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How to Organise Strangers and Create Chaos by TheGoldenKneazle
Chapter 4 : Job 4: Write Down My Funeral Ideas On Louis' Walls
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3

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Amazing chapter image by JaydScarlett at TDA!

Job 4: Write Down Funeral Ideas On Louis’s Walls.

“Blonde Barbie.”



“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

“Carrot-top – OW!”
“You deserved that.”
“Did not… Poophead.”
“Schnell, schnell, kartopfelkorpf.” I paused. “WAIT – c’mere you little shit!”
Hugo was checking us all out of Hôtel Weasley-Granger aka Chez Rose. I was feeling in a very foreign mood, mostly because we were now headed to Louis’s house, and his mother is French.
Which, you see, explains the ‘hôtel’ and ‘chez’ bits. Although I’m not quite sure why I resorted to saying “Quick, quick, potatohead” in German as my reply to Hugo’s register (which Ron created for Hermione.) Hermione wanted to make sure we had all gone, and also to keep Hugo occupied and annoying us instead of her.
The little shit just hates my guts since I got them all with “The Niffler Incident”, which does actually relate to the time Al hovered my communications ball into Hagrid’s hut.
Yes, well, how was I to know that if I hover-threw its shiny stand in the direction of the castle, all the freed nifflers (whose casket had been broken by the ball) would then follow it and find Hugo attempting to speak to Hagrid?
Admittedly, I knew he was there, but he shouldn’t have polished his wand so hard.
Oh, God.
Backtrack, backtrack, Pepper! His wand was shiny because he had used a lot of lubricating oil on it and the nifflers were attracted to it – nope, still sounding awful!
Well, you get the gist. His magic pole was shiny, so they all ran for it, and ended up knocking him over. Poor little Hugo the firstie.
Haha, just kidding; he’s an annoying bastard now, and the last two and a half years completely knock out any pitying feelings I might have had towards him.
He’s made it his project to make me go insane with the annoyance of it all. He swore it so right in front of Al and I.
Note to self: Get Hugo-sensors to warn me whenever he’s around.
“ALRIGHTY,” Al said loudly, “let’s get this show on the road!” Louis strode forwards to attempt to separate Hugo and I, but Rose just pulled out her wand and blasted us apart. Louis then had to drag me back to the fireplace because my knees had gone all wibbly, and waved goodbye to his aunt and uncle before I realised what was happening.
When I realised just how an enclosed a space I was in with someone else, the claustrophobia kicked in, and I started struggling hard with Louis to let me go. I can safely say that I had regained use of my knees by that point, and was desperate to escape this stupid fireplace; so much so that several people probably saw various arms and legs coming out of their fireplaces more than once.
I can just about manage the friggin’ floo system when I’m by myself. When somebody else takes me… well, that becomes a whole different matter.
I was still punching Louis as we fell into his kitchen. Almost immediately, we both fell over, and despite the fact that it was not a great position to be caught in, I was desperate to have the upper hand. He had dragged me into the fireplace, goddamnit! 
I didn’t even notice Vic and Bill sitting bemusedly at the kitchen table – much like the last time I’d been here, in fact, except for the fact that we had slept only until 4 am before Rose started trying to get us up so we could be here by 8. Dear goodness that woman is part-banshee at 5.30, I can tell you.

So now, we were all bright and chirpy lest Angry Morning-Rose re-emerge.
Plus, Al had decided to ask Rose “if she was on her ‘bitch week’” when she was shouting at him to get up. That had really made her explode; turns out she is, thanks to Al. I’m always vaguely aware if Rose is or isn’t, because frankly we live in too close proximity to not know (this is what comes of sharing a bathroom with four other girls all year), but I try to ignore it because it’s not pleasant.
I ended up screaming the same thing at Al, too. He looked unimpressed, and asked if I was on too
I think the stinging hex I sent and the fact I screamed “NO, YOU DIPSHIT” in his ear got the message across.

