Chapter Eight: End of Summer
A.K.A. Things Just Get Weirder and Weirder
"Dear Margaret… oh, what should I write?" Alison taps her lips with the tip of her quill, thinking. "…I'm having a good… no. Dear Margaret," she says, writing furiously, "I hope your summer is still going well. I'm not having the best summer. After all, I haven't seen you since the end of school and I miss you terribly. We'll probably be getting our Hogwarts letters soon. I expect—wait, I just got mine."
She stops writing, popping the Hogwarts seal and opening the letter. "'Dear Miss Thornewell,'" she reads, "'we would like to remind you to catch the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross station on September the first.' Blah, blah, blah… 'Sixth year students will require: The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 by Miranda Goshawk,' and… a shit load of books by Gilderoy Lockhart? Right, I'll just give this to Mum in a minute…"
Alison begins writing once more. "Do you want to meet up tomorrow at Flourish and Blotts? One o'clock should be good, I think. I'm going to owl Marcus and you can owl Oliver if you want. Love from Alison." She rolls the letter up and wraps it around her owl's leg, telling him to take the letter to Margaret.
She then begins to scratch another message on a piece of parchment. "Marcus: I'm just writing to ask if you could be at Flourish and Blotts tomorrow at one o'clock. Margaret and I are meeting there to buy our books. I thought it would be a good idea if you came, too, because… I miss you. It would mean a lot if you came. Sincerely, Alison."
"Oh, bloody hell! I just sent the owl to Margaret's! Oh, well, I'll just go give the Hogwarts letter to Mum now." She scurries down the stairs, yelling "Mum! Mum, I just got my Hogwarts letter!" She skids across the hall, stopping right next to where her mother and father stood, along with a few guests. She holds out the letter for her mother to take, which she does. "Mum, I've just gotten my letter. I sent an owl to Margaret asking her if we could meet at Flourish and Blotts tomorrow. I thought that was when you'd want to go, since—"
"That's fine," her mother answers, reading over the list. "Oh, by the way, Alison, these are the Flints and their son, Marcus." Marcus steps up from behind his parents, smirking at Alison, who is holding back the urge to squeal and hug him. "The Flints work with me and your father in the Ministry and they will be joining us on our trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Now, Marcus seems to be about your age. Why don't you two go play with that Muggle contraption your aunt bought you?"
Alison sulks but nonetheless leads Marcus into the den, where they stand for a full two minutes, not saying anything. "Hi, Marcus," Alison says finally, "it's good to see you. I was just writing you a letter and—mph!" Marcus was kissing her. "W-what… what the hell was that? Are you insane?" she whispers fiercely, blushing. "Our parents are right over in the next room! And… and you… you just…"
"Relax," he drawls, pulling her toward him. "It's not a big deal."
"Um… yes, it is. And there is something wrong with you. You have never once tried to kiss me and I am very freaked out right now."
"There's nothing wrong with me, Alison. I just missed you, that's all." He kisses her again and she glares at him and pushes him away.
"If you don't cut that out I will kick your arse, you got that? Now, sit," she growls, sitting down on the couch. He follows suit, frowning miserably. "Oh, stop that. It's not that bad, you know. I only made you stop trying to kiss me."
"Fine," Marcus mumbles, looking away. "So are we going to… um, do whatever it was your mum was talking about, then?"
"No, we are not going to play that stupid Muggle game. We are going to talk about why you're here and…" She suddenly stops, having just spotted something at the other end of the room. "We're also going to discuss why that the stupid pansy Draco Malfoy is standing in the doorway."
"Nice show," Draco sneers, staying where he is. "Father has come by to discuss business at the Ministry. I wanted to come because I heard you would be here, Flint. I have a proposition to make, which my father is already talking about with your father so be prepared to say yes."
"What are you on about, Malfoy?" Marcus glares at him and Alison merely stays on the couch next to him, deciding it's best for her not to say, or do, anything.
"Father is going to offer the Slytherin Quidditch team brand new broomsticks if you let me on the team. You can just put Higgs on second-string or something. I'm sure he'll be fine with it, since we're getting him a broom as well. He will still be part of the team, after all," the blond states arrogantly. "And do call me Draco."
Alison was furious at that. Terrence Higgs did not deserve to be booted off the team, considering that he was the only other decent person on the team besides Marcus, although Marcus wasn't exactly decent. Terrence Higgs was the only other person who was on the team that she could stand and he was the only person she excluded when she called Marcus's 'friends' a bunch of fairies and poufs.
