Harry
Potter and Something or Other
Chapter
Five
Let's
Get Physical
Author's Note: Today is a
day of morning. Wait, mourning,
sorry. Most days have mornings, am
I right? I say most, because I'm
generally not awake for mornings, so … you know. It's sort of a myth over at my
house. The sun comes up. Ha. Anyway, it's a day of mourning. It's also a day of explanations. The Harry Potter world doesn't mention
anything about computers, in fact, computers don't work within the walls of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And have you ever wondered why? Because when Windows corrupts for the
fifteenth time in one day, you don't want anyone capable of blowing up a small
village to be using that system. If
the Harry Potter world did, in fact, have computers, Bill Gates would be a
bouncing white ferret by now. Let
me tell you.
And as such, we have lost a substantial amount of our story. Yes, I'm sure all the fans out there
were wondering what was taking us so long. Well, we had an epic. It
rivaled the Iliad. (Who's taking a
course in Greek mythology now?! Ha!) Really it did, it was
probably one of the most fantastic pieces of literature ever compiled. But it's gone now. All twenty seven chapters we wrote are
gone.
Nah, we're lying our lazy asses off. We wrote one author's note. (Yes, four months produced one author's
note.) But it was a really good
author's note, because we had this character named Magnificent Malificent, and
she was an exchange student from
Anyway, these author's notes are getting really ridiculous, and it has,
actually, been four months, so it would really be best to get to the story. Except that there's one other thing we
have to rant about. In Chapter Four
(Wrath of the Pickleweasel – do you feel cheated, there was no actual
pickelweasel. I, for one, feel
used. But that's just because I'm
having Snape fantasies. BWA HA
HA!!!) we mentioned … shite. Fausta
just informed me that Chapter Four was 'It Tastes Like Chicken', which I now
remember, because we made you poor saps lick the screen. (There's still a little bit of
moisture.) Anyway, Chapter Four -
whatever the hell it was called - we had a contest. The 'name Professor Bob' contest. Or was that in Chapter Three? Well shite Fausta. You could point this out before I make
an arse of myself. Note how I don't
delete anything in this conversation. I am the Queen of Arse. Anyway, CHAPTER THREE FOR GAWD'S SAKE JUST GET IT OVER WITH – we had the
'name Professor Bob' contest. That
contest resulted from this conversation:
"So Astrid's not allowed in Dueling, eh?"
"Yeh, because of some … mishaps."
"Mishaps."
"You know Astrid."
"I wish I didn't."
"Gerrof."
"Hee hee. You're
Canadian."
"I can say 'gerrof' if I wanna. I don't have to be English."
"This isn't how the conversation went."
"So I'm embellishing a little. It was pretty dry."
"None of our conversations are ever dry."
"Mwe hee hee."
"What the hell was that?"
"You know … like 'mwa ha ha', only slightly less
maniacal."
"I can't believe you delineate between the two."
"Why not?"
"Back to the matter at hand?"
"Right. Astrid can't take
Dueling, so what should she take?"
"Um … they're both taking Care of Magical Creatures,
right?"
"MWA HA HA!"
"Much better. Arithmancy?"
" … yeh. Astrid in
Arithmancy."
"Right, right. Divination?"
"She's probably barred from that too."
"How's that?"
"She got too gruesome."
"Too gruesome for Trewlaney?"
"Don't tempt me."
"Muggle Studies?"
"SWEET! She wouldn't have to
do anything! Coasty
coasty!"
"Coasty coasty? What, are
you
"Ah, right, screw you."
"Bu—uddy!"
"Eew."
"We need a name for the Muggle Studies Professor."
"
"Oh Christ."
"Professor Jesus?"
"Don't do that."
"Um … should a Slytherin be taking Muggle Studies?"
*both giggle*
"Come on, we need a name."
"Professor Muggle?"
"You're an idiot."
"Fine. Screw
you."
"Humph."
"Professor Eichmann?"
"We did that already."
"There could be two!! That'd be trippy!"
"I'm never asking your help on anything ever
again."
"Professor Bob."
"Professor Bob?"
"Yeh. Like 'yo, whassup
Professor Bob?' And Professor Bob's
like 'I be down with that, mah homey!' And I'm like 'we be chillin'. And he's like – "
"STOPIT!!!!"
"Okay. Professor
Schnitzle?"
"Bob, Bob, Professor Bob."
"He could have a theme song! Like – "
"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"
And thus Professor Bob was born. Of course, the name Professor Bob isn't much better than Professor
Schnitzle, which I am still vying for. Shut up, Fausta, it's a rockin' name! Anyway, we had a contest, in which you
could win a pony if you could give Bob Bob a better name than Bob Bob. (Or Robert Bob if you want to get
formal.) Please note that the pony
was subject to unponyness – DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER COVERING OUR ASSES
DISCLAIMER!!! We thought this would
be a great idea. Send someone a
picture of a stick pony, drawn by yours truly, Astrid, and have a few
laughs.
The laughs never began. No
one entered our contest. For
shame.
For shame.
And now, without further ado, we proudly bring to you, Chapter Five!
(whew, I thought that would never end.)
Chapter
Five
Stop
With the Author's Notes Already
Harry and Hermione (who are actually alive, and were not eaten by the
pickelweasel, as earlier reports may have inferred) sat in the Gryffindor common
room, twiddling their thumbs (and twiddling nothing else, this isn't a H/H) and
waiting for Ron to return from his first night of horror in the Slytherin common
room. Little did they know the
atrocities Ron would be subjected to that night.
"So … " Harry glanced over at Hermione.
"So. What have you been up
to? Usually the whole world
revolves around you, and I haven't heard hide nor hair of your little escapades
since those psychopaths arrived from
"Um … nothing interesting, naturally," Harry said quite honestly, careful
to tiptoe around what could be a potentially violent situation, "I hope Ron
comes back soon."
"Yes, he's been quite busy
lately, hasn't he?" Hermione snapped in irritation.
"Oh, so you figured it out, eh?" Harry couldn't help but grin a
little.
"Figured out that Ron's got a new best friend? Hasn't got time for us anymore? Oh yes, I've figured that out!" Hermione
called, not quite as smart as she thought she was.
"Sure Hermione, sure," Harry nodded, deciding to wait until Hermione's
parents decided to let her in on the phenomenon know cryptically as the 'birds
and the bees'.
"NO! NO No no no no no … "
Ron squealed as he appeared in the Gryffindor common room, getting progressively
quieter and more desperate until his mantra was nothing more than sheepish
babble.
"Don't you try to get out of this, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said, for
one reason or another assuming that Ron had heard all of her and Harry's
previous conversation.
"No … no no no … NOOOOO!" Ron screamed, his vocabulary now reduced to one
word.
