Giddy Brew

Chapter 20: The Reign of Witch Weekly

A/N: So…um, Prue and Casey broke up, already. I sort of really wasn't planning on that quite yet. It was supposed to happen next chapter, and there wasn't going to be a girl involved. So what happened? A boy, of course. The author seems to have finally semi fallen in love, and it's pissing her off. Because naturally her shameless narcissism forces her to fall in love with a selfish, arrogant, overly egotistical, trouble with staying monogamous boy (read: someone just like her) except in the fact that he's really not even that cute. He's one of those people you have to meet, and then you're drawn to him, because he's that silky smooth, y'know? And you may be going, oh, she's only saying that because she's gone over him, but no, I have many witnesses, not including his thousands of ex-girlfriends. Ugh. bangs head on the keyboard I thought summer flings were supposed to be noncommittal, yeah? Love me.

Okay, now that I've bitched, this chapter doesn't really progress or explain anything. At all. It's filler, I guess, but it's fun.

"I never made a scene."

The UnionTaking Back Sunday

Steffie Devereaux was not just conventionally pretty. No, she wasn't. As if desiring to add insult to the injury Prue already suffered, nature had given Steffie the kind of supermodel good looks that most girls lusted after. Her short, dark hair hung in large Marilyn Monroe curls, shadowing her heavy lidded, ocean blue eyes, cute, pointy nose, and full lips, all set against skin so pale that it was practically translucent. Waif thin hips and an overlarge chest topped the opulent package, making her so gorgeous that Prue almost didn't blame Casey for wanting her.

Almost.

She was too disgusted with herself to cry anymore. Actually, she was rather ashamed that she had ever cried in the first place, because she was Prue Gelliston, and she despised crying. Especially over a worthless boy.

Angrily, her mind interjected, but Casey wasn't worthless.

Yes he was, she argued back.

No, he wasn't, it scolded, maybe as a boyfriend, but he was still a friend.

And she missed that too. Sure, it was disconcerting to see Casey fawning over someone other than herself, and drove her insanely jealous, but even more so, it was just depressing the way they never conversed at all. Their friendship had fallen apart.

Not that she needed him. She still had Serendipity and Elanore, the two best gal pals any girl could ever need…um, most of the time, anyway, when they weren't smooching with their boy toys. And even then, there was Dana, Atlanta, and a variety of other girls that she got on fine with. When she wasn't looking for an estrogen fest, she could go to one of the Icemen. Hell, she and Bobby were even better friends now than they'd ever been before. If she ever wanted to go on a serious 'hate my boyfriend' rant, she could go to Dirk, when he wasn't busy with Dana. And…she could talk to Cerulean. She hadn't really seen him much lately.

Unfortunately, she'd never realized how big a part Casey was in her life before they got involved. Somewhere along the way they'd developed a dynamic that she couldn't replace with anyone else.

Plus there was the little issue of, if she didn't start talking to him soon, her potion grade was going to majorly suffer. Professor Esquiline had made them partners this month. Already they'd destroyed two perfectly easy remedies and made a total catastrophe of a potion meant to keep nightmares away. Prue had been haunted of visions of clowns for a week.

Time to start socializing.

But first, backup.

"Psst. Psst. Dirk!" Prue nudged the green haired boy in the shoulder as he animatedly discussed the mechanics of magical finger paint, or more accurately, the mechanics of cleaning magical finger paint, with Dana. Apparently her two year old cousin had gotten into hers and smeared them all over their poor, muggle living room. What Dana had been doing with magical, unremovable finger paint was beyond her, but she had to admit she was absolutely godsmacked that Dirk had brought himself to care about it.

He shot her a dirty look and continued delving into removal methods with his semi-girlfriend.

Finally, Prue hit him upside the head and said, "Hey Dana, Dirky here wants to know if you'll date him. You will, of course."

"I will?" Dana asked, thrown at the sudden change of topic.

"Will you?" Dirk stopped himself from retaliating at Prue and smiled sweetly at Dana.

"Well, yeah."
"See. Good, now that we've settle that, I need your help, Drake."

"I will not help you get back together with Hargrove," he retorted instantaneously.

