Chapter Five: In Which Charli Is Not In The Best Of Moods
Hey everyone, Johanna here with the update. RaFa would like to tell everyone she doesn't own Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, or her summer camps, which is where she got inspiration for the list of things we needed to work on in the play and that horrid circle game. *under her breath* Wow, a preteen American girl doesn't own those things? I'm so shocked.
RandomFandom: *gives the stinkeye* As your creator, I have the ability to do horrible things to you...
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
This chapter will be About The Play. Like, completely. I'm just warning you, it might get a little boring, but hey, it's my life here. There can't be exciting parts 24/7.
Anyway, that day was the day we practiced and talked about what we needed to work on. This part will be funny. I guarantee it. There were some pretty absurd ones. Like this one—
"Liz, what was that thing you started doing in 'The Invitation To The Jellicle Ball' when you were supposed to be singing with Benny?"
Liz blushed deeply. "Um...a cheerleading chant?"
"Liz..."
"I'm sorry, okay! I forgot the tune to the song!"
"How could you forget the tune?! It was playing right there at the time, Liz!"
"I don't know, I just did!"
Straw just sighed and turned to us. "Fred, Johanna—stop trying to do Cockney accents!"
"But they did them in the movie!" argued Fred.
"That was because they actually had them in the movie! You two just can't do them, even less so for you, Johanna, you have a lisp!"
Everyone other than Fred (there's a reason Charli is a Slytherin) sniggered at the mention of my lisp. I gave them my best death glare, which made them laugh even more (I swear, Charli sounds like a hyena when she laughs hard enough). I didn't have the best death glare when I was thirteen.
Straw just moved on. "Bella, stop flirting with me during songs. In fact, stop flirting with me altogether."
Bella pasted on an innocent look. "Why would you think I'm flirting with you? I've never even considered you remotely attractive."
Hailey snorted. "Then what do you call this?" She lowered her eyelids and smirked seductively, then swung her head to the side and batted her eyelashes in perfect imitation of Bella. Bella scowled.
Straw pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Okay," he said wearily. "Maggie, enunciate. You keep slurring for some reason. It sounds like you're saying 'kahfinerwahblynwehyurlossind asree.' It's, 'can you find your way blind when you're lost in the street.'"
"Can you find your way blind when you're lost in the street," repeated Maggie. "Got it."
"Alright then, rehearsal dismissed!" We all started rushing for our dorms. We leapt off the stage and crashed into the orchestra pit like we always did. I always got a kind of rush from that. It was scary for the split second when I was preparing to jump, but then I was falling and it didn't matter. I still landed hard on top of the tuba or cello or something like that. And not even I, the Girl Who Lived, could do anything about it. Wow, I get all philosophical and junk over the weirdest things.
I stood up and ran my hand through my hair for the umpteenth time since two days ago, when I decided to cut it short. It felt so odd having empty air where there was usually a braid (or if not a braid, a loose ponytail that I hurriedly gathered my hair into when I was gonna be late for class/Quidditch/rehearsal). Instead of my elbow-length, dark-red bird's nest, it was a neat little pixie cut (after I found out it was called that, I kept telling people that I was a Cornish pixie) that went to just above that one joint in the back of your neck, close to your shoulders. You know which one I mean. Wow, no wonder I'm not a Ravenclaw. I don't know what that joint is called, and I just rambled on for a paragraph about my hair. Ugh. Sorry 'bout that.
When I got back up to the dorm, I relayed the entire rehearsal to Angelina and Alicia ("The other kidth laughed at me becauthe of my lithp...lithp. Liiiithp. Litttthhhhp. WHOTHE CRUEL IDEA WATH IT TO PUT AN S IN LITHP?!"). Lane wasn't really listening. I think she was contemplating what name to call that one Ravenclaw she hates for some reason next. I think she's even weirder than me (and trust me, that is saying something).
I flopped down on my back across the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the heck I got myself into when I decided to audition.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"OUCH! Your elbow is digging into my stomach!"
"Well, I have to get under Maggie's arm somehow!"
"Yeah, if anything it's Maggie's fault for being so small!"
"HEY! Again with the size jokes!"
