Chemistry - Ron Weasley fan fic

38 𝐴 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑁𝑜 𝑂𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟

A/N- 7K reads!! yall are amazing! -Heidi <3

"Do you understand what I'm saying little girl?"

2.2K words

previously- "So I'm going to ask you a very simple question Margo." Stanley said with a tone of menace, he finally diverted his eyes from the wall, looking down at Margo, nothing but coldness laced within his eyes. "Are you, or are you not, friends with Ron Weasley."

the word, Fuck, was the only thing running through Margo's mind in that moment. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck. Stanley stared down at her, mood unchanging. She had to say something, anything, or else the silence would speak louder than any of her words could. 

"Thats not true." she mumbled, caution evident in her body language, fidgety hands, slumped shoulders, violent blinking. She was a sight for sore eyes.

"lie.' Stanley announced, crossing his arms over the other, legs spreading. Margo flinched, taking a step back. 

"Im not lying." She lied again, voice slightly louder, Stanley snarled.

"You are lying to me, I will not tolerate liars in this household." 

"I don't know what to tell you Father." she said, "Why do you even think this?" the room was cold, as if someone had transported them to the North Pole. But this wasn't the North Pole, this was real life, reality; and the reality was that Margo was screwed. Completely fucking screwed. 

"Blaise told me if you must know. He sent me a letter just last night, explaining the... close proximity of you and that red-headed freak." It seemed as if Margo's Father wanted to puke at the thought. Hitting his chest with his rounded knuckle. 

Something took over Margo when she heard the word 'Freak' she didn't know what exactly, but she felt fury, pure and utter fury. So, ignoring the fact that Blaise had gone and snitched her out, Margo unloaded gun fire.

 "Hes not a freak." she announced under her breath, the words falling out into the open with the air that accompanied it. Stanley looked taken aback, staring down at the adolescent teen as if she were a monster. 

"What did you just say?" He questioned loudly, words reverberating around the room. Margo looked him up and down, that same anger bubbling in her throat.

"I said he's not a freak." she spat. "The only freak here is you." 

Margo regretted the words the second she said them. Stanley snarled, a wicked smile plastering across his face. The room temperature took a 180', Margo sweating under the many layers she was sporting. 

"Say. That. Again." Said Stanley, the words falling out of grinding teeth, almost unintelligible from the hardcore lock he had given his jaw. Margo gulped, falling silent, Stanley clenched his knuckles together, neck twitching, the bulging vein on it seeming as if it was going to burst. 

Margo looked around In this time, taking in all of the hideous black leather sofa's, which must have cost much more than an arm and a leg. Her eyes fell on the lamp that sat on the coffee table delicately, that horrendous lamp. It was silver, with real gold encrusted diamonds, some may think this sounds pretty. But Margo could reassure, if you saw that lamp in person, you would also politely hold down your vomit.

Along will the bear skin rug that sat under it. The bears mouth was open, looking like it was in shock. Somehow, that rug had always found a way to send chills down Margo's spine.

Thats when Margo realised, she hated the lamp, she hated the rug, she hated the sofa, she hated the wall plastering, she hated every god damn thing that was in that house -excluding Apple of course-. she hated Spike, Felix, but most importantly, Margo hated her Father.