A/N Due to the release of Deathly Hallows my story has become unbelievably AU, as I suspected it might. However, I hope that perhaps those who truly love the story line may be able to continue along with it.
"What is that?" I inquire eagerly. "It looks like a giant penis."
"That would be our seaside home in Ireland," Cole replies, glancing at the tall tower. "I think it was made to look like penis, actually. My grandfather had it erected—" He breaks off at his choice of words and scowls.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," I say, a smirk coming to my face as I sip my butterbeer. "And where would this darling little…now, what would you call that, a cottage?" I ask, pointing at the rather modest looking house sitting along a country lane.
"That's our shack," Cole says, playing along. "It's where we go to remind ourselves that life could be much worse. We could be poor. Or, worse, Muggles."
"Oh, horror of all horrors," I say sarcastically, giggling. "Not muggles! Anything but muggles. What would you do?"
"Kill myself," he replies promptly with a shrug. "Want one?"
I turn to see him extending a glass with steaming liquid inside of it. For a moment I hesitate. I have not been known to hold my liquor rather well. In fact, I can't hold it at all. I glance at an alcoholic beverage and I'm already hammered before my first sip. It's rather dreadful but, funnily enough, has yet to keep me from drinking.
"Oh, yes, thank you," I place my butterbeer on the table and take the glass from Cole. "Where was this?"
"In the liquor cabinet downstairs. It's filled with loads of stuff to drink," he replies, sipping from his own glass. He winces slightly as it goes down, obviously feeling the effect. I don't want to feel left out, so I quickly gulp down three sips to make up for lost time.
Fifteen minutes and two refills later and I'm feeling quite ill. Perhaps I should have mentioned to Cole that I didn't eat today, so the only thing entering my body is alcohol. I'm pretty sure Brandy Hall left in Fourth Year from some sort of poisoning not unlike this. She came back with an alcohol tracking device strapped to her wrist and a stutter.
"Fill her up," I say thickly, thrusting my glass at Cole, who gazes at it hesitantly. I can tell he obviously thinks I'm smashed, but is that any reason as to why I can't have some more? Like, if there's already a gaping hole in a boat what's another few holes going to do?
"Are you sure? Perhaps you should have something to eat?" He offers me what I assume, in my drunken haze, to be an appetizer. "They're good. My house-elf made them just before you got here."
I take one blearily and put it in my mouth and let it sit there. I forget how to chew. Whatever it is gets soggy very quickly. It does taste good, though, which is a definite plus in my books.
Okay, ten minutes later and I'm officially drunk. Cole hasn't had anything to drink, except the initial drink he had, because he seems to be afraid I'm going to pass out, choke on my own vomit, and die all while he's too drunk to realize it. I try to reassure him that I don't get sick when the twenty thousand appetizers I shoved in my mouth suddenly want to come back up.
"Oh, I don't feel so hot," I inform him, clutching my stomach as hard as I can. "I think I may be sick." A plant is shoved in my face.
"Get sick in there," he pleads, "and not on my mum's brand new carpet. She'll kill me for sure. I may be her only child, but this was purchased in India."
I laugh despite my nausea, which recedes as soon as he mentions dinner, which is supposedly my favorite. Apparently he made food.
I stumble blindly into the kitchen and find myself being led, instead, to their very fancy dining room. I want to take my shoes off so that I don't smudge mud or twigs or whatever is on the bottom of my pumps onto their gorgeous white carpet.
"It's so pretty in here!" I stage whisper, tiptoeing over to a chair and throwing myself into it. I nearly topple over onto the floor again when Cole catches my arm and pulls me back upright.
"This is a bad idea," he informs me. "You're far too drunk to eat a meal, let alone sit up. Oh, by the way, lightweight, we're never drinking together again. Totally unfair for you to get drunk off of three—"
"Five," I interject moodily.
"Alright, five, drinks before I could even finish my first one," he finishes.
"Well, I was nervous!" I exclaim angrily, puffing my hair away from my face. It comes back and settles against my lip gloss. I don't even know why I wear the damn stuff. It only ever gets me into trouble.
"Of what?" he exclaims.
"I didn't want you to think my vagina was gross," I say, gesturing wildly. I knock a wine glass filled with water over and it falls onto the plush carpet. "Oh, fucking arse." I bend down to get it and when I come back up Cole is gazing at me with an odd expression. "What?"
"Repeat why you were nervous," he says, the corners of his mouth twitching.
I open my mouth and then close it. Then I open it again and say in a dignified way, "No."
"Fine. I believe what you said was that you thought I was going to think your vagina was gross," he says, his mouth obviously trying very hard no to curl into an amused smile. "Is that right?"
"I don't remember," I say, my cheeks lighting on fire. "Perhaps," I mumble.
"Why would you be worried that I would think your vagina is gross? I've shagged your vagina loads of times!"
"But you've never seen it up close," I say quickly and promptly blush. I can not believe I just said that to Cole! Oh, and I know he's going to know exactly what I was thinking about, too. In my drunken haze I can see him piecing it together. He gives me a devilish smile that makes me squirm.
