Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created it all... *wipes away tears of sadness and jealousy*
~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~
With a wave of my hand I knocked the enchanted paper bird pecking at my forehead out of the air, sending a self-satisfied smirk to Nashira, who looked sad that her creation had been destroyed so easily.
"Don't mess with my homework. I swear, sometimes you have as short an attention span as Fred." She looked properly aghast at my (slightly exaggerated) comment. It is funny how quickly Nashira and I have become friends. It has been only two weeks since our unplanned late-night potions projects forced us to actually talk to one another, but in that time she has somehow wormed her way into my life, much to the displeasure of James and Fred. Perhaps if they actually ever came to the library, I would not have always been studying alone, and thus not have turned to Nashira for a study partner (she practically lives in the library too!) However, they have continuously neglected to visit me, and now I have someone else who I can drag into studying and who cab help keep me focused (well, not today, but most of the time).
I glanced up at Nashira, who was currently trying to transfigure several ripped up pieces of parchment, presumably into a miniature army to avenge her smashed bird. Her motives were so transparent. Luckily, her skills at transfiguration still remained marginal at best, despite my best attempts to help her over these past few weeks. At the crumbled pieces of paper's insistence on remaining crumpled pieces of paper, she exasperatedly pushed her dark hair out of her face. Nashira was very pretty in an aristocratic way, complete with the high cheekbones, straight noise, and death stare (well, that does not help so much with the pretty part). She had wavy deep brown hair, turquoise eyes, and skin pale enough to rival a vampire's. Probably because of her looks, until you got to know her, she gives off an air of stiffness and superiority, and one could definitely tell that she came from a long line of purebloods.
With mutual reluctance between both parties, I have been slowly been introducing Nashira to my family. I think most of my cousins believe Nashira is a transient part in one of my phases (specifically the I-am-going-to-abandon-my-wonderful-family-and-loyal-friends-to-spend-time-with-the-conniving-snake one. Dramatic, I know). Their reactions to our newfound friendship have varied from apathetic (Hugo), confused (Lily), and downright horrorstricken (guess who?). Dom gave her a skeptical look and muttered something about Slytherins being good kissers (much to both Nashira's and James's disbelief. This is the first time they agreed on something).
Being the mature, upperclassmen and role models, the Marauders have decided to show their joy at our friendship that transcends the house barriers between Badgers and Snakes by single mindedly striving to improve their own rapport with the Slytherin house through the one form of communication they are fluent in: pranking. Every Slytherin, even the first years, has been promoted from "a mere whiny annoyance" to "public enemy No. 1." Nashira cheerfully told me that the Slytherins have been taking advantage of this, and are now happily provoking the Marauders (sneakily, of course). I would feel worse if the Marauders were not acting with the maturity of moping monkeys.
I think James and been taking our friendship the hardest. He cannot seem to comprehend the possibility that Nashira is not rotten with evil. I might be more inclined to listen to him if he would stop behaving like an ignored three year old. Over the past two weeks that Nashira and I have been meeting in the library, he has developed a strange obsession with cleaning spells, and always seems to be lurking in the spell maintenance book aisle, which conveniently offers a clear view of our table and a perfect position to spy. I do not believe I have ever seen him spend so much time in the library (or so interested in hygiene).
He is here today again. When Nashira first settled down at the table, she sent him a cheeky wave, seemingly unperturbed by his scowl, or the fact that her hair turned neon orange seconds later. She probably would still be proudly wearing her "proof of battle" if I had not gotten fed up with seeing neon orange in the corner of my eye every other second, and transfigured it back for her. It was creepy. She looked like a Weasley.
"Roooxie. We have been studying for hours. Let's go to lunch." Nashira groaned. "My mind is about to explode from stuffing in irrelevant transfiguration information."
"That 'irrelevant transfiguration information' is the subject of our huge test next Wednesday." Nashira stared at me blankly.
"So we have four more days to study. Besides, it doesn't really matter if I fail. I am never going to go into a career that needs transfiguration, and I only took it this year because my father made me. So let's go to lunch!"
I let out a short laugh and started packing up my things. One thing I learned about Nashira is that she can be bloody stubborn.
I dragged Nashira to the Hufflepuff table, not quite ready for a repeat of yesterday's lunch. We sat with the Slytherins, and while I met Lianne, Nashira's friend, it was rather intimidating. The people were a lot more introverted than the Hufflepuffs, although it is entirely possible they just did not want to open up to the person who was pretty much the root cause to the Marauders' pranking proliferation. Whatever the reason, I had not quite built up my inner mental wall.
