Of Smiley-Faced Pajamas and Graceful Landings

Note July 24, 2013:

Well, I've officially penned the last word to the last chapter of this story. And now as I go back to this first chapter...all I can think of is how much this story has evolved. As a warning so it does not come as a complete shock (as I will not be changing the genre from humor/romance) - there will be ACTION in this story. Yes, there will still be humor (as you will hopefully find out, our Adela is a bit...odd, to say the least), but there will be some fighting scenes.

I will go through this story when I have the chance to edit some awkward phrasing/any typos I can find, but note that writing the sequel to OQaS will be my first priority. If any of you take it upon yourself to go through this story on your own...any corrections would be gratefully accepted! :D

Anyway, thanks so much for reading!

~E

Edited September 2, 2013

Author Note: Hi! Welcome to my new story This will (hopefully) be a bit more light-hearted/humour filled.

Disclaimer: I won't be putting this on every chapter, but just know that I don't claim any of JK Rowling's characters as mine.

"ADELA!"

Blargh. I shifted slightly under my covers, smiling as the cozy fabric of my thick blanket enveloped me with delicious heat.

"ADELA!"

This time the yell was a bit higher, the last syllable climbing to inhumane octaves. I winced, flipping over and slamming my princess-patterned pink – don't judge; I got it when I was four – pillow onto my head.

"ADELA. IF YOU DO NOT GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT I WILL SEND SETH UP TO GET YOU."

Well, that got me up. Grumbling unhappily, I hauled myself into what sort of resembled an upright position, my pajama-clad arms quivering as they tried to support my weight. After two seconds I flopped back down, my arms collapsing by my sides. Well. Poo to you too, arms. It wasn't like I weighed that much…stop looking at me like that! All I had were three brownies last night. In one sitting. As a second dessert. STOP WITH THE JUDGMENT OKAY. I'M A BEATER. BEAT-ER. AS IN I BEAT PEOPLE. TO THE DEATH. FEAR ME.

Just kidding. Sort of.

"ADELA LANCASTER GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE THIS SECOND!"

Oh. Right. Impending doom via twin brother and all that. I prepared myself for a graceful leap off of my bed.

Three…two…one…

Gah. My foot somehow got caught in the pink sheets, twisting my body forward and hurtling myself at an alarmingly high speed at the oak floor underneath.

Oof. I wonder what my trajectory was. That looked to be an arc of around 120 degrees. Which was strange, really, considering my distance from the bed. I scanned the floor boards, knowing from a previous calculation that each board was around a third of a meter long. There was around 3/5 of a board between the leftmost white bedpost and my right foot, meaning…I'd fallen forward a distance of 20.5 centimeters. Hey! That was 5.3 centimeters better than yesterday!

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I scrambled to my feet, attempting to brush off the dust bunnies now clinging to the hem of my smiley-face patterned pajamas.

Okay. What did we say about the judging? STOP ALREADY. I'M SURE YOU HAVE SMILEY-FACED PAJAMAS AS WELL.

Slam.

The door crashed open, revealing a rather muscular boy of around sixteen. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

The boy grinned wickedly, crouching down and tensing his muscles.

"Seth-" I began warningly, bringing my arms up to resemble some semblance of protection.

"Battlecry!" he roared, pelting forward in a movement that was almost too fast to trace. Stupid chasers with their stupidly fast reflexes. The part of my brain that was always calculating numbers – I refer to it as "Numberita." Oh, shut up. You just wish your brain was intelligent enough to merit a name – judged that he was moving at a rate of about 20 meters per hour as he was hurtling towards me. Can we just take a second to talk about how stupid my brother is. Battlecry? Really? He couldn't even think of an actual battlecry, so he just said "battlecry." How on earth I'm related to him, let alone his twin, baffles me. I have a theory that he was some orphan adopted by my parents. He was probably a pity adoption. Never mind the fact that he shares my parents' golden hair and light blue eyes…while I'm the one with dark brown hair and muddy eyes. Go genetics. I'm sure both my parents have recessive alleles for…oh, right. Crazed brother hurtling at me. Adela=in danger.

Then my beater instincts kicked in, and I grabbed the nearest object – a rather ugly sapphire tiara that some relative had given to me for my last birthday – and swung with all my might.

The tiara connected with his chest with a dull thunk, the metal crown rebounding at a speed about half of its original velocity.

We both paused as I examined the tiara half-heartedly, eying the dented metal dubiously. The inlaid sapphires still glittered as ostentatiously as before, each jewel just screaming "stuffy pureblood."

"Whoops?" I offered. Seth rolled his eyes, flicking me on the head. Ow. What if he'd damaged some of my brain cells?