"And why would I be seeing your vagina up close?" he asks, inching closer. I fight the urge to jump up and run from the table. With a steadying hand on the table I rise slowly, my knees weak as though injured.
"What do I know?" I snap. "I'm drunk!"
"Did you think we would be…doing stuff like that tonight?" he inquires, coming closer still. His face is only inches from my face. "You know, I wasn't the one who had the problem with it the first time. I don't see why you're so embarrassed!"
"I'm not embarrassed—"
"You're blushing."
"It's a drunken tinge," I retort, my cheeks deepening. "And I know you don't have a problem with that kind of stuff, especially because I'm the only one who does that kind of stuff!"
Cole steps back and glares at me, his cheeks flushing. "I tried before, remember? That time in your room. You kicked me in the face!"
"I was surprised!" I snap, walking around the table. "You could have warned me that was what you were going to be doing!"
"I thought it was pretty clear where I was going with it," he says to me. "And I heard you women tend to like that! Apparently not, seeing as you dislocated my jaw."
"You startled me," I snarl, my cheeks getting redder with every passing second. "I didn't know you would be doing that…"
"Well, surely you're familiar with the process, Roe," he says.
I avoid his gaze and take another reassuring gulp from the firewhiskey that is sitting on the dinner table. There is a long pause.
"Right?" he asks. I don't reply. "Roe—"
"No! Alright? No, I am not familiar with the process!" I bellow at him. "Are you happy?" With my wild gestures I've managed to splash firewhiskey along a portrait on the wall. The man inside hops up instantly and disappears, swearing in a foreign language. "Oh, fuck." I rub at the picture hastily, hoping the paint doesn't smear.
He takes me by the shoulders and spins me around to look at him. I see that his eyes are wide with surprise and horror.
"Didn't you and Michael date for three years?"
"Two and a half," I say. "What's your point?"
"And he never…did that with you?"
"No," I say, frowning slightly. It never seemed like a big deal before, to be perfectly honest. Demi talks about it all the time but she also says lots of things are nice and they aren't. I take what she says with the grain of salt. "What's the big deal?" I snap, coloring.
"It's just…" he breaks off and looks at me helplessly. "Well, it's like a blowjob—"
"Oh, yes. I've had tons of those—"
"I can't describe it if you don't know what it is!" he barks. "It's like sex…only different, I guess. I don't know what it feels like for a girl. I just can't believe you haven't done it yet! I mean you and Michael dated for ages! How selfish could he get?"
"You know, you and I have dated for quite some time and you've never done it to me!" I snarl.
"Right. That's because I was busy putting my jaw back in its rightful place. If you remember you kicked it clear off of my face!"
"For the last time I was surprised!" I bellow with all my might, trying to raise myself to even half his size. I don't manage it, but I think I get the desired effect. It's quite hard to tower under people, but I think I am effective when I need to be. Like now, for instance. We are silent for a moment.
"Let's just eat," Cole says after a moment.
I sit back down in my seat with as much dignity as I can muster, though I am sure once I sober up this is going to be completely mortifying. As it is I am pretty embarrassed. And shitfaced.
Dinner goes by in a complete blur. Probably because, if possible, I've gotten even more drunk just to try and forget our little conversation from earlier. Cole seems to have decided it won't be any fun if he's sober and I'm stumbling around like a toddler, so he in turn drinks a little more, perhaps to acquire a slight buzz. I know for a fact he wasn't as drunk because someone was leading me upstairs.
Once we got into his bedroom I turn to him with a smile on my face as I sway as though on a boat. It's just the amount of liquids in my body that is causing me to think I am on water.
"Sit down," I instruct. I can hear the slur in my voice when a moment of sobriety comes over me. It fades as quickly as it came and all I can concentrate on is Cole and how gorgeous he looks tonight.
He sits on his bed, across from me, dutifully, though with an apprehensive look on his face. I think he can tell I want to do something, and he isn't sure he wants to do it.
"Okay," he says, looking at me expectantly.
"Hold on," I snap, trying to gather my thoughts. "Oh, right." I start swaying as though there is music in the room, though it is all in my head. I reach behind me to unzip my dress and ignore the amused look on Cole's face.
When my dress drops he gives me a sympathetic look. "Roe, stop."
"What? Don't you think I'm sexy?" I ask, though it comes out as shecksy.
"Yes, very much so," he insists, coming to me and placing his hands on my shoulders. "But I can not have sex with you while you're so drunk."
"You don't have to feel guilty—" I begin quickly.
"Oh, I don't. I'm just afraid all that movement is going to make you puke in my bed," he says. "Or on me." I can tell he's kidding.
"I won't puke," I insist. "Let's make love." But, instead it comes out as loooooooove as I stumble over air and nearly land flat on my butt. He catches me and gives me a look to which I push him roughly on the bed. "Stay down."
"Roe—" he says. I reach behind my back and undo my bra as quickly as I can. I start swaying again. I don't even stop to realize that I'm going to have to break up with him in the morning because I will never be able to face this or live this down. He will bring this up for the rest of our lives.
