Disclaimer: I'm getting kind of tired of this; I DON'T OWN IT!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =-=-
Who knew that you could play Quidditch the whole day, and not even realize when it was dinner time?
"I didn't even realize what time it was," I shrugged to Fred as he had fought the last Bludger into the crate of Quidditch equipment. I pulled my hair out of it's thick ponytail and let my brown hair hang.
"What I don't get," he replied, slamming the top of the crate closed, locking it with a heavy bronze lock. "Is how I played right through lunch. I don't miss lunch." He was right. In the seven years I had known Fred Weasley, I don't think he'd ever skipped a meal, even on Quidditch match days when everyone else was too nervous to eat even some dry toast. "Cause now I'm starving."
"Would you two hurry up," Angelina called from the cobblestone path up to the castle. She and everyone else were waiting for us to return the equipment to the locker room.
"What's the rush Angelina?" Fred asked. "You got a date or something." He rolled his eyes. Angelina always had to be on time, and it became annoying sometimes. Fred and I caught up to the rest of the group, when I had happened to stick my hands in my pockets and feel the letter I had gotten earlier that morning.
I frowned. My mother never sent me mail this earlier in the year. I stopped walking.
"What's the matter Lich?" Lee asked, turning around to face me.
"I'll meet you guys in the Great Hall, okay?" I replied. The others had turned around, looking worried. Except George.
"Don't want to be seen with us, huh?" he asked, looking at me like he was disgusted. "We're not good enough for you?" At that, Katie smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand.
"You don't know when to shut up, do you?" I heard her mutter before she turned back to me. "All right Licha," she said. "Come on guys, let's go. I'm starving." I watched as they all made their way up to the castle to eat.
I reached into my pocket again and pulled out the letter again. I absentmindedly made my way over to the lake as I slid my finger under the seal of the envelope. As the paper ripped, I hoped it wasn't anything bad. I couldn't help but wonder why my mother has sent it.
I pulled the letter out of the crème colored envelope, tucking the envelope back into my pocket. I unfolded the paper, only to reveal messy, quickened writing, compared to my mother's normally perfect loopy cursive.
Dear Alicia Marie,
I read as I sat down on the grass.
Dear Alicia Marie, Before I go on with this letter, I want you to know that both your father and I love you very much, and we always will. We love you more than anything in the world, and wish you could be here to talk to us at this time. Again, we love you so much, but I hate to be the one to tell you that we don't love each other like we used to anymore. We both think it's best for the two of us to split up and divorce. You're father is planning to move to London at the end of the week. We're not as happy as we used to be. We love each other, but we're not in love anymore. I know you'll understand that this is what's best for us and for you as well. I love you. -Mom
I gasped, my breath getting caught in my throat. I wasn't going to cry. It was now starting to get dark.
"I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry," I had to repeat to myself out loud. I honestly didn't understand. When had they started feeling like this? What hadn't the told me?
"I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry." I began talking out loud again as I hugged my knees. "This isn't right. It's probably a dream. I mean, maybe I fell off my broom and I'm really lying in a bed in the Hospital Wing, my friends leaning over my face, waiting for me to open my eyes. Or mom's just kidding, mad because I left a mess in my room before I left or something. Mom and Dad love each other"
"Who are you talking to, your imaginary friend?" I heard as I lifted my head up to see who it was. "Cause you know it's the only friend you have." George continued, standing in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. I didn't say anything, for once, and just stared up at him, swallowing the lump that was creeping up my throat.
"What, no 'Shut up George!'? No throwing rocks? Nothing?" he said. I kept looking at him, not daring to speak again, because I knew if I did, I'd cry. And I WOULD NOT cry in front of George Weasley. "They all sent me down here to make sure you weren't dead. Now I have to deliver the bad news to them and tell them you're alive."
He expected me to get mad, which believe me, I was, but I was keeping my mouth shut. I stared at him for another second before closing my eyes, knowing that I was going to cry soon. I kept my eyes shut for a bit, and when I opened them, I quickly wiped any trace of a tear that might have been there, and looked up to him again.
