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Felicia Fletwock

The air is familiar, the sound is not still

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Felicia Fletwock

Hatless, but with mittens and a scarf forced upon her by Rowan (“YOU NEED YOUR FINGERS, FE”), Felicia Fletwock’s cheeks seared alarm-red as she constructed the world’s finest snow fort. She packed snow so hard with the palms of her hands that it turned to ice, shined and slick; it made a tapping sound when knocked, like a shell. It curved like a wave, to keep her protected from enemy fire; it had an arrow-slit window for full-arm throws of snowballs and lake slush.

                                            

When she was done and her mittens soaked through, hands pruning fast before freezing, Fe ducked behind her barrier and waited. Not long – within minutes, Dax Gordon came into view. Fe dismissed all the gifts she had gotten for Christmas: this was the real present. She grinned, became all teeth and wile; scooped up a snowball, aimed, and fired.

 

Malice and grimaces always flew true.

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Dax Gordon

Snow on the ground meant that it was time for Dax Gordon to be brooding in double leather and fine scarves and fingerless gloves instead of his usual brooding attire (which was the same, minus the scarves). It also meant that it was time for him to troll the grounds and take advantage of everyone being rolled up in Too Many Clothes; scientifically speaking, it was 93% easier to knock people over when their clothes outweighed their actual body mass.

 

He'd knocked over a fair amount of rounded geeks (read: three, two more than he was usually able to) and was feeling rather proud of himself. Almost proud enough, even, to retire for the rest of the day and nurse the color back into his paper-white fingers--the things he did for fashion--and snow soaked toes; he'd have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for that meddling Fletwock

 

A snowball knocked into the side of Dax's already frozen head and he hardly had to hunt for that old-rug-red hair of Fletwock's disappearing into a (begrudgingly well-made) snow fort. "Oi, you little twerp." Maybe not his best insult but his brain was as frozen the kneecaps under his torn jeans and he was cold and annoyed and it was her fault. He marched toward the fortress, less of a soldier and more of an under-oiled robot, and shoved the toe of his boot against the ice-thickened wall. "If you pull something like that again, Fletwock, you better be ready for a fight. I'm not afraid to come around and stick your face in the snow until it falls off."

Edited by Dax Gordon

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Felicia Fletwock

The snow gods smiled brightly down upon Fe Fletwock that morn, offering a clear view and true aim and the songs of winter birds peeping laughter down upon her enemies. The snowball smashed sideways into Dax’s cheek, and Fe let out a primal whoop of triumph; with it, a blur of breath curled strikingly soft into the air.

 

Not shockingly, Gordon stomped her way in his cut-up clothes (artful during the summer, just dumb in the winter) and stuck a boot into the wall of her fort. Fe scowled mean, pinched her dark eyes shut, started crafting a slushball behind her back so the boy could not see.

 

“Just admit you’re impressed with how good at throwing I am,” Fe snarked, feeling cold chunks of lake water such melting through her mittens. Just oooone more step, Gordon…just dig that stupid toe oooone more inch into that wall and you won’t even remember what it’s like to have a face. “You came over to like, congratulate me on my perfect aim.”

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Dax Gordon

hello this is not three months later nope

 

Poor Fletwock. The snow must have soaked through her skull and frozen her little brain up just as well as it'd frozen the lake. There was literally no other plausible explanation for the for the absolute trash spouting out of her mouth. 

 

"You'd sooner catch me admitting something ridiculous like that I dye my hair," which he did not (which he definitely did) "or that I'm secretly engaged to Rowan Allard." Even the thought turned his stomach, almost as much as the thought of actually complimenting something that Fe did. No, once Dax had established that she was definitely not a Real Girl, he'd dismissed all possibilities of pleasantries for her. No compliments, no friendliness, no nothing

 

He flashed her a wicked grin, sharper than the sting of the wind, while his toe chipped and chipped at the wall of her fortress. "You got lucky, is all. Probably enchanted it so you'd have a chance to hit someone." Not that he expected her to know any kind of advanced magic like that. It was a wonder she knew any magic at all. "You're just a cheater, is all." Each accusation was punctuated with another swift kick to the wall until bits of ice and snow flurried down into the tops of his boots. He'd stand there all day and chip away at the thing if it meant destroying something Fe had created. "If we had a real snowball fight, you'd never stand a chance."

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Felicia Fletwock

Fe was doing Just Fine Keeping Her Cool until Dax said the thing about being a cheater. That was when she slung the slushball straight into his smarmy-snark face.

