Updating is hard work. So is editing. I know how both go along.
Updating is the easy part. You think, you type, you upload, and then finally you edit and publish. Editing, however, is a completely different story. You check your email for drafts, edit the drafts, send them back to the author, and then wait for the revised draft for approval and polishing.
I'm ridiculously impatient, and slow revising doesn't mix particularly well with that. Tamminx, yes, I mean you.
A'right, I still only own my OCs, no doubt about that.
"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," said the blond eleven-year-old, extending his pale little hand towards a boy with glasses. The boy reacted, and Malfoy insulted the boy's redhead friend.
"He already has friends, as you can see, Malfoy," Felicia piped up. Her chocolate brown tresses were in a nice ponytail, and she blew away a loose strand on her face. "And who are you? Don't tell me you're Potter's friend?" sneered Malfoy, looking at the boy he called Potter.
"Actually, no. I'm not Potter's friend. I'm Felicia De Ford," the eleven-year-old girl drawled, smirking. The redhead beside Potter sniggered at her name. She shot daggers in his direction. "Now you think my name's funny? Well, Ronald Weasley, it's certainly much better than yours," she said coolly, her mind-altering glare already glazing into a very bored stare. The Weasley boy shrank back at the mention of his name, wondering how the evil little brunette girl knew it. Felicia simply gathered that from the fact that she heard the words "Ron" and "Weasley" from the boy's impoverished lips to know that his name was indeed Ronald Weasley.
The Malfoy boy glared at her, but she just smirked at his anger. "You, on the other hand, Draco Malfoy, were named after a star. But I do recall that mostly girls are named after stars," a few other boys and girls snickered behind and around her, enjoying the embarrassment the already proving pompous Draco Malfoy was experiencing.
Felix smirked in her sleep, already enjoying the torment she inflicted on Malfoy, even as an impressionable eleven-year-old. She noticed something between her fingers, nope, not something, but somethings. They were nice, warm, not cold like her own hands, and they were soft. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the famed cornflower-blue of her eyes.
If this was just a regular day at Hogwarts, wearing her regular uniform, after a regular day, she wouldn't be shocked. But of course, this was not a regular instance. She was clad in shorts, a tank top, a jacket, and muggle sneakers. Definitely not her uniform.
A memory came ringing back in her ears, right before her brother left for Greece. She was fifteen.
Don't worry, Xeno, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself while you're away.
He made her promise on their own father's grave (he said he'd have one soon enough) that she'd never wake up in the arms of a man at Hogwarts.
A little part of her was hurt when she uncurled her fingers from Draco's, and even more when she unlatched herself from him.
Wake up and smell the champagne, Felix, you fucking promised on your dear daddy's grave. And Draco isn't really the best catch.
What do you mean he's not the best catch?
I mean that exactly. I'm your conscience, I'm the one telling you right from wrong, you crazed Draco-fangirl.
I'm not a Draco-fangirl. And you're my subconscious; I really don't listen to you.
Try listen to me for once, please?
No wonder I don't listen to you. I don't say please.
She went to her dorm, and then screamed at what she saw.
A half-nude (she hoped) Cameron, fast asleep in Ivy's bed, the owner of the bed, lying beside him. Now, Felix didn't scream real often, since she usually found no reason for it.
Ivy slinked out of the bed, wearing a sheet around her body like a dress. Cameron took the other sheet, dressing quickly, and then kissing Ivy's forehead before leaving.
Felix took off the bracelets on her arms, placed them on the dresser, and then forced a hard stare on Ivy. "Can you please tell me why I find my two bestfriends in the same bed, nude as the day they were born, and most of all, why didn't you use another room?"
Ivy put a robe on, and smiled at her friend. "You looked happy. And I needed to be happy too. So, Cammy made it happen."
Felix rolled her eyes and shrugged off her jacket. "Whatever. Will it kill you two to use another room next time?"
"Sure, Felix. So…he didn't touch you?" Ivy asked, pulling some clothes on behind the screen. "If you count holding my hand, yeah," Felix replied nonchalantly, changing into some sensible jeans.
Ivy's blond head peeked out from behind the screen, her eyes in shock. "Felicia Xavierre De Ford. Are you blind or something?"
