Molly Stone

I'm a rebel just for kicks

14 posts in this topic

After Casper told her she didn't actually know the red-head who'd shared her dibs on the ban list and demanded a strict ban on Dax Gordon (and his ego/sunglasses), Molly decided she'd go out of her way to get to know the older girl, just to prove him wrong. Also, Molly had a good vibe about her.

 

"Wait up!" she called, finally (finally) slipping out of the caretaker's office to tail the retreating body of her soon-to-be co-conspirator. 

 

"We're sharing dibs, fine." Molly declared. "And, and we'll ban that kid and his dumb ego and sunglasses," she asserted as the duo ended up in a nearby classroom. Let it be known: Molly didn't actually think it was possible to ban people. She'd merely chosen to go along with the act for entertainment purposes and for the possibility of a new friend.

 

"So, what else should we ban?" she prompted. "Can we just ban every single boy?" Sure, most of Molly's friends were boys, but they were all stupid and deserved it!

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Dibs were good, even when shared. To Fe, who had a surprisingly well-developed moral compass for someone who liked getting in body fistfights in the middle of the Great Hall and relentlessly winning at everything she threw herself into, dibs actually required equal distribution and, even luckier, seemed to spread themselves out accordingly, like intelligent little insects: two dibs here, two dibs there, a dib and a dab and everything neurotically even.

 

Fe nodded diplomatically at the affirmation of banning Dax and his stupid sunglasses, then pondered what else they could possibly do with their newfound power. She liked this girl. This girl had priorities, which was something Fe’s mum and dad prized. (Fe lied prizing things her parents prized.)

 

“Maybe not every boy,” Fe reasoned, because she had plenty of good reasons to keep plenty of boys around even if they were The Worst and also Inferior. Edwin, for example, shared custody of her cussing teapot; and Hawk was her conscience, without whom she would surely end up dead in the Forbidden Forest.

 

“But most boys would work.” Fe took up the Ban List and scrawled MOST BOYS BUT NOT LIKE ALL OF THEM in her chicken scratchy handwriting. “They should have to go through trials or something. Interviews.” (Her mum liked interviews. Decima liked making people nervous.) “To see if they suck or aren’t so bad.”

 

What else?

 

Curfew. Curfew is terrible. We should ban getting in trouble for being out late.”

 

G e n i u s .

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Back at home, Molly had been accustomed to planning everything on her own. She had (pretty much) been the leader of a group of boys who had a tendency to initiate street fights, but she made the executive decision to give herself authority on all escapades involving brain power - it wasn't until she got to Hogwarts that she'd come to realize she had to share some of the glory, to learn to work as a team outside of her sports' teams.

 

She'd slowly began to shift her mindset out of necessity, and by the time the red-head suggested sharing list-ownership, Molly had been particularly open to it - especially with the obnoxious competition. 

 

"Not every boy, fine," Molly agreed. It'd been easy to write out the gender as a whole, but truth be told, Chuck and Ham were two of her best friends.

 

She nodded in agreement at the girl's addition to the list. Molly and she were COMPLETELY SYNCING and GETTING ALONG as if they'd already been best, best friends FOR YEARS. She realized, then, that she didn't know her name: "Hey dude, what's your name again? I'm Molly." Now they'd officially met Best Friend Standards (Molly didn't know a whole lot about ~gals being pals~).

 

"Interviews, yeah, great idea," she spoke up. "What should the qualifications be? Other than don't suck. I agree!" Molly nodded animatedly. "Curfew is the worst. Hmm, what else? Oh, let's ban rules in general. Also, can we ban Casper and that girl originally trying to own the ban list? I dunno her name, but she's out."

 

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“Fe,” she said, tucking her moniker into its smallest piece, because only her dad and mum and sometimes Rowan called her Felicia. She grinned, and with that it was agreed, silently: they had crossed over into official Friend territory, and it had been quick and much less painless than it tended to be for Fe, who rubbed people the wrong way and trod on their toes, figuratively and literally.

