A/N: not much to say. YO! Oh but guess what? I'm going to a new school (a place called BPC) and my new friend there reads fanfiction! Tamora Pierce though (she's my favorite writer, but TP fanfictions tend to be boring. If you find this chapter to be incredibly strange, blame phat duck/Talya because she wet on my computer and wrote the line "…who in utter confusion was babbling about how I should get my nose hair clipped at the bakery" and it pretty much went from there. I meant to introduce an OC character in this chapter, but I never got around to it. Oh well. Thank you's are at the end (not that there are that many to thank this time. I guess people don't like warm cuddly feelings…)
Chapter 6:
After much contemplation, I decided that when it came to Evans, harassment wasn't always the best way to go. I had quite a lot of time to think about this, for I wasn't allowed out of the hospital wing for another week or two. Stuck in bed number thirty-seven, my only company was Sirius, who had taken a spell to the head and hadn't quite recovered yet. Oh, and the first year that fell into the lake, but he didn't really count. Freezing, self-centered beginners do not make for a good conversation. I turned toward Sirius, who in utter confusion was babbling about how I should get my nose hair clipped at the bakery.
"Uh, Sirius?" I asked tentatively.
"What? Wow, that nose-hair certainly shows."
"Actually, I just plucked it."
"Well," Sirius rudely said, "I'm sure you have some body part that needs a trim. Ear hair perhaps?"
"Sirius, I–"
Sirius interrupted once again. "Now there's no need to thank me, the joy on your face is all I need. Though tips are recommended." He grinned a lop-sided grin. My lop-sided grin.
"Hey!" I snapped, "That's my grin! Copyright and everything." I was kidding of course, but maybe in Sirius's current state he'd believe me.
"Oh yeah? Well take a look at this." He whipped out a parchment covered in scribbles, cleared his throat and began to dictate, adopting a more formal tone.
"To Mister Sirius Black, it is my great honor to present you the rights and ownership of 'The Grin.' I trust you will use it well. Sincerely, James Potter." He folded up the square of parchment, and once more gave me The Grin, the same one I "presented" him with. Sirius chuckled, adding,
"I'm so glad we see it the same way, Mr. Potter. I do LOVE that grin."
I glared at Sirius, replying, "Doesn't Madame Windleweed check on you about now?"
"Oh, that's not for a few more minutes, dear. Why so anxious?" Sirius questioned, adding under his breath, "He could really use a haircut, though."
"No reason."
Sirius accepted my vagueness with a wave of his hand. "Whatever. Seen any cute girls lately?"
"No." I didn't want to get into another Evans argument.
"Well I did. That house elf Minkle is really something, eh?"
Eww. This had gone too far. I called for Madame Windleweed and convinced her to give Sirius his potion early. He protested, shouting, "But he's the one who needs a haircut!"
As Sirius drifted off to sleep (still chattering), I looked back at the first year. Maybe he wasn't so bad.
I knew that the curses I used were not light, but TWO weeks! I forced fourteen days of Madame Windleweed down on Potter and Black, and rumor has it that Black suffered a head injury, which has yet to be fixed.
I'm feeling pretty proud of myself right about now.
I think I had a right to get upset. Anyone would have gotten mad. Maybe not as mad as I got, but still mad.
After 47 minutes of knocking, I decided to take a visit to their compartment. I slid open the door, and politely asked if they would stop.
"Do we have to?" James whined.
"Yes."
"Fine. We won't knock on the wall. Happy?"
"Very." It surprised me I didn't need to threaten them. That alone should have showed me they were up to something, but being the trusting, gullible girl that I am, I didn't question it.
I can sure be an idiot sometimes.
So I went back to my own compartment, and precisely three and a half minutes later, on page two hundred and nine – "Ah!" said Mr. Butterbur – Potter's voice traveled through the walls.
"Knock knock."
Oh my god. For some reason, I went along with it.
"Who's there?"
"Banana!"
Oh no.
"Banana who?" I hate this joke.
"Banana!"
"Banana who?" I mean REALLY hate this joke.
"Banana!"
"Banana who?" Not just the normal kind of hate, but hardcore.
"Banana!"
"Banana WHO?" And come on, who hasn't heard this joke a million times?
"BANANA!"
"BANANA WHO?" Potter is dead.
"BANANA!"
This time I didn't bother replying.
I went to their compartment instead.
"Evans! Couldn't stay away?"
I didn't mean for it to happen. I was angry. Potter had already mad me mad once today, but he just had to do it AGAIN.
I aimed a curse at him, but due to his stupid quidditch reflexes, he ducked. Sirius however, was conveniently sitting behind him. I guess my aim was off too, cause it hit him in the head. Oops.
I managed to hex Potter on my second try, and he went out cold. Hehe. Oh well.
I tiptoed back to the door, peered cautiously left and right, and stepped outside. I strode down to the end of the hall, then promptly turned around and went back, pretending I had just emerged from the door that led to the next set of compartments. I innocently opened Potter and Black's section, shrieking "WHAT HAPPENED?!"
It was a very low thing to do, I admit, but extremely satisfactory. Plus, everybody blamed Malfoy, and he's got a month of detention.
A/N: did you know that the official name for a '?!' is 'interabang?! (Interabang!) Isn't that awesome?! I learned from my new English teacher Ms. Chun.
I'm still not above begging for reviews. nods . I don't expect anybody will get that, unless Evan reads L/J fanfiction. I just felt like doing it anyways.
Oh yes, the thank you's:
(I don't thank anybody who's already been thanked for a certain review, because I hate in when authors drone on and on in these things (though it makes the chapter look wonderfully long)
phat duck: I'm so sorry about the mess I got you in. really. Trust me, it's going to work out and it will all be cleared up tomorrow. To everybody who's reading this thank you note: don't ask. Please.
Tom Felton's One and Only: thanks! (I love gushing reviews!)LOvEiNhEaVeN: look! I spelled your name right! (even if I did copy and paste). Shyea shyea (that's thank you in madrin, though I spelled it wrong)
And once again to phat duck –SORRY! SERIOUSLY. I LOVE YOU! (IN A FRIEND TYPE OF WAY OF COURSE)