"Oops," I say in my best sexy voice as I toss my bra on his head. I imagine it sounds husky, though I am not quite sure. He picks it off and I notice the still doubtful look on his face. An idea suddenly comes to me and I give him a giant smile, which he seems to take as the last string of my sanity snapping. "Hey, why don't you get more drunk then we'll both be pissed!" He looks at me with a doubtful expression. After a moment he relents.
"Alright," he says and conjures himself another drink.
"Oooh, let me have one—" He slaps my hand.
"If you drink anymore you're going to go into a coma!"
I make a noise that sounds like, "Pssh!" and wave my hand dismissively before stumbling over my mobile feet and falling against the bed. I quickly pick myself up and glance at Cole hopefully.
It is another fifteen minutes before he really starts getting drunk. I realize that I've never seen Cole drunk before. He's just as fun, but there is something to be said about him when he has no idea where he is or who he's with.
"What are you doing?" he asks blearily as I tug his pants down.
"We're going to have sex," I say to him matter-of-factly.
"That's nice," he replies.
"Alright, let's go," I say, settling into the pillows. "C'mon, Cole!"
He slides on top of me and kisses me. His breath smells like firewhiskey, though I'm sure so does mine. We kiss for a few minutes before everything goes completely black.
OoOoOo
The first thing I feel in the morning is pain. Actually, it feels as though my head is going to completely burst into a zillion pieces, splattering the walls with bits of skull and brain. My hands on my forehead are the only things keeping me from dying.
I let out a groan and slide out of bed. I turn to see Cole passed out on his side of the bed on top of the covers, completely naked.
"Cole," I hiss at him, walking around the bed and bending down before standing up right very quickly. I let out a whimper of pain and turn towards my clothes, which are all over the place.
I slide my wand out of my overnight bag and place it against my temple. Cole stirs on the bed as my head slowly begins to clear of pain and fog.
"Oh, that hurts," I hear him mumble against his pillow. I hurry over to him and place my wand against his temple, muttering the spell under my breath. A moment later he picks his head up to look at me. "Hello, my little lightweight. Shall I give you a minute or should I immediately start teasing you?"
"About wha—?" I let out a groan as it all comes rushing back to me. I put my head in my hands and let out another groan.
"I take it its all come back to you?" I don't answer, instead busy myself searching for my knickers. "Oh, c'mon, Roe. I'm just teasing!"
"Yes, yes, and it's very funny," I snap, my cheeks a brilliant shade of red. I find my knickers lying against the carpet by the door and hurriedly pull them up.
"You know, I wouldn't mind a striptease now, now that you're sober," he informs me with a broad smile.
I throw him a dirty look. "Cole," I say, looking back over at him after a moment, "I'm a little embarrassed about last night so if you would just—"
"What is there to be embarrassed about?" he says innocently. "All you did was say you wanted me to give you oral sex and then did a very nice strip tease for me before getting me drunk and then having your dirty way with me."
I gape at him for a moment before pulling on a pair of shorts and a shirt I packed for today. We just planned on hanging around until his parents get here, but I now plan on going home and never seeing him again.
"Where are you going?" he asks, as I pack my things and search for my missing shoe.
"Home. We can't see each other again," I say, locating it by the dresser.
"Oh, come on! All because you got a little drunk?" he asks, getting out of bed and giving me a look. "Hey, it's me." He grabs my shoulders and forces me to look at him. "You don't have to be embarrassed around me."
"Cole, last night was completely embarrassing," I say to him. "If you did half the stuff I did last night you'd be completely embarrassed, too."
"Perhaps," he admits, "but I wouldn't go so far as to break up with you because of it."
"I don't know what got into me," I moan to him. I finally remember what happened after I blacked out, and it wasn't very lady-like, I'll say that much.
"I kind of liked that," he says jokingly. "Don't go. I won't say another word about it ever again. I promise."
"Promise?" I press.
"I promise," he says, taking my hands. "Never again will I utter what happened last night. I can't promise I won't think about it when I need a laugh or a wank." I glare at him.
"Very funny," I say sarcastically.
But, he doesn't utter anything about it for the rest of the day. He actually makes no mention of us even shagging or having dinner last night. I am grateful that he is pretending as though the entire thing never happened.
At four o'clock his parents came unexpectedly. They couldn't have picked a worse time, either. I was wearing only an oversized shirt of Cole's and my grossest, oldest pair of socks that I stole from Dad's collection. They were too big, but nice and comfy, which my feet enjoyed. Oh, did I mention I was dancing like an idiot to one of Cole's records?
I let out a yelp when they came in, wondering if I could make a dash to the stairs before they realized I was sitting in nothing by a giant shirt and socks.
Two hours ago Cole decided we needed to go for a swim in his pool. It was quite nice because I got to wear my new swimsuit, which kept riding up my arse, but still. Afterwards I took a shower and didn't feel like wearing pants, so Cole handed me a giant shirt to wear. I had my knickers on and all, but they didn't know that. They probably thought we were just done shagging and I had come down to dance it off.
"Oh, hello," Mrs. Malfoy says, glancing at me in surprise. "And how are you, Roe?"