 

“No sunglasses or floppy hair and they can’t talk like big jerks,” she listed, then shrugged, figuring that summed up Dax and any Dax-clones nicely. “The rest we’ll be able to tell if they’re good or not by their teeth.” (This was something her mum said when talking about horses, for reasons that surely translated into boy human standards.)

 

“Is Casper that whiny kid? Yeah, he was definitely lame, bye.” Trying to think of who it was that had commandeered the banned list, Fe remembered that it was Cecily Redwood and HOW WAS SHE NOT FIRST ON THE LIST?!?!

 

(Because Fe delighted in fighting her, that's why.)

 

"Cecily," she said darkly with a face sort of like this: garr.png "She should be banned from the whole world."

 

Banning all rules was a nice start, Fe thought, but there was something else on her mind, too.

 

“Homework. And Mondays. And being not-allowed to go into the Forest ever.”

 

Score one for all the Hogwarts rebels and kids with death wishes!

 


Edited by Felicia Fletwock
BAN CECILY REDWOOD

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Fe. Hah, Molly knew her name now. That'd show Casper real good. Befriending Fe was a whole lot easier than befriending Brigs (her only other friend who was a girl). She'd had to hold Raske on her shoulder for an hour - but this, this was painless.

 

Molly listed the points off on her fingers as Fe affirmed the bans. "Yeah that's a good idea. I sure as hell don't want to smell bad boy breath." But then she thought of Petey, who had Perfect Hygiene and hated Germs but deserved to be banned. "Anyone who isn't okay with slugs and caterpillars have gotta go, too," she declared. "Oh, I know - we could gather a jar of bugs and then see what kinda faces they make, and if they get all freaked out or something they're out." Molly had the best ideas.

 

"Yeah, that's him," she nodded. "Bye," the Gryffindor echoed, imagining a chorus of byes suddenly ringing and a gong sounding like in the Hunger Games, Casper being dragged off the scene. "Oh, yeah, I thought she was alright at first since she kept flicking Casper Abernasty in the forehead, but then she turned out to be the worst person in the world." 

 

Molly could be found vigorously nodding and agreeing with ALL THE BANS (the ones Fe suggested, anyway). "Let's ban Salazar Slytherin, too. He's the worst and if he ever speaks to me, he's getting a punch straight to the nose. A lot of Slytherins are awful, mind you."

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Molly had Fe at “jar of bugs.”

 

Was it normal to feel this way about friends?

 

Like there were not enough high fives in the world to demonstrate how rad and on-point their ideas were? Because seriously, a jar full of bugs to weed out sissies was literally the greatest idea since sliced bread and Fe officially didn’t have to be fake-friends with Molly ever because she was a genius, a fount of schemes and plotting.

 

Motioning movement, Fe began walking towards the woods, hoping that since it was still fall (ish) there would still be bugs lurking about that they could catch and deposit in an old preserves jar later on. Scanning the ground, squint-eyed, she nodded in rigorous agreement when Molly declared that Cecily was the worst person in the world.

 

Everyone knows it’s true,” she agreed solemnly, because duh, Redwood did suck and no one liked her because she was cruel and mean and not as good at fighting as Fe was, or at least fought for different and worse reasons.

 

Ducking down beside a bush, Fe plucked a caterpillar from a big leaf and dropped it into her other palm, letting it inch meekly across her hand. “I’ve only met one good Slytherin and we argue a lot, too. Plus she has red hair.” (Fe’s reasoning for this pronouncement was not defined.) “How many bugs do you think we’ll need? And can we spell them to make them really really big?”

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Molly was a flurry of quick and excited movement as the pair went from inside to outside, and before she knew it, toward the woods to hatch their brilliant scheme into action. The sky held iron-colored clouds and the grounds were alive with crisp air, with the mingling reds and oranges of fall.

 

"Oh yeah, the older Slytherin boy on my tournament team is okay, but he's a huge grump," she rolled her eyes. "Hmm, I dunno.. maybe all the bugs we can find and carry?" she suggested.

