Hometown Glory

Chapter Three: Witches and Muggle-Fairytales

"Sisters are different flowers from the same garden." - Author Unknown

She was staring into the old dusty mirror, staring intently at her reflection like if she was waiting for something to happen. For something to change.

And maybe she was.

She was staring at her mousy-brown hair, so plain and there. Not really sure where she got that trait from, her mother was a true blonde after all; just like everyone from the Delacour side. And her father? Well, she wasn't sure what his natural color was, he never really liked to explain how much of him he altered every day. She just knows that as the years have gone by, his turquoise-colored hair has gradually faded into a black color.

She moved past the nose, the mouth, and the skin color, it was all the same like everyone else in her massive family. (Same small nose, same red-like lips, and pale skin with a few freckles.) There was nothing special about her or her features, except her eyes.

Ever since she was a little girl she had the ability to alter her eye color, a little gift from her father's Metamorphmagus genes. The only thing she was able to change as she wished, everything else was a little more complex. (She had some control over her hair, but she always got exhausted trying to change it to a different shade. She always just managed faint highlights, and she wasn't one for them.) But she liked it, it made her different from everyone else. And one day, when she had the patience and the ability, she would be far more different.

She sighed a little, shaking her head and turning her then blue-eyes into a violet color. "Being a girl's tough," she murmured to herself, turning away from the mirror left behind in her Uncle Percy's old room in the Burrow.

Angelique Lupin was not for looks or vanity, she left all those annoyingly girly characteristics to her older sister, but for the past hour she had been working hard to alter her features. Just starting at herself, putting all her focus into creating something new, like a drawing or a clay mold. But nothing really happened, except for a tan that did not suit her.

And just as she continued questioning herself, or scoffing at herself for being so suddenly insecure, Angelique noticed a parchment laying on her Uncle Percy's old bed, rolled up paper-balls around it.

It happened out of nowhere

The way you appeared and stole my heart

You took my breath away, took everything I had

You became my constant thought, my deadly desire

The way you smile, my cure for sadness

The way your eyes shine, my favorite color

With you around I know I can reach the sky;

I can feel the stars;

Could touch the moon

…Except that everything ignites on fire and I am left gasping for air

Because you don't see me;

Even when all I see is you.

Oh, that was why.

"Oi, Angelique!"

Sprinting like someone had just thrown the last Chocolate Frog left in the world onto that old bed, Angelique launched herself onto the mattress. She reached for the evidence of those pathetic words she scribbled on that parchment. "Don't you knock?" She shouted, scowling as she shoved the parchment underneath the pillow. "I could've been changing, you pervert."

Standing there, with an eyebrow raised, and a snort being let out, Logan Greengrass flipped the middle finger out at his cousin. "Please, not interest. And that's an extremely disgusting thought, what's wrong with you?"

Angelique rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Greengrass, and make it snappy. I was trying to nap."

"I know," Logan retorted with a huff. "The rest of us are downstairs working like house-elves for Rose and Scorpius while Princess Angie is up and away from the commoners."

"Yeah, well, not everyone can be as fortunate as me," she replied. "Besides, Grandmum Molly said it was alright to be up here."

"Her favorite now, are you?"

Angelique smiled, shaking her head in reply and then focusing her eyes into his. And in less than a second, her violet-colored eyes popped into an overall white. "Because I scare the children."

Logan rolled his eyes, giving his leg a back kick and closing the door shut. "Freak," he said to her, heading her way. "I think you just spook her."

As he lowered himself at the end edge of the mattress, Angelique raised her feet and kicked him on his stomach with her boots. "What do you want, little Logan? I got no sweets for you today."

"I wouldn't take them if you did," the boy retorted, crossing his arms as he made himself more comfortable on the bed. But seeing the building annoyance on Angelique's face, Logan sighed; deciding to be honest with her. "I just wanted a moment to think, alright."

The witch raised her eyebrow. "About?"

"Love."

"Oh, get out!" Angelique stuck her tongue out, pulling on a disgusted expression. "Do you really have to do that here? I mean, isn't the subject burnt in this household already? Look what happened to Bliss and Rowle, I say run from it and never look back."

But not taking it as a joke, no matter how much Angelique shivered, Logan frowned at her. "Oi, the Bliss thing is not funny, Angie. She's been crying for two days now, it's kind of depressing actually."