"Ohhhhhh, of course it's your duty to defend fellow hobbits, eh Char?"
"I'm not a hobbit! And don't call me Char!"
"Wow, she's touchy about her name..."
"You think that's bad, you should see what she does if you call her Charlotte."
We were doing that game where you each had to grab two people's hands and try to get back in a circle again. As you can see, we were concentrating far harder on arguing than actually doing what we were supposed to. Not that we found anything wrong with that.
Princess Slytherin (I honestly don't know why she's denying being a hobbit. I mean, she obviously is one), meanwhile, was still raging at us, saying several words that no twelve-year-old should in the process. Feisty one, that Charli-Char (she's gonna kill me when she reads that...). I don't think anyone really remembered that we still had Maggie in a strangle-hold until she spoke up irritably about it. We hastened to change positions, which started another round of sniping. I got the feeling it really got on Charli's nerves (that's why I got into it as much as possible).
We somehow got into a circle after something close to an hour and a half. We were wearily sent back to our dorms by Straw. I think he got a little more than he bargained for with us. But hey, that's what you get for rounding up a bunch of teenagers and telling them to put on a musical in their off-key voices.
Charli was still grousing when we left. "I wanted to do West Side Story, but no, it was too mature and they didn't want us to get any ideas...they didn't get mad when you two did a song from it..." We, of course, were not listening and obliviously warbling "Mr. Mistoffelees."
"Oh, well I never, was there ev-ah, a cat so cuh-lever as magical Mr. Mis-toff-e-lees!"
"LISTEN TO ME!"
"His manner is vague and aloof, and you would think there was nobody shy-ah—"
"STOP SINGING!"
"But his voice can be heard on the roof when he was curled up by the fiy-ah—"
"SHUT UP!"
"And he's sometimes been heard by the fire while he was about on the roof, at least we all heard that somebody purred which is incantestable proof..."
"IF ALL OF YOU DON'T JUST SHUT THE **** UP THEN I WILL PERSONALLY BEAT THE LIVING **** OUT OF BOTH OF YOU AND THEN RIP YOUR ORGANS OUT AND FEED THEM TO THOSE ****ING WEREWOLVES!"
We thought it would be an extremely good idea to run. Very, very fast.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Normal people would have tried not to get on that demented hobbit's bad side for at least two days.
You should know by now that we aren't normal people.
We insisted on bothering her as much as we could. We pranked the Slimerins, ignored her, made several more hobbit jokes, and...was that it? That wasn't it...
Ah, yes. The Invisible Charli.
It wasn't the same as just ignoring everything she said; it was ignoring her existence altogether. We basically just pretended she didn't exist or wasn't there all the time. Like at rehearsal, we would ask loudly "I wonder where Charli is...?" and scratch our heads exaggeratedly. When she snapped that she was right there and made one of her signature withering sarcastic quips, we would just continue. Several people were sent to the hospital wing for that, but we kept going. I guess we just have that Gryffindor brave-to-the-point-of-stupidity thing. Anyway, we just did things like that and tried really hard not to cry out in pain when she pounded us.
But then came the day when we were at rehearsal and Straw did roll call. The joke was sort of over by that point. But apparently Willie Iserfield didn't get the message. To this day I have no clue how that girl got into Ravenclaw. When "Charlotte DuCrall" got called, she leaped up from where she was sitting in the back, tore across the stage, and tackled Charli. Willie seized the poor little hobbit around the neck, clamped a hand over her mouth, and smashed her face into the floor. "SHE'S NOT HERE!" she shrieked. Both girls-with-boys'-names unded up in the hospital wing (the stage floor and Charli's fists/wand were very capable of breaking faces). They got in H-U-G-E huge trouble. I don't understand why Charli got in trouble. She just defended herself against a crazed fourth year.
What was the point of that story, you ask? Well, I'm glad you asked.
Never get on a Slytherin's bad side.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Johanna: Review...
RandomFandom: Say it. It's one word. It's not that hard. Millions of people say it every day.
Johanna: No.
RandomFandom: It's not a bad word. Parents teach their children to say it.
Johanna: FINE! Review, please. There! I said it! Happy?
RandomFandom: *smirks* Very.
