CatB: Hey, guys, I'm back! This officially ends my veryyyyyy long fanfic hiatus! (It's been about a year and a half, I believe. D:)
Uhm, so, my thoughts before you read this: I really liked the premise of this story. After having written it out, though, I kind of feel...disappointed. The tense is weird and difficult to write in, and I hate the way it wanders all over the place (the stream of consciousness-ness is probably really hard to follow...). I still love the idea behind it, though, so maybe I'll do some revisions and keep going. Depends on the type of feedback I get.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I merely borrow the characters for fanfiction fun. I am not making any money off of this.
Cedric Diggory is the biggest prat I've met. He's a good sport even when he loses, he never breaks the rules or even gets in trouble, and all the ladies love him. You wouldn't believe the number of conversations I have overheard concerning his muscles, grey eyes, and "sweet disposition." But, you know, I might have been able to forgive him for being such a prat and beating Gryffindor at Quidditch if it weren't for the fact that Angelina Johnson is all caught up in the Cedric-mania, too. Normally she is the most level-headed girl I know when it comes to boys (which isn't saying much, mind you), but even she giggles at any mention of his name and joins in conversations about how soft his hair supposedly is. And, see, if it weren't for Diggory, I might be able to have at least one conversation with her that didn't involve him. Even when I was trying to ask her out, she managed to bring him up…
"Hey, Angelina!" I hollered, motioning for her to take a seat next to me at breakfast one rainy Friday morning.
"Hey, Fred." She smiled and began to pile her plate high with everything in sight. What an appetite that girl has.
"Do you wanna hang out in Hogsmeade with me?" I said casually, grabbing the last piece of toast before she could.
Her smile drooped slightly. "'I'm sorry, Fred, but I've already said I'll go with-"
Not Diggory, not Diggory, not Diggory.
"-just a couple of us girls, you know."
"Come on! Don't you think I'd be fun to have around, for comic relief?" I prayed that she would say yes this time, all the while giving her my best, irresistible puppy-dog face.
"Well, you could come with us," she said doubtfully, "but, I mean, we're going to be talking about girly stuff. Like, Alicia wants to dissect a conversation she had with Cedric, and somehow I really don't think you want to hear all that."
My spirits fell faster than Ron's owl Pig with a heavy package. "You're right, I don't," I muttered, glaring at Diggory's profile across the Hall. Bad idea. She turned to see who I was looking at.
"You know, I hear he has a girlfriend now," she said sadly, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. What a tragedy.
All day, Angelina wondered why I was so angry. As if I was going to tell her how much I resented her beloved Cedric.
As if.
Now, can you blame me for wishing the Basilisk had gotten him back in our fourth year? All he's got going for him is a pretty face, it's not like there's anything great about him, besides his annoying ability to get every girl in this school talking about him nonstop. Don't get me wrong, George and I have our fan base, too, but ours is lacking in size and enthusiasm, a fact we are reminded of everyday when we pass a giggling gaggle of girls all whispering about when they are going to slip Diggory a Love Potion or put him under the dreaded Infatuation Incantation. Funny thing about the Infatuation Incantation: girls don't mind being put under it, but we fellows find the experience absolutely horrific. Anyway, my point is, Cedric Diggory makes it hard for the rest of us. No girl wants to go out with you once he enters the picture. Call me bitter, call me jealous, it's still true.
George doesn't understand why I don't just tell Angelina how I feel about her. It's not that simple. I've known her for years, we practically grew up together. It's gotten to the point where we're such good friends that I don't want to ruin it by trying to be something more, unless I'm absolutely sure she feels the same way. Still, George reckons I should at least tell her that I hate it when she talks about Cedric, but I can't do that either. She would ask too many questions, and, inevitably, my feelings for her would be revealed. Like I said, I'm waiting for some kind of sign that she likes me back before I go screwing up six years of (mostly) solid friendship.
I am, for the most part, honest with Angelina, though. Cedric-related conversations aside, I'm not afraid to tell her when she's being annoying or acting like an idiot. And when I do tell her off, she doesn't get upset with me like most girls would. But then, Angelina Johnson is not most girls. I just wish she could see that.
Angelina drops into the seat next to me at dinner. "How was Hogsmeade?" she asks.
I shrug. "Didn't go."
Her face falls. "Oh. That would explain why we couldn't find you."
"You were looking for me? Why?" I ask. "Missed my charm and delightful sense of humor, did you?"
"Very funny," she says with a roll of her eyes. "No, I just wanted to ask you something."
"Oh?" I say, raising an eyebrow.
"It doesn't matter anymore," she says quickly, looking down. Is she embarrassed about something? It comes as a shock to me because she hardly ever is. "Anyway, why didn't you go to Hogsmeade?"
I don't berate her for the change of subject because I have no interest in interrogating her about her embarrassment. It probably had something to do with Diggory, anyway. She's never told me, but I'm almost positive she has a thing for him. It would explain why she's constantly bringing him up. It suddenly occurs to me that we've never talked about who we like. It's a good thing, really, because I wouldn't want to lie and I certainly wouldn't want to hear her gush about Diggory more than she already does.