"Astrid and Snape?" Harry asked, slightly more swift than his
sidekicks.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" the screams rang throughout half the castle as Ron
fell to his knees in an all-too-cliched manner, gripping at his face as he fell
forward onto the ground and twitched pathetically. Most of the Gryffindors ran out to see
if, in fact, Lord Voldemort had entered Hogwarts, as surely such a pathetic
noise would indicate, but when they found Ron Weasley twitching on the ground,
they sighed and went back to their rooms. Some wandered into the room to give the red-haired, freckled boy a kick
in the head, but most disappeared quietly into their
rooms.
"Sorry, suppose I shouldn't have brought it up," Harry winced, sticking a
finger in his ear, wondering if, perhaps, his eardrums had been
shattered.
"What's all this about, then?" Hermione piped up, ever
naïve.
"I was in the room, and the green, and the silver, and the people, they
didn't like me, and the throwing things, and the OW! And then she said, and I
heard, but she didn't know I heard, but the other did, and she didn't say, but I
heard anyway, and I screamed and NOOO! And she lied and then the guy and the
thing and NOOOOOO!!!" Ron popped his head up long enough to unintelligibly
scream before flopping about on the ground again like some kind of
salmon.
"Yes. That made a whole lot
of sense. Is the Slytherin common
room an opium den?" Harry asked, glancing over to Hermione, who was just
standing there staring at Ron in a dumbfounded manner, as if she couldn't tell
whether she should kick him in the head or … punch him in the
head.
"He's been bewitched!" Hermione finally yelled, the only reasonable
answer she could possibly come up with.
"Astrid Ackerley likes Professor Snape," Harry told Hermione very
slowly. This didn't seem to
register.
"Ron Weasley likes Astrid Ackerley," Harry said. Nothing. So he added, "that's why Ron's robes are
always backwards." Slowly. Very slowly. Her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. And she kicked Ron in the
head.
* * * * *
"So, when are you going to ask Malfoy to the ball?" Astrid asked
pleasantly as she began building a little fortress out of her scrambled eggs for
Severus (the rat), who still managed to find himself a seat at the Slytherin
table, despite numerous complaints.
"Astrid, sod off," Fasuta hissed through clenched teeth. This was not the first time Astrid had
asked. This was not even the
fifteenth time Astrid had asked. This was probably closer to the sixty eighth time Astrid had asked. Only
approximately.
"You'll have to ask him soon, because you'll want his robes and your
dress to match, so then when you're making out on the dance floor, you both kind
of melt together into this one big making-out-blob! That's so romantic!" Astrid
swooned.
"Who are you taking to the
ball, Astrid?" Fausta asked, naturally referring to the Iuvenesco Ball, even
though we haven't mentioned it for quite some time.
"Oh, Severus, naturally. He's been trying to ask me all morning, haven't you noticed him looking
at me all morning? Those black eyes smoldering with desire, his whole body
aching with – "
"For God's sake, I'm trying to eat!" Fausta spat, taking a stab at
Severus with her fork.
"It's going to be lovely, really, I mean, I'm making my own dress, and
I'm going to make this fantastic little bow tie that Severus can wear, and we're
just going to burn up the dance floor, I mean, can you imagine the moves he's
got?" Astrid mooned, if this were an anime, her eyes would be giant hearts
beating out of her skull.
"Supposing 'dear Severus' doesn't ask you? Will you take pity on the Weasley?"
Fausta refused to acknowledge Ron as anything above a
mold.
"The who? Oh! Ronny! Sure, yeah, I've got two hands, haven't
I?" Astrid said, not meaning what I'm sure you think she
means.
"That's it, I'm never going to eat again," Fausta shook her head and
shoved her plate away, storming from the table just as Malfoy sat across from
her.
"Well bloody great, what have I done this time?!" Malfoy yelled after
Fausta.
"You haven't asked her to the ball yet, you silly sod, it's breaking her
poor little heart! Be a man! … You
are a man, aren't you?" Astrid asked curiously, ducking under the table as if to
check whether Malfoy was a man or not.
"AAAAH! BLOODY ACKERLEY!" Malfoy screamed, beet red, and ran from the
hall at an amazing pace.
"So it's still up for debate, then?" Astrid asked, appearing from beneath
the table before shrugging and picking at Severus' egg
fortress.
* * * * *
"Her?" Hermione asked, pointing to Astrid as Draco ran past and Astrid
began fighting with her rat for a piece of scrambled egg.
"I've been saying that for the past week," Harry sighed, not even turning
around to see Astrid growling at Severus.
"Her?" Hermione asked again, unbelieving, flinching as Astrid grabbed a
sausage and began beating Severus about the head with it, somehow ignoring the
tremendous pile of scrambled eggs right next to her.
"Have I gone bloody invisible?" Harry demanded, looking around quickly,
"oh please, I've just rescued this school from impending doom, what, seven times now! Please, ignore the boy with the scar,
whose destiny it is to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Really, that must be part of the
prophecy too!"
"What's he on about?" Ron asked, the first semi-intelligent thing he had
said in a very long time.
"Who knows," Hermione shook her head," so, her?"
"AAAH!" Ron screamed and flopped under the table, curling into a little
ball as, conveniently, Snape walked past the table.
"Weasley, what's wrong with you this time?" Snape asked, peering under
the table curiously, showing a rare bit of compassion, as he seemed to
understand Ron's woe – they were both being stalked by Astrid after
all.
"Nothing sir, this is really more your problem," Harry couldn't help but
grin ominously.
Snape just gave him a weary look and dashed towards the teacher's table
before Astrid could get a hold of him. He dove under the table, where Minerva handed him a plate of bacon, as it
had become his usual seat.
"Why Snape? Why not … Harry. I could deal with that. Blimey, I could deal with it if she had
a crush on Dumbledore, but Snape,
he's like my bleeding mortal enemy!" Ron yelled from under the
table.
"Who's mortal enemy?!" Harry
demanded, sticking his head under the table at Ron.
"Right, sorry, forgot all that business," Ron shrugged a
little.
"Right," Harry nodded, sitting back up.
"But, I mean, he's still a prick, eh?" Ron asked, sliding back into his
seat to nods from Hermione and Harry.
"Orange juice," came the peep from under the teacher's table, and a
sallow hand popped up and waved about until Minerva jammed a glass of orange
juice into it and it disappeared. Sputtering followed.
"No pulp, you silly bint!" the peep was a little louder this time as the
orange juice reappeared. This was
followed by several sharp shrieks.
"Sorry Severus, my foot slipped," Minerva said, voice swimming in
self-satisfaction as she handed the oily little man another orange juice – no
pulp.
"Hmph," he huffed, "it's WARM!" he yelled and held it up again. More shrieks.
"Muscle spasm," Minerva assured him before handing him his third glass of
orange juice, "how is it?"
"Yummy," Snape whimpered, and crawled off towards Flitwick's
chair.
* * * * *
"No." Snape stated flatly, shaking his head as he looked around at the
other teachers at the staff meeting.
"Severus, we're short of teachers as it is, if a student doesn't have a
chaperone, they can't come to the ball," Minerva explained, though
none-too-delicately; she was still enjoying the fact that Severus sported
several high-heel shaped bruises.