 

"That's a great idea," Molly commended, imagination swimming to life with the thought of GIANT BUGS. That'd weed out the chickens for sure. "I'm sure there's a spell, I just don't know it. Maybe we can have an older student help us? A lot of the Gryffindor prefects would, like Kaelyn and Addison and Darcy." Kaelyn and Darcy had even committed to taking Molly under their wings, and Molly was well on her way to garnering ALL the mentors. (She'd staked claim and dibs).

 

"Oh, Darcy's also a werewolf so she's super cool and can do anything!" Molly explained - ever since she found out Darcy could use her heightened sense of smell to help Molly locate the secret passages on the map she'd won from Godric's Quest, she'd tagged Darcy the best person in the world. 

 

Molly followed Fe's lead, plucking caterpillars off leaves, as well as beetles and she got super excited when she found a slug. Classic Stone. "We need a jar soon, but we can carry them for now. If I can't fit them all on my hand, I'll start carrying them on my arms and legs." Molly's favorite activity was placing bugs on the arms and legs of her unsuspecting peers, but that came as a close second to holding them herself.

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It was a great idea. Fe was chock full of great ideas. Between the two of them, she and Molly would have so many ideas that they wouldn’t even be able to hold them in their heads, and instead just execute them one after another after another to make room for more.

 

Kind of the same way their hands and arms were filling fast with slugs and beetles and moths. It was becoming difficult to carry them all, but Fe would manage because she was FE and Fe could do anything garr.png

 

She nodded along to Molly’s description of Darcy, and perked (more, if possible, than she already was perked) at the namedrop of Addison. “Addison was my mentor last year.” She neglected to mention that Addison didn’t seem to like her as much this year, after Fe had ruined Gary’s dorm room by covering everything in it in feathers. Fe did not want to peg her mentor as some kind of Gary-liker, but she really didn’t know what else would make her change so much.

 

“We’re getting a lot,” Fe observed, rather unnecessarily: both girls had so many bugs on their limbs that they looked like terrariums. “I wish we could make them smaller, to carry more…” Then, Fe had another great idea.

 

“We learned to make beetles into buttons this year in transfiguration,” she told Molly. “We could just turn them all into things that don’t move and put ‘em in our pockets so they won’t get away.” The Second Year pulled out her wand, pointed it at a big old beetle scuttling slowly up her wrist. “Praepilatus!”

 

The beetle stopped moving and squished down into a chubby black button. Fe grinned. Sometimes her magic sucked because she didn’t pay attention in class, but transfiguration felt like a competition to her, so she wasn’t too terrible at it. She held the button up proudly, then dropped it into a pocket. “You wanna try? We can keep walking and thinking up more stuff to ban, too.”

 

Her grandmother Laurentia would be eager to ban broomsticks, if she were party to this conversation.

 


Edited by Felicia Fletwock
garr

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Molly’s mind was an assembly of concepts and thoughts, ideas and plots. Fe only added to the disorder, and together, she was sure, they’d take over the world.

 

(Perhaps the frenzied excitement inherent to making a new friend had briefly warped her, but she was no less enthused)

 

Molly functioned on extremes, blacks and whites, bests and worsts. Rarely did she grapple with grey areas – their plans right now were the best, their friendship was the best, and would stay that way unless it became the worst (it wouldn’t).

 

“You’re the luckiest person,” Molly offered Fe a high-five. “She must be a great mentor – she’s the best duelist in the school, anyway,” the Gryffindor made this declaration abruptly, but was equally certain in its verity. Her skin had gotten sticky with sweat and bugs, but she hardly noticed it, too distracted by the buzz in her mind, ideas that pressed against her skull. Making them smaller so they could hold more struck her as a good plan – she wished she knew enough magic to help.

 

“Oh, brilliant!” she commended the transfiguration, tabbing the spell to memory. “Praepilatus!” she echoed, pointing her wand to a loitering caterpillar in her palm. It morphed into a button with six legs, each still moving as if attempting to escape from the shell. “Er.. at least the button is in place, right? Here, let me try again.” She mimicked the incantation on a brown spider she carried in her other hand, and immediately it squished into a black button.

