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WWWP: NC, Chapter 7

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Chapter 7: Tonks and Charlie

"Why is it always Hufflepuff?" Tonks asked flatly as the Gryffindor team began to hoist Yet Another Weasley up in the air. She couldn't even remember the bloke's name, and he was better at quidditch than her. That's the thing with Weasleys; they were all freakishly talented. Except for Ron.

"I suppose it's either the complete discrimination towards the less-mentioned house, or that we're not really good at anything. Now that I reconsider, it's probably just all of the above," the captain mused, then went to try to drown himself in the showers. Tristan Wood was very sardonic sometimes, Tonks thought, watching him go with wide eyes.

"We're good finders!" called another team mate, beginning to run after the captain, but Tonks held him back and shook her head.

"He will always be this negative and sarcastic, John. Let's just hope he gets out of the hospital wing before our next game against Ravenclaw, which we'll probably loose anyways due to our complete ineptitude," Tonks intoned. John's face fell, and it was understandable, for it's not so easy being a Hufflepuff.

The Hufflepuff quidditch team then hit the showers in shame, while the Gryffindors went off to their common room for an all-night (yet very smelly) party. It was then, just as she had finished changing, that Tonk's hair faded to its natural mousy brown in shame. As she left the changing rooms, team mates looked at her in awe (except for Wood and the two team mates trying to convince him that life was worth living without winning). She didn't noticed, and merely kept walking.

Meanwhile, Fred and George had just finished formulating their plan, and now just needed one random, unsuspecting, and, if at all possible, hot girl to walk by so that they could set it into action.

"Here, girly, girly, girly, girly, girly...where are you? Just walk in front of us and there won't be trouble...or...erm...less, as it were," George amended while Fred shook his head. To Fred, it seemed as though all of his sibling were original except for George. And Ron.

It Was then that a very unsuspecting Tonks walked by with her too-small Harpies T-Shirt. Fred and George pounced.

"What the f-MUPHHMUHFFLEMUFF!" Tonks splurted as the twins gagged her. She was not a happy camper, to say in the least. However, this did not bother Fred and George. On the contrary, they relished it. And so did the automatic censor.

"Where did you tell Charlie to meet us again, George?" Fred asked, after waiting for about an hour in the pre-arranged position. Tonks was busily snoring in the corner looking very tied-up. With rope, that is.

"Erm...here?" George asked/said, for his script said that he should say it quizzically. And should therefore be written with a question mark.

Then, just in time to shut up the annoying semi-narrator, Charlie arrived in all his drunkeness.

"Freeed! Georshe?" Chrlie slurred, bumping off walls like a true Gryffindor (cough, drunk, cough). The twins did simultaneous palm-foreheads at the same time, then began to push Tonks towards Charlie.

"Whazzat? Why're you waking me u-AAAHHpp," she yelled, then crashed into Charlie, "Oh, *censored*, I *censor*-ing HATE Mondays." She had realized who she had crashed into. Charlie merely looked blearily down at her, glanced at the mistletoe hanging above his head, and went in for the metaphorical kill.

Charlie's P.O.V.

-they bore him back home
To the place that he'd known as a lad,
They laid him to rest with his hat inside out...mmm...tongue

Tonk's P.O.V.

D*mn, *censor*-ing Weasleys and their d*mn *censor*-ing mistletoe. *Censor* this. Ugh...he smells like Firewiskey. Hey, Firewiskey...mmm...

No one's P.O.V.

Snap.

"RUN, FORREST, RUN!" Fred yelled, summoning the mistletoe and running for the common room.

"WHO'S FORREST?" George yelled back, the camera swinging around his neck as he followed. Fred did not see fit to answer and sped up. This was understandable, as Tonks was chasing them at speeds previously unreached by any humans or wizards alike.

And they all lived happily ever after (probably).





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