"…I don't want to get back together with Casey," Prue lied.

Both Dana and Dirk rolled their eyes.

"Okay, I don't want your help getting back together with Casey. I want your help…talking to him."

"Same thing," he declared.

"Is not. Look, we need to start talking again, no so we can rekindle whatever twisted romantic ideas you two are thinking of, but so my potions grade doesn't take a dive."

"…"

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"Don't make me beg, Drake."

"I think I will."

"Dirk…" Dana said sharply, "Come off it. Help her."

"Why should I? Prue, he was a gigantic prat to you. I mean, I'm pissed off at him, more than usual, that is, and I really don't think you should associate with the bastard anymore. I'll help you with potions…Professor Esquiline is my head of house you know, and I can be very persuasive. We'll get you a new lab partner."

Dana glanced knowingly at Prue, "Hey, girl, I think- but it couldn't be."

"But it sounds like," she grinned in reply.

"Definitely," laughed Dana, "How sweet."

"Aww," Prue agreed..

"What are you girls going on about?" Dirk asked, annoyed.

"You've been worried about me/her!" They chorused in unison.

"I most certainly have not!" he replied, flustered.

"You have," Dana insisted. Prue just chortled in accord.

Attempting to feebly change the subject, Dirk said in a rush, "Okay, okay, I'll help you talk to the git. But if you get hurt it's not on me."

"Naturally," Prue agreed reasonably.

Professor Esquiline was in one of her moods. Apparently, she had a bad run in with a bit of Professor Claire, who had quite accurately predicted a horrible breakup with Professor Flavian the day before. Last night, she walked in on Professor Singer and Tiberius forming quite the love nest. No one but her actually believed Professor Claire had made a real prediction- it was thought that the batty old woman had walked in on the lovers once or twice herself.

Unfortunately, this meant every time Prue tried to talk to Casey, who was steadily ignoring her, the potions mistress snapped and assigned the class even more work. Finally, sick of being worked into the ground, Dirk hit his fist against their shared desk (he was working next to them with Joshua) and hissed, "Hargrove, you better talk to Gelliston, or I'll kick your sorry bum all the way to Timbuktu."

Then, with a suave grin, he raised his hands and stuck them right into their cauldron, into the potion which they had surely screwed up. Then screamed bloody murder. His hands were breaking into viciously nasty looking boils. Professor Esquiline looked up and shrieked, "Drake?"

Hissing through his teeth, Dirk managed, "Professor, Hargrove spilled his potion on my hands."

Sharply, she looked at Casey and Prue and said, "Hargrove, Gelliston, detention, tonight, at six."

Aghast, Prue said, "But Professor, I didn't-"

"You obviously haven't helped Hargrove make the potion correctly- a sunshine elixir should not create boils," she said briskly, and everyone in the room became confused- they had been making a swamp mix, but still, both of them had mixed up the potion…

"Off to the hospital wing with you, Drake," she ordered.

"Oh, but Professor, I don't think I can make it on my own," he blinked a tear out of his eye.

Sighing, Professor Esquline said, "Very well. Kenth, go with him."

"N-no!" Dirk exclaimed as Joshua stood, "I think you'll have to take me Professor…what if the boils mutate before I reach there and I turn into a giant squid? Joshua won't be able to handle me. Only a full witch-"

"Oh, stop blubbering, Drake. I'll go. Miss Grant- oh, I'd forgotten, she's still at St. Mungo's…poor girl," the professor said ruefully, "Well then, Miss Alloy, please watch the class."

Dutifully, Eucalyptus, large and rotund, nodded her head of greasy hair.

After they had left, she grinned smugly at the rest of the class, "Okay kiddies, time to get serious. Who here feels like finishing my potion?"

She said it in such a way that it looked as though nobody had a choice. Finally she resolved that poor Deva Lewis and Odysseus Rue should do it, while she and her lab partner, Mitsy Arlington, sat back and watched.

Prue didn't feel too bad. At least she could talk to Casey now.

He turned and observed her coolly, "Dirk thinks you want to talk. About what?"

"You. And me," she saw a flicker in his eyes that was either hurt or annoyance and hurried on, "Not, y'know, US. But, you and I as friends."

