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Format: Novel
Chapters: 27
Word Count: 111,382
Status: WIP
Rating: 15+
Warnings: Strong Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme
Genres: Drama, Humor, Romance
Characters: Fred, George, Oliver, OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Other Pairing
First Published: 06/25/2009
Last Chapter: 12/29/2012
Last Updated: 12/29/2012
Summary:i sold my soul to justonemorefic@tda♥!
Seventh year is the last chance to find yourself before real-life takes over. Charlotte Murray thought she knew who she was, what she was going to do and how she was going to do it. All it takes is a simple question – and a Quidditch obsessed boy – to make her question her future.
Who are you, Charlotte? And what do you want?
Oliver/OC
Over 28,000 reads! Thank you!
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling, therefore I do not own Harry Potter or anything of that sort. Though, anything original solely belongs to me.
A/N: I'm American and we spell words differently, so I'm sorry if it bothers you because I'm too forgetful to go back and change words to British spellings.
Edit 9/5/09: Thank you so much to my beta, AntigoneBlack. :D She's amazing
Chapter One: To be Lonely is a Habit
I never thought I'd have to take such extreme measures, but now I was doing just that. I weaved my way through the crowded hallway, pushing aside Slytherins and Hufflepuffs on their way to Potions. I was nearly sprinting my way towards the library when he jumped out of nowhere.
"Charlotte!" He exclaimed, panting with exhaustion. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Well, now you've found me." I replied, side-stepping him to yank open the library door. "What do you need?" I already knew what he needed, which explained why I was trying to avoid him.
"I need-" He began, but before he could say anything, I had walked into the library. He followed, trailing slightly as I dumped my stuff onto a desk and retreated into the restricted section. "I need-" he started again but I moved into a different row. "Damn it, Charlotte!" He called, stopping and placing both hands on his hips.
I stopped my avoiding and turned to look at him. He looked peeved and somewhat embarrassed; though, I supposed that he always had sort of a cranky look about him.
"I don't want to ask you, but I have to," He started, trying to explain the situation he was in. Of course, I already knew but I relished in his embarrassment.
"Thanks, Wood," I replied, "But, you don't have to do anything you don't want to." I stalked away towards my desk and pulled out my Arithmancy book.
"Charlotte!" He started, frustrated, as he ran a hand through his hair. "I need you to tutor me in Potions."
"Mm," was all that I said as I scanned the chapter I was assigned for homework. I pulled out a piece of parchment, my eagle feather quill and my ink bottle to start the problems when he put his hand over my textbook. "Excuse me, but I need to see the problems."
"This is really hard for me to ask!" He was grumbling as he pulled himself a chair and sat down across from me, his hand still covering the page I needed. "I wouldn't ask you – you know that – unless I was in desperate need of your help."
I stopped fumbling in my book bag and gave him a simple look, "Wood, I'll be frank with you," I said, folding my hands on top of the wooden table, "If you spent half of the time studying that you use writing up Quidditch plays, I'm sure we wouldn't be having this conversation."
His face reddened and his lips thinned dramatically, "S'not like you've watched any of the matches…" Oliver muttered to himself.
I peevishly removed his hand from my textbook, "No, Wood, go find yourself another tutor – a nice, Ravenclaw one will suffice, I think."
Oliver didn't move, he continued to stare at me as though I had sprouted antlers on my head. "Charlotte, asking somebody from Ravenclaw would be treasonous! They're our competition for the cup! They're probably glad that Snape is failing me!"
Ugh. I stared at him, my mind quickly calculating the situation. What makes this any worthwhile for me? Another voice entered the conversation and it sounded oddly like my best friend Alex taunting me, Oh, you know, helping Gryffindor win the Cup doesn't mean anything! I mean, everyone already loves you so much because you're practically a bloody social butterfly! I frowned at this. Clearly, I was going mad if I started arguing with myself over this stupid, stupid, decision. It was obvious what I was going to say, right?
"No." It was firm and I didn't even meet his eyes when I said it. I simply turned my homework page casually and from the corner of my eye, I watched him stomp out of the library. I gleefully applauded myself on avoiding a disaster and peacefully returned to my homework.
"YOU SAID NO?!" Alex was waving her arms around, eyes wide with surprise and her lips turned down in a frown. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SAID NO!" She sat down in a huff, her eyes never leaving my face as I thumbed through the Potions homework with ease.
"What's wrong with me saying no?" I inquired, lifting my eyes for a brief moment to meet hers before turning them back on my essay.
Alex got up again, stalking the entire room before flopping back onto the sofa and staring at me again. "Do you know what this means?" She said finally after a moment of silence.
"That he's going to be dismissed as Captain of the Quidditch Team? Yes, I know what it means." I looked up from my essay and dotted an 'i' furiously. "I don't understand why people think I don't have ears! Yes, they might not pay much attention to me but if you speak in front of me – I can bloody hear!"
"AND YOU STILL SAID NO?" Alex looked absolutely incredulous. "Sometimes, I don't know how you think."
I smirked. "Clearly, seeing as though I've got better grades than you."
She rolled her eyes, "Details, details." Then she rounded on me again, "You've got to change your answer! You've got to help Wood!"
"I don't have the time to help him!" I argued, "It's the bloody year for N.E.W.T's!" I stood up and moved to a table, then I waved my wand and levitated the rest of my books over. They landed neatly by the wall and I continued work on my essay.
Alex rolled her eyes again. It was really a beastly habit. "Yes, because the Professors have honestly allowed us to forget that?" She pointed to her own towering stack of textbooks, "Honestly, they're only giving us homework because they've got nothing better to do right?" She moved to sit across from me; moving her books with her wand and having them land beside mine.
"Ugh, I hate when you use sarcasm back at me." I sent her a glare.
She blew a kiss at me and took out her Transfiguration book before flipping to the chapter she needed. I was shocked for a moment, as she began to do her homework without further complaint. It did not last long, seeing as she was building the silence to badger me about Wood some more. "I just don't understand why…"
"Drop it."
"But, think about it-"
"Drop it."
"It's the Cup, Lotty!"
"Drop it. " I looked up dangerously from my essay and she shut her mouth but not before giving a loud sigh and muttering about how much of a nutter I was.
We worked in silence for more than an hour. People were starting to crowd the common room in preparation for dinner. A girl walked up to our table and cleared her throat. I looked up and she smiled at me. I set down my quill and sent a questioning look at Alex, who was scratching the end of her nose and staring down at the essay before scratching something out.
The girl introduced herself as Katie Bell, a chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. "It would be amazing if you could truly help Oliver out," She pleaded, "This is his last year as Captain and we really want to win it for him."
"You won last year," I asserted, "Shouldn't he be satisfied with what he has, instead of being greedy and always wanting more?"
Katie's pale face pinked slightly as she narrowed her eyes at me, "How can one succeed if one never sets his goals higher than what he has already accomplished?" She looked as if I had talked about supporting Slytherin during the actual matches. If, you know, I actually gave two-wits for Quidditch.
"True," I paused, "But if he wants to sets his goals higher, he should learn how to manage Quidditch and complete his Potions homework."
She just let out a sigh, "This is important to him – this is important to the entire team…"
"It's important to the entire house." Alex replied as she was scratching away the conclusion in her essay. "Proofread this for me later, will you?" She blew on the ink to dry before rolling it up and handing it to me.
"Basically," I eyed Katie Bell, "You want me to help Oliver purely out of compassion for the entire Gryffindor house?" She nodded, glad that I had grasped such a concept so beautifully, "I suppose your plan would've worked if I cared whether or not the entire house liked me or not."
With a frown, she stalked away towards her friends and Alex raised an eyebrow suspiciously, "I think I might've seen a hint of Slytherin in you." I looked up and caught a cold stare from Katie's entourage.
"Or maybe I just don't care about them?"
"Maybe it shouldn't always be about your future." Alex shrugged nonchalantly, "I mean, I know you don't give a rat's arse about what they think about you – but, I mean, doesn't a little part of you want to be accepted by the rest of our house? Don't you get sick of having only me as a friend?"
"I have friends!" I defended, "I have many friends…" Alex gave me another look, "…just because they're in the shape of books, doesn't mean they're any less…" She continued with the look and I scowled, "Fine, you're my only friend…" She looked satisfied, "You're the only friend that I need."
"There's really no need to fluff my ego," Alex grinned, "Really, though, Lotty," She continued, not fazed by compliments at all, "You've been here for seven years and I'm the only friend you've managed to make? Don't you find that just a little sad?"
"That isn't the point," I wriggled uncomfortably in my chair, "The point is that I don't want to tutor Oliver Wood and that's final."
"Why?" Alex persisted, "He's a decent bloke-"
"He's actually not." I said quietly, glancing up from the desk, "He's always been an arrogant prick. He doesn't care about anyone else as long as he gets to play his Quidditch." She didn't say anything but let me continue, "First year, you know what he did to me? We were being taught how to fly and I just didn't grasp to concept of flying very well. He said that I was 'holding the rest of the class back' from learning how to fly because Hooch kept coming over to keep me from falling off…" I sighed, "I hate flying."
"That's it? He insulted you?"
I rolled my eyes, "You do know that he came over afterwards and called me a baby for being scared of flying and then shoved me off my broom, right?"
"That's not uncalled for at all…"
"Thank you, I always knew you were a quick one…"
Alex let out a low chortle, "I bet all he wanted to do was play Quidditch and fly about, I mean, that was first year – I'm sure he's changed since then. I mean, haven't you?" Then she shook her head, "Never mind, you haven't changed a bit. You're exactly the same as I remember you."
At this, I felt a sudden churning in my stomach. I couldn't precisely put my finger on it, but I was sure that I was annoyed by this statement. I must've made a peevish face because Alex began waving her arms around, trying to console me.
"No! No! That's not what I meant!" She said, shaking her head and her hands furiously, "It's just, well, you've basically remained the same. You act the same way you've always acted! It's a good thing! Really!"
"You don't have to sugar coat it," I responded, even though my stomach still churned with annoyance, "I've stayed exactly the same. I get it. It's fine."
"Don't be like that." Alex said soothingly, "I mean, some people never change."
"People always change." I contradicted, my lips pursing. I then sighed, feeling the churning cease, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need a change." I looked at my pile of textbooks, "I wonder why the Sorting Hat placed me in Gryffindor when everyone knows I belong in Ravenclaw."
"You don't." She said simply, "You're a Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat must know something you don't."
I let out another growl before thumping my head against the table a couple times. Not exactly a smart move, you know, killing brain cells and all, but I felt that it had to be done.
"Maybe," Alex said softly, meeting my eyes when I lifted my forehead up and rubbed it with my right hand, "Maybe this is your chance to make a change!"
"Oh, no." I began shaking my head, "You're not serious? Oh, damn, you are serious!" I let out another groan before letting my forehead fall back upon the table with a loud, "Ouch!"
"I am damn serious!" Alex said, "Tutor Oliver, the whole house will love you and you'll be able to change! You can break out from your shell and finally become a butterfly!"
"Thank you for the implication that I am a bloody worm."
"Caterpillar," She corrected.
"Same bloody thing."
Alex laughed, "You just said 'bloody' two times in a row."
I scowled.
"Tutor him." She insisted, "Do it. You know you want to. You know you're not Slytherin at all on the inside but instead, a fluffy, happy, cheerful Hufflepuff!"
I let out a loud groan.
"Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!" She began chanting and soon the mantra was stuck in my head. I stared at the floor, weighing the pros and cons of the situation as her words continued floating through my brain.
"FINE!" I yelped after her chanting began to grow obnoxious, "OKAY. I'LL DO IT. I'LL TUTOR STUPID WOOD!" I collapsed onto the desk after my explosion. Of course, it's not like any explosion of mine would've startled the common room – they were too busy being louder than me.
Alex just grinned and wisely said nothing.
Dinner was normal. People greeted Alex but ignored me – the Quidditch team shunned me more coldly than usual. I suspected Katie had told them exactly what I had told her and they weren't pleased. However, in my own defense, I have to say that they weren't there for my change of heart.
I grumbled, grabbing some chicken as Alex laughed at something one of the Weasley twins said. I, of course, was ignored because: one, the Weasley twins were on the Quidditch team and most probably heard from Katie and Oliver of my refusal to tutor him; and two, they were just accustomed to my silence.
Finishing my meal, I grabbed my bag and told Alex that I was going to the library – I needed somewhere to warm up after all the cold looks I had been getting during the meal. I held my head high as I left but I couldn't help but hear something Alicia Spinnet whispered to Angelina on my way out, "Who knew such a Gryffindor could be so callous to another…"
I literally stomped my way to the library. How dare they! I fumed. It's not like any of them have given me a damn thought over the years! It's not like they would've helped me if I asked! I was again, interrupted by a voice that sounded a lot like Alex's: sometimes, you're so damn self-righteous.
"Snap out of it, Lotty," I whispered to myself, "You can't have gone so loony that you've begun speaking to yourself…" I shook my head and let myself into the library. Picking up my feet, I went over to my favorite table, near the back corner of the library that was hidden completely by shelves.
Maybe they're right… I couldn't help think.
I tried to focus on my homework, but I couldn't; I was utterly distracted. Usually, problems such as these hardly fazed me because I never had to deal with them but now…I really wasn't well equipped for this. I usually had such a thick skin that words seemed to bounce right off but Alicia's remark really hit home.
I thought of Alex and how she would've handled this situation. I rolled my eyes. It was pointless. I already knew what Alex would've done. She would've said 'yes' to helping him because she was always willing to help someone out.
Alex. Alex, who was my best friend since second year; Alex, who had stuck up for me; Alex, who listened to what I say without judgment; Alex, who was constantly there and supportive of what I did.
Alex, who, despite having terrible grades, was funny and popular. She made people feel…good. She said things that were ridiculous but made you laugh. She said things that sometimes, were wiser than anything I had ever read.
I wish I was more like Alex.
Unable to think anymore, I grabbed my bag and left the library. I had to find Wood and tell him that I had changed my mind. I checked the Great Hall, but he had already left so I scoured the hallways. I managed to walk by McGonagall's office when her reedy voice called out my name.
"Miss Murray?"
I came to a halt and backed up a couple steps. I smiled in greeting before realizing that Oliver was standing next to her – he did not look pleased to see me.
"Yes, Professor?"
She motioned for both of us to sit in the two chairs she had conjured up. McGonagall sat at her desk and folded her hands together before saying simply, "Wood tells me that you've refused to tutor him."
"Actually, I-" I started to say.
McGonagall waved off whatever I was going to say with her right hand, "I cannot have Wood dismissed as Captain but I cannot have him fail Potions either," She stared down her nose at me, "You can imagine how limited my options are for such a situation."
"I understand." I said demurely, unsure of what she was saying.
"So, I must ask you," She continued, "Both of you, if you will commit yourselves as true Gryffindors and work together?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow curiously, "For the unity of Gryffindor house?"
"Okay." I said with a shrug, "I'll do it. I'll tutor him."
"Excellent." McGonagall said with as much enthusiasm as she could have mustered. She sent us out without another word. I stuck both hands into my pockets and began to walk towards the common room when Oliver stopped me.
"That was too easy." He said, his eyes scanning my face for some sort of deceit, "You were so sure at the library." He replied, "Why the change of heart?"
I shrugged and continued walking but I stopped and turned, "Oh, Thursday night in the common room. Ten o'clock, and please don't be late." I began walking again but he just stopped me again.
"Why did you change your answer?"
I shrugged, "You can thank the cold responses I got from your Quidditch team." I said this sarcastically and he couldn't help but grin.
"They are quite convincing, aren't they?"
I rolled my eyes. "Just don't be late."
Clearly, I wasn't a seer, because I did not realize how much trouble I was getting myself into and if I had foreseen the disasters that occurred from this exchange – I probably would not have changed my mind, despite constant complaints and badgering from the Quidditch team.
A/N: Reviews&Thoughts would be nice, but if you have to be blunt - be gentle because I'll feel discouraged. This chapter is now beta'd :)
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling, therefore I do not own Harry Potter or anything of that sort. Though, anything original solely belongs to me.
Edit 9/12/09: Thank you so much to my beta, AntigoneBlack!
Chapter Two: Quick Fix & Heartbeats
I was surprised the next morning when I woke up and didn't feel any different. I looked at myself in the mirror, expecting some sort of drastic change to have occurred, but I looked exactly the same. The same tired brown eyes stared back at me with the same dark bags underneath them. My hair was exactly the same shade of auburn it was last night. I hastily brushed my bangs out of my face and pinned them back with a bobby pin. My skin was still somewhat blotchy in certain areas and my overbite was still apparent. I was exactly the same.
I sighed.
Alex gave a soft snore next to me. She was curled up in a ball, her dirty blonde hair fanning over her face as her blankets bunched around her chest.
I took a finger and ran it down the length of my nose, feeling where it was smooth and where there were bumps from exam stress. Shaking my head, I walked towards the bathroom and began brushing my teeth. How could I expect such a dramatic change to take place in merely hours? Change was supposed to take ages upon ages – I just didn't know if I could be patient enough.
My time in the bathroom was interrupted when Angelina Johnson walked in, rubbing her wet hair with a crimson towel. I remained where I was, my toothbrush still in my mouth. There was silence for a bit as I leaned over to rinse out the toothpaste.
Angelina smiled at me, briefly, and said, "Good morning."
I was shocked but manage to cover it with an equally brief smile, "Morning."
She turned to pick up her blue toothbrush and squeezed a small amount of toothpaste on it before placing it into her mouth. I washed my face with medicated face wash before drying it off with a towel. We did not exchange any more words as I left. My heart was hammering away in my chest – I had never expected human contact to be so exhilarating!
When I reached our dormitory again, I saw that Alex was still sleeping but had changed positions. She was now flopped over on her stomach, her arms flailed out over her pillows. I quickly ran a brush through my auburn hair before dressing and grabbing my Potions book.
I nearly collided with another one of my roommates, Claudia Gray, as she came from one of the other bathrooms. She was wearing a black robe and merely glanced at me before stepping into the room.
Claudia Gray and I had been roommates for nearly seven years, and we had never spoken a single word to each other. Each time I saw her, she would look through me with her cool blue eyes before stepping aside. Alex and Claudia had been enemies since First Year when Alex's perfume went missing and was found in Claudia's sock drawer. She still swears to this day that she never took it and she had been framed but Alex never believed a word of it. Their little feud had little to do with me; besides, I wanted to finish reading the Potions chapter before today's lesson. I stepped out of the common room and made my way towards the library.
It was my little routine and Alex half-expected me to be late to breakfast. Though, she didn't exactly know the entire reason why I always rushed into the library before class. You see, there was a Ravenclaw in our year by the name of Drew Foster and well, I might've developed a sort of crush on him in Fourth Year.
Something about him just fascinated me. He wore glasses that always seemed to be right at the tip of his nose and he had a quiet manner. He was pale, blonde, with a sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks. We shared an Arithmancy class together but we had never spoken to each other.
I spotted Drew in his usual corner – engrossed in a book of medieval magic. I slipped into my usual spot as well, where I could sneak looks from the top of my book. He was such a nice-looking fellow, with a calm demeanor and pleasant voice. Drew was also one of my main reasons for never attending a Quidditch match. I had heard him comment at one time or another to one of his friends that he found Quidditch 'utterly barbaric' and that it was nothing better than 'thwacking each other in the shins to prove athleticism'.
About an hour passed and I had approximately looked up from my Potions book seven times before coming to the second to last page. I was about to turn it when a loud voice claimed my attention.
"Lotty!" Alex yelped, looking up and down the bookcases until she found me, "Lotty!"
An absolutely scandalized Madame Pince stalked by and set her beady eye on Alex. I was sure that if looks could kill, Alex would have been dead and buried.
"What are you doing here?" I inquired hotly, "This is my study time!"
Alex just rolled her eyes, "I have something to tell you –" But before she could finish, I involuntarily looked up from my book and gazed at Drew. "Oh," She said softly.
"Oh?" I repeated, offended, "What the hell do you mean by oh?"
She was now gazing at Drew thoughtfully and sat down beside me, "This explains a lot, Lotty."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I maintained, turning the page of my textbook as nonchalantly as I could but Alex just scoffed.
"I don't have a clue what you're playing at, Lotty," She snorted, "It's bloody obvious why you're always in the library now." And then she added in an afterthought, "He is rather cute, isn't he? In a bookish sort of way." Alex grinned at me as my face pinked, "He's perfect for you!"
"You must be joking," I replied, although I couldn't help but perk up a bit.
"Yes, you two can come in to the library and discuss how romantic Transfiguration is," Alex joked, her grin widening as my eyes narrowed, "Or you write love letters to each other – coded with ancient symbols that you've learned in Ancient Runes!"
"You're hilarious," I snapped, "I'm practically rolling on the ground with laughter."
"It's a love found coded in Arithmancy!"
I snapped my Potions book shut as Drew flipped another page, glanced at his watch and stood up. Alex nudged me rather hard in the ribs as he walked by and pushed my Potions book to the ground. With my face flaming, I turned to glare at her but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.
"Is this yours?" Drew was standing before me, his book bag swung over his right shoulder as he handed my Potions book to me. "It just fell."
"Oh," I said, my face reddening at an incredible pace, "T-Thank you."
"You're welcome." He gave a small smile before walking out of the library.
My lips found themselves curling into a returning smile at his retreating back when Alex began laughing rather loudly. I rounded on her and she stood up and put her hands up in a defensive position. "HEY," She called as I advanced on her with my textbook, "IF IT WASN'T FOR ME-"
I chased her out of the library, threatening to beat knowledge into her as Pince floated to the door and called feebly out after us, "No running in the library!"
I chased her all the way to the Gryffindor table and she had decided to sit in the middle, away from most of the crowds. She rubbed her arm with a grimace, "Did you have to hit me that hard?"
I just scoffed, "How does it feel to be beaten with knowledge?"
"Painful," She remarked, "Extremely painful."
Smirking, I filled my goblet with orange juice before helping myself to breakfast. Alex was chewing on a piece of sausage, watching me with intent. Over her head, I could see Drew sitting at the Ravenclaw table with some of his friends.
It amazed me how Drew could balance his massive amount of school work simultaneously with his social life – he sat in the middle of four guys, laughing at some joke while flipping through his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. One of them made a comment and suddenly, four heads turned in our direction. I ducked.
Stopping what she was saying, Alex turned and looked directly at the group. "Why are they staring at us?" She wondered aloud, "But hey, cute-blonde is looking over too." Then, with an air of triumph, she crowed in my ear, "He looks mutinous!"
I ducked even lower, so that my head was inches from the wooden table and Alex continued looking over her shoulder and making little comments like, "Oh, one of his friends is really good looking."
"This is not the time!" I groaned, "Everything was fine – everything has been great for the past three years that I've –"
"Stalked him?" Alex suggest with a raised eyebrow.
I swear she stole that from me. I rolled my eyes.
"I haven't stalked him!" I insisted with emphasis on stalked. Alex just chuckled to herself as I set down my fork and looked past her again. The Ravenclaws were ruffling Drew's hair and patting him on the back. "Hey, Alex," I asked as she looked up from her food.
"Yeah?"
"What were you going to tell me this morning?"
Her blank face disappeared in a second, "Oh! Yeah! I was going to tell you that I saw Claudia Gray chatting up Wood this morning!"
"I saw her this morning too," I replied, telling her of how I had stumbled upon her on my way out, "I can't believe the only person I'm friends with in the entire Seventh Year dormitories is you."
"Yeah, well," Alex shrugged with a wink, "Madison snores when she sleeps and has a funny smell about her, Claudia is a no-good thief who enjoys throwing herself at Quidditch players, Joy is overly excited about everything and literally talks a mile a minute-" She paused for a moment, narrowed her eyes and said, "Did I mention that Claudia is a no-good thief?"
"Yes," I grinned, "Right before you mentioned Joy, the over excited puppy."
"Before you even know it," Alex continued, "She's going to be nicking my knickers and throwing them out the window! Or even worse," She paused for dramatic effect before flinging her arms in the air, accidently tossing her fork to the Hufflepuff table, "She'll start tossing out all of my homework out the window!"
I stifled my laughter as the Hufflepuffs began wondering aloud about where the blasted fork came from, "Brilliant explanations,” I nodded,” Not that they're exaggerated, right?"
"Aw, blast," Alex looked about, "I've tossed my fork again, haven't I?"
Nodding, I pointed to the Hufflepuffs.
"Damn, I still had a piece of sausage on the end of it,” She sighed, "Alas," She swiped another fork from the pile of them in the center of the table, "I think I have made my point."
Giggling, I blatantly agreed.
"And thus," Snape was circling around the room, his black cloak swirling about him like huge bat wings, "clearly explains why Jobberknoll feathers are so important in truth potions and memory potions." I honestly had to hold back a laugh – his cloaks were always so ridiculous. How did one maintain their bat-like forms?
The entire class seemed to be half-asleep. Wood, sitting behind me, gave a soft snore and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. If he wanted to pass, he was going to have to work extra hard and that meant not sleeping through class.