But as I was saying before Hugo rudely interrupted my thoughts, I didn’t even notice Vic and Bill sitting at the table watching us in silent amusement until Al and Rose tumbled out of the fireplace and Al voiced what was apparently everyone’s thoughts.
“Pepper, if you think that slapping someone while straddling them is kinky, it’s really not.”

Ok, I don’t think Bill was thinking that.
“Fuck you, Al Potter.”
“Hey, there’s no need for – whoa.” Rose had turned around from eating the Coco pops to face us.
I glared at everyone, then back at Louis, and decided to drop the subject. “Where’re our trunks?”
I looked at Al, Al looked at Rose, Rose looked at Al and Louis looked at Rose too. She sighed, and I punched my fist in the air; Rose had just lost the battle against all of us to go fetch them!
Then there was a whoosh of green flames and Rose stepped back from the fireplace, wiping her sooty hands on Louis’s shirt as he stood up after I rolled off him. Al had disappeared (into the fireplace, I assumed), and Rose sat down enthusiastically opposite Bill and spooned Coco Pops into her mouth.
I snorted as I realised what Rose had done. Clever stick.
I sat down to do the same, but Louis just reached for the packet and poured all those delicious, crackly, chocolatey rice puffs into his mouth before I had even touched the yellow cardboard packaging.
“Well,” I huffed, “looks like the case of the Food Inhaler has striked again.”

“It’s your fault for not getting them sooner,” Rose said conversationally.
“I did try!”
“Should’ve tried harder.”
“Hey, you’re speaking to Most Undernourished Kid of the Year here.”
“You’re not any more, fatty.”
“Oi, I’m not fat! It’s you that’s put on weight from all your Nana Molly’s cooking.”
“I eat exactly when and what you do, you leech.”
“You eat more than me.”
“Do not!”
“Do to!”

This was the point at which Louis grabbed Rose’s bowl of Coco Pops, ate half in one gulp, and chucked the bowl at us. Of course, with my luck, it hit me full-on and just the chocolatey milk got Rose.
“Right, THAT’S IT!” we both screamed.
Then Rose’s trunk suddenly flew across the room, hitting the sink opposite the fireplace, and exploded against the wall. Her books and clothes flew everywhere and immediately started soaking up the extreme milk explosion.

Jeez, Al really knew when to make an entrance, didn’t he?
Rose made a noise like an angry bull and charged at Al, knocking him backwards into the fireplace where they disappeared in a whoosh of green flames. Rose’s father stepped out, looking rather dishevelled, and tripping over my suitcase that Al had dropped when he emerged and was knocked backwards. 
“Rose has got a bit of a temper on her today, doesn’t she?” he muttered, dropping Al’s suitcase next to mine. He glanced backwards. “Honestly, they nearly knocked me out of the network as they barrelled past.”
“Yeah. I think it’s the whole early-morning thing,” I said, absentmindedly picking coco pops out of my hair. Ron looked a little surprised at the state of the kitchen, then jumped as he noticed his slightly shell-shocked older brother and bemused niece washing up.

Pepper’s List of Stuff to Do
Find out a way to summon the knight bus off the top of muggle houses
Get down funeral arrangements
Stop matchmaking my friends
Stop telling Rose stuff and never challenge her again
Find out a way to normalise my eyebrows
Find a notepad to write my list of things-to-do in
Wash Coco Pops out of hair

“Ah! Oh hello, Bill. Didn’t see you there… what’s happened here? You know, maybe I don’t want to know.”

I answered anyway. “Louis threw the Coco Pops and Al threw Rose’s trunk.”


…awkward turtle.

The silence didn’t seem to end.

It is possibly getting on to an awkward giraffe by now… oh look, we have officially won the awkward giraffe, and the awkward turtles are having awkward baby turtles as Ron rocks backwards and forwards with his hands in his pockets, I look around, and the Delacour-Weasleys all seem very interested in crockery.

Normally, Victoire, Bill and Louis would all be talking over the tops of each other, but I think everyone’s still adjusting right now. 

