When Jolie Carter gets kicked out from Beauxbatons despite stellar grades and perfect (but still reluctant) attendance, she's not in the greatest mood to move schools. As a witty seventeen-year-old with zits, razor-sharp humor and "serious issues"...
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NEW CHARACTER: HARLEY BUCKTHORN
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It's been a couple of days since Fred and I argued, and I haven't seen him around, but even if I had, I wouldn't be able to talk to him.
For two reasons: one, because I'm still ticked off at the kind of bullshit he said after I was just trying to help him, to care about him, and two, because I have no clue what I'd say.
I've never been one for drama. Everyone always says that girls are more "drama" than boys; that if you're friends with guys, you're bound to be free from the antics. But honestly, boys are more drama to me than girls. Hell, I went to an all-girls school my whole life up till now, and I don't think we ever truly fought with one another... unless it was over the last spinach puff during the Holidays.
So this thing with Fred? It has only further proved my own belief.
I've desperately hoped that Angelina nor Draco will bring him up, since I haven't hung out or talked with him recently, and so far, I think I'm in the clear.
Draco's been far too busy panicking about the holidays, which aren't even for another month.
"Draco," I tell him as he, Angelina, and I are eating lunch at the Slytherin table on a slow Saturday, "Christmas break isn't for, like, another 5 weeks."
"I know, but I don't think you understand that I overthink these things," he says, hastily poking his fork into a bowl of steaming macaroni. "Harry wants me to visit him at his place, but I am far too unstable for that."
"Unstable?" Angelina scoffs.
He looks at her, wide-eyed and stressed.
"Go on," she nods slowly.
He huffs, shoving a bite of pasta into his mouth. "And he just, like, casually mentioned it. Like it wasn't a big deal."
"It's not a big deal," I say.
"But it is," he says. "What if his parents don't like me? What if I choke on a chicken breast at dinner and their first impression of me is Mr. Potter giving me the Heimlich? What if he asks to meet my parents?"
"Then you'll have plenty of stories to tell your grandkids," Angelina says, unfazed.
Draco groans and lifts forkfuls of macaroni only to drop them into the bowl again, doing this repeatedly as I chuckle at his very-accurate overthinking.
"His parents will like you," I assure him. "Who wouldn't? You're unbelievably charming to all."
He gives me a look. I grin.
"But really," I say. "They will. Hey, lots of people around here would kill to bring someone home for the Holidays. You scored big in the romance category."