Snape narrowed his dark, black eyes at the class and swished his cloak together. He drew himself to full length and stared us down before uttering in a soft, quiet voice, "However, if any of you wish to pass your Potions N.E.W.T, it seems a bit unwise to…" He walked over to where Wood was sleeping and dragged his head up by his hair, "Sleep." Snape's lips formed a distinct line on his face, "Mister Wood, I suggest that you stay awake, considering your current standings – ten points from Gryffindor."
Over by the doorway, the Slytherins laughed amongst themselves.
"As of now, I suggest you attempt to make a suitable potion using the Jobberknoll feathers' I have provided. They will be on your exam," His lips drew themselves into a smirk, "You have precisely an hour."
I was to the desk before the rest of the class had registered what Snape had ordered. When I returned, Oliver was beside me, grumbling. He cast Snape a dark look, "Do you-" he stopped, "Do you think you could help me?"
I glanced at the old clock hanging over by the chalkboard, "Alright, but if this costs me my Potions grade…"
Oliver's face seemed to brighten up a bit. "Okay, what am I supposed to do?"
"Lesson one," I said with a wry smile, "Read your potions book."
Time seemed to past quickly and I found that making a truth potion harder than I thought. Oliver was still struggling with a memory potion and was complaining under his breath. He was skimming the book.
"Lesson two," I muttered to him, "Less complaining, more cutting." I pointed to his roots, "If you don't get those cut, Snape won't be satisfied with the results."
Oliver gave me the blankest look I had ever seen.
Biting my lip, I returned to the text. The book was telling me that I needed to add an extra eye of newt for the Potion to instantly turn color, but my gut feeling was telling me otherwise. I continued to stare when Snape hovered nearby. He made no comments, but just continued to survey the Potion making. I went with my gut feeling and continued adding the ingredients, skipping over the extra eye of newt.
"Interesting," Snape murmured, "Very interesting, Miss Murray," He swooped down upon me and my Potions book, "Why have you chosen to deviate from the instructions?"
"Well, Professor," I replied, "If I had added the extra eye of newt, yes, the potion would have changed color but it would have been even more difficult for me after I had added all the ingredients."
"Why is that?"
"Because when I add my single clockwise stir, then double counter-clockwise, I would have to add another toadstool to counterbalance the other color change."
Snape's face remained passive as he muttered, "Acceptable" before moving onto another student.
When Potions finally ended and Snape had collected all the vials of potions, Oliver caught up with me in the hallway. "He said mine was passable." He sounded disappointed.
"Coming from Snape," I replied, "That means that you've done well."
I proceeded to Arithmancy as he attempted to catch up, "Are we still on for tonight?"
Stopping, I turned to face him. "What have you got next?"
"Um, Defense, why?"
I put both hands on my hip, "Oliver Wood, you are walking the opposite way of your class and for no good reason except to wonder if I will still tutor you tonight?"
"Well…um…yes…" He looked like a small boy caught doing wrong and I laughed.
"Yes, we're still on for tonight," Then with emphasis, "Don't be late."
He grinned at me before sprinting off in the opposite direction while I pulled open the classroom door. Professor Vector was talking with Drew and they both turned when I walked in. My face pinked obnoxiously and with my head down, I made my way to my seat.
"Miss Murray," Professor Vector said, "Mister Foster and I were having a discussion on how different numbers affect possible outcomes in the future."
"Interesting," I replied, "Which number are you discussing?"
"Seven," Drew said, more to Professor Vector than me, "The most magical number we've learned."
"Ah, yes." I smiled accordingly, "And do you think it would be more magical if seven was doubled into fourteen?"
"I saw you walking out of Arithmancy," Alex drilled as soon as she jumped on me from behind, "You looked extremely happy; and so, I thought to myself, what would make Lotty grin like that…"
I shook my head, but continued to grin.
"Either, you are more excited about Arithmancy than usual or a certain blonde decided to grace you with his presence." Alex tapped her chin thoughtfully, "I assumed the latter."
"We talked," I confessed, "Well, more like he talked to me through Professor Vector – but, he talked, that's all that's really important."
Alex laughed, "Clearly, you've gone mental."
We sat on one of the stone benches in the courtyard and she relayed what she had heard from the gossip mills. I nodded and made the correct facial expressions of disgust when I heard that Claudia Gray had decided to set her cap on Oliver this year.
"Do you remember one of the Ravenclaw chasers last year?" She inquired.
"Er,"
"Never mind, you're not a quidditch person." Alex amended, "Well, his name was Barrett James and he was an amazing chaser – during the summer, he got signed to play for the Tutshill Tornados and Claudia somehow hooked him!"
I made another appropriate scowl.
"She hooked him and he sent her all these tickets to see him play while she remained in her home during the summer and merely rejected him!" Alex looked scandalized, "Really! Bloody wench! I mean, she went through all that trouble of hooking him because he had made the big leagues and when he gained enough interest in her – she merely just forgot about the poor fellow!"
"If she's so into clever Quidditch players," I asked, "Then why has she picked Wood? He just plays for the House, right?"
Alex's eyes glinted, "I've heard many rumors about Wood."
I leaned forward.
"Like which team is going to sign him to their reserve."
"And?"
"Puddlemere United is the most popular rumor," She replied, "I dunno if it's true though."
I shrugged, "Probably a rumor. I suppose Claudia's wrong about him, then?"
Alex snorted, "Darling, you've never seen a single Quidditch match – so, therefore, by logic, how do you know how well Wood plays? And honestly, I hate to admit it, but Claudia sure knows how to pick them."
It was then, that Claudia Gray emerged from the halls. She was seemingly holding hands with a boy who seemed absolutely dazed in her presence. Claudia stopped at a bench by ours and he immediately wrapped an arm around her.
Alex looked disgusted, "Ah, Theo," She murmured. "I believed she once called him a dunce during class." She turned to me, "It must have begun."
"Obviously, I have no idea what you're talking about." I replied, "For one thing, I have no idea who that boy is and another, didn't you say that she was going after Wood?"
"It's all a part of her plan," Alex replied, turning to me, "She'll capture his attention by being the one thing he can't get and well, if Theo is constantly attached to her –"
"Ah, so Wood will get jealous?" I asked, curiously putting the pieces together. "Rather an odd plan."
"Yes, but it always works!" Alex slammed her fist on the bench, "It always bloody works!"
"The boys must be extremely dimwitted, then," I said, patting her on the back, "I mean, why on earth would that ploy work? Is jealousy really the key to begin a relationship?" I leaned back, dangling me feet just over the dirt. "Honestly, wouldn't that be a really pointless way to get together? It wouldn't be because you genuinely like somebody, it'd be because that person's wanted and so you should want them too…"
"You know," Alex remarked, "For a Gryffindor, you're too damn logical."
I nodded with a smile, "I'm supposed to be unabashedly reckless – jumping into situations courageously and thriving off mere passion and the moment." I gave a sigh, "Doesn't sound much like me, does it?"
Alex laughed again, "Oh, Lotty, you'll find somebody one day who will make you reckless." She considered my final statement, "The Sorting Hat's never wrong, you know, maybe we sort a little too soon…considering how people change, but he sees into your heart of hearts so how is there any chance that he's wrong?"
I considered as well, but just replied with a sigh of, "We'll see."
Alex stood up and held out a hand to me, "I, for one, am glad that you're a Gryffindor – otherwise, I wouldn't have met you; come, let's go get some tea before it's time for class again."
I smiled, feeling the last of the sun's rays before the weather would change its mind again. I gripped her hand and allowed her to pull me up. We left for the Great Hall.
Things would have been excessively normal if Alex hadn't looked somewhat distressed about something. I was about to ask, when the Weasley twins descended on her. They spoke of Quidditch as I helped myself to some biscuits and sipped my tea. Alex let out a laugh as one of them – Fred? – agreed wholeheartedly on something hilarious. The other twin just grinned and patted her on the back.
Again, things went back to normal until another Hufflepuff boy walked past. Alex turned a vibrant shade of red and the twins roared with laughter again; annoyance pricked up within me.
"Who's that boy, Alex?" I asked as the Weasley twins turned for the first time and acknowledged me. The closest one to me – George? – grinned.
"Yeah, who's that boy, Alexie?" He crowed.
She mumbled something and the three of us leaned in to hear.
"You're going to have to speak louder, m'love," The other said, "We don't understand mumbling."
"Mathew Roberts," Alex muttered, looking back towards the table, "Hufflepuff Keeper."
I couldn't help but laugh, "And you said Claudia Gray had a thing for Quidditch players!"
"Shh!" Alex growled, swiping the biscuit from my hand, "Don't let her hear you!" Four pairs of eyes turned towards the door as it swung open – revealing Claudia, marching in while clutching the hand of that other, er, Theo boy. "If she knew that I liked Mathew-"
"Aha!" One of the twins (I had stopped trying to remember their names) accused, "And you said that you didn't fancy him!"
"Shh!" She repeated, her eyes darting about, "She'd take him from me! Regardless of whether or not he's good at Quidditch."
I raised one of my eyebrows, "How long has this been going on because-"
"Oh, stuff it." She sighed, "You were allowed to have your little secret…"
The boys rounded on me, even though they had no idea who I was, "Secret? What secret?"
My face must've showed alarm because Alex called off her hound dogs, "Come on, Fred, George, you don't even know who she is! Leave her alone."
"Aw, Alexandra!" One of them called, "Of course we know who she is, right George?"
"Lots or something." His brother replied.
"Charlotte, actually," I replied. "Charlotte Murray."
"Pleased to meet you," The twins replied together.
"That one's Fred," Alex pointed to the one on her right, "Because he's louder and more obnoxious."
"George," The other smiled.
"Hold on, wait a tick," Fred said, his face scrunched up in thought, "Aren't you the one who's tutoring Wood?"
I rolled my eyes, "Am I just known to the whole House as Wood's tutor?"
"I only recall him telling us that if he didn't find a suitable tutor, McGonagall was going to chuck him as Captain and you know how Wood is," He was telling this to us with such an air of nonchalance that I couldn't help but smile. "And then he was all preoccupied at practice – which, never happens, mind you – and when we asked, he said that he had asked the brightest girl in our house and she turned him down…"
"Yes, that would be me." I rolled my eyes again, "The one who refused to tutor him and then was semi-forced into it by McGonagall."
"How is one semi-forced into anything?" Alex questioned. "I don't think I've ever asked you."
"You know that she was really close to blackmailing! Well, not really; but still…" I gave a shrug. "Luckily, you," I looked at Alex, "had changed my mind earlier, or else she really would have forced me."
The twins laughed and George suggested, "Maybe she was just tired of Snape gloating in the Teacher's Lounge."
"Maybe Snape not washing his greasy hair is kind of a good luck charm for Slytherin."
At this, the three of them – clearly, excluding me – began thinking rapidly about good luck charms and how to acquire them. "Maybe we can get McGonagall to let down her hair for the two months before the Ravenclaw game!" Alex suggested. "Can you even imagine what that'd be like?"
Fred shook his head, "I can't ever see Minnie letting down her hair – not even for Quidditch."
They then suggested that in order to get Slytherin to lose, they would have to wash Snape's hair.
"Now, that's a detention I'd rather avoid," George shuddered, "Can you imagine how long he's probably gone without a nice shampooing?"
"If only our Mum could get him in her clutches," Fred added, "He'd probably be the cleanest teacher in the entire school…"
More suggestions were made as they laughed. I felt sort of left out because once they began talking about Quidditch game plans – I completely zoned out.
Claudia Gray was sitting a couple seats down from us. The Hufflepuff boy had gone and she was chatting with a blonde. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and flashed her silver-blue eyes on me when she saw me staring. I immediately gazed elsewhere.
Oliver Wood came to greet the Weasleys' and that's when she sauntered over.
"Hello Oliver," She said, giving him a sly smile.
"Hello Claudia," He replied.
He seemed so oblivious to what she was trying to do and she managed to get a few more words out of him before going back to the blonde with an annoyed expression.
"Practice tonight," Oliver alerted the twins.
"Actually," I cut in, "You've got tutoring."
He turned his attention to me, "We'll be done by ten."
"If we're lucky…" Muttered Fred.
Oliver rounded on him with a lecture on the importance of practice. Alex and I exchanged looks as the bell rang for class. Fred looked glad to escape as he and his brother scampered off. I said goodbye to my friend and made my way to Charms.
"Wait up!" Oliver took a couple long strides and managed to make it to me. "Hello."
Hesitantly, I replied, "Hello."
Our awkward hellos were interrupted by Claudia Gray, who swooped down on us like she was Professor Snape. She flashed a thousand-watt smile at Oliver and asked about Quidditch and if spectators were allowed at tonight's practice. I sidled away to my seat in the front. The bugger placed himself behind me and of course, Claudia was next to him.
She chatted about seeing the Arrows' (who were they?) match over the summer with her Dad and asked him if he thought the Tornadoes were better than the Cannons.
Of course, I sat, waiting for class to begin, unwillingly eavesdropping on their conversation. Oliver answered all of her questions politely and met her conversation with general responses. Yes, he had heard that the Arrows' had played well over the summer and he thought that every team was generally better than the Cannons.
"Are you going to Hogsmeade, then?" She managed to ask before the rest of the class trooped in.
"When is that?" He questioned.
"Two weeks time." She responded almost instantly.
"If we don't have practice, I'll probably be stopping at the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer with the team."
Of course, this just made Claudia latch onto him with much more vigor. She named off the female players and remarked that she was very good friends with them – which was a lie, because I had heard Angelina Johnson verbally abusing her with Alicia Spinnet one afternoon in the not-so-distant past.
"We should go together," Claudia proposed coolly. "Unless, you know, you have practice that day – and if you do, you'll know I'll be watching…"
Her voice was – if it was possible – literally, dripping with sugary sweetness.
"Sure," Oliver agreed.
The rest of the class bustled into the room and I was extremely thankful when Flitwick asked us to perform Protean charms. Even though non-verbal spells were expected, I could still hear the murmur of words through the classroom. Clearly, they were going to get points taken off during N.E.W.T's.
Despite my hopes of silence, Claudia's voice continued to carry on from behind me. If Alex had been there, she would have turned and demanded silence – or she would have commented that my right eye was twitching. Poor Oliver! He kept trying to change the conversation to Protean charms, but Claudia just wouldn't have it – she continued pestering him about Quidditch.
Geez, I started to wonder how she became so talented at catching Quidditch players because her conversation skills were really lacking – or maybe that was her key to snagging them so easily.
Setting down my wand, I couldn't help but scratch my head a little as I pondered this. I had noticed that most males at Hogwarts were dating or had dated someone exactly like Claudia – conniving, malicious, airheaded, uninteresting….the list could really go on!
It was then, while I pondered away at the oddities of boys, that a shriek caught everybody's attention. We all turned to see another Gryffindor – Connor Lewis – jump out of his seat. He was yelling and prancing and well, his cloak had caught on fire. Really, really, brilliant idea to scratch your back with your wand without thinking…
Flitwick calmly put out the flames with a silent water charm and sent him to the Hospital Wing to be checked by Madame Pomfrey.
I wish I could say that the rest of the period was that eventful, but alas, it was not.
It was eight and I was leaving the library – after all, it closed at nine and I still had to go up and help Alex with her Transfiguration essay. The halls were fairly empty, there were a couple of students walking about but I didn't really pay any attention to them. I took two steps at a time when I got to the moving staircases and frowned slightly as the one under me shifted positions.
Hopping over the trick-step, I wondered why Drew was absent from the library tonight. I followed the three other Gryffindors up towards the Portrait hole but paused when the second-years pondered what the password was.
"Fortuna Major," I said clearly before she swung open. They said nothing as I stalked past them and stepped into the entrance to the common room. There was the loud chatter of after-dinner gossip and bang of textbooks being slammed against the table.
"LOTTY!" Alex cried out when I reached her desk, "THIS IS TOO BLOODY DIFFICULT!" Her hair was sticking up in different places and her silver eyes were wide with frustration.
"This is why I dropped Transfiguration, dear," I sighed, taking her parchment and scanning it quickly. "Alex! You haven't even started writing yet!" I set it down, "All it says is your name and the title of the essay."
"I've tried everything!" She wailed, "This is my own fault for taking Transfiguration to N.E.W.T level!" She absentmindedly pulled at her blonde hair.
"The prompt is fairly simple," I explained, glancing at the assignment. "You just have to explain why one can't choose their Animagus form."
"Yes, but I don't even know how one turns into one!" Alex exclaimed, "McGonagall has been very hesitant about telling us because, well, I think she fears that we might try it and kill ourselves!"
"Alex," I began.
"Yes, yes," She fussed, "I read my textbook and it just says that one's Animagus form reflects our inner character, blah…blah…blah…" Alex turned the page absently, "But it doesn't say why."
I rolled my eyes and plopped down beside her, "Well, we can always begin with practical thought."
She gave me a wide smile and picked up her quill, "What would I do without you, Lotty?"
"Fail," I responded easily, "You would fail."
With my help, Alex easily finished her essay and breathed a sigh of relief. She grabbed my hand and grinned, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I glanced at the clock – it had taken a good hour and a half but she had finished.
"You know, you should have more confidence in your academic abilities," I told her. "You're not dimwitted at all; you just need to try a bit harder."
Alex rolled her eyes but changed the topic of conversation, "When are you meeting with Oliver?"
I checked the clock again – not out of wonder since I had just checked it a few moments ago, but out of habit, "Ten."
"Well then," Alex said, standing up and collecting her books. "I shall leave you to your studying! I think I'm going to go take a shower and I suppose I'll see you up later." She walked up the stairs and disappeared from my view.
The next thirty minutes seemed to pass slowly. I sat on the sofa and stared at the large beams that crisscrossed the ceiling. My eyes were beginning to drift shut – not because I was tired, but because I was so damn bored. My fingers toyed with the gold fringe of the sofa's throw and unraveled a few stands of material. The clock finally chimed ten and I glanced at the portrait hole.
No Oliver.
I growled low in my throat and continued to stare at it. I inhaled deeply, annoyance and impatience seeping into my movements. I stood with my arms crossed, tapping my right foot – half-expecting him to run in and beg my forgiveness.
Ten minutes passed and still no Oliver.
Do you want to know when exactly Oliver Wood came barging into the common room? He gallantly walked into the room at precisely ten minutes to eleven, a large smile on his face – still dressed in his Quidditch uniform.
Oliver Wood was a dead man.
A/N: Reviews&Thoughts would be nice, but if you have to be blunt - be gentle because I'll feel discouraged. I'd like to thank all the people who reviewed in the last chapter - you guys are amazing! Thank you so much!
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling, therefore I do not own Harry Potter or anything of that sort. Though, anything original solely belongs to me.
Edit 9/12/09: Now beta'd by my amazing beta, AntigoneBlack! Thank you so much, dear ^_^
The smug smile on Wood's face vanished the instant he saw me. His lips opened and words tumbled out, but I was not paying him any attention. Instead, my eyes were staring at the clock behind him.
"I'm sorry, Lotty!" He exclaimed, immediately placing his hands up in a defensive position. "I ran up here as soon as I had realized-"
"I think we were scheduled at ten," I said coldly. "It's almost eleven." I pointed to the clock, "Do you not know how to tell time or something?"
He began to speak, his lips forming another one of his excuses, but I shook my head.
"Maybe we'll ask McGonagall to transfigure you into something useful, Wood," I suggested icily, "Like a pocket watch or some sort of alarm clock." I rubbed my eye with my right hand and gave a sigh, "I should have known better than to agree to this. It's almost eleven and I'm supposed to stay up 'til twelve?"
"It's difficult," Wood began. "I really want to beat-"
"I don't really care, Wood!" I growled, "You might be King of the Quidditch Pitch but you're in my domain, now!"
"You're being bloody unreasonable!" He protested, "This isn't fair at all! How is this supposed to help me? This is my last year-"
"It's mine too!"
"That's beyond the point," Oliver looked completely irritated. Sweat was still beaded on his forehead as he wiped it hurriedly with his sleeve. "Because you don't care about Quidditch – hell, I bet you don't give half a wit if we lost the Cup to Slytherin!" More frustrated than I've ever seen him, he ran a hand through his hair. "Truth be told, I honestly don't care if you don't care about the Cup, but you've at least got to understand-"
"Understand what?" I sneered. "Understand that I have to waste my time on some burly bloke who is all brawns and no brain?" I would have walked up to bed by now, but my feet had cemented themselves to the ground. "Understand that in order for me to achieve so-called 'house unity', I should sacrifice my own time for you?" I gave a hollow laugh, my eyes fixated on his face. "This is absolutely ridiculous!"
"This isn't ridiculous," Wood nearly yelled, "You're being ridiculous! So, I'm almost an hour late – you should be bloody lucky that I even decided to show!"
That did it.
"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice soft but my eyes still latched onto his face, "Do you think that I'm going to patiently wait here for you to graciously grace me with your noble presence?" I drew myself up to my fullest length (not that it was very intimidating, but still, it's the gesture that counts) and stared at him incredulously. "You might be used to fancy treatment from McGonagall because she wants to win the Cup, or maybe even from your teammates, but you will never receive it from me."
"When have I ever asked for special treatment, Murray?" He exclaimed, his eyes clouded over with fury. "I don't think you deserve to act this way – all high and mighty because I had to practically get down on my knees and beg for you to help me…"
My lips thinned.
"You," I snorted, "Beg? I would hardly call that begging, Wood." The clock chimed eleven, the empty common room ringing with its bells. "You're just frustrated because I won't let you slack off for Quidditch!"
"IT ISN'T ABOUT SLACKING OFF!"
"You're right," I replied, "It's about quidditch because EVERYTHING about you has to do with QUIDDITCH." My voice might've carried through the portrait hole because at that moment, the entire Gryffindor Quidditch Team walked in and came to a complete stop.
One of the twins ran a hand through his messy red hair and stared, "Erm, are we interrupting something?"
"I'm going to bed," I announced, "Come find me when you start bloody caring about something other than quidditch." My feet unglued themselves from the ground, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I stomped up the stairs towards the girl's dormitories.
"Blimey," I heard someone say, "What just happened?"
Shaking my head, I had just reached the doorway when Claudia Gray stopped me. Lifting her cold eyes to my face, she uttered her first words to me: "You ought to give more leeway for Wood, Charlotte – after all, we're counting on him to win the Cup."
Interrupting her, Alex grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room. Claudia rolled her eyes and went back to her own bed while Alex pushed me towards the window.
"What was that about?" She rushed, "I think the whole dormitory heard it!"
I just sighed, rubbing my eyes. "Alex, I'm beginning to regret my decision to tutor him."
She rolled her eyes, "So, he got a bit shirty with you…that doesn't mean that you have to give up already!"
"It's really not worth the effort, Alex – Oliver's clearly all brawn and no brain."
Again, she rolled her eyes. Have I mentioned how much I hate it? It just means that she's going to be right about something because Alex is always bloody right.
"He's a sodding idiot," She replied in a hushed voice so that nobody else could hear. "You're doing this for a change, remember? The change you wanted? Come on, Lotty…"
"You, out of everyone else in the world, should know how I am about studying," I explained. "I don't know if I can handle someone who doesn't take it as seriously."
"I don't take it seriously," Alex responded, "And you handle me quite well." Then she grinned, "I'll pretend that I haven't said something dirty."
I blinked, "What?"
"Never mind. Go to bed and sleep it off; you'll be fine in the morning," She patted my arm. "I'm not asking you to give him leeway, though," She shot a dirty look towards Claudia's bed. "Just realize that he might have different priorities than you."
"Clearly," I yawned.
"If you're lucky," She whispered to me as we went to our beds, "Maybe Oliver will let you polish his broom!" She giggled quietly to herself.
"I don't know why I'd want to polish his broomstick, to be honest," I said thoughtfully, "It must be filthy..."
Alex continued to chuckle quietly to herself, "Ah, if only we were all as naïve as you, Lotty…"
The next morning seemed to come too soon. I stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling while girls' walked up and down the corridor, chattering. The clock by my bed said that it was barely six, so I climbed out of bed. Most of the frustration from the night before had disappeared, but I was still peeved.
If there's one thing I hate more than bad grades, it's when people don't keep their word. I told him many times that it was at ten and yet, he still blew me off. Another thing that bothered me about Oliver was that his attitude was rotten – and if he wanted to remain captain, he was going to have to start acting like he cared.
Merlin! I was still frustrated.
I went through my daily routine – shower, brush my teeth, comb hastily through my hair – before darting out of the dormitories. I clambered down the stairs and leapt off the bottom step into the common room. It was fairly empty and the fire was a pile of smoldering coals within a pile of black ash. Over in the corner, besides a maroon and gold tapestry, sat Oliver. His head was down, and he appeared to be sleeping. Wood seemed to be using a textbook as a pillow and just out of reach of his fingers, was a miniature of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.
Rolling my eyes, I climbed out of the portrait hole. Could he not give Quidditch a rest? Even when asleep? I hoisted my book bag higher up on my shoulder and began walking towards the library.
That morning was particularly chilly. It was as though the mild autumn air had been replaced by winter's chill breath. Even within the castle, I could feel the coolness of winter descend; I pulled my scarf tighter around my throat.
By the time I had reached the library, people were already strolling about in the halls. I didn't spot Drew, but I did sit in my usual spot. I reached over into my bag and fished out my star charts. The thick astronomy book followed as I flipped it open.
