Chapter 17: Proper Ladies Don't Play Nice
By: Jondy Macmillan
A/N: My brain can only take so much mush. Apparently, other people can too. I know this has gotten slightly (a lot) sidetracked with all the lovey dovey crap, but be patient, the story does move on. Hey, I am a slash romance writer…can't help it. (Although there is an alternate side story line, about the Pendragon Sisters and all, this story does indeed focus on relationships. Love conquers all, friends forever, yada, yada, yada. It's a play on human emotions. Umm. Yes. Even though I've been told I don't have any. Maybe a teen drama then? The wizarding OC? Not quite. Though…good idea.)
Okay, the A/N is getting longer than the fic. I'm done now. Not that anyone reads this. *Sighs* Well, if anyone does, R+R, please.
OH! And to Divingsiren (Fishy) who started the Giddy Brew art contest online I LOVE YOU. Look at all the pictures of my characters. Not that anyone reviews *grumbles* But hey! I know people are reading now, and look at all the gorgeous pictures!! *drools* Get them to draw the guys too! Thnx to whoever it was who said they loved Polaris. *hugs* And I'll try to design more normal characters…like I said, slash writer. Fond of gorgey guys. Although I think Sylvester's pretty normal. Pictures are so much cooler than stories…Viva la pretty boys. ~JONDY (Moony)
***
And so Christmas break ended with a bang. Every Saint grabbed her guy. Not that they could really celebrate this. By the time Bobby, Quant, and the rest of the students returned from holiday, no one ever would have guessed any of the girls had been bitten by the love bug. Okay, that wasn't true; Joshua and Elanore put up a disgusting show of affection every single day in the Great Hall, surprisingly without a single word of protest from any of the Slytherins. With Joshua being such a ladies' man in that house, one might have thought one of the girls would raise a hand in angry retribution. Yet the most their nauseating PDA's received was the occasional gag from Gethsemane and a clandestine glare from her best friend, Tisiphone.
Serendipity had been tip-toeing around the 'boyfriend' word ever since Polaris had taken her on that romantic picnic Christmas Day, fearing that Orpheus would take offense, somehow. And then there was Casey and Prue. Casey had easily dropped Garnet Sanford. The conversation had gone something along the lines of, "I can't date you anymore."
Garnet's lip had trembled, "W-what? W-why not? What did I do? Casey, tell me!"
Sardonically, Casey had replied, "Well, see, I've discovered I have issues dating redheads."
"B-but your hair's red," Garnet protested, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Exactly my point," he grinned triumphantly, "I knew you'd understand. You look like my sister."
"You don't have any sisters," she sobbed, trying to get what she'd done wrong.
"Actually, I have three stepsisters, but they're all blonde- however, that's not the point. Look, Garnet," he said kindly, "I need to concentrate on my work, not a relationship. Don't you want me to make beautiful music?"
Of course, she had nodded and tried to smile. Casey Hargrove had yet to make a girl hate him.
Prue, however, was not happy with this arrangement. Naturally, she'd been eavesdropping, and the first thing she did when the conversation ended was pull him into a corner and smack him with all her might.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Casey demanded, rubbing his cheek.
"Why did you break up with her?" Prue asked angrily.
"I thought you'd want me to," he shrugged indignantly, "You know, I can't really go with two girls at the same time. Well, I could, but it's not quite gentlemanly."
"I know that," the blonde girl crossed her arms, "But, I mean, I didn't want you to hurt her on my account…"
"Yeah, well, it wasn't all on your account," Casey walked over to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders, "She was too squeaky for me. If I didn't dump her soon, my ears were going to burst."
"You git. Now I'm going to have to listen to her cry over you," Prue frowned, "Because your ears hurt."
"And because of you. Feel guilty," he teased.
"I do," she paused, "But then I decide to blame everything on you. It makes me feel better immediately."
"I know something that's not going to make you feel so great," he scowled, "My brother's back at school. Word is, he's looking for you. So my question is, you going to break up with him, or am I?"