"Very well, thank you," I say, trying to tug Cole's shirt further down. "How are you?"
"Fine."
"How was your trip?"
"Delightful…"
"Cole," Mr. Malfoy calls imploringly. "My dear son, where are you? Your mother and I are home so put on your pants if need be." He gives me an awkward smile before hurrying to search for Cole.
I turn towards Mrs. Malfoy, to see her glancing at me in a weird way. I was almost sure it was in a very bad way. The kind of way that would soon let me know she didn't think I was any good for her son, or something. Instead she lets a small smile grace her face before saying, "You have lovely cheekbones."
"Oh, thank you," I say, touching them gently.
"I'm going to inform the house-elves that we're home. It will give them a chance to get dinner ready, which should be in a couple of hours." She gives me one last smile before walking past me towards the kitchen. I let out a sigh of relief that is cut short when I hear, "Oh, and Roe, darling?"
"Yes?"
"Pants would be appreciated." She disappears leaving me standing in her living room with a very red face.
Cole hurries into the living room and lets out a groan of horror when he realizes I didn't make it upstairs in time. He did, luckily.
"Great, now my parents know we have sex," he informs me.
"What?" I hiss, hurrying over to him. "Why do they know we have sex?"
"You're in nothing but my shirt and my dad caught me putting my pants on!" Cole snaps. "I didn't walk up to him and tell him we did, I think he pretty much assumed that's what we were doing."
"You couldn't have denied it?" I ask angrily.
"Sure," he says sarcastically. "He really would have believed that." He gives me a look. "What purpose would that have served?"
"This was a bad idea," I tell him. "Last night and tonight was a bad idea! Nothing good has come from this sleepover!"
"It isn't so bad," he says.
"Your parents know we have sex," I say to him.
"My parents have known that I've been having sex for a while," he tells me. "My mother walked in on me."
"She didn't walk in on us!"
"Alright, so you aren't making the greatest second impression, but if you go put some pants on I'm sure she can overlook the fact that you were just in a shirt in her living room with her only son."
"Right," I say and hurry up the stairs two at a time. As soon as I get into Cole's room I close the door over and hurry towards my overnight bag. The dress I had especially for tonight is still laying at the bottom with the wrinkle-free spell Mum taught me still working. I had to tell Mum that I was going out to a fancy dinner with Demi and Frank.
I quickly slide the dress up until I'm snuggly shoved into it. I hastily zip it up and then run my fingers through my hair trying to make it look presentable.
My mood was completely awful. I was sure I had blown the entire thing, but funnily enough his parents seemed to love me! Even Cole seemed a little surprised at how warmly they were taking to me. They didn't mention what they saw in the living room and I sure as hell didn't bring it up.
"So, Roe, if you don't mind me asking, what is it that your parents do?" Mr. Malfoy asks as we are about to start our main course.
I glance up at Cole fearfully for a moment before clearing my throat. "They're Unspeakables," I say to him. Though he caught me off-guard, this was a planned story that Cole and I came up with today. Usually wizards didn't know exactly who was an Unspeakable because what they did was…well, unspeakable. So, really, if the Malfoy's have never heard of my fake family, then even better for me.
"Oh," Pansy replies excitedly. "Both your mother and your father?"
"Yes," I reply.
"Do you have any siblings?" Draco asks.
"An older brother and sister," I say. Regardless, it's still safe to say. How many people in the world have an older brother and sister? It isn't as though my parent's were the only ones who had a girl and a boy then another girl.
"Are they working in the Ministry?" Pansy asks.
"Yes," I say. "They're going to be Unspeakables."
"Oh," Draco says, exchanging a look with his wife. "What did you say their names were?"
"Dennis and…" I can not, for some reason think of another female name. My brain fart has spread and all I can think of is the name Roe. Of all names in the world, millions of plausible female names I could not think of one besides Roe. "…Maureen," I say eventually. What felt like a year was really only fifteen seconds, but still. I must have looked like a complete spaz that I couldn't remember my sister's name!
"And is your name a nickname for something?" Pansy asks.
"Yes," I reply. "Rose." I don't add the Mary. It's too risky.
"Very pretty," she says. "I prefer flower names for girls. If Cole was a girl he was going to be Iris."
"That's a pretty name," I say conversationally.
The rest of the night goes one with a little small talk, but no uncomfortable silences, which is good. Pansy Malfoy actually asked me to "assist" her in the kitchen (which was really just me sitting next to her as she watched the house-elves work and grilled me). She wanted to know how long we have been dating, when we met, etc. I told her all I could before I got a bit uncomfortable.
Finally, Cole came and found us and announced that it was time for me to get going. He wanted to take me for a walk before I Apparated home, so I said goodbye to his parents at the front door.
"You must come again," Pansy said. "We so enjoyed having you here."
In the kitchen she also confided to me that Cole talks about me all the time. She also wanted to know if I was the same Roe from a few of his earlier Hogwarts stories. I blushingly admitted I was.
"That was an interesting night," Cole says as we walk down the dark path towards the lake. As we get around the giant tree the moonlight bursts across the yard. "My parents took to you well, though, wouldn't you say?"