"New brooms?" Marcus gapes in awe, interrupting Alison's thoughts. Alison rolls her eyes, but doesn't intervene knowing that she can do nothing about it. Both Marcus and his parents would say yes; it would save them the trouble of buying a new broom themselves. And she was sure none of them cared about kicking Terrence off the team.
"That's right, brand new, shiny Nimbus 2001s for the entire team. I was even thinking of getting a broom for your girlfriend there to help persuade you…."
"No!" screeches Alison. If she got a broom her parents would be forcing her to join the House team and fly all the time. She could not handle that. "I mean, um, I don't need a broom. I'm not on the House team and I'd never use it, anyway, so don't waste your money getting me one. Besides, I'm sure he's already convinced."
"Wonderful," Draco says, smirking widely.
"Draco!" a voice roars from around the corner. Soon, a tall man who looks very much like Draco stood in the doorway next to him. "Draco, we're…" He stops in mid-sentence, spotting Marcus and Alison, who are still sitting on the couch. He raises an eyebrow and simply stares at them expectantly.
Alison stands up quickly, grabbing Marcus and pulling him up, too. She quickly walks over to Draco's father and bows politely. "Mr. Malfoy, it is an honor to meet you. And may I say that you look very handsome today," she says, eyes sparkling. She'd never miss an opportunity to suck up to an adult whom she could benefit from. Besides, her mother would go mad if she wasn't polite to Lucius Malfoy, who 'has lots of power at the Ministry, Alison. You should respect him and his son; and his wife if she ever comes out of that bloody mansion.' "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Alison Thornewell."
"Yes… Miss Thornewell," he says, the sneer leaving his face. He brings her hand up to his mouth and kisses it lightly, while she stares at him in apparent shock and well-hidden disgust. "Draco's told me all about you. And you are indeed intelligent and polite, not to mention beautiful; although your glasses do mar your eyes…"
"I'm Marcus Flint, Mr. Malfoy," Marcus cuts in jealously, stepping quickly in between them.
"You must be her boyfriend," Mr. Malfoy sneers, "and the captain of the House Quidditch team. I expect that Draco's told you about the… proposition. Your parents have already said yes. All that's left is for you to put Draco on the team… at the start of term, of course." He smirks at them, then turns to exit the room. "See you tomorrow, then, Miss Thornewell."
"Yeah, see you," echoes Draco, grabbing Alison's hand and kissing it, just as father had done earlier. He then proceeds to rush out of the house after his father before either Alison or Marcus can respond.
"Gross!" Alison shouts as soon as she hears the front door close. "Draco just kissed my hand and his father was being a pervert! That's disgusting! I was only being polite, you know. He didn't have to over-react and assume I was coming on to him! Merlin, did you see the look on his face? He looked like a bloody pre—mph!"
Alison exhales deeply and glares at Marcus before punching him in the stomach. He holds his stomach in pain, looking up at her in pitiful disbelief. "Don't give me that, Marcus!" she screams. "I warned you!"
"Alison!" Margaret yells excitedly, rushing over to Alison. They hug each other tightly then begin walking along the street together. "I haven't seen you all summer! How are you?"
"I'm fine, Margaret. I would ask you, but that's the only thing I've been asking in the letters all summer. Anyway, we better hurry up and get inside Flourish and Blotts before our parents and possibly Oliver and Marcus—is Oliver coming?—start to worry or something."
"After we let our parents know we're still alive I want to go up on the top floor. I don't want to be down there with all that bustle and everything, getting squished up against all those people."
"Yeah," agrees Alison, following Margaret into the store. "And I can barely stand being in the same room with all these Lockhart fans, so I guess it will be alright… but I'm not leaning on the railing or looking over the edge!"
"Mum, Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Thornewell," Margaret says after having walked up to the front of the line, "we're here. Do you mind if we go wait up on the second level while you get our books?"
"No, we don't mind. Go ahead."
"Thanks," they call, running up the stairs, only to spot Oliver and Marcus, who are standing at opposite ends of a bookshelf, ignoring each other. Margaret is ecstatic to see Oliver, of course, and runs over to him and practically jumps into his arms.
Alison, having seen him the day before, was not that excited to see Marcus. And even if she was terribly excited, she was much too tired to do any jumping; into his arms or on his back or around him, in circles. Alison would not be jumping until two o'clock, when it didn't hurt to keep her eyes open. But maybe that had something to do with the fact that Margaret and Oliver were now snogging in the corner.
"Oi! Cut it out! I can barely keep my eyes open as it is!" Alison groans, sliding down to the floor with her back against the wall. She leans her head back against the wall, closes her eyes and yawns loudly. "Whose idea was it to be here at noon?"