"No, because I'm going to pull Ackerley's name. It's going to happen, and you know it
just as well as I do," Snape snapped, looking almost afraid for his
life.
"Don't be stupid Severus, there are a dozen names in the hat, the chances
of pulling Ackerley's name are slim. Look, I'll shove her paper to the bottom for you, now the odds are
astronomical!" Minerva said, pulling out Astrid's name and shoving it to the
bottom of the hat. Snape watched
her suspiciously before putting his hand out towards the hat … but it hovered
several centimetres above, as if he were frightened that Ackerley's name might
be attracted to him somehow, like the leech of a girl that was Astrid
herself.
"Oh Christ, just hurry up and pick, we've got other things to do!"
Professor Bob called violently, waving his little fist about in the air
menacingly.
Snape shot him an evil look and made plans to spike Bob's orange juice
later, but for now, he carefully took a name from the top of the hat and held it
in his hand, dreading what it might say. The Iuvensco Ball was a time of celebration and family, but some unlucky
students found themselves without chaperones – family members of some kind who
could make their way to Hogwarts for a weekend of celebration. In these cases, the teachers drew lots
to decide chaperones, because without them, the students couldn't participate in
the many planned events. And Astrid
had conveniently forgotten to tell her parents, or her parents had conveniently
forgotten to RSVP, or something of some convenience, because Astrid's name was
in that lot, and Snape had the sinking feeling Astrid's name was now in his
hand.
"Longbottom, Longbottom, Longbottom, Longbottom," Snape chanted over and
over as he carefully unfolded the piece of paper, as it was no exaggeration that
he'd rather dance with Neville Longbottom than with Astrid Ackerley. He was quite sure he wouldn't have to be
worried about where Neville's hands would be while they danced. He closed his eyes and pulled the folded
piece of paper open, opening his eyes in a flash to see his doom spelled out in
fourteen letters.
" …
….
….
….
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Snape screamed and ran from the room, his arms waving
about in the air madly.
The other teachers exchanged glances for a brief moment before McGonagall
dropped the hat and the room was filled with uproarious
laughter.
"Okay. Let's get the real
hat now," McGonagall said as a wave of papers with 'Astrid Ackerley' written on
them floated to the ground, the hat following close
behind.
* * * * *
"Hey Fausta," Draco said, in what might have been an attempt to be
smooth, but came out as more of a choaked squeal.
Fausta simply glared at him out of the corner of her eyes as Astrid
bounced on a desk next to them, sure she knew what was coming
next.
"Um … " Draco said before wimping out and running, surprisingly, over to
Astrid, "what the hell am I supposed to say?!" he demanded, glaring at her as if
this were all her bright idea.
"I told you! You wiggle your
eyebrows and say 'How you doin'?' Girls think that's sexy," Astrid nodded
authoritatively.
"You like Snape. What the
hell do you know about sexy?" Draco demanded.
"Fine, do it your way. Get
laughed at, I'd enjoy that much more anyway. You know what girls think is really sexy? When boys where their underwear on the
outside," Astrid grinned mischievously.
"ASTRID! He'll make an ass
of himself just fine without your help," Fausta hissed across the Potions class;
Snape was apparently still getting over the distress of picking Astrid – he was
twenty minutes late. Later some
boys would say they heard crying coming from the teacher's washroom, but no one
could confirm this rumor.
"Hey! I think I'm insulted!"
Draco yelled back and glared at Astrid, "some help you turned out to
be."
"What did you expect?" Astrid asked absently as she picked up Severus,
still playing with a little piece of scrambled egg, and began fighting with him
once again.
"I am the man. She wants
me. In the zone. Calling upon all my masculine
charm. I am the man. I am the sex GOD!" Draco chanted under
his breath as he walked towards Fausta.
"THE SEX GOD?" Astrid called, making sure the entire room could
hear. With that, Draco turned neon
red and ran from the room as well, presumably to become the second Slytherin
Astrid would have crying that day.
"THANKS ASTRID! HE WAS GOING
TO ASK ME!" Fausta yelled in a very rare outburst as she leapt from her desk and
ran after Draco.
"I know what I'm doing," Astrid assured her rat, who looked at her
skeptically before offering her the piece of scrambled egg out of
pity.
* * * * *
"I didn't say that," Draco said lamely as Fausta caught up with him in
the hallway.
"What did you say?" Fausta
asked skeptically.
"Um … I am … the … sex … god … damn … " Draco scrambled, but didn't seem
to be coming up with anything.
"Oh." Fausta nodded absently, glancing back towards the potion
class.
"Yeah." Draco nodded, watching Fausta, who turned to look back at
him. This would naturally be the
cliched moment in which they both blush, laugh and start dating, but Fausta is
never one for cliches.
"WELL ARE YOU GOING TO BLOODY ASK ME OR NOT?!" she demanded as Draco
half-fulfilled his part by blushing with mortification.
"Um … come … dance … me … " Draco mumbled, barely
intelligible.
"No." Fausta said coolly and walked back into the Potions classroom,
quite pleased at having the upper hand.
"I hate women," Draco grumbled.
"Me too," Snape agreed dejectedly, appearing in the hallway next to
Draco, who nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Professor Snape?" Draco asked, watching the older man with
curiosity.
"Run, Draco. Run while you
still can," Snape shook his head, his eyes hollow and desperate. With that, he trudged into the
classroom, leaving Draco to ponder his words.
"You
said no?" Astrid asked unbelievably, obviously having been eavesdropping, "you
probably shattered his poor little ego, he might run off and join the circus
now, nothing left for him in the wizarding world."
"Where do you come up with this garbage?" Fausta demanded, watching
Astrid with wide eyes.
"I dunno. Just seemed a
little more realistic than him maybe turning around and going to the dance with
Pansy Parkinson or something," Astrid shrugged pleasantly as all colour drained
from Fausta's face.
"DRACO MALFOY YOU WILL GET BACK IN HERE AND YOU WILL TAKE ME TO THAT BALL
OR I SWEAR YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU WERE BORN!" Fausta screeched at the top
of her lungs as Draco arrived in the room, following Snape, who was already
being assaulted by Astrid.
"I AM the sex God!!!!" Draco yelled triumphantly, causing Fausta to turn
beet red and wonder if she really did want to go to the dance with
Draco.
"You didn't run fast enough," Snape shook his head sadly as Astrid
snuggled him, gazing up at him lovingly.
"So Severus, about that ball … " Astrid began, looking suggestively up at
Snape, who gave Draco a panicked look and once again, began searching the room
for available exits.
* * * * *
"So, has she asked you to the ball yet?" Harry asked, staring between Ron
who was about as enthusiastic as mold about the whole idea of the ball, and
Hermione, who was still shocked and disgusted at the very idea of Ron liking
Astrid, who liked Snape. Harry was
seriously beginning to debate seeking out new friends, roadkill and a vulture
had more personality than these two.
