No, Katherine, of course you're not being nitpicky! I needed that. I f anyone finds errors like that, please let me know. I went back and corrected the pub name in chapter nine. If I have to hear anyone else criticize this story due to the main character being a "pathetic Mary Sue," or a "F****** Mary Sue," or any other form of that comment, I'm going to chuck my computer out the window and go back to chiseling my stories with pictures on a stone tablet. I though that we had left the Stone Age, left the dark ages. Women can be Girly if they wish to, and my character obviously does. Sorry, but that is just the way that I feel about this. I pour out everything into writing this, and I'm being ragged on (in a rather inappropriate fashion, at some times) about things that don't even matter, my apologies if you are offended by a girly girl, but I'm sure that Mary Sue is also offended. =P ... So anywayz, now that I'm done rambling, Kitty Minky, it's not like it's my idea (I didn't steal it or anything though) it's just an idea and anybody could think of it. So write something, and as soon as you have it up I'll R&R. But now I need to get down to writing. I just finished my last two chapters, but I have had a really depressing day and need to write. Only problem being that I don't have enough time.
It's a Date
"Hey 'Manda," a groggy voice confronted her first thing Tuesday morning, "Just what were you and Harry up to late, late last night?"
"No need to be repetitive, Hermione," Amanda grinned dreamily, "Absolutely nothing, if you really must know."
Hermione's jaw dropped about an inch, "Amanda?"
It hit her. "No Hermione! Why do you have think that way! Just because I don't feel the need to tell you in detail what we did last night doesn't mean," Amanda realized that she had been yelling. She waited for the heads of the other Gryffindors in the common room to turn back to whatever they were doing before, "well," she whispered," doesn't mean that we did it."
"Er, of course – of course that's not – not what I meant, Amanda," Hermione was burning up, "I was just, um, wondering what you – what you guys were up to, that's all, " she almost tripped over the desk behind her, "I had –I had better go and get – get dressed now. I'll see you at breakfast."
"Yeah, I know you were all listening," Amanda addressed the room full of people, "just ignore what you heard." But by that afternoon, rumors were spreading like a wildfire all over the castle. Harry and Amanda decided that it was best not to be seen in public together. Too many people were taking this whole affair the wrong way. But if Amanda found avoiding Harry rough, not avoiding Oliver was worse. He was just beginning to seem civil to her. Now, though, he refused to make eye contact, and started to go red each time Amanda's name was mentioned.
Harry, the note Amanda passed him at dinner that night said, what about the dance? Are we going to be able to survive? It's this Friday, you know.
Of course we could survive, he replied, the question being, "do we really care?"
No. We don't.
Good, so meet me at the entrance hall at 8 pm sharp on Friday.
Alrighty then. So until Friday (unfortunately) I guess.
Wednesday and Thursday passed by quicker than any two days had before in Amanda's life. Friday morning's classes, though, dragged on forever.
"Darling Amanda," Professor Trelawney approached her in her usual airy manner an hour and a half into class, "I see abstention in your future."
The next thing the class heard was a torrent of swear words as Amanda swung her book bag up onto the table, stuffed her things back inside, and stormed out of the class. Now she would have all day to get ready for the dance.
Amanda was ready by 7 o'clock. She had used special potions for manageability before charming her hair up into a beautiful work of art on the top of her head. Invisible bobby pins held it tightly in place. It was perfect. She slid into her dress. It was perfect too. She stood in front of the mirror to apply makeup. She never had before. She applied a foundation, then blush, powder, mascara, and lipstick. She turned to look at herself in the mirror. Who's there? She called as she spotted an unfamiliar face in the mirror. Her heart stopped. It wasn't her. It wasn't beautiful either. Oh well, she thought, looking out the window over the fresh snow to spot Ginny and her brothers caught up in a violent snow ball fight, I'll go ask her. She slipped back out of her dress, hid it away again, put on her school robes and boots, and made her way out to the snowy lawn.
"Ginny!"
"Whoa. You look… different?"
"So you don't like it."
"…"
"Me neither. I'll go take it off."
"Hey! Weasley!" It was Draco Malfoy. Draco was a Slytherin that Amanda only knew by name, but the words uttered under the Weasley's breath made it apparent that that was who it was. "And the half breed besides."
