed it to me; as his ‘favourite girl’. It’s unfortunate that he was on a Russell Brand worthy one night mission. He’s still on it.

“You alright there, love?” he asked, his deep tones shuddering through me down to my toes.

I nodded. “Fine thank you, a little tired.”

“Tired?” he scoffed. “Have you seen what the Quidditch Nazi is doing to me?”

Personally, I couldn’t see anything wrong, so I blinked and bit my lip cautiously. “I bet you love it really.”

“Yeah, destroying my mental stability is working like a charm.” Always the charmer. “Don’t mock me,” he added when I laughed. It cut off in to a big smile. I put my feet up on to the bench below me and lent forward, resting my elbows on to my knees. My small white under shirt rode up a little at the back; Fred pulled it down for me. “Bloody, Potter.” He said, glaring at James, who happened to be dragging Kyle across the pitch by his wrists. “He thinks he’s, God … or something.”

“On the account that you have just spent the last 10 minutes yelling at him, I think that he gets the picture.” I said cutely.

I took another glance towards the pitch and saw the tables had turned, Kyle was stood up and tackling James to the floor before punching him once in the face; the bugga deserved it. I let out a snort.

“Oh so lady like,” Fred teased, pulling me back in to his sweaty chest, I couldn’t find the words to complain.

I kicked over the packet of chocolate biscuits on the bench infront of me. “Don’t make fun of me. I believe that I control the Mr. Ellie Harris-I-like-to-kiss-my-girlfriends-lipstick-right-off-her-face, aka, Kyle Sanford that just took down your Quidditch captain.”

“Oh you think that you control him?”

I pulled a stray hair from my lips; it had gotten stuck to my lip gloss. “I know I do. With a single word I can make Ellie treat him like a dog.” Freddy only nodded once, not taking his eyes off of the pitch. “And then I can make him punch you.”

He didn’t take the bait; still he looked at the battleground. “Yeah, I’d like to see that, look down there.” I followed the line of his finger and mentally tuck my tongue out at the schmuck.

“Ok,” I stated. “I am on hundred percent poo-pooing that.”

Fred shoved his hands in to my pockets, his fingers were surprisingly cold. “Despite the fact that your logic and literature are worthy of getting attacked by the resurrection of Shakespeare himself, I have to agree with you.”

“I’m sure that you would protect me from the raging lunatic of literature.” I didn’t add the fact that, I am always right. I didn’t need to hear him dignify it. But it did feel nice to hear.

James had just crawled over to Charisma, tripping over Kyles un-moving body. It appeared that they boy was dead. Shame. “James is such a pathetic suck up,” Fred muttered.

“I think they’re cute.”

Fred answered it with a simple glare, and then he found words. “If I stuck a bow on it, you’d think my arse is cute.”

“I think your arse is cute anyway.” I redeemed with a shrug.

He raised his eyebrows and growled in a sexual fashion. Leaning forward he bit my ear, and, ignoring my ‘protesting’ screams he jumped over my legs and straddled me. His strong legs kept me from moving a great deal, all I could do was squirm as I kicked and rebelled as he tickled me gently.

“SEXUAL BUNNIES!” I flinched at the sound of the English intonation that had reached my ears. Never in my life would I give that Quidditch Nazi the satisfaction of my giving up. I looked in to Fred’s eyes, all brave like, and lent forward, preparing to capture his lips with mine.

Fred had a different idea. Instead, he climbed off, kissed my forehead and headed back down towards the pitch. I pulled out a lolly pop from my pocket and pouted.

Charisma’s attempts at perusing James were become more apparent. In the beginning, they were little pushes in the ‘relationship’ direction, now they are full blown plans. Lily actually has them drawn out and pinned to her wall. I believe the work was designed by Rose-the-family-genius-Weasley, but considering the fact that The She-bitch shares the same dorm, it seemed stupid to do all that work and just make that silly mistake.

I don’t know how Rose manages; I would have attacked that bitch and screamed bloody murder.

If I were in Chic’s position, I would just walk right up there and kiss that sucker on the lips and then face the consequences. But she has no balls. She’s too bloody nice. I met her parents once, before they croaked and kicked the bucket. I realize that could have been phrased better. Fred’s always told me that I’m not one for tact. In one, her parents are dicks. There is no way in hell that those two managed Charisma as their offspring.

I know that, that silly little blonde fairy had secrets. Part of me wanted to pin her down and batter them out of her. But I know that she would tell me when she is ready. Every time I see her little innocent face, I see the resemblance to Bruce Willis – Die Hard addition. Since that night, back in October, when she stumbled in, blood dripping from her forehead. I have made many considerations as to what could be wrong. I actually have a list.

