Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Basil?" Lupin had been knocking on the door of her room for about 10 minutes before he finally just called her name. She groaned as the usual one sun beam shone through her window, hitting her eyes. "In a minute," she called groggily, walking towards the door as she rubbed her eyes, throwing it open.
"You just woke up," he stated blankly, her eyebrows rising. "Yup." She flopped back onto her bed, him sitting at the chair by the desk in her room. "What's today's lecture on," she sassed, picking at the stitching of her tank top. "You're eating lunch with everyone."
"You're not in charge of me," she scoffed. "And who is? Your dad?" She stiffened at that, something he clearly noticed. He sighed, regret evident on his face. "Basil," he softened, "I want the best for you. I knew your dad and Briony back in my school days, and they clearly don't get you. I think I do." You do? She thought. Yeah, bullshit.
"Fine," she muttered, looking up. He instantly shot up, jaw wide. "Okay, great." She nodded, something he copied. "Great, you have 20 minutes."
"Great," she said, giving him a small smile. He left the her room as she slammed the door behind him, heading over to her closet.
Maybe he wasn't so bad ...
ೃ࿐
So maybe Lupin wasn't half bad, but this lunch she agreed to? Absolute hell. Ginny had insisted she wore this dress her mother had sent her at the beginning of the summer, which had red flowers embroidered all over. She pulled the skirt of it down, shifting awkwardly in her seat next to Ginny.
"It's nice to have you out here with us, Basil," Briony noted, the fakest smile she'd ever seen plastered on the face of her stepmother. "Thank you," she fake-smiled in return, her cheeks hurting. Ginny rubbed her shoulder from besides her, her eyes filled with pity. The smell of Mundungus' pipe, which he had just placed aside, overwhelmed her nose, a scent of smelly socks and ash lingering.
"So, Basil, how do you like Hogwarts?" She looked over to Molly Weasley, who had just sat down, covered in sweat. "It's okay," she said, shrugging. She looked down at the mountains of food in front of her, unsure of what to eat. "You're a Slytherin, right?" Ginny's other brother ( Rupert? Roland? Right! Ronald — Ron ) sneered from across from her. Her forrest green eyes widened as Lupin clearly tensed up, sitting up straighter.
"Ron," Molly scolded, wagging her finger. "Now, that is not nice at all." Basil's eyes fluttered over to Briony who looked — amused? Fucking jerk, she thought, clearing her throat. "It's fine, Molly, really." The rest of the table stayed quiet as she felt their eyes on her. She looked down, scooping some potatoes from the bowl in front of her onto her plate. "He's a twat, I'm sorry," Ginny whispered to her, leaning so her face was towards her ear.
"Basil, you draw, right?" Lupin asked, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Oh yeah, she's a bloody fantastic artist, too," Tonks praised, making her cheeks turn bright strawberry red. "It's nothing," she mumbled, a small smile etched on her face.
She could feel her dad's eyes on her, burning into her head. He'd been quite all evening, his sullen eyes piercing through the air. If looks could kill, Basil Lavinge would be dead on the floor, and her dad's hands would be blood soaked, the thick red liquid staining his hands, and she had no doubt that Briony would help him bury her body.
She pushed her hair behind her ears, shifting awkwardly in her seat. After this horrid dinner was finished, she for sure was going to start planning her revenge on Remus Lupin, but then again, it didn't suck to have lots of dinner choices, and guaranteed warm food and —
Ron Weasley sucks, though, and she knew that if she came to dinner again ( or breakfast or lunch, do that matter ), he'd probably rip her head off, and she really didn't fancy losing that. He was kind of an ass, but then again, most people in this stupid building are, and avoiding him wouldn't be so hard, right?
If only she had laser eyes, she'd destroy everything; she'd break it all until there was nothing left but dust. Then maybe people would take her seriously, and isn't it better to be feared than loved? Maybe that was just the Slytherin in her, or the scorpio in her, or maybe both, but she'd much rather be a tornado than a rainbow.
The rest of the dinner was wildly uneventful; everyone seemingly wanted to avoid a disaster ( which was definitely the best choice ). As soon as she was excused, she stomped up to her room, throwing the covers over her head.
Basil wanted to throw something ... anything. She could feel rage course through her veins as she felt her face heat up, turning a scarlet red. Never again would she listen to Remus Lupin and his absolute bullshit that's for sure.
Only Alanis Morissette could save her now.
author's note: ron would definitely loathe the shit out of basil don't you dare telling me they'd be friends right away, and AGAIN i hate the ending but whateves 🙄