"Hello, Draco," Amanda said congenially, hiding the shock that he knew her name, "fancy seeing you out here. Don't you need to be getting ready for your dance?" she feigned concern, "Your date will be upset if you're not super hot tonight." A date which Amanda knew did not exist.
Draco snatched up a fistful of snow and smashed it into Amanda's face. "Damn half breed'll look better once she's –"he stopped. Amanda caught on quickly. The makeup, she realized. It must've come off!"
"Thanks, Malfoy. And smoochles." With that she mockingly blew him a kiss and hurried back up to the castle. She needed to finish getting ready now.
It's a Date
"Hey 'Manda," a groggy voice confronted her first thing Tuesday morning, "Just what were you and Harry up to late, late last night?"
"No need to be repetitive, Hermione," Amanda grinned dreamily, "Absolutely nothing, if you really must know."
Hermione's jaw dropped about an inch, "Amanda?"
It hit her. "No Hermione! Why do you have think that way! Just because I don't feel the need to tell you in detail what we did last night doesn't mean," Amanda realized that she had been yelling. She waited for the heads of the other Gryffindors in the common room to turn back to whatever they were doing before, "well," she whispered," doesn't mean that we did it."
"Er, of course – of course that's not – not what I meant, Amanda," Hermione was burning up, "I was just, um, wondering what you – what you guys were up to, that's all, " she almost tripped over the desk behind her, "I had –I had better go and get – get dressed now. I'll see you at breakfast."
"Yeah, I know you were all listening," Amanda addressed the room full of people, "just ignore what you heard." But by that afternoon, rumors were spreading like a wildfire all over the castle. Harry and Amanda decided that it was best not to be seen in public together. Too many people were taking this whole affair the wrong way. But if Amanda found avoiding Harry rough, not avoiding Oliver was worse. He was just beginning to seem civil to her. Now, though, he refused to make eye contact, and started to go red each time Amanda's name was mentioned.
Harry, the note Amanda passed him at dinner that night said, what about the dance? Are we going to be able to survive? It's this Friday, you know.
Of course we could survive, he replied, the question being, "do we really care?"
No. We don't.
Good, so meet me at the entrance hall at 8 pm sharp on Friday.
Alrighty then. So until Friday (unfortunately) I guess.
Wednesday and Thursday passed by quicker than any two days had before in Amanda's life. Friday morning's classes, though, dragged on forever.
"Darling Amanda," Professor Trelawney approached her in her usual airy manner an hour and a half into class, "I see abstention in your future."
The next thing the class heard was a torrent of swear words as Amanda swung her book bag up onto the table, stuffed her things back inside, and stormed out of the class. Now she would have all day to get ready for the dance.
Amanda was ready by 7 o'clock. She had used special potions for manageability before charming her hair up into a beautiful work of art on the top of her head. Invisible bobby pins held it tightly in place. It was perfect. She slid into her dress. It was perfect too. She stood in front of the mirror to apply makeup. She never had before. She applied a foundation, then blush, powder, mascara, and lipstick. She turned to look at herself in the mirror. Who's there? She called as she spotted an unfamiliar face in the mirror. Her heart stopped. It wasn't her. It wasn't beautiful either. Oh well, she thought, looking out the window over the fresh snow to spot Ginny and her brothers caught up in a violent snow ball fight, I'll go ask her. She slipped back out of her dress, hid it away again, put on her school robes and boots, and made her way out to the snowy lawn.
"Ginny!"
"Whoa. You look… different?"
"So you don't like it."
"…"
"Me neither. I'll go take it off."
"Hey! Weasley!" It was Draco Malfoy. Draco was a Slytherin that Amanda only knew by name, but the words uttered under the Weasley's breath made it apparent that that was who it was. "And the half breed besides."
"Hello, Draco," Amanda said congenially, hiding the shock that he knew her name, "fancy seeing you out here. Don't you need to be getting ready for your dance?" she feigned concern, "Your date will be upset if you're not super hot tonight." A date which Amanda knew did not exist.
Draco snatched up a fistful of snow and smashed it into Amanda's face. "Damn half breed'll look better once she's –"he stopped. Amanda caught on quickly. The makeup, she realized. It must've come off!"
"Thanks, Malfoy. And smoochles." With that she mockingly blew him a kiss and hurried back up to the castle. She needed to finish getting ready now.