A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. Duh.
It's not exactly a new story is it? The cool, tomboy girl, best friends with all the guys...oblivious to her girl-next-door charm, natural beauty, painfully unaware one of her very best guy friends is madly in love with her adorable quirkiness, just waiting for the perfect, romantic moment to sweep the girl off her feet...
That's not my story. Maybe it would be if I wasn't disgustingly vulgar...or if I had tits. Merlin I wish I had tits...
Anyway...I'm Gemma. 5th year. Quidditch enthusiast and...ahem..."backup" Gryffindor keeper. Despite my constant efforts, I haven't managed to kill Oliver Wood. Yet. Thank Merlin the wanker graduates this year. I'm a potions master, transfiguration failure, drinking game enthusiast and sarcastic bitch extraordinaire. George Weasley is my best mate, has been since we met on the train. He knows me better than I know myself. Through thick and thin, he's always been there for me.
And then there's Fred...how do I describe our relationship...
Let me put it this way; the Weasley twins are two halves of the same whole, better when together, two peas in a pod, blah blah blah. They agree on everything.
Everything except me, that is.
I am Gemma Lorraine Fry. George Weasley is my best friend. Fred Weasley wishes I was dead.
Like I said, it all started on the train.
Back then, I was just a scared little girl, weren't we all? My 19 year old sister, Ani, Ravenclaw Quidditch legend and intern to Ludo Bagman, took me to the train station. My mother was working in Greece at the time, diffusing ancient spells and curses over temples to make them safe for visitors, and got caught up in a particularly nasty curse over a temple of Hera. Personally, even at 11, I never really minded my mum not being around much. I knew she loved me, but she loved her work as well. Plus, I got to spend my summers playing in ancient temples. To date, I've been kicked off the Athenian Acropolis 12 separate times. Almost got arrested once, too. But that's a different story.
Anyway...11 years old, sister at the train station, blah blah blah. I skipped the whole, "oh my trunk is so heavy, will some big, strong 3rd year help me lift it onto the train and fall madly in love with my youth and innocence?" game I watched my fellow first year girls play. Maybe they had the right idea. That trunk was bloody heavy. I hugged my sister goodbye, promising to write (which I would), stay out of trouble (which I wouldn't), and make it on to my future house's Quidditch team (well...sort of), and made my way onto the scarlet train, hiding, to the best of my ability, just how terrified I was.
I was absolutely not prepared for what I was about to experience. In my train car alone, there had to be dozens of compartments, fine on its own, but add dozens of students hugging friends they hadn't seen all summer and rushing into compartments, and things get a little more...what's the word I'm looking for, fucking chaos. Yeah, that's it. I, along with my fellow first years all scrambled in different directions, clinging to newly made "friends" from the platform and our belongings. As quickly as the frenzy started, it was gone, and I was alone. Pacing the corridors of the train and psyching myself up to (ew...) talk to people, I tried a compartment. Inside was just one other student, a boy with messy red hair, innocent brown eyes (one of the Weasley twin's more misleading features), and-swoon-freckles. A little known secret about myself, and I swear if you tell anyone, I will sell your shrunken head to a cart of gypsies, but I adore freckles, especially Weasley. The entire line of Weasley men is just a little gorgeous. Especially Bill...oh the things I'd do to Bill...
Right. Train. Compartment. Sorry.
So there was an innocent little Weasley twin, all by his lonesome, flipping through a Quidditch magazine and grinning to himself.
"Er...do you mind if I sit with you?" I stammered.
"It would be an honor, sweetheart."
Those freckles and those big, innocent eyes drew me in. I'd done it! I navigated the train! I'd found a compartment. I was safe.
Yeah, right.
I stashed my trunk and took a seat across from the boy, fidgeting uncomfortably, the boy staring at me intently.
"So...who are you?"
"Quite the charmer you are. I'm George Weasley, and you are?"
"Gemma."
"Do you have a last name, Gemma?"
"Probably..." George grinned at me. Oh be still, my prepubescent heart, those freckles, that smile...Get it together, Gemma.
"So, Gemma Probably, do you like Quidditch?" Ah yes, Quidditch. I'm not much for small talk, but Quidditch, that I can talk about forever.