"Who?" Ron asked sullenly, proving once again that it takes a special
kind of person to find Astrid Ackerley attractive.
"Astrid," Harry ventured, knowing this would probably get Ron wailing
again, but deciding it was better than Ron sitting there like some sorry
lump.
"Astrid?" Ron asked, just as sullenly – maybe he had blocked her
out.
"That girl. The one who … "
Harry trailed off, he didn't really want to explain the relationship Ron and
Astrid had, as it made him a little queasy, "who likes Snape." He finally
decided upon, not really any less disturbing.
"Oh," Ron sighed dejectedly, "yes. Astrid." He let out another pitiful sigh.
"No, then?" Harry asked, staring at his wand and debating whether to
drive it into his skull.
"Oh, no," Ron shook his head and waited a few moments before deciding
that another pathetic noise was necessary.
"Are you going to ask her?" Harry asked through gritted
teeth.
"Ask who?" Ron blinked.
"Astrid." Harry clenched his wand between his
fingers.
"Ask Astrid what?" Ron asked, such an attentive
friend.
"ASK ASTRID TO THE BLOODY BALL!" Harry yelled, knuckles white, sure he
was going to have splinters once this conversation was
done.
"Okay," Ron sighed and got up, wandering off to, presumably, look for
Astrid, as Harry fell backwards onto the ground and crawled back to the
Gryffindor common room, wishing he had been just a little bit nicer to Draco
Malfoy that first time they met.
* * * * *
Hollow black eyes bore into a stone wall, and anyone watching would
surely think him mad. But once the
words 'pure-blood' were spoken, the wall moved away and one found themselves
within the depths of evil. Or the
Slytherin common room, whichever you prefer, really. That was, of course, assuming that one
wanted the wall to move away to reveal the centre of Slytherin society. And this individual most certainly did
not. He sighed slightly and let his
eyes fall to his feet, which he shuffled uncomfortably as he tried to decide the
best way to get this over with quickly and painlessly. Of course, with Astrid Ackerley, there
really was no quick and painless way about anything.
"I could always just go join Voldemort again," Snape considered, rolling
up his sleeve to glance at his Dark Mark. It was somehow less ominous than Astrid's grinning face. Voldemort was a distant power, he could
easily be ignored. Astrid, however,
was terrifyingly in his face. Literally.
"I wish Fluffy were still here. I'm sure he and Astrid would get along well," Snape mumbled before
leaning up against the door to the Slytherin common room, "ah Fluff-aaaah!"
Snape screamed as he fell backwards into the Slytherin common room to find
himself staring up at Astrid.
"Why, Professor Snape, are you trying to get a peek up my robes?" Astrid
asked, about to take a step forward as if to help him out a little in that
respect, when he flew up to his feet, faster than anyone had ever seen him
move.
"That's not funny, Ackerley," Snape hissed, glaring at the young
woman.
"I wasn't joking," Astrid said, looking down at the ground as she played
absently with the bottom of her long black robes.
"Never mind … I must have a word with you, Miss Ackerley," Snape said,
then seeing the look Astrid was giving him, as if all her hopes and dreams were
about to realized, he added, "or rather, I'm being forced to. This way, please." He said and motioned
her out into the hallway while other Slytherin's watched on with
pity.
Astrid skipped out into the hallway, obviously quite ecstatic, and stared
up at Snape, eyes wide and hopeful.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" she breathed, practically
salivating.
Snape took another quick glance at his Dark Mark before beginning, "Well,
Ackerley, as you know, the Iuvenesco Ball is coming up and unfortunately your
parents have decided not to attend, and unfortunately you need a chaperone and
MOST unfortunately, by some sick twist of fate, that chaperone is … er … " Snape
couldn't even bring himself to finish.
"Yes? Yes, Professor Snape?"
Astrid squealed, her hands clasped together in joy.
"Don't make me say it," he winced, looking quite
ill.
"Oh, but Severus, dear, we have to make it official! You have to ask me properly!" Astrid
squealed again, her voice so high-pitched with glee it could have cracked
glass.
"I have to go drown myself now," Snape muttered and turned around
quickly, wandering off down the hallway as Astrid skipped gleefully after him,
chanting in a singsong voice 'He loves me! He loves me! We're going to have ten
thousand tiny pink babies!'
* * * * *
"We're only going to go through this one more time," Fausta said, highly
irritated that Malfoy wasn't paying attention, "taking me to the ball is an
incredible privilege, and I want you to realize that." Malfoy, however, didn't
seem to see it that way. Quite the
opposite, really, he thought that HE was doing FAUSTA a
service.
"Fausta, really, you're not even paying attention to MY rules of
conduct," Malfoy sniffed, the two hardly paying any attention to each other,
they were much too absorbed in what they, themselves, were
saying.
"You will address me as Miss Darcy, you will not speak unless spoken to,
and even then, sparingly. I will do
the majority of the talking for the both of us, because you've done quite a job
of making an idiot of yourself, and I don't need you dragging me down with
you. Eating will not be permitted,
I won't let you ruin your robes and my dress; I've seen you eat. And dancing itself has a completely
different set of rules, with subsets of rules pertaining to the placement of
hands, positioning on the dance floor … " Fausta didn't seem to feel any need to
shut up.
"My parents will be there, so naturally you'll be expected to be on your
best behaviour, and if that Ackerley girl comes around, you will denounce
knowing her AT ALL, she is some kind of magical mishap, once a troll or a mold
or something, I don't really care. Just don't speak with her. Naturally, there are very few people that are acceptable to be seen with,
you may stand next to Professor Snape, my parents, your parents and … well,
that's all. If anyone else gets
within ten feet of you, they will find themselves burping up slugs. Also … "
Malfoy continued on a similar train of thought with no end in
sight.
"Of course, my brother will be there and - " Fausta was cut off by a
rather girlish scream on Malfoy's part.
"DAMION DARCY IS COMING?!" Draco demanded, turning a ghostly
white.
"Naturally," Fausta said coolly, "my parents are far too busy with
important business to amuse themselves with silly little balls." She snorted,
ever the condescending little witch.
"But … b-but … but … but but … " Draco squeaked, practically crying
now.
"Oh, don't be silly, Damion isn't allowed to turn anyone into cockroach's
anymore. The Wizard's Council
wasn't very impressed with that little mess," Fausta
smirked.
"What about ferrets?" Draco asked with a wince. He had a history with
ferrets.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Fausta grinned
maliciously.
"Must've misplaced it," Draco said lamely, debating just hiding under his
bed until the ball was over.
"Don't worry Draco, I'll protect you," Fausta
smirked.
All Draco could do was whimper.
* * * * *
"So Astrid," Ron attempted as Astrid walked down the aisle of desks in
Potions class after Snape.
"Hmm?" Astrid asked absently, following a foot behind Snape, bumping into
him whenever he stopped to curses and yells to go back to her
desk.