"Wow, you know how to ruin a girl's day," Prue pushed his arm off her shoulders, but he caught her wrist in the motion, "Stop. What if he sees us?"
"What if he does?" Casey asked indifferently, "You belong to me now, Prudence."
"Don't call me that," Prue tried to break his hold on her wrist, but instead his fingers crept up her hand and intertwined with hers, "I'm not an object, you know?"
"Doesn't matter," he stuck out his lower lip in a half pout, half grin, "You're still mine. Promise?"
With his other hand, Casey stuck out his pinky. Prue laughed at the ridiculous gesture, but he insisted, "Promise?"
Finally, Prue linked her pinky with his, "Promise."
Childishly, he asked, "Forever and ever?"
"I suppose," she giggled, "If I can stand you that long."
"You'll deal," he agreed, "Now, onto other matters. Do you really think I look like a god on stage?"
Gasping, Prue managed, "I knew you were eavesdropping! You sneak!"
"Hey, I needed the ego boost," he grinned.
"Doubtful," she shot back haughtily, extricating her hand from his, "If I'd known that, I doubt I'd ever have-"
"Kissed me?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, no, I still would have done that," Prue admitted, blushing.
"Good," he leaned in, pressing his lips lightly, chastely, to hers. After a few seconds, he pulled away, satisfied, "Now, what was it I asked Garnet that day? Who's a rock god?"
Exasperated, Prue said, "You are," then paused, "But you know, I do think Cerulean's prettier than you."
Which started a whole new line of conversation that no one wants to explore.
***
The event everyone was waiting for, breathlessly in fact, was the Slytherin party for New Year's. In actuality, it was over a week after the new year's dawn, but now everyone was back, and everyone was invited. Everyone on the A-list, that is. The Christmas affair had been small, tight-knit. Slightly sordid, in a manner of speaking. This party was going to be the be all and end all of the year.
Of course, they all thought so until one Joshua Kenth usurped the leadership of Jacob Dibson and Dirk Drake, directing their small minds into a more interesting direction. Huddled together in one corner of the common room, he discussed a new plan with the two boys. A better plan. A much more romantic plan.
"Elanore. Earth to Elanore," Dante Young waved a hand in front of the violet eyed girl's face, hoping beyond hope to gain some sign of recognition. They were in the midst of a study group for Charms, and she'd zoned once again.
"Give it up man," Perseus Elroy muttered, leaning back in the plush chair near the now near-death pine tree, adorned with fading fairy lights, "She's so into Kenth she probably won't notice you're alive for another two hours."
"I thought she was dating Sylvester, mate. She said so in Arithmancy, just a month ago," Dante declared triumphantly, glad he had some scrap of knowledge to lord over the other boy's head.
"People can break it off in a month. Lots of things happen in a month," Perseus shrugged, somewhat jealously, "Kenth always gets the girl, and word is, he's been after Kingston here for ages."
A raised eyebrow indicated Dante's position on the ordeal, "Word? Who's saying this?"
"Your girlfriend, for one," Perseus gestured over to where mousy brunette, Kiddy Bolton, was talking animatedly to Atlanta Zanzlyope, Dana Wingate, Oriole Toole, Trudy Swann, and Deianeira Britton, apparently about everyone and everything. Sighing, Dante knew it would be futile to stop her. Gossip was in her nature, if the way his brother boasted about his conquests was any indication.
Opting for a change of subject, Dante decided to delve into Perseus's personal life, "Hey, did you bag anyone knew over break?"
Perseus shook his head despondently, "I'm not really interested in anyone right now."
"Mate, I really think you need to start liking someone. Ever since Deianeira and you broke up, well," he glanced at the girl in question, noticing the way her legs just didn't seem to stop, "She's obviously over you. I heard she was after Casey Hargrove until Garnet Sanford got him in line, and didn't she go with Andrew, Atlanta, and Aero to that sauna type place up in the mountains over break? I know some of the older guys are hot on her tail too."
