c r i s t i n a (cristina_lacosa) wrote,
@ 2011-04-06 21:50:00

Entry tags:

+++charlesflavors

charles
happy ✢ angry ✠ sad ϟ concerned ☁ scared crying ✌ jealous ☺ first crush ★ regret ღ innocent birth ♦ betrayed ☄ best friend ☮ content ʊ traumatized death ☯ drunk ✿ flustered ☾ bitchy ✓ parental first year ✦ hogwarts ∞ deathly hallows ♣ family ❂ pick-your-own
	happy No one had ever told him how good winning would feel. Charlie wasn't sure if he could handle all of the emotion that was rushing through him. He'd jumped off his broom within ten feet of the ground, sure that he'd sprained his ankle but pushing through whatever pain, whatever soreness he was feeling. Charlie had literally worked half of his life for this moment, and all he could manage to do was jump, scream, and jump some more. He couldn't stand still, he couldn't try to stand for a quick interview with the WWN correspondent, he couldn't even stay in the dog pile that his team had ended up in (he did manage to jump on top of it, though). There were fireworks going off but Charlie couldn't tell if they were in the stadium or bouncing around in his head. It felt like the entire pitch was one gigantic blur of green and flashing lights, of bodies flying around, running around, it was sensational. Somehow, in something short of a miracle, they managed to drag him off the pitch and down the dark cement tunnel that lead to the locker rooms, where the celebration would truly begin. Champagne, fireworks, shooting streamers and everything anyone could ever want to explode in joy would be awaiting them. Maybe there would be cake, maybe there would be music, there should be music because this moment needed its own soundtrack, it needed---- He didn't know how, but the smile that had been plastered to his face somehow grew wider at the sight that laid before him. Charlie hadn't even reached the locker rooms, they were no where near there, but the one person that had helped him (and almost ruined him, if he was honest) this season was standing in front of him. Standing and waiting, and smiling and looking as if she'd just gone through the brutal match herself. His entire team was crammed in this small tunnel around him, none of them who were even aware of this reinstated relationship because of the dramatics it could cause and Charlie couldn't be bothered to notice as he pushed through his teammates and coaches and other Kestrel people to get to her. She was the reason he'd worked so hard, she was the reason he'd managed to keep his cool, she was the reason he did most of the things he did these days, and good God did he need to thank her for it. Their hands reached out for each other without a word, and Charlie gripped at the side of Penelope's face while she took hold of his jersey. Her hair was soaking wet, her clothes were as drenched as his, but it all went unnoticed as he kissed her hard, pulling her tightly to him, her own grip bringing them closer. The constant motion Charlie had been in for the last four hours didn't stop with this kiss, this snog; his entire body moved with hers until they had crossed the wide corridor and against the cement wall. Charlie's arm snaked around Penny and within second he had her up in the air, her legs automatically locking around his like so many times before, this was perfect, it was the perfect ending to any match he could ever have and--- "GET A BLOODY ROOM," one, two, if not all his teammates shouted from behind them. Charlie would be hard pressed to listen, but he instead turned back and grinned, holding Penny up and tightly still to him. "Go!" she whispered, kissing his cheek a few times, his chin, and then his lips once again, "Go, go!" Charlie pulled her closer still, kissing her soundly for a few more moments---more than that, he wouldn't stop until they pried them apart, which would probably happen once the press started its way down the tunnels. The champagne could wait, it could definitely wait while he thanked Penelope Fawcett in the best way he knew how. return to top
	first crush While Octavius had laid claims on the freshly single Maggie Brand, Charlie had decided that he would take on a more interesting challenge. What fun was it to win over a girl who’d just gotten her heart broken and was looking for a rebound? Charlie could definitely see the benefits in that chase and would salute his friend if he managed a victory, but he had his sights set on a more elusive prize. “Never going to happen.” He frowned deeply at his twin sister, who was just shaking her head in disbelief as he explained his motives. He’d needed to get into the dueling club’s party and Delilah was his only way in. She never seemed to believe in any of his ideas, and this one was no exception. “I’m a very handsome, fit bloke,” Charlie said, turning back to the long mirror that the duelers used to examine their stances. “There is no reason for her not to go for it.” “There’s one reason, one rather intimidating Slytherin-shaped reason, and his name is Donovan Rookwood, a.k.a. her boyfriend of nearly three years,” Delilah rattled off, her head still moving back and forth. Charlie rolled his eyes at the mention of Rookwood; Danielle Kettleburn had been locked into that relationship at the young, naive age of fourteen---Charlie would give her a sampling of what a real man tasted like, and she would forget that pompous Slytherin in a second. What was the prettiest, smartest girl in their year doing with a bloke like that anyway? Charlie could maybe understand the infatuation coming from a girl like Bertha, who seemed to fall in love with every guy that passed her by, but Danielle? She was way too smart for that, and Charlie would just have to break whatever spell Rookwood and his Slytherin ways had put her under. It was going to be rather easy, he felt. “Wish me luck,” he said with one final slick back of his hair. “You’re an idiot and you’re going to get yourself killed,” Delilah offered, and Charlie decided that he was not going to give her the sickles he’d bribed her with to get him into this party. He made his way through the crowd, having timed Rookwood’s depature for prefect rounds perfectly. Danielle was sitting by herself in a corner table, idly watching the crowd with her hands wrapped around a goblet of pumpkin juice. “Oy.” Charlie sat down across from her and grinned lazily, his eyebrow going high. He had been practicing this look in the mirror, and was pleased with Danielle’s look of surprise and the blush on her cheeks. “Hi,” she