 

Calling a Fletwock a cheater was just about the most insulting thing a person could do, to anyone, anywhere, e v e r . Fe’s mum was a bit underhanded, it was true, but in the finding-of-loopholes way, not the doing-things-against-the-rules way. And Felicia was definitely not going to be caught cheating to make herself look better, because, as her dad said, “winning by holding hands with Deception is not winning at all.”

 

(Her parents were all about the idioms.)

 

“I don’t cheat,” she shouted, mittened-hands cleaned into fists. “And there’s more where that came from if you don’t stop kicking right now.

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Dax Gordon

Maybe Dax would have gotten bored. Definitely he would have given up in the near future to go do something else, something better, than waste his time breathing a Not Real Girl's air. Either way, being accosted by slush that probably had all kinds of dirt in it that would totally ruin his hair changed his plans, like, 100 percent.

 

Felicia's parents might be well-versed in idioms, but Dax's parents were well-versed in things like "Kick someone in the face if they're a jerk" and "Never let someone beat you at anything ever" which weren't nearly as eloquent but definitely gave them more points in the parenting department. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to lift his leg high enough to kick Fe in the face with the double layers of jeans he'd decided on, but he was sure that she was going to rue the day that she decided to get on Dax Gordon's bad side.

 

"You obviously cheat," he prodded, pretended that it didn't bother him that he had to wipe frozen water off of his frozen face with his frozen fingers. "No mere female could even come close to building anything even sort of nice. Not that this is nice, or whatever." And he did stop his kicking, just long enough to take two numb steps back, digging his feet through the snow to carve out a nice path. He paused just long enough to give her the biggest smile he could muster before taking a running leap at the fort shoulder first for maximum impact. 

 

Rue the day.

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Felicia Fletwock

If Fe were to draw up a list of everything that was wrong with Dax Gordon, it would be so long it would wrap around Hogwarts ten times. It would reach to the moon and strangle a star. It would be a flying carpet long enough to seat a thousand.

 

And it still wouldn’t be finished, there was just that much wrong with Dax.

 

Hunkered down behind her snow fort (which was, she hoped, slowly freezing into a huge chunk of igloo-ice so when Dax kicked it his toes would stub), Fe huffed and grumped and wanted to interject with how, AGAIN, she didn’t cheat, how females were not “mere,” and how he had backhandedly called her fort nice.

 

But she didn’t get the chance.

 

Because Dax was backing up.

 

Dax was leaving. Ha! Victory!

 

 

Wait.

 

Dax wasn’t leaving. Dax was winding up.

 

“WHAT THE HELL—” The remainder of Fe’s colorful curses was lost beneath a smother of snow as Dax Gordron came down on her fortress and her fortress came down on her. Everything was icy and blue-white; the redhead couldn’t breathe; she was getting m a d. She found the collar of the Slytherin’s coat somehow and yanked, tugged, pulled him down into the mayhem, intending to smash his stupid smile in, mitten hardened by frozen runoff, but found her elbow pinned tight to her side, and her legs curled up tight against Dax’s, and her shoulders immobilized.

 

The fort had become a cold coffin.

 

e40692.png

 

“I hate you sooooo much.”

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Dax Gordon

Perhaps, if Dax had taken a moment to think about things such as balance and gravity and a bunch of those other useless things his mom kept telling him were important things to know about if he ever wanted to stay out of an avalanche of snow with a she-devil, then things might have turned out differently and he'd have avoided the weirdly specific thing his mom warned him about. Perhaps, if he didn't harbor a strange ball of pre-pubescent feelings for Fe Fletwock 

 

(most very bad feelings, he was pretty sure, but maybe not all of them?)

 

he'd have left the situation as it was after tormenting her for long enough and he'd be able to feel any bit of his skin instead being locked in an ice cube. Perhaps, if he'd chosen to mess with someone who was a bit less psycho than this red-headed harpy, he'd live to see tomorrow.

 

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

 

"I can't believe you've done this," Dax managed to choke out around the large drift that had fallen in and around his mouth eyes ears nose. "You idiot." And he could tell that there were limbs by his that weren't his and, following the logic, that they belonged to Fe and were absolutely ripe for a Charley horse by his burning fists, but. Alas. 

 

He could move some of his toes and one of his wrists and was able to dig a knee into her side with as much force as he could muster in what would be his final resting place. "You horrible, horrible girl. You absolute psychopath." There was no rhyme for the stream of insults that became increasingly un-pg as the seconds passed and Dax's frustration grew. "You worthless witch, I can't believe you've killed us both. You've done it, I hope you're so happy, I hope that your final moments with me are filled with such joy at being a hellish murderer." No one would ever even know. They'd be stuck and frozen forever and no one would be able to see his beautiful face ever again. 

 

Felicia Fletwock was truly a monster.

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