"You wanted to come at one," Margaret says, pulling away from Oliver. "My mum didn't see what one hours difference would hurt and it looks like Marcus and Oliver's parents thought the same."
"No, no, not Marcus's parents," Alison drones sleepily, clutching Marcus's leg. "They were at my house yesterday. They thought that one o'clock was a good time, didn't they, Marcus? Your mum must've discussed it with my mum, who, in turn, told Marcus's mum to be here at noon, just to spite Alison. I mean me. And Oliver… well, he probably wanted to get here early to look at brooms or something. He likes waking up at ungodly hours of the day for Quidditch. It's ridiculous."
"Is not! Quidditch is very important!" Oliver shrieks. "And it's only noon! It's not even that early, you know. I usually get up at dawn to—"
"Ladies and gentleman," Gilderoy Lockhart suddenly booms from the first floor. "When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today to purchase my autobiography, Magical Me—" He pauses, letting the applause settle in. "—he had no idea he'd be leaving with my entire collected works… free of charge. Not to mention that he and his schoolmates will be getting a wonderful treat this year. I am pleased to announce that I will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
"No!" Alison, Margaret, Oliver and Marcus all scream at once. "Not Lockhart!" Of course, everyone else seems quite pleased about it, but they were Lockhart's fans! How else would they react?
"Eck, that's awful," squeaks Alison, still sitting on the floor with her eyes closed. "But it's inevitable, isn't it? There's no way we could have avoided having a pretty-boy teacher at school. I mean, most teachers are horrible, but then, every once in a while, you have the occasional heart-throb sort of teacher. Of course, I prefer the horrible ones like Professor Snape; at least he's mildly pleasant."
Oliver was about to say that he thought Alison was mad when suddenly Draco Malfoy was heard below them, scoffing at Harry Potter. "Bet you loved that, Potter! Famous Harry Potter, with your scar! Everyone worshipping you, you! And, of course, you make the front page with Lockhart!"
"Leave him alone," a small voice squeaks. The voice belongs to small red-headed girl, most likely a Weasley.
"Look at that!" he howls. "Potter's got himself a girlfriend!"
Draco's father came by, talking to Harry about something or other and they decided to tune everything out until there is a sudden crash. They all look down anxiously—except Alison, who is much too frightened; she looks down hesitantly—and see Arthur Weasley holding Lucius Malfoy by the collar, pushing him up against the bookcase.
There are several different voices in the air, each screaming a different thing. "No, Arthur, no!" is Mrs. Weasley. "Go, dad, go!" is the other Weasleys, mostly Fred and George. "Blood makes the grass grow! Kill, kill, kill!" That was Alison, who, immediately after having said it, slumps back against the wall and closes her eyes. Of course, after Alison's comment—although everyone thought it was due to Hagrid pulling them apart—the fight stops and the Malfoys run away like cowards, with Draco echoing his father as always.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any dialogue that may have been directly quoted from the book. Nor do I own the phrase "Blood makes the grass grow! Kill, kill, kill!" It is, I believe, a trademark phrase of the evil night at the Renaissance Festival. I, of course, have only said it way too enthusiastically, loudly, and… not exactly with everyone else, but that was their fault because they didn't say the whole thing!
A/N: Alright! First chapter for the second half! A quick note about the last chapter: the part with Neville has no significance. It is merely there because Neville is one of my favorite characters. As you read this story, you will see who my favorite characters are and you will also see which characters I despise. But of course you don't care about that.
Anyway, I have no idea how I will end this series thing… but I do know that it will not end until at least the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which will probably not have any aspects from the movie, especially not the way the characters look—definitely not Remus Lupin, who will soon be Alison's favorite teacher; or second favorite, I haven't decided. That's enough spoilers, even though it's not really a spoiler. It should've been pretty obvious.
Anyway, I have here a wonderful site that has great fanart and the perfect Neville Longbottom (He's really adorable!) The only bad thing about it is that the lady running it hasn't drawn Marcus. Back to the point, though; the site is www . minstrel book . net(slash) hpbook . htm Just erase the spaces and add the slash, after taking out (slash) of course. Or youcould just search for Ayne's Harry Potter Gallery ona search engine...I don't own the site, mind you, so don't go saying I said I do.
A good review for a good chapter and a bad review for a bad chapter, but always a review for a story, especially a good story. (By the way, is that a fragment? It has, like, thirty words in that sentence! How is that a fragment? Oh, who cares…? Damn it, I'm tired!)