She huffed. "Of course it's sad, Riley ratted her out then and there." Logan's expression did not change, so she sighed again. "Alright, it's terrible, I know that. But, mind you, what exactly can I do here? I'm not the most sensitive person out there, you know."

"More than Riley, I expect." Logan huffed, shaking his head. "This is why I'm keeping my relationship hidden away from the family. You can never trust a secret with our relatives."

Putting a palm up, a sense of laughter filling up her chest, Angelique gave her second-cousin a weird look. "Wait, wait, wait." She let the laughter out. "You're telling me that you, Logan Greengrass, the bloke who wears footy-pajamas to bed, has a girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't say girlfriend exact, I mean, I'm keeping my options open here. I don't want people to think we're exclusive or anything and then tell my mum about it, that just won't end well," Logan explained quickly, and then proceeded to punch her leg. "And wearing those pajamas were a bet, you know that!"

"No, they weren't."

"Yes they were! I lost the bet to you!"

"Whatever." Angelique scoffed, forgetting about that momentarily. "I'm just still in shock here that you have a girlfriend…That's crazy."

With a light creak that should have been heard if Angelique was not letting the idea wrap around her head that someone actually fancied her relative, a pair of blue-eyes narrowed at the girl. "Well, just because you have no hope doesn't mean the rest of us don't."

And there, feeling that bubbling rage that she always got when she heard that voice, Angelique turned her head in an angle; her teeth gritted together.

"Mind you, even trolls mate. What does that exactly say about you, Angie?" Taking the freedom to step more into the room, Glorie Lupin smirked a little at her younger sister. "I reckon, for your sake, that you should think about passing as a muggle and joining one of those holy-places, you know? The ones where women who know will never find someone tend to go when they've hit rock bottom."

Angelique felt her fist pulsate, wanting to contract and then collide it with Glorie's pretty face. That gorgeous face that she was so proud of, that symbolized everything a descendant from the Delacours should be—perfect. (How'd she love to rearrange it for her.) "Well, then, I might be better off there then. Mind you, I wouldn't want to be in a world filled with men who are interested in blonde, clueless, dimwitted, simple girls that they are just merely attracted to. Part veela and all, Glorie, but, looks do fade. What are you going to do then?"

Logan let out a strangled puff of air, closing his mouth shut as he tried to contain the roar of laughter that wanted to go out.

Glorie raised her head high, trying to remain strong in her place like her sister's words meant nothing. "Maybe so, Angelique, but you tell me something. What bloke, in the times we live in now, who love the beautiful, thin girls, will go for someone like you?" She chuckled. "How many actually are looking for the girls with…'personality' right now?"

Angelique's fingers twitched, her fingertips sensed her wand nearby.

But taking her sister's silence as a good thing, Glorie continued. Stricken with anger, she wanted to hurt her. The brat had something that belonged to her, and until she got it back, she was going to make her little sister's life hell. "Though, that's the problem too, isn't it? Personality. You lack one." She took another step in, crossing her arms and glaring. "But even if you were to conjure one up, how long would that last? When you'd probably send them running with the disturbing things you do with your bloody eyes, freak."

And that was it, the melting point. "Aguamenti!"

"Run, Angie! Run!" Logan shouted as the stream of water she had produced from her wand knocked her older sister to the floor; her piercing scream blasting off the walls of Percy's old room.

She was done for.

X

"Why did we sign up for this?"

"Because my Aunt Hermione did not buy the excuse of us going to Hawaii for the month." There was a mumbled curse. "And Mum got all 'Dominique, ceci est la famille! Ceci est important. Rose ferait la même chose pour vous.' Whatever that meant. "

Turning in an angle from her laying position on a leather couch she had taken refuge in for the past hour, Angelique saw her Aunt Dominique scowling and passing her husband an envelope.

"Yeah, your mother is a charming woman, but quite terrifying," Derrick Rowle admitted honestly, sighing as he added the envelope to a pile of more on his left. "I get that, but why did you have to tell Rose we would do everything by hand?"

Dominique glared at her husband from the corner of her eye, rubbing her wrist as she threw her quill in the ink-pot nearby. "Because I was drunk, Rowle, that's why. Because I am too nice when there's too much alcohol in my system, happy now?"