Nashira started to speak to Samantha about quidditch (of course) while simultaneously stuffing her plate. Apparently she had quidditch practice this afternoon, and was not looking forward to being reunited with the captain. She made a face at the Slytherin table. Eventually the conversation turned to the Halloween feast Wednesday, and even Kelly piped in, much to my surprise. Our conversation was interrupted by Matthew Davies from Ravenclaw, my charms partner. He cleared his throat, looking a bit awkward as everyone's eyes turned to him.
"Hey Roxie, do you think I could borrow your notes from yesterday?" I looked at him curiously.
"What happened to yours? You spent long enough on them." They were pages long. It made me feel like a huge under-achiever. I sent him a half smile.
"Oh. I lost them." That surprised me. Matthew Davies was absurdly organized.
I riffled around in my bag, triumphantly pulling out my notes, wincing when I realized they were slightly wrinkled.
"Here you go!"
"Thanks." Insert awkward pause (made worse by Nashira winking at me from the other side of the table). Matthew fiddled with my notes absentmindedly.
"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to…" Dear Merlin. He is going to ask me out. I glanced, panicked, at my friends. Sam gave me an encouraging little wave of her hand, Kelly watched with interest as a scene from her romance books came to life, and Nashira appeared oblivious to my distress, staring off into the distance. "You see, I wanted to know if you would accom-"
"Roxs! My dear, darling sister." Ah. So that is what she was watching. It figures they would interrupt at the most awkward moment possible. That was probably their intention actually. I could feel the heat slink up my spine as I turned my eyes to where Fred, James, and a reluctant looking Frank were standing. Fred gave me a little smirk.
We noticed that you have attracted quite the crowd." Fred pointedly eyed Nashira and Matthew. "We decided to join the party." James slide into a seat, looking disgusted when he realized he was sitting across from Nashira. Frank also stole a sit. Fred remained behind me, and started playing with my hair. I jerked my head away.
"Anyway, Davies, what were you saying? We did not mean to interrupt." I willed my eyes to look as apologetic as possible as the attention turned back to Matthew. He straightened, and seemed to regain some of his normal composure.
"Never mind. I should probably head back." He gestured towards the Ravenclaw table. "Schultz wanted me to look over some quidditch plays before practice tonight. We need all the practice we can get if we are going to beat you again." He directed this at the boys, and shot them a joking smile that did a terrible job of masking the little jab. James' jaw tightened. Ravenclaw narrowly beat them last year, and it was still a sore spot.
"I assure you we will put up a good fight." James' voice was brisk and chilly. "Don't count on your victory quite yet." He shot his own version of Matthew's fake smile. Matthew nodded.
"Thanks again for the notes Roxanne. I will see you in charms Monday." As he departed, Fred made shooing hand motions. I ducked my head in embarrassment.
"Git." Fred's comment caused Nashira to snort.
"Yeah, he was the only one acting like a prat." Fred glared at Nashira and Sam rolled her eyes.
"What are you doing here, snake?" Nashira did not designate him with a reply, but turned back to her soup.
James tore his eyes away from Matthew's back.
"I cannot believe he actually thinks he will beat us this year." He practically snarled. "If he actually thinks Ravenclaw has a chance at the Quidditch cup, He's been confounded. We will win this year again." Sam raised her eyebrows in silent defiance against Hufflepuff's chances.
"Not likely Potter. The cup belongs to Slytherin." Nashira interrupted with a slow drawl. James opened his mouth, but before he could speak and instigate a long, drawn out fight with detailed arguments we have all heard a million times explaining precisely why Gryffindor would win, Frank interrupted.
"Stop it, all of you." I sent him a grateful look, trying to block out the fact that he had just witnessed Matthew asking me out. Looking directly at me, he continued speaking.
"What are you going to do about Davies, though? I assume you realized he was asking you out." His forehead was scrunched up slightly, I winced slightly at the reminder.
"Er. I duuno. I will have to think about it." My broken English made me die a little inside due to my awkwardness.
"She's not allowed to date! Especially someone I do not approve of." Fred chimed in, and I glared at him.
"Unfortunately it is not up to you." Stupid overprotectiveness…. "If I want to date him, I will date him."
