the baby project — act one
" almost like a pregnancy "
﹙ 𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦. ﹚

     "IS THERE A KIND OF SPELL TO CHANGE THE PITCH OF SOMEONE'S VOICE?"

     Because Clayton Schafer would like to know.

     "Speech therapy might work," Jazz muttered under her breath, her chin loosely resting on her hands, her elbows sliding further and further down the desk at the back of the Potions classroom. 

     Even Addie can agree ─ double Potions, in the middle of the day is not something to enjoy. No matter how much you love school. Two hours of Professor Severus Snape's monotonal voice could probably kill a frail old lady if someone were to try.

     Addie, Laurie, Clayton and Jazz were all very grateful to have managed to grab back-row seats at the very start of the year. But then again, they deserved it. Snape always pre-sets a seating plan, besides for his seventh years. All four of them had planned this when they found out Hufflepuff and Slytherin were going to be sharing most of their lessons this year. They became even more determined to secure the back row when they saw four lots of double Potions on their timetable. They had all arrived before anyone else, on the first lesson back, and, quite embarrassingly, scrambled into the room, and threw themselves into the seats that lined the back row table. And now, those seats are very much worth it. Now, they can talk bad about Snape, with an eighty percent chance, he won't hear them. There's also the advantage of being able to doodle without him realising. Addie is currently drawing a variety of toadstools, stars and 3D shapes across some scrap parchment.

     All four of them could hear the earthy groans erupting from the half-asleep students that were dotted around the classroom. An uncomfortable void hung in the stuffy air, Snape's drone and the occasional drip from the nearby tap filling the silence. What Addie would kill for him to dismiss them. The clock seemed to have stopped ticking above the professor's head, time standing still, marking that this marathon of a lesson was never going to end like they all wanted it to.

     "I want a five-page essay on the Girding Potion by next week," Professor Snape said, his voice just as colourless and as dreary as the room. He peered out amongst his students, catching a few of them with their heads dropping onto the table. "And don't complain," he snapped, and everyone knew who it was aimed at. Especially if they had their head in their hands or their eyes fastened shut.

     Addie contained her complaint. She didn't want to get called out by Professor Snape, but she also knew she just had to get on with it. Two people who hadn't quite matured to Addie's level are Clayton Schafer and Jasmine Sanderson. 

     Since Snape's announcement of their homework, the two of them had slowly rotated their heads in her direction, sporting hopeful smiles, with clear (at least to Addie) undertones of please can you do said essays for us? and Addie was not best pleased.

     Laurie, who was focusing her head forward trying to concentrate on Snape's final words before the end of the lesson, chuckled to herself, eventually understanding why the two students next to her had their hands grasped in a plea, each wearing childish pouts.

     Addie gritted her teeth, dropping her quill mid-toadstool, before speaking in a hushed voice, "No," she said and despite her whisper, her voice was like a harsh shout. And had she had the freedom, she would be expressing her frustration towards her friends, with the volume of her voice. "No, I will not do your essays for you."

     Jazz deepened her pout, "Aw," she said quietly, "but we can't be bothered."

     Clayton hummed in agreement, "And you're smart and motivated."

     Addie's jaw clenched so much, it almost ached. In desperation, she turned to her sister for support, "Laurie, as my sister, please defend me and tell them it's lazy of them to ask me to do their homework for them."

     Laurie kept her eyes focused on the professor while her friends whispered behind his back. She grimaced with wide eyes, and Addie was beginning to think that fixating her eye-line on the front of the class was just a way to avoid eye contact with herself. "That would be immoral of me considering I was going to ask for you to write mine for me but they beat me to it."

     Addie's mouth fell agape. "Unbelievable," she said. "I should start charging you. I could do with the money," she waggled a finger at them, just as Professor Snape dismissed the class. The usual bustling noise of bags on tables and the scraping of stalls against the floor and post-lesson chatter filled the air.

