A/N: Ok, hello!
This is one story I've been really into writing so here it is
I know, I know I am postponing the rest of my stories for it but I promise none of them will be neglected!!
I just couldn't keep this story waiting any longer.
I do hope you like it!!!
And I have one request: Review!!!
I practically live on those.
So, yeah, I own nothing it is all J. K. R. 's
But never mind that,
DEAD OR ALIVE
Chapter 1: Dead
Today is one of those rare days where you feel glad just for being alive.
The sun is playing with the few clouds that roam the skies and Diagon Alley is full of life like it is only in the beginning of a new school year.
Wizards and witches walking –pacing even- on the street, door-bells singing like birds during spring and every once in a while a parent calling out something like 'No, Hugo, you cannot bloody buy Decoy Donators for the new school year. Minerva will be just fine without bombs walking in her castle!' .
And when I say some parent I mean, my parent, Ronald Weasley who is at the moment scolding my brother for trying to smuggle prank material from uncle George's shop.
So there goes my peaceful day out of the window.
Frankly, I'd say it lasted longer than I had expected. Twenty minutes without hearing my dad or brother shouting for the whole road to hear was a dream come true.
Too bad it didn't last more.
"Hugo, your father is right. Go give your uncle back his products and tell him we will deal with him later." My mother says glaring towards Uncle-George's shop and Hugo, catching the glare pouts evidently. Oh, he is such a baby…
"But mum…" He whines , again for the whole road to hear. I feel a blush creeping up my neck at my family's manners.
"No, Hugo, unless you plan on passing the whole of fifth-year with your old broom." Mum puts her hands on her hips. My dear brother widens his eye in utter terror.
"Oi! 'Mione that was too harsh!" My dad interferes. And earns a death-glare all for himself.
"Rosie, we're going to buy your brother his books, I gather you'd rather buy yours on your own, since you are now officially a seventh-year." Oh, how I love my mum! I nod delighted and take some money my dad is offering me.
And I hadn't yet walked ten steps away from them when a familiar, hateful voice catches my ear.
"Well, look who's here." Someone from behind me syas . Someone it takes me less than a second to identify as the infamous Scoprius Malfoy.
"Want something Malfoy?" I hiss without bothering to turn and face his Highness. I know what I'll come across anyway.
Tall figure, just a little too tall for my own liking. Slightly built body, which could mean only one thing, he spends all his free time playing Quidditch instead of doing something productive.
Long pale neck, which make shim look like a troll (don't ask why). Grey eyes…so common. And last yet not least blond hair.
Now about blonde hair I don't even need to come up with something bad to say, blondes are dense everybody knows it.
So all in all a repulsive figure that noone would want to see unless he was really curious to find out how his dinner looks like now.
Note: If one of those stupid giggling girls that pretend to be educated in Hogwarts start going on about 'how hot' he is and 'how charming his eyes look like' and 'how they would die to be held in his strong hands' just shut your ears. That's what I do.
"Actually, no I don't. I just heard your family shouting from the other side of the country that I was and thought I'd come to say 'hi'." Ok, first thing I hate about Malfoy? He's such a sheer. He can just tell what I am thinking and then goes ahead to point it out on my face just to see how pissed off I'm gonna be.
I turn to face him at last. Needless to say that I see exactly what I expected to. Plus the Malfoy-smirk! Great.
"Well, at least my family is here to shout. Unlike yours." I snap at him using this small piece of information I forced out of my cousin last year.
You see the Malfoy household avoids big crowded public places like the plague because they are not really liked. For certain reasons.
Malfoy's face turns paler and paler and he narrows his eyes at me. Bingo. I hit the jackpot here.
"Shut up you bitch." He exclaims but his words don't affect me at all. After six years of endless swearing and fighting on both parts you just get used to it.
I mean during first-year when he called he 'a blood-traitor' or 'a bush with legs' or even 'filthy troll' I cried myself to sleep . But one can cry that much tears.
After that I began fighting back. 'Arrogant prat' and 'Self-absorbed sad excuse of a human' being my favorites.
"Shut up? Hadn't you opened your bloody mouth Malofy I wouldn't have even noticed you." I point out, knowing how much it annoys him to be ignored.
"Yeah, sure Weasley, keep saying that to yourself and maybe someday you'll believe it." Oh, he's got an appetite for destruction hasn't he?
"Hey! Malfoy, do you see me carrying 'Witch's Weekly'? Or polishing my nails? Or talking about my nose job?" I ask him deviously. He seems somewhere between laughing and hexing me.
"You had your nose done? Sure seems crooked enough to me..." That little comment earns him a glare and he quickly contains himself. "No." He finally replies pretending to check me first.