"Like who?" Perseus snapped, obviously not over his former flame, but unwilling to admit it.
"January Farrigan," Dante tried, "But he's with Caroline now. Gavin Laytner, though, I've seen eyeing her in the corridor."
"Ha," Perseus uttered dismissively, "Dee would never go for a Slytherin. Anyway, truth be told, she's after Kip."
"Really?" Now that was interesting.
"Yeah. That's why she hangs around Kiddy so much these days. That's why we broke up."
"Man, too bad. You know, maybe what you need is an older, more mature girl," Dante grinned mischievously, "I know for a fact Patricia Connery and Elizabeth Golden are both on the prowl."
"The Quidditch Announcer?" Perseus rolled his eyes, "I heard she only digs jocks. And Patricia seems so…so melodramatic."
"You can't be so picky when it comes to these things."
"He can too," Elanore interjected, finally tuning back in. Actually, Joshua, Dirk, and Jacob had gotten up and moved their conversation out of the Great Hall, but details, details. Who needs them?
"What do you mean, Kingston?" Dante frowned, "If he doesn't get a girlfriend in time for the party, he'll be out of options. He'll have to settle for one of those Slytherins. Belinda or Sadaline- oops, shouldn't talk about my future sister-in-law that way, but- or nauseating Juniper Boggs."
"Juniper's nice!" Elanore protested.
"She's Madame Bogg's daughter. Who knows where that girl's DNA comes from."
"Don't you get scientific on me, Dante Young," Elanore said snidely, "Just because you've been with the same girl your entire life doesn't mean the rest of us can't be a little choosy."
"Choosy? You've switched from Rufus to Sylvester to Joshua within two months. Next thing you know, you'll be dating a Gryffindor and have completely maneuvered through the houses. Oh, Perseus, there you go."
Elanore blushed, unwilling to say that she'd never actually dated Sylvester, and decided to clandestinely vanish Dante's seat while he wasn't looking in retaliation, "Hmph. Serves you right. Bugger it, I broke a nail," she then cried, but her crocodile tears weren't fooling anyone.
***
Prue broke up with Cerulean the next day. Sort of. Casey went with her, to lend a helping hand. As if. But, on the plus side, Reese O'Malley was granted a full exclusive for Hogwash's school romance section. The title said Hargrove and Gelliston? Too through. Twist? Hargrove and Gelliston. New, new. She always had been a sucker for strange titles. When Elanore and Rufus had broken up, the headline had read Trauma-rama. Orlando and Kingston seldomly seen as two? A rose in bloom.
Serendipity and Polaris had been the main story, until Sere went after Reese's boyfriend with what looked suspiciously like a teakettle. All Reese had done was complain about the press being silenced.
The actual article was bullshit. Events really went down like this:
"There's my girl," Cerulean exclaimed, arms spread wide. Hesitantly, Prue let herself be embraced, then backed up. Curiously, the redhead eyed Prue; her slightly stooped stance, her narrowed eyes, the frown on her face, then compared her to Casey, who's features were remarkably opposite in comparison. Something was wrong here.
Screwing up his mouth in a strange expression, Cerulean tugged at Casey's cheeks, trying to make the ends of his mouth point downwards, "You look too happy, little brother. What'd you do to Prue?"
Casey immediately scowled, "No fair. I didn't do anything to her that she didn't reciprocate."
Prue gasped, "Casey! You idiot!"
The blue eyed boy turned on her, saying, "Moron, he already figured it out. My brother may be an arse, but he's not stupid."
"I'm not?" Cerulean inquired innocently, although he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the way Casey had just thrown his arm over Prue's shoulders, even if she did immediately shrug it off.
"He's not?" Prue joked meekly.
"Hey," Cerulean remarked, then stopped, "Are you breaking up with me?"
"Is the idea too large for your tiny head?" Casey drawled, obviously enjoying the whole predicament.
