Wallflower

I was usually one to sleep late in the mornings, so I knew right away that there was a problem when I awoke and out my window was still dark. Hunter was sitting on the window sill outside, calmly cleaning his feathers and ruffling them every so often. I sighed, I could just go back to sleep but then I wouldn’t wake for hours longer. Pulling myself from the bed I noticed little else other than myself, the window and my bird. I was so out of it that I hardly noticed the string tied around my ankle. Funny, imagine what that would be doing there.

A moment later I knew that sleep would evade me for the remainder of the night, day, possibly week or longer. A shriek slipped through my lips as a rather large amount of a wet, gooey and thick substance fell seemingly out of nowhere and covered me head to toe. Paint. I froze, mouth wide open, and just a second later the light was snapped on. Normally I would be cross with the light being turned on so rapidly, and not having time to get used to it, but I was already more than awake. I looked down at my body and saw that I was covered in red. A quick glance around my room showed me how it was decorated in Gryffindor tapestries and banners. I glanced up, and a certain look was shared between my uncle and I. He too looked cross to be awoken in such a manner, and to find such a mess, but I highly doubt that he was as angered as I at this very moment. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door next and immediately looked crestfallen. They knew as well as anyone else that this was entirely the twins’ doing.

A scowl presented itself on my face as I stood there, dumb founded and tried to make sense of what exactly warranted this treatment. Uncle came over, careful not to touch the substance and ushered me out of the room and into the bathroom on this floor. “There, there Rosie, we’ll get you cleaned up in no time.” He comforted me. I nodded mutely and got into the bathroom. Uncle shut the door behind me, staying outside in the hall. Gingerly I stripped myself of my clothes and got into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would go. As the water cascaded down my slick skin and took the paint with it I sighed. This was already turning out to be a bad day. I washed the paint from my hair and skin before getting out of the shower. Some of my skin had been tinted a light pink from the red dye in the paint, and my usually dark maroon hair had more of a reddish tone to it also. I admitted defeat in trying to get off the paint that was, no doubt, charmed to stain and wrapped a towel around me. It wasn’t one of those big, fluffy towels that you find in hotels, or that rich people had. No, we had some money to our name but not bunches of it. I liked to think of us as a normal family, therefore we had normal towels.

Wringing my hair of excess water I stepped out of the shower in the towel. Neither I nor my uncle had thought to bring clothes for me to change into, so I sufficed to run the way to my room as scantily clad as I was. With the way my luck was turning however, I should have expected an obstacle in my path. “Fred move.” I said sternly. I clutched the towel around my body, hoping against all bloody hope that nothing was showing and that he would move.
“Well now, for a Slytherin, you don’t look half bad.” He taunted. I had a feeling that this was going nowhere good.

“Fred, I advise you get out of my way.” I said through clenched teeth. I’d be damned if he got the better of me, but he was really ticking me off.

“Now tell me, how are you sure that I’m not George? Why are you certain that I’m Fred?” he asked, a smirk on his face and a laugh in his eyes.

“It’s not as though I’ve just met you yesterday you wanker, I’ve known you for the last five years. It’s you who just met me Fred.” I seethed trying with all my might to push him away from my door. I may have a slender build and be short, but I’ll be damned if he shows me up just because he’s a boy and is taller than me.

“Now, now let’s not be so hasty. I thought we might talk a bit, get to know each other more. What do you say?”

“Don’t you have a less annoying twin to be with? And get out of my way you fat arse!” I yelled finally getting the last push in that made him jump out of my way. I opened my door and turned around, he looked stunned that I was able to uproot him so fast. “I’m not the Slytherin Quidditch Beater for nothing you know.” I stated before closing my door behind me. I dropped my towel and put on my knickers, following them with some blue jeans and a black tank top. I wrapped my Slytherin scarf around my neck and as I was putting socks on a pop sounded beside me. Without even looking I retorted to the intrusive sound, “Just because you can apparate does not give you unlimited access to my room Fred.”

He started talking beside me but I decided not to listen to a word he said. Tuning him out I slipped on my converse shoes and walked out of my room and down the stairs. I could hear the sound of Fred's voice following me, but still paid no mind to it. Grandmother Walburga was still sound asleep in her portrait, so I passed by noiselessly as to not wake the entire house. Upon reaching the main floor I walked into the kitchen and started fixing myself some tea. The adults were again in the room, and Fred promptly shut up and sat down at the table. “Mrs. Weasley, do you by chance know where George is?” I asked politely, stirring in a lump of sugar and some cream in my tea.

“He’ll still be in bed, Dear. Wonder that Fred is even up. Tell me, has he been bothering you?” she asked, shooting him a pointed look. I looked at Fred and he almost seemed to plead with his eyes not to tell her anything. I figured I could give him the satisfaction, and deal with him myself later.

“No, Mrs. Weasley. I just came across him on my way down the stairs.” I lied smoothly, sitting down across from the prat.

“Oh, well that’s good Dear, but please, call me Molly.” I nodded in response and continued to sip my tea, staring at Fred. Fred, the right bloody wanker that couldn’t give me a bloody moment’s peace.