"Then why on earth would I fancy you?" I shout triumphantly. Mission accompliced! Or not…
I was expecting him to be fuming, however all he does is chuckle a bit. Ok then… I have no idea what's going on. Why isn't he fuming? Weird.
"Good one Weasley." Is all he says. More weird… He then raises his head a playful look plastered on it. Oh, no!
"I think we're going to have a great time together this year." What?! What am I missing here?
I stare at him questioningly and he smirks at me, or grins , I'm not sure. He clears his throat and fakes a formal voice.
"It is my great pleasure to meet you Miss. Scorpius Malfoy Head Boy for the year." No bloody way! No. Merlin you cannot do this to me. I was a good person wasn't I? Then why do you have to torture me like this? Why?
"You have got to be kidding me!" I howl at him and I feel dangerous. I hope he feels it too.
"And judging by your terrifying looks –not that they aren't always terrifying- I guess you got Head Girl. Right Weasel?" Right! Damn McGonagall for this.
I mean how could she be so oblivious as to appoint Malfoy as Head-Boy? Huh? He's like the most devious, pompous, self-centered, idiot ever!
He is the guy who sees you mad because you failed a test and then proceeds to announce he excelled. 'What was it that you got Weasel, an E? Pity then that I got an O.' His words not mine!
He is the guy who manages to ruin even the best days of your life. Like when Carl Zabini asks you to Hogsmeade and he manages to get you a detention for Saturday morning. Because, you know, you just had to hex him for calling you a mudblood!
He is the guy who laughs when you get hit by a bludger during the Gryffindor-Slytherin game.
Damn! He's the fool who sent the bloody bludger your way!
All in all Malfoy, for the past six year had been my own personal nightmare. How could McGonagall do this to me?
"So what if I did got Head-Girl? Got a problem with that?" He laughs. Is it me or is he enjoying himself just a bit too much ? I grit my teeth preparing for an out-raging comeback that only he could give.
"Me?! Of course not! I mean who wouldn't like to share a common room with you?" Well, same here you prat!
"The feeling is mutual Malfoy. But I guess one of the two Heads just had to be responsible." He snorts and smirks. I smile victoriously.
"Yeah, I know, McGonagall really counts on me to save the day." Very funny.
"Oh, don't make me laugh. I don't even see why she bothered to make you Head-Boy. When there a re all those nice guys she could give the place to." He narrows his eyes at my last comment. But he quickly regains his posture. I guess I'm not the only one who is used to this kind of insults.
"Maybe I'm not nice Weasley, but I sure possess good looks and wit. You ne the other hand have neither of the above. Reading all day because you just can't understand a single thing at once. Annoying everyone with your rules, because since you have no life then noone else should. Calling yourself smart cause you'll just never be pretty enough." I feel a lump in my throat and a pain in my stomach. I thought his words could no longer affect me.
How wrong had I been!
And you know what the worst part is? He is bloody correct. In everything he says.
Comparing to him I am rather dense. I do need to study before grasping a theory whereas he learns it by heart as soon as the Professor says it.
It is true that I have no life and I am trying to contain everybody else from acting foolishly. I excuse myself by saying I'm just keeping them from trouble but the truth is, I guess I am a bit jealous.
And finally, no, I do not possess his good looks. Not even close. I am rather plain. I do have auburn hair, which are usually considered special but since half of the people in Hogwarts (us, the Weasleys) have the same hair-color it s hardly important.
I am not tall or too short which I suppose is positive but I haven't a spectacularly curved body. My eyes are blue, a boring ocean blue. Nothing like his strange captivating grey ones.
Merlin, Malfoy is right. I suck.
But wait a minute! He has no right to spit it in my face like that. It is not my fault that I am not gifted or beautiful. Nature's all to blame.
I see him smirking. AGAIN!
And then I just snap.
"Why don't you just go jump off a cliff Malfoy? The world will probably be a better place without you!" I shout at the top of my lungs not even caring that the jolly happy by-passers have stopped to listen to our disputing.
"After you." Is all he says to me. All cool, calm and collected. Oh, how I hate using those three words! And he turns away from me and flees the scene. I watch as he walks nonchalantly towards a small road and gets lost in it.
I twist and turn in my bed. I cannot believe that this bastard's words are in fact going under my skin. I have been lying down since eleven o'clock and now it is three o'clock. And guess what? Still awake. Yeah…
Oh, damn him, I give up. I can't sleep. Period.
I make a slow move to get up from my bed, when a strange shadow catches my eye. I turn to look at the half-open window.
Hey! Did I leave the window open? No. I don't think so. I remember clearly thinking how cold this September is and closing it before going to bed.