"Casey," Prue warned again, "Don't be a tosser. Um, look Cerulean-"
"Oh no, no, no. You, missy, do not get to break up with me," he stopped and scratched his neck, pondering his words, "I get to break up with you."
"Wait a second!" Indignantly, Prue put her hands on her hips, "Why do you get to break up with me?"
"Because no one dumps Cerulean Xavier Hargrove," he replied pompously, shaking his head.
"Except Prue Gelliston," Casey intoned.
"Shut it, Casey," Prue exclaimed at exactly the same time Cerulean muttered, "Get bent, bro."
They looked at each other and laughed, Prue asking, "Why are we breaking up again?"
Cerulean sighed, "I guess because you and my little brother have this whole destiny thing going on. I guess I already knew that though. Which doesn't mean I have to think its any less corny or even like it. You were mine first."
"Of course I was," Prue said kindly, smiling, but also wondering why the Hargrove boys were so damned possessive, "You know, you really are sweet."
"Don't let it get around. Guess I'll have to get a new date to the New Year's Party, hmm?"
"Wait, you mean I have to go with Casey? No one told me this was part of the boyfriend obligations," Prue teased.
"Hey!" Naturally, no one listened to him.
"Prue?" Cerulean asked.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think Ghislaine Ranfree is as hot as me?"
The sound of her smacking him could be heard all the way down the corridor. Casey winced, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
***
"Bobby?" Sylvester asked despondently, having walked in on one of Elanore and Joshua's already famous make out sessions seconds before. His dreams were crushed.
As if anyone could give two damns.
"Hmm?" Bobby sounded off obediently. He always had been the good boy. Being off on the snowy alps with his brother Ronnie had done him some good. Ronnie's girlfriend, Bianca, was fabulously hilarious, and he'd had such a great time that the blonde almost wished he hadn't returned to school. Not that his mum wouldn't have flipped or anything had he chosen not to. Anyway, the academies in Bristol were rather scary.
"What are you doing?" The brunette plopped down unceremoniously beside him, obviously waiting for Bobby to ask why he was so upset. Bobby chose not to appease his friend. The cheapskate had bought him and the rest sucky Christmas presents, so why bother trying to waste comforting words?
The book in front of him was far more interesting. Ever since that night in the library, Bobby had become very interested in the history of the Pendragon sisters. Let the others run around with their hormones on overdrive. He had some real work to do.
Although he knew there were no good-paying jobs dealing with history in the British ministry of magic, with the exception of teaching jobs at Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and the already occupied one at Hogwarts in the near vicinity, it was in fact his real love. He'd heard of the magical restoration projects going on in America, and knew for a fact that two students from the three schools were chosen to go out there in their seventh year and work with the founders of the Enchanted Artifacts and Edifices Department of the American government system. All of whom had once held positions at the two prestigious magical academies (Sweetwater and Shimmercobble). It was a dream come true.
Well, not yet, but that's why Bobby had to work out this mystery and convince McGonagall that he had to be one of those two students. If he didn't get an early start now, there'd no way he could be involved in other projects later on in life.
So far though, he hadn't found out much at all. Only old legends. Once upon a time, Salazar Slytherin had fallen in love with the young maiden Serpentine, who turned out to be a goddess and gave him the gift of being a parseltongue. Once upon a time, he'd given his life for his soul mate, Godric Gryffindor. Yuck. Once upon a time, he'd had a beautiful daughter, with the face of an angel and the tongue of a devil. Once upon a time, he'd born a bastard son from his right testicle. Ugh, too much information. Once upon a time, he'd bred with the horse and their children became the stars in the sky, courtesy of a curse gone wrong. Once upon a time, he'd swallowed the world. Obviously, there was a lot of folklore surrounding this particular founder of Hogwarts.
What had proved useful were the variations of any legend mentioning the son of Slytherin. He was always half blood, but other things changed. In some, he'd been enchanted by a creature under the lake, which had turned out to be a beautiful sea witch. She was as evil as they came, and turned him into her pawn for world domination and the like, sending him off to do her bloody bidding. In others, the Pendragon sisters were actually his own siblings, the pure blooded daughters of Slytherin and his sister. More incest ensued, and most of the tales were rather half-baked. The best variations actually changed the names from the version he'd read the Icemen and the Saints.