"Jupiter, Jupiter, where are you…fair Jupiter…" I mumbled, my quill hovering just over the chart as I glanced back towards the book. "Okay, you're this dot…which means when you cross over…" I scratched my head. Astronomy had been an easy class when I was a fourth year, but now, it had risen in levels of difficulty. One could say that I was not looking forward to my Astronomy N.E.W.T.
I had been busy for half an hour and still, Drew failed to show up. I silently wondered what he was doing.
Other students had arrived and there was a quiet chatter throughout; I caught snippets of Potions essays, Transfiguration terms and History of Magic babble.
Closing my astronomy book, I attempted to figure out my schedule for the day. It was Friday, so, I had Herbology first and then double Potions – ugh, two classes with Wood. After about three hours of Oliver Wood, I would be free for an hour or so when I had Arithmancy, but then I'd have to endure another hour with him in History of Magic.
Groaning, I put my head down on the desk and sighed deeply. If there was one class that I really hated, it was Herbology. I never understood it. Alex, however, excelled at it. I smiled. Well, there was some consolation after all. I might've shared Herbology with Wood, but I shared it with Alex too. Briefly, I recalled Alex's dream of becoming a botanist.
Suddenly, I ransacked my book bag in search for my calendar. I threw it open and thumbed through the pages quickly before coming to the correct day. "Oh, no…" I sighed, "No, no, no…this can't be!"
Indeed. Today was the day that job applications would be available outside the Great Hall. I threw my book bag over my shoulder and rolled up my star charts before marching out of the library. I nearly sprinted towards the Great Hall and skidded to a stop when I saw the piles of paper sitting upon a table, underneath a giant bulletin board with even more papers.
My heart hammered away in my chest as I lifted up one of the leaflets.
Application for Assistant to Ministry Historian.
- N.E.W.T in History of Magic
- N.E.W.T in Charms
- N.E.W.T in
I set the paper down and picked up another one.
Application for Junior Unspeakable.
- N.E.W.T in History of Magic
- N.E.W.T in Arithmancy/Divination
- N.E.W.T in Astrology
There were more requirements, but I placed it back on the table. Fifth year, when we had had Career Counseling, McGonagall had suggested that I strive to become an Unspeakable. I was hesitant. Working in the Ministry wasn't something I truly had in mind. Although I didn't admit it at the time, I wanted to become something as interesting as Alex! She wanted to be a botanist, which meant that she would have to start as an assistant to one first, but either way, she would be able to travel the world and examine all sorts of fascinating things.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to be stuck inside the Ministry for the rest of my life – turn into one of those Barty Crouch's? Not my cup of tea. But at the time, I wasn't sure what else I could do, so I accepted the advice and based all my classes on a future in the Ministry. Ugh, it was so irritating, not knowing what one wants to do with their life. All this studying, this planning…for something that I can't even think of; I stared at the pieces of paper, scanning over titles such as: Application for Magical Maintenance; Application for broom maker; and various other odd jobs.
Maybe I should just not work after Hogwarts…but who am I kidding? That's ridiculous and beyond my family's means! Not that my parents would ever allow it, either. Even though my father was a Muggle, their expectations of me were extremely high. I was to score well, find a high-paying job and get married to someone as high-achieving as I was.
Thanks Mum, glad you've planned out my entire life for me. Needless to say, Caroline Murray was quite pleased with McGonagall's recommendation for the position of Unspeakable.
Without much else to do, I walked into the Great Hall. Since it was about seven-ten, breakfast was already underway. I saw Alex laughing with the Weasley twins and approached – slowly, though, because the twins had witnessed my angry rant and I was hesitant to be ridiculed.
"Morning," I said to Alex.
"Hey, morning," She grinned, "Try this kipper, it's delicious."
"I hate kipper, and you know it."
"But it's delicious." She pouted, "You don't know what you're missing out!" Alex's forkful of fish disappeared into her mouth and she winked, "Mmmmmmmm."
I poured myself a goblet of orange juice – the usual morning drink for me, some may prefer tea in the morning but I was, and will always be, an orange juice sort of girl.
"So," One of the twins turned to me. I was sure he was Fred, since it was usually Fred who initiated social contact with me. "Are you still going to tutor Wood?"
"Maybe," I replied after taking a sip of the juice. "I don't like his attitude much."
Alex rolled her eyes, "You've probably already forgiven him."
"Just because I forgive people much more often than you do, does not mean…"
"Oh, so I'm not forgiving then?"
"You hold grudges!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
Alex and I stared at each other until the twins burst out laughing, "Do you two always exchange such banter?"
She patted my back and winked, "Of course. Can't you tell that we're like an old married couple?"
The other twin, George, I think, began to laugh while his brother said something about Alex always wearing the pants in relationships. She rolled her eyes and smacked him upside the head, which earned more laughter from his brother.
"Why'd you hit me?" Fred said, "I'm George!"
"You're not," Alex replied, "I've been friends with you long enough to tell the difference!"
"Aw, our Mum can't even tell us apart sometimes," George put in.
The bickering quieted when Oliver arrived. His face was unshaven and he had bags under his eyes. It didn't take a genius to see that he hadn't gotten very much sleep.
"You look terrible, Wood," Fred commented, "Rough night?"
He gave a moan and collapsed on the bench, yawning, "I was trying to study for Potions while planning for the next match." Oliver replied, "I guess I fell asleep at the mention of sleep potions."
"Yeah, I saw you this morning on the way out," Alex replied. She sent me a side-ways look that made me flush with guilt. "You've got something there…" She pointed to his chin.
"Oh, yeah," He yawned again, "There was a quill in my book and it must have given me a nice mark."
Alex was still giving me that look of hers and I shook my head vigorously. I wasn't going to say anything! How could I, especially after last night? It would be too embarrassing. It's not like Oliver noticed I was there anyway, or maybe he did but was furious with me for yelling at him.
If it was the latter, then I didn't want to talk to him either.
"So," Oliver turned to the right and settled his eyes on my face. "Are you still mad at me?"
Looking at his tired face and unshaven chin, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.
Alex, on the other hand, snorted, "Are you kidding me? She probably forgave you before she fell asleep."
"That is not true," I contradicted, avoiding his gaze. "And no, I'm not mad at you. But seriously, you need to be on time."
The twins high-fived each other and Alex grinned.
"She's mad about time. Really, a complete nutter about it – so, yeah, I suggest that you be on time next time. You should've seen her when I had promised to meet her at-"
"They don't need to hear that story!" I exclaimed, clamping a hand over her mouth as I felt my face redden.
"Anyways," Fred interrupted as George just gave us a curious look, "If his being on time requires cut-backs on Practice time…we're willing to make that sacrifice!" He saluted Wood.
"I think it's much wiser if we scheduled during the day," I retorted.
"Thanks for bursting our bubble, Lots."
I raised my right eyebrow in question. Who on earth had decided my new nickname would be Lots? I had been somewhat hesitant when Alex decided on Lotty, but Lots? What sort of name was that?
"Suits you," Alex replied. "Lots of smarts…" She amended when I shot her a threatening glare.
Though, I had to admit, having a nickname made me feel accepted – almost welcomed.
The dirt clung to my fingers like bogies. I must have been making faces, because Alex raised an eyebrow and dumped the plant into a pot before allowing me to fill it with fresh soil. It was not fair that she got to use gloves! I wiggled my fingers, trying to get any excess dirt off as Professor Sprout walked by. She surveyed our movements for a second.
"Miss Murray, please refrain from attempting to wipe dirt onto your cloak."
I stopped, my fingers halfway down the black cloth draped around me, and looked at her guiltily. Alex just grinned cheekily, waving her gloved hands at me. I wanted to wipe the dirt on her face so badly that my fingers twitched, but I refrained because Sprout was too busy applauding Alex's attempts.
Across the Greenhouse, I saw that Oliver was having trouble with his partner, Joy Walker. She was jumping about like a fish out of water and Oliver was forced to hold down the plant was his bare fingers.
"Wood! Put it down! That plant will eat your fingers!"
At her words, Oliver leapt away from the plant as Sprout examined Joy. Apparently, Joy had been bitten, but had been too excited at the prospect of having Oliver as her partner to notice. What a dunce, seriously. She was promptly sent to the hospital wing and Alex just rolled her eyes.
"What amateurs," she muttered, "Honestly, can't even recognize a proper sapling of Chinese Chomping Cabbage."
The end of class came at the perfect moment. More dirt had somehow found their way onto my hand and I was wiping everything hastily on my robes. "It's disgusting," I whined, "Look how it's found its way into my fingernails…"
"Quit being such a baby," Alex replied, "Can't you just blast it away with a spell?"
"Fuss, fuss," I muttered something and waved – most of the dirt vanished, but a fair amount stayed put. "Why don't you ever get dirt under your nails?" I complained, "And you always get to be the one wearing gloves!"
"Do not!" She retorted, "Don't fuss so! You look stupid. Just let the dirt be – it'll wash away in the shower."
"I'm sorry if I don't appreciate the smell of fertilizer in the morning," I sighed, "But the feeling just irks me."
"Then don't think about it," Alex said smoothly.
We both stopped in the hallway and she waved.
"I'll see you after a double-dose of Potions, then," I gave a sigh.
"Oh, yeah, have tons of fun with Snape."
I was about to exchange something witty with Alex, when a figure pushed its way past her. The girl turned and gave Alex half-a-smile. Alex's lips thinned into a line and I turned to see who it was.
"Alexandra, how nice to see you," The girl simpered, "When was the last time we had a lovely chat?"
If there was anyone Alex hated more than Claudia Gray, it was Isabella Perez.
"Oh, about second year," Alex replied, her tone as cold as her silver eyes. "When you absolutely humiliated me."
"Humiliate you?" Isabella replied, her voice as smooth as silk, "Humiliate the impossible Alexandra Clark? Well, isn't that…impossible?" She gave a hollow laugh, "Glad to see you're still hanging out with that odd Murray girl." Her brown eyes settled on me.
That Murray girl? What was I? A shadow? I wanted to say something, but my lips were glued shut. This was definitely Alex's battle and frankly, I didn't care what Isabella Perez said about me, as long as it wasn't something rude about my friend.
"The only odd person I see here, is you," Alex's voice sent a chill down my spine. "If you don't want to be hexed to oblivion, it'd be smart to move."
Isabella's lip curled, "You wouldn't dare hex an old friend, now, would you?"
Another voice joined the fray – equally if not more cool than Alex's, "Just move it, Perez." Claudia Gray seemed to materialize out of thin air.
"And what does this have to do with you, Gray?" Her tone was curious.
"It doesn't," Claudia replied flatly, her cool blue eyes looking through the culprit. "You're just blocking my path to Divination."
A/N: And the plot thickens? Er, something like that..Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed last time - you all make my day! Thanks for stopping by and giving this a read - if you don't mind, please leave a review and tell me your thoughts! :)
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling, therefore I do not own Harry Potter or anything of that sort. Though, anything original solely belongs to me.
A/N: A heartfelt thanks to the people who review every time I update - you guys are amazing and you all know who you are.
Edit 9/12/09: Thanks so much to my beta AntigoneBlack! You're amazing, dear ;)
I wandered down towards the dungeons, my feet leading the way as my mind wandered elsewhere. The narrow staircase was always a hazard because the steps were small and hard to see; I missed the last one and one foot slipped under the other.
I would've fallen onto my arse had it not been for Oliver. His face was unreadable as he grabbed my elbow and steadied me.
"Whoops," he turned to face me. "Have you really forgiven me, then?"
"Mm," I dusted my robes off and straightened the bottom of my skirt before rushing forward and pushing the dungeon door open. Oliver trailed after me as I took my usual seat in the front.
"I can't tell if that's a yes or a no," he continued.
Merlin! How on earth could Alex be feeling right now? I chewed on my bottom lip in thought. Isabella Perez was a Gryffindor and she and Alex had previously been friends - that much I knew. What caused their row, second year, was beyond me.
I moved like a brainless zombie towards the desk before taking a seat. My mind still whizzed – I was trying to put together all the events from previous years to match the one that had happened five minutes before…
"Charlotte?" Wood was waving a hand in front of my face.
I shifted my body and leaned against the desk, my chin propped up on one hand. Scarcely imagining what Alex could be going through, I removed my chin from my hand and ran the hand through my unruly hair.
Alex was easy-going. She wouldn't jinx just anyone in the corridor. She wasn't that type of girl. Hell, I don't even think Alex would really jinx Claudia! I smirked, imagining a big-headed Alex muttering a bad jelly-legs jinx and somehow jinxing herself. A small chuckle escaped my lips and Wood gave a loud sigh.
"Are you ignoring me?"
"What?" The image faded from my mind and my eyes slowly focused on the image of Wood's face - inches from mine. "What's the matter?"
"You were ignoring me!" Wood looked absolutely dumbstruck, "You're still mad, aren't you?"
"Mad? Who's mad?" I looked around, "I think you're the one who's mad, Wood. Nobody else looks nutty."
"Are you feeling alright, Charlotte?" He peered at me curiously, "You do look a bit peaky." He shook his head, "No, not nutty-mad, Charlotte. Mad, like, angry!"
"Still don't see any body that looks angry."
And then the image of Alex jumped back into my mind. The look on her face when Isabella called her by her full first name. Nobody called Alex by her full first name - unless, of course, they were teasing her - but frankly, using it in everyday greetings was odd. I saw her silver eyes look as though they were two frosted orbs – anyone in the vicinity could’ve felt the chill from them.
Oh, Merlin, and the smirk on Isabella's face. How could I not know about this? Where was I during this magnificent row?
Oh. Yes. Of course.
I was doing what I did best - not making friends and hiding from human contact in corners, hidden from view with textbooks larger than my head.
"You're not angry, Charlotte?" Oliver was there again, sort of like an irritating fly or mosquito that wouldn't go away. "Charlotte?"
"No! I'm not angry," I finally said, turning my eyes on his face. "I'm just irritated."
"I did say sorry, you know."
"Yes, and then you were quite rude after that."
Whatever he was going to say after that, was lost when Professor Snape decided to descend on us. His cloak swished and he was beside us, looking over our faces with two beady eyes.
"My classroom is not a place to row, Wood." His voice was slow, deep - it reminded me of cold metal and sent shivers down my spine. "If you may, take a seat."
Wood hesitantly moved into the seat beside me - much to my dismay. I wanted more time to rack my memories for anything to do with Isabella and Alex.
"You were also being rude!" He whispered to me, hazel eyes glaring at me.
Glaring? Why the hell would he be glaring at me? Merlin, did he expect me to get down on my knees and beg for his forgiveness? Ha! More like, Oliver getting down on his knees and begging for my forgiveness! The very thought was preposterous.
The seats filled and Professor Snape began his lecture on the properties of Polyjuice Potion. I would have hissed something back at Oliver, but I had scanned my memories and found a snippet of gossip I had heard in the girls’ lavatories, back in second year.
Yes, I recalled the voice. Haughty, dramatic - it was all too familiar.
"Professor?" A voice piped up from somewhere in the back, "Is it possible to change the properties of Polyjuice Potion?"
That was the voice! The very voice that I had recalled, relaying the juicy bit of gossip from the girls' lavatories!
"What ever do you mean, Miss Davenport?"
I turned and craned my neck over my shoulder to see a cool blonde Ravenclaw answer, "Well, I was just wondering...if it is used to change the look of whoever drinks it --"
"Get to your point, Davenport." Snape replied, leaning against the desk and doing a very good impression of a shadow.
"Would it be able to change hair color?" She pulled at a strand of yellow hair, "I was thinking that I would look rather brilliant as a redhead..."
"Ten points from Ravenclaw," Snape said quietly, his eyes glinting dangerously. "For sheer negligence."
Her voice wound its way through my mind, reaching an invisible hand towards a foggy memory and fetching as though it were Madame Pince reaching for a dropped library book. The voice, Elise Davenport's voice.
The smug girl merely turned to the boy sitting beside her and wrapped a strand of blonde hair around her fingers.
"Haven't you heard? I can't believe that you haven't," The voice was haughty, filled with false disbelief and feigned innocence. "That Alexandra girl, you know the one, in Gryffindor?"
"Isabella's friend?" Another voice returned, "Her best friend?"
"Best friend?" Elise laughed hollowly. "What kind of best friend goes around behind their back and steals their beau?"
"NO!" The scandalized voice said, "She didn't!"
"She did."
"Does Isabella know?"
"Let's just say," Elise lowered her voice. "That Alex won't bother anyone anymore…"
I trailed after Elise's giggling gaggle of females until they had reached the staircase. She was met by Isabella and exchanged air-kisses on both cheeks.
I tried to slink by without attracting much attention but Isabella's keen eyes spotted me before I could turn the corner and dash off towards the common room.
"You," She called out and I froze. "Murray."
Why hadn't she bothered to at least learn my first name? I turned, shifting the weight of my book-bag from my right shoulder to my left one.
"Where are you slinking off to?" Isabella took a step towards me and Elise narrowed her eyes.
"Were you following me?" She demanded to know. "You better not have been following me."
"I-I wasn't." I don't know what made me stutter but I did, and Isabella's cruel laugh rang off the stone walls of Hogwarts. "I was just heading towards the common room."
"A cowardly lion?" She mocked, taking another step forward.
"If you excuse me," I interrupted. "I've really got to get going. Lots of homework…" I turned to leave again but a spell hit my body and I felt my legs stick together before I went toppling over. The hallway exploded with laughter as I reached into my pocket for my wand.
Another spell from Isabella's wand ripped open my book bag and sent the contents spilling down the hallway. Parchments and quills lay around me as I watched my final bottle of ink roll towards the group of girls. Isabella stopped it with her foot and without even flinching, crushed the tiny bottle underneath her shoe.
"Ugh," She looked down and gave a dramatic sigh. "Why did you have to go and ruin my favorite pair of shoes, Murray?"
"Let me fix that for you," A Ravenclaw girl said and gave her wand a swish as the ink disappeared from her black shoes.
They all began giggling again when Oliver approached.
"What's happened?" He questioned, looking about.
"Nothing," Isabella replied as she diverted his attention away from me. "She was clumsy and fell." She tugged at his arm. "Let's go back to the Common Room, Oliver."
The girls left too and I found myself alone in the hallway, my legs still glued together and my belongings surrounding me. I was so embarrassed, I couldn't even mutter, "Finite" and lift the jinx from my legs. Instead, I stared at the stone ground and bit back the tears that threatened to fall down my face.
How stupid I must've looked. Merlin! How could I ever scold Oliver again – I couldn't! Not after he's seen me in such a state. Footsteps were echoing from another corridor and I was sure it was Filch, ready to scold me and give me detention. My face reddened and I lifted up a hand to swipe against my eye when the footsteps stopped.
All I saw was a brown shoe. A brown shoe connected to a body that I didn't recognize.
"Are you alright?" The voice was kind, somewhat hoarse, but I still didn't recognize the scarred face peering down at me curiously. "Can you stand?"
I shook my head.
"Hm, do you know what kind of a jinx they put on you?"
Again, I shook my head.
"Let's hope this works now, shall we?" He lifted his wand and muttered, "Finite."
He held out a hand to me and I grabbed it as he hauled me up onto my feet. My eyes went straight to the smashed ink bottle and I held the tattered bag closer to my body.
"There, now," The man said as he resealed the bottom my bag and picked up my belongings. "There's no use crying over spilt ink." I looked up through my bangs and saw him smile. "Let's go up to my office. You look like you need some tea."
He grabbed the crook of my arm and slowly led me down the corridor towards an empty classroom. We went up the spiral staircase and he conjured up a chair.
"How rude of me," He said as he tapped the kettle with his wand. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Professor Lupin – the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"N-Nice to meet you." My face was still red. I could feel the warmth still coming off of my skin. "I'm Charlotte…"
"You aren't in my class." Professor Lupin said conversationally.
"N-no." When he turned his back, I swiped haphazardly at my right eye and sniffed a bit. "I-I decided not to take the N.E.W.T for Defense…"
"And why is that, if you don't mind me asking?" His tone wasn't mean or overly judgmental – he was just curious.
"It wasn't a subject I thoroughly enjoyed, sir."
"There's no need to call me sir, really." Lupin replied as the kettle began ringing with an alarming sound that caused me to nearly leap from my seat in fear. "Sir, it makes me feel rather old." He gave me another warm smile as he poured me a cup of tea. "Milk? Sugar?"
I shook my head and brought the cup up to my lips. Until that moment, I hadn't realized that I had been shaking. My lips trembled when it touched the smooth surface and I almost sputtered when the hot liquid touched my tongue.
"Careful," He cautioned, "It's hot."
I nodded, feeling like a five year old child as he handed me a chocolate covered biscuit.
"You're a Gryffindor?" Lupin noted my crimson and gold scarf and when I nodded, he gave a wide smile. "I was a Gryffindor myself. Being back is really a bit spooky – I keep expecting things to be the same…"
I sipped my tea, watching him curiously as he talked. He didn't appear to be too old – maybe in his early to mid thirties, with light brown hair that was speckled with grey. There were dark bags under his thoughtful brown eyes. Though his face was marred by unusual scars, I supposed that he was quite handsome – not in the dashing way that idiot Lockhart was, but still quite good looking.
"Do you know who jinxed you?"
"Sort of," I started to say, before realizing how he had slipped it into our conversation without me noticing. He gave me a look, his lips twitching. "I would…rather not say…Professor."
"That's perfectly fine, Charlotte."
Somewhat astonished that he didn't pry for more, I finished sipping on my tea and placed the cup back onto his desk.
"Thank you for the tea, Professor. But I think I should get going. I was supposed to meet a friend and she might be in a right state if I don't go soon."
Professor Lupin turned and gave me one of his wide smiles, "Of course. You're welcome to go. If anything else happens and you'd like to discuss it…you know where to find me."
He didn't press matters and I nodded before thanking him again and fleeing from the classroom. It was nice, I decided, having a Professor like him. It was only too bad that I had dropped Defense.
My feet took me directly to the Fat Lady, who scolded me a bit before allowing me to give her to proper password. She swung open and Alex launched herself at me.
"Where did you go?" She inquired, her expression somewhat peeved.
"Things…happened…" I scratched the back of my head uncertainly, "I got uh, caught up."
"You're a terrible liar, Lotty." Alex replied. "What happened?" She grabbed both of my shoulders and began shaking me. "Why've you got such a dreadful expression on your face?"
"Why are you shaking me?" I pulled myself from her grip. "I-I…" Looking past her shoulder, I caught the eye of Isabella Perez. Her lips tugged themselves into a devious smile before she turned back to her conversation with Oliver. "I tripped, that's all."
"It took you half an hour to get here because you tripped?"
"Yes," I said seriously. "I also met Professor Lupin – the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Ah, yes," Alex brightened considerably. "Isn't he fabulous? Kind and wonderful…"
"He offered me tea…" I replied, glad that the topic had changed.
She chattered on and I avoided Isabella Perez. I was pleased to find that Alex had returned to her normal self – though, even as she chatted loudly and teased me, there was a faraway look in her eyes. I wondered if I should ask her; I wondered why I couldn't tell her what had happened to me.
Pride
I couldn't tell her that I had been humiliated in the middle of an empty corridor by those girls – I was too proud to admit such a thing. I was ashamed that, with all my book smarts and good grades, I couldn't even free myself from the jinx they used on me; I couldn't even reseal my bag and pick up my things.
Hades, Zeus and Merlin's beard, you know what they say. Pride cometh before a fall.
"Lotty? Are you listening to me?" Alex waved a hand in my face and I couldn't help but smile a little.
"Of course," I nodded.
There was a shuffle of feet and the swoosh of a person's cloak; Alex and I both turned to see Claudia Gray coming down the dormitory steps. Her feet barely touched the final step before her cool blue eyes swept over the crowd of people in the room. They fell upon Isabella Perez, a finger wrapped within her dark hair and another finger sweeping down the length of Oliver's arm.
My face reddened. I wondered what was going to come next.
Isabella leaned into him, her lips almost touching his ear and she seemed to be whispering – her hand was still trailing up and down his arm. It was embarrassing to be in the room. It felt like I was intruding on a private moment for two – I supposed Claudia felt the same.
She did not stomp over and yank Isabella away from Oliver – after all, she had not made public claim over him and he had not suggested in any manner that he was interested in her. Claudia did something that made Alex gasp from beside me – she walked away. She picked up a book from a nearby desk and walked towards a corner to read silently.
"Did you expect that?" Alex whispered to me.
I pulled my eyes away from Claudia and shook my head.
"Me either."
There seemed to be a shift in the balance of the room. Claudia's friend, the blonde from breakfast, seemed to be staring at her in an awestruck manner. Two girls sitting beside Isabella bathed in the atmosphere – they turned to each other, smiling…no, gloating in their supposed victory.
"Oi," Oliver, who seemed oblivious to the changing atmosphere, called to me. "Are you free tonight? I really want you to help me study for tomorrow's Potion's exam."
"S-Sure." I caught the eye of Perez, and she raised an eyebrow in question as her two cronies put their heads together to discuss whatever was going on. "Library, after dinner?"
"Okay." He grinned.
"Don't be late this time."
"I won't."