Not that this kind of entrance is very unusual, but normally we keep a better care of Fleur’s Pristine White Floor Tiles.

Speak of the devil… where is Fleur? She’s going to do her nut when she sees this. Maybe – 



About half an hour later, we were all standing in a line doing what was effectively detention for Fleur. Al and Rose still hadn’t appeared, and we were all drying Rose’s things with drying spells.

“So, Louis,” Ron said, by way of conversation, “where is your trunk by the way? I didn’t see it at our house…”

Uh-oh. I looked at Louis with wide eyes from between my hair that’s gone everywhere. He gave me a crap-don’t-say-ANYTHING look, and shrugged to everyone else.

“Uh, I might have left it there then… I definitely brought it, later on, after OWLs.”

“Oh… but I summoned all your suitcases. So it can’t have been left there. Maybe you left it here?”

“Yeah, probably… I wasn’t very awake that morning,” Lou joked.

Non, ton suitcase n’est pas ici. So where ‘as it gone?” Fleur's light voice had a steely undercurrent as she said those words, as if she knew exactly what is was he was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear them but was going to force them out of Louis any way she could.

Merlin, that woman scares me.

“Eh… not sure. I mean, how can you expect me to know where my suitcase is? Merlin!”

“Louis Emilie Weasley.” Uh-oh. It’s full name time.

Oui, Maman?”

“Tell me where it is. NOW.”

“You’re not too old to smack, you know!”

“Actually - ”

“Shush, Cherie. Where is your trunk?!”

Louis was visibly straining under the pressure. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and his teeth were gritted. Then his brow cleared.

“Somewhere you will never find it!” he shouted, and then did what any one of us would do in a situation like that; he legged it.

Fleur ran after him, screaming like a banshee and waving her wooden spoon, while Bill strolled briskly after them, leaving me, Victoire and Ron waving our wands over Rose’s assorted possessions.

“So, where is it, Pepper?” Tori asked straight away.

I sniggered. “With some of the members of his fan club, I believe. Al’s was too, but I suppose he had the sense to summon everything as soon as Rose and I were out of earshot.”

Ron laughed. “Was this attack unprovoked?”

“Ronald Bilius, of course it was not! They stole our robes, which are currently squid lunch, on the last day. So we got them back on the train. Oh, and don’t let Hermione search for Hugo’s trunk any time soon,” I added.

Both Ron and Vic rolled their eyes. “Honestly, Pepper Jam, you do ask for it with the Coco Pops if you’re going to pull a stunt like that,” Vic said bemusedly, shaking her head.

Ron just laughed, and looked towards the door before checking his watch. “D’you think I can leave? I’m fifty minutes late for work already.”

“Sure. We’ll hold fort for ya,” I said, and he walked off into the fireplace.

It was down to me and Tori. It’s like some kind of last dryer standing, this is. Who will win?

Well, I have no idea, but I don’t want Sir Alan Sugar or Simon Cowell judging me… and especially not that creep Piers Morgan! Cheryl Cole wouldn’t be too bad though.

Hmm, who would present the documentary of my life? 

Not David Attenborough. He’s ancient. 

And Bill Oddey – he’s that animal guy, isn’t he? The one off all those Spring/Autumnwatch programmes.

Yeah, well, not him. I don’t want to be compared to birds all the time.

Now, how about Ant and Dec? They would be perfect. They are pretty hilarious, and they can improvise absolutely any situation. I also love the whole double-act thing… hahaha.

“Erm, Pepper? I kind of have to go too… is that ok?”

“Not Bill Oddey,” I said randomly. Maybe I really should invest in that brain filter after all.


Tori gave me an odd look. “Ok… well, thanks! See ya!” And she left, leaving me all alone.

Why does this always happen? On the plus side, I totally won the Last Dryer Standing competition. On the minus side, I’ve been left with Rose’s wet possessions all by myself.

You might even want to pull out your violins at this point.

