The Lies We Tell Ourselves (A Harry Potter Crossover)

In Which I Harass a Pirate

Slayer made me post this (against my wishes, I might add) so I'll try to make juggling two stories at once work...Maybe.

Things you need to know:

-the Flock are ages 16, 14, 12, and 10, respectively.

-everything and anything I write that is MR completely disregards things after book three. They might be older, but 4-8 never happened. Shush.

-this takes place in Harry's 6th year. Events will be skewed since the Flock changes the course of things.

-The ships will be as follows: Fang/Max, eventual Ron/Hermione, Iggy/Mystery Canon HP Girl, and Nudge/Mystery Canon HP Guy. Ooh, mysterious, eh?

This is one of my only first-person narratives, so hold onto your hats ladies and gents.

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Things just don't go as planned for us and I don't know whyit's so hard for the universe to just give us a break for a day or so. I mean, it's not as if we mess up its mojo too much. It's almost as if events around us warp just enough to fuck us over once or twice and it's been happening since we've been born.

But I guess you get what's coming to you when you're just another mutant with wings.

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I don't like pears. I'm not sure where this innate hatred of all things pear-like, pear-shaped, and pear-flavoured comes from. All I do know is that I really don't like to get within a 100 metre radius of pears. They're...icky. But what does Nudge show up with? A bag of pears.

"Hey Max!" She shouted as she ran down the aisle of the supermarket to catch up with Fang and me. His tanned fingers were gripping the shopping cart that was currently being filled with various brands of cereal. We were on wheat duty, Nudge on produce, and Iggy on dairy. (The Gasman and Angel were back at my mom's house playing scrabble with Ella, who began to lose hopelessly as soon as Angel whipped out her evil eye and peeked into her mind for bits of info.) Nudge held up a sack of red netting that contained around eleven pears. "Can we get these?"

I took one look at the stuff and shook my head and replied flatly. "No."

"Pleeeease…?" Nudge drew the word out. "Everyone else likes them but you!"

"I don't like pears," Fang said simply, adding his two bits to the convo.

"See?" I put my hands on my hips. "Majority rules. Now put the pears back, Nudge."

"That's not even a majority," Nudge threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, muttering to herself as she trudged back to the fruit section. "When I grow up I'm going to eat all the pears I want to and not even Max can stop me because pears are so good and she just doesn't get itwith all of the…."

I watched her go with narrowed eyes and then turned to Fang and scowled because I just remembered him telling me on one occasion that pears were his favorite fruit. I think he was a bit out of it at the time, but that doesn't change his stance towards the little green monsters. "You like pears."

"So?" Fang asked, shrugging as if the matter wasn't of any importance at all.

"Why did you lie?" I still wasn't catching onto the social cues at this point. Poor me.

"Because you don't like pears."

It sort of caught me by surprise. I mean, I knew that he had lied for me before, but this was just a squabble over the devil incarnate stuffed into a fruit body of all things. It wasn't a big deal, not nearly as big as I made it seem, but it was all of the little things that added up to the big picture. We'd been dating for a few months now, but anything that even held a faint whiff of relationshippy-ness sort of sent me careening into the next aisle to join the fish in their eternal mob boss slumber. Unfortunately, I was so distracted dissecting every little word that came out of the boy's beautiful mouth that my forehead collided with a sign for a half off coupon on Lucky Charms and I was down on my ass in the middle of the supermarket's cheap tiling.