I turn to him with a broad smile. "You like me," I say.
"Of course I do!"
"No, you really like me." I smile at him. "You talk about me all the time, says your mother. You've been talking about me since First Year." I don't need the moonlight to tell me Cole's blushing.
"Goodnight," he says, attempting to hurry past me. I grab his arm.
"Oh, I'm just teasing!" I say, kissing him. "I think it's very sweet."
"I think I need to have a talk with my mother."
"I also think it's very sexy," I say to him.
"Oh? And not shecksy?" He smirks.
I hit his arm. "No, sexy." I kiss him again. "Very sexy." We kiss again. "Oh, darn. I have to get home. Too bad. I was going to shag you on this very shore, but it's late and my parents will wonder where I am. Another time?"
"Count on it," he says, kissing me again. "You'll owl me and let me know?"
"Most definitely," I say, kissing him. After a moment I hoist myself up and wrap my legs around his body. "Okay, now I have to go." He puts me down and I kiss him one last time.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
We smile at each other as I leave.
OoOoOo
When I get home Mum and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table going over something or other. I notice there are a few people gathered around the outside of the house.
"What are they doing out there?" I ask, peering out the window. A flashbulb nearly blinds me and I stumble back to the table where Mum leaps up to close the drapes.
"Fucking reporters here for my fucking birthday tomorrow where I turn fucking forty," Dad snarls.
"Looking forward to it, are we?" I ask sarcastically.
"Oh, please don't," Mum breathes in my air as I get towards the stairs. She grips onto my arm. "He's depressed as it is!"
"He's only going to be forty!" I exclaim.
"He's just a little depressed, so please, whatever you do, don't tease him or make a big deal about this."
"I wont, I wont," I say, rolling my eyes.
"I mean it, Rosemary. This is your one and only warning," she says in a low voice.
"What do you think I'm going to do? Tell him his life is over just because he's now completely old and rotted?" I snap.
"I can hear everything you're saying, you two! Your voices aren't even lowered!" Dad calls from across the room. Mum and I turn to look at him. "Ginny, I'm fine with turning forty. Really, I'm alright with it. It was coming eventually."
"I know you're alright with it," Mum says, going to him and putting her hands on his shoulders. "I just don't want you to be upset tomorrow during your party." She kisses the top of his head. "Just think that this September Hermione's going to be forty-one."
"Thank you. That does cheer me up some," Dad says, turning his head to kiss her. I watch them with a small smile on my face. If I hadn't just spent nearly forty-eight hours with my boyfriend, I might miss him some.
"I'm going up to bed," I say to them. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, love," Dad says, turning to me with a smile. "Oh, how was Demi's?"
"Fun," I say to him. "As always."
I head up the stairs and bump right into my sister, who was coming down to the kitchen to say goodnight to our parents. Right behind her is my brother who is no doubt looking for a snack. I avoid his gaze, as I've been doing since the other day. We haven't even spoken since then.
"Oh, Roe! Good, there you are. Listen, I know I said we'd go and look for Dad's present together, but I went today and got one already. I hope that's okay?"
"Yeah, sure," I say. "I'll just go tomorrow before Dad's party."
"See, James! I told you she'd be going. You two can go together, then!" she says enthusiastically. "This works out perfectly."
I glare at Elizabeth, though I know it isn't really her fault. She didn't know we weren't speaking, I think. If she did and this is an attempt to get us to talk to each other again it isn't going to work. James and I can go for up to a year without talking, just pointing and grunting. We aren't the type of siblings that thrive on intimate conversations. Sure, I would prefer that we were talking because he is a laugh when he isn't shagging some poor girl or lecturing me in a hypocritical way, but I don't need to talk to him.
"What do you say?" she turns to James, who shifts awkwardly. Elizabeth punches his arm really hard. "James."
"I say…great," he says through clenched teeth, glaring at her. He turns to me and I fight the urge to look away. "Wake me up early?"
"Fine," I reply coldly.
"Great." He pushes past us and heads down the stairs.
Elizabeth clucks her tongue and looks at me with raised eyebrows. "Now, why aren't you talking again?" she asks curiously. "You two never fight!"
"We always fight."
"You never fight like this, though," she reminds me. "He's pretty pissed at you about something, Roe. Maybe you should apologize."
"Maybe you should bite me," I reply hotly. "Mind your own damn business, Elizabeth!"
"All I'm saying," she continues as though I haven't yelled at her, "is that you two are siblings and siblings should share everything with one another."
Like where you sleep at night? I think to myself, but hold my tongue. I could have said it to her, but it is much more fun to find out on my own and then blackmail her with it later. I am thinking I can get her to move out or get fat if I could just find out who it was. Perhaps it isn't even with someone. Maybe she's in a cult and she's sleeping at their nest or den or whatever the hell they have where they all gather and chant. That might even be better then a hidden boyfriend.
Though, I could figure out how Mum and Dad handle her sleeping around with a hidden boyfriend. If they take it badly then I'll never, ever tell them about Cole. However, if they are supportive and whatnot, then maybe I'll slip it in that I, too, have been seeing someone secretly. Cole's last name might have to change to something a little less intimidating than Malfoy, though. Smith, maybe. Or Donaldson. Basically anything that isn't Malfoy…or Weasley…or Potter.