"Are you going to the ball?" Ron asked, not noticing Snape shudder at
even a mention of the ball.
"Of course," Astrid swooned, latching onto Snape, "Severus asked me to go
with him!"
"I DID NO SUCH THING!" Snape screamed and shoved Astrid off of him,
running towards his office and locking himself in.
"He's playing hard to get again," Astrid swooned, "he's so dreamy!"
Astrid added, suddenly forgetting all about Ron and his
feelings.
"Oh, er," Ron said, not really sure how to take this, "did you want to go
with me?"
"Go where?" Astrid blinked as she wandered up to Snape's office door and
began tapping on it with her wand.
"To the ball," Ron said awkwardly, wandering after her, wishing he could
get her attention for more than two seconds.
"Yes, I'm going to the ball," Astrid nodded, tapping the door one final
time before it caved in on itself to reveal Snape trying to crawl out a
window.
"No, did you want to go to the ball with me?" Ron asked, watching Astrid skip
over to Snape, who sighed and pulled himself out of the window in
defeat.
"Severus, be careful! You'll
hurt yourself! I wouldn't want you
to mar your beautiful face!" Astrid squealed, then glanced over her shoulder at
Ron, "hmm? Sorry, can't. Going with Severus. You understand."
"Dear God, go with the boy!" Snape yelled, shoving Astrid towards
Ron. Astrid just
giggled.
"You're so giving, you only want my happiness, don't you?" she sighed and
latched onto Snape once again.
"Ackerley, a miracle of nature has occurred and someone actually wants to
go to the ball with you. I
encourage you to seize this opportunity, as one like this may never come along
again," Snape told her icily, eyes narrowed at Astrid.
"Hmm, what was that? Sorry,
I was lost in your eyes," Astrid told him as Ron watched on in disgust. That was about as much as he could take
though, and he quickly vacated the scene, not really wanting to know what this
might lead to.
"This is blatant harassment," Snape told her flatly, but Astrid was too
busy snuggling Snape to hear anything he was saying.
* * * * *
Two dresses lay spread out on Fausta's bed, and she looked between both,
a considering look on her face. Both were black. Both were
long. The only real difference was
the flared sleeves on one dress. But, of course, such matters of style demanded intense
consideration.
"I like this colour better," Fausta murmured, picking up one of the
dresses, naturally Fausta could see the minute shade difference. She was, after all, Fausta
Darcy.
"But the sleeves on this one," she considered aloud, tossing one dress
aside and picking up the other one, "I just don't know." She sighed softly. It was hard being such a role
model. Fausta continued her close
scrutiny of two nearly identical dresses until the most horrible sight she had
ever seen came skipping into the room. Fausta screamed at the top of her lungs and flung herself down to the
ground to crawl under her bed, sure that the apocalypse was upon them, or some
other such disaster. But no, it was
only Astrid.
"Do you like it? I made it
myself!" Astrid beamed with pride as she spun around in the Frankenstein of
dresses. Fifteen different colours
of blindingly bright plaid had been stitched together using some kind of crude
yarn. Gigantic bows of hideous
colours adorned the dress in every place they would fit. Astrid had fixed two of these bows
around her pigtails and now bounded around the room in an outfit that would
bring a clown to shame. And this
was ignoring the shape of it, which seemed to balloon around her shoulders and
waist, one could scarcely imagine how she managed that. And as if that wasn't enough, everything
was fringed with a God-awful lace. She was truly a sight to behold.
"I CAN TELL! MY BLOODY
EYES!!!" Fausta screamed, rarely one to spaz, but she always made special
exceptions for Astrid.
"Isn't it pretty? I made a
matching bowtie for Severus!" Astrid squealed and continued to bounce around the
room, waving a bow-tie of similarly disturbing
proportions.
"Oh my, I can't wait to see him in that," Fausta smirked, suddenly quite
intrigued at the prospect.
"Don't you get any ideas," Astrid glared at Fausta, a dark cloud passing
over her sunny demeanour, before she started bouncing around the room again,
giggling like an idiot, presumably thinking about Severus in his new
bowtie.
"You have nothing to worry about," Fausta assured Astrid, "well, this is
assuming that Professor Snape doesn't have his wand when you try and put that
ghastly thing on him."
"Ghastly?" Astrid looked almost hurt. Almost.
"Which dress would you wear, Astrid?" Fausta quickly changed the subject,
motioning to the two dresses she was trying to decide
between.
"I wouldn't be caught dead in either," Astrid shrugged
pleasantly.
"Thank God," Fausta nodded and decided that both were completely
acceptable.
"But if I had to choose, that one," Astrid said, pointing to one at
random.
"Excellent," Fausta said and, inevitably, chose the other
dress.
"You're incredible," Astrid shook her head.
"I know," Fausta said with a very rare pleasant
smile.
"So we're having the welcome banquet tonight, eh?" Astrid said, flopping
down onto her bed as Fausta waved her wand and a little blurry screen appeared
around her so she could change.
"A keen observation," Fausta snorted.
"Are your parents coming?" Astrid asked curiously.
"No, my parents are far too important for these piddling little social
gatherings," Fausta told Astrid, her tone even more condescending than
usual.
"Darn. I was looking forward
to meeting them," Astrid sighed, "It would really help in determining whether
this attitude of yours is some kind of genetic defect or
what."
"You'd know about genetic defects, wouldn't you? How is Ron anyway?" Fausta smirked,
"that bowtie is really more his style than Snape's. I mean, Ron must be blind if he's
hanging around with you, mustn't he?"
"So, is that stick up your arse a family heirloom, or what? Too bad I can't ask your parents,"
Astrid smiled pleasantly, "they're probably too busy appearing on 'The Antique's
Roadshow' for the fifth time. Pressing business, you know."
"To say nothing of the Ackerley clan, who are probably going to cousin
Billy Bob and cousin Amy Jo's wedding," Fausta snarled.
"That was last month!" Astrid protested, causing Fausta to drain of
colour and stare at Astrid, "Didn't think I'd get you on that one." Astrid shook her head
and with that, turned and departed.
"Yeah, well … NUTS TO YOU!" Fausta yelled after Astrid, grumbling to
herself as she pulled on one of the black dresses, unable to remember which one
Astrid had hated more, but it didn't really matter. They were both black dresses after all
...
* * * * *
"I can't believe she blew you off for Snape," Hermione said
none-too-delicately, almost revelling in Ron's squirming at any mention of
Snape's name.
"Yes, well, that's how it goes," Ron laughed lamely before picking up his
wand and pointing it at his head. Luckily, Harry snatched it away in time, and Ron only blew a rather
sizeable hole through a chair in the Gryffindor common
room.
"Oh yes, that's really going to help things," Hermione snorted, "though I
suppose with a hole in your head, you and Ackerley might have a little more in
common."
"What is everyone's problem with Astrid?!" Ron demanded, glaring at his
two 'best friends'.