The man said nothing, he just quickly looked down at his section of envelopes.

Angelique smirked a little; how she loved that woman.

"Besides, be thankful I managed to get us to escape the Burrow nightmare that's going on at the moment." She threw him another envelope. "Just like my little niece did here."

Angelique dropped the smirk and narrowed her eyes, lifting herself and seating up straight.

Dominique looked up from her work, leering at her niece without any shame or compassion. "It would be nice, since I did accept you with generous hospitality, if you told me why you were here, Ange."

"I could leave," the sixteen year-old answered back to her aunt, frowning. "That's the benefits of having a large family and an unlimited supply of Floo Powder."

"Imagine if she could apparate?" Derrick commented, chuckling to himself.

Dominique disregarded her husband, handing him her pile of work left undone as she continued to stare at her niece. "Tell me what happened, girl."

Angelique sighed, scoffing the tip of her boot on the wooden floor of her aunt's living room. "I have the Anti-Christ as a sister," she mumbled, and then shrugged after a quick pause. "And I might have hexed her."

Dominique's leer grew, but her green eyes contrasted with it.

"I hate her!" Angelique retorted, knowing that her aunt wanted more than just that. "She hates me, it's a cycle, Aunt Dom. She's the bloody good-for-everything-except-nothing-at-all-really precious gem of Mum and Dad. It sickens me."

The redheaded woman raised her eyebrow.

"And I stole something of hers! Merlin, don't get your knickers in a twist," the girl added in a huff, crossing her arms indignantly.

Her aunt leaned against the back of the armchair she was seated in. "I get it, Angelique, both of you have a rivalry. It's perfectly normal for you two, you're so opposite from one another. I felt the same way about your mum."

And this time it was Angelique's turn to raise her eyebrow, looking skeptically at the woman.

"Your mum was the prodigal daughter for Bill and Fleur; she was everything they expected out of their child." Dominique began a sentimental tale, her husband quickly picking up the rest of the envelopes and heading towards the kitchen of his home. (He knew better than to be involved in a women's conversation. Especially with two fiery beings like them.) "She got excellent marks in school, became prefect, won medals for who-the-hell-cares, became Head Girl, graduated Hogwarts, became a Healer, got married pure and in white, and was a blonde. Don't you think I never clashed with her? Do you not know me, Angelique? Don't you know your mother? It was a nightmare living with one another, especially because I never gave a damn about anything that Victoire valued."

"But Glorie genuinely hates me, Dominique. And she thinks she can get away with everything because she's daddy's girl."

The redhead woman sighed, narrowing her eyes at her niece. "That's the same way I felt. I was always secretly competing with your mother, and you know what? I lost that round. I was everything opposite of Victoire, just like you are with Glorie. But listen to me, Ange, all the fighting, all the yelling, all the thieving you will do with each other's things, does not stop making you sisters. And that's a bond you'll always have, no matter what. You will never be able to get rid of her, because sadly, we don't get to choose our family. If we did, I would have gotten rid of Louis a long time ago."

Angelique sighed too, slouching on the couch as she crossed her arms. Her eyes started changing colors as she tapped her foot, 'trying' to consider her aunt's words. But she wasn't going to lie, it was difficult. Glorie was everything she hated in a person, and she never really saw their relationship healing and becoming one as strong as the one Dominique had with Victoire.

Not even a fortune-teller would be able to see that happening.

Aiming a quick glance to the majestic clock hanging on the furthest wall of her living room, Dominique turned back to her niece. Already guessing what was going through her head. "Tell me something, if Glorie was practically dying in front of your eyes, crying every day with so much pain most people won't stay in a room with her, and you have heard her say she wants to die, what would you do? Would you walk away, letting all those differences and arguments get in between you saving her? Or would you step forward and try to help her without hesitation?"

Angelique's expression turned blank, her eyes fading without any of her consent into the exact blue-shade Glorie's were. Her mind coming up with the broken image of her older sister. Something began tugging at her insides, and she didn't like it one bit.

She frowned, snorting as she crossed her arms tighter. She already knew the bloody the answer.

Dominique smiled, glancing quickly at the clock once more. "Your mum saved me, Angelique, right when I was dying of heartache." She inhaled, the memory of when Derrick had left her with the unborn child flashing rapidly through her eyes. "And even Louis, that's why I love that git now. As much as I would sell him to the first bidder in Knockturn Alley, I love him."

