Number Two

207 7 2
                                    

A/N: I'm a little nervous about this, as I've never written humor before. So please R/R and remember, reviews are better than butter-beer!

Rose Weasley is an idiot. That's it, plain and simple. Says it right there. The Cold Hard Truth.

Rose Weasley is me, unfortunately. I'm a Hogwarts fifth year, 5'6 with bright green eyes. Oh, yes. And I've got bushy red hair, which I've reccently had to accept is not strawberry bolonde.

Somehow I managed to inherit both of my parents' bad genes. Just my luck. Story of My Life.

But, woe! That Story and that Life are soon to come to a bitter end! For I have done the unthinkable! (No, I haven't agreed to help with one of Fred and James pranks. But nearly as bad.)

I, Rose Weasley, yes a Wotter, have snogged a Malfoy. And not just any Malfoy; the worst of the brethren, Scorpius!

I'm sure that you are all making suitable noises of shock and despair. I'm listening out for them. Listening hard. I'm really straining my ears now guys. No? No. Rude.

But really, what will Dad say? Well, actually, I know perfectly well what he would say, but that is most certainly not suitable for the ears of young children.

A/N: This chapter is pretty much just a blurb, because it's literally so short. Sorry!

*****

A/N: Sorry I took so long, hope you like it.

First of, lets get this straight.

If you think you're reading a classic love/hate story, the tale of two sexualy frustrated frenemies; stop right there. Yes, you. Now back away, slowly.

Now run like shit.

I didn't want to snog Malfoy. It was not a case of too much to drink, a sudden attraction and a quickie. Oh no.

The slimy git kissed me! The little bugger.

Now, see, if I hadn't been so very caught of guard, I'd have stopped it and socked him one.

Of course I would. Silly question.

But as it happened, and these things do, it went on a little while. So after that I made the obvious choice; sprint like a bloody Nargle was on my case.

That's where I am now, Monday morning in my dorm, half dressed. (No, I'm not going to tell you which half, you pervert at the back there.)

"Get off your bloody arse, bitch, or I'll shove my hair curlers up it!" Ahhh, Dommy. My charming cousin.

"Bugger," That's her again. She threw the curlers at me and then realized that she'd broke them and would now have to go down with half curled hair.

Idiot.

"Repairo," Alice, my other friend, said exasperated, while simultaneously tugging on her shoe.

Together we make the Awesome Girls! (Shut your face, we we're 12)

"THANKS ALICE!" Dom cried, and then launch herself at poor Alice, thus re-breaking the curlers, and knocking Alice back onto her neatly made bed.

These are the times I question my friendship choices.

Dom is blonde, 5'4, due to her Veela genes. Lucky git.

She's had a string of boyfriend in it for a shag, and has once used up the entire supply of Hogwarts chocolate ice cream in a week.

She's quite lively, Dommy is.

Shit. She's just ripped my satchel.

Lively is an understatement.

Alice is now fixing my satchel, which brings me on to her.

Alice is quietly pretty, with brown waves and big 'I'm the girl your mother warned you about' eyes.

But perhaps the most distinctive thing about Alice is that she doesn't date. Never even got kissed, for all I know.

Maybe it's got something to do with her dad being head of Gryffindor, but she just never has, and maybe never will.

She's finishing my late Transfiguration essay now, bless her little heart.

Well, shit, she's doing Dom's. I'm offended.

*~*~*~*~

We met the boys halfway there.

James ll, another cousin of mine. Bloody hell, the place is full of them. He's as bad as Dom for mischief. You wouldn't know it, but James is a super geek. Sucker for the Lord of the Rings, and other fantasy shit.

Hell, the kid's a wizard, you'd think that'd be fantasy enough for him, no?

Then there's Scorpius, to my profound disappointment, but the others seem oblivious to my wails of despair. Malfoy probably slipped something into their pumpkin juice.

Last we got Jake, regular bad boy. As if. He's like a big cuddly bear, with about the same amount of brains as one too.

But hey, we love him.

So there you have the Bad-Ass Boyz. (I wish I could say they we're only twelve too,)

We sit down next to Louis and Hugo, (both Hufflepuffs, but most of our cousins crowd our table) who are discussing the pros and cons or Wotter or Peasley.

"I still think Peasley's more memorable," argued Louis.

Hugo nodded.

"True, but Wotter has a certain ring to it,"

"I vote Wotter," James sank into the seat next to them.

"Yeah," Alice agreed. "Peasley sounds weird."

I tried to eat my toast as inconspicuously as I could, avoiding Scorpius' eye.

It appeared he was doing the same, because he wasn't saying a word.

That was good, because he normally talks our ears off about nonsense no one wants to hear, expect the others feel obliged to reply.

They don't actually care what he has to say. Of course not.

Anyway, at least he shut up. Makes a change. Maybe I should snog him more often.

Please let us all pretend that thought never entered my head.

Are we done? Thank you.

A/N: Bit of a filler, just to let you get to know everyone. I promise more will happen next time, and there will be more writing as well!

Guys, please comment, to criticize or whatever. It's really appreciated, and helpful!

Thanks!

Quaffles and WafflesWhere stories live. Discover now