A/N: I know this one is much longer, but I hope you manage to read through it without nodding off. A few things happen, and I'm not even sure I like what I wrote, but I spent too much time just to start over. It explains quite a bit though, so I hope it's not too boring... Read and Review!
Chapter 3: Where in the bloody hell would I be without them?
Bright light streamed in through the window when I woke. Alicia rolled over to face me and laughed.
"Had a good rest, I take it?" she inquired, yawning.
"Urgh," I groaned in reply, tucking the blanket over my head. It's the weekend; why can't I just sleep? I'm not a morning person.
"Up, you lazy girl, get up!" shouted Angie, pushing me off the bed. I hit the floor with a thump, dragging my pillow with me.
"Fine, fine," I mumbled, staggering to my feet. I changed into fresh clothes and began my morning routine: hair combed and straightened, teeth cleaned, face washed, make-up applied. I looked in the mirror and what stared back was a blemish-less face with blue-gray eyes rimmed in black. Not exactly pretty, but not hideous either.
Alicia and Angelina had already made their way down to the Great Hall, so I left Gryffindor Tower alone.
"Sterling, just sterling," I muttered to myself, cynicism dripping from my voice. Walking the halls of Hogwarts alone was never a fun trip. I tread into one of the many corridors and watched my feet as I walked, listening to the echoing tap on the floorboards. Suddenly, I was jerked from my calm trance and pinned to the wall.
"Aye-up, there," smirked Chaz Preston, the resident 5th year perv of Slytherin. I struggled to push him away.
"Back off, arse!" I cried, pushing him away. He only pressed his body closer to mine. It's not that I was someone chaps normally go after; I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which, by the way, is my specialty.
His lips were now pressed to my neck and his hands were working their way up my shirt.
"Shod off, bloody creep!" I shouted again, hoping this time someone else would hear. And of course somebody did, it just happened to be the last person I wanted help from.
"Oi, get off her!" bellowed Wood, his deep voice echoing off the walls, "you heard her!" Preston jumped off and pulled out his wand, backing away. I regained my composure and glared at the kid, my hands forming fists at my side. Wood, though, scared him off first.
"If I ever see you hurting her, or anyone else in this school, you won't live to see Dumbledore expel you!" he yelled, his wand poking threateningly at the bloke and Preston shuddered and ran in the opposite direction, heading for the Slytherin dungeons.
"Thank you," I said, looking up at him. I'm fairly tall for a girl, and he still stood a good 11 or 12 centimeters taller than me. Blimey. "But I still hate you."
"Likewise, Caine," he spat, "but you're welcome." We headed toward the Great Hall, keeping our distance all the while.
"Oi, where've you been?" George asked when I sat down between he and his brother.
"Aye, you look like you've had a run with Peeves or something," Fred told me. I shook my head.
"No, but Chaz Preston managed to stop me in the corridor," I said shakily, "you don't need to hear all the details, and I don't particularly want to relive the moment." Fred patted me caringly on the back and I laid my head on his shoulder. Angelina looked sympathetic.
"Ah, I'm sor-" she started, but Alicia cut her off.
"Wait – he's the perv chap from Slytherin! Oh, Ana, that's bloody awful," she interceded. Angelina looked to her to be sure she was done.
"As I was about to say, either you cleaned up or he didn't get to you too bad," she avowed, though it came out as more of a question. I sighed. They have a right to know, I guess, but I really didn't want to have to explain the worst part of the whole ordeal – accepting help from Oliver Wood.
"It was Wood. He scared the arse off the bofoon and threatened him," I stated plainly. George choked on his food.
"He stood up for you? And you let him help?" he asked, a little shocked. I nodded.
"What else was I supposed to do? Let the perv…you know...?"
"He helped you?" Alicia examined, looking a little dejected. "Why?"
"Well, was he supposed to let him hurt her?" Angie asked her.
"Oh, Leesh, we still hate each other. I established that years ago, it's never going to change," I assured her. She sighed.
