It was like a bloodshed war, except it wasn't over but ongoing between two arch enemies. There was never really 'it all started that day' to them because technically all the hate was pretty much inherited like a family trait. But if there were a Judgment Day, it'd be the day one decided to make deflating the other's ego their life priority. And the one being deflated of sparks was I, Scorpius Malfoy. The killer's mug shot, bile triggering.
She was such a pain in my arse maybe even more so to my eyes. Have you seen the girl? Obviously not. An accurate similarity to a Banshee's screech developed in her voice as she aged. Ageing was the key word. Believe it or not, an eleven-year-old scrawny Rose Weasley was easier to tolerate than a troll resembling fifteen-year-old. The troll part was quiet legitimate considering the sizes, both weight and height, not to leave out all the hair. Her dashing looks always seemed to stimulate my gag reflex.
Speaking of the devil. "Julie! Snap out of it."Formerly mentioned devil chuckled to her best friend. Now, I may find Weasley to be repulsive as a Blast Ended Skrewt's pus but Juliet Savory, her I've got my eyes on.
Juliet teasingly pushed Weasley whilst she gave Ramón Garcia the flirt eye which he returned, generously. Completely oblivious to my intense scrutiny, she continued, "What, can't I hit on every guy at Hogwarts." She winked.
"Yes, just not every guy who knows every guy that goes to Hogwarts. That doesn't make sense. Point is, enjoy all you want but know that my parent's skeptical eyes do not leave us until we're clear out of sight." Weasley jerked her head south in the direction of two somber guardians.
Said brunette laughed bitterly, "That's classic. I never pegged them for the stalking type."
"Come one Julie, you know they're just over protective. At least I'm not Hugo. They freakin' have him under surveillance!"
Juliet looked at good old Troll from the corner of her green eyes, "Cause you're not under surveillance."
Weasley sighed, "I unofficially am out of this conversation." She made to look away then continued, "And I'm right, just so you know."
"Aren't you always?" added Juliet, quick enough for a springing Weasley to hear. I took a few moments admiring her smooth wavy locks, unlike Weasley's which were a tethered bash of ginger hay. I've always had a thing for Juliet but since Albus 'claimed' her first my feelings remain tamed.
"Hey mate, remember me. Just to refresh your graveyard stone memory I'm only your best friend. You know him. The one that's been calling you for the past, I don't know…five damn hours." Are devils ever going to leave me today?
I turned around to a much taller Albus and Lily Potter. Almost smirking as I caught Lily smack her forehead with her hand I replied, "I honestly think you get more annoying by the year."
"We'll drink to that." Lily pushed into the conversation putting on her infamous cheery smile.
"Oh no we won't." He said in a brotherly manner, then seeing the look on my face he added, "Well, we may but you sure as hell won't!"
She gave him a sassy smile and a pat on the back, "Whatever floats your boat big brother." She reached up, to give me a hug. Yes, up. He said proudly. I've only grown a couple of inches this summer but I like to think I am now officially much taller than all the girls at Hogwarts well except for Weasley who tends to sport a growth spurt as most men.
"It's good to see you Lils." I smiled down her. Self flattery is so not overrated
"You too Scorp. And try to ease up those shoulders of dearest Albus, would you?" This girl just loves getting her brother pissed, doesn't she?
"No, there will be no smoothing out or making out as the Americans say so to you," he paused to point a shaky finger in my direction as I watched, amused. "She's Lily Luna Potter and to you," he reincarnated his blaming actions "he's that blonde boy."
"If you're implying I give him a massage, simply out of the question, out of your league. Go ask a Scamander."We ignored Al making him leer as he rambled on about betraying best friends and disowning sisters.
"Hey," she slapped my bicep obviously feeling the muscular madness. "I like those guys, they're nice."
"Nice is overrated."
"You keep thinking that and you'll be inapt to girls all your life." She left dismissing me to a hysterical Al.
He quirked one eye open and ceased his insidious rambles, "Good, she's gone."
