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Arabella Jones

We spoke about no sleep and life in our heads

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Arabella Jones

”You should wear sheer shirts,” Arabella said, tapping her chin as she rummaged through the bag she had brought upstairs with her. Despite the almost nonexistent contact between her and Barry, she was still allowed to use their money however she wanted to. That had allowed her to send in an extra order the minute Chuck had mumbled something about clothes to her. It had all taken less than a week, and now they were here.

 

She held up a black shirt, watching as the thin material allowed her to see Chuck’s morose face through the fabric. He had been reluctant about the entire process, but even so, he had been the one to approach her, and Arabella was nothing if not a good friend. “I can find something else,” she said, lowering it, even as she realised she should have come up with a better catalogue for her friend than this. She pursed her lips, and pulled out a pair of flared pants, before quickly dismissing them.

 

It was difficult, and she knew that. If it hadn’t been for Molly, accepting the fact that she was gay would have taken years and years, going even beyond Hogwarts. Her eccentricities — maybe one day she would stop wearing all black — had been welcomed by someone she thought the world of, someone she realised she was actually in love with — but Chuck had none of that. He only had Arabella, and she already felt bad for him.

 

”We could start with a dress,” she concluded, and grinned wide, pulling at the supple material of her own. At this point, even if they switched outfits with each other, no one would be the wiser.

Edited by Arabella Jones

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Chuck Berger

Chuck never regretted anything as much as seeking Arabella’s help with clothes. 

 

The fifteen year old Gryffindor stared at the bag with distrust and distaste, his facial expression as if trying to discern what horrible smell was assaulting his nose. Arabella was so cool, most of the time, that he had forgotten her parents were loaded. Rich girls’ fashion senses were a beast of their own, far too fancy and extravagant for a poor ruffian like himself. Outside of his house uniforms, Chuck possessed maybe ten wearable casual tee shirts, two decent pair of jeans, two pair of trainers and an old but nice enough pair of work boots. His family was never able to afford him much and with the help of house elf magic, the small amount of clothes were constantly cleaned. 

 

But Chuck was fifteen now, his sixteenth birthday soon approaching. Despite his handsome face and athletic body, he felt like the only teenager at Hogwarts to have never been kissed and enjoyed it. Although it took years, he finally felt comfortable enough with his homosexuality to want to kiss boys… But for whatever reason, no had ever wanted to kiss him. 

 

Not boys at least. There were plenty of girls he tried using as beards over the years. They didn't really count. 

 

He figured that it might have been his 'normal guy' sense of fashion. Bella loved crap like that. He figured she'd be able to help...

 

“Sheer shirts? Get that crap the flack out of here.” Chuck glared, crossing his arms against his chest. He wasn’t willing to go that far. “When I asked for your help, I thought you’d get me some preppy button downs. Maybe a cardigan?” His muggle friends back home would give him a hard time for even wearing an Oxford. They’d pummel him if they caught him in a sheer shirt. 

 

Arabella may be giggling at the thought of him in the dress but that’d basically be a death warrant back home. 

 

“Real funny. Ha ha ha.” Chuck deadpanned but eyed the dress’ soft material, a brief expression of curiosity crossing his face. He’d seen some boys back home wearing girly stuff like dresses or skirts, even make up, but didn’t really understand why. He quickly squashed his curiosity and scowled for good measure. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You got anything in that bag though I could actually wear out without being a laughingstock?"

Edited by Chuck Berger

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Arabella Jones

She was endlessly amused by Chuck’s reaction to what she was offering.

 

“I could do that,” she replied, a grin high on her face. “I’m sure Cas has some cardigans that he would be more than willing to share with you.” It was a lie, of course: it was a bizarre series of events that had brought her to the point where Arabella was currently best friends with two boys that hated each other. She had tried to stay out of it, and @Casper Abernathy had complained about it over and over again, but Arabella was a snake, and she had chosen to save herself and selfishly hold both friendships close to her chest.

 

This would eventually grow into a problem.

 

She rummaged through the bags, but her eyes stayed on her friend. She knew how much Chuck had struggled with accepting the fact that he was gay — far worse than even Arabella, perhaps, with her father constantly breathing down her neck — and it filled her with a deep sadness when she realised how bad things still were for him. Arabella knew her only saving grace had been @Molly Stone, and the minute that thread broke, she would be right back where she had been before, struggling to come up for air, not knowing where to turn now that she had burnt all her boats.

 

”You won’t be a laughing stock,” she said, quietly, a frown turning the previous humour on her face, sour. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Chuck.” She tried to keep the tone of offence out of her voice. It wasn’t like he was trying to directly attack anyone that dressed up differently from what they were supposed to — she knew exactly what Chuck was trying to do, but it still made her heart sink.

 

She sighed, then, abandoning the fidgeting for the moment. “Did I ever tell you about when I first came out to...dad?” She asked, hesitatingly, both at asserting Barry Jones as her father, and at opening up about something that she hadn’t mentioned to anyone, not even Molly.

Edited by Arabella Jones

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