"Charlotte?" I heard Alex ask. She hadn't used my full-first name in ages. "Why is Isabella staring at you like that?"
"Like what?" I avoided her eyes, turning my attention to the tapestry behind Alex's head.
"She did it, didn't she?" Alex had concluded the worst from my stutter. "You didn't trip…what did she do?" Her voice had lowered to an almost growl. "Charlotte!" She grabbed my arm, "What did she do to you?"
"Nothing."
"I'll ask Lupin."
"I didn't tell him anything…"
I had said it before I could even register it. Her eyes darkened and her cheeks flushed red. Alex's hands balled themselves up into fists and she started shaking.
"Alex…it really isn't a big deal…"
"S-She's sunken to this low? Bullying you because you're my friend?" Her voice shook with suppressed rage. "Why now? Why after five years? Why does she reemerge into my life now?"
"Alex…" I soothed, "It's okay. I'm okay. Everything's –"
"I hate her." Her voice cracked and her fists unclenched and when she looked up, her silver eyes were watery. "I hate her."
Before I could say anything else, Alex balled up her long sleeves and wiped hastily at her eyes. She stood up and fled the common room. I stared at the portrait hole, wondering what had happened to make her like this.
"Leave her be," A nonchalant voice told me. I turned to see Claudia Gray peering at me in a strange way. Her voice was cool – almost automatic and for once, she was looking at me rather than through me.
"What do you know?" I heard my voice saying, "You don't even like Alex."
Surprised, Claudia set down her book and walked over to me. "I don't have to like anyone to know what's best."
"Best for whom?" I inquired, "Best for you?"
"Best for Alex."
It was the first time I had ever heard Claudia refer to Alex as Alex. She rarely regarded us and now, hearing her use Alex's name so casually – well, it was just strange.
"You don't need to sit there and gape at me, Charlotte."
She knew my name too?
"Time may heal some wounds," She continued matter-of-factly. "But some are deeper than others." Claudia's clear, almost translucent eyes continued to remain blank but her voice suddenly filled with emotion. "She'll tell you when she's ready."
A/N: I suffered a terrible case of writers block for this chapter, so please excuse its suckiness. I know it's bad, but there's some crucial information in it. Also, please forgive the grammar mistakes - it's an un-beta'd chapter. My review box looks sad and empty - please fill it with your lovely reviews!
When the time came to go back to class, Alex still hadn't returned to the common room. I trooped off to Arithmancy, trying to pry off the blanket of worry that had wound itself around my body. Expecting to see Professor Vector behind her desk, I was surprised to only find my fellow classmates. Drew was sitting closest to the door and I set my mended bag on the desk behind him.
"I think she's fallen ill," He answered when I questioned where the Professor had gone. "We might not even have class today."
My heart leapt a little, "Do you think they'll provide a replacement for the time being?"
"It's a possibility," he turned his head and looked me in the eyes. His hazel eyes melted the worry off of me and I gave him a smile. Drew looked away and I felt my face warm. "Did you, um, finish the Arithmancy homework? I didn't fully…grasp the concept…"
"Yes, I did," I swiped haphazardly at a stray piece of my hair. "Would you like me to explain it?"
Drew tilted his face towards mine, our eyes meeting, "That would be much appreciated…"
Shyly, I approached his desk. He pulled out his Arithmancy book and I leaned over his desk to see the paper. Alex would have laughed – this terrible method of getting a boy to notice me, but even Cleopatra had to start somewhere.
He leaned back after sliding his book bag underneath his chair and we bumped heads. Drew's face pinked and my fingers trembled as I gripped the quill he handed me.
"Er, could I use your ink bottle?" My mind flashed to my own smashed bottle and I sighed. How was I supposed to do any work if I didn't have anything to write with?
"You can keep it." Drew said with a wave of his hand, "I've got too many." He then scratched his head hesitantly and said to the desk, "My mum and uncle own Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. I've got loads…"
"T-Thanks…" I vaguely recalled a short and stocky witch with frizzy blonde hair and warm hazel eyes. "Interesting name, Scrivenshaft's."
"I think my uncle made it up," Drew replied. "Foster's Quill Shop doesn't sound very professional, does it?"
With that, our conversation ended and I started to explain to him the qualities and magical abilities of the number thirteen. As I explained, my mind whirled and my senses seemed to be on overdrive. Every time he nodded his head, his brow slightly furrowed as I explained – I wanted to ask him where he had been the last couple nights at the library and why I hadn't seen him.
My senses seemed to drown in his scent when he tilted his head towards my face and studied the paper curiously. I wasn't being odd, I was just breathing, but I could smell him and he smelled enchanting.
"I think I get it now," He nodded. I exhaled the breath that I had been holding and glanced around the room. Professor Vector never came and the other students were using this time as study time too. "You're really great at explaining things…"
"Thanks…"
We looked awkwardly at each other and my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. Was it just me? Or was he really looking at me in such a manner? Was I going insane? Oh, Merlin! Will my heart simply stop working right about now? Was it possible for my heart to stop?
A smile curved onto his lips, "I'm sorry that I haven't introduced myself…"
"I'm Charlotte." I stuck my hand out and felt stupid when he stared at it.
"Drew," He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze.
I was sure that my heart was going to stop. My pulse skyrocketed and I felt my cheeks giving off heat again. We let go and I flexed my fingers uncertainly.
"It's odd," Drew laughed softly. "We've been in the same Arithmancy class all these years…and we've never been formally introduced."
My lips quirked themselves into a wide grin, "It's never too late."
At dinner, Alex, of course, had returned to her cheery self; she teased the twins, took extra helpings of food and even managed a pudding for dessert. She was, perhaps, a little too cheery.
Claudia's words came back to mind, echoing in my mind like a mantra that wouldn't leave. I wanted to grab Alex by the shoulders and shake her until she made sense. I wanted her to explain to me why she was acting like this.
"Are you quite alright, Lots?" George Weasley turned to me. I knew it was George, because Alex was too busy beating Fred with her spoon. "You've had that same expression since dinner started."
"What expression?" I asked vaguely. "I'm going to go." I stood up and then pointed to Alex. "Make sure she gets to the common room, will you?"
"Sure, but why–"
I never finished hearing what he was saying. It was fifteen minutes 'til seven and I let myself into the library. Madame Pince was lurking at her desk, moodily stamping books and setting them against the shelf. Surprisingly, Wood was already there.
He was sitting near the entrance, by a window. His hands were curled up around his face, pulling bits of his hair as his eyes scanned the Potions book before him.
"Alright, there?" I trooped by hesitantly. "I think I smell your hair burning."
"Hm?" Oliver glanced up. "Oh, yeah. I was trying to understand the concept of Jobberknoll feathers. This book doesn't really go into its properties and I think Snape explained it during class."
"Yeah," I sat down across from him. "I have my notes." I reached into my book bag and felt around for the scroll of parchment.
"So," Wood began casually. Too casually, in my honest opinion. "You know Isabella Perez?"
I froze.
"I saw her in the hallway outside of Potions…after you tripped…"
Why was he bringing this up? My cheeks began to flame with embarrassment. I had blushed more today than I have in my entire lifetime. I resumed rummaging through my bag.
"And I just was curious…if you two…talked…at all…"
His voice was hesitant and when I looked up at him, he had a rather sheepish expression on his face.
"No," I said finally. "I don't know Isabella Perez." I kept my voice level, casual but I think I came off cold because Oliver recoiled. How dense was this boy? If we were friends or even acquaintances, I wouldn't have been on the ground when he chose to walk towards the group.
"Ah," Wood said lightly, his fingers drumming the top of the desk.
"Ah, what?" My fingers closed around a tight bundle of parchment and I pulled it out. "Here are the notes." I handed them to him. "Jobberknoll feathers are particularly useful because they're important ingredients in Truth Serums and Sleep Potions. I suppose because when it dies, it lets out a scream that consists of every sound it's ever heard."
He winced, "I bet that's a dreadful sound."
"Bet it is." I returned matter-of-factly. "Snape says that they're really smart animals and that they're completely silent for their entire lives – it's just that single moment before they die that they scream."
"Too bad we haven't studied that for Care of Magical Creatures…"
"Kettleburn was an old coot." I fished around for the ink bottle that Drew had given me. "Though, I suppose Hagrid isn't any better."
"He's alright," Oliver defended. "He's got a…different style of teaching…"
"Fascinating," I retorted as I pulled out Advanced Potion Making. "There was talk in the common room about the book that was given to them." My right eyebrow shot straight up to my hairline. "The Monster Book of Monsters…a book that attacks the owner…"
"Just because his style isn't normal, doesn't mean that the class is pointless." Oliver had set down his quill and was staring at me in a most unusual way. "Or maybe, you're just too narrow-minded."
"Narrow-minded because I'm practical?" I inquired, setting the book on the table and maneuvering my body so that I was directly facing him, "Or maybe you're the one being narrow-minded as you quickly place judgment on me?"
"It's good to step outside of your boundaries," Oliver replied. I couldn't decide if he looked pleased, peeved, defeated or all three.
"I'd say the same to you," My eyes drifted away from his face and onto the cover of Advanced Potions. "It's like the kettle calling the plot black."
"I think you mean, the pot calling the kettle black…" he explained casually.
"I think you get the gist of the meaning," I retorted. "Though, correcting me does little for how I view you."
"And, how, if you don't mind me asking, do you view me?" Oliver queried, lifting up one of his brows up in question.
"Honestly?" I replied easily, my eyes lifting themselves from the text and meeting his eyes, "Most of the time, I think you're rather insufferable."
"Is that right?"
"Most of the time," I emphasized. "Although, you've proven that you're not a bad person."
He didn't reply to this, but instead, looked away from me and gazed out the window. I watched as he sat up straighter, placing both hands flat on the desk and sighed.
"I don't think you're rotten, like…" I was about to say Isabella Perez, but I bit my tongue as he brought his attention back to my words, "You're definitely not a bad person…er, your attitude is terrible, though…"
"You and I, we aren't very compatible," Oliver replied matter-of-factly. "The way you view the world and the way I view the world…are completely different. You think I'm insufferable most of the time…and, well, I think you're a bit of a snob."
Oliver made a face, running a hand through his hair as he looked up hesitantly. My fingers toyed with each other as I felt myself tense.
"You, you always act like you know everything," he plowed through the confession like a warrior. "Everybody else is beneath you – God, your ego is even bigger than mine…"
Ego? What ego? I wasn't even aware that I had one. My lip curled – I could feel the right side riding up into a sneer.
"Look," Oliver pointed to my face. "You've got the most indignant look on your face, Charlotte and just –"
"We're not getting personal," I replied. "Jobberknoll feathers are important in memory potions because they're known for having excellent memories. I already told you about the screams – everything else is in my notes. The other part of the test is identifying a truth serum before you're given it – that's also in the notes. I see that you don't need me tonight. Good luck tomorrow."
I threw everything back into my bag, swung it heavily over my shoulder and walked out of the library – my pride still stinging from his honesty.
"Wait!" He called after me, his footsteps echoing through the semi-empty library as he grabbed my arm to halt my walking, "No, I don't think you understand what I'm saying."
"Oh," The word came from my lips with a short breath. "I think I know exactly what you're saying. I mean, you pretty much just called me a snob and I called you an idiot – or, is there some underlying theme of how mean I am?"
"Listen," Oliver ignored what I said, again. "Even though we're not getting along because we're complete opposites, we should try and make it work." He cringed, almost as though I had raised a hand to slap him, "Wouldn't it be easier if we tried to get along? We must have something in common." Oliver gave me a hopeful look, his shoulders slumped – frankly, he seemed to have done a complete 180 on his personality; but, then again, I wasn't surprised. He had been undergoing many personality changes throughout the last couple days.
Or, maybe I had just been ignorant to his schizophrenia.
I took in a breath, maybe I should just take all his crap, teach him Potions and just never think about it for the rest of my life – it seemed like a decent thought, "Okay, Oliver. Let's give this another go, yeah?" I held out my hand, "'Lo, I'm Charlotte Murray. My best friend is Alex Clark and she's also the only person who really calls me Lotty – my best class is Potions and I enjoy doing Arithmancy."
Oliver grinned roguishly, "Oliver Wood, keeper. Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, friend of some, enemy of Slytherins and failure at Potions," He paused. "Well, I did pretty alright last year and an entire night of cramming helped me get an O on my fifth year O.W.L but, that method doesn't really seem to work anymore."
I couldn't help but give him a small smile. We had started off hitting another rough patch – our differences had once again shoved us on opposite ends of a spectrum but he had been willing to overcome it, whereas I had refused to admit it until he had confronted me about a truce.
Truce. A white flag. It felt like the right decision.
I gave a shaky laugh, "Again, I agree to a cease fire but still, I think you're okay for the test. If you need anymore help, feel free to find me in the common room or give me a shout, yeah?"
Oliver ran a hand through his hair and nodded, "Okay."
I went back to the Great Hall and as expected, found Alex and the twins still at the Gryffindor table. Unfortunately, she was still feigning a smile that didn't reach her eyes but she was laughing at something the Weasleys had said.
"You're back?" She inquired as I slid in besides her, "I thought Oliver would keep you there for ages." Her eyebrows waggled in a suggestive manner and I shrugged.
"You're ridiculous, Alex. He's not that thick." I reached for a chocolate pudding.
"Ohoho," She retorted. "Not that thick?" She reached over and shook me a couple of times, "Who are you and what have you done to the real Charlotte Murray?"
"Gagged and bound in the broom closet," I said through a mouthful of pudding – too bad it sounded more like: "Gakked amd bround en da room close-it".
"What?" Fred Weasley interjected, his face insanely close to mine, "Chew and swallow, Lots. Chew and swallow."
At this, he waggled his eyebrows at Alex, who waggled them back.
I stared at them with what was supposed to be a blank expression, but I supposed that they had misinterpreted it as something else, because they turned and gave me a wink.
There was a call and both Weasley twins ran over to their sibling (I could tell this because not only did he have the same brown eyes, his flaming hair gave him away. He didn't stand a chance.)
Alex leaned in, "You came back pretty early from tutoring Wood. Did something happen?"
I refused to look her in the eye, "You froze up pretty good when Isabella came charging back into the picture. Did something happen?"
Her mouth was quirked into a half-smile and I couldn't tell if she was making fun of me with her eyes but she just shrugged, "Yeah, something did."
"Is that why you dashed out of the common room?" I went on childishly.
"Yes, that was why," Alex nodded. "I went to the girl's lavatories and I cried, if you really must know."
Her words struck me – no, not because she cried, but because she was speaking so frankly to me. Alex's silver eyes stayed on my own the entire time and her lips were quivering as she bit down on them. Her face begged me not to ask for more – told me that I would know within time but I still needed more. I needed to understand her behavior (I guess I had chosen to ignore the need to understand my own behavior).
"Why?" I lowered my voice an octave, "What did she do to you?"
Even though Alex's bottom lip quivered and her face suddenly drained of color, she straightened her shoulder and looked me straight in the eye, "She put me on her black-list." Before I could question her more, she shook her head.
"Okay, fair enough," I found myself murmuring to her. "Oliver and I got into another row…" I admitted, "It was about something stupid, as usual, and I was just about to storm out of the library when he stopped me."
"Did he say something?"
"Yeah," I nodded, polishing off the rest of my pudding and settling the spoon down on the wooden table. "He said that we couldn't keep fighting like that…and that we needed to just…tolerate each other if we were going to make it through the year without jinxing each other."
"Ah," She nodded sagely. "Oddly enough, I find it somewhat funny that he was the one to see sense in this situation."
I thwacked her arm and shook my head, "I didn't know if I wanted to see sense…"
"Sense?" The Weasleys had returned, bouncing together like identical red balls, "You excrete sense, Lots."
"Thank you, George," I turned to say.
"Fred, actually," The redhead replied. "But yeah."
"Actually, no," Alex interrupted as she thwacked the boy on the shoulder. "It is George, he's just joking."
"We're always joking!"
And thus, another battle of wits began between Alex Clark and the Weasley Twins. (It would ultimately result in epic fail on the part of both parties – I'm completely neutral, of course.)
We were walking back to the common room when we saw Oliver walking up the stairs, Isabella beside him. The twins hooted softly (strange, right?) and nudged each other in the ribs while Alex's hands balled themselves into fists at her side.
"I don't understand why she pays him attention now," Fred commented to his brother. "She's never given him a single thought before?"
"Maybe he's more attractive now because he's so set on winning this year? Or there's always that rumor that he's been offered a spot on Puddlemere's reserve team…"
"What?" Alex asked slyly, "What is it?"
"Oh, you didn't know?" The twins looked dumbfounded, "Oliver's fancied the pants off of Isabella since third year!"
It suddenly made sense. The question that he had asked; the sideways look that he had given me…
"Oliver fancies Isabella!" I announced to the small group.
The three gave me such a look that I had to check to see if I had any pudding on my face.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," George cackled.
Alex gave a small smile – she was obviously too preoccupied with the fact that anyone could fancy Isabella.
"I wonder why she's paying him so much attention all of a sudden," Alex then cut in, surprising me. "You all saw them in the common room right? I wasn't going insane?"
"You're always insane, love," Fred winked.
"Please don't call me love," Alex retorted. "It makes me feel like I'm robbing a cradle."
The boys snickered.
"Did you ever think that it could be because he's gotten the offer from Puddlemere?" A cool voice interrupted, "After all, it is no longer a rumor but absolute truth."
We all turned, watching as Claudia Gray walked up the steps with her blonde friend in tow. I acknowledged her with a quick tilt of my head but Alex just stared straight on.
"So, she's after his soon-to-be-fame?" Alex suggested, her tone mocking, "Doesn't that sound familiar, Lotty?"
I blinked and looked at her. Merlin, I hoped that she wouldn't drag me into her battles.
Claudia remained composed, and shifted her weight onto the back of her right foot.
"I'm afraid that I don't know what you mean," The blonde replied, cautiously stepping in front of her friend. "You can't possibly be talking about Barrett James?"
There seemed to be a crack in Claudia's composed figure. I saw her shoulders shift downwards and her jaw suddenly clench.
Barrett James, whoever this boy was, seemed to be a sore spot for her.
"It seems," Claudia replied with an air of forced calm, "that we've both been mistaken in our information, have we not, Alex?"
"Apparently so," Alex retorted.
The twins shot me a look – I was surprised that they had been silent for so long.
"Sorry to interrupt," Fred jumped in. "There shouldn't be any bloodshed so soon after dinner," He gave the blonde a questioning look.
"Piper," She replied nonchalantly. "Piper Williams."
"Again," Claudia said to Alex. "It seems that we've gotten in our information backwards – it's true that I fancied Barrett James while he was at Hogwarts, but it was he who ended our relationship." Her face tightened, "It seems that fame went to his head easily and he thought that it would be better if we pursued…others."
"She's too damn cool about it all," Piper intruded. "If you want to know the honest to Merlin truth: she gave him her all, but it didn't stop him from chasing the skirts of other girls. He chucked her last holiday for a model."
Claudia was looking directly through Alex and seemed to be staring at one of the walls. Her eyes were clouded and her expression was unreadable.
"What about Wood?" George asked, outing the question that I had also wanted to known.
"We live by each other," Claudia replied. "He was kind, especially after Barrett chucked me in public." She winced as she said the word chucked, "I thought I had a chance with him – he's sweet, charming, a damned good quidditch player – I thought that, well, if he became as famous as Barrett…he wouldn't chuck me away like a discarded wrapper…"
"We've answered the rumors," Piper said. "It's your turn. Why on earth is your name hanging on Isabella's blacklist?" At questioned looks, she replied with a simple, "I share a dormitory with her – the list hangs on the wall above her bed and right at the top, it says in all capital letters: Alexandra Clark."
At Alex's pained expression, I felt my own need to barge into the conversation.
"True, you've answered all the rumors but I doubt that Barrett's chucking of Claudia can account for the traumatic past that Alex has had, thanks to Isabella." I said this quietly, my own voice building in volume, "What's we need to know, will be known soon enough. Alex will tell us when she's ready to, right?" I looked over at Claudia – after all, it was her that had told me this.
"It's true, Piper," Claudia said softly. "She will let talk when it's time."
Piper shrugged at her own best friend and gave us a semi-amused look, "It's true that we don't get along, and I bet that we don't have much in common anyway – but Alex, if you're willing to give our…acquaintance a chance, we're willing to side with you."
She spoke as though Isabella had declared war on Alex. She spoke as though her allegiance meant hundreds of troops, dressed and ready for battle. She spoke as though the very order of social hierarchy of Hogwarts was teetering on this war.
"We don't get along," Alex nodded. "We've never gotten along…" She looked over at Claudia, "A part of me says not to trust the either of you…but my gut says that I should."
The twins silently watched this with serious faces. I supposed that they had never seen Alex in such a strange mood but I must confess – neither have I.
"I've got Charlotte," Alex continued. "And now I've got the two of you…" She cocked her head to the right, "I only have a single question."
"Shoot," Piper replied, once again speaking for the both of them.
"What have you got to gain, by going against Isabella?"
Piper opened her mouth, but it was Claudia that replied. She turned her icy eyes on Alex's and tugged her lips into a faint smile, "Do you want to know what name she has as number two?"
The tension in that small corner of the staircase was so thick that I could have choked on it. I had watched this exchange as an outsider looking in – as though my soul wasn't attached to my body…I watched this exchange, this allegiance made as though I had not been there the entire time.
"Me." Claudia replied quietly, her eyes sparkling, "I'm number two."
A/N: *Gets down and grovels* I AM SO SORRY. VERY, VERY, EXTREMELY SORRY. Whoever said that senior year was going to be easy deserves to be poked with a spork! *Bribes with cookies* Please leave a review. I am so sorry. D: Chapter six will be up tomorrow.
Chapter Six: At Least I'm Not a Liar
25 February 2010: Edited for canon consistency
"Number two?" Alex's face had contorted itself into a look of confusion, "Why in Merlin's name would you be on her list?"
"It's a long story," Piper concluded, casting a look at her watch. "We should go up to the common room before McGonagall has all our heads." She started moving up the staircase, Claudia silently following and Alex turned her attention to me.
The twins put their heads together and whispered while my own head spun with confusion.
Claudia was on the list too? Why was Claudia acting so kindly towards us – me? Especially after she had spent six years ignoring our existence; was the name on the list a recent addition?
"I don't trust them, Lotty," Alex's silver eyes were clouded, unreadable and I scratched my head in thought.
"I don't see the logic lying to you." I replied honestly, "Though, I'm a little confused. The rumors are wrong? Wood really is going to be a Puddlemere Reserve member?"
"I suppose so," Alex replied. The twins had separated, their own expressions somewhat hidden behind identical smiles. "Let's head up. As much as I don't want to admit it, Piper's right. McGonagall would have our heads if we were out of the common room at a time like this."
"Sirius Black?" I inquired, "I don't think it'd be possible for him to get inside the castle, really. Do you know how many magical enchantments are surrounding this place? It'd be impossible to get in. Hogwarts is the safest place we can be right now."
We linked arms and quickly filed up the stairs before they shifted again.
"Isabella Perez…is she really this mean?" Fred asked, his voice trailing slightly behind as he and his brother followed us up towards the Fat Lady's portrait.
"Mean is a slight understatement," I noticed that Alex's voice continued to be guarded. She continued to refuse to answer the ever-present question of their previous relationship. "Isabella…she has minions in all houses – yes, even Hufflepuffs can be rude and cruel. She commands them exactly like a puppeteer commanding his puppets. She pulls strings of influence, making sure that she is always on top – that she is always the only person who knows…"
"Are they friends? Or purely minions?" I asked, noting that nothing had been said about friendship.
"Friendship, bah," Her voice was cold. "Isabella doesn't know friendship. True, a lion's heart burns within her chest – a seemingly true Gryffindor; courage turns into arrogance, arrogance turns into pride – she embodies the worse qualities of our house."
The twins added their own bit, "And we thought she was just strangely popular."
"Boys," Alex said softly. "Always so clueless."
"Would it do to warn Wood about her? It seems like the decent thing to do." George had a worried expression on his face, "It'd be terrible if she threw him for a loop. He might be completely nutters about quidditch, but he's a good bloke."
Remnants of our truce came back, the words echoing in my head until a small smile crawled onto my face.
Alex stomped on ahead, shouting the password, "Fortuna Major!"
I turned back to say something to the twins as I caught a snippet of conversation between the two, "So, this Isabella has a blacklist and Alex is on it – what would that mean? How long has she been on it? Why would she wait to react now?"
George shrugged, "I've never heard Alex speak a single word about her being friends with Isabella before – I didn't even know that they knew each other!"
I stepped through the portrait hole, feeling strangely confused. It had been a long time since I've stumbled upon such a problem. Most of my time at Hogwarts, I had but a single friend – Alex. Sure, occasionally, she would run off and chat with the twins or various other Gryffindors that she knew but rarely would they converse with me and when they did, I ignored them; I placed my studies over social interaction.
Truthfully, I didn't know if she could trust Claudia Gray and Piper Williams – I hadn't enough experience with people to know whom I could trust and whom I could not.
Alex curled up on the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest. I sat down besides her, my hands wringing themselves in my lap.