"Right, well, thank you, Elizabeth, for that uplifting message. I'll store that somewhere special." I give her a sarcastic smile and go past her towards my lovely bedroom. All I want to do is collapse into bed. I got no sleep last night; instead I made a fool out of myself.
The only bright spot that happened is that Cole's parents are in love with me. I can totally tell they are way into me. Which is good, because in a couple of…er, years, when Cole and I are far more serious we'll have to tell them that their little Rose No-Last-Name is really Rosemary Potter. That'll go over very nice, I imagine. There will be a good amount of alcohol, obviously, to cushion the blow of who I really am. Perhaps I'll tell my parents the same night I tell his parents.
My bed is so inviting and cozy that, for the first time, I slide under the covers and close my eyes. Cole's habits are starting to rub off on me, though thankfully not some of the more annoying ones like bed hogging.
OoOoOo
My alarm, which I set for seven-thirty, begins blaring loudly and wildly. I hit the snooze button and attempt to go back to sleep before it barks, "Get up, you lazy bum! Get up! Get up!"
"Alright!" I snap at it and turn it completely off. I am half tempted to fall back asleep, but I know I need to shower, do my hair, brush my teeth, get dressed and find a present for Dad before noon. Oh! And wake James. Almost forgot him. That would have been quite irritating for him, which is a bonus for me, but I don't want him to look like the cheap bastard he is without a present today.
After I yank my hair into a ponytail, put some shorts and a shirt on and tug some sneakers on it is already eight. I needed the extra half an hour to fully wake up and get going. The shops in Diagon Alley open at eight-thirty, and I do want an early start.
I hurry down the hall to James's room. I throw the door open, foregoing knocking, and keep my eyes clenched tightly shut. I don't know what I expected to see, perhaps a donkey and someone strung up by their toes with a red ball in their mouth, but when no cry of outrage or neighing comes, I open my eyes to see him sleeping peacefully in bed.
A sigh or relief, which is putting it lightly, escapes my mouth as I close the door over and walk towards the bed cautiously. As I am never in his room I do not know if there are, like Elizabeth's might have, boobytraps, and I don't want to find myself in some sex dungeon a hundred feet under the house with some Fifth-Year he convinced to come up to his room.
"James," I say in his ear. "Wake up. We should get going. The shops open in half an hour." He doesn't stir, though I didn't think he would. I nudge his bare shoulder with my pointer finger, and still he doesn't stir. "James!"
I slap his shoulder a few times, to which he slumbers through. I then take to shaking him roughly, which he also sleeps through.
Finally, I say to him, "James, I'm going to throw back the covers and drag you from bed if I have to!"
"Fine, but I should warn you I'm not wearing anything," he mumbles into his pillow while I instantly leap back with a cry of disgust.
"You are so disgusting!" I snap.
He sits up, carefully keeping the comforter wrapped around him as he wipes the sleep from his eyes. His eyes meet mine and he frowns slightly.
"What time is it?"
"Eight."
He groans and falls back against the pillows. "Eight?" he cries. "I haven't seen eight o'clock in two years!" James usually doesn't leave for work until eleven. I don't know what training program he's been put on but it allows him to drink all night, wake up at ten, come home at four and then repeat the circle.
"Well, the shops open in half an hour and we need to get Dad something before the party! What if it takes us that long to find something to get him?" I reason. "Then you'll thank me for bringing us out early enough so we aren't late!"
"I guess you're right," he snaps. He sits up and blinks rapidly.
"Are you going to get dressed?"
"With you standing there?" he barks.
"Oh, right. I'll wait outside. Hurry, though." I open the door and step into the hallway. "And don't," I warn, "fall back asleep."
He gives me a look and waves his hand as I close the door over. It takes him about fifteen minutes to get ready, in which time I'm pacing up and down, skipping up and down the hall, and attempting a cartwheel, which nearly broke Mum's favorite vase. After I tired of moving I plopped down on the carpet and started at his door, willing it to open.
When it finally did, he came out looking as he usually did with his hair a complete mess and clothes slightly frumpled. I stood up and smooth my shorts down.
"Okay, let's get this over with," James mumbles and extends his hand to me. I glance at it. I didn't realize I might have had disgust on my face until he snaps, "Fine. You can Apparate yourself, you snob."
"I will," I reply coldly. "Try and aim for the Leaky Cauldron, please."
"Will do, mother," he replies sarcastically and leaves with a crack. I glare at the piece of carpeting he recently vacating, hoping all my negative energy made him splint.
However, once I get outside the Leaky Cauldron I see that James is standing waiting for me impatiently.
"Well, that only took you ten minutes!" he snaps as soon as I get there. "What were you doing?"
"I had to pee." He glowers at me. "What? I can't Apparate when I have to pee, James, or I'll end up in a river or something."
"Let's just…get going, shall we?"
