Once Upon a Time

Created by teigerlillies and read 671 times.

Introduction This is a chapter from a Harry Potter Fanfic on my account on Wattpad. Just click on this link to find out what happens before and after this chapter! http://www.wattpad.com/story/10257902-once-upon-a-time

Chapter 1 - Fuck you, Fred Weasley

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Fuck you, Fred Weasley



Over the next few weeks, I try to survive the massive amounts of homework I get from teachers in every class. A month’s dream diary from Trelawney, a foot long essay on the use of moonstones for Snape, a foot-and-a-half long essay on giant wars for Binns that I’m not even going to bother doing, practicing spells for Remus, Flitwick, and McGonagall…. And that was just the first few days.



Care of Magical Creatures is the only class that I don’t receive homework in, because now, in every class first through seventh year, are taking care of flobberworms.



Yeah. Flobberworms.



Small, grayish brown, and probably no real use to the world. And Hagrid expects us to take care of them. I don’t even know if the things have mouths!



At the start of October, though, another thing adds to the pile of stress I have. But at least this time, it’s something fun and definitely worth doing.



“This is our last chance-my last chance-to win the Quidditch cup,” Oliver says, pacing in front of the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as we sit in the chilly locker rooms early one morning. “I’ll be leaving at the end of this year. I’ll never get another shot at it.”



I look down sadly. I’ll definitely miss him next year, when I’m not able to see him each day. Well, that is, if I make it through this year without being expelled.



“Gryffindor hasn’t won for seven years now,” Oliver continues. “Okay, so we’ve had the worst luck in the world-injuries-then the tournament getting called off last year-“



“Oliver, if you don’t remember, there was also a triple attack that day!” I break in. “And you were one of those people! We wouldn’t have had a chance, even if we had played, since you weren’t here!”



He smiles slightly. “We know we’ve got the best-ruddy-team-in-the-school,” he says, punching a fist into his other hand, the manic glint in his eye that he always gets during Quidditch.



“We’ve got three superb Chasers.” Oliver points at Alicia, Angelina, and I. I beam at him.



“We’ve got two unbeatable Beaters.”



“Stop it, Oliver, you’re embarrassing us,” Fred and George say together, pretending to blush. I roll my eyes at them.



“And we’ve got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!” Oliver finishes, looking at Harry proudly. “And me,” he says thoughtfully.



“We think you’re very good too, Oliver.” George says.



“Spanking good Keeper,” Fred adds.



“You’re amazing,” I assure Oliver. “Just wear your Olive Boy cape at the next match, and use your superpowers, and POOF! We win!”



Oliver starts pacing again. “The point is, the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I’ve thought the thing was in the bag. And then Sapphire came along, and I felt that we would finally get it. But we haven’t got it, and this year’s the last chance we’ll get to finally see our name on the thing…”



He speaks so dejectedly that even Fred and George have looks of sympathy on their faces.



“Oliver, this year’s our year,” Fred says determinedly.



“We’ll do it, Oliver!” Angelina exclaims.



“Definitely,” Harry agrees.



Full of fresh determination, we start training sessions. Three evenings a week, and sometimes four or five when Oliver drags me out to the pitch for one-on-one practices. No matter how cold, wet, or dark it gets over hours, days, and then weeks, nothing could damper the Gryffindor team’s vision of winning the cup.



One night after practice, I return to the common room with Fred and George to find the room buzzing excitedly.



I look towards the small group of people around the battered old bulletin board, and I move closer to see what happened. I smile brightly when I read the notice.



“First Hogsmeade weekend!” I exclaim with excitement. “Halloween!”



“Excellent!” Fred says from next to me. “I need to visit Zonko’s. I’m nearly out of Stink Pellets.”



I smile slightly when he says that, remembering the day Sirius stomped into Defense Against the Dark Arts ten minutes late, smelling like tuna fish and rotten eggs, his hair sopping wet and his wand drawn, pointed straight at James. According to the yells of Sirius, James had thrown Stink Pellets into Sirius’s shower.