     Jazz already had her stuff packed away. She did it ten minutes ago when her auto-pilot had decided the lesson was over before it actually was. She swung her bag over her shoulder, her chair already tucked back under her spot of the table. "What a great idea!" she exclaimed with mock glee. "With Hogsmeade weekends approaching you'll be able to buy lots more parchment and ink for all of our upcoming essays! It's the perfect plan!"

     Clayton and Laurie followed the Slytherin out of the classroom door, chuckling to themselves, Addie trailing along behind, not very happy to be the last one out.

     "I'm not quite sure how we became friends, Jasmine, are you?" Addie said not appreciating the Slytherin's joke. As she exited the room she became rather glad to have finally escaped the stuffy classroom and felt very grateful to breathe fresh air for the first time when the four of them emerged from beyond the dungeons out into the main castle.

     Jazz nudged up to Addie's side, where she looped her arm through the Hufflepuff's, her mischievous grin, becoming more of a smirk. "Completely oblivious."

     "Guess who scored higher than her brother in the History of Magic exam!" Quinn practically screamed as soon as she saw her three friends stroll into the Great Hall for lunch. Gia was sat beside the Ravenclaw girl, who was now on her feet, ushering Addie, Laurie, Clayton and Jazz to hurry and listen to what she had to say.

     All five of Quinn's friends had had quite enough of Quinn's brags, which mostly turned into complaints, regarding her twin brother, Lance. Addie sometimes felt sorry for Quinn because of all the bragging. She felt sorry for the fact that Quinn always tried to prove herself to her parents, she sometimes tried too hard. Always trying to better her brother in everything. Addie's sometimes saddened by the fact that Quinn even has to do that. Even then, it doesn't take away from the fact that Addie, and her four friends including her sister, don't appreciate that every other word that comes out of Quinn Erwin's mouth is trash-talk about her brother. Who is actually very sweet, Addie thinks you should know.

     Still linked to Jazz, Addie opted to play around with her Ravenclaw friend, once they were all seated at benches in the busy Great Hall. Addie sat opposite Quinn and Gia and pretended to act confused, "Clayton?" she guessed, her brows knitting together.

     Jazz caught on, and decided to play along with Addie's joke, "I was actually going to guess Laurie."

     Clayton clicked his fingers, before making a little gun with them, pointing them in Jazz's direction. He hummed, "Oh yes, Reid was complaining about Professor Binns just the other day."

     Silence fell amongst the group as they waited for Quinn to respond to their little joke. It was known across their year that the Erwin twins are incredibly competitive. And it was so gleamingly obvious (which Addie guesses it was supposed to be) that when Quinn screamed "guess who!" to the entire hall of students, she was talking about herself.

     Finally, Quinn huffed in defeat, drawing her eyes back onto her plate, where a lonely half-eaten sandwich sat by a dozen plain chips. It appears she and Gia got out of History of Magic a lot earlier than the others got out of Potions. Must be nice. Quinn then eventually spoke: "I hate you all."

     The group came back to life, humour restored, and Addie thinks she even saw a timid smile break out onto Quinn's face. "Aw, we're sorry, Quinny," Addie said. "We're also very proud of you and all of your amazing academic achievements." It sounded sarcastic, but Addie assures it was not.

     Serving herself a large dollop of mashed potatoes, Jazz smirked in Quinn's direction, desperate to piss her friend off once more. "But your brother's still hot." That's the way to do it. Addie will forever be amused at how Jazz can always bring their conversations back onto how attractive she finds Lance Erwin, Quinn's delectable brother.

     Quinn pulled a face as if to say watch it, pausing to stare Jazz down before she took another bite out of her sandwich.

     Jazz made it clear she had received the message but then she also made it clear that the message hadn't, and probably never will, be processed nor cared for. "Sorry," Jazz winced. "Time to face facts. The truth hurts, Quinny."

     Quinn was very grateful for Clayton when he swiftly swerved the conversation down a different path that didn't have anything to do with Lance. 

     "Anyway!" he grinned from ear to ear, probably with hopes to ease the tension, as he filled his plate with cocktail sausages. 