The look on his face turned from annoyed to almost worried.
"You all right Lich?" he asked, squatting in front of me, his muscular forearms resting in his legs.
"I'm fine," I replied, mentally kicking myself when a single tear rolled down my cheek. "I'm fine. Just go back up to the castle and tell everyone I'm fine."
I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry.
"No, I won't," he replied, actually sounding concerned. "Because you're not fine. You're not fine, and you're crying. I haven't seen you cry since first year when Marcus Flint ripped the head off your doll." I guess that I hadn't realized that my 'single tear' had turned into many tears. "You're not fine."
"Why do you care?" I yelled, standing up and throwing the letter to the ground. "You don't care at all, so don't pretend you do! I'm fine!" I was so embarrassed.
"I do care Alicia," he replied. It was he who was now looking up to me. "And stop telling me you're fine, because you're obviously not!"
"I'm fine!" I repeated. I watched as his eyes wandered to the letter which lay on the ground. "Go away George!" I fell back to my spot on the grass, eyelevel with him again, except I didn't look at him. I too kept my eyes on the letter.
"What's wrong Licha?" he asked. I shot him a look that said 'leave me alone'. By now, I knew I was crying more and more.
"I'm not going away until you tell me what's going on?" he continued. I looked back at him, seeing a look of worry on his face.
"Stop acting like you honestly care what's wrong George!" I yelled at him.
"I'm going to say this once more Alicia, and whether you believe me or not, I care!" he yelled back. He rested his head in his hands, before he suddenly looked back to the folded letter. I gasped as I watched him reach for it.
"NO!" I yelled, attempting to grab it before he did. It was none of his business. He grabbed my reaching wrist with his other hand. Damn those Beater reflexes. I tried to free my hand and get the letter, which he had in his right hand. I was no match for his strength, and knew as hard as I fought, I wasn't going to win. I stopped my struggle, and he let go of my hand.
"Don't read it George," I cried. "Please. Just... please. Don't read it."
"Then tell me what's going on," he replied, a stern look on his face. I said nothing. "I swear Alicia, you tell me what's going on, or I'll read this letter to the whole damn school. You know I will."
No! I couldn't let the whole school know about my personal, dysfunctional family life.
"Please George. Please!" I repeated.
"Alicia!" he replied. I knew he was being serious.
"Fine! Fine, I'll tell you!" I gave in. "Fine..." I took a deep breath before I continued. "My parents are divorcing and my dad's moving away! Happy? Are you happy now?" I could feel hot tears stream down my face from my now red eyes.
"Gosh Lich," he replied, almost awkwardly. He tossed the letter back to the ground and looked at me with that worried look. "I'm really sorry. That's got to be awful." I swallowed another lump as I tried to stop crying.
As I wiped my eyes on my now tear-soaked shirt, George made his way over next no me. I had stopped crying, but I still had that stupid lump in my throat.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, concerned.
"Probably not," I said flatly, and shrugged. "But I can't do anything about it." Then, I have no clue why, but I didn't something that I don't think I had ever done before.
I hugged George Weasley. Like I said, I don't know why I did it, but I did. I guess I just really needed to be comforted at the moment. He wrapped a heavy, yet comforting arm around my shoulders. I rested my head on his broad shoulder, and sniffled.
"I'm sure it's for the best Licha," he spoke up. "I mean, you want your parents to be happy, right?
"Of course I do," I replied. "But they were always happy. They never fought. Everything was perfect. We were a perfect. There was a father who worked his ass off to support the family, yet never missed his daughter's soccer games. There was a mother who ran errands and loves to shop and baked every day. And me, the daughter, who does great in school and all the neighbors love. We were perfect. Now, all there is is the dad who still works his ass off and sees his kid every other holiday, the mother who now has to work for the first time in her life, and me! Stupid me!"
