AMOR FATI . . . fred weasley

VII. LOVELY RITA !

12:03PM 16/04/1995

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

SOMETIMES, ALL JOEY WANTS is some peace and quiet!

    She saunters into the Gryffindor common room just as the clock hands are gracing noon, still in her snowman pyjama bottoms, but with a Weasley jumper thrown on as an afterthought. She's always thought, if it suits the wearer, then fuck the starer, but she's never been blessed with the self-confidence to rock up to breakfast in her pyjamas like the twins do.

    Or maybe it's lunch. A combination of the two? Leakfast. (Yeah, Joey's not entirely sure that'll catch on!)

    In one hand she carries a stack of toast that she's just lovingly stolen from the kitchen; in the other, she's devoutly clutching her copy of Advanced Potion Making - you know, for some light reading! The twins are nowhere to be seen, so she just assumes they've probably been up to no good since the crack of dawn. Or blackmailing Ludo Bagman.

    To be honest, she can't quite decide which is worse.

    The common room's eerily quiet, all the kids probably soaking up the feeble April sunshine, but Joey's too tired to even begin to plan her day. After waking up, she needs approximately three hours to adjust to the injustice that she was dragged from sleep at an ungodly hour. By that point, bedtime has rolled around again.

    Oh, it truly is blissful to live the life of a stereotypical Hufflepuff!

    She doesn't have to wait too long for her friends to treat her with their presence. The portrait hole slams open violently, as though somebody's tearing it off its hinges, and Joey glances upward from how to make Everlasting Elixirs to see Lola.

    With her younger sister Linden in tow.

    Joey's always found it a little ironic that the linden tree symbolises good news in witchcraft, because when it comes to Linden, she is anything but. The Hufflepuff hates to stereotype people based on houses (hence her friendship with Pyotr, who she adores unconditionally) but it's hard to deny that Slytherin's pureblood princess is ambitious, sly and cunning as they come.

    It's so abnormal to see Linden in Gryffindor Tower, of all places, that Joey's book slides unnoticed from her lap and she watches them with morbid fascination.

    'Linden, I implore you,' Lola is begging. Her usually formidable demeanour is shattered; she's basically unhinged, a stark contrast to Linden who looks like she's never been so bored in her life. 'Remember where we are. This is not one of Daddy's precious little pureblood parties, where we were only allowed to speak when Bellatrix permitted! Get in line, darling, or fall behind!'

    'If anybody should be remembering things it is you, Dolores,' hisses Linden. Lola's green hair flickers red. 'Embarrassing us all with your little freakshow? Disgracing our name with the company of the... the mudbloods and the blood traitors?'

    'How dare you,' Lola spits, shaking her head. 'Where is the child who used to come running to me, her cheeks bedazzled with tears, at even a hint of prejudice?'

    'That girl is dead,' Linden says indifferently. 'Lola... for all our sakes, you must end your friendship with the Attlee girl.'

    Well, to say Joey wasn't expecting that would be an understatement!