     But then, Quinn's opinions on Clayton in this moment quickly changed and she wasn't particularly pleased with the material that he used to change said conversation.

     "Quinn," Clayton said, redirecting his focus onto the Ravenclaw nibbling at a single crisp. He sweetened his smile for persuasive purposes. "How do you feel about writing our Potions essays?"

     Addie's forehead creased. "I thought you were going to ask me?" She had no problem not doing their essays but she was still confused at A) their inability to do it themselves, hence asking a second person after the first one failed and B) why they thought Quinn was going to agree.

     Laurie shrugged, mid-chew, "To be fair, we already did."

     "And you said you were going to charge us," Jazz chimed in.

     Clayton nodded his head in agreement. "And I can bet your prices will be extortionate," he said, the three of them speaking in as a mini chorus, almost like it was choreographed.

     Jazz grinned sickly-sweetly, "So we're asking Quinn," she finished the three-man band's verse, and all three of their heads turned to the girl in blue. Addie and Gia shrugged disinterested, happy to no longer be involved.

     Quinn's eyes trailed from Laurie to Jazz to Clayton and continued like that for a few more seconds. "Well considering how mean you all were to me just, I'm going to say no," she finally concluded, returning to her main priority: eating her lunch so she can get to Charms on time. She considered their conversation, over.

     Jazz tutted, "And here I was thinking you were going to be more lenient."

     Quinn looked offended, "Is that the nice way of you calling me a pushover?" she asked incredulously. It was as if Jazz's distasteful comments were a rarity. Addie wonders how they haven't decapitated each other yet. And it's been six years. Going strong.

     Jazz picked apart a cookie, dropping small pieces into her mouth. She had finished her mashed potatoes already. "Exactly right, yes," she said, continuously nodding her head.

     Addie placed her knife and fork carefully on the edge of her plate, taking one last sip of her orange juice, before speaking her mind. "I have a suggestion," she said, and they all hummed, their mouths zipped shut from their individual lunches. "How about you do your own essays, and stop bothering Quinn and me?" Addie smiled sarcastically, as all of their faces contorted with befuddlement. A baffling thought, huh?

     Jazz swallowed her food first, "Nah."

     "I'm good," Laurie nodded.

     Clayton's neck retreated backwards, his face seemingly puzzled. "Sounds tiresome."

     Quinn shook her head in mild disbelief, as Gia let out a deep exhale. She turned to Addie, "Time to give up now, Addie," Gia said. "They're just lazy buggers and always will be."

༺༻

     THE STUDENTS OF HOGWARTS ONLY GET AN HOUR FOR THEIR LUNCH BREAK, and Addie needed to check a book out of the library before Diviniation fourth period. As a result of the restricting time frame, there was a sense of urgency in her strides, as she headed out of the Great Hall in the direction of the library, leaving her friends and their lunches, chatting about Rita Skeeter and the upcoming Quidditch match, Jazz very confident Slytherin can beat Gryffindor. Her exact words were: "we're going to wipe their arses". Addie cannot make a judgement ─ she's not very Quidditch crazed.

     With her tall cup of orange juice leftover from lunch in her hand (Hogwarts had introduced takeaway kitchenware now, including boxes and cups. The prospects are very exciting in Addie's opinion), Addie hurried down corridors, her shoes echoing out through to the courtyard. She glanced down at her watch, and the ticks only tormented her into walking faster, until she couldn't even take her eyes off of the hands edging closer and closer to the hour with each hasty step. She was almost running when she turned the corner and─

     A body collided with hers, and the drink in her hand burst from within its styrofoam carton until almost all of its contents were on the floor.

     Addie heard and watched as the orange, fruity beverage splattered onto the floor, dripping off of the robes of the student she had apparently attacked. She could barely bring herself to meet their gaze, her expression gaping at the mess she had made on the floor. Her cup felt airy in her grip. "Shit!" she whisper yelled, not wanting to attract anyone else to the mess, in a corridor that was practically empty anyway. "I am so sor-"

     She stopped herself when she had gained enough courage to look her victim in the eyes.