Crack.

Interrupting the little emotional appreciate-your-siblings moment they were having, a tall redhead boy appeared through the crack of air, followed by another. The redhead smiling widely, his rucksack landing on the floor carelessly as his companion lingered in the background.

And walking towards that boy, Dominique extended her arms to him and once he had approached the woman, Dominique reached over and smacked him on the head forcefully.

"Oi, Mum, what was that?"

"You're late," Dominique snapped, glaring as her son rubbed his head. "Do you know how worried I was?"

Dustin frowned at her too, but taking a cautious step back. "It was Wood's fault, go hit him!"

And behind him, a tall dark-haired boy, with mesmerizing brown eyes stepped forward. Aiming a quick punch to the arm at Dustin, but smiling enchantingly at his mother. "Good evening, Mrs. Rowle."

"Zacharias, how lovely to see you again." Dominique hugged him, but threw her son a frown over his friend's shoulder. "But what's with all these bags? You were only supposed to stay for the ceremony."

Dustin snorted. "Yeah, well, we changed our minds. The Headmaster gave us the week off, after we finished a few things at school of course."

"How fortunate for you two." Beginning to scowl at her son, Dominique felt a calming hand on her shoulder as her husband came out of the kitchen. Grinning hugely as his pride and joy came back after about half a year of not seeing him. "And what will you be doing in all this time? Because last I checked, Rose had no clue about your early visit."

Dustin grinned, but took another step back. "Well, I got an owl from Jet yesterday, and he's in dire need for some cheering up, yeah? And I said to Zack, what sort of friend would I be if I just let him wallow in his misery and heartbreak? That thing with Bliss really has him all topsy-turvy, Mum."

"So Dustin suggested, so generously, an entire day at a pub in London, all for Jet's cause," Zacharias commented soon after, smirking a little as Dustin glared at him.

"A pub, Dustin?"

The redhead eighteen year-old took another step back and a lot to the side, his eyes finding a human-shield that had been hiding from his view. "Angelique, didn't see you there!"

"I - um." Angelique swallowed a ball of nerves, her heart rushing with something unexplainable as all eyes landed on her; especially those brown ones that belonged Wood.

She shouldn't have been there. She should have been at the Burrow, hiding out in her Uncle Percy's old room, minding her own business and staying away from the wedding-chores someone had signed her up for. She should have been there, safe and away from Wood, but like always things did not go her way.

Damn Glorie, this was her fault and Angelique knew it. (She would gladly drown her in another shot of Aguamenti, that wench.)

"Hey, Angie." Zacharias had spoken, and she barely heard him. She just watched him move his lips, oh those glorious lips. "How are you?"

Now, if only she could answer him. If only she could stop her pounding heart, her boiling blood, the butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach, and the dizzying sounds inside her eardrums.

Damn him too. Him and the hectic mess he turned her to when he was around. (Oh, how she felt like a fool constantly.)

"Angelique, don't be rude." Dominique scowled at her niece.

Damn her aunt too, then. "…Hey, Zack," she managed to mutter out, swallowing again.

Now you may ask yourself: what the hell is happening here? Well, Angelique would like to answer that, but she doesn't even know. She didn't know what this feeling was, but that Wood was the only one who caused it in her; ever since she was nine.

Zacharias Wood became Dustin's best friend in his first year at Hogwarts, and the rest sort of explains itself. Wood was always around since his bond with Dustin was unbreakable, meaning he was always invited to every Weasley-and-Co's family gatherings which exposed him to the others. And the boy was always so charming, becoming really well liked amongst the family, and especially by Angelique.

There was a way he would smile at her, a way he would include her in their plans for a game of Quidditch, Exploding Snap, Wizard Chess, or anything else Dustin wanted to exclude her from just to be a git. She imagined he was what Prince Charming looked like from that muggle-fairytale one of her relatives had once read to her.

Except there was a tiny, teensy problem: he didn't know she existed.

He couldn't see what he did to her, or how much she followed after him like a loyal puppy. He didn't know that every hug he gave her sent her heart thumping; how every conversation he had with her would replay a thousand times before going to bed; how every glance he gave her she memorized; how every time he walked her to class she wanted time to slow down so she could have him for a little longer; how the book he gave her for her fifteenth birthday is in her treasure chest; how the letter he had sent her the summer before her Fourth Year, randomly, she keeps in there too; or how every time he brushes by her breaks her heart.