"I don't understand, Lotty."
"You?" I couldn't help but laugh, "I'm as lost as a person can be. I don't know what anyone's talking about."
"You'll agree when I say that the Gryffindor common room isn't a very big place, right?"
I glanced about the cozy room. A fire was crackling merrily in the hearth and the rug underneath our feet was crimson and striped with gold. The sofa that we were sitting on was warm; the light flickered because of the various candles in the room. In its entirety, yes, the common room was small – but it was all that we needed.
"Sure."
"How is it that for the last four or five years, I've never crossed paths with her. I've shared one or two classes with her but she's always ignored me; turned her nose up at my face or refuse to acknowledge my existence. It wasn't until today that she decided to reemerge…"
"Maybe it's all just a trick of fate?" I suggested, "It's all pure coincidence."
"I knew Isabella – or Bella, as she's known by her friends – well enough to tell you that nothing is coincidence when it comes to that girl."
The firelight reflected itself in Alex's grey eyes as she pulled her knees closer and rested her chin on top of them. She gave a sigh, ran a hand through her blonde hair and shook her head.
"I need to stop thinking about it. I need to stop going back and trying to rewrite the past. I need to move forward, right? I need to just, relax. Go with the flow. Not think about any of this. There is no Isabella or blacklist or Claudia. There is only you, me, the fire…and the future."
"Wise," I commented wryly, "I didn't think you had a philosophical part of you."
She gave me a crooked smile and softly punched me in the arm, "I surprise myself, sometimes."
The next morning, we were graced with the first rain of school year. I awoke to the sound of dripping water against the smooth panes of glass. Alex already was up, her pale face pressed against the glass.
I had forgotten how much she loved the rain.
"It smells so good," She breathed in the wet air and gave a happy sigh. Alex was definitely in better spirits this morning than the previous. "A good rain is lovely." She gave a little dance as the droplets continued to pelt against our black cloaks. "It's cleansing, always washing away the dirt and leaving us reborn – fresh."
"More philosophy this morning, young lady?" I rolled my eyes, "I'm starting to worry about you!"
"Bully you," She replied, giving me a light shove.
"Who are you and what have you done to Alex?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday!" Alex exclaimed as we made our way away from the Great Hall, "This week's felt so long." She stretched out her arms and grinned.
"Yes, but today's Friday," I responded. "I have a Potions test today."
"Ha, good luck on that." She grinned, "It's times like these that I congratulate myself on dropping Potions when I had the chance."
"Unlike you," I reminded her with a slight rolling of my eyes. "I happen to adore and be good at Potions."
"I don't know why you'd like that class," She retorted. "Snape isn't very fair to the Gryffindors. He never has and I doubt he ever will. He just has it out for all of us."
"He's been pretty fair to me," I commented, thinking back to all previous Potions classes. "I don't think he's ever bullied me or taken points from me. He usually doesn't talk to me, takes my potions, grades them and hands back homework – the only time he speaks to me is to ask why I've diverted from the directions, and that's it."
"Strange," Alex replied airily. "But then again, he's a very strange man, isn't he?"
I shrugged noncommittally. I didn't have issues with Professor Snape. He might have been unfair to some Gryffindors, a bully, even, but as long as my Potions grade remained an O – he was alright.
As we entered into the Great Hall, the sweet smell of breakfast and baked goods seduced our noses. I closed my eyes, already tasting the warm bread in my mouth and I was sure that Alex was dreaming about her damned kipper.
Alex had opened her mouth, poised to tell me something when our attention was drawn to Claudia. She was sitting next to Piper, who seemed to be reading her Defense Against the Dark Arts book but kept casting glances at the group of girls beside them.
There was a good reason to keep an eye on them, too.
Right as we walked up to the table, somebody's breakfast porridge came flying over and dumped itself all over Alex's body. She let out a loud groan as the soppy white mess poured down both cheeks. Clumps of it stuck to her hair and as I lifted up my wand to clean her up – I was hit with a bowl, too.
With a grimace, I felt the mush slide down my back. I closed my eyes, bringing up my sleeves to wipe away my cheeks when a First Year walked by with her glass of milk and very kindly dumped it on our heads.
Through the mess on my face, I managed to watch as the group of girls beside Claudia turned and dumped their food on her head too. Piper's wand was out, ready to hex the next girl when McGonagall stopped the rumpus.
I could hear her furious footsteps – the loud click-click of her heels against the stone floor. My face was on fire as she stopped in front of us.
"What is going on?" She managed sharply, "Is this how we Gryffindors behave? Is this how we treat fellow students?" With a wave of her wand, the porridge disappeared from our bodies but even though it was gone, our hair remained a sticky mass. "Detention! All of you!" I looked up to see McGonagall's nostrils flair dangerously as she turned to stride away, "Such behavior, especially in such times!" She muttered under her breath as she reached the Teacher's table.
"Are you alright, Lotty?" Alex asked meekly, her own face on fire.
"Quite alright," I managed with a grin. "No bruises, right?"
"No," She replied with a small smile. "No bruises…" We pulled out the bench and sat across from Claudia and Piper as they tried to clean out the stickiness from their hair. "Are you, alright?"
"Fine," Claudia said quietly. "It was to be expected, of course."
"First, breakfast foods," Piper went on bitterly. "Next, further humiliation." She was busily charming the rest of the gunk out of her friend's hair, "It's infuriating how pathetic Isabella is."
Alex cringed, "Let's never say her name again, yeah? I'd rather like to keep the contents of my stomach…digesting."
Piper gave a slight smile and with a final tug, told Claudia that the mess was gone.
"Would you like her to help you too, Charlotte? Piper's wonderful with hair."
"Ah, I think I've got it." I replied, my own wand pointed to my head, "Thank you for the offer, Claudia."
Alex silently began to help herself to some kipper. The silence wasn't too offending – it was actually rather nice. I had never taken the time to examine bits of Claudia's personality and for the first time, I found her silence more welcoming than irritating; her lack of speech didn't seem cold anymore, in fact, it made her a more…observant individual.
So, we were really acquaintances now. We were really forced to bond with each other over a rather ridiculous ordeal of social standings.
All in all, it was safe to say that I was still confused – but Claudia and Alex seemed to know what and why this was happening.
I looked at Piper, who stared at her book until her eyes were forced to blink.
We were a rather ragtag group of individuals.
The Potions test was everything that I had studied for. I filled out the questions easily and answered my essay correctly. I described Jobberknoll feathers and their usefulness as well as the lifestyle of the bird. My essay was about to reach epic proportions when Snape called time.
With a swish of his wand, all the parchments curled themselves up and landed up on his dusty desk with a soft thump. He said nothing but clasped his hands together.
"I think I did well," Oliver said to me when Snape had turned away. "Your notes were a God-send. Thank you."
"You're welcome," I gave a small smile. "I'm glad that I'm helping you in some sort of way. I must admit, it's been a couple terrible days – we got off on a wrong foot…"
"Very much so," He agreed.
We were plunged into silence and I fidgeted with the end of my sleeve, still stained with bits of porridge.
"Are you going to the match, Charlotte?" He asked awkwardly.
"Match?"
"You know, the Quidditch match." Oliver replied, "It's between Gryffindor and Slytherin…" He added hastily.
"I don't know, honestly," I replied slowly. "I've never been to a match and I still have to finish that essay for Charms…"
"Ah, of course." Oliver scratched his head nervously, "Maybe you can come watch – if you finish early, that is."
"I'll consider it," I replied with a small smile. "But, if I do, I'll just tell you right now…I don't understand a bit of quidditch."
Oliver looked as though he had been slapped.
"You don't know anything about quidditch?"
I shook my head and began to gather up my belongings – the bell had rung.
"Are you mad?"
I chuckled slightly "That's what Alex says."
"Quidditch…quidditch…it is the most releasing, uplifting and challenging sport." Oliver began, looking wildly animated as he swung his bag over his right shoulder, "The rush you get when you're flying through the air – or for me, when I'm rushing towards the quaffle, trying to catch it and throw it back towards the Chaser…"
"Sounds a bit reckless," I admitted. We were almost out the door.
"It's dangerous," He agreed. "Some have even died playing it…" Oliver silently contemplated this as we crossed the threshold, "But I'd gladly give up my life playing a sport I love."
To myself, I silently believed him to be the most foolish, stupid boy I had ever met – not so much stupid, as in, not smart but stupid, as in making dumb decisions. To die while playing sport? I thought him kidding.
"When is it?" I shifted the books in my hands a bit.
"November 6," Oliver replied.
I was about to respond with how lovely it would be if I could go, but I was interrupted when Elise Davenport stopped in front of me and turned to give Oliver a grin.
"Isabella's waiting for you, Ollie. She can't wait to see you."
Without even saying good-bye to me, Oliver nearly floated off his feet as he trailed after the blonde.
"Bye?" I said to the air, once again shifting the books and turning the corner away from the `classroom. I climbed up the stairs and nearly collided with a tall person. "I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, "I didn't mean to be so clumsy…" I fumbled and held out my hand to help the person up.
"Charlotte!" The boy said as he gripped my hand, "Fancy meeting you here."
I nearly fainted when Drew looked me in the eyes and gave me a smile.
"I-I'm really sorry…for knocking you over…"
"It's fine," He waved it off with a grin. "I wasn't looking where I was going, so it's really my fault. Here, let me help you with the books."
Before I could protest, Drew had bent forward and had gathered up all the books. He kept them in his arms, I noted, not handing them back to me.
"Where are you headed?"
"The Gryffindor Common Room," I replied.
"I'm headed towards the Astronomy tower," He noted. "I'll walk you."
And that is how I found myself walking beside Drew Foster while he held my books, talking rather animatedly about his fondness for Transfiguration.
"I'm starting to regret dropping it," I told him as we reached the Fat Lady's portrait.
"Good," He replied with a slightly serious tone. "We could have had another class together."
Was it me? Was he honestly giving me that look? Drew's eyebrows were drawn together in that serious air that I loved so much. His slightly thin lips were open and his cheeks were a pink in exercise.
"I would have liked that," I replied softly. "I would have liked it very much."
Our eyes locked in that moment and I felt my heart pumping at a thousand times a second. I felt as though it were to explode.
Drew cleared his throat and gave me a smile, "I fear that I need to leave you, now, Charlotte." He carefully handed me back my books, "Maybe, I'll see you at dinner?"
"One of my favorite meals," I called out as he turned to walk away.
I mumbled the password to the portrait and glumly climbed through. I couldn't believe that I had just called out something completely random to Drew. Yet, even though my expression was slightly glum – my heart was still hammering excitedly.
Nothing could have stopped my happiness – Drew had acknowledged me. He had talked to me. Merlin, he had even walked me back to my common room and held my books! Nothing could have ruined the day for me.
Not even when a Fanged Frisbee ripped past and slammed into my head.
Piper found us by the fireside. Her hair was matted with purple paint but her expression was shockingly calm.
"That Isabella is going to regret ever crossing paths with me," She told us sharply. "That girl is going to regret ever putting my name on that blasted list of hers."
"Whoever made her the damned Queen anyway?" I muttered, "She seems to be commissioning the younger ones to attack."
"Perhaps she's losing her sway with the older crowd," Alex suggested, her eyes still glued to the burning fire. "Which means that they've gotten wise to her workings."
"Are you suggesting something, Clark?" Piper questioned.
"Where's Claudia?" I interrupted.
"She'll be coming along shortly," Was the response. "She's washing out the paint in her hair."
"Attacked by balloons filled with paint?" Alex sighed, "At least I know what we're going to be attacked with, right?"
I shrugged and Piper continued with her inquiring, "What do you mean when you say that the older crowd has gotten wise to her workings?"
Alex snapped back to attention, her silver eyes drifting away from the fire, "I mean that they must start to question her authority – or lack thereof."
"Which means that she's weak on that side, yeah?"
I attempted to wrap my head around what Alex was saying. In some parts, it made sense. Sure, Isabella might think that she had a large amount of sway with the Hogwarts population, but I guess, in reality, she really didn't (at least, not with the older students). However, in other parts – I felt that Alex was getting ahead of herself.
"We can't automatically assume that she's weak on that side, just because she lacks support," I cut in. "I mean, sure, she doesn't have sway over their opinions but it doesn't mean that she can't get it…"
"True…" Piper's eyes lowered as the Claudia stepped through the portrait hole and approached cautiously.
Oddly, I had begun to notice that whenever Claudia did something, it was always with caution. She might have been obnoxious, that one day with Oliver in Charms, but I really doubted that that was who she really was.
"It was a mess," She replied apologetically. "Apparently, they were told to drop balloons filled with purple paint all over us in as we made our way back from class."
As usually, she said this in her cool, matter-of-fact voice and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. Alex shrugged, her defenses still up against our two 'allies'.
I could almost read Claudia's response to Alex's cold greeting. She said nothing but gave Alex a look – it was almost understanding, almost one of comprehension but most of all, it read very clearly: you don't trust me, yes, I understand this – but, Alexandra, at least, I'm not a liar…
"Again," Piper began. "Now that Charlotte's addressed the logical aspect of this new notion, how do we fight back?"
"Can we attempt to sway the sixth and seventh years, then?" Alex questioned, her eyes meeting mine.
"We can't be the only ones that she doesn't like," Claudia stated. "There's got to be more of us – more people that hate Isabella."
"We just need to find them," Piper said loudly. "Brilliant, you two; we need to kick Isabella off her high horse and maybe kick some sense into her…"
"Violence," I answered with a small smile, "never solves anything."
"I'm not going to bludgeon her with a beater's bat," Piper replied. "Even though she bloody deserves it."
Claudia gave her friend a closed-lip smile.
"How much more of her abuse do you think they're going to dish out?" I managed, imaging how awful it'd be to talk to Drew and then have a balloon full of paint explode on my head.
"Lotty," Alex's voice was painfully calm. "This is war, absolute war."
We had decided to meet on Saturday morning to complete a Potions essay together. I made my way through the massive crowds and had somehow managed to escape without losing a limb. Oliver was waiting by the window, his chin tucked on his upturned palm; he looked as though he was lost within a dream.
"Hi," I said awkwardly as I approached.
He seemed to snap out of it, the sparkle in his eye fading as he turned to face me.
"Hi," He returned.
"Are you ready, then?" I said, taking a seat and ducking into my bag so he wouldn't see my grimacing face. I hated small talk, "Snape asks for two and a half rolls of parchment, but I think a little less is alright."
"He has it out for me, I swear," Oliver replied. "Especially since we're most likely going to play Slytherin in the finals."
"Oh, yes, of course…" I nodded, with you, it's always about quidditch….
We both flipped to the noted page in Advanced Potion Making and began scribbling. The awkward silence lasted a whole five minutes when Oliver coughed.
"So, Charlotte," He interrupted my scribbling with a tried-smile. "What's your favorite color…"
"Blue," I said automatically. "Blue, like the ocean." I thought of my Grandmother's house by the sea and how the waves lapped onto the sand, erasing away all that had been scribbled there before…
"Blue, like the sky! I like red," Oliver nodded and pointed to his Gryffindor jumper.
Always with the quidditch… I thought.
"Honestly, it's more crimson than red…" I began but when his eyebrow raised slightly, I stopped, "But, nonetheless, red is a lovely color…"
We were plunged into silence.
"So," I continued, attempting to avoid the realm of 'small talk'. "What are your plans after Hogwarts?"
"Quidditch," Oliver said almost immediately. "Puddlemere United – going to fly until I'm no longer able to; I suppose I could manage, too, but mostly, I want to soar across the sky like a bird…" The twinkle appeared in his eye again, briefly, but disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, "What about you?"
"Ministry job, I suppose…" I generated the most boring and stupid answer on the face of the earth, "Mum wants me to be an Unspeakable…says I've got the qualifications…"
"And do you…?" Oliver inquired.
"Do I?"
"Have the qualifications." He clarified.
"I suppose…"
"And your Mum wants you to do this?"
"Yes…and Dad too, but mostly, he just lets Mum do whatever she wants…"
Oliver set down his quill, narrowed his eyebrows and leaned towards me. With a dead-pan expression and an overly serious voice, he asked, "And, Charlotte, what do you want to do?"
You see, I never got to answer that question. Hell, I didn't even get a chance to think about answering it because at that very bloody moment, a cheery red balloon floated over our table and exploded over my head.
And yes, right in front of Oliver…I became a giant sodding green monster with red hair.
Oddly enough, the balloon didn't faze me as much as the question. With violent green paint dripping down into my robes and ultimately staining my parchment, I blinked, rubbed my eyes cautiously and gave Oliver a stare.
He looked somewhat disturbed and shocked but the crinkles around his eyes suggested that he was holding back laughter.
"I-I," My lips, coated with that disgusting paint, opened and closed like a goldfish's and then the answer came: "I don't know…"
Authors Note: YAY, UPDATING! Still, I'm really, really, really sorry for the delays. You don't even know how bad I feel. Again, I shall attempt to bribe you with food: take some gingerbread men, they don't mind if you bite their heads off :)
Actually, you could probably even eat my soul and I'd still feel terrible. Please, please, leave a review. You all are so wonderful ♥ !
Chapter Seven: Swim to Brighter Days
I found that Oliver's words continued to stay with me. They haunted my dreams, forcing me to contemplate my future – would I follow the path that my mother had laid out for me? Or would I carve out one for my own?
"Earth to Charlotte…" Oliver waved a tan hand before my eyes, attempting to catch my attention. "Charlotte…are you alright?" He snapped, causing me to focus on his large hands.
"I'm fine." I replied, blinking a few times to clear my sight. "Just a couple things on my mind."
"Yeah, I can tell." Oliver's brows were furrowed in thought and I gave him a smile.
"Do you have any questions on the essay we're working on?"
Twelve inches of parchment on the Wolfsbane potion – Oliver had come to me, desperate for help. Apparently, that boy does not pay attention in Potions. But then again, if he did, I wouldn't be tutoring him to start with.
I glanced over the thick Advanced Potions textbook to see that on the other side of Oliver's parchment, he had scribbled down a Quidditch play. I raised an eyebrow, "I see you've had some things on your mind, as well."
"Well, the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch match is a little more than a week away." He fiddled with the edge of his untied tie. "I've been studying for Potions, still, as you can see, but we've been having 5 AM practices every day. I'm not sleeping much…" He stifled a yawn with his right hand. "And I don't think my team's been too pleased with having to wake up so early – sometimes, we practice before dinner, too…"
I nodded. "Well, I hope all this practicing does some good next Saturday?"
Oliver grinned. "Of course! This is the best team Gryffindor's ever had!" And then his excitement turned into something else as he placed both of his hands, palm-first, upon the desk. "Though, not just Quidditch has been on my mind, though…"
Oh, Merlin! God-forbid Oliver thinks about something else besides Quidditch! Please note that the sarcasm is absolutely dripping from my voice right now. I don't think I could be more sarcastic…
"This Sunday's the first Hogsmeade trip…and I'm a bloody wreck about my date with Isabella." His fingers drummed against the wood. "I mean, what do I talk about with her? What do I say? Oh, Merlin, what if I mess up?"
I don't know what on earth turned this hour into heart-to-heart with Charlotte Murray, but I listened, anyway. I set down my quill, widened my eyes and pretended that the name Isabella didn't give me hives.
"Charlotte, you're a girl…"
"Yes, you're quite the keen observer." I replied dryly.
"What is it that girls…"
"Yes?" I prompted with a sigh.
"What do blokes do that…bother you? I mean, like, what do you think is an absolute date-killer?" Oliver looked so nervous and so attentive that I wanted to laugh – why couldn't he be as attentive in Potions?
"Honestly, I wouldn't know…seeing as I've never been on a date, before," I replied truthfully, "though, I do know that Alex has classified her dates as 'duds' before…"
Oliver looked hopeful. He looked as though someone had told him that Quidditch season had been extended year-round.
"She complained about this one bloke, apparently, he kept talking about himself…I suppose that would annoy me too – anyone that's supposedly too full of themselves…"
"Maybe he was too nervous to talk about anything else?" Oliver was gripping his quill. "Er, I'll make note."
"But, why are you asking me, Oliver? Haven't you been on Hogsmeade dates before?"
"Yes…but never with someone I liked this much." Oliver said slowly. "I mean, I liked the girls – they were alright – but I mean, I've fancied Isabella for so long! It seems a bit surreal to me."
"Will it be too cliché of me to say that you ought to just be yourself?" I cocked my head to the right, taking in his expression curiously. "I honestly don't have enough experience to really help much."
"Ah, yeah," he looked disappointed, "if you happen to think of anything else…you'll let me know, right?"
Maybe the Hufflepuff bone in my body was twitching or something magical was happening because I found myself agreeing – why on earth would I care enough about the either of them to help him out? I supposed I was just being nice. "I could ask Alex for you, if you'd like."
"That'd be great!" Oliver leapt up and grasped my hands off the desk. "You're wonderful, Charlotte!"
Okay, maybe I did it because I knew that my ego would get a nice boost. After all, who doesn't like to be told that they're wonderful?
"Anyways, I need to get going." He had glanced at the massive clock hanging above Madam Pince's desk. "I've got practice in about an hour and I said that I'd meet Isabella before that." He gathered up his things, and departed, waving at me all the while.
A sigh escaped my lips and I found myself resting my cheek against my Potions book. The smooth pages felt nice against my skin and I closed my eyes for a moment.
Someone clearing their throat helped me sit straight up in embarrassment.
"Is this seat taken?" Drew was hovering over where Oliver had been just a few moments ago. It looked like he had just apparated into that spot – if you know, one could actually apparate into Hogwarts.
"N-no!" I said a little too quickly, shaking my head dramatically. "I was just working on my Potions essay…"
"Tutoring Oliver Wood?" Drew sat down swiftly, setting down his heavy book bag and Arithmancy book. "I didn't know that he had made it into the N.E.W.T's class for Potions…"
"Yeah, well," I found myself saying, "stranger things have happened."
"Very true." Drew nodded seriously before flipping open his book.
I thought that this was all going to turn out to be a dream and I even pinched myself for good measure. But no, Drew was tangible – sitting just across the desk from me. His brows were knitted together in seriousness and his glasses rested on the tip of his nose. I longed to reach across and push them up. My fingers itched and they inched closer before I caught myself. His startling blue eyes glanced up right as I was stopping my hand.
He smiled.
And I fan-girled. I died on the inside. A bit of my soul went up to heaven. Sweet Circe, I had never seen such a sweet smile in my entire life. I felt as though my body was trembling.
Maybe it was.
"Are you cold, Charlotte?" Drew was talking to me. Asking me this. Looking as though he were truly concerned for my well-being. Lustful Zeus! I have died and gone to Charlotte-heaven. Maybe being nice to Oliver was worth it if this was the reward?
I think I trembled again, I'm not really sure.
Drew was out of his seat, draping his cloak over my shoulders and when he sat down again, his cheeks were slightly pink. If he looked slightly pink, then I knew my face was probably was red as Fred and George Weasley's hair.
We worked in silence, but I squealed on the inside. We'd reach for a stray piece of parchment at the same time, and our fingers would touch; we'd look at each other, pull away shyly and he'd insist that I'd take it because he didn't really need it.
I felt like Lady from Lady and the Tramp – except, we weren't kissing and we weren't sharing a plate of spaghetti.
"The Arithmancy lesson today was pretty interesting, don't you think?" Drew was making conversation, his eyes determinedly avoiding mine.
"Y-yes," I stuttered, my hands wrinkling the bottom of my parchment. I looked up quickly and saw his furious scribbles. "I adore Professor Vector – I think she's rather brilliant."
"I like her loads more than Professor Lupin."
This sentence snatched my attention away from our cute, little Charlotte-Drew moment.
"What's wrong with Professor Lupin? It seems as though everyone raves about him."
"He always looks a little sickly," Drew commented, still preoccupied with his homework. "And although the class itself, is rather interesting, I'm wondering if it's alright to be learning some of the things that we are…"
"Are they not Ministry-approved?" I had set down my quill, my full attention on this conversation.
"Well, they're Dumbledore-approved," he had replied, a tone of disapproval in his voice. "You see, the Third Years are learning more about creatures than they are about actual defense against Dark Arts." He explained. "I think that creatures should be left to Care of Magical Creatures…but you know, the new Professor – Hagrid, he's…"
"A little unqualified to be teaching?" I suggested.
"Sure." Drew dotted an 'i' furiously. "I'm glad that I dropped that class. I don't think I'd be able to pass the N.E.W.T for it with his shoddy teaching."
"I dislike his methods, myself," I agreed. "However, I don't think Dumbledore would have given him the job if he did not think that Hagrid was suited to it."
"Do you remember the Dragon-fiasco two or three years ago?
"No, I'm afraid I don't recall."
"Hagrid had somehow acquired a dragon-egg – a real, living and breathing dragon hatched from it, too. It seems as though he wanted to keep it as some sort of a pet!"
"Alright, that sounds a bit more familiar…"
"And this year…a couple of weeks ago, a Third Year was telling everyone about how a Hippogriff had mauled that Malfoy boy. Can you believe it? A bloody Hippogriff…"
I had no comments to this. Although I disliked the Malfoy boy's sniveling face and his arrogance about being a Slytherin, I felt as though the Hippogriff would have been an interesting subject to learn about. On the other hand, I didn't want Drew to think that I was…bluntly disagreeing with him…
We worked in silence until dinner.