Angelina clears her throat. "Fred? Did you hear me?"
Blast. Got lost in my thoughts again. "Oh, George and I were working on some joke shop stuff."
"Yeah? Any luck with that?" she asks.
I shrug again. "Sure. We've fixed one of the problems with the Nosebleed Nougat, we just have to retest it to make sure it's fully functional now."
She groans. "Great, when did you have in mind? 'Cause I don't fancy trying to do my homework with a bunch of first years running around with blood dripping down their faces." She shudders.
I grin widely at her. "Oh, you'll see."
She smacks my arm, hard. "At least give me a heads up, will you? Or would you like my inability to properly complete my Charms homework going on your conscience?"
"I make no promises," I say, scooting away before she can hit me again. Instead of scooting after me, however, she just shakes her head and turns her attention to Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet.
I, meanwhile, have just moved myself right next to George.
"So, I take it she didn't enjoy hearing about the progress we made today?" he asks, indicating Angelina.
"Not at all," I laugh. "But I didn't think she would."
"It's really a shame she's not more supportive, though," George said soberly.
"Nah, she'll come around," I say, waving my hand. "She just doesn't think it's going to work out. It's up to us to prove her wrong."
George nods. "Right."
"While she's off being a successful professional Quidditch player," I continue, "we'll be raking in millions as owners of our very own, very successful joke shop."
"But don't forget to make some time for your kids," George teases.
"I don't think we need to worry about that just yet," I say, wincing. The thought of having children scares me. I think that having children would suck all the fun right out of me, and people need cheering up these days, what with You-Know-Who being back and all. If I ever have kids, I'll probably eat a Skiving Snackbox every day just so I won't have to deal with them. Angelina doesn't want kids either. At least, that's what she's told me. They would just get in the way of her career, she says.
George and I haven't made any concrete decisions concerning the Snackboxes before dinner is over, so we make a pact to continue the discussion after practice.
"The weather looks pretty horrible," I comment loudly. Angelina hears me, just like I wanted her to.
"Yeah, well, we need practice in all weather," she yells back, standing. Alicia and Katie follow suit.
George and I stand as well, and, together with Harry and Ron, head down to the pitch with the three girls.
In the changing room, Angelina tells us there are going to be some spectators in the stands. We all know that by "spectators" she means "Slytherins." She's clearly trying way too hard to be casual about it all, and that's what gives it all away.
Practice is, well, horrible, to say the least. If I were to have a drink of whiskey for every time ickle Ronniekins drops or misses the Quaffle, let's just say I would be a very happy man. At one point, he even manages to hit poor Katie in the face in an attempt to pass it.
I roll my eyes, fly over to Katie, and offer her a small, purple candy. Perfect. Now George and I can test out our antidote for Blood Blisterpods.
Angelina keeps blowing her whistle, making it difficult for us to get any real practicing done. The Slytherins in the stands have now begun chanting at us.
Katie's nosebleed isn't clearing up, even though I told her it would. I reach into my pocket and pull out a bag of the small purple sweets. Uh-oh. It wasn't the antidote, it was an actual Blood Blisterpod. I inform George of this and we both fly quickly over to Katie. By this time, Angelina has blown her whistle and is heading over to her, too.
George and I take Katie to the hospital wing while the rest of the team cleans up and tries to forget about the awful practice. Once we've placed her in the care of Madam Pomfrey, I head back to the common room to work on the Snackboxes. I tell George he can stay with Katie, though, because I know he likes her. He promises he'll come up soon.
In the common room, I find Angelina curled up on an armchair by the fire. I decide to be something of a gentleman and sit on the arm of the chair instead of kicking her off like I normally would.
"That practice was terrible," she mumbles, gazing into the flames as if transfixed.
"Could've been worse," I say bracingly, patting her shoulder a few times.
"Really?" she snaps, turning to me. "How so?"
I choose my reply carefully. "Well, Katie could have eaten a Blood Blisterpod antidote, which is what I thought I gave her, instead of the Blood Blisterpod, and…oh wait, that would have been a good thing. You're right, practice was terrible. We really sucked." I'm hoping that by agreeing with her, she'll change her attitude. She hates it when I agree with her.
She narrows her eyes at me. "Are you trying to tell me that you were trying to test one of your antidotes on Katie?" Her voice is dangerously soft.
"I thought it was a good idea at the time," I say innocently.
"FRED WEASLEY!" she yells, ignoring the stares of everyone in the room. Blimey, that girl's got a set of lungs. "How dare you ruin my practice with your STUPID JOKE STORE MERCHANDISE!"
"C'mon, Angie," I plead, "we weren't doing that well anyway, you've got to admit-"
"Don't call me Angie," she says frostily, getting up from the chair. "And don't even try and apologize. I told you to warn me when you were going to be testing your..." she wrinkles her nose, "…products."
And with that, she walks away.
I debate running after her and telling her I made no such agreement to warn her, but I don't. She'll be over it by tomorrow anyway.
CatB: So, thoughts? How was the tense and the stream of consciousness style? Was it confusing?
PLEASE give me any and all of your honest advice and criticism, I would greatly appreciate it. :)