     "Shit."

     George Weasley looked more amused than irritated that he had just been doused in orange juice. It was probably because of Addie's distraught expression that had appeared upon discovering that it was his uniform that was now sticky and fruity.

     His arms were held out away from his juice-covered body, so they didn't stick to his robes. His teeth peeked through his smile. "A double shit. Someone's pleased to see me, Sweeney," George said.

     Addie kept switching her focus from his face to his clothes. His reaction wasn't making her feel better funny enough. Why couldn't he have just reacted like a normal person? "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ." she motioned silently to the orange-stained shirt he was wearing.

     George cocked an eyebrow, and finished her sentence for her, "Spill the entire contents of your bright orange drink on my nice clean uniform?"

     Addie winced, maintaining somewhat of a hopeful smile. "Well, hey, at least it matches your hair!"

     George forced out overexaggerated laughter, smiling through his teeth. "Lucky me!"

     Addie watched his face drop in a second, even the glint in his eyes dimming. This was the normal pissed-off reaction she had anticipated. But even then, after all of the shit this kid had put her through even just starting this year, Addie thought he deserved it. It was simply her turn to aggravate him as if the tables had turned. She didn't mean to spill her drink all over his apparently clean-on uniform even though she spied a chocolate stain on his collar, but all in all, she was actually just giving him a taste of his own medicine.

     After studying his unimpressed expression for a few seconds, Addie sighed. She had given in. The Weasley twins had always been two people who wanted everyone to like them (the Slytherin house being the exception to this feat), but actually, Addie wasn't that much different. She couldn't help but feel guilty. "What can I do?"

     "You can start with finding me some stain remover."

     She sucked in a sharp breath, electing to be more careful with whatever she said from this point onwards. Peeved George Weasley is just as unpleasant as childish George Weasley. "I do know a spell to clean this up but-"

     George's neck jutted out, and he might as well have started tapping his foot on the ground to express his impatience. "Well go on then."

     Addie clenched the muscles in her jaw. "If you had just let me finish," she said. "But I don't know it by heart."

     George did not look impressed, as his eyes panned back down to his shirt and robes, which were still dripping with orange juice. The liquid had seeped through to his skin, so his shirt was almost glued to his torso; the tangy smell hitting his nose much faster than expected. He looked back up at Addie, his eyes sinking with boredom. "Can we find it in a book somewhere?"

     Trust George Weasley to be pissed off at someone else for not remembering a spell he doesn't know by heart himself.

     Addie tried her best not to look down at the damage that coated his clothes, because otherwise, she'd just grimace again and she hardly thinks George would find that helpful. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I wrote it down."

     Addie's Guide To Life. A wonder of things. Incredibly useful, and Addie's pride and joy. It irked her that she didn't know the charm that cleaned stains off of clothes off by heart because that would mean flicking through her book to find it in front of George Weasley. 

     Teasing would be an understatement.

     George smiled sarcastically, "How wonderful. Where exactly?"

     Addie didn't dare say it. She knew what would come. But cleaning up her mess would put an end to it. And maybe she had pissed George Weasley off enough for him to leave her alone indefinitely. Her shoulders drooped, and she stared at the ceiling briefly before speaking: "In a book in my dorm." She sounded just as monotonous as Professor Snape.

     In a split second, George's agitation dissipated. He gasped dramatically, a smirk expanding across his face, almost ear to ear. "Are you inviting me to your dorm, Sweeney?" he teased. And there it was. No surprise, just disappointment. 

     George tucked his hands underneath his armpits as if the fabric of his shirt wasn't still damp and clammy. "I thought it'd be at least a few months until we made it that far, but I'll take it."

     Addie blinked once and then twice, unruffled by his immaturity. "You're insufferable, you know that?" she said. "I'd prefer if we didn't make everything a sexual innuendo, but I know that you have the mental age of a ten-year-old, so I'll give you a pass this time around. You do have to come to my dorm, yes. But," her hand shot upwards and she pointed her finger at him aggressively, "only because I don't want to lob the book around for the rest of the day."