 

“There! Okay, do you know how to turn them back into bugs, though? I reckon that’d be a bit trickier.”

 

The pair plodded along, earth crunching beneath them, and Molly continued to make buttons. “Oh, got it – we ban make-up and dresses. This girl in my year was putting on make-up right in the middle of the dueling chamber. It was the worst.”

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Bugs flicked and flitted over Fe’s freckled skin; it tickled and itched; she ignored it, or reveled. Molly offered her a high five and Fe precariously obliged, not wanting to rain slugs down on the girl and also loathe to lose her previous cargo. She hadn’t thought about how to turn them back into buttons again, and swore to herself (a jar of buttons would hardly weed out sissies), but then found forgiveness, because they were at a school for magic, duh, and would be able to find some older student to help them super quick anyway. Whether or not they would reveal what the buttons were before their transfiguration was a different question entirely…

 

“She’s wicked,” Fe agreed, nodding, but feeling a slight twinge of guilt and disappointment that her relationship with her mentor wasn’t as strong as it had been when both of them hate her cousin with equal horrid burning passion. She let the thought drop in favor of turning more bugs into buttons.

 

“It’s fine as long as it’s not too fast,” she assured Molly, “’cuz that’s the whole point, that they don’t move lots.”

 

The dirt beneath their feet was that cool mix of rained-on and dried-up fast, so it crackled satisfying beneath their soles as they walked. Could a day be better? Winning a ban list and then making a friend and then hunting for bugs?!

 

No. No, it could not.

 

“Yes. Ban the make-uppers.” Fe did not understand how people could waste so much time putting stuff on their skin that would wash right off if it rained, or wipe right off if they touched it. “And people who can’t manage seconds on Sunday roast nights.” Those were the true wimps of Hogwarts (as well as all of England).

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In truth, Molly wasn't sure where she stood with Addison Toft, either. She wouldn't readily admit it, but after their experience in Diagon Alley where she'd tried to claim dibs on a bench, the two had gotten off on the wrong foot. Addison had spent their duel implementing some warped version of revenge, but Molly had left with the distinct impression that she'd somehow managed to worm her way into the older girl's good books - or at least out of her bad ones. The Gryffindor prefect was impressive, and Molly would continue to try to show her she was worthy of a second chance. 

 

Her skin was now distinctly less crawly, still sticky with slime and sweat, but her pockets were heavier with buttons, some legless and others not. Wind prickled against her exposed flesh, a quiet relief. She hadn't minded the bugs, but this was more convenient. She caught a whiff of her hair - the scent of dirt and pine.

 

Sun spiked through the trees, late afternoon nearing twilight. Fe agreed - if she hadn't, Molly would still be her friend, but she wouldn't have trusted her completely. She'd learned you couldn't trust people who tenaciously exposed their flaws - Molly may have secrets, but she was an open book, honest to a fault. "Here's to that," Molly nodded. She didn't believe in wasting food, and why did people throw food around, anyway, when they could throw punches?

 

"Ban rule-followers - they're the worst. Ban prejudiced bigots and golden cauldrons - ban dresses and dress-robes," she scrunched her nose, plucked a slug off a piece of bark and turned it into a slimy button - the words tasted bitter. 

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The ban list was getting long: Fe wasn’t sure how much parchment they had, but was sure they would be able to charm it longer, or just spellotape another piece to the bottom so that they’d be able to continue adding things.

 

They were also growing heavy with insects, and buttons, the latter almost spilling out of even Felicia’s famously-deep pockets, and the former, having seen what had happened to their comrades, scuttling ever more nervously over Fe’s arms and shoulders and neck, desperate for escape but with no wings to fly on or no knowledge of jumping. The Gryffindor found a huge cricket and, grinning, gleeful, turned it immediately into a giant lime green button.

 

“Rule-followers are the worst,” Fe agreed adamantly. “It’s like they never wanna have any fun ever.” Doing stuff that was forbidden was the most fun Fe had at Hogwarts. If she had cared to carry a page of school rules, she would use it as a to-do list, not a deterrent.