Instead of Morgana, Hysteria, and Phillipa, they were called Morrigeare, Galamora, and Philomena, the first of which was tongue-less, the second of which was blind, and the third of which remained disfigured. That part seemed to be a theme. In these stories though, Morrigeare fell in love with her hybrid cousin, however, the results were streamlined to the original verse. The only real piece of information he'd really gathered involved the boy's name, Gradaver. It wasn't much, but it was something. Perhaps if he could find the hut that was in most of the legends, by taking the passageway, he could trace which story held some truth.
Sylvester wasn't interested in any of this, even though Bobby basically delivered the shortest versions of his theories possible. He just wanted to whine about Elanore.
"Dude, do I look like an agony aunt for The Prophet?" Bobby demanded.
Tilting his head, Sylvester examined his friend, "Well, from this angle, I suppose not. But, if you move into that light, and bow your head just so…"
"Get bent," he seethed in reply, annoyed that his friend couldn't care less about the great discoveries he was making.
"Hey, if you can't lend a sympathetic ear," Sylvester started, miffed, "Don't pretend you can. Shouldn't things be that simple?"
"Go away, Sylvester."
"Go away, Sylvester," the boy mocked, "That's what everyone said, "Maybe I'll go to Quant. He always listens."
"Sure he does," Bobby agreed, knowing full well Quant had developed a series of grunts and noises that seemed to work well when dealing with his friends, all the while staring at himself in the mirror.
"Well? Where is he?"
"I suspect he's making his hair elegantly disheveled in his own common room. You don't expect to find him here, do you?" Bobby asked incredulously, gesturing around the library, "I'm surprised you're here."
"Only because I thought you could help me in my time of need," Sylvester sniffed, gathering his things.
"Your time of need is always, Sylvester, so don't try guilt tripping me," Bobby frowned.
"No one cares about me," he whined, setting all his books back down, ignoring the warning, "You all left for Christmas, they wouldn't let me into the party."
"Hardly anyone went to the party," Bobby scoffed, "Who cares about that?"
"Frank, Casey, and the girls went."
"Like I said," Bobby returned to his book, "Hardly anyone."
"I heard it was a blast. I heard that's when…Elanore and Joshua hooked up. He doesn't deserve her, you know."
"Don't trust what you hear," the blonde intoned, seriously considering walking away. Except, he'd been here first, and the librarian was rather touchy about taking books out this week. She was doing inventory.
"I also heard Dirk Drake got with Dana Wingate," Sylvester said confidentially.
"Great," glancing up, Bobby muttered, "Frank must be ecstatic."
"Oh, know what else I heard?" the smile on the smaller boy's face was unmistakable, "That fairy boy Weslen was caught making out with Frank."
"Fabulous," Bobby continued, already coming up with a couple more preconceived answers and ready to figure out a nice way to usher his friend off. He really didn't go in for gossip much. Except, wait, "What?"
"Weslen. Wakefield," Sylvester said slowly, linking the words together, "Snogging."
As an afterthought he added, "Slytherin common room," which took longer to sound out then he'd bargained for, Bobby bet.
"So the wanker really is…" Bobby couldn't finish the sentence, but he knew Sylvester understood.
"It's disgusting," the other boy mused.
"Er," was all Bobby had to say about it. Whatever Frank wanted to do with other boys was his problem. He had a feeling that if he told Sylvester that, the other boy wouldn't understand. So instead he let the brunette tell him about all the tales of depraved debauchery Sylvester had only heard second hand, all the while reading the page in front of him.