"You're such a patient person, Charlotte." Drew said out of the blue. We were walking towards the Great Hall for dinner. He was so close to me; I could feel the warmth radiating from his arm.
"No, I'm really not…" I was quick to contradict.
"How else could you put up with tutoring Wood?" There was another note of disdain in his voice that I had never noticed before. "Doesn't he bore you with his constant chatter of Quidditch? Such a stupid sport, if one could really call it a sport to begin with."
"It's alright." I replied. "We mainly work in silence – and he only speaks to ask me questions…" Okay, so, I lied about that part. But talking about Wood like that, made me uncomfortable.
"Well, I'm glad to have bumped into you at the library." Drew said before we entered the Great Hall. "You always provide such stimulating conversation." He gave me another gentle smile and for a moment, he looked troubled. "Hopefully, I'll see you tomorrow, as well?"
"We will be seeing each other in Arithmancy, too, won't we?" I asked, confused as to what he meant.
"Yes, we will…" Drew straightened his glasses and fumbled with them for a moment. "Um, good-bye, Charlotte." He pulled open the door for me before quickly side-stepping me and walking towards the Ravenclaw table.
I stared after his retreating back, slightly confused. We always saw each other in Arithmancy, which meant that we always saw each other…What did he mean when he said that he hoped to see me tomorrow
"We saw you chatting with Drew." Alex said in a sing-song voice. "Spill, Lotty!"
Piper looked amused as she helped herself to some potatoes. "He looked flustered – don't tell me you've rejected him."
"Rejected him?" I was appalled. "I don't think I could ever reject him! He and I…we're like two peas in a pod. We're…"
"A couple made in geek-heaven." Alex replied with a wink. "Adorable. I've never seen you gush about a boy, before."
"I would have gushed to you about him before, you know, but that was always sort of a secret…"
"Meaning, if I hadn't stumbled upon you stalking him in the library…"
"Hush!" I held a finger up to my lips and looked around anxiously. "Today's been a wonderful day! I only got a little paint in my hair and I don't really want anything else thrown or tossed at me…so if we could all just stay low key…"
"Well, I hope you don't mind that I had a nice little chat with one of Drew's friends." Piper added conversationally.
It was strange, how easily the distrust had disappeared (for me, anyways). I saw that Alex's brow was slightly creased, but besides that, she looked completely at ease.
"I think he's going to ask you go Hogsmeade."
"He's not!" I exclaimed, my cheeks hot again. "Don't get my hopes up…" I filled my plate with food. "What did you talk to his friend about, anyway?"
"Not really talking…" Piper said cheekily, "more like snogging…"
I nearly dropped the plate I was holding.
"I'm only joking," she sighed. "He's in my Divination class. I believe his name is Richie Jones and he's dorm-mates with your beloved Drew."
"He isn't my beloved Drew…" I muttered, my cheeks flaming again.
Claudia was silent, as usual. She ate her meal with a frosty expression, her clear eyes darting between the doors of the Great Hall and us.
There was giggling as the door opened and Oliver and Isabella walked in. She was saying something to him that made him smile, clinging to his arm like spello-tape. They walked past us and I thought for a moment, Isabella and Claudia's eyes locked.
If it was possible for frost to shoot from Claudia's eyes and freeze Isabella, I believe that girl would be a walking popsicle. Though, lucky enough for her, it was highly improbable that ice would beam from Claudia's light blue eyes.
"Have you decided to go to the Quidditch game, Lotty?" Alex inquired, licking her spoon exaggeratedly.
"Probably not," I replied honestly. "Drew doesn't like Quidditch…"
"So?" She raised an eyebrow, "He isn't going to hate you if you decide to go to a game…"
"I don't understand Quidditch anyway," I retorted, "I'll only be a bore and be a third-wheel to your fun."
"Is that how you feel?" Alex mock-sniffed, "Such tragedy! Woe is me!"
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Piper said wisely, setting down her fork with relish. "Come to the game, Charlotte! It'll be fun."
"No…" I shook my head. "I get enough Quidditch-talk from Oliver. I don't know if I really want to see the game…besides, there's always homework to do. I'd rather complete it before it's due and not have it hanging over my head for the weekend…"
"You're ridiculous, Lotty," Alex sighed. "Will you at least go to Hogsmeade with me on Halloween?"
"I don't know…" I muttered, shrugging my shoulders. "You know that I rarely go."
"And yet, I ask anyways…" she gave me a puppy-dog look, "please?"
I didn't get a chance to respond, because at that moment, our brief moment of calm was interrupted when a plate of mashed potatoes came flying my way.
"She's a scoundrel." Piper was complaining. "I don't understand why friends are targeted, too; no offense, of course, Claudia."
Claudia was drying her wet hair, the frosty look still adorned on her face. She shrugged her shoulders at her friend and looked at the mirror.
"You've been awfully silent." Alex commented, although I couldn't help but notice the accusatory tone in her voice. I supposed that Alex just wasn't used to the fact that Claudia wasn't as big of a witch as we had previously thought.
"No, I haven't." Claudia's clear voice startled me. The frosty expression was gone, replaced with a warm smile that tugged at your heart-strings. "I've just had nothing to say."
She set down her towel and reached for the brush. With a wave of her wand, her hair was dry and she dragged the hairbrush through her soft, brown colored hair.
"I have a question," I said to the general group. "Hypothetically speaking, what would one do if the boy she fancied actually did ask her to Hogsmeade? Would it be right to ditch her morals at the door and agree, or would one need to refuse him out of practicality?"
Alex had her mouth hanging open. Piper started chuckling and even Claudia turned away from the mirror with an expression of stunned silence.
"Why the bludgers would you reject him?" Alex inquired, her eyes looking as though they were going to burst from their sockets.
"Of course you'd say yes!" Piper encouraged. "He'd pay for everything; it'd be a proper date, too. You can end with a quick peck on the lips…" She droned on.
"Whatever you think is best, Charlotte," Claudia said with another gentle smile. "If you think it improper to ditch what you believe for a quick date with a boy, then feel free to reject him. However, if you believe that you will regret the former decision, then say yes – what's there to lose?"
"Besides my pride?" I sighed.
"I think he fancies you." Piper said, stubbornly. "At least, Richie thinks so."
My cheeks turned bright red.
"He says that they're not allowed to talk about you, because Drew will get flustered and drop whatever he's holding." She nodded smartly. "If that doesn't sound like someone fancying you, I don't know what does…"
"Ah, to be naïve again," Alex teased, "to be young and finding love for the first time…"
"But," I couldn't help but contradict, "you haven't found first-love, either, Alex…"
She shrugged her shoulders and her silver eyes danced. "When it happens, it happens."
At the mention of first-love, Claudia's face pinched up. Her pale cheeks became stained with red and for a moment, she looked as though she was going to cry. Piper, taking notice of this immediately, reached out for Claudia's hand.
"Barrett James…" Piper whispered to us, her brows scrunched together in worry.
Alex looked skeptical. Even I had my doubts; how was it that he could be considered Claudia's first love? It didn't seem to make much sense.
Claudia gathered up her wits and released Piper's hand. She took in a deep breath and brushed aside her bangs before turning to look at us. "Let's return to the dormitory."
We said good-night to Piper, wishing her well as she departed to the room she shared with Isabella and three other girls.
At breakfast, along with the daily delivery of the Prophet, came the mail. I was in the middle of helping myself to breakfast when our family owl landed on the table, sticking its foot out for me to retrieve the letter.
"Thanks, Flynn," I told the creature as it gave a soft hoot and departed. The letter felt thick, and I couldn't help but frown. It only meant that my mother had written to me an entire list of complaints; on the other hand, underneath those complaints, my father would sneak in extra notes of encouragement. It made wading through my mother's complaints worthwhile.
"Letter from the mother-figure?" Alex queried, her mouth full of eggs. I nodded. "I wonder what she's written to you to complain about, this time…"
Piper looked envious. "I live with my Great-Aunts, they rarely write me. I never return home for the holidays, either."
Claudia gave me a serene smile, her pink lips pulled upwards and her light eyes reflecting the sunlight merrily.
You see, my parents were…strange. My mum was a witch and my father was a Muggle. I don't know how their marriage worked, or why they even got married – but, they did and it's a wonder that they stay together. My mum liked to complain – about everything. The water was too hot, and then it was too cold. The weather was too cool and misty for her liking; my room was not clean enough; my father's job did not pay enough. She was tired, her bones ached, my grades were insufficient, I should have been a Ravenclaw with my brains…
It was a never ending cycle of complaints. I don't know how my father dealt with it, honestly. He usually plopped himself down in front of the television with a cold beverage and pretended that he couldn't hear his wife's complaints.
And to top it off, they slept in different beds…that were in the same room.
I was an only child and my mother's only way to reach a higher standard of living. Ever since I was little, she pushed me to strive towards a Ministry job. An Unspeakable, she realized, was the only job for me. I think even now, I continued to strive only because it was what my mother wished – I had never really considered what I had wanted.
"Dearest Charlotte," I began to read to Alex, my voice mocking my mother's high-pitched and bossy tone. "Things have been well at home. Your dad got fired, though, which meant that I had to take on three more shifts at my job." I rolled my eyes. "I don't see how things could be well if dad was fired…"
"Maybe, she doesn't want you to worry?" Alex suggested.
I shook my head. "I hope that you're avidly studying for your N.E.W.T.'s; remember that they are the important determining factor in your future career as an Unspeakable. You're overly qualified for the job, my dear, and I'm sure you'll soar through the ranks quickly. One day, you will be able to care for your poor, overworked mother and provide for us as we've provided for you.
I hope you have been using your time wisely! Remember, practicality is the key to success! Also, if you have time, make sure you find a nice boy that will help provide for your family – someone more reliable than your father. There's time for love, later, right now, seek one that is financially stable and all your troubles will subside."
"I'm glad your mother is seemingly selling you out for a bag full of Galleons…." Alex replied. "I don't know if Drew is qualified enough to be considered a 'financially stable' male for your future."
"Hush!" I cried out, shaking my head. "My mum constantly complains about my dad. He isn't helping out, or he's too lazy. It's impossible to try and figure out why they ended up married…"
"Stranger things have happened…" Piper commented, interested. "It's a pity that your mum is telling you to marry out of financial stability rather than love."
"And, you'd agree to it, too…" Alex added. "Which is just slightly depressing."
"Just slightly." Piper agreed.
"Marriage doesn't just require love," Claudia piped up, quietly. Her voice was cold, and I felt as though someone had pushed me into a freezing lake. "It takes more than love to make a match." She stood from the table, a white envelope in her hand. "If you'll excuse me." She departed.
"Strive for happiness, Lotty!" My friend exclaimed, her blonde hair bobbing. "Strive for…the sunlight, like a plant, reaching out its leaves…"
"That analogy sort of failed." I replied with a wry smile, folding the letter carefully.
"If you were a fish," Piper said, her eyes trained on the door as Claudia pushed through the entryway, "you should swim towards brighter days."
"That's if I was a fish." I sighed. "Which I am not, but I shall heed your words, I think?"
"Well, brighter days are heading your way…" Alex hissed, her eyes sparkling. "Because a certain Ravenclaw is headed this way…"
Authors Note: Erm, so, how long has it been since I've updated this story? Yeah, far too long. Again, I send out massive apologies!
Also, I'd like to note that I really fail at consistency. Before, I wasn't sure if I wanted this story to remain in the canon of PoA, so I disregarded a bunch of stuff - then, I realized that I might as well leave it in canon so I need to go back and fix a couple things. So most likely, you've noticed those inconsistencies and are able to forgive me for them. They'll be gone, soon :)
Please leave a review! You're all so wonderful! ♥
Oh, don't mind me if I get weak in the knees.
Only, you know, I'm sitting.
"Charlotte?" Drew's voice trembled, and I felt butterflies building up in my stomach as I turned. It was one of those turns. You know, the ones that are in slow-motion, with the wind blowing my hair attractively around my face without being sucked into my slightly open mouth.
"Y-yes?" Alex elbowed me hard in the ribs and Piper's giggle was stifled by her hand being clamped over her mouth.
Good. It should stay clamped over her mouth.
I stared up at him, my hands growing sweatier by the second.
"A-are you going to be in the library, today?" Drew was twisting the end of his Hogwarts sweater in his hands and he looked paler than usual. His glasses were slipping off the edge of his nose again, and I longed to reach out and push them up. He looked down at me, chewing on his bottom lip in a nervous tic.
"I'm always at the library…" I responded, slowly. "Though, I'm not tutoring Oliver, today. I think he has practice."
"Oh, okay," he was looking so frightened that I gave him a helpful smile. "You'll be there alone, correct?"
"Yes…" my lips were trying to frown, but I held them up by force, "I'm always there alone…when not with Oliver…"
I was so confused. Why was he so nervous? Why was he staring at me in such a way? Why did he care whether or not I was going to the library…alone? Bloody hell; my mind was running in circles, again.
"Alright, then," Drew licked his lips, turned on his heel and walked quickly away from the Gryffindor table. I stared at his back, and a sigh left my lips without my realizing it.
"Do I sense disappointment in the air?" Alex held up her hands to me, as if she could sense waves of disappointment floating off of my being.
"What are you talking about, child?" I inquired with a shrug, "Why on earth would I be disappointed?"
Piper said nothing, but removed her hand from her mouth and stared at me. "He fancies you, I say."
"Well, clearly not," I picked up my fork and tried to continue eating. "Didn't you just see the conversation I just had with him? Nothing happened. He doesn't fancy me."
"He was nervous as a bloody hippogriff trainer waiting for the bloody hippogriff to respond to his bow." Piper retorted with a knowing look. "Besides, why would he ask you now?"
"Why wouldn't he ask me now?" I sighed. "Er, hypothetically, that is. The three of us know that it's a ridiculous notion to begin with…"
"Because," Piper sighed, as if she was frustrated with my dimwittedness, "we're here." She gestured to herself and Alex. "It'd be too embarrassing if he just straight-out asked you! Especially in front of well, his friends, and your friends…"
"What if you had said no?" Alex chimed in, her voice rising in volume. "What if everything had gone wrong and he had to live with the fact that he had messed up in front of a) everyone, b) his friends, and c) your friends…? Poor bloke."
I pointed to my expressionless face. "Does this look like the face of someone who is amused by your antics?!"
Alex elbowed me again, but not as hard, "No, because that's just how your usual face looks." She grinned cheekily. "Come on, Lotty, allow us a little fun, yeah?"
"At my expense?" I asked, putting on an air of mock-offense.
"Hullo," a voice interrupted our squabbling. We all turned towards the right and saw a cheerful looking Hufflepuff grinning at us. "I was wondering if you had seen Claudia."
"She just left," Piper pointed towards the double-doors. "Apparently, she's got a letter from her mum, so she's gone to read it. If you'd like, I'll relay a message to her for you." Her voice had suddenly lost its warmth. This was a side of Piper that I hadn't seen before – cold, distant, condescending.
The boy continued to smile. "Just tell her that Theo was looking for her."
When he had gone, our idle chatter did not return. Piper was staring after the boy with narrowed eyes and Alex was trying very hard not to comment on the whole thing.
"Who is that again?" My voice interrupted the silence like a bull running rampant in a delicate china shop. Alex choked on her drink and Piper's gaze suddenly shifted towards me.
"Theo Hall." Piper spat out the name. "Pathetic sort of boy, isn't he? He trails after her like some sort of lost-puppy. I don't know what she was thinking when she agreed to date him."
"I think he's rather nice, actually," I commented briefly, turning my gaze towards the Hufflepuff table as Theo grinned at one of his friends and sat back down. "He's got a nice face, gentle smile…"
"And the brains of a wombat." Piper said the last bit dully.
Alex's eyes were shining and she was shaking with repressed laughter.
"He's in our Divination class. Apparently, he's been in love with her for awhile and was pretty surprised – I was pretty surprised – when she agreed to go out with him. They're set to go to Hogsmeade on Halloween." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, Claudia would rather spend her first Hogsmeade weekend with that moron instead of with me."
"Maybe she likes the tea-shop," Alex suggested.
"The tea-shop?" I inquired. "You mean the fluffily pink place with obscene amounts of candles and strategically placed dark corners? The one that you often complain to me about?"
"You never know…" was the reply I got.
Piper narrowed her eyes at Alex. It appeared that I was not the only one who caught Alex's insinuation that Claudia would enjoy those horrid things.
"Nobody likes that damn tea-shop." Piper's nostrils flared. "People just like going in to snog."
"Which is the reason why she's been in businesses for such a long time – the tea is awful, but you have to admit that it is a good place to hide out…"
"I, for one, would not be caught dead inside that tea-shop." Piper retorted.
"I wouldn't know," I chimed in. "I've never been in it."
The two rounded on me immediately. Piper leaned into the table so that her face was close to mine and Alex gave me a wink.
"Come Halloween, you'll be experiencing it first-hand!" Piper exclaimed, "With Drew!"
"Aw, my little baby Charlotte is growing up!" Alex pretended to wipe away a tear. "Getting stuck in awkward social situations! Who knew this day would ever come?" She mock-sobbed.
"I don't know you," I pretended to hide my face from them by turning away. "You're so embarrassing…"
"It's only too bad that Gryffindor tower doesn't have a balcony." Piper was musing. "He could come ask you in song! Singing to you in the moonlight, under the balcony…" She drifted off into her own delusion.
Alex struck a lovesick pose and pretended to strum on an invisible lute, "Or he'd call out into the darkness…'O, Charlotte, Charlotte…wherefore art thou Charlotte?' and you'd come out, your beauty reflected in the moonlight and cry out…"
"I'd cry out, 'why on earth are you asking me why I'm Charlotte…'" I quipped dryly. "And, aren't those Juliet's lines? Isn't she asking why Romeo is Romeo because he's a Montague?"
"Details, details," Alex waved them away with her right hand. "Either way, the romantic notion will still be there. And then, once you are at Madam Puddifoot's…"
"They'll snog senselessly?" Piper's eye had a manic glint in them.
"We will not." My cheeks flamed hot.
This was getting slightly ridiculous. I mean, it was fine for them to accuse me of liking him or tease me about staring at him in the library – but, really, assuming that he fancies me and that he's going to take me out to Hogsmeade was really a bit much. What did they want me to do? Get my hopes up, only to be dashed? I've seen too many girls sobbing about in the lavatories over broken hearts and disappointed expectations. I didn't have time to be one of them.
It was just better for everyone if I kept my feelings at a distance. It was less complicated if nobody knew about it.
I stood up, collected my letter and walked away from the table. Alex and Piper's laughing stopped, but they didn't follow me out. Once I was out the door, I leaned against one of the stone walls in exhaustion. The day had barely begun and I already felt worn out.
"Hey! Charlotte!" I closed my eyes and sighed when I heard Oliver's familiar voice calling out a greeting to me. This morning really wasn't my day – I didn't know if I could suck it up and be nice to him on a morning such as this.
I composed myself. "Oh, hello there Oliver. Why aren't you in the Great Hall for breakfast?"
"Finished composing a new play – I really can't wait to try it out on the team tonight. Thanks for postponing our session until tomorrow." He grinned at me.
"It's really not a problem." I sighed again and reached out my right hand to rub my temple. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to see if…"
I never finished my sentence because Isabella came out of nowhere and attached herself to Oliver's arm. Her brown eyes flashed at me defiantly.
"Good morning, love," she whispered to him in a low voice – it was just loud enough for me to hear. "You naughty boy, you're late for breakfast."
Oliver looked as though he was about to faint. He smiled at her and clutched her arm. "I was working on some Quidditch plays – did you wait long?"
"Oh, you know, just a little bit." She pinched her fingers together to indicate the tiny amount of time that she had waited. "Shall we? You've missed the mail call already."
"Damn," Oliver looked eager to rush towards a small pile of mail resting on one of the Gryffindor tables. "Mum and Lucy have probably written to me. Let's go." He turned to wave at me, "Bye, Charlotte!"
I held up my hand in silent farewell. Oliver was leading Isabella away, and I caught her eye. Her lips pulled themselves into a dreadfully false smile. "It was nice seeing you, Charlotte."
The air wasn't a bit chilly, but I shivered anyway. The way she said my name was as though she had shouted numerous obscenities at me.
"Charlotte, what are you doing here?" Claudia had returned. She appeared in the same place that Isabella had, just a few seconds ago. "Are you alright? You look ill."
Her tone of voice had gone from somewhat shocked to its usual, cool tone with an added edge of worry.
"Oh, uh, Alex and Piper wouldn't stop making fun of me, so I left." I shrugged my shoulders. "I've just got a little headache. I think I'll go lie down at the Infirmary."
"Oh, alright," she gave me a kind smile. "Would you like me to take your things back to the Common Room?"
"No, I'll keep them with me." I tucked my mum's letter into one of my books. I turned to walk away but suddenly remembered something, "Oh, yes! Um, Theo was looking for you." His name felt funny on my tongue.
"Was he?" Claudia looked only mildly interested. "I'll go find him, then. Thank you for passing the message along."
The Infirmary was very quiet. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, dictating something. I could see her quill moving about in a quick motion, only to pause every so often as it dabbed a dot over an 'i' or crossed a 't'.
I had missed Arithmancy, and half of Charms. The headache just wouldn't subside. My thoughts jumbled together in a mess – details of various potions mixed with terms from History of Magic; Alex and Piper's voice narrated my love story to me, complete with 'glorified' scenes of romance. It was too much for me to think about.
I didn't want to get my hopes up about Drew. I didn't want them to know that I had fancied them. I closed my eyes again. It was why I hadn't told Alex about my crush on him – I didn't want to give her an excuse to mock the crush.
Another hour passed and I awoke from my nap. I realized that I had missed all of my classes for the day, and that the sun was slowly sinking over the horizon.
"Oh, you're awake," Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out of the doorway and looked at me. "You've been asleep all day, Miss Murray. Your friends came in to see you, but I didn't want to wake you so…"
"Goodness," I blinked a few times before looking back at the sun's descent. "I didn't know this was going to happen? I've got to get going. Thank you so much, Madam Pomfrey, for letting me sleep here."
"You're free to come whenever you're feeling the least bit unwell, dear. That's why I'm here, you know." She waved me off as I darted out of the Infirmary. The torches hanging along the walls were already lit.
"Shoot, what time is it?" I pondered to myself as I turned a corner. The strap from my book bag dug into my shoulder and I yawned.
And then, memories of this morning flooded my brain.
I could choose to go to the library now, and encounter Drew. As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't. Alex and Piper had instilled such expectations within me that I was afraid that they wouldn't be met – afraid that, they were wrong and he didn't fancy me.
How could he fancy me? What would I do, then?
The library was just around this corridor. My feet suddenly felt like someone had tied cement blocks to them. The double-doors of the library dared me to step into a wonderland, into a dream.
I had to ask myself: what did I expect? Did I expect awkward silences, as he stared at me? Did I expect a ridiculously romantic display of roses? Did I expect him to ask me to Hogsmeade?
It was too late to think about all of that. I had approached the doors. The sun dipped even lower in the sky, and darkness threatened to consume it.
I forced my thoughts to shut up. I forced them to be silenced. I grabbed hold of the door handle with sweaty hands and pulled it open. With two steps, I walked into the library and scanned it.
Drew was sitting at a desk in the back – his usual spot. He had his back towards me, and he appeared to be madly flipping through a thick novel.
I was about to walk towards him when he stood up. He ran a hand through his blond hair and muttered to himself. He paced to the end of the row of books and checked his watch. He nearly sprinted back towards the book and began flipping through it again. He set down the book, placed both of his hands palm-first against the table and took in a deep breath.
"Sorry, am I late?" I don't know what made me ask such a question. What was I late for? It wasn't like we had arranged to meet there or something. But, I did say it, and when he heard my voice, Drew nearly bolted out of his chair. He stood up so fast that it nearly fell over.
"No, no," he smiled at me before pulling out the chair across from him for me. "You weren't in Arithmancy, today." He stated this quickly, anxiously.
"I had a headache this morning, so I went to the Infirmary but I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep until I woke up and realized that I had managed sleep away the entire day. Professor Vector wasn't irritated, was she?"
"No," he shook his head and nervously picked at one of his hands. "She lamented about it, though. Thought it was a pity that her best student was there, today."
"I'm not her best student." My face flushed and I found that my own nervous tics were beginning to kick in.
No! I banished my fears and thoughts from my mind. I didn't want to do this. I didn't have enough experience with these situations – couldn't Alex do this in my place? Mentally, I scolded myself and shook my head. Practice made perfect? Right? Right?
"Er, so, you're feeling much better now?" Drew was avoiding my eyes. His cheeks had a pleasant pink tinge to them, and I noticed that his glasses were neatly folded and tucked away in his breast pocket.
"Much better, thanks." I beamed.
There was a brief silence, and then we both tried to speak at once.
"What was the home-"
"I'm assuming that you want the-"
Drew looked at me, suddenly very alarmed.
"You finish," I said gallantly, wishing I could dig a hole and crawl into it.