"Honestly, though. I agree with Fred. Davies is a bit of a git. You deserve better." I stared at Frank incredulously. I could put up with James' and Fred's irrationality, but I expected him to act somewhat sane. Before, I would have thought he was acting jealous or something, but I have long since squashed down that hope after he tried to set me up with one of his other dormmates.
"I repeat. If I want to date him, I will date him." Truthfully, I did not want to date him. I have noticed in charms class that he has an annoying habit where he needs to be the best in everything he does. But I hated it whenever someone told me what to do. With one last glare at Frank, I turned back to my lunch, and spoke to Nashira, knowing it would irritate them more.
Lunch continued in relative "peace" (with me ignoring my brother and his friends, and them making jabs at Nashira) until dessert, when the owls came swooping down with their owner's letters. Two owls descended towards our table. One was Nimbus, my paranoid tawny owl (who sent a sharp nip at Nashira as a way of introduction, much to James' pleasure), and the other was a large, brown barred owl, who gracefully dropped a rolled up piece of parchment onto the table before Nashira.
I opened my letter, unsurprised that it came from my mum.
Roxie,
I hope everything is well with you, and that classes are going well. Things here have been the usual pre-Halloween chaos, with your father once again doing his best to destroy the house. He has been feeding all the relatives' owls treats that that turn them different colors at random moments. Nearly gave Uncle Percy a heartattack Predictably, he has been spending extra time in the shops, trying to sort through the autumn rush. He sends his love, and asks you to remind Fred and James to owl him if they need any supplies for Halloween. Do not let them do anything that will get them expelled. Aunt Ginny heard from Lily that you have been spending time with a new friend from Slytherin, and that James and Fred are not happy about it. I think it is wonderful that you are trying to reach out. She also mentioned that her father was involved with Voldemort, so even though I encourage you to be friends, please be cautious as well. Don't let Fred and James boss you around though, and tell Fred to owl more. We have barely heard from him this year, and if we do, it is hurried letters that usually have a prank request attached.
We all send our love,
Mum
I grinned at my dad's antics, and peeked at Nashira, who was skimming through her letter, unconsciously scrunching her forehead, and distractedly making mini soup waves, waterfalls, and splashes as she toyed with her spoon. I paused. Nashira did not really like to talk about her family. I assumed it was because her dad was a death eater and my family is renowned for their fighting against Voldemort. The whole my-dad-tried-to-kill-your-dad thing is always a hinder in good conversation. I figured it would come up when we were better friends, but now it was still awkward to casually chat about over lunch. But I was curious. James did not seem to grasp the normal etiquette rules, and, after looking up when she opened the letter and noticing her tense expression, he preceded to bluntly vomit out his thoughts.
"Who is the letter from? Some new Death Eater friend?" James could not stop a thread of curiosity from weaving through his expression. No emotions flickered across Nashira's face as she casually folded the letter in her hand, deliberately so James could not see. A small smirk graced her features for an instant, but it did not escape the attention of James. He narrowed his eyes.
"It is 'from whom.'" Nashira's response caused James to blink.
"Excuse me?" She sighed.
"You said 'who is the letter from.' It is supposed to be 'from whom is the letter.' It is simple grammar. And the answer to your question is 'none of your concern.'" James' irritation was palpable, but went largely unnoticed by the rest of the table, who had long since returned to their own conversations once they realized Nashira and James were bickering again.
They have been acting like this all week. James would take on the façade of a stubborn, brainless nitwit, and Nashira would subtly provoke him. It as irritating, and I tried to avoid situations where they were brought together. At first, I think Nashira only believed the Marauders to immature and oblivious, but since they have been jabbing at sore spots, her opinion of them has been rapidly worsening. The Marauders are like that (well, less so Frank). They either leave the impression of funny and charismatic people (which they are) or idiotic, insensitive ones (which they can be, but it is not the reigning personality). Nashira had not known them long enough to get past the prat exterior, and they were doing nothing to aid the introduction of their better selves.
The following squabble was short and one-sided, and I did not react to what was happening until after Nashira was clutching her hand, where she had claws instead of fingernails, and James was triumphantly holding the letter in his grasp. My dad had taught him and Fred that hex last summer. I sputtered for a second.
"James! Stop it! Give it back to her." He ignored me, unfolded the letter, and immediately jumped to the bottom.