We walk along the streets in complete awkward silence. It seems that all we have to say to each other is mean, hurtful things, which we are both trying hard not to do. I don't want him telling me he thinks I'm a slut and I'm sure he doesn't want to hear the same from me so early in the morning.
"Do you know what we should get Dad?" James asks after ten minutes of strolling aimlessly up and down the streets. I shrug. "Did you have anything particular in mind?" I shrug again. "If I wasn't here what did you plan on getting him with Elizabeth?" I shrug for a third time. "Can you please stop shrugging?" I shrug and we go along for nearly an hour in silence. In which time the streets have become mildly crowded with eager shoppers hoping to get the shopping done before the heat comes in full swing.
"Oh, look!" I say excitedly, grabbing his arm.
"What?"
"A Harry Potter Birthday Special!" I exclaim in delight. "We should go in and get something for him!"
"As if he wants knickers with his face on them," James snaps.
"It'll be fun, novelty stuff. We'll get him something else, something bigger, obviously, but this will be fun stuff."
"How about we come back if we don't see anything else," James suggests and we head off again. "I hope you brought money. I don't want to spend my whole lot and just have you sign the card."
I gape at him. Finally, I find my voice. "James, last year for my birthday you gave me an I.O.U. I'm still waiting for that hug, by the way. No, don't touch me," I snap as he moves to hug me. He smirks and moves away from me, his goal obviously reached. "Bastard," I mumble under my breath as we make our way around the corner.
"I have no idea what to get Dad," James admits some ten minutes later.
"Maybe he needs a hug," I say snottily, pushing some loose hairs back from my face.
"You know, if I wanted to go shopping with a snotty, moody, pms-ing bitch, I would have brought Elizabeth," he says.
"That's a very nice thing to say about our sister," I retort, though I would have been thinking the same thing. It's nice to know that at least I'm not the only one who thinks Elizabeth can be and usually is a bitch. "Oh," I say angrily, "and me!"
I catch James rolling his eyes and let out a giant sigh. This entire thing is a huge disappointment, to say the least. Not only that but James and I are getting dangerously on each other's nerves. This is not going to end well, I can already tell.
"What about a book?" James suggests.
"No."
"A new broom?"
"No."
"What about—"
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to say!"
"I bet it was stupid," I reply instantly. "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."
"No."
"You're only saying no because I just said no a second ago," I snap.
"So?"
"You're not hungry?" I ask skeptically. "The boy who binged through the flu. You're really not hungry?"
"Nope."
"Well, I am." I walk across the street towards the small little café. I am half expecting James to stomp on along the road where I'll have to frantically search to find him in twenty minutes. However, I find him by my side a second later, treading on the back of my foot as I make my way into the small café. "Watch it!" I bark, kicking my foot up to rub the back of it.
"Sorry," he mumbles, pushing me along until we get to the counter. He eyes the girl behind the counter with a broad smile before glancing down at what they half to offer behind the glass display.
"Um, I'll have a chocolate chip muffin and a peach iced-tea," I say to the girl, who seems to be studying the top of James's bent head. My eyes flick from her to him to her again before I ball my hand into a fist and hit his arm.
"Oh, and I'll have…the same, thanks," he says, giving the giggling girl what I guess must be a sexy smile. It makes me want to vomit, so I'm sure that's what it is.
We wait at the counter for a moment before she slides our food along on trays that we take to a nearby table. All the while she's staring wistfully at James as we take our seats. She actually glares at me once or twice and I have the strongest urge to tell her we're brother and sister privately and then start smoothing James's hair down and fawning all over him so she gets grossed out and tells the world James Potter is a pervert.
"These are good," he says, gesturing to the muffin. I make a noncommittal noise in my throat and rip off a giant chunk of muffin, which I eagerly chew down. "I think I'm going to get another one."
"Shocking," I mumble as he gets up to go get another muffin from what I hope is an of-age girl. I should probably mention that he's already done with his muffin and I've only had a few bites. And these aren't those little mini muffins, either. These are the big, plate-sized muffins.
I glance up at the counter to see James and the girl talking. She glances at me a couple of times before leaning in closer to James and saying something. He turns to look at me, turns back to her and laughs. Then he says something and her face instantly clears up. If possible she gets even more flustered and giggly.
I roll my eyes and take a giant sip of my tea as James takes his seat across from me, a smile plastered on his face.
"What are you so happy about?" I growl.
"I have a date for this Friday night," he replies.
"How old is she? Twelve?"
"Seventeen," he replies. "She thought you were my girlfriend."
I begin coughing on my muffin. "That's ridiculous!" I cry.
"Right. I would never date someone like you!"
"Exactly—Wait, what?"
"What?"
"What do you mean, you would never date someone like me? What's the matter with me?" I raise my eyebrows at him. "Am I not pretty enough? Or am I not funny enough? I sure as hell know it isn't my intelligence that would be a factor."
"Roe, do you hear yourself?" James says to me, lowering his voice. "Do you forget that you're my sister?"
"Of course I know I'm your sister!" I snap. "Just tell me. What's so wrong with me that you wouldn't date me?"
"Besides the fact we share parents? Um, you're crazy!"