It took Professor Gold a good fifteen minutes to quiet the class’s laughter.



I quickly run up to my room, change out of my Quidditch robes, grab some of my homework, and then head back downstairs. I have a huge essay due tomorrow, that I’ve been too lazy to start on.



“Hey, Saph?” Fred asks nervously as I frantically skim the pages of my Potions textbook. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me.”



It takes a few moments for his words to process. When they do, I freeze, my quill suspended in mid-air, dripping ink onto the parchment.



“What?”



“Not on a date!” he says quickly. “It’s just… well, I have a crush on this one girl, and I don’t know if she likes me, so I’m going to try and make her jealous.”



I give him a weary look. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to make a girl jealous?”



“Well… can you, though? Please?”



“Fred…”



“Pretty please?”



“Fred-“



“Pretty please with a cherry and chopped nuts on top?”



“Fred-“



“Pretty please with a cherry and chopped nuts on top, with a pound of chocolate frogs on the side?”



“FINE!” I yell, my patience ending right then. “But you owe me exactly what you said.”



Fred whoops and runs up to his dorm, shouting, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”



Ginny walks over to me. I realize I haven’t spent much time with her for a while. “What was that about?”



“I have a date,” I say grumpily.



“Well, you just seem like a ray of sunshine, don’t you?”



“That’s because that date is with your brother.”



She looks horrified. “Please tell me it isn’t with Percy!”



I feel offended that she would even think I would stoop that low.



“It’s with Fred,” I sigh. “But it’s not really a date, he just wants to make his crush jealous.”



“Who’s his crush?”



“No clue.”



“Why did you agree?”



“He was annoying me.”



“Is the reason why you’re annoyed because he doesn’t really like you?”



I just stare at her. “Ginny, I don’t like any boys that way!”



“Except for Oliver.”



“Not even Oliver,” I say.



“Right,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Well, have fun on your date. But not too much fun!”



“GINNY!”



She laughs and runs away before I can strangle her for even thinking that. I mean, come on. She’s twelve years old. She shouldn’t be thinking like that.



On second thought, I think a lot of people started having those kinds of thoughts at her age. Even me.



Who am I kidding?



Especially me!



“OY!” Ron yells suddenly from behind me. “GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!”



Ah. Even before I turn around, I can tell that Crookshanks has attacked once again.



“Ron, don’t hurt him!” Hermione squeals as I watch Ron whirls his bag around, Crookshanks clinging to it, and then Scabbers comes flying out of the top.



“CATCH THAT CAT!” Ron roars loudly as Crookshanks frees himself, springs over their table, and chases the terrified and squeaking Scabbers.



George lunges for Crookshanks, but misses. Scabbers, on the other hand, streaks through at least twenty pairs of legs and beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skids to a stop, crouching low and making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.



Ron and Hermione sprint over, each trying to push each other out of the way so they can get there first. Hermione grabs Crookshanks around the middle and heaves him away while Ron throws himself on his stomach and, after a few tries, pulls Scabbers out by his tail.



“Look at him!” Ron says furiously, dangling Scabbers in front of Hermione. “He’s skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!”



“Crookshanks doesn’t understand it’s wrong!” Hermione defends, but her voice shakes slightly. “All cats chase rats, Ron!”



“There’s something funny about that animal!” Ron yells, trying to shove Scabbers into his pocket. “It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!”



“Oh, what rubbish,” Hermione says exasperatedly. “Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d’you think-“



“That cat’s got it in for Scabbers!” Ron declares loudly.



I snicker at how ridiculous he sounds. I mean, come on. Crookshanks is a cat. Scabbers is a rat. Cats chase rats. The end. He should know this!



“And Scabbers was here first, and he’s ill!” Ron finishes. He marches through the common room and up the stairs to the boys’ dorms.