I opened my mouth, prepared to wow my newfound friend with my knowledge of the greatest sport ever, but when I tried, no words came out. My throat tingled and tightened, my face felt heated and itchy. I kept gasping for air, but to no avail. This was it; I was going to die on the train to Hogwarts. I looked to George, and to my dismay, he was laughing. The crazy fucker was laughing! He was a child murderer, the next You-Know-Who! Why, Merlin? Why was he laughing?
"Fred! I thought we agreed to curse Percy when he came to check in on us!" George said through fits of laughter.
I fell onto the floor of the compartment, and through my fits of CHOKING AND DYING, which seemed to go completely IGNORED, I saw...another George? Another George, perched on the luggage rack. When I died, I was going to haunt the SHIT out of those two.
This was it, I was done for, kaput, gone, I was...vomiting butterflies? I was. They were everywhere, all sorts of colors. Finally, I felt my throat open slightly and began to feel more normal. If you managed to ignore the collection of Lepidoptera currently exiting my body. Taking deeper and deeper breaths between flocks of butterflies, I hoisted myself back onto my seat. George was playfully swatting at the butterflies, oblivious to the death glare I was giving him. The other boy was still on the luggage rack, laughing his STUPID head off.
"What the BLOODY HELL WAS THAT FOR?" I screamed hoarsely, coughing up another batch of butterflies.
"Sorry, Gemma, I had no idea Fred was going to..." I'm not really sure what George was going to say next. I was seething, a wild dog, practically foaming at the mouth. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, though maybe it was all the damn butterflies.
What happened next, I cannot be held accountable for. I was not of sound mind and certainly not of sound body.
In all honesty, I have no idea how I got up onto the luggage rack. And to this day, I claim to have no memory of socking Fred in his left eye, jamming an elbow into his ribs, and pushing him off the luggage rack.
I will however, take full responsibility for ripping open Fred's trunk, pulling out the two stacks of pants, and throwing them out the window of the moving train. That's just brilliant. And I have zero remorse.
"What the BLOODY HELL are you doing?!" Fred shouted, holding his side. George had long fallen out of his seat and was gasping for air.
"That...was bloody...brilliant!"
Apparently, Fred didn't take too kindly to me throwing every pair of pants he owned out the window.
Before I could scramble down, Fred had me by the waist and ripped me down from the luggage rack.
"Fred, leave her alone!" George wheezed, beginning to compose himself.
"Look, you little brat," Fred threw me onto the compartment's bench and sat on me, "you just started a war,"
"Freddy,"
"Shush George, this little brat doesn't know who she messed with."
"You seem to forget YOU HEXED ME FIRST!" I shouted, hiccupping up another butterfly and squirming under Fred.
"Irrelevant...you've made two enemies..."
"Fred I'm not her enemy..."
"TWO ENEMIES here at Hogwarts!" At this point, Fred was standing and gesturing wildly, oblivious to George's massive eyeroll. It would have been quite the dramatic site had the compartment not still been filled with butterflies.
"Well, if you two are about done, I'll just be going." While Fred had been making his valiant speech, I had been gathering my things and creeping towards the door.
"Oh no you don't!" Fred leapt after me, just escaping George's attempts to grab him.
The last thing I saw of Fred was his face hitting the window of the door as I slammed it shut. After that, I took off in a dead sprint, ducking into a compartment and slamming the door behind me.
"Well hello there love." I whipped around, suddenly remembering that, oh yeah, there were other people on this train.
"Hi." I responded breathlessly, taking in the inhabitants of the compartment. Three boys, all who appeared slightly older than me, were slung casually across the benches.
"Running from something?" the first boy asked. He was tall with dark hair, pale skin, and icy grey eyes. His voice was saccharine and menacing, but I wasn't about to run back into the corridor.
"You could say that," I started, eyeing the silver and green Slytherin crest on his robes. Bingo. "I'm Gemma Fry." My family is pureblood. We prefer to stay out of the pureblood game, but our name is respected nonetheless.
"Fry? Good family. I'm Marcus Flint. Welcome to the Hogwarts Express"
A/N: Hope you guys liked the first chapter! Let me know what you think.