Instead, I had an idea. Screw Rose, this house needed to be livened up a little!


I could officially cross several things off my list now. With everyone gone, I had worked my way through a few things.

Pepper’s List of Stuff to Do
Find out a way to summon the knight bus off the top of muggle houses
X Get down funeral arrangements X
X Stop matchmaking my friends X
Stop telling Rose stuff and never challenge her again
Find out a way to normalise my eyebrows
X Find a notepad to write my list of things-to-do in X
X Wash Coco Pops out of hair X
First, I had washed the coco pops out of my hair under Victoire’s magical shower. That thing is the most amazing self-cleaning implement I have ever been lucky enough to cross paths with. 

Although I’m still worrying about what the hell she used ‘Full-on sex’ mode for. Hopefully something to do with looking a certain way.
I also scrounged around Dom’s old room – she lived in France since last year, playing beater for the Quiberon Quafflepunchers – and found an old notebook I transfigured to look all pretty and shiny for my List, and then charmed to look like the notebook to anyone else who tried to come snooping.
Yes, I realise that this doesn’t count as ‘livening up the house’. Just wait, it’s coming.
I had then changed into a more decent outfit of kaftan (which makes up about 50% of my clothing, these kaftans do) and miniskirt. I stole some sandals from Tori’s room too (she wouldn’t notice. She had heaps) and decided to write down, once and for all, what would happen at my funeral. I didn’t want any differing opinions on that.
So I went into Louis’ room – I know, I’m a saint for not collapsing on the spot or cleaning it with a quick Fiendfyre – and crossed over to the empty wall and a half where the lilac still showed through.
I took out my wand and recited the spell James had taught us under my breath once, before pointing my wand at the wall. “Scriptus Loglamis,” I said.
Then, I carefully angled my wand around each separate letter of the sentences I wrote, trying very hard to be neat and not mess it up. After all, this was my Will.
I am not one for the conventional (legal) way, I know.
After what felt like ten hours – but was more like thirteen minutes – I stepped back to admire my handiwork. I had to admit, it was pretty darn impressive.
On the wall, in what appeared to be black paint daubs, were the words:

I, Pepper Grass, hereby utterly forbid my parents to have anything to do with my funeral. I would like a nice, black, normal funeral with a paintball fight at the end for Al, Rose and Louis. These are the only three people I would like to organise my funeral – but Rose gets highest rights. Play anything but MRTNTA, and nothing my parents like. Also everyone must eat pot noodles.
The last sentence was written in diminishing size, because I’d run out of wall space and had to go pretty small at the end to fit it all in.
Then I turned to the other lilac half-wall and did the same spell again, but made the colour come out as a pretty raspberry shade this time.
It read: From this moment onwards, Pepper Grass will no longer knowingly match-make Rose Weasley, or risk the wrath and any chosen punishment of aforementioned friend.
It should do the trick, right?
This was a little smaller, and didn’t take up too much wall space, so I thoughtfully drew a picture of a butterfly below it as a present for Louis. I was sure that he’d like it because… ok, I have no idea why he’d like it, but the paint dripped and I made it into a lopsided butterfly.

Ah, the art of the spontaneous! It warms the cockles of my heart and… all that crap. What is a cockle anyway? And what’s it doing in my heart?

But now, despite the fact that I was clean, and had been both decorative and productive (normally only one of these two things happens. Hint: it begins with a ‘d’ and is certainly the least useful trait)… everyone had still disappeared.
Rose was still beating the crap out of Al somewhere, Louis and his parents were chasing each other like hell somewhere else, and Ron and Vic had sensibly abandoned the whole matter. Plus me.

So I decided, in a fit of complete stupidity, to decorate the Delacours’ house with my newly-practiced spell. After all, it was just so boring. Tasteful creams, beiges, and pastels smothered the friggin’ thing!

I honestly don’t know why those two particular neurones in my brain ever decided to send a chemical message across their bridging synapse.