“Boys,” I groan.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



The weekend comes way too fast.



So, you know how some people say ‘time flies when you’re having fun?’



Well, time also flies when you aren’t looking forward to something happening.



On Halloween morning-and MY BIRTHDAY!-I wake up bright and early.



Actually, no, that’s a lie. I wake up when Angelina rolls me out of bed and onto the floor, because I don’t want to get up, since I have to go on a date with Fred.



“I DON’T WANNA THOUGH!”



“TOO BAD! NOW GET UP!”



A half hour later, Angelina and Alicia are dragging me down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Our usual group is already down there, waiting for us.



“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAPH!” Natalie shrieks, throwing a handful of candy in the air, and it showers over us.



I perk up immediately. I almost forgot!



“OH EM GEE!” I scream. “I’M FIFTEEN TODAY!”



So then Natalie and I hold hands and skip around in a circle from excitement.



Because that’s what mature fourteen-and-fifteen-year-old girls do.



They all give me presents-just kidding, none of them do, they still have to buy them for me-and then we eat a quick breakfast before we head down to Hogsmeade.



When we get there, there’s already a large crowd.



“Alright!” Fred exclaims. “Well, Saph and I will see y’all later!”



“Wait, where’re you going?” Oliver asks suspiciously, looking at where Fred had grabbed my hand.



“We have a date,” Fred answers triumphantly.



Natalie, Cedric, and Oliver’s eyes widen.



“WHAT?”



Oops. I think I forgot to tell them.



Oh well. They know now.



“So bye!” Fred says quickly, dragging me away.



When we’re out of ear shot, I finally talk.



“Why didn’t you tell them that you’re only using me to make another girl jealous?” I ask curiously.



“Um,” he mutters. “Well, I didn’t want them to spread it around or anything…”



“Right.” I say. “Okay, so where are we going?”



He smiles evilly.



I try to run away.



And so it begins.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



Our date is about as strange as a date can get.



We get high on sugar, piss off the Hufflepuffs, set a flock of owls from the post office free, stuffed our pockets full of Zonko’s merchandise, and pretended that we saw Sirius Black exit Hogsmeade, which caused a major panic and an hour lockdown where all the students were locked into the shops while the Ministry of Magic searched for the nonexistent Sirius.



“FREDDIE!” I yell into his ear as we run back from the Shrieking Shack. Don’t ask me why we’re running, I have no clue.



“WHAT, SAPH?” he shouts back.



“WE SHOULD GO GET SOME BUTTERBEER!”



“OKAY!”



“I WANT SOME CANDY!”



“YOU’VE HAD TOO MUCH CANDY!”



“NOBODY CAN EVER HAVE TOO MUCH CANDY!”



“WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?”



“I THINK CAPS LOCK IS STUCK ON OUR BRAINS!”



So then we stop shouting.



At the Three Broomsticks, I think we annoy Madam Rosmerta.



A lot.



“I said we wanted fifteen butterbeers, not fifty!” I say exasperatedly.



Madam Rosmerta looks at me strangely. “You said two!”



“No, I said thirty-seven!”



“What?”



“We wanted two!”



“This is two!”



“No, it’s one! You’re just seeing double!”



“But-“



“BRING ME SOME APPLE JUICE!”



And that, my fellow Gryffinwhores, is how to get kicked out of the Three Broomsticks.



“Sapphire,” Fred whispers suddenly when we’re sitting on a bench outside of the Three Broomsticks a few minutes later. “Quick, I see her coming…”



“The girl you’re trying to make jealous?”



“Yes!” he exclaims, looking over my shoulder anxiously. “Don’t turn around, it would be too suspicious-“



“Then what-“ but I’m cut off.



Want to know why I got cut off?



Because of Fred.



Want to know what that giant idiot of a British pineapple git did?



He kissed me.



On the lips.



And wrapped his arms around me so I couldn’t get away.



Fuck you, Fred Weasley.

 

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