"Prue…I don't know if I believe two people can be friends after they've loved each other..."

The blonde was hurt. Deeply. He said loved. As in past tense. She'd known, but it never really clicked. But damned if she would show him, the git. Resolutely she said, "Fine. You want to throw away a friendship of six years because we dated for what, two weeks? No problem," coldly, she continued, "But I sure as hell am not letting my potions grade fall because you don't want to talk to me. We're only partners for a week and a half. Think you can be social enough through that time so we can pass? Then you'll never have to talk to me again."

"That's not what I-"

"Honestly, I don't give a damn what you meant. You're right. It's impossible to be friends with someone you loved," she spat the last word, "And we never should have been together in the first place."

Wincing, Casey couldn't help but ask, "What do you mean?"

As if she hadn't even heard the question, Prue continued on nonetheless, her inner bitch raring to go, "I mean, I pretty much knew you only wanted me because I was dating your brother anyway- don't think I believed all that BS about you loving me since first year. And sure, I was interested. I mean, anything to get me away from Cerulean! He was so oppressive, but so sweet that I didn't want to break his heart. You were the obvious way out. I mean, Cer never would have accepted me leaving him for anyone other than his little brother. It worked out perfectly. And that 'loved' thing…well, I think it would be more appropriate to say you can't be friends with someone you dated. Because I've never loved anyone other than myself my entire life," she finished softly, mortified. She had just kept speaking, unable to stop the words from pouring out. Lies, all of them, but it looked as if Casey didn't know what to believe.

Miserably, he said, "D-did you really think all that?"

The rest of the class was quiet, even Eucalyptus, waiting for her answer.

"Yes," she said, even though her entire being was screaming, 'no, no, I loved you so much'.

Casey nodded grimly, accepting her answer.

Meekly, but not about to apologize if only because a tiny bit of her was glad he seemed so crushed, she asked, "So can we work in peace for the rest of the month?"

Of course, he couldn't be crushed- he was the one who had betrayed her.

Right?

His red head bobbed as he nodded in quiet agreement.

Deva and Odysseus had just completed the Slytherin girls' potion when Professor Esquline burst back into the room.

Cerulean paced back and forth, glancing at his watch apologetically for what seemed like the thousandth time. He flashed a winning smile at the frumpy looking witch seated on a stool in the corner, and she gazed back at him in such an adoring manner that he inwardly shuddered. He thought The Black Orbit's critics had been joking when they told him he made even middle aged witches swoon.

"Dear, maybe we should just start the interview without him…your youngest brother has been such a darling, and suggested doing individual interviews, which was in the plan anyway. We don't need Casey for your interview."

"Do Cherridy first," he barked back, then, in a gentler tone, he said, "I have something I need to talk to Casey about."

Sympathetically, the old witch nodded and pulled out her quill, the tip limp from use.

It was rather fun to watch Cherridy squirm as she asked him questions in a subdued tone about god knows what. Probably all the sordid things girls liked to read about. She was a Witch Weekly reporter, after all. Wow, his face was turning all kinds of red.

Casey walked in about five minutes into her questioning, threw a distasteful glance in her general direction, then asked Cerulean in a not so quiet tone, "Who's the old hag?"

Luckily, she seemed absorbed in something Cherridy was saying while wildly waving his arms in the air.

"A reporter," he rejoined, "Where have you been?"

Suddenly Cherridy yelled very loudly, "NO! I do NOT like her. I just, you know, like her," he finished lamely, blushing beet red. The old witch nodded emphatically, writing down his every word.

"Of course, my dear, if you say so," she muttered, then said in a low voice, "Sorry to our younger fans, young Mr. Hargrove has his heart set on one Matilda…"

"Squirt's giving away all his secrets," Casey frowned, "Thought we trained him better."

Impatiently, Cerulean waved his brother's comment away, "Yes, but, where have you been?"

"I had detention, all right?"

"With who?"

"Professor Esquiline, MOM. Would you like to know what I did?"

"Yeah," Cerulean replied sardonically, "I would."

"Geez, she had me cleaning her ancient cauldrons forever. Why the inquisition?" he demanded defensively.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't with Steffie Devereaux."