I remember that night well. Until that moment, it had been one of my favourites. Fred and I had been on the Astronomy Tower. It had been a full moon, the clearest in a while, so I went to observe it. I hadn’t been planning to take anyone. But Fred was insistent that he came. ‘You don’t know what can jump out at you on a full moon’ he said, ‘it might shock you’. I had two options,

A) Point out his insane demeanour and claim him as a psychopath.
B) Love him to death and allow him to join me on my nightly antics – it beats making him come.

Let’s face it; it’s Fred. I would have followed that boy to the ends of the Earth if he had asked me. He wanted to ‘escort’ me to the Astronomy Tower. Why the frick would I say no?

Chic was different, more mature since Christmas. She isn’t her usually bouncy self. When I nicked the chocolate biscuits from her trunk, she merely nodded. Usually it would be a glare match to the end. In this case, the end actually stands for when Charisma has had enough and starts giggling like an effing loon.

The reason behind James’s blindness to Chic is a complete mystery to me. Together, they make the perfect pair; she has the brains, he has the wit and balls, they both have the looks and the mischievous streaks. My nieces and nephews are going to be gorgeous. It doesn’t matter whether or not she’s going for Harper, or for Potter. Either way, I’m getting a good looking family member. Nothing like Dexter – silly freak.

I am the youngest of four siblings. It wasn’t until two years ago, when my oldest brother, Josiah, decided to shack up with an effing maid that he made offspring, aka, Dexter. The glasses wearing, whiney, spoilt little assclown that parades around like Hercules. I swear that kid is going to be the death of me.

I looked back up towards the pitch, the green from the grass turning my stomach. The thing looks like a swamp, sue me? It wasn’t until the second that I noticed Charisma smack James’s hands away that I noticed he had shoved her chest area. I seriously wonder if he remembers that she is a girl sometimes. Last year, he told Ellie that she was ‘one of the lads’. That resulted in a night of sobbing and snotty noses. Charisma dealt with that, getting tears all over my jumper was certainly not my deal.

I remember the colours of her throw pillows, they were the same colour as Ellie’s duvet cover; a light pink. It made me want to puke. If you’re going to go for a bold colour, make it red. At least that way when people call you a vivacious tramp, they have an actual reason.

Chic isn’t the small, first year that she once was, with the tight corkscrew curls in her hair or the little bounce in her step. She’s a tall, sophisticated woman, who might just have a small obsession with her best friend. I’m sure that, in time, she will get her bounce back. Until then, we just have to put up with the blonde nerd with the ever-expanding chest size; something I am sure James has noticed.

It’s a shame that he’s dating a devil. After the Christmas antics, I was sure that they would be over - but no. Charisma once again had to do the ‘nice’ thing and make sure Evie was alright, thus, offering her an apology and they ‘forgot’ the whole situation. I am actually sure that it wasn’t intentional. Lewis can twist words…and Charisma is a bit of a sucker.

I leant forward and kicked the biscuits off of the bench; they rolled forward and fell down another three. Two of the top ones fell from the packet and attracted a big black bird. Shoo, I ushered, pushing myself up two benches further away from the beast. I sucked viciously on my lolly, using the taste of strawberries to calm me down. There is something deeply satisfying about watching other people exercise while sucking on sugar and eating junk food.

I always did ponder the reason behind the amount of chocolate Charisma consumed. I know for a fact that she always has a Honeydukes bar beneath her pillow. Fat cow. If she hadn’t chosen this particular moment to look in my direction, I would have dashed my theories about her secret-superman-powers.

She has always had intrudingly good hearing; the ears and eyes of a hawk, she would tease. There’s nothing to worry, I slipped kryptonite in to her toothpaste this morning.

I watched Drew get up from the ground and pull James and Charisma apart; they really were the meaning being the word ‘inseparable’. Drew followed Chic around like a lost puppy. I’m sure that she likes it really. I’d take Drew over Barnabas the Barmy. That lovely fella takes his precious time to pull away from his troll-ballet training to come and visit me in the Common Room. It’s a well known fact that St Barnabas may have a small infatuation with me. Now, if only Fred would show the same amount of appreciation. 








AN; Has realization hit? Does James realize that he actually likes Charisma? Will he chuck Little Miss Party-Princess? I have a little game for you guys – well, it’s not even that fun, so I’m not sure how I can call it that. But … what would you all call Charisma if you could? She wasn’t originally called that, she was written with another name before I went back and changed it before posting, actually there were two names … can you guess what they are? I will reveal in the next chapter’s authors note. XD

What did you all think if Dixie? I’m only asking because this story officially has a sequel! I may have mentioned it in a few reviews, but the sequel is already being written. But it’s not from Charisma’s point of view. It’s all Dixie and Fred, but of course James and Chic will be in it. How could they not be?

So … my torture device? Chapter 20 is called Mistake doesn’t cover it … 



"I always knew she was a bitch," She said with fear. "But I never meant it literally."

The next chapter is written in two halves, but there still in the same chapter … if that makes any sense? It’s actually the one that always makes my heart stop when I read it. Can you wait?

 


 

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