She scowled at the mention of her full name. "No. I am not blind. Why, is there something I don't perceive?"
"He's in love with you. Hold your hand is classic. And if your fingers curled around his, you like him too," Ivy sneered, tying her dirty blond hair into a braid after dressing up.
The realization sent a rosy blush unto Felix's usually pale cheeks. "No, I don't."
Ivy chuckled. "My dear girl, you're in love."
"Being in love and having a crush are two entirely different things."
"If you say so, Felix. Anyway, I have to ask you; how're you going to handle being around him? I mean, don't you two like, hang out?"
"I can handle it. You do know how I act around everyone, right?"
"Mmhm. Like a boy. When someone says something that would leave me dumbfounded, you come up with sarcasm."
"Then you just answered your own question."
"I hate it when you do that."
Felix sneered, pulling on a black hoodie. "Funny, Ivy. I'm going to breakfast. I'm hungry, half-hungover, and in dire need of some proper company."
Ivy pouted, but still allowed her friend to go to breakfast alone. Felix pulled the hood over her head, her head throbbing rhythmically.
Once she got to the Great Hall, she sat down on her usual spot at the Slytherin table and a cup of blue liquid popped up in front of her. She assumed it was hangover potion and drank it all. After that, her headache disappeared gradually, and yet she still felt like keeping the hood on her head.
She pushed the sleeves up and rested her chin in her palm. "Hello there, little miss hangover," someone said mockingly in front of her. She glanced up to see Draco Malfoy sneering.
"Oh. Hi Draco," she said boredly, her chin still resting on her palm. He sat down across her, and then took the hood of her head quickly before she could react. "What the fuck? Will you not do that?" she snapped angrily. He chuckled. "I'd love to, but I already did it."
They'd gotten into a very severe glaring contest when Blaise waltzed in. "Ah, young love," he sneered, looking at the blond and the brunette. Cameron appeared beside Draco, though Felix didn't notice, she was too busy glaring. "Oi, you two. Can't you just play chess and get over it?"
Draco sneered and used this as a tease. "I only play strip chess, Cameron."
Felix lowered the hoodie back over her head and drank her tea looking at the table, really not burned by the teasing. "Very cute of you, Felix, the old I'm-innocent-and-oblivious routine," said Draco, still staring at her with mischief in his grey eyes.
She looked up, her blue eyes twinkling. "If that's the only thing you play, how come I see you playing chess with Blaise?"
The two boy's cheeks reddened, burned by the comeback. She smirked, and ate the toast on her tea and drank more tea.
They went quiet, watching her eat. It seemed like they were just pondering the next thing to say. But Draco already had something to say.
"Take the hood of your head, I can't see your pretty face properly."
She looked up, her cheeks gaining some significant color. She slipped the hood off her hair carefully. "There." He leaned in close.
"I, for one, think you're very pretty when you're not scowling."
She blinked. "You're joking."
He leant back, his eyes widening in mock-horror. "Of course not! Won't you agree, boys, that Felix here does look prettier than Pansy in all aspect? Oh wait, no. You, Felix, are a beautifully spiteful girl. And I like that."
The boys roared in laughter. She could feel all the laughter bouncing off her skin, and for once, she felt vulnerable. No veneer of sarcasm, of boyish demeanor, or of pure loathing.
"If he's actually telling the truth, you shouldn't be laughing," she said quietly. The laughter died down. They looked at her, waiting for her reaction.
"It's just a joke, Felix, don't need to get worked up about it," Blaise said, looking at the floor. At that moment, all the emotions she'd been keeping pent up in her—anger, hatred, passion, love—were released in one movement. She choked Blaise with both her hands, her teeth clenching as air refused to come to Blaise, her anger getting the better of her.
Someone pulled her arms away from Blaise's throat, and he gasped for air. Cameron took Blaise to the infirmary, and whoever it was who was restraining her was in huge trouble.