"Oh, great. How'd you find out?"

"Orpheus told me."

"Talking to the competition?"

"Shut up, runt. Look, I practically gift wrapped Prue for you. What the hell happened?"

Casey groaned, "For the love of Merlin, must you start? She was the reason I got detention anyway."

"What?"

"She goaded Dirk Drake into pulling some ridiculous stunt where he injured himself so that she could talk to me about upping our partner collaboration. As if I want to talk to her."

"…Casey, you chased this girl for years."

"And I got her, and I got bored. So what?"

"That's not like you."

Cerulean missed Casey's cringe, "Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought, big bro."

The older boy had nothing to say to that.

"Casey?" The reporter asked, delightedly wrapping up Cherridy's interview.

"How do you do?" he asked formally, bowing and everything.

"Oh, I'm lovely. I'm Mrs. Boyle, from Witch Weekly, but I'm sure you know that. Care to sit for an interview? We're doing a full expose on The Black Orbit and your new, upcoming album. I want every tawdry detail of your life."

Cherridy nodded vigorously, "She means it."

Over the witch's head, Casey mouthed to Cerulean, 'You didn't tell me it was THAT magazine'.

He wasn't feeling very apologetic, and shrugged in reply.

Mrs. Boyle cornered Casey away from his brothers, and motioned for him to sit on the rather uncomfortable stool Cherridy had recently occupied.

"Okay," she chirped, "Lets start with the basics. We know your name, Casey Hargrove, and you were born in October, correct?"

He nodded, "October 30."

"A day before Samhain," she whistled, "How fun. Absolutely delightful. So tell me the truth, do you like Hogwarts? Like all your classes? Hate any? Any Professors you'd like to jinx? Sports or clubs you play? Other than the band of course," flashing him a winning smile, she continued, "Favorite things to do? Shops? Places to go? Friends? And then of course, there's the girl question. Don't be afraid to spill it all. Get it all out- it's what our readers like."

Casey had the feeling he didn't want to get to that question. Instead, he started at the beginning, "Well, I love Hogwarts. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but its nice to get away from it all. My sisters used to make me play dress up with them, so I jumped at the chance to go to school and not act as a giant doll. I've been told it's not very masculine."

With a not-very self conscious laugh he continued, "Classes, classes. Well, waking up for them in the morning is never fun, is it? But I rather enjoy astronomy," pausing, Casey frowned, thinking of Prue, "I once tutored a girl in astronomy."

"A girl, do tell," the reporter gushed.

Instead, he continued, "Well, I also am fond of Dueling. It's good exercise, and then there's Muggle Studies…"

"You take muggle studies?"

"Oh yes," he replied with just the right amount of enthusiasm (he'd done this many times before), "It's one of my favorite classes. My best friend, Bobby Stone, is muggle born, you see. I thought it would be a good thing to learn about, don't you agree?"

"Yes, yes," she furiously scribbled it all down.

"Eh- don't you have a quick quotes quill, or something of the sort?"

"Oh no. I hate them, always misquoting, they are."

"Oh. Well then, as for classes I hate…potions is high on the list," he couldn't stop himself from continuing, even though he knew it was a bad idea, "I'm partnered with my ex girlfriend at the moment. A real shrew, that one."

"Really?" the old witch asked, a suspicious gleam in her eye.

"She used to date my brother, you know. I think she was using me as a way to get out of his and her relationship."

"Cerulean? I imagine he'd be splendid to date," she said dreamily.

"Oh? Yes, I suppose so. He's all right as far as brothers go. I get along with he and Cherridy much better than my others. Chester's constantly at my heels, and Cayan likes to rough me up a bit."

"No! Abuse?"

"Er- no. Just horseplay. Enough on the family," he said, knowing he'd get himself in trouble if he said anymore, "They're all great, just boringly normal. Back to school- I'm not all that fond of Herbology either. There was an incident my second year…"

"Incident?"

"I have to wear glasses now, if the nurse doesn't perform a charm on my eyes."

"Casey Hargrove in glasses! Ooh, I imagine you look so intelligent."