Fred dropped his arm around my waist and I grabbed a tart without moving my head from his shoulder. Angie, Alicia and George had all noted our position but knew better than to ask if there was something up. We were much too gallus friends to even consider dating. I aggravatedly shoved my tart into my mouth whole, and Angelina raised her eyebrows.
"Peckish?" she asked sardonically. Fred laughed.
"It appears so," he countered, shifting. "I think I forgot something back in the common room," he said with a speculative look on his face. "Oh, aye…" he mumbled quietly to himself and got up from the table. I shifted over onto George's shoulder.
"What was that about?" Alicia questioned.
"Something," George stated bluntly. It was a little mysterious, but we girls knew exactly what was going on.
"Prank," we muttered simultaneously. He shot us shifty eyes.
"You're despicable," he grumbled back.
"And you're predictable!" we cried back. He snorted, but wrapped his arm around me.
"You don't hate us," I murmured, hugging him, "You just wish you could. But, you can't, so, just so we're clear: we love you, too." He grunted again, but smiled a few seconds later. They were a group, almost a clique, but not as exclusive. Nonetheless, the five of them would be best mates for as long as…well, forever.
Angelina and Alicia were sitting on Angie's bed, finishing the six inches of parchment on the summoning charm. For some strange reason I have no answer for, I was done. It's not that I'm a procrastinator; I just usually don't finish my homework early. It was assigned on Monday and they waited until now, a day later, to complete it.
The Gryffindor Quidditch tryout schedule was posted on the notice board to take gaff in two weeks. Angie and Alicia knew better than to say anything about it with me around. I can't stand the sport, even though my father happens to be a famous chaser for the Montrose Magpies. I looked down at the tattoo on my arm and sighed. It was a long story…
My mum met my father when they were in school; she a pureblood Slytherin and he a pureblood Ravenclaw here at Hogwarts. They fell in love…but maybe went a little overboard, because out I popped when they were both sixteen. It didn't matter much, though – Mum dropped out and my father stayed completely loyal to her, except for one other love – Quidditch.
My pater was obsessed with Quidditch – so much that my mum sometimes wondered whether he truly loved her. He got accepted onto the team when he graduated and they eventually married and lived rather happily for many years.
In time, the adorable little girl with Quidditch literally in her blood (the tattoo) grew up. I was ten years old when my mum decided she was done with my pater. He was 27 and still playing strong, and she was 27 and ready to give up. So she left. And expected me to leave with her. I knew for a fact my father loved me, and wanted nothing to do with the mother that was beginning to be more and more off her rocker…
So she committed suicide. Which confirmed my suspicions of her being a headcase - it's not that she was a mad, but who gives up their life because they're not chuffed about it? Definitely not normal people.
Which brings me here, the half-orphaned child living at boarding school. It's the dog's bollocks…not. I actually don't mind Hogwarts; it's the 'half-orphaned' part I'm not so keen on.
"I'll be down in the common room," I mumbled. Thinking about all this made me a little gloomy and I wanted to go find Fred or George.
"Alrigh' then," Angelina called distractedly as I headed out of the room and down the steps. I spotted Fred fumbling with some stuff on the couch and I sunk into the cushion next to him, trying to stop the burning in my eyes. I hardly ever cried, but I still got the feeling behind my eyes, and that was almost just as bad.
"Oi, alright pretty lass?" he asked, sensing my troubled feelings. I nodded, but he knew me too well to guess I was fine, but decided not to say anything. I can't stand it when people blab on and on when I'm upset. I'm more comforted by presence alone and my friends know that all too well.
"My bloody parents," I mumbled, informing him a little. He placed an arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer, knowing this was a touchy subject.
"It'll be alrigh', mate," he muttered, setting down the object he had been arsing about with. I leaned in and sighed. We must've sat for a while, because Alicia and Angie showed up and looked concerned.
"Aye, well keep your pecker up," Alicia said when I filled her in, pulling me up from the sofa. I nodded at them.
"I'm fine, thanks mate," I said, stretching. I needed a kip. Angelina gave Fred a hug and followed Alicia and I back up the stairs to our room. I do have the occasional bout of sadness from thinking of my parents, but hey – what are great friends for, if not cheering you up when you're down? I smiled and got ready for bed.