The Devilish Daemon
By MissieCeelee
Chapter 3:
Give 'Em Hale
Super duper quick author's note: I would just like to thank and respond to my lovely new reviewers so far! Thank you so much! You can simply read on if you haven't reviewed...oh, and please do! :)
RavenclaWriter: Thanks for suggesting those stories; I'm glad you find mine interesting! I actually think I've already read the veela one (and I probably enjoyed it), but I'll be sure to check them out! Thanks for your review!
RavenIvy: You'll find out in this chapter! Read on to find out, dear! Thanks for reviewing!
RachelGoesRawr: You'll meet his mate here! I'm glad you like it! Thank you!
Also, a huge thanks to the four people who added me to their alerts list! Thanks so much!
Bernadette Hale sat in her inherited mini cooper, eyes closed and a deep sigh finding its way past ernest lips.
"I really don't believe that school is starting now...it's impossible!" was the main thought that ran through her muddled brain. Yet another year of the same, intolerable class with the same, immature guys that won't go for me any which way! Just kill me now, please...
As she barely resisted the urge to bash her brains out, Bernadette pulled out of the driveway cautiously; the pristine community surrounding her seemed almost spiteful with its cheerfulness and well-groomed lawns, oblivious to the turmoil that awaited the girl.
Bedford Hills was a lovely township. It was one of the "richer" areas outside of Boston, Massachusetts, but as they say, "The richer the parents, the dumber the offspring."
Actually, most people didn't say that...it was mainly just Bernadette, but she didoccasionally swap "offspring" with "spawn" or "heirs."
Many things could be said of Bernadette, but she was not repetitive.
Basically, it appeared evident to her that when a child was raised by well-off parents, the likelihood of spoiled brats went up exponentially. It also seemed that about half of said brats attended Northpoint, the same private school as yours truly.
Everyone in Bedford Hills had to have a good amount of money to live there, including the Hale family. And though she'd been dealt the same card as nearly every other kid around her, she'd been raised to appreciate life and be prepared for the future, putting her allowances and money toward useful things like college, and she had enough life skills to be able to hold down a good job.
Whereas nearly all of the pigheaded teens she knew just had to wear all brand name clothing, Bernadette was content to wear the exact same clothes with the exact same quality from lesser known brands. Heck, if she really cared (which she really didn't), it wouldn't be hard to simply glue a logo here or sew a logo there; really, nobody would be able to tell the difference. But, of course, in Bedford Hills, everything was cash-centric, meaning that the "top dogs" were the people who not only looked the richest, but acted the richest.
That said, it didn't come as a great shock that our dear girl was essentially invisible.
Why, that very day, she was dressed in a simple pair of dark, skinny jeans; a long, flowing tank top with faded floral patterns; an old, well-worn pair of blue Toms shoes; and a simple gray sweater to top it all off. No Aeropostale or Hollister sign was in sight, which is just how she preferred it, thank you oh so very much.
The school parking lot seemed to be the exact opposite; the excited, reuniting teens all wore similar ensembles, Bernadette observed with a shake of my head. Each of the guys seemed to be sporting expensive khaki shorts and Aeropostale shirts with hardly any variation from person to person.
The girls looked extremely well groomed with their hair either curled or straightened to perfection and their feminine getups that were all quite revealing. She realized once more that uniforms might be a nice idea as she watched the grisly scene from her car.
She quickly checked her appearance in her mirror; her chocolate brown shoulder length hair was still delightfully bed-headed and carefully messy, just as she preferred. Her blue eyes were rimmed with black liner, and her mascara was holding up quite well. The few freckles that spattered her face were still there, but she'd finally accepted the fact.
With a sigh, she began her ascent into doom. Lost in a mini cooper in a lot full of highly expensive BMW's and possibly some Ferrari's, the girl slowly grabbed her nondescript bag and cracked open the car door.
Thankfully, though it was expected, she was not close enough to the other kids to be smothered by the cloying scent of Hollister perfume and Axe that they all seemed to reek of (she herself preferred wearing a lighter, vanilla scent, thus alienating herself even further).