     The puddle of orange liquid remained on the floor, like a moat surrounding his feet. Most of the contents managed to latch onto his clothes rather than ending up on the tiles. Addie imagined some enchanted mop would clear it up sooner rather than later.

     George resisted the painful urge to wink ─ he didn't think she'd appreciate it very much. "Works for me."

     George was quite happy to follow the girl all the way to the Hufflepuff basement, enthralled by the idea of seeing beneath the pile of barrels that guarded the entrance. He had never been inside the Hufflepuff common room. It was all incredibly exciting.

     Her long hair swayed smoothly behind her until they reached the entrance, where she spun on the spot, bringing him to an abrupt halt. "Stay here then," Addie said, immediately causing George's brows to furrow profusely.

     His jaw became unhinged, and Addie would be lying if his dazed expression wasn't insanely amusing. "What?" he gaped down at the girl in yellow. Although, you could argue that his newly stained uniform made him a boy in yellow too. "You said I was going to your dorm?" George questioned, still very much perplexed, by her hand that was stretched out and stopping him from going any further.

     "Yes, well, I figured, I can just bring the book down here," Addie said, shrugging innocently while being very aware that she was gradually annoying him further. "That way you don't go in the Hufflepuff common room."

     "That wasn't the deal."

     A grin broke out on her face, and it was like the roles were reversed ─ Addie with an artful smirk, and George was a contorted scowl. "Why are you so desperate?" she chuckled.

     George looked far from impressed. "I've never been in."

     She cocked her head to the side a little, "That is how it's supposed to go, George, you are aware, right?"

     He narrowed his eyes, perturbed, as he held up a finger, "I'm aware. But-"

     His last word made Addie roll her eyes, and fold her arms across her chest, "Oh, here we go."

     George ignored her muted groan and continued with his reasoning. "It's my last year and I think it's only fair," he mirrored her pose and crossed his arms too.

     She watched as he mocked her, and she immediately brought her arms to her sides in aggravation. Addie decided to try one last time to see if he'd do what she says. Unlikely, considering this is George Weasley we're talking about, but worth a try: "Just wait here."

     Addie thought George had for the first time in his life, obeyed simple instructions, when she turned on her heels and headed for the barrels. But before she could even lift a finger to tap in the password, George called out to her, "I'll let you see the Gryffindor common room!"

     She sighed, trying her best to gather up any last nerve she had left, just so she didn't slap him across the face. She spun back around, sporting a tired look, "I've seen it."

     Now, this. This sent him off the edge.

     His mouth fell open so wide, flies could get through. His eyes read pure bewilderment, as he gawked at her ─ the boy was truly stumped by this statement. "What?"

     Addie may not be willing to let George Weasley in her house's common room, but it's not like she hasn't been in her friends' house common rooms. Gia has invited her four Hufflepuff friends and one Slytherin friend to the Gryffindor common room on multiple occasions, and no one has ever turned a blind eye to it. Both Addie and Jazz have done the same in reverse. But George. George Weasley is a completely different case. Him she is not so willing to let through. No matter if he and Gia share the same emblem on their robes.

     Addie stifled her laugh. She loved being able to hold something over him. She can get into his house's lounge, but he can't get into her's. "I have friends," Addie stated bluntly. Blunt was all he deserved. "Maybe if you adopted a few more Hufflepuff friends, you'd get the chance to see inside, but seeing as you don't, you're going to wait here," she said, smiling sarcastically.

     George had his hands in his pockets now. He shrugged, "You're my Hufflepuff friend."

     Addie now could not contain her laugh. "Ha!" After a second of taunting him with her laughter, her face fell flat, and she pierced her eyes into his. "Don't push it, Weasley."

     George thought she sounded like his mother, Molly. And he did not like it one bit. Which is why Addie only has herself to blame for his intrusion.