Because he sees her, he does, but right through her.

And that's what hurts so much.

Angelique isn't the nicest or a girly-girl for starters, but for him she adopts those stupid fairytale endings most of the girls her age are always going on and on about. Because she allows herself to dream about him, to picture the rest of their life together. Because she wants him to ride up in armor and save her. Save her from herself and the poisoning ideas that sometimes lingers in her head. Because she knows he'd be the cure, her shot at happiness and rainbows.

"Angelique." Snap.

Blinking her eyes rapidly, a little stunned, Angelique widened her gaze as she found a man with infuriated red-eyes staring into hers, the deepest frown on his face that she hadn't seen on him in a while. "Dad?"

Teddy Lupin narrowed his eyes at his youngest daughter, crossing his arms as he stared at her disapprovingly. "You didn't think I wouldn't know that you'd be hiding out here?" He turned his head in an angle, throwing his frown at his sister-in-law.

"Oi, be glad I took her in and she wasn't taking wondering about in the mental streets of Britain." Dominique snapped at Teddy, not stirred by his glare. "Besides, she wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your uncontrollable temper, Lupin."

"She wouldn't be here if she hadn't flooded Glorie to the floor!" Teddy retorted back.

Angelique smiled faintly, feeling uncomfortable as Wood tried containing his laughter.

"It was harmless, I'm sure."

Teddy frowned harder at Dominique. "Oh, but of course. Because if Dustin was to almost drown Devon, it would be harmless and you would handle it so easily."

"Technically, that already happened," Derrick interjected causally, trying to ease the tension with some humor.

Dominique rolled her eyes at her husband, pushing him a step back. "Maybe, it's ideal, Lupin, to give the girls some time apart. You know Glorie won't let this slide, and Grandmum Molly does not need her home destroyed by the pair of them. Aunt Ginny will murder you if they do."

And just as Teddy looked to be thinking that over, Dustin stepped in as soon as he saw the saddened looked in Angelique's eyes. (But not really knowing that that look was for something entirely different; she could give a hippogriff's ass about Glorie or her dad's disappointment at the moment.) "Listen, Uncle Ted, why don't you just let Angie stay here for a bit? Let things cool down over there first."

"Devon's upstairs, she could stay with her for a few hours," Mister Rowle offered.

And wanting to help the girl, Wood added his two cents too. "Dustin and I can take her back to the Burrow when we return from the pub at night. We are going to be staying there for the week anyway, it wouldn't be a problem."

And again, Angelique's heart went thump, thump, thump with so much force. And this time not just by the beautiful sound of his voice.

"We're taking Uncle Percy's old room." Dustin nodded along with his friend. "It won't be a problem, honestly."

Teddy sighed. "Alright—"

"No, are you mad!" Angelique smacked her palm over her mouth, her hysteria coming out unannounced as she could picture Dustin and Wood stumbling into Percy's room, one of them finding all those rubbish writings she stuffed underneath the pillows; never guessing that someone would actually want to go in there. "I mean, I think I should apologize to Glorie."

At that, her father and aunt raised their eyebrows at her. Watching her carefully, like she was an alien who staggered its way into the Rowles living room.

Taking in a deep inhale, Angelique pulled on the phoniest grin she could muster, and her eyes the lightest shade of violet ;looking perfectly innocent. "Shall we go now, Dad?"

Dominique still looked at her niece quizzically, especially as she glance forward, blushed, and then took her father's hand. And almost like a light-bulb had gone off, the redheaded woman smirked. "…Aha."

Angelique cleared her throat and shut her eyes, feeling the dizzying feel of side-long apparation instantly as she tried to push off the knowing gaze her aunt had thrown at her.

She did not need Dominique playing her Godmother in this failed-attempt of fairytale that was never going to happen. She already knew she was never going to have him, she didn't need someone else knowing too.

AN: Well, Hello there my lovely readers!

I hope all of you are doing beautifully! (Can you tell I'm in a good mood?)

Anyway, I hope you're liking this and that it isn't too confusing. And if it is, I'm sorry?

I love you all. (: