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I believe it was your order to complete two hundred bleacher suicides, and I've only done one hundred and seventy two. Maybe next time you should reconsider being such an asshole? A strangled yelp escaped my lips as his arms suddenly encircled my waist, pulling me up and over his shoulder like an old sack of potatoes.

I may or may not use it kind of often. My eyes flashed at the response — oi. Feeling considerably underappreciated — I was really bloody good, damnit! I always did this: It was a stupid process that accomplished nothing, but dealing with Wood just drove me so far up the bloody wall that in the moment, I never cared. D'ya mind grabbing me a cup of coffee on your way to practice tomorrow morning, though? Hell if I was showing up for practice tomorrow. If it came down to it, I'd make that self-centered git beg.

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Face hard with newfound determination, I glared at the broad muscles on his back in silence for the remainder of the way, thankful that the locker rooms were so close. Or at least I was, until he let his arms go slack without so much as a warning when he reached the door, sending me tumbling backward in a graceless attempt to maintain my balance. That doesn't mean 6: He rolled his eyes, bored and unamused. I arched a brow, getting more and more committed to the idea of actually going through with it with every word he said.

I set my jaw, eyes taking on a cool, hard expression that matched my intensifying resolve. Hell if I was showing up. I'll be the girl snuggled in my warm, fluffy bed, thanks.

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I shivered as I entered the cold, drafty locker room, peeling off the sweaty layers of my Quidditch kit a bit reluctantly. Flinging off my muddy sports bra - Jesus, how did that much even get in there? A low hiss of breath escaped my lips as the burning water scorched my skin, dissipating the layers of grime and mud clinging onto it. I poured a fistful of shampoo onto my palm and attacked the dark, tangled mess of curls on my head with it. This was one of my favorite parts of Quidditch. The hot water, the raw skin, the dull ache humming in my muscles.

Here in my state of absolute exhaustion I could think about things, reason out my irrational impulses in a state of tired calmness. McGonagall had blown up at me earlier that day for some reason or other — I vaguely recall accidentally lighting something on fire? It wasn't entirely my fault, though: I rolled my eyes at the mere thought of those two, an inevitable grin creeping up the corners of my lips.

Never a dull moment with the twins around. We'd been friends since Quidditch tryouts they'd charmed my broom to shoot out sparkles , though over the years, I'd certainly grown to know George better than Fred. There was just something about George that was easier for me to get along with.

He was a lot less attention-hungry than his brother, more Both of them were constantly thrust into the spotlight due to their wicked humor and agreeable presence, but George seemed perfectly at ease with sharing the glory with others. He was a surprisingly good listener, and despite the absurd number of detentions he racked up daily, he was rather good at giving advice. While Fred was good for bloody phenomenal entertainment, I couldn't really find anything else besides our constant joking to bring us past casual friends.

Still, as close as I am with George, I'd probably jump off the Astronomy Tower if he was the only person I could ever confide in. The Weasleys along with Lee Jordan are a riot, but those blokes would make any girl go insane after a while — they were just so testosterone-happy. For feminine matters of the heart and everything else under the sun, I had a whole PMS-filled circle of nutso females that I wouldn't trade for the entire bloody world. When I first met her back on the Hogwarts Express, I immediately coined her for the shy, quiet type, and I wasn't that far off at first.

While I talked and bonded with the other girls in our dorm pretty quickly, she remained timidly sweet and likable — oh, what a bloody shock it was when she finally let loose. The girl is genuinely insane around people she's comfortable with, and I don't think I've ever met anyone I just genuinely like everything about outside of Kats.

She's the sweetest, loveliest whack job you'll ever meet, and I don't think it's possible for anyone not to like her. Jesus, that girl is authoritative, but in that responsible, leader-like way that means she's just looking out for you. She's the mother hen of our dorm mates, the sharp-minded, logical one who knows what rules are worth breaking and what risks aren't worth taking.

However, you slip her a firewhiskey or two and the transformation is almost too hysterical for words — the Prefect can't handle her alcohol well. Last but not least, Alicia Spinnet — most beautiful psycho you will ever meet in your life. The bint is stunning. Seriously, she's like celebrity levels of gorgeous, but she's also the weirdest person I know.

And most unintentionally hilarious. You either love her or you hate her: We actually couldn't stand each other at first, and it was through Angelina that we finally decided to set aside our prejudices and get to know each other. Thank God, because ever since then, we've been inseparable, and I really can't imagine life without Alicia around to make it mental. I closed my eyes and groaned, wishing that I could stay under the steady stream of scalding water forever instead of facing the frigid air awaiting me.

I made sure to take my sweet time before finally reaching back and shutting off the showerhead, grabbing a ratty towel from a nearby hook, and wrapping it around my dripping frame.

My skin instantly erupted in goosebumps as the cold air of the locker room brushed over it, and it hastened my pace as I threw on some clothes. He was leaning against the wooden goalpost, arms crossed and brows arched. His face was thrust in shadow from the dimming sky, darkness pooling in the hollows below his cheekbones, and my lips twitched in annoyance at the inadvertent elegance of it all. I sighed, rolling my eyes yet again as I began to trudge away through the mud. We bickered somewhat pointlessly as we made our way over to the double doors of the Great Hall, the warmth of the room emanating from the cracks and the windows.

I scoffed at something particularly arrogant he said as I pushed the door open, and a welcome rush of heat smacked against my shivering body. Only a few scattered people were sitting, indicating that there was still some time to dry up by the common room fire before dinner. I hurried my way up to the Gryffindor tower, my calves protesting loudly with every set of stairs I had to ascend, and by the time I'd arrived at the portrait hole, lactic acid was seeping from my each and ever muscle, a delayed reaction to all the rigorous training I'd undergone today.

The fire was roaring high and mightily in the common room, outlining the scattered students lounging about in a bright silhouette, and despite my urge to collapse by the fire and take a nap right there, I forced myself up the stairs to the sixth year dorms. Shoving the door open without so much as a 'hey, guys! No one said anything, accustomed to my post-practice dramatics, and after a moment, I lifted my head and glanced about the rather messy room. Katie was bundled up in the thick, Snoopy blanket that she brought with her every year, munching on a chocolate frog and ravishing some classic novel.

Her light brown hair, inevitably straight and shiny, hung loose around her shoulders, released from its usual plaited style. Alicia was strewn languidly across her bed, curls shoved up into a pretty bun, absently perusing some muggle magazine. She had her thick-rimmed reading glasses on, and her head was bopping around to whatever obscure death metal rock was probably playing in her head. Angelina was most likely the one in the bathroom, showering herself to her usual, orderly perfection.

The girl was a complete organization-freak — her neat bed stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of chaos that surrounded it. At this, Alicia glanced up as well, her face contorting into a grimace at my appearance. I ignored the comment, letting my head collapse back down into my soft bed and reveling in the warmth and comfort of my pillow. I nodded stiffly into my pillow, too exhausted to really let myself get worked up all over again.

I'd already pitched quite a fit when he'd commanded me to do them in the first place, and now I was just glad to be done with them. I glanced over to the bathroom, my eyes landing on a very clean and pretty-looking Angelina. Her long hair was gathered into a series of tiny braids, and her uniform was neatly pressed and well-fitting on her tall, athletic physique. Can you predict this? I rolled my eyes to the back of my skull as the two began to squabble aimlessly, craving the peace and tranquility that I had walked into.

Angelina snorted in agreement as Katie checked her wristwatch, eyeing the hands for a moment. Walking back to her car, Emma frowned and furrowed her brow. Something was tugging at her, a feeling that Regina was hiding something. Henry didn't want to go home. He was convinced Regina was the Evil Queen and something about the way the Mayor had presented herself, quick to dismiss the blonde after welcoming her into her home, had Emma second guessing Regina's intentions. After Emma got comfortable in her car and turned over the engine, she braced the steering wheel and contemplated her next move.

Ultimately, she knew she was going to drive back to Boston, but she'd spent ample time in her car with Henry babbling on and on about fairytales in Storybrooke. As much as it intrigued her to listen to her offspring, to know how the kid she gave up turned out to be as a person, she was a loner. She didn't have anyone to listen to during the day and she didn't have people to listen to her. Being with Henry for a little over four hours was a bit overwhelming. She took a deep breath and released it in a sigh before she pushed her foot on the brake and put the car into drive.

She headed back the way she came for a few miles before she started to feel woozy. She took her eyes off the road for a few seconds and noticed the book titled Once Upon a Time in the passenger's seat. Her eyes went wide when she saw a wolf standing completely still in the middle of the lane. It stared back at her, not scared to be hit as it stood it's ground on the concrete.

Emma gasped and veered off road as she slammed down on the brake and turned the wheel at least ninety degrees to the left. She burned rubber and left skid marks on the road as she spun her car around one hundred eighty degrees, facing town instead of the city limits. Thankfully, she hadn't hit anything. Not the wolf, the trees, and not the dip in the grass lining the shoulder of the road leading into the woods. She took several erratic breaths as her knuckles went white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

She took bigger breaths when she could, her eyes wide open in shock, and slowed her breathing until she lowered her racing heart rate. She looked around the road and noticed the wolf was gone. There was no blood and no body so she assumed it had ran away. She eased her foot off the brake and let the car cruise forward at less than five miles per hour. After half a mile of getting herself together, she lightly pressed on the gas and headed back into town going no more than twenty miles per hour. She had nowhere to stay and only so much money left that she needed for gas to get her back to Boston.

She searched the town for a decent street she felt comfortable with and parked her car a little down the way from a place called Granny's Bed and Breakfast. She got out of the car and manually unlocked the trunk with her keys. She grabbed a red, black, and white plaid blanket she stashed away every winter in case her car broke down in the middle of nowhere on a chilly night. She also packed a survival kit, a decent sized cooler filled with a few granola bars and six bottles of water because she didn't want to take any chances.

She also had two flares, a large flashlight, and a pack of AA batteries. If her car gave out at any given time from that point on, it wouldn't be the first time it would've stranded her in an unfamiliar place far from a gas station in the dead of winter in a city known for experiencing serious snow storms. She grabbed the cooler and flashlight as well as the blanket before she locked up the trunk and got into the backseat. She set the cooler on the floor behind the passenger's seat and unfolded the blanket to cover her legs. She reached into the glove compartment and grabbed her hat before trying to completely wrap herself up in the blanket.

She slipped on the hat and pulled it over her ears then zipped up her red leather jacket over her chest and let the zipper rest less than an inch from her neck to trap in as much warmth as she could without pushing the zipper into her throat when she laid down. She pulled the blanket over the upper half of her body and allowed the wool to drape over her shoulder before she rested her head on the backseat on the passenger's side. She curled into a ball as much as she could without her knees outweighing the rest of her body and cause her to fall from the backseat onto the car floor.

As the night went on, the temperature dropped and Emma bundled up as best she could to evenly distribute the blanket around her while she slept. The closer morning became, the more she looked like a caterpillar wrapped tightly in its cocoon. Even as the sun rose and the townspeople started to rejoice as the clock struck seven thirty, Emma didn't wake.

She looked peaceful though her nose was pink and her fists were balled around the blanket as she clung to it for dear life. With a smile on her face, a black haired woman with a pixie haircut stared at the city clock in the center of town.

As she approached Granny's diner, she noticed the out of place yellow car parked in the street. Her smile turned into a look of confusion as she quickened her pace toward the vehicle. She slowed to a stop as she squinted and looked into the backseat, the first window she saw. She saw a bulky figure with loose, blonde curls splayed across the backseat. She wasn't sure what to do since she'd never seen the car or the person in it before, but didn't want the woman to freeze.

The short haired woman knocked on the window and caused the blonde to stir then jump up in fear before she even had the chance to turn around and see the person that had knocked.


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Emma relaxed her shoulders then slowly turned her body at the waist to see the small bodied and fair skinned woman standing outside her car door. The strange woman staring at her politely yet awkwardly smiled as she waved at Emma.

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Emma sighed and lurched forward to open the door. She pried the lock up with her index finger and thumb then pulled the door handle in her direction. She only pushed the door open less than an inch to give the other woman time to move out of the way. Once the door was completely open, Emma threw the blanket off of her and maneuvered her feet onto the ground from the opposite side of the interior. And you're right outside of Granny's diner. She's got great food.

You should try some. No, Emma, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to be rude. We don't get a lot of people from out of town. Actually, we never have people visit from out of town. I'm not a morning person and I spent last night taking my kid back to Regina's house, which was awkward enough without her oddball characteristics of inviting me in for a drink and then nearly tossing me onto the street the second I said I should go. I'm his birth mother. I mean, clearly I'm not the one who raised him. You should know that. Henry's mentioned you several times almost immediately after I gave him that book of fairytales.

And nearly every day for the last three weeks Henry's told me about you. Your name, your age, your hair color and height. It was always just a little more information every day. I guess he finally found you. He took the bus to get to me in the first place. What kind of ten year old has money for the bus when his mom didn't even know he was gone? He must've taken it from my wallet during class yesterday. Regina may have raised him, but the kid's definitely got some of my behavioral traits.

I'd hate to hear about you getting into an accident for falling asleep at the wheel when I could've done something to help. Emma paused and held her breath as she thought it over, her near accident last night enough to convince her. She released it in a heavy sigh before she answered. Mary Margaret smiled back as she led Emma to a stool at the counter and the two of them took their seats.

I'll take some french toast and a cup of hot chocolate, extra whipped cream and-". I know it sounds weird, but it's just one of my little quirks.

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And it tastes delicious," Mary Margaret replied. Hi," Ruby redirected her attention at Emma, excited to see a new face. That's too bad, but Mary Margaret was right to drag you in here. Anyway, your order will be ready in about ten minutes, okay? Mary Margaret furrowed her brow as she tried to understand what Emma really meant by her statement. When the realization came to her, her jaw dropped.

Not that I'd have a problem with two women being together. It's just that everyone here is really close. Well, I think that's great, but I'm not really a warm and fuzzy, get close to people type anyway. I wouldn't really know how to describe her," Mary Margaret went from being in a good mood to looking shy and slightly frightened. You're Henry's teacher, right? You'd know if there was anything wrong at home, wouldn't you? She's a little controlling of his diet and what he does after school, but-". She does it for his benefit. She doesn't allow much sweets if any at all.

I really think she cares about him a-and she wouldn't do anything to hurt him, but He seems to be around her place a lot now, but before him it was Sidney Glass, a reporter for the Storybrooke Gazette. And I think there was a guy before him that she was with a lot of the time after work, but I couldn't be sure. Graham's been with her the last three months. Honestly, it seems serious, but Graham's a good guy so if you're worried the men in Regina's life wouldn't give a damn about Henry and his needs, Graham isn't like that.

He likes Henry and often checks up on him for Regina when she can't. Henry will be fine and everyone in this town adores him so we all look out for him too. We look out for each other, really. You could stay in town for at least a week to keep an eye on him if you wanted. Regina'd probably have my head and I don't know if I've got enough to afford Granny's. You can stay with me free of charge. I've got an extra bed. The apartment is a little small, but it's enough for me and I'm sure an extra person around wouldn't cut down the space too much. Emma turned around as Mary Margaret looked to her left and the two of them stared up at the Sheriff, confused and a little weary about what he might have heard.

The work around here might be a little slow at times so it almost seems unnecessary to have one, but I could use a deputy. Someone I can trust to handle things when I'm otherwise engaged or just someone to get lunch for us, watch people in the drunk tank when I go on break. If you're interested, I'd be happy to give you the job. You can prove your credibility later tonight if you'd like. Stop by the station and I'll test your skills. On Graham's way out, he nearly bumped into Regina as she made her way to the counter.

She eyed Emma as though she wanted to shoot daggers at the blonde with a single glare, not sure what exactly she'd overheard. Regina tightened her jaw as she watched Graham walk away from her like he'd done nothing wrong and stared down Emma as she approached the younger woman. Children can get easily attached to people and I'd hate for Henry to think you'll be around.

It would surely devastate him. And I'm sure you're missing a lot of work where you're from. I track people down that miss their court date and don't pay back their bail money. I don't need to be in an office let alone clock in. I get paid for delivery and usually somebody calls me when I need to hit the pavement. Regina refused to sit down but stood next to Emma as the blonde sat at the counter, Mary Margaret the farthest from her as she sat on Emma's right side.

She ordered her usual from Ruby and gave several sideways glances at Emma filled with annoyance and aggravation. I will not let you anywhere near my son. I will get some time with Henry if it's the last thing I do.

I run this town, Miss Swan, and I'm sure some of these fine citizens have already informed you I'm not one to be messed with," Regina trained her eyes on Mary Margaret for a moment to call out the black haired woman. I don't respond well to being cornered. I'm just explaining the severity of the situation if you think of crossing me.

I want you to know what you're getting yourself into. I don't need your warning. You'll be out of here in no time. You never stay in one place too long. I checked up on you not long after you left my home. Seven addresses in the last ten years. Henry won't have the time to get to know you because you never bother to have any roots. A plant without roots can't grow. Regina spun on her heels and sauntered out the door leaving Emma staring after her with a fixed gaze. She continued to watch Regina get into her Mercedes and drive away from the quaint establishment.

The more the brunette pushed, the more Emma wanted to fight back. No matter Emma's reason for it, she wanted to stay more with every breath she spent arguing with Regina and by then she was determined to stay. Just In All Stories: Story Story Writer Forum Community. Not too long after Emma Swan arrives in Storybrooke, she finds herself in a constant battle with Mayor Regina Mills and it's not just about their son Henry.

While fighting for dominance, the two of them retaliate against each other by any means necessary to assert their power over the other. You're it," Emma said as she pushed closed the door and leaned in next to him, cocky. The man hissed and clenched his jaw as he pocketed his keys. What'd the guy do this time to score you so much dough? She stuck a blue star candle into the cupcake and lit it. Suddenly, she heard the doorbell. She looked down and furrowed her brow at the brown haired boy that stood at her door.

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Are you Emma Swan? Regina's jaw dropped as her eyes widened with a flicker of hope. She ran to the door in her black heels and rushed to open it.