Absolutely Normal Disasters

Jane Wallace was never as gorgeous as the people she surrounded herself with. A wealthy Manhattan socialite, she partied with her closest friends, the Dexter-Jones sisters. She had spent numerous summers with them and had grown especially close with Paris.

Jane was a lanky brunette with big feet ("Thank god for custom sizing at Versace!" she said), and strange blue highlights in her hair ("It was all Paris's doing! I swear!"). She was, as her Aunt Margaret dotingly called her, a "black and blue beanpole."

Newspapers loved to call her "One of New York's Best Kept Secrets" for she was one of the few "virginal" party girls out there. Magazines never attacked her for anything. They wanted wild and crazy. And that she wasn't. Of course, there was a little secret sitting right in front of them...

"MAGGIE!!!" Jane yelled, "WHERE IS MY GODDAMN TRUNK!?"

"Language, Janie. It's in the study."

Stomping off in her stilettos, she yelled down the hall, "IT WOULD HAVE HELPED IF SOMEONE INFORMED ME YESTERDAY!"

Suddenly, her supermodel aunt appeared behind her. "Please don't start acting like five-year-old Paris. It's truly unbecoming. Oh, and you'll break those heels in an instant."

Jane flinched. "Maggie, I loathe it when you apparate like that. And if you weren't so tall, you'd be marching around in three inch heels too!"

The bronzed blond patted her head. That temper obviously came from her sister, Jane's mother. She knew how to handle it. "You're five feet and four inches, doll. You don't need much height for now. Wait until you're in your twenties. THEN we can decide."

Jane shrugged on her baby pink jacket with the white checks as the train became cooler. She sat in her usual booth, sulking about another year without access to any good shopping or plays. No Paris, no parties, no drinking, no sporadic jetting to exotic countries. Oh, how she wanted to be in New York again!

"Hello, Walking Stick, "a dull voice at the door, said.

"Hello, Smelly Git, "she replied with a grin, pulling Draco Malfoy into a large embrace, almost choking him, "How was Bulgaria?"

"Dull as History of Magic... if possible."

She giggled pulling him into the seat next to her. (The little FLIRT.)

He ruffled her newly dyed hair- red and orange highlights for this year. "Hmmph. Another? Why can't you be like that Tonks person?"

"Please. I'm not that special a witch."

He shook his platinum blond head, standing up. "Alas, my love. I must torture Potter and Company." She gave him a glare to match his usual expression. "Look, I know you're a Gryffindor, but can't a lad have a bit of fun with his new prefect position? You loathe Granger anyway..."

"Yes, but Ron's my friend too! I mean, my mother and father met Mr. and Mrs. Weasley years back when they were on a book tour! He's like my brother!"

She stuck out her bottom lip in a babyish pout, but Draco stood up, giving her his reserved wink and sauntered away. Jane sighed, leaning into the cushy velvet seat. She flirted (especially with him) like there was no tomorrow, but Malfoy never gave into it.

She sat up upon hearing a scream.

"MALFOY!"

The brunette smiled, realizing that it was the Granger-girl's scream, and stood up to see what was going on. Draco smirked as he passed her in the passageway, ruffling her hair.

"Come to gloat, Wallace?" Hermione spat, dripping with smelly goo from Neville Longbottom's plant.

"About what, Granger?" she replied with the same mean tone the frizzy- haired girl had used.

"If you must know, Malfoy did something to the plant to make it EXPLODE on all of us!"

"Oh, what a shame... need some help, Ron?"

Hermione shot a glare at the redheaded boy, who shrugged sheepishly in response. "Yeah, I accidentally locked my wand up in my trunk. Could I borrow yours?"

Jane happily whipped hers out from the inside her sleeve, watching as Hermione was fuming at the way Ron was being so nice to her. Jealous, much?

"Nice to see you again, Ron. You too, Gin. Sorry I couldn't make it there last summer. Would you believe me if I told you that I was given the opportunity to follow a Muggle band with Paris, you know, my friend?"

"Sit down next to me, Janie!" Ginny said, oblivious to the angry prefect. "I want to her all about it!"

"I don't believe this," Hermione thought angrily, watching that girl take a seat between Ginny and Harry "She probably knows how much I like Ron. Maybe to get revenge on me for the time we both tied for high marks in Arithmancy. No... she wouldn't stoop down to that level. Wallace just wants to flaunt around her close relationship with Ron in front of me... that's it. OH. Why am I pining over this??? Ron couldn't care less about my feelings for him, could he?"

Jane finished her ramblings and stood up. "Well, I'll be going." The brunette nodded at everyone in the car. "See you all later!"

She quickly shut the door to her compartment) and pulled out a piece of parchment.

"Dearest, Darlingest Paris,

I've only been on the train for half an hour and Hermione's already snappish. And what did I do? I talk to Ron. God, does she see me as some threat? It's so totally obvious that he likes her. But, me being me, I HAD to just put those flirting abilities you've installed into gear.

Oh, what the press doesn't know about their Manhattan darling. I'm such a bitch to Hermione. It's horrible. But, it's not like she's the greatest person to me either.

And, Draco is still not getting it. Even if I've been dropping, oh, FIFTY hints. But, what do I know? I'm a girl. Girls don't get guys. They just don't! Well, you may, but I DON'T.

I can see you know, screaming, "STOP SENDING ALL YOUR BOARDING SCHOOL DRAMA!!" Or maybe you aren't, you being the love or soap operas and all that jazz.

Oh well, pastries call me.

Love,

Janie"