 

She listened, nodding (to the terror of many bugs), to Molly’s next list. “So basically: show-offs.” As soon as she said it, Fe wished she hadn’t. She herself was a notorious show-off: it was in her blood. She tried to think of a better word to encompass bigots, gold-cauldron owners, and people who dressed fancy. “Or like…fancy-pantses. People who think they’re better than everyone.” She paused again. In a way she also had a superiority complex, but also: Fe was better than everyone – not in the way that made her mean or like she saw people as below her, just that she was the best at stuff and had confidence and knew she was great.

 

She huffed, twitching at a tickle of bug-toes.

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Molly gaped at the lime green, cricket-borne button. "You can make different colored buttons?" (Or was that merely an effect of an improperly performed spell?) "Lemme try." Molly set an earwig on her palm and performed the hex. She'd managed to free her hands, finding arms to be more efficient and mobile-enabling bug carriers. "Wicked. It's puke brown." A very technical term.

 

"That's like Casper," Molly agreed. "Fancy-pantsies, brilliant term." Fe was the best. Evidenced, also, by the number of times the word "agree" had been used in this thread.

 

They passed a small pond, and Molly's mind roamed, imagining writhing tadpoles or minnows in the glassy sheen. "Watch out," she pointed to Fe's hair, where a wasp crept up, contrasting sharply with the red blare. "I think it picked you 'cause you're bright. I've gotten stung loads of times and it feels like fire." Molly had always toughed it out, but wasps in particular had killer stings.

 

"Stay still," she advised, taking soft steps closer to the girl, near enough now that she could smell her hair, and pine. She could make out the outline of every freckle. Molly pointed her wand to the wasp, boldly, knowing what'd happen if she erred. "Praepilatus!"

 

There was a rapid gust of wind and the wasp dropped onto the damp, wooded path, a black and yellow button. Molly grinned in success. "I better not pocket that one. Probably don't need it turned back."

 

She plodded on.

 

"Next up is cheaters and big fat liars. They're the worst and gotta go." Molly sort of felt bad for how many trees the pair would kill with their endeavors - maybe she could learn a charm to extend the parchment without tree-murders. She'd put it on her bucket list.

 

(Not that she needed another list).


Edited by Molly Stone

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Already Fe was feeling better about her wording: for a long time she had thought people could be one way or another, but as she grew she was slowly coming to realize that within those two dichotomies of character dwelled another two, or three, or ten more. A show-off could be the good kind, like her, or the bad kind, someone who drew attention to themselves for no good reason other than they felt like having eyes on them. This thought fortified her to go crashing forward with the ban list, remembering to remember that there could be light and dark in every kind of personality.

 

And that she was awesome B)

 

And also covered in wasps B)

 

 

Okay maybe that’d didn’t qualify as AWESOME but Molly took care of it anyway, turning it into kind of a rad button that she hoped some fancy pants would find on the ground in the spring and transfigure back and it would go all stingy, like, don’t touch my rad bee-body with your hoity-toity hands!!! That would be wicked.

 

Molly was so close Felicia could hear her breathing, see her eyes pinch closed, focusing. Any other person in the world would have been concerned, but Fe Fletwock was not a worrywart.

 

“You could’ve just turned my ear into a button,” Fe said, grin blossoming on her freckled face. She didn’t mean it. The spell probably only worked on bugs anyway.

 

 

……………probably.

 

Fe could not stand cheaters, and perhaps this was the reason for her adamance in agreeing with Molly’s next ban suggestion. “Nobody’s worse than a cheater! Cheaters should be banned and then punched and then banned again.” She had strong feelings about grifting, fraud, and swindling. Her mum bent rules, sure, but always in the loophole way – never in the against them way.

 

“I think we’ve got enough bans – and bugs.” They were still covered in them, and all of Fe’s pockets were buried with buttons. “We should write ‘em up. Or you should, or someone who’s not me.” Fe’s handwriting was b e y o n d chicken scratch. One of her professors actually asked her why she’d done her whole homework assignment in ancient Sumerian one time. 


Edited by Felicia Fletwock
8) 8) 8)

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