A scoff escaped my lips as I studied his unbelievable antics.
"Now, how about we accidently run into my future wife and Rose?" There are so many uncountable things wrong with that sentence.
"Do you really think putting Weasley and I in a room before my Prefect meeting is such a great idea? Wouldn't I go in there looking like an idiot if I had boils all over my face like last time?" Vexation boggled me at the prospect of Weasley being a prefect too.
Al gave me a look, one I've never seen before, one I couldn't define. This can't be good.
"She isn't a Prefect, is she?" I regarded each syllable making its way out of my mouth.
"Well…that's a possibility."
"Albus Severus Potter, you tell me right now!"
He took a deep breath, "Before I say this, I need you to sign my life insurance."
"What?" I couldn't help but ask my bewildering best friend.
Rolling his green eyes he said, "You know, for when you kill me. I want my death to benefit my family."
I wanted to say—
"Don't worry Al, that occasion by its own is a benefit." The voice captures my attention; sweet, and melodious with a tiny edge of a rasp. Juliet Savory stood with a hand on her hip and venom in her eyes.
"Ah, there's my sweetie pie!" I just couldn't help but blink once, then twice to make sure he'd really said that.
A strangled choke escaped her lips, "I'll sweetie pie your face if you don't shut up." With that she left, her strawberry scent lingering in the air forcing me to inhale twice for every exhale. Do not be alarmed, I'm merely an innocent sixteen-year old and definitely not an obsessive psychopath.
When Albus was done eyeing her shrinking figure he elbowed me. "Don't blame her, she just can't help herself around me."
I rolled my eyes, Juliet Savory was as precautious of her actions around Al as much as I like Weasley. Speaking of Weasleys, "Hey, Hugo!"
Hugo Weasley was the mature, quiet and terse kind of boy. With his short, logical responses and gentle laughs, so many girls fell for his mystery. And his looks aided. Tall, lean and slightly muscular—I feared for my status. Although he never brewed conversation, it wasn't awkward being around him; even comfortable.
"Hey." He echoed. Up front, I noticed the little differences in him associated with three months worth of startup puberty. According to whispering admirers, he always had a deep voice but now it has an undetectable edge to it. His face formation had become more angular. The peach fuzz forming since the first day I knew him had turned into a ginger mustache, evident only in a certain angle in the sun.
I walked towards him in spite of the embarrassing height difference. There goes my ostentation. "You'd never lie to me, right mate?" Hugo wouldn't to anyone, literally. His sister, Troll, asked him if she looked fat in one of her dresses and he bluntly told her she did. That established two things; my friendship with Hugo and my fits of laughter whenever someone teases Troll about that roll at the end of her stomach.
"Sure." See, terse.
"Is your sister, by any chance, a Prefect." I usually avoided calling her Troll when talking to Hugo. Although he was brusque with her, he doesn't really mean to it's just in his nature. The fact that he punched me in the nose for her is in there somewhere.
Light flashed across his eyes and he didn't bear resemblance to a zombie fresh out of the grave anymore. "Why?" he didn't quiet look at me but directed his question to something behind me.
I turned around and I knew I've got one thing right, it's something. Albus Potter. I bared my gritted teeth at him and turned back to Hugo in my best attempted human form. "I just really need to know, please?"
He gave me a snide, once in a life time, grin and said; "Not sure." Then he strode away, in the vicinity of swooning girls.
"Better sign Hugo's life insurance papers as well." He smirked and took the same path the other betrayer took, entertaining a few girls belonging to The Hugo Club on the way. I'm not joking, there is actually one just like there's a bigger one dedicated to my blonde, gorgeous ego.
"I don't even think that's how life insurance works you idiot." I mumbled to myself like the lunatic I was morphing into.
My blood boiled and my eyes narrowed. Rose Weasley had taken, no, stolen so many things of mine. Starting with my position as teacher's pet when I was an ignorant first year and ending with my Keeper position on our Gryffindor house Quidditch team. If she takes away my only initiative of exoticness, I swear to make her sixth year living hell.