"Who is Simon?" His words spurred Nashira into action. A second later, her wand was out and pointed straight at his throat. The people around us quieted down, and several heads began turning at other tables. Nashira's and James' eyes locked. I kept on glancing between them and towards the teachers, unsure of what to do. Thankfully, none of the staff had noticed yet. After a tense moment, James mockingly raised his hands into a placating motion, dropping the letter on the table. Nashira lowered her wand, swiped it off the table, and left with a swish of her robes.
Six pairs of eyes stared after her.
"What just happened?" Sam was looking questioningly at James and me.
"James was just being his typical git self." James looked a bit hurt.
"Roxie, it is for the best if you stay away from her. Who knows what she is really wants."
"Considering I have actually spent time with her away from prats who purposely pry into her business and judge her, I think I would know better than you 'what she is after.' Stop judging her just because her family was involved in something years ago, before she was even born."
"This isn't about some little scandal! Her father was a Death Eater. She has probably been learning dark magic since birth."
"Yeah, because the ministry would really allow that. You know Death Eater families were kept under surveillance."
"They were. Not anymore. You do not know what they are up to now. For all you know, they may want revenge, and having Alden get close to you is just the first step in their twisted manipulation. I know it sounds harsh, but I have been in the spotlight a lot more than you, and some people just lack the basic amounts of decency. She will betray you."
"You do not know that! Because you do not know her at all! Stop judging her because of her father. You hate it when people compare you to your dad, stop being hypocritical." James laughed bitterly.
"It's different."
"No, it is really not. You should at least try to get to know her before you start condemning her. She would not become involved with any of that stuff."
"Really? Are you sure? Than what was that?" James waved his hands in the air, vaguely gesturing to where Nashira had disappeared. "She completely blew up just because I looked at some stupid letter. Do not tell me that that did not seem suspicious at all."
"That does not mean she is up to dark magic, only that she does not like it when people who have done nothing but attack her try to shove their noses into her business."
"Doubtful. You will see. One day you will see that I was right." With that dramatic and ominous line, James swept out the same door Nashira left, leaving gaping mouths to fanfare his exit.
Fred cleared his throat. "We do not want you to get mad at us. We just do not want you to see you hurt. You are more likely to have your sympathies and emotions taken advantage of."
"Because I am a Hufflepuff?"
"Well, yeah."
"And the brave, valiant Gryffindors would never be duped."
"You know that is not what we are saying."
"I just want to you guys to try and be nice to her, before you decided she is the spawn of the devil." Fred shrugged. The rest of the meal carried on in silence.
~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~
~~~~~~~~~~Nashira Point of View~~~~~~~~~~~
After storming out of the Great Hall and changing my hand back to normal, I went down to the quidditch pitch. I still had an hour before practice started, and I wanted to fly for a bit to release my pent up anger. As I kicked off into the air, I immediately felt better. The feeling of suffocating vanished, and I felt like I could breathe again. Flying is my favorite thing about quidditch, and one of the reasons I think I would have enjoyed being a seeker more than being a keeper. When playing keeper, I am confined to one part of the pitch, where as seeker, I could have spent most of the game soaring above the rest of the players, and feeling as light and free as the wind. Unfortunately for my inner poet, Scorpius Malfoy is a way better seeker than I am, and my talents lay in keeping.
I zoomed around the pitch several times, letting the wind whip my hair and tug it from its hair tie. Soon all other sounds faded, and I could concentrate on the feeling of flying, of being bird's eye view, and surveying the people moving below, so small and toylike that it further added to the otherworldly feeling I get from flying. I breathed in, letting the calmness seep into my veins. I thought back to what happened at lunch, and my stomach clenched.
I did not mean to react so extremely towards Potter, but my reactions kicked in. Simon was not ready for people to know about him yet, and certainly not someone like Potter. A part of me wished it had just been a normal letter from my parents, so I could have watched Potter's face as he realized I was writing about school like any normal teen. Ah well. At least I had heard from Simon. It had been three weeks since I received my last letter from my brother, and I was curious to see how he was adjusting in the United States. I exhaled and crouched down, willing the broom to go faster, and shooting off into the late morning air in a rush of exhilaration. All the anger from lunch got left behind as I zoomed around the pitch. A wild grin split my face. This is the reason I love quidditch, and motivation behind putting up with Kevin Goyle and the long quidditch practices. Eventually I was forced to land, as the rest of the team appeared on the pitch.