     He observed as she silently tapped the barrels in an odd rhythm until finally, the stone wall slid open, and he could just about catch a glimpse of what waited on the inside. George waited for the perfect moment, where she had stepped no more than a meter inside, for him to slip past the wall before it closed, and push up to her side slyly.

     Addie felt something nudge her from behind, but she couldn't quite identify what it was. That was until the sharp scent of orange fruitiness wafted towards her, and she turned her head to confirm her suspicions. "Oh my good God-"

     George Weasley was in the Hufflepuff common room. And even as she stared at his unmissable red hair and infamous smile, Addie still couldn't quite believe it. Nasty bugger.

     A smirk was planted on his face permanently, as he cut her off mid-curse, "Keep your voice down, you'll draw attention to yourself," he chuckled, making sure he walked behind her, as they stepped out into the open-plan lounge, that was busy with students as it was still their lunch break.

     Addie stopped and turned to him, placing a forceful hand on his chest. She ground her teeth, and her scowl just reinforced the reminder of Molly Weasley, "I thought I said-"

     George sighed wistfully, "I know what you said," he said, "but us Weasley's are very stubborn creatures," George waggled a finger down at her. He didn't seem at all fazed that he was standing in the middle of a hoard of Hufflepuffs, some of whom were certainly questioning his arrival. 

     Addie couldn't be bothered with this anymore. If she hadn't been responsible for spilling her drink all over him, she wouldn't have even taken the trouble to help the boy, had she known he'd cause her this much hassle. She'll have wrinkles by the time she graduates if she constantly runs into George Weasley. But that's just it. She should have known he'd act just like this after six years, specifically, the last few days, so Addie thought, best to just grin and bear it. 

     She rubbed her temple, "I know," she groaned, "I've learnt that the hard way."

     George stood up straighter, smiled proudly, and clasped his hands behind his back. He knew she'd give in eventually.

     Trying her best to ignore the odd looks they were receiving, Addie continued on in the direction of her dorm, throwing out muttered apologies, for both George and so she could come across as polite as she pushed past people when exiting the common room. "This is so against the rules," she said to George in a hushed voice, as they strolled down the corridor, passing the numerous doors of dorm rooms.

     "Rules are meant to be broken, Sweeney," George said. "Haven't I taught you well enough? Besides, I hardly think spilling a drink over another student is in Dumbledore's Good Books either, but alright." She could feel his breath tickle her neck.

     Addie would rather not have her dentist angry with her, so she released the tightness in her jaw, and opted to kill the boy with her looks instead. "That was an accident."

     George shrugged, swaying from side to side, his hands still behind his back as if he was weighing out the options. "I see it more as payback for the whole drugging your friends/bludger incident."

     Addie's smirk wasn't quite so prominent as George's but it did make an appearance. "Ah, so you do believe that doping my friends was a deed worthy of payback do you?" She lifted an eyebrow dubiously.

     "It wasn't the nicest of gestures, I admit."

     "Thank you for saying that."

     "But." There it was. "I refuse to deny it's hilarity, thank you very much."

     Addie's lips parted. She gave him a pointed look, "You belong in jail."

     "I'm not too sure whether there's a cell in Azkaban with the name," George lifted his hand and pretended to write his next sentence in the air, ""Kid who fixed his friends' sweets with not so nice ingredients", do you, Adelaide?"

     She could hardly believe what she was hearing coming out of his mouth. She wondered whether his arse got jealous of all of the shit that came out of his piehole. "They're not your friends."

     "I think I'll ask them that, rather than taking your opinion, Sweeney, what do you think?"

     Addie ran her tongue along her top row of teeth, as she came to a stop outside of the door, George assumed was her own.

     "Stay. Right. Here," she said, so sternly she believed he might actually listen this time.

     But of course, George Weasley had other ideas, and she was proved wrong. Very very wrong.

     George scoffed in amusement, "Come on," he laughed, "you didn't really think I was going to pass up the opportunity to see Addie Sweeney's dorm room did you?"