He wasn't sure why he was telling her all this. Usually in interviews he just ran down a list of stats and that was it. He suspected it was because…well, "I don't do any clubs- but I love going to Quidditch games. Two of my good friends are on our Ravenclaw team, chaser and keeper, you know, and then my ex-girlfriend is also beater," he added, grimacing, "And then I have a close friend in Gryffindor who is actually captain of their team."

Craftily, Mrs. Boyle soothed, "Tell me about this ex-girlfriend."

"Prue?"

"Is that her name?"

"Prue Gelliston, yes. There's not much to tell…"

"Oh, there's always something," she urged.

"We got together over Christmas hols, and like I said, she'd been together with my brother. I broke up with her when I found she'd been cheating on me."

"How horrid," the witch exclaimed.

"Yes, it was hard. We'd been friends long before we got together, but I'd always liked her."

"She played with your emotions, too, didn't she?"

Nodding, Casey continued with a sinking feeling in his heart. This wasn't good, "Oh yes. But I found a new love."

"Really? That's fab, darling. Fabbity fab, fab, fab. Tell me about her."

"Her name is Steffie, and she's a transfer student."

"Delightful!"

"It is, but…let's talk about stores…"

Cerulean's interview went differently. Mrs. Boyle, eager to use the information she'd gained from Casey instantly attacked, "Cerulean, tell me about this dreadful girl, Prue."

"Excuse me? What does Prue have anything to do with…"

"There now, dear, Casey's told me all about how she toyed with the both of you, no need to shed tears over some little harlot."

"Prue is not-"

"There, there, don't defend her. I know heartbreak can be-"

"You're barking. Prue Gelliston is nothing but a sweetheart, although, yes, I suppose she can be slightly domineering, but- lets talk about something else."

"New girlfriends?" Mrs. Boyle suggested sweetly.

"None."

"Oh dear, what drama," she sighed, "I suppose if it's too hard for you, we can move onto more tedious things."

"Please."

The rest of the interview went rather smoothly, until she gathered all the boys together and started questioning them on the album, "And how do you suppose it differs from your first two?"

"Oh, it's much more upbeat," Cherridy enthused, "But it does have a sort of melancholy that dulls the happy go lucky mood a bit. There's a lot of songs about breaking up and making up, that sort of thing."

"Our first album was much darker, more teenage angst than anything else," Cerulean agreed.

"And the second was very optimistic, but the overall tone was still quite manic," Casey put in, "I like this one best, I have some great solos."

"Can you give our readers a sneak peek at some song titles you're working on?"

"We can do better. The album is called 'Don't Fall In Love'," Casey said, and his brothers looked at him sharply. They'd never agreed on that.

Rebuking his statement, Cherridy started, "But we didn't-"

"We even have a cover design picked out," Cerulean interrupted, glaring at Casey, "You know that girl you were so keen on talking about, Mrs. Boyle? Prue Gelliston? Well she's agreed to model the cover art."

"I see! Sort of an I loved you once, and now you're just beautiful kind of thing," she chuckled, "Ah, young love."

All three boys seriously doubted the dumpy old witch had ever found 'young love'.

But Casey was too concerned with what Cerulean had said, "Since when-"

"And on the fold out we're thinking of photographing girls we know, friends and old lovers, that sort of thing," he informed her.

"Stunning, I'd bet."

"Yes, Hogwarts contains some very pretty girls."

"We have some good song titles," Cherridy put in mildly, slightly disturbed by the way his brothers seemed to be making all these decisions without him.

"Like what, kidling?"

Did she just call me that, he wondered, then shook his head and said, "Ancient Power is really good, with a strong bass and a drum solo that rocks. It's one of my favorites, but then Moonlighter is more fun to play. And Cinnamon Candy has a nasty refrain."

"That bad?"

"It means cool, Mrs. Boyle."

"Oh."

"I like Fire Over Helsinki," Casey said.

Cerulean had to add in that his favorite songs were Solaris and Vlad the Impaler, but that Silver Burns White was nice to sing.

"The CD isn't coming out until next year, correct?"

All the brothers agreed.

"So you won't be shooting the cover until, say, September?"