"She's nuts," Hermione said bluntly.
"She really is off her nut," Harry helpfully backed Hermione up,
receiving an annoyed look from Ron for his efforts.
"She's volatile," Hermione added.
"You have to admit, it's only a matter of time before she cracks and
kills us all," Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"She likes Snape, that in itself is just evidence of a whole slew of new problems," Hermione shook
her head.
"Snape is quite the prick," Harry nodded.
"Not to mention that she's treating you pretty awfully," Hermione
nodded.
"Of course, Ron, you're a pretty big idiot, so you probably deserve it,"
Harry pointed out and barely dodged Ron's fist, "and you're
touchy."
"What kind of friends are
you?! The love of my life has
rejected me! I don't know how much
longer I can go on!" Ron yelled violently.
"Actually Ron, all you two did was make out," Harry said, making another
superb point.
"Yes, well, it was very nice and I miss making out," Ron pouted, crossing
his arms over his chest.
"You disgust me," Hermione made a face.
"Do you want to kiss me?" Ron asked hopefully, pretty desperate right
now.
"GOR!!! NO!!!" Hermione yelled, and with that, stormed out of the
room.
"That was intelligent," Harry snorted and smacked Ron upside the head
before following after Hermione.
"I miss Astrid," Ron pouted, rubbing at his head.
* * * * *
"You look nice," Draco squeaked, whipping around quickly to make sure
Fausta's older brother wasn't around and had heard him say any of that, "but I
mean that in a completely plutonic way!" he added, just in
case.
"You're an idiot," Fausta stated flatly.
"I'd rather be a live idiot than a dead ... " Draco searched for the
word.
"Idiot?" Fausta offered helpfully.
"Thanks," Draco told her sarcastically. The evening was already going splendidly
as far as both were concerned. Really. I'm not being
sarcastic here.
"No problem, Malfoy," Fausta smirked, "don't even think of embarrassing
me." She said offhandedly, causing Draco to do a bit of a
double-take.
"Embarrass you? I'm more worried about that stupid
friend of yours making a fool of us," Draco hissed.
"I'm not joking, Draco," Fausta said, suddenly grabbing the collar of
Draco's dress robes and pulling him close to her, her eyes blazing, "if you
should act in a manner that displeases me, you shall find yourself in a rather
uncomfortable position. Shall I
elaborate?"
"Please don't," Draco squeaked, letting out a sigh of relief as Fausta
released him.
"Excellent," she smiled, "we'll have you trained
yet."
"Trained?!" Draco
demanded.
"You're displeasing me," Fausta warned.
"Sorry, Miss Darcy, ma'am," Draco said, quickly offering his arm to
Fausta so that the two could make their way down to the banquet to greet their
families.
* * * * *
The banquet was in full swing, a band of goblins played in the
background, but the evening's entertainment was clearly found elsewhere. Severus Snape sat mortified, tugging at
the awful little bowtie that Astrid had managed to clamp on his neck and had
conveniently enchanted to remain on his neck until she saw fit to take it
off. Snickers followed him the
entire evening, and he had a list of students to clean the potions lab at least
a mile long.
"Look on the bright side, Ron, that could be you," Hermione said
cheerfully, watching Snape as he picked up a fork and began stabbing uselessly
at the bowtie.
"Yeah," Ron said dejectedly, almost as if he did wish it were him. Which was quite incredible considering
that Snape had, by that time, given up on the fork and was now trying to saw
through the thing with a steak knife.
"Ron, come on, your parents are going to be here soon," Harry said, as if
this were the kind of comment that would cheer Ron up. He wasn't really all there though, he
was quite busy watching Snape as he now debated just jamming the steak knife
into his jugular.
"Yeah," Ron said again, he was a barrel of laughs that
evening.
"Honestly, what would your parents think if they knew you were dating a
Slytherin?!" Hermione demanded, shaking her head, "and not any ordinary
Slytherin! Astrid
ACKERLEY!"
"Yeah," Ron nodded a bit, it swiftly became obvious that he wasn't even
listening to them at all. He was
watching Astrid as she swooned over Snape and fussed with the bowtie he was so
set on destroying. He now had one
of the candles in his hand and was trying to torch the
bowtie.
"Ron, would you like to have wild monkey sex with Snape?" Harry asked,
deciding to test the above theory.
"Yeah," Ron nodded absently.
"I wonder if Astrid would think that a turn on," Harry considered before
wandering over to talk to her.
"Ron, honestly," Hermione sighed, "Harry is about to talk to Astrid about
you having mad sex with Snape. So
if you wouldn't mind snapping out of this blue funk for a moment ...
"
"I didn't have sex with Snape," Ron said, blinking slightly as he watched
Harry talk curiously with Astrid, who just grinned insanely and began
nodding. She then looked at Ron and
gave him the thumbs up, ever grinning like an idiot as she winked at
him.
"If that's not a reason to run far, far away, I don't know what is,"
Hermione said, looking rather queasy.
"She seemed to like that idea quite a lot," Harry blinked, emotionally
scarred, as he approached the table. Apparently Snape had heard him, because Snape was getting ready to start
throwing steak knives at Ron.
"Mr. Weasley, I would thank you not to make advances on me! Ackerley here is more than I can
handle," Snape yelled across the hall and it went absolutely silent for a few
minutes as everyone turned to look at Ron. Harry and Hermione ducked under the table as Ron glanced around blankly
before the hall practically exploded with laughter.
"What's this all about?" Ron asked and sighed before resuming mooning
over Astrid.
* * * * *
The welcome feast was soon underway as the students' family members
arrived. Naturally Mr. and Mrs.
Malfoy made a dramatic entry halfway through the first course. Fashionably late, of
course.
"Mother," Draco nodded genially, "father." Another nod. Fausta
smirked.
"Draco," Lucius sounded more than slightly annoyed to be there. Naturally he had other, more important
things to do, but Draco was his only
son.
"This," Draco said when Fausta had reminded him to introduce her by
elbowing him not-too-subtly in the stomach, "is Fausta
Darcy."
"Charmed," Fausta smirked, glancing between Draco's
parents.
"So good to see you again, Fausta," Narcissa said vaguely, her eyes
anywhere but on Fausta.
"Someone must apologize for pulling you away from other matters for this
trifle, and since it seems that Draco has no intention of doing this, I suppose
I'll have to," Fausta sighed, looking apologetically at the
Malfoy's.
"We've come to expect such ineptitudes from Draco," Lucius commented
offhandedly, his eyes also on the feast around them, as if trying to decide who
would make acceptable company and coming up short. Very short.
"Father!" Draco protested, his cheeks flushing
lightly.
"Don't be a child, Draco," Fausta snapped and received an approving look
from Narcissa.
"Fausta!" Draco whined, but stopped when he received an icy glare from
all three of them.
"Who's that?" was yelled across the hall, and the source could only be
Astrid.
"Oh no," Draco went pale.
"That's Draco's mum and dad," someone answered her from the Gryffindor
table.