Because an hour and a half later, I had decorated the bathroom with pretty blue swirls everywhere, painted stupid slogans over Louis’s sweet wrapper-wallpaper and was halfway through doing the lounge when all five of the abandoners walked in through the front door at once.

You see, this is why I shouldn’t be left alone.


When I heard the door bang, I had expected Rose to be first, like always. I was unpleasantly surprised.

It was Fleur.

Fleur hackin’ Delacour.

Yes, the devil-reincarnate-in-Chanel-who-hates-bright-colours appears to have been the first to see my new artwork.

“Ah, bonj-…” she started to say, then stopped rather suddenly in the doorway speechlessly. She gaped like a drowning goldfish (hahaha), eyes wide as saucers and hand over heart.

I turned around and gave a weak smile, my amazing white paint-splattered dungarees saying it all, along with my very painty face and hair.

Al was next, and he crashed into Fleur because he was checking his muggle cell phone (as if anyone other than us three text him), before he looked over Fleur’s frozen shoulder and whistled.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time, dumbass.”

I didn’t even argue.

“Well, you’ve been beating up Rose. Or something. But I agree…” I looked up at the wall art doubtfully. I had only finished the red stripe on the now-complete rainbow before I realised it wasn’t a great idea. Of course, when I had been decorating their bathroom it had seemed like a good idea the entire time, but it was in the living room that I’d first had a doubt.

I ignored it, unwisely.

Louis and Rose were in next, him covered in saltwater and dragging a weepy Rose by the wrist, looking murderous.

Note to self: no more Barbie jokes today.

I jumped seeing Rose like that – I have only seen her like that about twice in her life. I didn’t want to again, either. But something was therefore very, very wrong… because even when everyone else about her lost their heads, Rose kept hers.

I mean, when she took a bludger to the ribs, cracking nearly all of them, she wheezed so hard, and her eyes were watering so badly, but she insisted on staying playing the rest of the quidditch match (Poppy Pomfrey had met her match). And even though every time she saved a goal she screamed in pain, Rose carried on.

I felt blindsided.

Louis only swore at me and angrily commented that “You have matching eyebrows and hair, dipshit,” before he ran upstairs.


Bill Weasley was last. He didn’t even bother saying anything to me, just sighed, and moved his wife carefully out of the doorway before going over to the paint and doing some sort of complicated spell to make it all melt away.

Then he gave me a really sorrowful look and gently pulled a still-in-shock Fleur into the kitchen.

I felt horrible. Really, really guilty.

It was only meant to be a happy wall-paint that everyone laughed at! How was I to know that they’d all come in absolutely boiling mad? Actually, it made sense really, but I hadn’t known.

Al came up and hugged me from behind in a really friendly way.

“Don’t worry, Jammy. I know you feel horrible – and you were in the wrong – but it’s not your fault you can’t tell what’s a good idea and what’s not.”

I suppose I had to agree with him there, and nodded morosely. We sat down gently on the camel-coloured sofa and he grinned as he wiped his now-painty hands on my very painty overalls.

“So, wanna hear about how mine and Rose’s match went and the verdict on Louis’ suitcase?

Yes please!

Pepper’s List of Stuff to Do
Find out a way to summon the knight bus off the top of muggle houses
Stop telling Rose stuff and never challenge her again
Find out a way to normalise my eyebrows
X Write my funeral ideas down on Louis’s wall X
Wash paint off all of me

A/N: Howdy! So I hope y’all liked this chapter ok! It’s a bit topsy-turvy, very random and extremely Pepper-filled. Next chapter, prepare for more of the same, with a few spanners in the works… including rogue Weasleys, old prophesying crones and chanting circles. Oh, and you find out what the giant incident was that happened when Pepper was all paint-y.

Confused yet? Well, it’s called “Job 5: Find the Fates and Challenge them on my Destiny of ‘Death Before 17’”. Have fun working that one out ;)

Ciao, ~TGK

P.S. We go to Pepper’s house. Again. Prepare for insanity.*

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