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Confessions of Adhara Greengrass | Confessions of treacle tarts, brothers and parties




“Vera, she punched Siobhan. Like a Muggle. I expect that she will be punished for this display of lunacy,” Aunt Daphne is saying.



Wow, she must be angry, she’s pulling out all her big words.



“I know, Daphne,” says mum, glaring at me. “I’m sure Adhara is very sorry and her actions were in the heat of the moment. I can assure you that she will be punished.”



Bugger. I glare at Siobhan who is sitting on the couch across from me, nursing a broken nose. Stupid bird. She still refuses to drink the Skele-gro. Wuss.


Everyone is seated in the living room while Aunt Daphne complains about how I’m a ‘shame to the Greengrass name.’



I see dad snickering to himself.



Snort. Aunt Daphne doesn’t realize that her statement rhymes.



From the other room, everyone can hear Aunt Irina singing in Arabic and all the men try to stifle their laughter while Aunt Daphne continues her speech. Aunt Irina must have gotten to that second bottle of wine.


Draco’s grandpa Lucius is glaring pointedly at me. I have a sinking suspicion that Scorpius’ grandpa Lucius is a pimp. I mean he has this elaborate cane and he’s always dressed in fur and somehow always more groomed than I am… So I’m convinced he’s either a sensitive and defensive transvestite or that he’s a pimp trying to enter me into his brothel.



Both are quite definite possibilities. Must discuss this with Eleanor.  


Out of the corner of my eye, I see Scorpius poking his head into the room. He’s gesturing wildly at me. Why are all my cousins are so weird?


“I – uh, I have to use the loo,” I say, getting up. Aunt Daphne glares at me in what she thinks is a menacing way, but really, it just makes me want to laugh in her face. I don’t, though, with fear of one of her legendary spazoid outbursts. Really, it’s part of her charm. No wonder Uncle Rawlin seems like he’s about to wet himself everytime she speaks to him. She definitely wears the jodhpurs in their relationship.



I reach Scorpius and he grabs my arm and drags me to the kitchen. “I have a problem,” he announces at the door of the kitchen.


“What now, Goldilocks?” I ask impatiently.


“I though you were through with that nickname!” says Scorpius indignantly. “My hair isn’t even gold!”


“Apparently not,” I say, observing his hair. “And, you’re right, you’ve got more of a white colour. But I thought Goldilocks had a better ring to it than Whitilocks, wouldn’t you agree?”


Scorpius glares at me. Well, not really. It’s more of a wannabe glare in which he narrows his eyes and tries to look menacing. Actually, it’s kind of more of an eye twitch/lip pursing situation he’s got going on.


“What’s the problem?” I ask, edging around him to the door of the kitchen. I’m about to open it when Scorpius pushes me and shouts “No!” dramatically.




Scorpius leans against the door. “I sort of… caused a problem,” he says slowly.


“Will you just get on with it? Or do we need to go to a broom closet this time, too?” I ask exasperatedly.


“Fine,” says Scorpius huffily. “I sort of ruined your mum’s treacle tart platter.”



“Did you try to decorate it yourself?” I ask.


“No. Not exactly,” says Scorpius, pulling at his collar nervously. “Just come look.”


Scorpius pushes open the kitchen door. I follow him inside and he shuts the door quickly. My mum’s treacle tart platter is on the floor, in a pile of custard and pastry. Tasty.


“What did you do?” I ask, wide-eyed.


Scorpius is bouncing from one foot to the other nervously. “Well, I sort of… dropped it.”


“You dropped it?”



“And then I fell on it.”



“Oh, shit.”


Scorpius gasps. “Stop using naughty words.”


“Shut up, Goldilocks. Mum is going to have a nervy b spaz!”



“Well, don’t tell her it was me!” says Scorpius shrilly.


“You idiot. Who am I going to blame, then?” I ask annoyed.


And then Auburn walks into the kitchen. He appears to have washed off his make-up and spots the platter on the floor. “What are you guys doing?”


“I – I… We’re – uh, baking?” stammers Scorpius.


Auburn raises an eyebrow. “And what did you do with mum’s treacle tarts?”


“Listen, Aurelia,” I say annoyed and Auburn wipes the smirk off his face. “Do you want me to call Briony?”


That shuts him up pretty quickly and he practically runs out of the kitchen.



“What are we going to do?” says Scorpius raking a hand through his hair. “You mum’s going to murder me.”


“Don’t be silly,” I snap at him. “She’s going to blame me. And then kill me.”



“It’s not like she even made the treacle tarts,” mutters Scorpius.


“Don’t tell anyone else that,” I warn him.



“We could try a spell?” asks Scorpius.


“Do you have your wand?” I ask.



“Yeah,” he says, pulling it out. He points his wand at the cake. “Reconstructo.” Nothing happens.


“Is that even a spell?” I ask him impatiently.


“It should be,” he replies defensively.



“Try Reparo,” I say.



Scorpius tries the spell and all that’s left of the treacle tarts and cream molds together in one lumpy mess. “That’s disgusting,” comments Scorpius. “No one’s even going to want to eat it.”



“Yeah, well you’re the one that fell on it,” I snap at him.