"Er, I'm assuming that you wanted the homework…" he looked at me awkwardly, his right hand reaching for his bag. He fished through it for the homework and I blinked, licking my lips in anticipation. Drew took in a deep breath and then set the homework down on the table, but not close enough for me to reach it. "Also, um, Charlotte…what are you doing...this…Sunday?"
"Sunday?" I felt like someone had just shocked me with a Cheering Charm. "Absolutely nothing."
"Brilliant," Drew murmured. "Er, not brilliant that you're doing absolutely nothing…but uh, brilliant that you could…perhaps, accompany me to…Hogsmeade…? Since you have nothing else to do? If you wanted to, that is? I mean, I understand if you don't because you could have all sorts of homework assignments and I really don't want to be distracting-"
Before he could break off into a nervous ramble, I gave him a very wide smile. The butterflies were exploding in my stomach and I was sure that I would burst into happy tears at any moment but I had to respond, or else the poor bloke would go on and on about nonsense.
"I think that would be a wonderful idea…" the smile grew wider, "as long as we avoid Madam Puddifoot's."
Drew had a look on his face of sheer relief. I got the feeling that he was dreading Madam Puddifoot's almost as much as I did – perhaps, he had friends like mine? Friends who thought it was absolutely hilarious to mock people's crushes?
Er, I'll have to admit that it is rather fun, but not when the subject of said mocking is you.
There was a crowing sound that came from nowhere, and Drew and I looked about. From the crevices of well, I don't know how the library has any of these crevices, but Piper and a male jumped out from one of them.
"Good show, mate!" The male slapped Drew on the shoulder and I saw him wince.
"I told you!" Piper squealed.
I made a shushing motion. I did not want Madam Pince storming into this moment and ruining it. Oh, wait. I didn't have to pretend that Drew and I actually had a Moment. Because, you know, we totally did.
A genuine Drew-Charlotte Moment with a capital M. I like it. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?
"I'm Richie, by the way," the boy with sandy colored hair introduced himself. "Richie Jones. It's really nice to finally meet you."
Drew colored again, and punched his friend in the arm. Piper raised an eyebrow at 'finally'.
"Um, how do you and Richie know each other?" Drew was addressing Piper now. He was all tongue-tied and his face was the color of a tomato.
"He's in my Divination class." Piper said, as though the fact was unimportant. "He's my seeing partner."
"That sounds slightly funny, doesn't it?" Richie asked. "Seeing partner. It's as though you're blind, and I'm your partner…that can see."
"He's not always this strange…" Drew told me in an aside, his tone somewhat apologetic. "Or, maybe he always is and I haven't realized how terribly embarrassing he is until now…"
"Our Andrew talks about you often," Richie told me, sweeping onto his knees and grabbing my hand to kiss. "You're prettier than I expected, really."
I didn't know whether or not I should be smile at the compliment, or frown in offense.
"Andrew doesn't have the best taste in girls – you're decent, I'll give you that." He winked at me.
Can I be offended now?
"Our Richard often says things without thinking properly," Drew said through gritted teeth. "It's a wonder why he got sorted into Ravenclaw. No brain whatsoever."
"Oi," Richie pretended to look hurt, "that stings, mate!"
"Who's your mate…?" Drew growled. He decided that he had unleashed one of his friends on me for far too long and dragged Richie away. "I'll see you later, Charlotte."
"What time do you want to meet for Hogsmeade?"
"How does eleven sound?"
"Like a perfect time to be meeting for Hogsmeade!" I called to his retreating back.
I regretted it as soon as the words came out of my mouth.
"'Like a perfect time to be meeting for Hogsmeade'?" Piper repeated my words to me and I swatted her arm.
"Bugger off."
"And then she shouted that eleven sounded 'like a perfect time to be meeting for Hogsmeade'!" Piper was recounting the story to Alex and Claudia in our shared dormitory. She said that she wanted to stay away from her own for as long as possible.
"Sounds fantastic," Alex was laughing loudly – snorting, actually. It was really attractive. I can assure you that. "You were so bloody nervous, I bet. I could see you sweating like a –"
It was Claudia who saved me from the wolves – er, I mean friends.
"I'm sure you'll have a nice time, Charlotte." She nodded. "Theo and I will be going, too. Do you want to meet, maybe, at Madam Puddifoot's?"
"Um, it's not that I don't want to meet with you, Claudia…" I found myself mumbling. "Well, Drew and I both decided that it, maybe, would not be the greatest idea to go there…"
She raised an eyebrow at me – a very un-Claudia-like thing to do.
"We could all meet at the Three Broomsticks, then." Alex decided. "I'd like to truly meet your Drew. After all, we have all been hearing so much about him!"
"Shut your gobbler," I retorted. "I'm only having issues with a single thing, though." I pulled at the bottom of my frayed pajama top and the three gave me curious looks.
"What could you possibly be having problems with, child?" Alex inquired hotly.
"Honestly, I don't know…what I should do…if I stumble upon Wood and you-know-who there…"
"The she-devil who eats souls?" Piper filled in, "Or do you mean the Dark Wizard?"
"Same difference," Alex replied to Piper's quip. "What do you mean, Charlotte?"
"I don't want her to try something funny while I'm on my date with Drew." And then, I took a second to take it in – yes, world, I just said 'date' and 'with Drew' in the same sentence. I must have done something right in my past-life to deserve such a wonderful chance to use those words together!
"She's on a date with Oliver, then, right? How would she be able to hurt you if she's on her own date?"
"Those minions that she calls friends," Piper interrupted Alex with a sigh. "Great, we have to worry about them, too."
Claudia had her brow wrinkled. She had not thought of this, either.
"I haven't told Theo the reason why I've been avoiding him lately." She inserted this into the conversation quickly. "I didn't want him to see me with green or purple paint dripping from my hair. It wouldn't be proper."
"Oh, my bloody biscuit Gods," I knocked my head against my headboard in annoyance. "I did not think of that. How am I supposed to keep Isabella's fury away from Drew? I don't want him targeted, either! I don't want him to know about my humiliation…It's too damn embarrassing…"
"Firstly," Alex gave me a look, "Piper and I don't have dates to Hogsmeade. We'll look out for the two of you and alert you if any of those devilish Minions are running around. Secondly, wow, Charlotte, you've been cursing a lot more than before – I must be having some sort of effect on you. Thirdly, don't keep it from Drew, Charlotte. I have a feeling that he won't take too kindly to you brushing him off, unlike Theo – no offense, Claudia."
"None taken." Claudia smiled.
"I'm exhausted." Piper yawned. "Can't we think about the Isabella-Voldybread problem some other day? I think she's in bed, so I can sleep safely."
"Alright, good night." We stood from our spots on the floor. Our other two roommates walked in and gave us a strange look before departing to their beds.
Piper stood at the doorway and shot me a wink. "Remember, there's nothing wrong with kissing on a first date."
I rolled my eyes.
"What Charlotte means with that gesture," Alex explained sagely, "is sod off."
They both giggled and Piper left.
I lay in my bed with the sheet pulled up to my chin and smiled to myself. Every time I thought about Drew, or about Hogsmeade, my stomach would flutter and my insides would twist themselves into a knot. I thought about how the four of us had formed such a strange friendship.
Even though Alex still resisted (you could tell, with her snarky comments to Piper sometimes…I was surprised that Piper hadn't hexed her), I had not. I welcomed Claudia and Piper's unlikely friendship.
It was easy to start a friendship, but the difficult part, after all, was keeping the threat of betrayal away from our newly formed bonds of friendship.
Authors Note: I'm trying to get out chapters 9 and 10 tonight, too. I hope you stay tuned. :)
Please take the time to leave a review. It means a lot to me. ♥
Chapter Nine: Minus the Drama and the Fraud
They say that when you're excited for something, it feels like forever until that something happens. On the other hand, if you're anxious as a church mouse, it feels like time simply has flown by and that particular day has arrived sooner than expected.
As you can imagine, I am the church mouse. My fingers fidgeted with the edge of my cloak and Alex hissed at me for the millionth time to stop twitching every five seconds. I shivered, not because it was cold (trust me, it was) but because my nerves were firing extra today.
"He'll fall on his face when he sees you." She exclaimed, happily rearranging bits of my hair with a free hand. "Head over heels. Something like that, right?"
"Heads over heels." Piper corrected with a smile, her arms crossed over her chest as she surveyed my appearance carefully. "Just, you know, don't do that nervous thing you do…"
I blinked a few times, chewing on my lip. "What nervous thing?"
"That." She pointed to my lip, where I was happily munching away at the bottom of it. "It's unattractive, Charlotte. Anyways, he'll have to fight through hoards of guys to find you tomorrow."
The candle flickered in our room and Claudia suddenly let out a yawn. "It's getting late, hm? Maybe it's time for bed." She sent me a smile. "Don't be worried. Everything will be alright."
I wasn't so sure. My stomach was doing things that I didn't know it could do. Back-flips. Front-flips. Somersaults. Tumbling into a feeling I had never felt before.
With that, Piper left our room, but not before rumpling my hair with her right hand. Alex grumbled about having procrastinated the homework from her least-favorite class. Claudia climbed into her own bed and shut her eyes. I leaned against the wall and blew softly at the candle. I stood there in the darkness for awhile, just contemplating. My palms were sweaty, just from thinking about it and I was frightened when the other girls in our room walked in from the bathroom, chattering softly about tomorrow.
I leaned against the wall and my worries wouldn't be silenced. They engulfed me, like a flame engulfing everything in sight. How would I hide Isabella's tyranny from Drew? It was too obvious. And much too embarrassing to even try to explain to him – besides that, I didn't even know why she was targeting me. I had done nothing to incite this hatred towards me.
I hadn't tried to hide it from Oliver, either. It had been too difficult and it wasn't as though he asked about it, either. He diverted his eyes from the green goo dripping from my hair and spoke as though he were conversing to the floor.
And he was dating her, too. I wondered if he knew. I wondered if he knew and had bothered to ask her about it. I shook my head. Why on earth would he do that for me, anyways? What was I to him? Just a girl who would tutor him so he could remain as captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
My thoughts drifted then, to tomorrow. Again, my stomach seemed to leap and flop and do things that I hadn't expected it to do. I felt hopes rising, and wanted to push them down so I wouldn't be disappointed. I didn't want to be disappointed.
"You're not going to bed, Lotty?" Alex mumbled sleepily from her four-poster, a single arm thrown over her forehead.
"Not yet." I managed to say, her voice jolting me out of my thoughts. "I think I'm going to look over my Herbology notes – you know how I always do poorly on those exams."
She mumbled something about how an "Acceptable" was not 'poorly' and rolled over.
The light from the common room could be seen and I squinted into the darkness of our room, trying to see if I could fetch my notes before tiptoeing off to study.
I spotted my bag and with a quick leap, grabbed it and dashed out of the smothering room. Once down the stairs, I breathed a sigh of relief before collapsing in one of the nearest chairs. I plopped down the brown bag and pulled out my Herbology book and some folded up parchment. With my wand, I pulled the candles closer so I could see better.
For a few minutes, I worked silently. My eyes scanned over the quickly scribbled words, cross-referencing them with the information given in the textbook. I could hear only the crackling of the fire and my own breathing, until my silence was disrupted.
"Oh, I thought this was empty." Her haughty voice was so particular that if I knew whom it was before I even turned around. Isabella's brown hair hung straight down. Something about her was familiar, and yet, it was strange. I didn't bother to think and turned back around. "You're…Murray…" she took a step closer and once again, I set down my quill.
"Yes," I said tiredly. "Yes, I am."
"It's about twelve-thirty, you know." She didn't even phrase it in a question. Everything that she said seemed to be matter-of-fact and extremely direct. When I didn't respond, she moved on, flopping onto the sofa with ease. "You're my Ollie's tutor."
"Yes. I help him with Potions." I began underlining my work again, reading up on whatever plant it was that we were currently studying.
"He's not very bright, it's true," Isabella was playing with the end of her hair. I could see her reflected off of one of the paintings that hung in front of my desk. "But he's handsome. I hear you're going to Hogsmeade with Andrew Foster of Ravenclaw."
The blood in my veins seemed to freeze up and I could feel my hands trembling. I didn't know how such a person like Isabella could start such reactions within me.
"Dearest Elise is dating one of his friends, a Richie Jones. I think you might know him – they've been going steady for about a year now."
Richie Jones?! My mind spun and I found my body doing the same. Why was Piper hanging out with a boy who had connections to…her.
"She's really a dear, although a bit daft. I don't see why the Sorting Hat put her in Ravenclaw to begin with." Isabella stretched her hands out, flexing her fingers before the flickering flames.
This entire time, Isabella had been the only one talking. It seemed as though she were merely stating these facts to herself, but now, she focused on me. She turned so that she was facing me (for the past couple minutes, I had swiveled so that I was giving her a questioning look) and gave me a smile.
"Murray – Charlotte, really, I bet you're always thinking…why me?" She shrugged. "Why you, indeed. I don't even know. You come with the Alex, Claudia package I suppose, just like that Piper. Though, I don't like how that Piper has been looking at Elise's Richie."
The way she talked about those boys – my Oliver, Elise's Richie; they were people, not things that one could own – clearly, she had not learned that.
"I've got nothing against you, really," she seemed earnest. "You've done nothing to bother me – you don't annoy me with your constant, mindless chatter as some do. You don't pester and try to raise yourself to my elevation – though, I can see why some try to attempt this. You know your place and well, that's wonderful. If only everyone would act like you, I'd be a very happy person."
Every bit of my common sense told me to turn around, ignore her and continue studying. But, of course, I couldn't. I was transfixed by her. Something about her words. She was right. I should be self-righteous and ask and scream and wonder why on earth she'd target me so cruelly.
"You're kind to my Oliver." There she was again, using those possessive words. "You help him retain his captaincy. I like that." Her eyes looked almost cat-like, dark slits staring at me from her place in front of the fire. Isabella turned her face again so that she was no longer facing me. She stared into the cracking flames and let out a sigh. "I like you, Charlotte. You put up with things and don't complain. You aren't an annoyance and you know your place. I have a proposition for you, darling Charlotte."
I didn't like the way she said my name. I didn't like this thing that she was drawing me into. I knew that I couldn't trust her. I knew, just based on Alex's stories and experiences with this demon-girl.
"You like Andrew an awful lot."
I wanted to correct her. Drew was Drew, not Andrew.
"And I bet you're worrying yourself to death about our current…predicament."
If she were a villain in a movie, she'd be sitting in one of those arm chairs, tapping her fingertips together in a menacing fashion and glowering at me. But, she was completely sangfroid, emotionless, like a robot.
"You're kind to Oliver, and I know this. I greatly appreciate your services to him and as such, I can assure you that you will no longer be targeted for anything." If she would have snapped her fingers, I would have lost it. I didn't know what to do. Should I have shot her down? Asked that she spare my friends? Get on my knees and beg for them? Thank her?
"Er," was the only sound I managed to make because she launched into something else.
"Don't worry about a thing, Charlotte, everything will be alright." She echoed Claudia's words, which sent a chill down my spine. "Your friends might find it odd that you've stopped, though, but of course, I have conditions for this."
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"You won't tell them about this little chat, will you? Nor will you tell Oliver what I've done. You'll be happy with Andrew, and I'll be happy with Oliver and he'll be happy that he's captain, thanks to your tutoring. And, darling, it'll be even more wonderful if you could get that obnoxious Piper girl to stop trying to sink her claws into Elise's Richie. It'd be greatly appreciated."
Isabella crossed and uncrossed her legs before getting up and dusting off her black and white striped pajamas. She gave a rather toothy smile, her hair shining menacingly in the light. "It was a really wonderful chat, wasn't it? We should chat more." She walked towards the staircase and paused again, turning to me. "I have a feeling we could be great friends."
I was left staring at the space where she had stood before, wondering if I had just made an accidental pact with the devil.
"Hey, Piper," it was breakfast and she was flipping through the Daily Prophet. My stomach was no longer in knots because of last night. I was too overwhelmed with the Isabella situation. "Do you fancy Richie?"
She set down the paper with knitted brows. "What makes you ask that?"
Claudia and Alex stopped eating and fixed us with a look.
"The situation in the library." I said, quickly. "You two seemed cozy…"
"He has a girlfriend." She went back to the newspaper. "That obnoxious girl, Elise Davenport."
"Her best friend is Isabella, you know…" I mentioned quietly.
Piper set down the paper again, her cold, silver eyes flashing. "And your point is?"
"Nothing," I muttered. "I was just saying…" Apparently, Richie was a sore subject for her.
"Lotty," Alex cut in with waggling eyebrows. "Are you excited to be going on a real date with Drew? Are you simply just, ready to pee your pants with excitement?"
"More like throw up," I retorted. This brought my thoughts onto Drew and my stomach retied itself into a hard knot that made me set down my spoon with disdain. "I woke up with my hair looking like a bird's nest, my skin terribly blotchy and I seriously think that my teeth got overly yellow in a single night." I smiled for them. "Look!"
Alex rolled her eyes. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Charlotte. Your skin is not blotchy, first of all. It's the nicest shade of pale…ever. Alright, your hair is ridiculously red but it isn't a nasty, rusty color and your teeth are not yellow. It's all just part of your insane brain trying to work up an excuse so you don't go."
"And don't worry about Isabella," Claudia reassured me as the aforementioned brunette walked into the Great Hall. She sauntered down the rows, stopping to hug Elise and a few other girls. "Alex and Piper said they'd look out for her minions."
"You guys don't have to, really," I fiddled with the spoon. "Drew's going to have to find out eventually, and it's just better to start a relationships based on truth, right?" I was lying straight through my teeth and it felt like my soul was going to crumble, or I was going to hit with lightning.
"I suppose." Alex replied thoughtfully. "We'll be on a lookout anyway, Lotty. We haven't much to do."
"We do, on the other hand," two voices chimed in as two red-headed boys plopped in beside me. "Fancy you having a date, Lots." Fred Weasley winked. "You've broken my heart, my love!"
"Your love!" George squabbled with his twin as he grabbed my arm. "My love!"
"More like, Drew's love." Piper coughed. Her good humor restored. "Speaking of which, it's a quarter 'til eleven. Shouldn't you be scrambling over?"
I stood up, quickly, almost alarmingly quick.
"You look fine." Alex said, her tone reassuring as I patted my hair and pulled at my cloak and uniform. "Go knock him dead with your wildly proficient social skills."
Stopping my walk, I turned and stared at her.
"Never mind! Just go!"
My hurried steps took me out of the castle and onto the grounds. My breath was white in the frosty air and I pulled my Gryffindor scarf tighter against my pale, exposed throat.
And when I saw him standing there, his hands tucked inside his jacket and rocking back and forth on his heels…I didn't know what overcame me. It wasn't nervousness or anxiousness. I felt my heart seem to swell, as though I had never experienced something as joyful as this.
"Drew! Hi!" I didn't want to sound too eager, and was afraid that I had, because he was startled to see me. I gave him a smile, which he returned cautiously.
"Hi. I wasn't expecting you so soon." He was glancing at his wristwatch. "It's barely eleven."
"I like to be early…" I replied.
"Me, too," he replied with a less-serious smile. He offered his arm to me, which I took gratefully. His body heat kept me comfortably toasty in the chilly Halloween air. "Where do you want to go?"
"I'd say tea, but that requires Madam Puddifoot's…"
Drew cringed. "Maybe we should save that for a fourth or fifth date, yes?"
My insides leapt with joy. A fourth or fifth date! That meant that he really did like me, and wasn't just pitying this stupid Gryffindor girl with no social skills whatsoever.
"Er, let's do what you want to do, then."
He smiled. "Browse the bookstore?"
"Can we get candy afterwards, or a hot butterbeer?"
"Anything."
He was glancing through an Alchemy book and I was flipping through some random magazine that I had picked up. I set it back down and glanced out the frosted windows. The leaves were falling and a rosy-cheeked, mousy sort of woman entered the store, sending the bells atop of it, twinkling away.
Drew looked up, pushed his spectacles up higher and squinted.
The woman, bundled up for the chilly weather, looked ill. Her nose was red and she looked absolutely exhausted. She was fiddling with a few books on display, her eyes scanning over them gingerly as she continued on. I watched as she laid a hand on the shelf, resting her fingers against a bound book with gold-leaf lettering. It had something to do with dreams, deciphering them and all that.
"Professor Fotherby?" his voice was surprised.
The woman was more surprised. She nearly leapt out of her skin and let out a little yelp in the process. She steadied herself, pulling the clothes draped around her closer.
"Oh, hello Mister Foster," her voice was tinged with an accent, but I wasn't standing close enough to decipher which one it was. "F-Fancy seeing you here." She put on a smile.
"My International Magic professor," Drew whispered to me.
"It's nice to meet you," I smiled.
She didn't appear to want much to do with us, but she continued to smile and make an attempt at cheerful conversation. Every so often, she'd let out a cough and hold a handkerchief to her face. She looked sickly, tired, and frankly, worn out.
I had never seen a person look like this, before.
"Do you want to go get some candy, then?" Drew was asking me as Professor Fotherby stumbled off, her book on deciphering dreams tucked in a hand. I wondered why she was buying it in such a manner that made it seem like she didn't want people to know about it.
"Let's go get some, then. I hear Honeydukes is genius."
"You've never been?" Drew's eyes widened. "You're missing out, Charlotte."
He took my hand (I pretended not to squeal on the inside and fangirl, madly), and took me across the street.
We bumped into a cloaked man who was rushing by in a hurry.
"Professor Lupin!" I greeted him warmly.
He was holding a bag of chocolate candy bars and he smiled warmly. "Hello there, Miss Murray. It's nice to see you again. I trust that you've been alright with everything?"
"Fine." I introduced him to Drew, who, of course, already knew who he was, considering that Drew took Lupin's class.
Lupin seemed to be searching for someone, for his hazel eyes scanned the bustling streets with interest.
"If you're looking for Professor Fotherby," I don't know what possessed me to say it, but I did. "She's in the book store. I don't think she's left yet."
He had a strange sort of look on his face and I had the feeling that I had hit the nail directly on the head.
"Thank you, Miss Murray." He hustled off.
"Strange fellows, the both of them," Drew whispered to me as we entered the sweet-smelling shop. "Professor Fotherby is a bit of a scatter-brain. She forgets lesson notes and always seems to be sulking. I only take it because it will look good when I apply to work at the Ministry."
"She seems nice, though," I replied. "Messy, but kind."
"She's kind, I suppose," he shrugged. "I just wish she'd make her class a tad bit more interesting. Half the time, I wish I didn't take it. And Lupin's class is a bit of an adventure – we're always learning new things but half the time, I wish we'd learn some proper wand-work that I can demonstrate at the Ministry. It'd be smart, though, to learn about those creatures but I don't really see the value in them."
I said nothing, for my eyes were completely set on the shining mound of golden candy. I filled my bag with Sugar Quills and Drew bought me a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
"I think this is supposed to taste like rubbish," I made a face when I put a grey one into my mouth.
"I got grass," he laughed. "Here, try this one." He motioned for me to open my mouth.
"Hmmm, I can't make it if it's supposed to be dirt, or kidney."
Drew roared with laughter. "I'd imagine it to be the same, honestly."
The rest of the day flew by. He saw some of his friends, who teased us mercilessly and caused the both of us to turn beet red. We then stopped by the Three Broomsticks to grab butterbeers, and of course, met up with Theo and Claudia as well as Alex and Piper.
Apparently, the two of them had been off exploring the Forbidden Forest for the most of the day as well as munching on goods from Honeydukes.
Theo and Claudia were happily holding hands, leaning into each other warmly – well, Theo more than Claudia. She looked happy, but it was a reserved sort of happiness that wasn't as expressed as openly as Theo's happiness.
Drew wasn't awkward at all. I was impressed. He made conversation with Theo and my friends, who kept shooting me winks and dirty, suggestive looks.
And, when the date ended (my expectations had been met and my heart seemed too full for words), he walked me up to the castle. Above us, the clock tower in the courtyard chimed and Drew was smiling at me cheerfully.
"I had a good time." I told him honestly.
It had been a good time. No awkwardness. It was full of conversation and fun things. I had discovered my weakness for butterbeer and had pretty much avoided Isabella and Oliver the entire day. I hadn't thought about them at all and I probably didn't have to worry about it much, later, either.
I felt bad, though, taking Isabella's words to heart. What if she betrayed me? Could I call it betrayal when she was the enemy?
Distractedly, I was pulling at my scarf, and he adjusted it for me. His face was close to mine and as the clock chimed its last chime, he smiled again.
"I almost forgot, Charlotte," he was saying, "Happy Halloween."
He kissed my cheek.
Author's Note: Oh my goodness. I SURVIVED IB, GUYS! Geez, I feel amazingly accomplished that I survived May with hardly any scratches. Man, testing is OVER. I'm stoked to be back. Forgive me for the exceedingly long wait. I'm hoping for quicker updates now, since all I'm doing is waiting to graduate.
Holy crap. I'm graduating. I feel amazing right now. Anyways, I decided to give Lotty a nice first date. Just a taste. :)
Also, thanks to celticbard for letting me cameo her AMAZINGLY brilliant character, Forbia Fotherby (from her series, Consumed and Breathless -- both STUNNINGLY BRILLIANT stories). It wouldn't be the same without Freddy!