responded, shifting in her seat, eyes darting about. This was a good thing, he’d already flustered her. “You were brilliant in the match yesterday,” he said, knowing that a lady always liked to be complimented on something other than her looks. His grin widened as Danielle smiled and she nodded a thanks. “You were pretty brilliant in charms last week too.” “Oh?” she let out in surprise, and Charlie knew he had her. Not only had he let her know that he watched her duel, he also pointed out that he had been paying attention to her masterful charm work. Complimenting a girl on her skills and her brains was a straight way into the broom closet for a snog. He was sure she couldn’t even recall that Slytherin’s name right now (because he sure couldn’t), and Charlie leaned over the table, his chair legs lifting up as he found himself literally on the edge of his seat. His voice went low. “I bet you’re brilliant in other ways too.” A smart girl like Danielle could figure out that innuendo quickly, Charlie was sure, but he never got the chance to see if she did because quite suddenly the legs of his chair slipped out from under him---or more precisely, were kicked out from under him. He clocked his chin into the table before heavily hitting the ground, and he rubbed the sore spot as he lifted his head. Donovan Rookwood stared hard down at him, his lips twisted angrily, “I suggest you take your brilliant idea elsewhere.” Charlie grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet, avoiding Danielle’s eyes completely as he made his way through the crowd and out of this stupid party. Apparently mister perfect prefect Slytherin had forgotten his cloak and had to come back and completely ruin Charlie’s own attempt at sabotage. Delilah was never going to let him hear the end of this, and now he’d have yet another prefect against him. Brilliant. return to top
	best friend “I hate snow. I hate school. I hate her.” “Buck up, Charlie,” Octavius Pepper said encouragingly, cuffing his friend in the shoulder. The two trudged through the high snow of the fields of Hogwarts, heading toward the frozen Great Lake. Charlie could barely feel his friend’s light punch, but it annoyed him just the same. Octavius didn’t seem to notice his best friend’s frustrations and continued on in his chipper tone, “Think about it, if you hit your growth spurt just like Delilah, you’d have boobs.” Charlie stopped, the snow reaching past his knees. Was Octavius an idiot? Had he gone four years without realizing that his best mate was a complete and utter moron? “I’m joking,” Octavius said, much to Charlie’s relief even though he tried not to show it on his face. They boys continued on their trek, and Charlie continued to mutter. “She’s just so bloody embarrassing,” Charlie complained. This trip out onto the castle grounds had been to get his mind off of his irritating twin sister, but it seemed like even miles upon miles of white, snow-covered ground could not erase his twin’s chesire-cat like grin. She lived to embarrass him, and maybe he’d deserved it for telling her she looked like a giant bird, but she didn’t have to mention that she was a good head taller than him. A bloke has few things to cherish in his life, and his masculinity is one of them. Girls don’t need to be tall to be pretty. There were no short famous people, there were no short quiddtich players outside of the girls who flew around like hummingbirds. Why on earth would she have called the attention on all of the common room to just let them know that he was the shortest boy in their year, maybe the entire House? With each step Charlie grew more agitated, the little hill acting as an opposing force against his mental relief, “I--just---hate----her.” “Nooo,” Octavius said, struggling up behind Charlie. His face was bright red from the cold, his hat constantly slipping off because the hair that was sticking at all ends underneath it, “Sisters are stupid, believe me, I’ve got two of them. At least you don’t have six brothers who actually are taller than you and can sit on you for hours without feeling the need to get up to let your legs regain some feeling...” “Sextus really is an ass,” Charlie lamented, finally having reached the top of the hill. Even though his sister could be very annoying, Octavius always put the situation into perspective whether he knew it or not. One obnoxious sister was definitely better than eight siblings who could team up at once if they so desired. He put out his hand to help Octavius up the final few feet. “He really is,” Octavius agreed, wiping some snow off his pants as he stood with Charlie on top of the hill. “Look, we made it!” It seemed more impressive than it was; everything was white with snow and only the castle seemed to tower over them. Even the trees seemed to shrink with the weight of the snow, and for a second Charlie felt like he was the tallest man in the world. It also helped that Octavius was only an inch or two (or three, four--) taller than him, and with their winter hats who could tell the difference? Charlie took in a deep breath at the sight of the shimmering grounds, forgetting in the moment what had sent him climbing up this hill. Deciding that they could not wait any longer, Charlie reached into his coat pocket. He pulled the shrunken sled out and flapped it open onto the ground, grinning at how it was now solid and ready to ride. It was a marvelous piece of magic, if he did say so himself, and Octavius had been the one to save the sled before Filch turned it into firewood. A few weeks worth of tinkering and keeping the project a super-top-secret secret (probably one of the reasons why Delilah had been so pissy with him), Octavius had deemed it the best day to take it out for a test run. Charlie gestured for Octavius to take the helm, as he was the one who had found the sled, and, on a more silent, never to be told because that was just not manly note, Octavius had also managed to be the best friend he could’ve ever asked for. Even if all he did was suggest sledding and make fun of his sister. What more could a fourteen year old boy want from a friend? “Ready, ChaCha?” Octavius said, tugging his scarf tighter around his neck, wrapping it once more to cover his face. Charlie jumped onto the sled behind his friend and latched onto the side handles. He could feel the sled beginning to twitch forward, their weight tilting it down the hill before they could even push off. “Absolutely, Pepe.” return to top

scribbld is part of the horse.13 network