"I. Am. Not!" I cry.
"Uh, yeah, just a bit," he says.
"I may be crazy, but—"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore!" James snaps. "I'm getting very uncomfortable with this whole conversation."
"Fine," I say moodily. I pick at my muffin for a moment before I feel James's eyes on me. I glance up at him. "What?" I snarl.
"Nothing," he replies. "What the hell crawled up your arse?"
"Oh, nothing really," I say. I do not tell him that him yelling at me the other day is doing nothing else but driving me completely bonkers. I am so insulted and humiliated that he yelled at me like that and all I want to do is take my bottle of crappy tea and smack him over the head with it.
And it isn't even his scolding that is causing me to get angry. He also knows what Elizabeth is doing and he won't tell me what it is exactly! We both know she's not sleeping at home anymore, but he knows with who and where and won't tell me! I tell him almost everything in a kind of truthful manner and for him to completely disrespect me like this is totally—
"Is it because I said wouldn't date you?"
"No!" I snarl forcefully.
"Then what is it? You've been pissed at me for three days!"
"James, do you remember when you were fourteen and you broke that gorgeous serving platter Mum and Dad got for a wedding present?" I ask.
He nods.
"Do you remember how hard you tried to glue it back together so it looked sort of like it did when they got it?"
He nods again.
"And do you remember what happened when they found out it was broken?"
He nods again.
"I took the blame for you. I said I was the one that broke it and you were trying to cover for me by gluing it back together."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that I do that kind of stuff all the time. I never make you feel guilty if I have to make up a story for you or pretend you're somewhere you aren't. I've been doing it since I was four, actually. And I'm pissed because you had to do it once and suddenly you're not alright with it."
"Roe, that's because I was never sneaking around," he says. "I tell you exactly where I'm going and what I'll be doing and it's always you that decides to make up some elaborate story."
"You would rather me tell Mum you and Alice are shagging upstairs instead of hanging with David down by the lake?"
"Sometimes," he admits. "It would make it so much more easier for me sometimes. You know, sometimes I think Mum still thinks I'm a virgin."
"James, I don't think Mum has thought you were a virgin since you discovered Playwitch in Fourth Year. I don't think she knows what a perverted slut you are, but I don't think she thinks you're a virgin."
"That's encouraging," he says jokingly. He suddenly becomes serious. "I know how Mum and Dad can be. Believe me; no one knows more than me how they can get sometimes. But do you really think sneaking around behind their backs is going to make it any easier?"
I lower my head and feel my heartbeat quicken as it always does at the mere suggestion of Cole.
"They were so involved with Michael," I say finally. "I just want to be with who I'm with without everyone's involvement all the time."
"I understand that," he replies. "But I think perhaps they would respect you more if you told them you were dating someone."
"Okay, can you tell them you and Alice have casual sex?" I ask in a perky voice. "Or that your most serious relationship is with yourself?"
"Fine," he snaps. "You don't have to take my advice, but I think when they find out you've been sneaking around their backs they're going to be pissed."
"Well, why don't you flit that information on over to Elizabeth," I say.
"I've tried," James mutters and then looks up at me quickly. "How do you—"
"I just do," I say. "I know she isn't sleeping at home. Who is she sleeping with then, might I ask?"
"I don't know," he replies. "She isn't saying and I've decided to keep my nose out of her business and dive right into yours."
"I'm touched," I say sarcastically. At this point I've finished my muffin and tea. "Let's go get Dad a present. If we don't hurry I'm afraid the only thing we're going to be able to get him is a hug and knickers with his face on the crotch."
"He might actually like those," James says as we start off down the street.
Finally, we find a present. I'm sure Dad will like it very much, as he had been staring at it the last time we came to Diagon Alley. It's a really gorgeous chess set that he said he would like to get.
"Are you sure he wants this?" James asks doubtfully.
"Positive," I reply.
"Does this mean we're going to have to play with him?" James asks moodily as I pay for it.
"Yes. What is that? Twenty minutes of your time?" I snap. I hand him the bag and we set off down the street. "What time is it?"
"Eleven," he replies.
"Well, let's see. We can go and help set up…or, we can stay here for another hour and let Elizabeth do it all by herself."
"I very much like that idea," James says, sitting himself on a bench in a shaded part of the street. He spreads his legs out and lets his head hang back. "So," James says as we sit in awkward silence. "How did you meet your mystery man?"
I stiffen and give a small cough. "You know, I really don't want to talk about him."
"Right, of course," James says. A moment later, "Are you embarrassed by him?"
"What? No! I just don't want to talk about him with you, that's all."
"With me?"
"Yes, with you," I snap. "You know, your judgmental type."
"My judgmental type?" James asks, eyebrows raised. "You think I'm judgmental?"
"Very. I can't stand your type of people. Judgmental people are so not my type."
"No, Malfoys are, apparently."
A/N Sorry for the wait! I get writer's block in waves. Sometimes I can sit down and write twenty pages and sometimes I can't get past the first page. Once I get past the ten page mark I usually get into the swing of things.
Okay, well, hope you enjoy and the next chapter is coming probably next week or so.