"You're not stupid," he rolled his eyes. "Don't say that. And I'm sure things will be fine. So don't worry."
"Sure," I muttered. "Just fine."
We sat there for a few minutes in awkward silence, before he was, again, the one to speak up.
"Why do you hate me?" he asked. The question was completely out of the blue. I hadn't expected.
"What do you mean why do I hate you?" I replied. "I thought that was obvious; because you hate me." He chuckled, his chest bouncing up and down. "What are you laughing about?" I asked, scooting away from him. I was confused.
"I don't hate you," he smiled.
"Umm, you're not making any sense Weasel," I said, confused. "Well what exactly did you mean the billions of times you would yell at me 'Alicia Spinnet, I hate you!'? Or putting frogs in my bed? Or making fun of me? Or turning me purple and speechless?"
"It was the only way you would talk to me," I looked at him like he was crazy, which in my mind, he was. "After about third year, you started ignoring me. You always hung out with Angelina and Katie, and acted like you didn't even know me. We weren't best friends anymore, and I hated it. The only way you would ever talk to me was when you were yelling at me to go away or when you were telling me how stupid I was. So I figured if it took you being mad at me for you talk to me, then I'd have to settle with that."
I didn't want to admit it, but deep down inside, I knew he was right. I had ignored him. Except I hadn't realized until then that I had been doing it.
"I... I did not!" I protested, knowing very well that I had in fact ignored him.
"Yes you did," he laughed. "You can't argue with me. You acted like I was the algae growing at the bottom of your pool that no one wanted to clean."
"I don't have a pool."
"You know what I mean." He looked down to his silver watch. "I've been down here for half an hour. They're going to think I murdered you." He stood up and brushed the grass off his kaki pants. "Let's go and tell them what's going on."
"NO!" I jumped up. "No. Don't tell them George!"
"Why not?" he asked. "Why can't they know about the letter?"
"I don't want them to worry," I explained. "Because you know they will. Please George. I'm begging you. Please don't tell them! Please!"
"Alicia, they have to know sooner or later," he replied, raising an eyebrow.
"And I'll let them know," I assured. "Just not now. Please George. Please don't tell them. Promise me you won't tell them about the letter."
"Fine," he sighed. "I promise. But you'll tell them soon, right?"
"I'll tell them soon," I agreed. We began to walk back up to the castle.
"I'm going up to my room," I told him. "Just tell them you went outside, and I wasn't there, so you went up to the common room, and found me there. I told you that I wasn't feeling well, so I went to sleep early, got it?"
"I'm not so sure about this Lich," he replied as he opened the heavy door to the castle. "I don't think I like this whole idea of keeping things from everyone. It doesn't feel right."
"George! You promised!" I pleaded, looking up to his unsure brown eyes. "You promised me."
"And I don't intend on breaking that promise," he replied. "I just said that I'm not too comfortable with lying to our best friends. But if it really means that much to you..."
"It does," I quickly replied. "No I'm going up to my room. Don't forget, I was up there the whole time, alright?"
"Got it," he nodded as I made my way back up to Gryffindor Tower. I was about halfway up the stairs, and he almost to the door of the Great Hall, when I turned around.
"Hey George!" I called. He turned and faced me. "I'm sorry I ignored you."
He shrugged and gave me a half smile. "I thought you were sick? Go to sleep." And with that, we both made our ways to our destinations.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =-=-
Well there it is, Chapter Six! Did you like it? I think it turned out pretty good. Please review and let me know what you thought!
-Yoshi-fan2003: Did I write that? I'll be sure to go back and edit if I did. Thanks for the review!
-andrewsmyprincess: I can't see him hating someone either, that's why it's so fun to write it! And like you saw in the chapter, he didn't really hate her!
-Blandsaft: I couldn't tell you where it came from. My bestest friend ever and ever, Ryan, busted though my door one morning over Winter Break yelling that. I love Ryan! He's great! And hitting them with a banana? That's a bit violent, don't you think?