Contrary to popular beliefs, anger and hatred don't drive you, at least not me. Proofs of the prior mentioned statement are the tiny, ridged steps I took to reach the Prefect's cabin. But I don't think that's what whoever sage, presumably dead person meant. But it makes me sound introspective, so why not?
I reached for the ominous door, sliding it from blocking either my sorrowful nightmare or my gleeful delight of a dream. I groaned inwardly at the sight of every female head supporting tons and tons of red, Weasley hair. But I sighed out in relief and triumph when I noticed that all had female bodies as well. None were male-like Rose Weasley's. I'm still not safe, she could come in at any forsaken moment.
BOOM! A bomb goes off somewhere in my head. And as promptly as my skull ruptured, Rose Weasley's face was inches from mine. She snarled at me, exploiting her inner inhumanity.
"My dear eyes are scarred forever." I shoved my hand in her face creating a block between us, the way I like it. "Weasley, please excuse me. My eyes and I need a few moments to rehabilitate." Was all I could say to keep my mourning tears from making a dramatic appearance.
She rolled her eyes the color of mud and dirty ocean water, "Shut up you prissy. You've got issues, you know that?"
"Have you looked in the mirror recently? Well, you'd know that your hair's the one with the issues if you took one short glance at the mirror." The bile was threatening to make a reappearance.
"I don't have time for this. Professor Slughorn wants to see you at his compartment." She said and turned abruptly away.
"Wait, you mean to say that you're not a Prefect?" A slow grin spread across my face.
"Stellar revelation! Well done Sherlock." She drawled.
A new sense of euphoria glided through me, giving me tingling butterflies. As she led the way to Slughorn's compartment, I decided to symbolize my triumph by prodding and thus annoying Weasley. I prodded her both physically and verbally, pestering her with irrelevant, trivial questions and poking the life out of her arm. Just when I thought she'd withstood my annoyance she swiftly turned on her heels and ginned.
"Miss my gorgeousness?" I smirked. That had got to have taken her to the edge. I expected a tirade or even a repartee but what I didn't expect was a slap curtsy of her left hand on my face. I was paralyzed; it hadn't hurt, not even close but the prospect of Weasley's anger reaching an extent to sadistic, physical violence had far from crossed my mind.
There's this feeling that's making my blood boil and my nostrils flare. I took a moment to calm down before saying, "Just can't keep your hands of off me, can you. See, you're no different than any other girl in this school. You all want Scorpius Malfoy but you see, the thing is there's only one maybe even a few bits and pieces. Bottom line is, you are most definitely NOT a receiver of even the dregs of my existence."
"You think you're so great riding on your high horse twenty-four seven, well guess what, you're not. So if you actually believe that every single girl in this school is gaga for you then you are obviously blind. Oh, and have we forgotten Marsha Quell?"
"Who?" I asked, inquisitively.
She laughed like a hyena, "This is gold! Stupid, self-absorbed prick! Do you honestly not know Marsha?" She raised a spiteful eyebrow waiting for an answer. "You're something Malfoy but definitely not someone." With that she left. Was that supposed to make me feel bad? "Oh and Marsha, she's only the married seventh year you tried to snog. It was pretty much rape more than a snog."
She walked away but I was determined to win this fight. "That's one out of what, seven hundred girls? You can keep walking but I think we both know who won this argument."
"It's all about winning to you, isn't it? If it isn't "winning over Julie" it's the Quidditch game and when it's not that it's the first place ranking in our grade and the list never ends. But the ironic thing is, you never really did win any of them and neither are you this argument. Barley any girls in this school like as a supposed human being and I'll prove it Malfoy, just to burst your bubble."
And then I kissed her because she was right. I hadn't won any of these issues but I will this argument even of it means kissing her. I can only imagine the debt slavery my dad will put me through after I finish my allowance on hygienic products.