Scorpius opens his mouth to protest but I interrupt him quickly. “We’ll just say it melted.”



“But treacle tarts don’t melt,” argues Scorpius.


“Well, do you have a better excuse?” I ask. “Come on, I’ve been gone ten minutes, surely they’ll realize it doesn’t take that long to use the loo.”


We walk quickly back to the living room where Aunt Daphne is still talking. My mother is glaring daggers at me as Scorpius and I sit down.


“How about dessert?” says mum, interrupting Aunt Daphne. Everyone nods and begins to make their way back to the dining room.


Crap. Scorpius and I glance fearfully at each other.


Everyone is seated around the table when Scorpius and I enter the dining room. Mum has gone off in the direction of the kitchen and Scorpius and I brace ourselves for the inevitable scream from my mother upon seeing the platter.


A high-pitched scream comes from the kitchen and dad jumps a meter in fright and Scorpius’ grandpa Lucius falls out of his chair.


Mum comes into the dining room holding the platter of what was flavoured treacle tarts and cream. She barely conceals her anger as she smiles tightly. “Something happened to the dessert, but it’s still perfectly fine.” She glares pointedly at me.



I didn’t even do anything! I glare at Scorpius who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.



Everyone smiles politely and accepts a lump of treacle tart, eating it cautiously. No one speaks. I take a small bite and chew, avoiding Scorpius’ eyes. This has got to be the most awkward Christmas party ever. Worse than the year that the Christmas tree fell on Uncle Draco.


Suddenly, Scorpius’ grandpa Lucius starts coughing violently.


Everyone stops eating to look up. Uncle Draco runs over to his side. Lucius’ face is turning a violent shade of green. He drops his (pimp) cane and falls to the floor. Mum is jumping up and down nervously and Scorpius shrieks.



Uncle Draco side-long apparates Lucius to St Mungo’s. Silence fills the room again.



Happy times.





“And this one is just marvelous,” says mum, showing off another one of the dresses she’s picked out for me for the Ministry party tonight. Mum’s idea of ‘marvelous dresses’ translate to three things: lace, frills and fuchsia. Kill me.



The current ‘marvelous dress’ is bright yellow with puffy sleeves, a cinched waist, a giant bow and a full skirt. “Don’t you agree?”



“Yes, mother,” I answer.



Mum brightens. “Well, try it on then!”





Oh Voldemort, she’s completely serious.


Mum hands me the dress and I walk to the adjoining bathroom to try it on. I dress quickly and walk back into the room.


Mum gasps excitedly upon seeing me and claps her hands together. “Adhara, dear, you look simply stunning!”


I look at myself in the mirror. I look like a bloody canary. Honestly.



“Mum, I —”



I’m interrupted by a knock at the door and mum rushes to open it. Scorpius walks into the room. Why is he always here?



“Hi, Auntie Vera—” He stops short upon seeing me. “Adhara… what are you doing?”


“Mum is dressing me,” I answer boredly.


Scorpius looks horrified.


“Doesn’t she look lovely, Scorpius?” asks mum.


Scorpius forces a smile. “Yes, yes. Lovely.”


“All right,” says mum, beaming. “Your dress is settled, now you two can run along while I make breakfast.”


You make breakfast?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.



“Oh, hush now, Adhara,” says mum, flustered. “How is your grandfather, Scorpius?”



“Fine,” answers Scorpius quickly. “He’s all better and he’ll be at the party tonight.”



“Oh, lovely,” says mum awkwardly. “I’ll see you two later.”


Mum walks out of the room and shuts the door. Scorpius turns around to face me. “You can’t wear that.”



“Why not?” I answer sarcastically.



“Because,” says Scorpius seriously. “I can safely say that if you wear that… you’ll end up a spinster for sure.”








“Ohmigosh,” stage-whispers Scorpius frantically. “I think I see her on your left.”


“Stop looking at her!” I hiss at him. “And stop fidgeting so much, you look like you’re going to wet yourself.”


“Okay,” answers Scorpius. He’s about to run a hand through his hair again when he remembers what I’ve said and drops it. He picks up a glass of water and begins to sip it slowly instead.



Scorpius and I are, quite predictably, together by the drinks table at the ministry party. I swear if one more person asks if we’re a couple, I will kill myself. I pull up my dress for about the millionth time that night. Scorpius’ solution to my dress predicament was to put me into Eleanor’s tight, rose-coloured strapless dress.


“What do you think I should say to her?” asks Scorpius.


“Tell her she smells nice,” I answer absentmindedly.


“Okay,” answers Scorpius. “What if she says something mean? Like, that I’m an idiot?”



“You are an idiot,” I reply.


Scorpius huffs. “Why must you always insult my intelligence? I am smart. Mother told me so.”


“I never meant to insult your intelligence, Scorpius. I consider you a highly intellectual person, very advanced for your age. Actually, I might even say wise… but let’s not get carried away there.”


Scorpius smiles happily. “Can you see if she’s looking at me?” he whispers again as if she can here us from across the room.