-CassandraTheEvil- That answers your question about the letter!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =-=-
Who knew that you could play Quidditch the whole day, and not even realize when it was dinner time?
"I didn't even realize what time it was," I shrugged to Fred as he had fought the last Bludger into the crate of Quidditch equipment. I pulled my hair out of it's thick ponytail and let my brown hair hang.
"What I don't get," he replied, slamming the top of the crate closed, locking it with a heavy bronze lock. "Is how I played right through lunch. I don't miss lunch." He was right. In the seven years I had known Fred Weasley, I don't think he'd ever skipped a meal, even on Quidditch match days when everyone else was too nervous to eat even some dry toast. "Cause now I'm starving."
"Would you two hurry up," Angelina called from the cobblestone path up to the castle. She and everyone else were waiting for us to return the equipment to the locker room.
"What's the rush Angelina?" Fred asked. "You got a date or something." He rolled his eyes. Angelina always had to be on time, and it became annoying sometimes. Fred and I caught up to the rest of the group, when I had happened to stick my hands in my pockets and feel the letter I had gotten earlier that morning.
I frowned. My mother never sent me mail this earlier in the year. I stopped walking.
"What's the matter Lich?" Lee asked, turning around to face me.
"I'll meet you guys in the Great Hall, okay?" I replied. The others had turned around, looking worried. Except George.
"Don't want to be seen with us, huh?" he asked, looking at me like he was disgusted. "We're not good enough for you?" At that, Katie smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand.
"You don't know when to shut up, do you?" I heard her mutter before she turned back to me. "All right Licha," she said. "Come on guys, let's go. I'm starving." I watched as they all made their way up to the castle to eat.
I reached into my pocket again and pulled out the letter again. I absentmindedly made my way over to the lake as I slid my finger under the seal of the envelope. As the paper ripped, I hoped it wasn't anything bad. I couldn't help but wonder why my mother has sent it.
I pulled the letter out of the crème colored envelope, tucking the envelope back into my pocket. I unfolded the paper, only to reveal messy, quickened writing, compared to my mother's normally perfect loopy cursive.
Dear Alicia Marie,
I read as I sat down on the grass.
Dear Alicia Marie, Before I go on with this letter, I want you to know that both your father and I love you very much, and we always will. We love you more than anything in the world, and wish you could be here to talk to us at this time. Again, we love you so much, but I hate to be the one to tell you that we don't love each other like we used to anymore. We both think it's best for the two of us to split up and divorce. You're father is planning to move to London at the end of the week. We're not as happy as we used to be. We love each other, but we're not in love anymore. I know you'll understand that this is what's best for us and for you as well. I love you. -Mom
I gasped, my breath getting caught in my throat. I wasn't going to cry. It was now starting to get dark.
"I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry," I had to repeat to myself out loud. I honestly didn't understand. When had they started feeling like this? What hadn't the told me?
"I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry." I began talking out loud again as I hugged my knees. "This isn't right. It's probably a dream. I mean, maybe I fell off my broom and I'm really lying in a bed in the Hospital Wing, my friends leaning over my face, waiting for me to open my eyes. Or mom's just kidding, mad because I left a mess in my room before I left or something. Mom and Dad love each other"
"Who are you talking to, your imaginary friend?" I heard as I lifted my head up to see who it was. "Cause you know it's the only friend you have." George continued, standing in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. I didn't say anything, for once, and just stared up at him, swallowing the lump that was creeping up my throat.
"What, no 'Shut up George!'? No throwing rocks? Nothing?" he said. I kept looking at him, not daring to speak again, because I knew if I did, I'd cry. And I WOULD NOT cry in front of George Weasley. "They all sent me down here to make sure you weren't dead. Now I have to deliver the bad news to them and tell them you're alive."
He expected me to get mad, which believe me, I was, but I was keeping my mouth shut. I stared at him for another second before closing my eyes, knowing that I was going to cry soon. I kept my eyes shut for a bit, and when I opened them, I quickly wiped any trace of a tear that might have been there, and looked up to him again.
