mrsharrypotter1 (mrsharrypotter1) wrote in mrshp12fanfics,

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Chapter Four...

Ladies and Gents...I'm on a posting that I've figured out this whole LJ should only take me 30 minutes to post each chapter. :D 

Mum wrote.
Ginerva Molly Weasley! Your brothers just sent me some disturbing letters. First off, you cut your hair? What happened to the ‘I’ll never cut this hair, it’s amazing’ phase? I loved your hair! Who’s the boy? Secondly, what’s this I hear about a new wardrobe? I will not, I repeat, WILL NOT have you turning into a prostitute. I will send you to a nunnery before that happens. Get rid of those clothes, especially because your Aunt Winifred is coming for Christmas. Now I know you don’t like your cousins, but this year I want to show my sister that we are better than her, and if she sees you in those, she’ll never let me live it down.
Have fun at school, and bring home some good grades so I can rub it in her face.

Ron will die.
Aunt Winifred is my mother’s sister. Her kids, Janelle and Clarissa, go to Hogwarts too, except Janelle is a fourth year and Clarissa is a seventh year. Their brothers, Marvin, Kingston and Leo, graduated a while ago. They are all stuck up.
Winifred married her husband for his money, and after he died, she became a very rich woman. She has never ceased to grasp the opportunity to rub it in mum’s face. Usually, they only come for a week during the summer hols, but now they were coming for Christmas? That means Harry and Hermione have to meet them.
My life is over.
Aunt Whiny (as we all unlovingly refer to her as) somehow got it in her head that I am going to be a prostitute. Just because I don’t wear shapeless, floor length bags like her daughters do, does not mean I will turn into a prostitute.
Fred and George better have something planned, because I refuse to take any crap from her.
Love, the girl who will not become a prostitute, regardless of what my brothers and aunt believe,

History of Magic 10:11 am
I wish I had a pillow.
I forgot mine, so I’ve resorted to writing.
I’ve been thinking of ways to snatch Harry. Here’s what I’ve come up with:
1.) Just tell him. He respects people who are up front with him, and I think he likes assertive girls.
2.) Slip him a note. Less indirect and I wouldn’t have to face him.
3.) Leave this out. I’ve noticed he’s been watching me when I’m writing, and once he even asked about what this was, so it would be a two for one. Telling him and settling his curiosity.
4.) Just randomly kiss him...
5.) Kidnap him and hold him hostage until he confesses his undying love for me. That’s a little over the top, but I’M RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS!
Anyway, I almost lost it. Rule #1 Don’t lose it around Harry because then he’d think I’m crazy. And crazy is bad. Very bad.
Rule #2 Kill Ron. He deserves to die. Along with the rest of my overbearing siblings. Why couldn’t I be an only child?
Rule #3 Bring Ron back to life. It’s not Hermione’s fault he’s a prat. I shudder at the thought of how someone so smart could even think about snogging someone like him. -shudder-
Anyway, class is over, so I must end.
Love, the girl who should write a book called ‘Why Older Brothers and Love Lives Don’t Mix’,

Later in the Common Room
Right now, I’m indulging in one of my favorite pastimes, Harry-watching.
I love the way he sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating and the way his eyes dance when he gets the right answer. God, it should be illegal to be that sexy all the time.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking. What’s the worst he could do if I told him I liked him? Crush my dreams, embarrass me, nothing my brothers haven’t done before, right?
Love, the girl who’s finally going to suck it up and confront him,

I’ve been crying for almost an hour. My face has gone all red and blotchy. I’ve been bothered by Hermione for the last half an hour about what’s wrong. I am not a happy camper.
Okay, I guess I have to tell someone.
Draco Malfoy cornered me in the hallway. He pushed me against a wall and said "Still mooning over Potter?"
Me: No, get off.
Him: Good, because I just saw Potty go into an empty broom closet with that Hufflepuff, Bones. Should’ve jumped him sooner, Cherry.
Me, flaming that he made up a nickname for me: What are you talking about?
Him, smirking: Potty and Bones are doing the dirty in a closet. You really didn’t think you had a shot with him, did you? I mean you’re nothing but a blood traitor! All of you Weasley’s are the same.
I kneed him south of the border and he went down like the pile of shit he is.
Me: Leave me alone you pureblood son of a b-"
And just before I finished that lovely insult, Susan Bones and Harry came out of the closet down the hall.
I did the only thing I could.
I ran.
Love, the brokenhearted girl that only you, the inanimate object, seem to love,

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