"HEY DRACO!" Astrid yelled, "YOUR DAD'S HOT!" she gave him the thumbs up
and stuck her tongue out in approval before being yanked down into her seat by
Snape, who continued to look absolutely mortified.
"What was that?!" Lucius
demanded, his eyes wide.
"Er ... we're not really sure ... it just showed up one day and no one
can seem to get it to leave," Draco grumbled, glaring over at Astrid, who had
dragged Snape over to the Gryffindor table, getting a little tired of the
constant barrage of English muffins at the Slytherin table. Naturally, Snape was screaming and
moaning and putting up quite a fight, but Astrid didn't seem to
notice.
"Some kind of infectious mould, I would expect," Fausta smiled pleasantly
before motioning towards the table, "please, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, make
yourselves at home. I understand
the surroundings are vile at best, but I suppose we had best tolerate them for
Professor Dumbledore's sake."
"Excellent, Fausta," Lucius smiled, "Draco! Why didn't you offer us a seat?!" Lucius
snapped, glaring at his son. Draco
stopped shooting daggers at Astrid long enough to give his father a shocked
look.
"Must be those fellows he's always hanging around with, I'm sure he
couldn't have picked up such appalling manners from you, Mrs. Malfoy," Fausta smiled at
Narcissa before glaring at Draco herself.
"EY!" Draco protested.
"Sit down and hush up," Lucius glared at his son.
"I begin to get the impression that you two are more fond of Fausta than
of me," Draco glared at his parents but found a seat anyway and settled down to
listen to an evening of Fausta and his parents talking about his
faults.
* * * * *
Half way through the main course, everyone was quite sure that no more
guests were coming, and Draco was quite relieved, as he assumed Damion Darcy
wouldn't be making an appearance.
"I'm sorry to say it appears as though your brother has been tied up in
other matters," Draco smirked, glancing over at Fausta before a dark shadow fell
over him, spelling out his doom.
"I knew that would happen," Draco said dejectedly and ducked under the
table, only to have the back of his dress robes grabbed and then find himself
hanging in the air, a very angry Damion Darcy glaring at
him.
" 'llo Damion," Draco managed to chock, tugging at the collar of his
dress robes.
"If it isn't my favourite Malfoy," Damion grinned sadistically, "you
wouldn't be trying to get away from me, now would you,
Draco?"
"No, no, wouldn't think of it! I was just going under the table to ... ehm ... shine your shoes," Draco
said lamely before finding himself on the ground, staring at Damion's
shoes.
"That's sweet of you, Draco," Damion smirked, giving him a not-so-nice
little nudge in the face with his foot. With this, Fausta sighed, deciding Draco had had enough and stood to
glare at her brother.
"Damion, honestly, I can't take you anywhere," she spoke to him in very
much the same way she spoke to Draco, "let him up, he's already just about
swallowed his tongue in fear."
"But we were having fun," Damion grinned at his baby sister in typical
bully fashion.
"Yes! Fun!" Draco squeaked
from the floor.
"Draco, get up," Fausta sighed, grabbing the back of his dress robes and
yanking him up.
"Make yourself scarce, Malfoy," Damion hissed, giving him a
shove.
"Damion, I'm sure mother and father would simply love to hear about this behaviour,"
Fausta mirrored her brother's smirk.
"You can't tell me you want
that little rat here!" Damion called in disbelief.
"Draco is - "
"Just leaving!" Draco eeped and scurried off before anyone else could
grab onto his collar.
"DRACO!" Fausta yelled, then turned to her brother,
"DAMION!"
"What?!" Damion huffed and found himself a seat, digging into the food as
if nothing had happened.
"Draco was my date," Fausta
hissed.
"Your ... what?" Damion
demanded, looking up at Fausta in a clichéd, over-protective older brother sort
of way.
"Oh, don't be an idiot, Damion," Fausta grumbled and sat back down as
Damion ran off after Draco, who luckily had a head start. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy found themselves
back at the table and glanced around quickly.
"Where's Draco gotten himself to now?" Lucius grumbled, hoping his son
wasn't doing anything too
stupid.
"You just never know with Draco," Fausta said pleasantly, "did you enjoy
your chat with Professor Snape?"
"Yes ... although that ghastly girl with him was ... " Lucius glanced to
Narcissa, searching for the right words, "does she have an eye twitch? I could have sworn she kept winking at
me ... "
* * * * *
"Ackerley and now Weasley," one Slytherin girl shook her head, "if I were Professor Snape, I'd just ram a
fork into my forehead and be done with it."
"I thought Weasley fancied Ackerley," a Ravenclaw said, it seemed the
same conversation was going on at several tables.
"Maybe it's some kind of weird revenge," a Hufflepuff suggested, making a
face.
"Maybe Weasley's just snapped," was a Gryffindor's contribution to the
conversation.
"Maybe Ackerley's convinced them to have a threesome," Astrid whispered
conspiratorially, but everyone stopped talking at this and just glared at
Astrid, "or maybe not." She pouted and found her way back to her
seat.
"Severus?" Astrid asked as she found her way back to her seat, sighing
slightly.
"Dear God, what?" Snape asked dejectedly.
"What are your feelings about peanut butter?" Astrid asked, her eyes
instantly lighting up.
"I have to go vomit endlessly now," Snape said as he got up from the
table and started out of the hall.
"Ah, Severus! You're so
witty!" Astrid chirped, looking around for a moment before tossing her rat onto
the table. She smiled happily at
little Severus and plopped him on Snape's plate, deciding that since they shared
a name, they should also share their food.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Draco screamed as he raced past the
table.
"Someone's trying to kill Malfoy!" a Hufflepuff yelled, "And it's not
Fausta Darcy!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Draco continued as he ran around the table once
again.
"What's he doing?" one Slytherin asked, watching Malfoy make circles
around the table.
"PROFESSOR SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPE!" Malfoy screamed, deciding he was the
only one who could possibly help him.
"Not Malfoy too!" one Hufflepuff yelled and sound found himself on the
ground, twitching.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Draco screamed as Damion began to catch up with
him. It was at this opportune
moment that Astrid should decide to get involved. She simply stood up in Draco's path and
he fell to the ground, screaming and covering his eyes.
"MY EYEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" Draco screamed, flailing about on the
ground.
Damion skidded to a stop, or rather slowed down enough that running into
Malfoy stopped him the rest of the way. He blinked, watching Astrid as she pulled her wand from her homemade
dress and began poking Malfoy in the forehead while
giggling.
"What are you doing?" Damion asked curiously as he watched the odd girl
assault Malfoy.
"Just accosting Malfoy! One
of my favourite habits, it is," Astrid smiled pleasantly as Draco gave out a
little shriek when she 'accidentally' gave him a jab in the
eye.
"Oh ... " was all Damion could think to say.
"Want to give it a go?" Astrid smiled pleasantly and held out her wand,
"he makes the most adorable noise when you get him in the eye." Astrid then made
a move to illustrate this, back Malfoy flailed away from her general
direction.