I spot Rose Weasley out of my peripheral vision. She’s not-so-subtlely glaring daggers at… me? What the bloody hell did I do? Bloody psycho. I turn around to tell Scorpius just that when I see that two girls that I recognize as Ravenclaws, sisters actually, are flirting with Scorpius.



Oh, now I get it. It gets even better… they’re Rose’s cousins – Molly and Lucy. Scorpius is trying to make conversation awkwardly. I look back at Rose to see her still observing the scene. I’m afraid that I’ll burst out laughing at the hilarity of the situation, whereas Rose looks as if she’s about to burst from jealousy. I’m surprised it took me so long to put two and two together. Rose does like Scorpius. She’s just bipolar. Must tell this to Eleanor.


I see Eleanor on the dance floor dancing wildly with James. I think she’ll probably end up knocking him out before he can even put a hand on her waist.


I look over at Scorpius who still looks awkward as hell. I decide to be nice and help him out. “Scorpius, your mum told me that she was looking for you,” I say loudly.



Scorpius looks over at me, relieved. Molly and Lucy both shoot me withering glances. They smile flirtatiously at Scorpius and saunter off.



“Molly and Lucy told me that a lot people from school are meeting in the lobby to leave and go around Muggle London,” says Scorpius. “Do you want to go?”


“Sure,” I answer.



“Oh, there’s Albus,” says Scorpius, waving in Albus’ direction.


Sure enough, Albus is making his way over to us. Bullocks.



“I – I have to use the loo,” I say quickly. I turn around and make my way through the crowd, leaving Scorpius confused at the drinks table.


I push open the door to the loos and step inside. It’s deserted and I walk over to the sinks to assess myself in the mirror. 


I look halfway decent. This stupid dress is so uncomfortable. I hear a stall door open at the back and turn around quickly. Rose comes out of the stall looking a little worse for wear. She walks over to the sink and begins washing off the mascara that has fallen down her cheeks due to her crying.



“The one time I don’t wear waterproof mascara,” she says, trailing off.


Hold up. Is Rose Weasley talking to me? Civilly? I’m still kind of silently staring at her wide-eyed.


“I must look more terrible than I thought judging by your reaction,” she says lightly, wiping her mascara off.



“No, no,” I say hastily. “It’s just…” You’re always a complete bitch to me and until five seconds ago I didn’t know you even spoke nicely to anyone?


Yeah… no.


“I get it,” she answers. She pulls out an eyelash curler and begins to curl her lashes just as Eleanor comes storming in.


            “Scorpius said you were in here!” says Eleanor. She spots Rose curling her lashes and gasps. “Why are you amputating your eye?!”


            “I’m not…” begins Rose. “I’m curling my eyelashes.”


            “Aren’t they already supposed to be curly?” asks Eleanor wide-eyed.



            “Yeah… but,” begins Rose again.


            “Never mind,” I say to Rose, waving a hand at Eleanor.



            “Are you ready?” asks Eleanor. “We’re all going to Muggle London.”



            “Yeah, sure,” I say quickly.



            Eleanor walks to the door and opens it, stepping outside. I’m about to follow her but instead turn around to face Rose. Damn you, conscience.



“Do you wanna come? It’s sounds a little more fun than staying here all night.”



            Rose smiles. “Yeah, sure.”


            “Does this count as a good deed?” whispers Eleanor as we make our way down to the lobby. I hit her upside the head.


            We all walk into the elevator and Rose hits the button for the ground floor.



            “Who else is coming?” asks Rose.



            The elevator reaches the first floor and the door opens to reveal Scorpius and… pretty much all the Weasleys.



            Scorpius’ eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. He loosens his tie anxiously as Rose stands next to him.



“What’s that smell?” blurts Scorpius suddenly. Real smooth, blondie.



“My perfume,” replies Rose, crossing her arms over her chest.



“It smells like wood chips…” begins Scorpius. Oh, sweet Merlin. Rose narrows her blue eyes. “… In a rose garden with… rose petals.”



And whoever said that he didn’t have a marvelous way with words?


Rose walks off towards her cousins. Albus shakes his head at Scorpius. “What did I do?” asks Scorpius.


“Come on you lot,” says James, leading everyone out.



“I say we go to a pub,” says Fred Weasley loudly.



“But we’re underage,” objects Scorpius.



“That’s why we have these,” says James, holding up various cards.



“Really, James?” asks Albus. “Fake IDs?”


“Actually, I’m Angus Ferguson,” says James proudly holding up his fake ID.



“Of all the names to choose from, you go with Angus Ferguson?” asks Fred incredulously.


“Shut up, it has swagger,” replies James.


“What’s ‘swagger’?” asks Scorpius, confused.



“Never you mind, Farley Briggs,” says James, handing Scorpius his fake ID. Scorpius takes the card in bewilderment.



James begins to hand us all our cards. I look down at mine. It reads Bertha Bloome.


Sometimes, there are no words.


“Who’s Esmeralda Fern?” asks Eleanor, staring confusedly at her card.



Oh, this is going to be a long night.



Author's Note I'm so sorry this took so long, I was just having a lot of trouble finding inspiration for this. I'd love to know what you guys think of this. If you liked it or even if you didn't, I'd love your feedback. Thanks for reading and putting up with my incredibly slow updates!


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