The look on his face turned from annoyed to almost worried.
"You all right Lich?" he asked, squatting in front of me, his muscular forearms resting in his legs.
"I'm fine," I replied, mentally kicking myself when a single tear rolled down my cheek. "I'm fine. Just go back up to the castle and tell everyone I'm fine."
I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry.
"No, I won't," he replied, actually sounding concerned. "Because you're not fine. You're not fine, and you're crying. I haven't seen you cry since first year when Marcus Flint ripped the head off your doll." I guess that I hadn't realized that my 'single tear' had turned into many tears. "You're not fine."
"Why do you care?" I yelled, standing up and throwing the letter to the ground. "You don't care at all, so don't pretend you do! I'm fine!" I was so embarrassed.
"I do care Alicia," he replied. It was he who was now looking up to me. "And stop telling me you're fine, because you're obviously not!"
"I'm fine!" I repeated. I watched as his eyes wandered to the letter which lay on the ground. "Go away George!" I fell back to my spot on the grass, eyelevel with him again, except I didn't look at him. I too kept my eyes on the letter.
"What's wrong Licha?" he asked. I shot him a look that said 'leave me alone'. By now, I knew I was crying more and more.
"I'm not going away until you tell me what's going on?" he continued. I looked back at him, seeing a look of worry on his face.
"Stop acting like you honestly care what's wrong George!" I yelled at him.
"I'm going to say this once more Alicia, and whether you believe me or not, I care!" he yelled back. He rested his head in his hands, before he suddenly looked back to the folded letter. I gasped as I watched him reach for it.
"NO!" I yelled, attempting to grab it before he did. It was none of his business. He grabbed my reaching wrist with his other hand. Damn those Beater reflexes. I tried to free my hand and get the letter, which he had in his right hand. I was no match for his strength, and knew as hard as I fought, I wasn't going to win. I stopped my struggle, and he let go of my hand.
"Don't read it George," I cried. "Please. Just... please. Don't read it."
"Then tell me what's going on," he replied, a stern look on his face. I said nothing. "I swear Alicia, you tell me what's going on, or I'll read this letter to the whole damn school. You know I will."
No! I couldn't let the whole school know about my personal, dysfunctional family life.
"Please George. Please!" I repeated.
"Alicia!" he replied. I knew he was being serious.
"Fine! Fine, I'll tell you!" I gave in. "Fine..." I took a deep breath before I continued. "My parents are divorcing and my dad's moving away! Happy? Are you happy now?" I could feel hot tears stream down my face from my now red eyes.
"Gosh Lich," he replied, almost awkwardly. He tossed the letter back to the ground and looked at me with that worried look. "I'm really sorry. That's got to be awful." I swallowed another lump as I tried to stop crying.
As I wiped my eyes on my now tear-soaked shirt, George made his way over next no me. I had stopped crying, but I still had that stupid lump in my throat.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, concerned.
"Probably not," I said flatly, and shrugged. "But I can't do anything about it." Then, I have no clue why, but I didn't something that I don't think I had ever done before.
I hugged George Weasley. Like I said, I don't know why I did it, but I did. I guess I just really needed to be comforted at the moment. He wrapped a heavy, yet comforting arm around my shoulders. I rested my head on his broad shoulder, and sniffled.
"I'm sure it's for the best Licha," he spoke up. "I mean, you want your parents to be happy, right?
"Of course I do," I replied. "But they were always happy. They never fought. Everything was perfect. We were a perfect. There was a father who worked his ass off to support the family, yet never missed his daughter's soccer games. There was a mother who ran errands and loves to shop and baked every day. And me, the daughter, who does great in school and all the neighbors love. We were perfect. Now, all there is is the dad who still works his ass off and sees his kid every other holiday, the mother who now has to work for the first time in her life, and me! Stupid me!"
"You're not stupid," he rolled his eyes. "Don't say that. And I'm sure things will be fine. So don't worry."