Kevin raised his eyebrows at me, before calling the team to attention. Kevin Goyle is several inches shorter than Potter (to my amusement), has cropped brown hair, a crooked nose, and thick eyebrows. I wish I could say his overly bulky body form was compensation for lack of brains, but he is surprisingly calculating and good at drilling into people's weaknesses. He perpetually wears a half smirk that is nearly as infuriating as Potter's, and has expressionless dark eyes to top off the brawny-mysterious look. All those people fortunate enough not to have dated him might call him attractive. I know better. He may have decent looks, but all of his redeeming qualities are quickly being sucked into the black hole that is his heart.
I used to excuse his ruthless behavior because of what happened to his sister eight years ago, but I am starting to realize I have been a bit too condoning, especially when we were dating. Barely anybody knows (I only do because they were my friends growing up and our families have been friends for ages) but eight years ago, right before Kaitlin Goyle was going to attend Hogwarts, she was killed. I do not know the details, such as who did it or why it happened, but I know that Kevin was there, and held her as she died. As terrible as Kevin could be, I could never hate him. However, I truly believe that his sister's death has been eating at his soul for years. Too often, everyone - his parents, relatives, and I- have written off anything bad he did as a result of what happened to Kaitlin, and he has never been held responsible. I may not get along with him now, but he was one of my best friends growing up, and I am worried he will one day be devoured by his bitterness.
After an eternity of having burly, absurdly strong teenager boys launch overweight balls at me with all the force they possess, my hands felt like needles were stabbing into them. The rest of the team was not in much better shape, but our dearest captain has squashed out all of his compassion and had no pity for us "unmotivated slackers." Kevin Goyle was a fantastic quidditch player, and it would not surprise me if he went into a professional league after graduation. He is one of the few players that can challenge Potter. They have a huge rivalry, which translates into many hours of quidditch practice for us.
"Is he acting more insane than usual this year?" Ella Payton, a fourth year chaser, whispered to me, wiping pieces of sweaty hair from her face.
"Yes." I responded bluntly. "Although I think there is more pressure this year. He does not want to lose to Potter again." Last year we lost the Quidditch Cup against Gryffindor in the final round. I may have a lot of different opinions, but I wholeheartedly agree that we need to crush Potter this year. Especially after lunch today. My stomach recoiled again.
"I suppose so. He has been snapping at you more than everyone else." That was true. He was especially merciless in his criticism of me. I suspect he might be slightly bitter that I dumped him. Something about male pride and whatnot, although I think it more likely he realizes it would be a waste of effort to pretend in front of me.
Kevin and I got together at the end of last year, and dated throughout the summer. He seemed surprised that I ended it after he dragged me to a summer party and then proceeded to spend the entire night flirting (leering at really) with Dominique Weasley (right in from of me, mind you). Apparently he was just trying to wield Potter's Quidditch secrets out of her, and I was being selfish and accusing based on ridiculous rumors. It was very comforting to find out he thought I had the intelligence of a flobberworm. And with that, Kevin Goyle and I were no more.
"Everyone, gather up." We all huddle around him, like weary puppies (very fitting with the Slytherin image). "We have our match against Gryffindor in three weeks. We have the better team, and we can, without a doubt, crush them this year. However, we need all the practice possible. This means absolutely NO detentions. I do not care what excuses you have, there will be none." Here he shot a glare at the beaters, Cory and Perry, who were renowned for hexing other teams before the match. After staring at each of us (harnessing the typical pureblood Death stare that I picked up from him), he nodded, and we were released from our suffering. On the way out, he grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.
"Look Nashira. I do not care who you spend time with, but if I hear anything about you letting some play slip to Potter, you will be off the team." I stared at him incredulously.
"Really, Kevin? You think I am going to tell him something?" I snorted. "Not likely." He grinned slightly at my reaction.
"Didn't think so. However, it was my duty to remind you. Tell me if he tries to weasel anything out."I nodded, a bit confused at his attempt of reason. Normally he just skipped to controlling twit. "But if he happens to let something slip… well. It would not hurt to mention it." My expression cleared. So that was what he wanted.
"Again, not likely. We both know Potter is about as talkative as a box glued shut with permanent sticking charm when it comes to quidditch." He sighed and waved me off. I went gladly.
~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Roxie Point of View~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frank caught me on my way to my dorm, causing me to jump when he silently popped out from behind an alcove. I stood frozen for a moment, before relaxing into a glare.
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Psh, never. You are the only sane person around here." He gave me his half smile (proof itself that he was, indeed, trying to murder me). I tried to hold back my blush, and looked for something to distract me. I glanced at his hands, where he was holding the Marauder's Map. "James gave it to me. He wanted to make sure you were alright."