She was already rather sick of the school, even without having stepped foot in the building.
Oh, what I wouldn't give for a vampire to attend Northpoint-maybe he'd go ballistic and kill off the preps...that I would pay to see.
Speaking of preps, a flurry of activity arose from the prep pod and pulled her from her slightly morbid thoughts as she approached the school. Ah, she certainly recognized the crazed look on the girls' faces as they peered across the pavement, cackling like hyenas.
Ugh, a new guy? Who even cares anymore? They're all carbon copies of each other, anyway...no, thank you...
Quickly, she headed to the office to retrieve her schedule from the frazzled woman behind the desk. After a quick "thank you" that was hardly even noticed, Bernadette moved back into the gray hallway to inspect her list of classes, her shoes scuffing on the linoleum as she went.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of her, and, like the most clichéromance novel ever, she went down. However, what the authors of romance novels fail to discuss is just how painful the situation can be.
Her voice met with another, lower one, simultaneously yelling "OWW!" as they toppled over.
Bernadette laid there for a few moments, trying to catch her breath and rub her now sore shoulder with a groan.
Whoever had crashed into her was now on his feet; a hand came into her line of vision, and she took it.
The boy who'd literally knocked her off her feet helped her up, and she took in his appearance.
He was very tall and had a plethora of freckles across his milky cheekbones. Eyes the color of the bluest ocean observed her back, roving over her face quickly as a slight smile stretched his face. Red hair fell across his forehead, looking a bit disheveled but none too worse for wear.
Wow...he's...wow.
Bernadette realized that she was still gawking at the poor stranger, so she shook her head minutely and smiled back at him, finally realizing that he was saying something.
"-so sorry! I seem to have stepped right into your way!"
His voice was deep and completely American, but it still hinted at an accent of some sort.
"It's totally okay; I'm pretty clumsy, and I was too preoccupied," she apologized.
He shook his head. "No, no, it's my fault. I'm awfully sorry. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Entirely fine! I'm just a little confused; I haven't seen you around here before."
Now, what you must know about Bernadette is that the previous sentence was a total stretch out of her comfort zone; for Bernadette hardly ever talked to boys, being too self conscious and awkward-in her opinion.
However, something about this boy just felt...different. A strange air hung about him, but it wasn't strange in a repulsing sense at all; she actually felt pulled toward this guy...
Anyway, he laughed lightly. "Yes, I'm new. I'm Fred, by the way, Fred Weasley."
"Weasley? That's an interesting last name. I'm Bernadette Hale, but most people call me Detta, and I prefer it."
It could've just been her imagination, but Fred's eyes seemed to widen just a little bit at the mention of her name, but the change in his expression was gone after she blinked.
"It's very nice to meet you, then, Berna-I mean, Detta."
"Likewise, Fred."
Voices pleasantly cheery, Detta and Fred began chatting about their lives in general; she was quite content to find that he was also going into his junior year.
"How many siblings did you say you have, again?" Detta questioned, disbelieving.
He smiled. "Six...I know, pretty crazy, right?"
"It's not too bad, I guess," she said agreeably, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "I'm sure you're used to it by now."
"Mhmm..." he trailed off, his eyes going a bit unfocused.
As they reached their homeroom, their teacher, Mrs. Short, gave them alphabetically assigned seats, much to the chagrin of the newly found friends.
With an over exaggerated bow, Fred grabbed up her hand and placed a sloppy kiss to the back of it. Bernadette blushed with all of her might, and Fred winked.
"Farewell, fair maiden! We shall meet again forthwith!"
A/N: Sooo...I know what you're thinking...
"FRED WEASLEY? WHY IS HE IN A MUGGLE SCHOOL AND WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON? HOW IS BERNADETTE EVEN RELATED TO DRACO AT ALL? WHAAA-?"
To be found out in the next chapter, loves! Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks so much for reading!
Happily,
~MissieCeelee