"Sure," I muttered. "Just fine."
We sat there for a few minutes in awkward silence, before he was, again, the one to speak up.
"Why do you hate me?" he asked. The question was completely out of the blue. I hadn't expected.
"What do you mean why do I hate you?" I replied. "I thought that was obvious; because you hate me." He chuckled, his chest bouncing up and down. "What are you laughing about?" I asked, scooting away from him. I was confused.
"I don't hate you," he smiled.
"Umm, you're not making any sense Weasel," I said, confused. "Well what exactly did you mean the billions of times you would yell at me 'Alicia Spinnet, I hate you!'? Or putting frogs in my bed? Or making fun of me? Or turning me purple and speechless?"
"It was the only way you would talk to me," I looked at him like he was crazy, which in my mind, he was. "After about third year, you started ignoring me. You always hung out with Angelina and Katie, and acted like you didn't even know me. We weren't best friends anymore, and I hated it. The only way you would ever talk to me was when you were yelling at me to go away or when you were telling me how stupid I was. So I figured if it took you being mad at me for you talk to me, then I'd have to settle with that."
I didn't want to admit it, but deep down inside, I knew he was right. I had ignored him. Except I hadn't realized until then that I had been doing it.
"I... I did not!" I protested, knowing very well that I had in fact ignored him.
"Yes you did," he laughed. "You can't argue with me. You acted like I was the algae growing at the bottom of your pool that no one wanted to clean."
"I don't have a pool."
"You know what I mean." He looked down to his silver watch. "I've been down here for half an hour. They're going to think I murdered you." He stood up and brushed the grass off his kaki pants. "Let's go and tell them what's going on."
"NO!" I jumped up. "No. Don't tell them George!"
"Why not?" he asked. "Why can't they know about the letter?"
"I don't want them to worry," I explained. "Because you know they will. Please George. I'm begging you. Please don't tell them! Please!"
"Alicia, they have to know sooner or later," he replied, raising an eyebrow.
"And I'll let them know," I assured. "Just not now. Please George. Please don't tell them. Promise me you won't tell them about the letter."
"Fine," he sighed. "I promise. But you'll tell them soon, right?"
"I'll tell them soon," I agreed. We began to walk back up to the castle.
"I'm going up to my room," I told him. "Just tell them you went outside, and I wasn't there, so you went up to the common room, and found me there. I told you that I wasn't feeling well, so I went to sleep early, got it?"
"I'm not so sure about this Lich," he replied as he opened the heavy door to the castle. "I don't think I like this whole idea of keeping things from everyone. It doesn't feel right."
"George! You promised!" I pleaded, looking up to his unsure brown eyes. "You promised me."
"And I don't intend on breaking that promise," he replied. "I just said that I'm not too comfortable with lying to our best friends. But if it really means that much to you..."
"It does," I quickly replied. "No I'm going up to my room. Don't forget, I was up there the whole time, alright?"
"Got it," he nodded as I made my way back up to Gryffindor Tower. I was about halfway up the stairs, and he almost to the door of the Great Hall, when I turned around.
"Hey George!" I called. He turned and faced me. "I'm sorry I ignored you."
He shrugged and gave me a half smile. "I thought you were sick? Go to sleep." And with that, we both made our ways to our destinations.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =-=-
Well there it is, Chapter Six! Did you like it? I think it turned out pretty good. Please review and let me know what you thought!
-Yoshi-fan2003: Did I write that? I'll be sure to go back and edit if I did. Thanks for the review!
-andrewsmyprincess: I can't see him hating someone either, that's why it's so fun to write it! And like you saw in the chapter, he didn't really hate her!
-Blandsaft: I couldn't tell you where it came from. My bestest friend ever and ever, Ryan, busted though my door one morning over Winter Break yelling that. I love Ryan! He's great! And hitting them with a banana? That's a bit violent, don't you think?
-CassandraTheEvil- That answers your question about the letter!