"Don't mind if I do!" Damion said almost gleefully and took the wand from
Astrid, giving Malfoy a few quick jabs in the side, "I ... uh ... like your
dress." Damion's cheeks reddened slightly.
"Thanks! I made it," she paused to kick Malfoy in the head,
"myself!"
"It's very ... colourful. Brings out your eyes," Damion flushed a little
deeper.
"Oh for the love of GOD!" Draco yelled and received several
kicks.
"Yeah, I took this material from one of Malfoy's dress robes," Astrid
pointed at a spot on her dress and Malfoy would have made a noise but he was
currently making sure he still had all his teeth, "and I took this piece from Severus' bed sheets."
She giggled and pointed to a patch over her heart.
"Oh ... is Severus your boyfriend?" Damion asked, his eyes narrowing a
little.
"He's my little dumpling!" Astrid giggled, nodding.
"Damion, God, no, run! Run
now!" Draco croaked and was soon eating wand.
"Oh ... is it ... serious?" Damion asked, scratching absently at the back
of his neck.
"Well ... ehm ... that's sort of a complicated matter," Astrid said,
considering.
"HE HATES HER GUTS!" Malfoy yelled before finding himself with a bloody
nose.
"Oh, well ... I'm Damion," Damion (naturally) smiled and held out a hand
to her.
"Astrid. Ackerley," Astrid
stopped to consider this a moment, "Astrid Ackerley." She
nodded.
"Delighted," Damion smiled, glancing down at his hand, which Astrid
seemed to be ignoring.
"Quite," Astrid nodded primly before glancing down at Draco, "so, why
were you running down Malfoy? Not that it's not a pastime I don't
heartily endorse and wish more people would partake in."
"Oh, he was making a move on my sister," Damion explained
bluntly.
"DRACO'S CHEATING ON FAUSTA?! YOU AWFUL LITTLE TWIT!" Astrid yelled and wound up to kick Draco in the
head yet again, when Damion stopped her.
"No, no, my sister is Fausta," Damion blinked, wondering why he had
stopped Astrid from kicking Malfoy, "but please, don't let that stop
you."
"Of course," Astrid smiled and gave Malfoy a good thwack in the head,
"wait ... you're Fausta's brother?" she blinked, looking at him with something
along the lines of disbelief.
"Damion, what's taking you so long? I saw Draco go down ages ago and he's not that hard to keep on the
ground," Fausta sighed, turning to glare at Astrid for a moment, "thank you for
your help,
Astrid."
"Oh, sorry Fausta. I was
just talking to Astrid," Damion smiled pleasantly, "she's got a simply fantastic
dress."
Fausta's eyes went wide and she stared at her brother in shock and
disgust, "Are you absolutely BLIND?!"
"What d'you mean?" Damion winced slightly, "it's very ...
creative."
"Hmph. See? Creative!" Astrid stuck her tongue out
at Fausta before wandering back to her table, apparently done with
Damion.
"What in the name of all things holy were you doing?!" Fausta demanded,
glaring at her brother as he watched Astrid walk off, sighing
dreamily.
"She's amazing ... who's this Severus kid? I'll rip him a new -
"
"OH MY DEAR LORD!" Fausta shrieked, "you do not like Astrid
Ackerley!"
"And why not? She's
perfectly lovely!" Damion glared at his sister.
"She's perfectly deranged,
Damion!" Fausta shot right back.
"Just tell me who this Severus snot is," Damion continued to glare icily
at Fausta.
"Professor Severus Snape,"
Fausta returned her brother's glare.
"Professor?!" Damion yelled,
"that's got to be violating some
moral codes!"
"Well Damion, it's not exactly mutual," Fausta
hissed.
"He's taking advantage of that
poor, innocent girl?!" Damion demanded.
"You are not my brother," Fausta shook her head, picking up Draco, "come
Draco."
"I want to go home," Draco whimpered as Fausta dragged him back towards
his parents.
Author's
Note: And thus ends Chapter Five. AH HA HA HA!! Um ... so. Yup. So, I suppose you can probably expect
Chapter Six soon, as we know everyone's just dying to finish up the Iuvensco
Ball ... and besides, that plot twist with Damion! I mean, WOW! Who saw that one coming? And we have to find out what's going to
happen with Ron and Snape! I mean,
the guy FINALLY comes around! Good
for you, Ronny! (This is Fausta
speaking here! Ha ha ha. Just shitting you.) So, hopefully we'll have more up soon
and Draco will live through it. Ha
ha ha. Stupid punk. (Still Astrid. Ha ha ha.) In any case, Chapter Six might be it for
a while, since Fausta is leaving for a place of higher learning, while Astrid
sits here and ROTS. Ha ha ha,
Actually, she'll be back around Christmas, so you'll have another instalment
right around the time of the Potter movie ... of course, this chapter will be
absolutely awful, because Astrid just
happened to have a thing for Alan Rickman even before he took the roll as Snape,
so you just know these are going to
be volatile times. Let's see how
many times we can get kicked out of the theatre for yelling 'TAKE IT OFF, BABY!'
when Snape appears on screen! *cackle*
So,
yes, you can expect some real life exploits in that Chapter ... ha ha ha. As we'll be wearing Slytherin t-shirts
and harassing small children! Trying to recruit them to our cult! Er ... house. We'll let you
know when we'll next be writing in December. (ha ha ha.) Because we're actually getting LIVES!
AH! GOD NO! Say it ain't so!
Just
because I'm a self-indulgent little snot (I bet you think this is Fausta now,
but it's not. *grin*) What are we doing? Well, I'll tell you, Bob! (NAME PROFESSOR BOB G*DDAMN YOU ALL!) Fausta is popping out of province to
study MOOSICS!! YEAH MOOSICS!! She's going to be ... a moosic person or
something. Whatever. ASTRID, however (ME ME ME) is ... um ...
actually not doing much. Ha ha
ha. Actually, she's going to be
kissing ass from this September till next September to try and get into a VEDY
VEDY small program! So, wish her
luck in the ass-kissing department! I'm just gonna lock on and hold on tight! (Ha ha ha.) Well, honestly, the program admits
thirty students a year. Ha ha
ha. So will be applying in January
... does anyone care? Ha ha
ha. No. What's it about? FILM AND VIDEO!! ROCKIN' DUDAGE!!!! So Astrid is going to be a moofie
person! Yay! Moosics and moofies! We is SO mature. Um ...
That's
about it. I just like talking about
that, because it makes me feel all high and mighty to be in university. YOU UNCULTURED SLOBS WHO REFUSE TO NAME
PROFESSOR BOB!!! Give the man a
name, for the love of all things holy!!! Okay. Really done now. Really really. Hope you liked it. REVIEW IT! PLEASE! WE'LL SEND
MONEY!!*
*please
note money may be subject to monopoly-ness. ha ha
ha.