     The prospects of George Weasley entering Addie's dorm room were far from pleasant. But George was right about one thing ─ he is a very stubborn creature. Maybe if she kept him in the entrance area, she could keep the nosy demon at bay?

     "Fine," Addie said, exhaling a large breath out. Her shoulders sagged in defeat, causing her whole top half to lunge forward. "But do not move, do not touch anything. In fact, don't breathe if possible," Addie instructed, her pointer finger fixated on his face. George laughed internally at the connection to his mother and at Addie's desperate attempt to stay in control. "I mean it, Weasley."

     The door creaked slightly when Addie turned the knob and pushed it open. She was hit with the familiar scent of her dormmates and fresh clean sheets. Each bed was made, each corner neat and tidy, with yellow flourishes dotted around. George couldn't help but think that it was the exact opposite of what his own dorm looked like. It was nice to see a contrasting approach.

     As Addie fished around under her bed, George admired the cage resting on her bedside table and it occurred to him that he didn't know what pet Addie owned. The roof of the enclosure bathed whatever lived inside in a dark glow, but George could just about make out the outline of a toad. He heard it croak too. Addie didn't seem like the kind of girl to have a pet toad. He crept his fingers towards the iron bars of the cage, curious as to what a toad feels like. He stepped away when Addie sent him a hard-nosed glare, his hand slowly retreating back to his body.

     When she got up to her feet from the floor, Addie was hefting a rather large book, with crinkled pages and a leather cover. George cocked his head and became secretly worried about whether it was a book he was supposed to own. Because he didn't recognise it.

     She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, as she flicked one final page, and settled on it, having found the spell she was looking for. "Here we are," she said, causing George to approach her bed.

     Addie drew her wand, took one last glance down at her book, and with a wave of her wand in the shape of an S she said the incantation: "Scourgify."

     George stared down at his clothes and observed as the splattered orange stains gathered in the middle of his shirt, where they quickly disappeared into thin air. His robes felt lighter, and he was suddenly very grateful that his clothes are never normally damp. "Ah, brilliant," George said, running a finger along the hem of his shirt. "Come to think of it, I do remember that charm. Fourth-year, right?"

     Addie smiled caustically, "Nice to know you pay attention," she shoved the book to a close, and George could have sworn he saw some dust flutter out from beneath the layers as the pages made contact.

     "I do indeed," he said slowly, his mind elsewhere. He studied the book carefully, intrigued as to what its pages held. Even if George Weasley isn't one to pay attention, nor care to his textbooks, he knew this wasn't one of them.

     Before she even got the chance to blink, George snatched the book from her grasp in one swift movement, instantly made aware of its weight. Addie's mouth dropped open, at the loss of leather against her palm.

     Once he had it comfortable in his grip, George lifted it up to his height, turning it like meat on a stick. "So what's this magical device, you've got going on then? You my Fairy Godmother?"

     She clamped her teeth shut, and seemingly no longer cared what her dentist would say. "It's just a book, you dipshit," Addie said, swallowing the worry she felt ─ this is quite literally exactly what she feared would happen. "Now give it back," she said.

     George noticed how she tried to hide her concern with a forced tough act. And after a few seconds of the boy not returning the book to her possession, Addie tried to reach for it. But being the skilled Quidditch player he is, George's reflexes topped hers, and he pulled it away, just out of her reach. Much to her disadvantage, her evergrowing scowl, and blooming look of pure hatred, just fueled his power over her with each passing second.

     Addie soon realised that his height was never going to allow her to snatch it out of his hands. George's smirk blossomed. "Hang on a sec," he said. "There's no need to be so needy." 

     George made sure the book was beyond her access before he turned the first page. It was her writing inside. His face broke out into genuine glee. It's like he had her in a chokehold. And she knew it. "You've got a diary?!" he chuckled incredulously. He wasn't so much in disbelief that she owned one ─ he could have guessed that ─ but more so about the fact that it was in his possession. 

     "Oh, this is good."

𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗘'𝗦 𝗧𝗜𝗣 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗬 ━━

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