"So he sent you?"
"Yup. Figured I would be the least likely to blow up and cause another argument." Well yeah, but that's because I am in love with you. I sincerely hope James does not know that though. "So are you?" At my questioning look, he elaborated. "Alright, I mean. They really do not mean to insult you or say that you cannot take care of yourself, they are just worried." I sighed.
"I know, but it is irritating when they never trust my judgment. Fred is off in his own little world half the time, and, no offense to James, but he does not exactly have the best track record when it comes to people." We both thought back to Daphne Smith, his old girlfriend.
"Well, you willingly choose to spend your time with us, so I do not know how much that supports your theory about having good judgment." I lightly slapped him with the back of my hand.
"A decent point. But Nashira is a really nice person, and I think she has been misunderstood a lot. I just want them to give her a fair chance."
"I will talk to them, but they are dead set against her. I think they believe that you will stop hanging out with her if they pressure you long enough. They think it is just a matter of time before you cave."
"So basically they are just going to ignore me and purposely act irritating until I decide that my friendship with Nashira is not worth risking my 'family bonds.'" My voice was flat, and Frank's expression turned worried. Apparently this was not part of the plan.
"No! I just meant that they know you value loyalty and family above everything else. It is not a bad thing!"
"Really? Letting my family purposely manipulate me is not bad. And they have the nerve to say that Nashira is using me. They are just as bad! Worse, actually, because Nashira is not using me."
" But you have to admit, sometimes you tend to sit back and go along with their plans. "
"Well not this time. Please relay back to my brother and cousin that this time I am not caving. Nashira is my friend, and if they truly love me, they had better get used to it." I whirled around and started heading back towards the direction from where I came, ignoring Frank's shouts.
~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~Nashira Point of View~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four hours, a shower, and several chocolate frogs later, I was back in the library, sitting at my normal table (in the back of the library, near a huge window. My specific table is lathered with graffiti, an added bonus to keep me amused when I need a study break. Half of my vocabulary has its origins here, and even a sailor would have been impressed with the level of creativity. I find it particularly stimulating when I need an extra boost during transfiguration homework). I had my charms book open, but was staring out the window, absentmindedly tracing one of my favorite insults with my middle finger. With a start, I remembered Simon's letter. I dug into my bag, eventually finding it wedged between an old chocolate frog wrapper and a crumpled up transfiguration essay. I smoothed out the parchment, and reread it without the interruption of an annoying Gryffindor. Most of the letter was Simon spewing off details about the United States, but he ended it with a depressing note, saying he still had not heard from my father. I sat back in my chair. It did not surprise me that my father still refused to contact my brother, but Simon still held onto some miniscule hope that my father would see the light. I went back to staring out the window.
I barely heard Roxie slip into the seat across from me, and I jumped when she spoke.
"Do you remember what you said the first night we became friends?" Uh. Maybe? I turned towards her. Roxie seemed a bit odd. Normally she was very bubbly and upbeat, but today she seemed quiet and pensive.
"Which part, specifically?"
"The part about James and Fred needing to be taught a lesson." I continued to stare blankly at her. She exhaled breathe through her nose, exasperated.
"I'm tired of James and Fred acting like they know best, like they are the smartest people."
"And…?" Roxie's eyes seemed to glitter.
"And I think it is time to teach them a lesson. Show them that they are not the smartest. Hopefully deflate their egos a little." Ego deflating? Now that was intriguing… (especially when it was Potter's ego).
"How do you plan to do that?"
"Oh, not just me. I am dragging you into this too. We are going to teach them a lesson where it will be most effective. You, Nashira darling, have just become partners with the newest and greatest prankster of this generation." My eyebrows shot up.
~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~/~~~
YAY! I finally got this one done! This took waaaaaaaay longer than I hoped, but I promise to update quickly now (I am on break! Which means time to write! And sleep...). So. After a good 15,000 words, I have finally got the plot started. Uh. Tell me if it is too slow a beginning... What did you think of Kevin? Originally he was supposed to be completely evil, but than I created a back story for him, and he is starting to grow on me. Any thoughts on the other characters? Thank you so so so so much to all the people who have taken the time to review! I cannot describe just how much I appreciate it. Even if it is just a quick five second review telling me one thing to improve or that you liked, it will make my day (and it IS the holidays!). Once again, THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING 3