I glared at him, tossing the forgotten tiara somewhere behind me. I was dimly aware of it landing with a resonating thwack on the hard wooden floor. Double oops. I'd meant to toss it on my bed…must have miscalculated the angle.

Shaking his head wearily, Seth said, "Mum's in a horrid temper. She says we have to leave-" here Seth checked the silver watch encircling his left wrist "-now, actually, if we want to make it to the platform on time." He eyed me, his mouth curling into a comfortable sneer.

What is up with Slytherins and their sneers? Honestly, you'd think they were getting paid per sneer.

Er. Actually, I think Seth had a bet at one point during fourth year that he could sneer fifty times during two class periods. I think he won twenty galleons during that period.

I followed his gaze, eying my cheery pajamas and suddenly becoming aware of the way my chestnut hair was matted into something resembling a rabid animal.

Chuckle.

I stared at him, my mouth dropping in a very attractive matter. Was he – was he laughing at my appearance?

I drew myself up, huffing angrily.

"Well, if you'll excuse me-" I began, turning my nose up haughtily. Hey, look – all those "lady" classes Mum forced me to go to actually were good for something. Turning on my heel, I walked – no, glided – gracefully towards the door leading to my bathroom. Congratulating myself on my walk – ha, I showed him – I stepped coolly into the bathroom, wincing slightly as my bare feet touched the cold marble.

I'd really have to talk to someone about heating the floors or something. There must be a spell for that. I reached up tentatively to touch my hair, wincing at my sallow reflection. My hair was literally an afro. I was sure to kick Dominique Weasley out of Witch Weekly's "Most Eligible Bachelorette" spot…not that I read frivolous rags such as those. Erm. Moving on.

Dark circles shadowed my eyes, which looked dark and lifeless. Joy.

"Battle cry!" Oh Merlin. It wasn't even worth resisting at this point.

Seth barreled into the bathroom, the door slamming into the inscribed tiles behind it. At this rate, Father was going to have to replace every single door in this manor.

"The Malfoys are here. It's time to go!" he said gleefully, taking a sadistic happiness in the fact that I looked, quite frankly, like a homeless muggle.

"But-but-" I protested weakly, motioning to the mess that was my hair. He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, woman. Are you a witch or not?"

Before I could protest, he whipped out his phoenix-feather wand from his back pocket (Mum always tells him he'll blow up his arse by doing that. Seth doesn't care) and flung it haphazardly at my hair.

"Seth, I don't want you-"

Too late. Silvery sparks shot from the tip of his wand, doing a quick twirl in the air – Merlin, even Seth's magic showed off – before shooting themselves into my hair. I felt a queer cooling sensation, almost as if I'd been doused in a bucket of ice.

"Well?" I asked. His mouth quirked, his eyes staring at my hair.

"What is it?" I asked, panic mounting. If he'd transfigured my hair into a rat or something I swear I'd…

"It's green!" he shouted gleefully. What?

Twirling 180 degrees, I faced the large mirror that lined the right hand wall.

Holy –

I gazed at my reflection, horrified at what I saw. My hair was a green – not even a dark forest green, no, that would obviously be too much to ask for. It was a hideous neon green – and it still was a matted mess!

I hissed, my eyes narrowing. My hands clenched into fists, my beater instincts starting to take over again.

"Seth. Gideon. Lancastar."

He smiled tentatively, his eyes widening at the murderous expression on my face.

"Now, now, Adela…you're not a Slytherin, remember? Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw, that's a good girl. Go back to your boo-eep!" he let out a very girly yelp. Ha. Let the girls at school hear that - maybe then they'd stop hounding me for information on his interest (ugh) -

I hurled myself at him, my fist drawing back to punch him in the chest.

"You." Punch. "Idiot." Punch. "Disgusting." Punch. "Twat." Punch.

"Hey, you lot ready? Your mum looks like she's about to-hey! Your hair's green!" came an all-too-familiar voice from the doorway.

My fist paused from its downward trajectory as I breathed heavily from my perch on Seth's stomach, glancing upwards to see Scorpius's grinning face.

Okay. What is with Slytherins smiling at my expense? I do not appreciate that, thank you very much.

"Shut up," I hissed, scrambling to my feet. He rolled his eyes, calmly flicking his ash wand at me. I felt another tingling sensation, this time resembling the feeling of wrapping a scratchy towel around one's bare skin.

My pajamas were transfigured into black muggle jeans and a flowy top. Muggle clothes.

"Scorpius, mum's going to kill me if I wear this," I said tersely, jabbing at the light blue atrocity currently wrapping my torso.