"No, probably not," Casey scowled at the mention of the cover Cerulean had volunteered Prue for. Even if he'd still been dating her, he'd wanted to put a cool picture on the front, like a retro moon phase out or something. He really didn't think modeling was her thing, and could imagine the way she was going to scream at Cerulean when she found out. The frown melted into a fond grin, and then he realized who he was thinking about (and what she'd done to him) and scowled again.

"Do you think, when we do the photo shoot tomorrow, I could get some candids of the girls you mentioned? Prue, Matilda, and Steffie?"

Smoothly Cerulean said, "I don't think that should be a problem."

And it wasn't. Somehow, Mrs. Boyle managed to convince all three girls into posing the next day without any of them making a fuss. Well, without Prue making a fuss.

The magazine was released a week later, near the end of Casey and Prue's partnership in potions. Although he'd agreed to be civil, neither person had exchanged more than a few terse words consisting of 'pass the dragon root' or 'I need some mandrake'. However, Prue's grade had been salvaged, which was what really mattered, she supposed.

She'd been pretty much taciturn about what happened at the photo shoot, except to tell Serendipity and Elanore that Matilda and Steffie had been there, or to mention how pretty the clothes she'd gotten to wear were.

Dirk was the one to pass the magazine on to Serendipity, too ashamed to confront Prue himself, not for the content, but for the fact that he'd actually ordered a copy of Witch Weekly, which Slytherin boys obviously did not do.

At the end of an already harrowing class (nobody had turned in their essay on the properties of fire opal, and Professor Esquiline was on the warpath), she approached the desk where Casey and Prue were silently packing up their things. All through the lecture, they'd both been uneasily aware of the stares they were receiving from people who had read the article, or that was the general supposition.

"Casey Hargrove," Serendipity hissed, "I never thought you'd go so low. The things you called poor Prue in this article," she waved the magazine in the air, but was careful to keep her voice quiet. Nobody wanted a scene.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, annoyed. Ever since he'd stopped talking to Prue, the other two Saints were rather cold to him.

"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Prue inquired, looking at the glossy mag curiously.

"Here," Sere shoved it at her friend, who quickly leafed through the pages to the article, headed by a large picture of Casey and his brothers grinning and making faces behind each others backs. Every time Cerulean would look seriously at the camera, Casey would contemptuously flip the audience off, and Cherridy would make a goofy face. When Cerulean glanced back, they would both appear as innocent as angels, and he would return to his suave posing.

All three boys were shirtless, dressed in leather pants with matching leather cords around their necks and bold black sayings written in paint across their chests. Cherridy's read lamely 'Boys Have Wings', while Cerulean's stated simply 'Want Me?'. Casey's declared 'I Am The Devil' in such heretical fashion that Prue couldn't help but laugh.

It was entitled "The Black Orbit Sings Sonnets For The Soul", and Casey whistled, "Oh maaan, that's corny."

"Shush," Prue waved him away, and a second passed in which he considered saying something, anything as a friendly retort. Maybe if he did, things would go back to normal. She very much wished he would. Closing his mouth, Casey just leaned against the side of the desk, skimming the first paragraph over her shoulder.

"The Black Orbit, hip, up and coming band," Prue read.

"Up and coming? We're already established," he seethed, and Serendipity just glared at him.

"Skip all that," the red headed girl said, "It's just info about the album and the songs. Turn the page."

"Don't Fall In Love," Prue mused before complying, "Cute title."

There were various pictures of all three boys throughout the next couple of pages, in somewhat compromising role play positions. Cherridy was dressed as a merman seated at a drum set, salt water dripping from his hair into his eyes in a rather seductive manner that Casey was sure their mum would flip over. It wasn't appropriate for a fifteen year old boy. Although his pose was not so kosher itself, as he was still wearing leather, except in a situation that looked more 'bondage' than rock. Occasionally the Casey on the page paused his flouncing around to flip the bird and cradle his guitar lovingly. Cerulean was wearing shining white metal and a microphone, apparently a pretty boy knight.

"Cute."

Sardonically, Casey nodded. When he saw the display on the next page, his first thought was, 'Who Is That?'. The model swayed slightly on the page, looking for all the world as though she'd rather do anything but be there. Still, his mind contributed, that's hot. Really hot.