But the thing is…this window is open. And – and there seems to be somebody there.
Oh, sweet Merlin!
"DAMN ! Malfoy! What the heck are you doing on my window?" I shout and howl at the top of my lungs. And don't give me the 'you're-so-overreacting' look. What would you be doing if you found your arch-enemy sitting on your window-sill at three o'clock in the morning? Three o'clock in the morning!
"Merlin's pants Weasley! Shut it, will you? We need to talk." Erm...come again?
"Malfoy, we don't talk, remember? I hate you, you hate me...WE do not talk!" How clearer can I possibly be. The blonde prat is still watching me unmoving, a smirk fighting to come out. Yet there is something more on his pale face than mockery.
"Blah, blah, blah...Yeah, I know the drill, now listen up." Oh, don't you 'blah, blah' me Malfoy! I shiver a tad as the summer wind passes threw the open window. Awesome. Now I'm getting a cold thanks to his Highness Mr Scorpius Malfoy.
"No. I will not listen up." I hiss at him. "I am not your mommy , not your daddy, not your bloody shrink, so no reason for me to listen up. Got it?" He narrows his grey eyes at me and I glare back. "Now sod off."
"Well, that's the deal. I can't." He mutters and he sounds surprisingly sincere. Wow! That must be a first. I mean, Scoprius Malfoy and sincerity just do not fit in the same sentence. Trust me I know. I've spent six whole years with him.
"Oh, really why? Did you just realize you love me and I am the only reason you live?" I snap at him sarcastically.
"No to the first -obviously- and yes to the second." What?! Ok, I lost it. And this is not normal let me tell you. For Rose Weasley to lose it.
"I-I...Erm..." I stammer. Great answer Rosie!
"I am dead." Malfoy announces calmly and I turn to stare at him for a moment. His windswept blonde hair shining in the moonlight, his dark grey eyes serious as you hardly ever see them, his face with a weird expression on it, his tall figure...on my window sill!
Yeah, good one Malfoy. I mean come on, is that the best you can do?
"Sure you are, if my dad catches you." I point out matter-of-factly but he doesn't respond they way I would have wanted him to. He doesn't smirk, or snort. He simply eyes me, and I suddenly become very aware of this thing that is spread all over his face.
It took me some time you see, cause before tonight I had never seen this expression on his face. Then again I bet that before tonight this feeling together with sincerity did not exist for Malfoy.
It is fear. Maddening, blood-freezing, sickening fear.
"I don't think you grasp the seriousness of my manner, Weasley." What is that supposed to mean. Is he in fact expecting me to believe he is dead?
"Do I look like a five year old to you?" He sighs audibly. Oh, so now he is exasperated at my reaction. The guy who is standing on my window in three o'clock in the morning is sighing at my attitude.
"Weasley listen to me. It is weird I know but I'm in fact serious." I would have continued mocking him but this fear in his eyes stops me. No matter how surreal it seems to see Malfoy scared I cannot but be taken aback by it.
"Stop messing up with me, you idiot. Just do whatever mischief you came to do and leave." I know I sound like such a looser but I'm so fed up with him and his madness. "Fine then. As you wish." He smirks and takes a step inside my bedroom. Ok, I just hope this is the first and last time he sets foot on my room.
He looks annoyingly tall so I stand up from my bed to face him eye to eye. No. Still much taller.
And then he towers over me. I must admit I feel sorta intimidated. Partly because of this 'fear' I see in him, partly because he is invading my space. He raises a hand and brings it up to my shoulder. I see his arm coming closer and closer and I prepare myself for the impact. But I feel nothing. Not a single thing.
At first I assume without even looking away from his eyes that he changed his mind. That he decided to spare me and himself from the torture of physical contact.
Then I look down. At his hand and I realize that physical contact would have been in fact welcome compared to what I see now.
His hand is in my shoulder. Not on my shoulder but rather in it. Going threw it and coming out from my back. Now half his arm is passing threw me. Like he is some sort of ghost.
"Here. If that messes you up as much as it messes me up then my mischief is done." Is all he says before I open my eyes wide and take two steps backwards, falling heavy back on my bed.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE DEAD, MALFOY?" I finally ask trembling and shivering. Yet I doubt that cold is to be blamed for it this time.
"Finally! Now listen up!" Oh, my god, oh my god, oh my god…
A/N: Ok, I hope I didn't freak you too much!
Tell me what you think people!! Should I keep this going or drop it?
And just to be clear this is not one of those stories that end up in tears.
It is a happy-end story
Just saying it cause it probably doesn't seem that way now
Thanks everybody for reading and…dare I hope? Reviewing?