He shrugged. "If you want to go back to your smiley face pajamas, then be my guest," he said, moving to reverse the spell.

"No!" I cried. He smiled smugly, pocketing his wand. I scowled, punching Seth to get my anger out.

"Hey!"

I rolled my eyes, striding to my nightstand and grabbing my wand. Flicking it at the cherry-wood chest at the foot of my bed, I sent it in the direction of the carriage I knew was to be waiting outside of the manor's gates.

What? Stop looking at me like that! Oh, I'm sure you do magic at home too. It's not like the Ministry can do anything about it. Father's wards (and connections) are more than enough to block any unwanted Ministry trackers, thank you very much.

Ignoring the two bumbling idiots that were currently trailing behind me, I strode purposefully towards the gilded black carriage that awaited me.

Oh Merlin. It seemed like everyone had come to see us off. Mr. Malfoy stood quietly, his arm encircling the waist of his wife, the former Astoria Greengrass. The Malfoys were old family friends of the Lancasters, their friendship tracing back for generations. It was a wonder that we weren't related by this point…but Lancasters and Malfoys had always remained strictly as friends.

Father was tapping his foot impatiently, checking the gilded watch that was a Lancaster heirloom. My mother, the former Genevieve Black, stood, her arms crossed and her delicate mouth set in a disapproving scowl.

Uh oh. I smiled widely at them before sending the trunk hurtling into the recesses of the carriage. "Hi guys! Bye guys!" I said, scrambling quickly after the trunk.

"Adela Lancaster! What is wrong with your hair?!" came a muffled shout from behind the tightly shut – and locked – carriage door. I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to fall asleep.

"I know you're awake."

"Shut up Seth," I said, not bothering to open my eyes.

King's Cross was a good hour and 32 minutes away, about 250 km away from the manor.

92 minutes spent in close proximity with the two idiots. Fun.

I made up my mind to hex them if they so far as touched me.

Not hearing any sound from them, I opened my right eye slightly. They were participating in what looked to be a quiet violent game of thumb war, both of their faces red with concentration. I rolled my eyes, catching a stray strand of bright green hair from the corner of my eye.

Prats. All of them. Scowling fiercely, I turned determinedly away from them, staring determinedly at the scenery flashing by us.

"Oh, Adela-" Scorpius began after a few minutes of tense silence.

I turned, glaring at them.

He blinked, surprised at my anger. What? They really thought I wouldn't be angry after my hair was turned green?

Seth poked him, whispering loudly, "I always knew she was a Slytherin." My scowl deepened, and I snapped, "What?"

"Oh. Right. We're going to pick up Albus along the way. He doesn't want to ride with them," he said, his voice dripping with scorn. Scorpius – and the rest of the Malfoys – had always hated the whole Potter/Weasley clan. Something to do with being turned into a ferret. Anyway, Scorpius and Seth had always made an exception for Potter. They'd created an unlikely friendship back in first year when Potter was sorted into Slytherin (much to the shock of the Wotters…although I recall Mr. Malfoy being uncharacteristically gleeful…he went around muttering "Take that Potter" for a couple days after that). Frankly, I didn't understand why. I actually didn't really mind the whole Potter/Weasley clan. It was just Potter – oh, you know which one I'm talking about. Don't make me say his name – that I couldn't stand. He was actually worse than Seth. And that was saying something.

"Oh look we're here!" Seth shouted loudly, craning his neck to peer out the window. I involuntarily looked out as well, spotting the (unfortunately) familiar structure of the Potter house.

I huffed, crossing my arms stubbornly as Seth and Scorpius piled out of the carriage to get Potter. As soon as they were gone, I grabbed my wand and frantically began tapping at my hair. Come on – I had to be able to fix this! I could not face the whole school like this. It simply would not do.

"CHANGE BACK. DAMN YOU. STUPID BLOODY HAIR. HA. YOU DIDN'T LIKE THAT, DID YOU? WATCH OUT. I'M ABOUT TO GO ALL BEATER ON YOU. ARGHHHH JUST TURN. BLOODY. BACK." I shouted angrily, progressing to jabbing at my head forcefully with my wand.

"Erm. Adela…?" came a hesitant voice from to my right.

Oh great. Just bloody great.

I turned slowly, smiling sweetly.

"What?" I hissed quietly, meeting Seth's shocked eyes.

"Erm…nothing."

"That's what I thought," I muttered, catching Potter's smirking eyes for a second before pointedly looking away.

Huh. No snide remark yet from the Potter department? Maybe this ride wouldn't be so b…

"Your sister's a nutter."

Fantastic.

AN: I hope you liked it! Please review! Reviews make me update faster ;D

~E