Once upon a time, there lived three sisters. Each was incredibly beautiful, and each unbelievably magical. Unfortunately, each also had a single disfiguring flaw. The first, Morrigeare, could not speak, for she had no tongue. The next, Galamora, was born with her eyelids sealed shut, and the question of whether or not she could still see was up for debate. Philomena, the final sister, was born deformed at the hips, with large chunks of her body missing, yet her beauty was the greatest of all three. They were spurned, they were spurned, they were spurned, Bobby read.
There never was a happily ever after.
***
"Dueling," Professor Laedere intoned, "Is an art."
"So is snogging, apparently," Tisiphone Grant snickered, indicating Peregrine Vendelia and Cardinal Briallen, at it again near the podium.
"Miss Grant, refrain yourself," the Professor said sharply.
In a teasing reply, Tisiphone retorted, "Only if they do."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he waved a hand away, "Back to the subject matter."
"Back to the subject matter," the tiny blonde girl imitated behind his back, before turning to Elanore, Joshua, and Gethesemane, "Look at them. Doesn't that bother you?"
She was indicating Peregrine and Cardinal, but no one seemed to be getting her point. Timidly, Elanore said, "Well, they are a bit open about it, but then, I've no right to criticize at this point in time, do I?"
"Not at all," Joshua replied coolly, a smirk playing on his lips, "And if I were going to be disgusted by anyone, Tiff, I'd settle my energies on being grossed out by Ellie's little friends over there. Hargrove and Gelliston. Oh so sweet I could gag on my vomit as it comes up. Re-volting."
"Be nice," Elanore chided, and Joshua cast her an imperious look as if to say, 'I don't do nice'.
Which he didn't, but that was beside the point.
Gethsemane screeched, "I don't get it, Joshie. I don't get why you're with HER, why everyone else is effected by this infernal love bug thing."
"It's a disease," Tisiphone said firmly.
"It's fun," Elanore responded, more upbeat than anyone had ever seen her.
"I'll second that," Joshua approved, nuzzling the smaller, darker haired girl's neck.
"Joshua! Don't tease," giggled Elanore.
"Gross," his sister squealed.
Tisiphone glanced at her friend disdainfully, "No wonder you don't have a boyfriend."
"I could get a boyfriend if I wanted!" the brunette protested, tousling her hair and trying to look sexy. It didn't work well. Everyone's illusions of Gethsemane's allure had been shattered by her Barbie panty collection.
"Could not," the other girl retorted, fully expecting her words to be true. No way ugly, greasy Gethsemane could bag a guy when cute, tiny Tisiphone couldn't managed. Then again, she'd never expected breast-less Prue, geeky Elanore, or violent Serendipity to get one either. See how fate hated her.
"Could too," Gethsemane said childishly. Her brother rolled his eyes, this was most likely the stupidest argument he'd heard in a while. He watched Dirk Drake, who'd been fawning all over Prue at the other side of the room, with Casey seething, whisper what was most likely something naughty into the girl's ear.
Watching wasn't his style. Smoothly, Joshua flashed a winning grin at Elanore, "Want to go somewhere quiet?"
"We're in class, you horny arse," Elanore chirped back, not even flinching at his crestfallen expression, "Don't try the pity act with me. It won't work."
"Emotionless, cold-harded bint," Joshua whispered, nipping at her ear and hoping the smaller girl liked it when he talked dirty. Elanore giggled but firmly held her stance, "No snogging during class-time."
Professor Laedere, totally unaware that absolutely no one was listening to him clapped his hands, "Okay kids. Practical use time!"
"He's so cute," Serendipity told Prue, Bobby, and Sylvester cheerfully, totally ignoring everyone's groans around them. Practical use time was indeed the best part of the class, but it was a big disruption to ongoing conversations.
"You have Polaris," Sylvester said, scandalized.
"You have Orpheus," Prue hissed under her breath, "And that dude's just too old."
"I like older men," Serendipity replied happily, even though she'd never think of cheating on her newly found boyfriend (unless it was with somebody totally wicked, like Orpheus, and even then, it was only a maybe-possibly-sort of).
"Girls," Bobby muttered to Casey and Dirk, "And they say we have one track minds."