She was thin and long limbed, in a short skirt made of different layers; dark blue satin, green and black ripped plaid, a sheer white cloth with patterns of the changing moon phases, silver and gold bits and pure white ruffles. Brown leather strips formed a corset like contraption that ended just below her breasts, which were barely covered by thin black silk, exposing a henna type tattoo pattern at their swell. Her legs were encased in torn black thigh highs, and she wore silver mary janes to contrast golden bangles around her wrist and ankle, and the gold planet studs in her ears, advertising the band. A tiny heart candy was clutched in her pouty, glossy lips, and a bubble flashed a close up, revealing that it read the album title, Don't Fall In Love. It was the same color as her long, curly, pink hair. Prue.

"Oh," he breathed, taken aback. The photographers had really outdone themselves. Then he noticed the strappy wings attatched to her back. They were black and blood red, and looked as though they belonged to a demon.

"It's a profile on you," Sere told Prue, "And basically summarizes the way you're an 'idiotic muggle born girl who screwed around with both boys before dropping them', and that under no circumstances should a 'hussy' like you be trusted ever again."

"I figured," Prue frowned, but flipped the page. There were two more spreads dedicated to single girls- one a thin waif dressed in a white sheath that bagged over a suede brown belt with matching boots and silver jewelry dangling on her arms next to matching suede cuffs. White angel wings were just visible under her mess of dark hair, and her bright eyes blinked innocently up at the camera as she assumed various 'sexy' poses. Steffie.

The other girl was tanned, decked out in a green, pink, and silver glittery tube dress that fit like a second skin, except for the flared mini. Her jewelry was also silver, and sparkles adorned her face in various places to match the thin, gossamer fairy wings on her back. Matilda.

"Wow, they look gorgeous," Prue said in a falsely cheerful voice. Mrs. Boyle had made no attempt to hide her contempt for Prue the second she'd stepped into the room, and had even suggested dressing her up as a hag, but Cerulean, who oversaw the whole thing, and the photographer, who seemed slightly infatuated with her, would have none of it. They decided if Steffie would be an angel, and Matilda a fairy, Prue could indeed be a demon. But a gorgeous one. It had been rather fun, except for the last picture, which Casey flipped the page to reveal, where all three girls stood together, Matilda clinging to Prue's arm and laughing and waving at the camera while Steffie cozied up to her other side and kept flashing her left hand at her. On her ring finger was a perfect silver band.

Prue knew it was just one of Mrs. Boyle's props to stir up the general public, but it still bothered her. Apparently Casey was slightly bothered by it as well, "What in the world is that?"

Dryly, the pink haired girl replied, "Oh, didn't you know? Steffie and yourself are engaged."

"We most certainly are not."

"I know that. But Mrs. Boyle decided to add a little drama for 'her readers'."

"Screw the readers. I don't want Steffie getting weird ideas in her head."

"Too late for that," Serendipity put in meanly.

"Lay off, Sere," he snapped back.

"Can't you kids play nice?" Prue timidly asked. She wasn't sure who to side with in this situation.

"Can't you?" Casey retorted.

Okay, that was settled. Side with Serendipity, "No."

Glancing back and forth between her friends, Serendipity said, "You know, I bet Prue gets lots of hate mail for this."

"Search me if I care," Casey picked up his book, "Lovely talking with you ladies, but I have to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"So do we!" Serendipity called after his retreating back, "Geez, he could have waited for us."

"No, I don't think he could have," Prue said sadly. She tucked the magazine in her bag so that she could read it later. Was it just her, or had Casey seemed angry at her? She knew he didn't want to be friends, and she hadn't thought it strange- even though he WAS the one who had broken it off with her.

But now that she thought about it…

RR. Yes, I know it was a craptacular chapter. My thoughts weren't very cohesive, were they. Oh dear. That's because I'm suffering from writer's block. And quite frankly, furthering the 'plot' part of the story bores me. I tried, I really did, but I prefer to leave plots to fanfics and original stories rather than mushy 'for fun' stories. So, yeah, there. Review anyway, please, even if it's to tell me how much I suck.