"LET GO OF ME MALFOY!" she screamed, her anger rising to a dangerously high level. "You nearly killed him, De Ford. I refuse to let you kill my best friend. And if restraining you is what it takes, then so be it!" he snarled, the grip on her arms tightening. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU SLIMY BASTARD!" she bellowed, trying to tear her hands away from him. "This is not my fault. Now, I'd rather fight with you in the common room, since I do not want to get expelled because of you," he spat, already dragging her to the dungeons. She suggested that they go to class first, and he consented. When class finally ended, he continued to drag her down to the dungeons.
Once they had arrived, he let go of her arms and forced her to sit on the couch she woke up in. "Alright, what's with you? You acted pretty normal until I told you that I liked the fact that you're a beautifully spiteful girl. Are you going to slash your wrists again?"
She glared at him. "I would, but the middle statement in your monologue stunned me a bit." He sat down beside her, and she edged away significantly.
"You're stunned that I think you're actually pretty?" he asked, raising a fair brow. "Have you no self-pride in what you see in the mirror?"
She glared at him. "I know you do, you textbook narcissist. But I'm afraid I don't like what I see in the mirror. I see my mother, and my mother is a very overprotective and annoying woman who believes that I should find a proper husband who will not just rape me and a steady job before I turn thirty."
He looked at her with a serious face for a few seconds, and then laughed. "I see why you don't like your mother. But you should remember that the only reason why she does that is that she loves you."
"Why, I forgot a galleon. I didn't expect a round of 'Wise Words from Draco Malfoy' after I released my anger on Blaise," she cocked an eyebrow. He chuckled. "Nah, those aren't wise words at all. But why in Salazar's name did you strangle Blaise in the first place, when I was the one who called you pretty?"
She blinked twice. Er, why did I do that anyway? "'Salazar's name'. I like that. I read a story about this girl named Julie Salazar once," (1) she trailed off, not finding a proper answer to his question. "Bollocks that. I need an answer, Felix De Ford, and I want it now," he commanded, leaning a little bit closer.
"Fine, fine. I'll gladly give you an answer if you stop invading my highly personal space," she said snidely. He edged away obediently. "Now, the answer you promised me?"
I hate honesty. Damn you, honesty! And you too, teenage hormones! (2)
"Because… because…. I can't stand hurting a friend," she lied. Christ, I hope he can't sense lying or something like that. "You're lying," Draco said. Mother fuck. I haven't this bad a liar since I was two! "And so? What do you care if I'm lying?" she snapped, uttering a long chain of profanities in her head.
"I know that you're swearing right there inside that pretty little head of yours, and I'd like you to just spit it out before I have to beat the answer out of you," he snarled. "You want the actual, un-sugar coated, real truth?" she asked innocently. "Yes, yes. Just tell me already!"
"I couldn't almost kill you because… erm, because," she couldn't manage to form the words. He caught the words in her throat and smirked. "You couldn't strangle me because you like me," he edged closer, a stray lock of blond hair falling across his grey eyes. Alright, that's cute.
"Maybe I do," she said in a small voice, transferring her gaze from Malfoy's eyes to the floor. "Ah, why don't you believe yourself?" he asked, tipping her chin up so she could meet his eyes. "And no, don't answer a simple question with a death glare."
She rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Because it disturbs me to think that you're actually telling the truth and I actually like you more than I should, and it's terribly embarrassing—not to mention demoralizing—to know that I have a crush on my best friend and I don't like the idea of actually being heard of as a—"
Malfoy cut her off by putting a finger to her lips. He lowered the finger, but before she could open her mouth to blast out indecencies and insults, where his index finger was once was his lips, pressed a little too nicely to her own.
Her eyes closed, her cheeks pink, they continued, well, up until she had to breathe. She gulped, blinked, and her jaw dropped. He smirked.
"Cute. See you tomorrow, Felix."
Mother fuck! I hate you, Draco Malfoy, you dastardly tease!
He might've noticed her staring at him, because he had something else to say before going to bed.
"I like you too, Felix De Ford."
He winked, and then at that moment, the Felix De Ford of ice melted into a lowly puddle.
Look what you do to me, Draco. Look.
(1) It's a story here, in fact, it's in my favorites list. Look for 'Neoteric' by White Replica. If you know about H.I.V.E., that is.
(2) I feel the same way, Felix. You're not alone in that.
Yup. That's the revelation.
R&R!