Casually, even fondly, Dirk said, "Oh, shut up, mudblood."
Casey's head whipped around faster than you could say 'obliterate', "What?"
"Relax, Casey," Prue said soothingly, "It was just a joke."
"Yeah," Dirk put in with a strange look on his face, as though he were berating himself for agreeing, "Oh god, I'm turning into one of you."
"Glad to have you onboard, Drake," Bobby slapped the boy on the back.
"Stone, no talking," the professor ordered good-naturedly, "Don't make me take points from Ravenclaw."
"Sorry, Professor."
"Alright then. Volunteers? Any? Come on, guys. Don't tell me any of you haven't listened to my speech on the hypnotizing defense."
Silence met his words.
"Great."
"I listened, Professor," Tisiphone batted her eyelashes, forgetting that he was annoyed with her from the beginning of class.
"Really, Miss Grant? I was under the impression you were deep in a conversation with Miss Kingston and the Kenth siblings."
"Hey," raising her hands in protest, Elanore interjected, "I had no part in any of this."
"I know, Miss Kingston. That's what I'm scolding you all about," again, the disgruntled teacher still managed to say this in a nice tone.
"Tisiphone wasn't listening, Professor Laedere. But I was," Gethsemane jumped at the chance to prove herself better than her friend.
Lifting an eyebrow skeptically, as he should, Professor Laedere asked, "Really?"
"Yes," she responded smugly, glaring at Tisiphone.
"Good. Grant, Kenth, get up on the table. Demonstrate for the class. Brings back fond memories, doesn't it Drake, Gelliston?" He said sharply to the two, who had fallen back into conversing quietly, "You will watch, and you will pass this class if I have to keep you after for weeks."
"We're already passing," Dirk muttered snidely.
"I heard that, and I'd think twice, if I were you, Mr. Drake," calmly, Professor Laedere gestured to the table, blue eyes bright, "Ladies?"
Grumbling all the way, Tisiphone hitched up her skirt and hopped up on the moon covered tabletop. It took Gethsemane a bit longer, as she was blushing the entire way and taking great care to hold the hem of her skirt tightly to the skin of her thighs. God forbid anyone saw anything more embarrassing than last time.
"So. Hypnotizing defenses," Tisiphone said cordially, with a look that read 'what the hell is that?'.
"The correct words, if you're wondering, girls, are nebulosus mentis. Not that they'll help if you're not sure what you're doing."
"Right, I'll go first," Tisiphone held up her wand, a springy cherry wood and unicorn tail hair version and shouted, "Tabidus!"
Instantly, the room warmed, but the center of the heat was flowing right towards Gethsemane, "The melting spell," Professor Laedere mused, "Potent."
Stuttering, Gethsemane managed, "Nebul-osis mens!"
In the aftermath, the professor eloquently muttered, "Shit."
And so came about the tale of the-stupid-slytherin-girl-who-used-one-of-the-most-powerful-mind-numbing-spells-in-existence, therefore rendering one of her best friends comatose for two months following. No one heard from Tisiphone Grant again until Valentine's Day, and boy was she pissed off then. But that was a different story for a later date.
~End Chapter 17~
Oh yes. I know nobody reads this, but still. I've noticed a few in discrepancies in this story, which I suppose happens when you don't have a beta or a proofreader or whatever. An audience, as well. Among them are: in chapter 15, Prue yells at Casey for not telling her he has glasses, then in 16, he tells her he wears glasses and she seems to have no clue. In chapter 1, Sylvester's last name magically changes from Ripley to Ridley. Also in 15, Garnet and Serendipity swap dresses. I can't remember if I fixed this part, but before, in 6, I had set Dana up with Krit, then put her with Frank at the dance. Stuff like that. So, my thing is, anyone who reviews and mentions a mistake that I don't have listed here wins a free Harry Potter fanfic of any coupling you like. Slash or regular, although slash is my forte. *chooses to ignore the fact that she's shamelessly plugging herself*