Please, please, please, leave a review with your thoughts. Thank you guys so much for sticking with me for nine chapters. Dang.
♥
"Could you explain that to me again, Charlotte? Properly, this time?" Oliver had his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. We both had bundled up and agreed to a study session after Hogsmeade.
I was barely listening. My heart was thumping away in my chest and inside my head; I had locked away all the memories of my date with Drew. I was about to let out a dreamy sigh when Oliver threw down his quill and leaned back against the wooden library chair.
"It's hopeless tonight." He gave a loud sigh and ruffled his hair. "There are too many things on my mind."
"Mmm." I stared dreamily out the library's window, seemingly admiring the darkened view of Hogwart's courtyard.
"I keep thinking about how wonderful my date was…and how excited the whole team is for the upcoming Quidditch match…Actually, the Quidditch match is one of the main things on my mind. What if I didn't train them enough? I'm excited, yet, worried. What if we haven't got in enough practices?"
"Mmm." I leaned heavily against my right hand, which was supporting my chin nicely. I could still see Drew standing there, his hands tucked into his pockets and his breath white in the chill air. His blonde hair was just a little rumpled and his glasses were on the bridge of his nose. I approach and I make my presence known – when Drew sees me, his face lights up with a smile. Sigh. Swoon.
"Isabella looked lovely today," Oliver was still prattling on. "Wearing this darling crimson sweater. She said she was wearing it for luck, so we'd win…" he let out a sigh, "today was really wonderful. It's absolutely surreal, Charlotte, the fact that she'd be even vaguely interested in me. I mean, really, me? I'm nothing special. I'm just a regular bloke…"
"Mhmm," I was imagining our fourth or fifth date. What would he be wearing? Would he smile the same way he smiled today? I gave a happy sigh.
"I think I saw you today, though…" I barely registered what he said and I turned towards him, pretending like I had been listening the entire time. "With some blond bloke. I couldn't really make it who it was, but I'm positive that it was you with him…"
I snapped out of my thoughts for a moment. "Huh?"
"Yeah…it was you…with some lad today," he looked at me, his brows furrowed again. "I knew it was you because of your hair." He gestured. "Not as red as the Weasleys, but still, your hair's like a beacon in the fog."
"You saw me today?" for some reason, this seemed a bit embarrassing. I felt my face begin to redden.
Oliver nodded, sure of himself. "You were with the blond-Ravenclaw…at least, I think it was a Ravenclaw. Could've been a Hufflepuff for all I know…"
"He's a Ravenclaw," I replied, slightly out-of-breath. "And his name's Drew. Drew Foster."
"He's your boyfriend, then?" Oliver grinned at me.
"Er, something like that…" I picked up my quill and my notes and began shuffling them back into place. Oliver yawned and my stomach growled noisily. I craned my neck to look at the clock. "Do you think it's time for dinner? I'm starving."
"Yeah, it ought to be time for dinner." Oliver replied. "And it's Halloween, so the feast should be something spectacular, hm?"
"It always is." I replied, still gathering up my things.
He waited while I picked up my hefty Advanced Potions book and book-bag and we walked together down the lit hallways, towards the Great Hall.
The walk was a little awkward, to say the least. The castle seemed to be silent, save for the quiet chatter of students conjugating by windows and corners.
"So, Drew Foster…did you two have fun today?" Oliver was trying to make small-talk.
"A lot of fun." Suddenly, I felt possessive. I wanted to keep my memories to myself. It was strange how quickly they had become some of my most prized possessions. "We have a lot in common." I struggled with something else to say. "What do you and Isabella do when you're together?" As long as I kept Oliver talking, I didn't have to do anything but pretend to listen. I could be lost in my own thoughts for as long as possible.
"That's wonderful," Oliver nodded. "Er, to have many things in common…that is…" he struggled to explain his own sentence of clarification. "Isabella and I had a lot of fun, too. We didn't really know what to do with ourselves at first, but then I suggested that we look at some of the treats at Honeydukes." He looked as though he were proud of the fact that he had thought of the idea. "And then afterwards…" Oliver droned on again.
I wondered why it was with me that Oliver always was so chatty. I didn't see him all chatty when he was with Isabella. And then I cringed – no wonder he wasn't chatty with Isabella. They were probably too busy snogging…to properly get any talking done…
We were close to the Great Hall. I could hear the roar of laughter and chatter from within as students celebrated Halloween with a marvelous feast. Oliver stopped for a moment, paused mid-way through one of his sentences and began shaking his head and chuckling. "I talk a lot when I'm with you, don't I?" Oh, the irony was killing me. If that boy could read my mind…well…I'd need to learn Occlumency.
"Er," I hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
"I guess I just have a lot of things to say that don't really get a chance to be said." He smiled at me. "Thanks for tolerating it."
"Am I supposed to say 'you're welcome' to that?" I inquired, a smile tugging at my lips (I tried to resist, I really did).
"It'd be nice, yes," Oliver grinned.
"Well, don't you and Isabella talk?" I was just being friendly.
"We're…more physical than that." He looked sheepish. "I try to talk, really, but she's really into cuddling silently and holding hands silently and snogging."
I raised an eyebrow. "In that order?"
"It'd be a weird order," Oliver acknowledged, "but pretty much…yes." He looked at me. "You seem the silent type, though. What do you and Drew talk about?" And we were moving down the hall again.
"Everything." In truth, Drew talked and I listened. I was a good listener; I've had years of practice with Alex. "And anything."
It seemed like the right thing to say.
"I wish Isabella and I were like that." Oliver gave one of his dramatic sighs. "I only wish that I knew what she liked…like, what she really liked…" Control, I thought to myself. "Or, what her favorite color was…" Black, I rolled my eyes a bit. "I even wish I knew what her favorite food was." People's souls. I smiled and nodded and pretended like it made sense to me.
Honestly, I still didn't see her appeal. She freaked me out. She more than freaked me out. She down-right frightened me.
"And I wonder if she knows what my favorites are?"
Before I realized it, the words were coming out of my mouth: "Obviously, your favorite sport is Quidditch. I'm assuming your favorite color is red or crimson because you wear a lot of it – er, and I think you told me once that you hate orange juice but prefer tea in the morning…but, don't quote me on that." I paused for a moment. "You detest Potions, but love Defense Against the Dark Arts. And, to be frank, you're not too shabby at Charms, either."
Oliver looked at me in shock. Merlin, I was in shock. How on earth did I retain that much knowledge about Oliver? It made me sound like a stalker.
And trust me; I am not an Oliver-stalker. Er, not a stalker…in general…
"Do you like, hide in my closet?" Oliver laughed.
We were in front of the double-doors leading to the Great Hall. The laughter and noise coming from within was loud, but I rolled my eyes and swiveled to face him. "No, I do not hide in your closet."
"Again, I guess I just talk a lot."
"Mostly about yourself, yes," I nodded but gave him a kind smile, nonetheless. Oliver gave me a sheepish, apologetic look. "Don't worry. I don't mean that in a mean way. I enjoy listening to people talk." So, it wasn't too bad of a lie. I did enjoy listening to people talking – I got to be an observer, and honestly, I was a good observer. I enjoyed listening to the people I liked, talk, anyway. Oliver…well, I tolerated him.
"Thanks, though," he held up his Potions notebook, "for this."
We both entered the Great Hall. The noise was almost deafening when we walked through the separated tables (it usually wasn't this loud) and we parted ways. I headed towards Fred and George, sitting across from a group of engrossed First Years. They were talking loudly about the creatures lurking within the confines of the Forbidden Forest. Oliver headed towards where Isabella and some of her minions were holding court, just a little bit past where I was at.
"They say there are werewolves in there," Fred said, pointing up towards the enchanted ceiling at the quarter moon. It was eerily pale, covered by thick and menacing clouds. "They say that if you listen carefully late at night…you can hear their howls…"
As if on cue, a howl echoed through the Great Hall. The chatter was silenced for maybe three seconds before it started up again. The Gryffindors within earshot of Fred's tale looked about curiously, wondering how Fred had managed to howl on cue. Fred, too, looked bemused at the howling.
"Stop scaring the First Years," Piper chided. "You're scarring them for life!"
"They're already scarred for life." Fred replied easily. "The lot of 'em have been freaking out over the fact that Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, sleeps in the dormitory next to theirs."
I scooted into an empty seat and was greeted warmly by the girls. "Charlotte! You're back! I'm glad you didn't decide to miss the feast. Was Oliver being a bugger?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isabella feeding Oliver a sausage that she had speared on her fork. I wanted to make gagging sounds. In her circle of girls, one of them looked up and met my gaze. If she had been a cat, she would have hissed – but instead, she sneered at me and turned her attention back towards Isabella.
"It's such a nice feast," Piper was admiring the decorations that lined the large tables. She reached over for a slice of pumpkin pie. "Halloween is always so nice here at Hogwarts."
"Not quite as eventful as some of the previous ones, I'll admit." Alex sighed. "Remember fifth year when a troll was in the castle?"
"Oh, dear Merlin," I shook my head. "I was too terrified to go to sleep! And you kept trying to reassure me that we were perfectly safe in our dormitories…but you failed so miserably!"
Alex pretended to look hurt. "I was just trying to help!"
At that moment, George interrupted our conversation by handing over a large plate of pastries. "Ladies, would you care for some pumpkin pastry?" he took a large bite out of the one he was holding in his other hand.
Our stomachs were bulging. Literally, bulging. After four pumpkin pastries, I didn’t think I was going to be able to eat anything else; this was contradicted, of course, when I managed to finish an entire slice of pumpkin pie followed by a small helping of pudding.
"Why do I always do this to myself?" Piper was asking Claudia, her voice pitiful as we scaled the staircase with the rest of the Gryffindors. "Why do I always insist on eating until I could literally burst?"
Claudia chuckled. "Because secretly, darling, you're a glutton."
Piper nodded, acknowledging truth. "I wish I wasn't. How you keep your figure, Claud, I'll never know."
We had climbed up towards the Portrait Hole when there was a sudden stop in traffic. We slammed against the bodies of other confused students.
"Oi, what's the hold up?" Alex demanded, towering over some fourth years. "I'm exhausted and I'd like to sleep tonight! Would you all care to make way?"
"We can't!" someone responded, a bit timidly. "The Fat Lady isn't in her portrait!"
"What nonsense is this?" Piper retorted, looking at me and rolling her eyes. "She's always in the bloody portrait!" Somehow, the two of them forced Claudia and I through the crowd, towards the common room.
However, we came to a dead stop in front of the portrait hole.
"Merlin…" Alex was examining the empty portrait frame. "Someone's violated her portrait!" she looked a bit panicked but tried to keep calm.
I pushed my face past hers and glanced. It was true. The Fat Lady was not in her portrait, or, really, what was left of it. It had been ripped, several gashes through the canvas and hung loosely from its nook.
"Excuse me! Pardon me! Head Boy coming through." Percy Weasley was shoving his way through the crowd, his nose held up with authority. "I said, make way! I am Head Boy!"
There were murmurs about getting McGonagall and Dumbledore and when Percy reached the frame, he let out a little squeak.
"Prefects! Prefects! Continue to watch these students while I go run and get McGonagall!" Percy Weasley squawked about like an irritated parrot, waving his arms dramatically so that his billowy sleeves floated about like clouds.
He pushed his glasses further up his nose and ran down the staircase frantically.
"What's going on?" Oliver had managed his way up to us, Isabella on his arm. While she fixated the other girls with a sharp sneer, she managed to give me a smile. Three pairs of eyes were on me as I looked away pointedly.
"Someone's violated her portrait," Alex explained as though she were explaining a simple math problem to an idiot.
"I can see that," Oliver replied. "What's going to be done about it? Who could've done such a thing?" His eyes trailed over the ripped portrait; bits of the canvas littered the floor and he grimaced.
McGonagall's commanding voice could be heard at that moment, bellowing and ordering all Gryffindors back towards the Great Hall. Although her voice was calm, orderly and collected, the look on her face said otherwise.
"You heard the lady," Piper said, looking pointedly at Oliver and his girlfriend. "We better get back to the Great Hall." She grabbed Claudia's hand and pulled her away.
"Let's go, Lotty," Alex turned her attention to me. The color had drained from her face and she looked quite terrified.
There was a massive shuffle of people. A girl seemed to be crying nearby and Percy's voice could still be heard shouting above the fray.
I blinked in disbelief – was this happening? Was this really, really happening? My heart was pounding so hard in my chest and I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
There was another traffic jam as students were caught amongst each other; simply too many were trying to get out at once. However, they parted when McGonagall and Dumbledore (their faces lined with worry – hers, more than his), made their way towards the shredded up portrait.
"Find her." Dumbledore commanded in that soft voice of his. "Mr. Filch, Minerva, look everywhere for her."
And at that moment, Peeves, our school poltergeist hovered over the still-panicking crowd. He gave a cackle, but when Dumbledore's sparking blue eyes landed on him, he stopped. "I don't think you'll find her, your Professorship." I knew he didn't dare sass Dumbledore; no one had the gall to sass him.
"And, why ever not?" Dumbledore narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.
The crowd had started moving again, but I couldn't get my feet to move. I was glued to the spot, my ear taking in the conversation between our Headmaster and the poltergeist.
"She's awfully ashamed," Peeves said, attempting not to cackle. "I saw her fleeing through some landscapes and she seemed to be crying rather loudly." He hovered, and Dumbledore motioned for McGonagall and Filch to go fetch her.
*"Did she say who did it?" I didn't like Dumbledore's tone of voice. It was too calm, as though he were trying very hard not to startle any of the remaining students.
"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves spun around in the air again and grinned at the Headmaster cheekily. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."*
My eyes were wide as I turned towards Alex, who was still clutching my arm. She pulled, then, and made us rejoin with the rest of the students. We were eventually met with the rest of the school in the Great Hall.
Shivers were already shooting up my spine. Fear gripped my heart and felt like my veins were icing up.
"I thought we'd be alright at Hogwarts," Alex said breathlessly. "With all the Dementors and all…"
Alex bit her lower lip and I gave her a shaky laugh. "Eventful enough for you, Alex?"
"Are you asleep, Charlotte?" there was a soft hum of voice next to my ear. It was masculine, familiar. My eyes fluttered, adjusting to the darkness. I could see the shadowy shapes of patrolling teachers.
"Drew?" I tried to sit up in my cot.
"Are you okay?" he reached out a pale hand and touched my cheek. "They told us that Gryffindor tower was attacked by Sirius Black?"
At the sound of the name, I involuntarily shuddered. "It was…unexpected." I whispered. "He tried to get into our tower…he even slashed open our portrait hole."
Although Drew and I had not been particularly…together for long, I saw the emotion rushing into his face. He leaned into me, wrapping his arms around my form. "They'll find him, don't worry. The teacher's have been patrolling all night."
"I'm not afraid," I said this earnestly and cast my eyes up the hallway where a sudden sparkle of a cloak gave away Albus Dumbledore's position. "As long as Dumbledore is at the helm of the school, I'm not afraid."
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Drew's voice was soft and suddenly, he was shy again. "Goodnight, Charlotte." He gave me a smile, another tight hug and crawled back to the Ravenclaw cots.
Through the moonlight, I saw another face looking at me.
"You like him a lot, don't you, Charlotte?" Oliver was smiling.
I gave him a shrug. What else could I do? I didn't want to admit how happy I was. I was truly, truly, afraid for how happy I felt. I didn't want to expect too much, just in case.
"He cares a lot for you." He said this knowingly, and nodded. "You can tell."
I shifted one of my brows upwards. "You mean a lot to your Isabella, too."
He looked a bit dissatisfied for a moment. "She's not mine," Oliver replied sleepily. "Isabella doesn't let herself belong to anyone. Go back to sleep." He waved me off and turned in his cot.
I didn't want to ponder what he meant. When was Oliver Wood ever philosophical, anyway? My mind didn't linger on it for long. I lay back down and pulled the sheets up to my chin. Eventful? Eventful was not the word to describe such a terrifying night. A serial killer could be stalking through Hogwarts right now and it had been too close a call for the Gryffindors.
Turning my head, I saw a boy sitting up in bed. His dark hair glistened in the moonlight. I yawned. What could Sirius Black honestly want at Hogwarts?
The answer was obvious. Harry Potter.
Poor boy. How guilty he must be feeling. How horrible it must be for him. I shook my head. It was not good to pity anyone. No one deserved pity – sympathy, yes; pity, no.
I shut my eyes and sleep reached its dark hand and released me from my thoughts. It had been a great day, and a dreadfully frightening night.
**Lines spoken by Dumbledore & Peeves at the end of that dialogue are direct quotes from the US Paperback version of Prisoner of Azkaban, page 161.
Authors Note: We're in the double-digits! How exciting. ^_^ Sirius Black is in the castle? What on earth are we going to do with that man? :P Thank you for sticking with me for 10 chapters! You all make me so happy. ;D
As usual, please leave your wonderful thoughts in reviews. I really do love reading them. ♥
Chapter 11: Shackles and Chains get in the Way
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Something I'm starting to slowly realize as this year progresses (a bit too slowly, I'll admit) – I don't like to talk much.
Sure, I have commentary from time to time and I do enjoy an intelligent conversation now and then, but the majority of the time, I find that I'm just an observer. I watch other people's lives as though I were watching some sort of movie (not a romantic comedy, I'm afraid – at least, not the kind my mum likes).
I seem to sit in an empty theater, watching their day-to-day lives through a lens. Every so often, they'll break the fourth wall and stare at me; their eyes will be expecting me to know something or to keep something a secret. They'll laugh with me and expect me to laugh; they'll share a tidbit of gossip with me or ask me for advice.
And, sometimes, I feel as though I'm unresponsive. I know my brain is causing my lips to move, and that perhaps a sound is coming through those lips (generated from my voice-box), answering the proposed question…but, still, I feel as though I'm not a part of that life.
Maybe I'm mad. Maybe I'm just some sort of freak. Am I the only one who feels this way? That I'm not meant to be a part of what the general whole? Forever singular and forever lonely?
Wow. That prospect sounds rather depressing, doesn't it?
Funny. I wouldn't have minded loneliness a few weeks ago and now it seems that I've grown rather attached to my ragtag team of comrades.
Drew's speaking to me about something. I should be listening extra hard; hoping to catch the few sentences that will paint a picture of exactly who Drew is. However, I find that I'm lost in my own thoughts again. It seems to be happening a lot, lately.
"Are you alright?" Drew's eyes are serious, honest. They're piercing me and I look up, a bit dazed.
"Hm?" I blink.
"Have you been listening?"
We were in the library – I preferred to think of it as our place – and we were studying for an upcoming Arithmancy test.
It was fairly empty. Actually, the entire school was fairly empty. It felt like we were the only two students who didn't really feel like going to the Quidditch match.
"You've been a bit out of it ever since that night Sirius Black broke into the castle." Blonde brows knit together with worry; lips slightly downturned.
I gave him a reassuring smile. "Just a bit lost in my thoughts, really. I suppose that that night sort of caused me to think a little bit."
He put down the quill he was writing with and leaned forward. "Think about what?"
"Who we all are." I said the answer slowly, unsure of what exactly I was thinking of. You know those thoughts that seem so jumbled up that it's hard to find an exact label for it? "For instance, did Sirius Black grow up thinking that he was going to become an extremely wanted and dangerous mass murderer?"
One of the windows in the library was cracked open and angry clouds moved across the sky. It looked like it was going to storm tonight.
"Interesting thoughts." Drew nodded. "I don't think anyone really wants to grow up believing that all they'll amount to being is a wanted mass murderer." And then his brows furrowed again in quick thought. "He can't be too much of an idiot, though; Azkaban prison must be exceedingly difficult to break out of."
"I wonder what he was like during his school days." I told him, my lips pouting slightly. "Who were his friends? You know, those basic things."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so interested in Sirius Black? Thinking about dating a mass murderer, instead? I heard that some witches are infatuated with some of the people in Azkaban and write them dozens of love letters."
In return, I gave Drew a quizzical look. "It's just spontaneous curiosity; he must've been a normal person at some point in his life."
"Well," Drew picked up his quill again; a sign that he wanted to get back to studying. "No use wasting time in idle thought."
Personally, I didn't think these thoughts were idle, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I went back over my Arithmancy notes. Outside, I swore I heard the cheering from the Quidditch pitch, but I wasn't sure.
Alex had begged me to go with her. Begged.
"It'll be fun!" She had exclaimed, throwing her arms up in an attempt to be over-dramatic.
"She doesn't if she doesn't want to," Claudia had said firmly. "Don't force her to do something she doesn't want to do." Her grey eyes stood out more than usual, today. I supposed it came from the grey hat she had put over her soft brown hair.
"Besides," Piper had drawled out lazily from the floor. "You'll be keeping her from Drew."
My cheeks turned red.
"That's true…" Alex looked disappointed. "Sigh. I just hope that when the time comes to choose between me and him, you choose me!"
"Why would I ever have to make that choice?" I rolled my eyes. "So mature, Alex."
"I can't help myself! I'm excited for today's game! It's against Slytherin – we better win."
"We've got Harry bloody Potter on our team!" Piper had cheered. "He's wonderful. Have you seen him chasing after that snitch?"
"Yes!" Alex screamed. "He's freaking perfect!"
"You don't sound like a creeper at all." I raised an eyebrow. "Going after the third years now, Alex? Talk about cougar status."
She grinned. "You know what they say about going after younger guys."
"No; I have no idea what they say about that sort of thing."
"If a woman wants a man to have the same life-expectancy as her, she better get one that's at least 5 years younger." She gave me a cheeky grin.
"Wow, Alex. I like that you retain useless information such as that, but somehow can't remember the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion." I gave a sigh. "It's like how Oliver can remember loads of plays from the Quidditch World Cup but can't seem to muster up the brain power to recall the steps needed to create a Draught of Living Death."
"You're talking like Snape," Piper made a face. "I didn't take Advanced Potions for a reason. The less I see of that man, the better."
We were then walking down the steps and entered the common room. Fred and George were dressed in their Quidditch gear and grinning ear to ear. Typical of them, really.
"Going to the game, Lots?" They inquired of me.
"Er, no." I shook my head. "I'm heading off to the library to study."
They looked devastated. "But, but Lots," George then blubbered, "it's against Slytherin!"
I pulled a face. "I have no problems with Slytherin house."
The four of them (twins plus Piper and Alex) gasped out loud. Then, a mixture of "Lotty!" and "Lots!" and "Charlotte!"
I blinked a few times. "Er, you didn't know that I'm completely neutral when it comes to these things?"
"Even the bloody Hufflepuffs are biased for their own kind! I mean, look how much they worship that Diggory fellow."
"Sixth year; delicious." Alex answered my blank stare.
Claudia just said nothing, but her lips were twitching in amusement.
Suddenly, I snapped out of the memory. Drew's face came into focus; he was scribbling down, his face serious with concentration.
I wondered if Claudia felt the same way – an observer, rather than the lead in the movie.
"Do you need some help with that?" I gestured to the difficult problem he was working on.
"I think I've got the gist of it…" he frowned, "but I can't seem to answer problem eight."
"Ah," I nodded knowingly and leaned closer to the parchment. "Well, first off, you haven't been using the correct formula."
We had studied for about two hours when my stomach gave a grumble. Drew looked up from his work and glanced at his wristwatch. "Oh, it's 'bout time for dinner, isn't it?"
"Uh," I blinked, my eyes slightly glazed over from staring at my notes for too long. I turned against the chair – I felt my back crack slightly – and glanced at the large clock. "Oh, I believe it is."
Drew started shuffling his papers and shut his book. "I'll walk you to dinner." He grinned at me.
"A-Alright." I felt my face turn hot and quickly began to gather up my things. I must've been gathering too quickly because I clumsily knocked over my quills and my ink bottle. It rolled along the ground and I hastily bent down to pick it up.
Drew must've too because under the table, we bumped heads and our fingers touched each other over the bottle.
We both flinched and leapt up. I hit my head against the table while Drew made a graceful leap and then went back to grab the ink bottle.
"Sorry…" I mumbled at the same time he murmured, "My apologies."
I snuck a look at him. His face was as red as I felt. My cheeks were probably matching the Gryffindor crest I had on my robes.
And then something happened that I didn't expect.
We both started laughing.
"I'm kind of clumsy," I smiled at him.
"It happens to the best of us." He shyly handed the bottle back to me and I slipped it into my book-bag. "Shall we be going?"
I nodded and reached for my books but Drew had already snatched them up. With cheeks that matched my own, he held out his free hand to me. His face was slightly scrunched up and he tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing, but his cheeks gave him away.
My fingers slipped into his grasp and he held on tightly.
All the while, my heart hammered as we began our journey to the Great Hall. Maybe, to some couples, these moments felt like eternity but to me, it was fleeting.
I knew that it would take maybe five or six minutes to reach the Great Hall from the library but it felt like three seconds before he walked me to my friends and let my hand fall away from his.
Drew's lips were smiling as he set down my books on the Gryffindor table and said softly, "I'll see you later, Charlotte…" before engulfing me in a tight hug and moving away.
I turned my attention to my friends. They all seemed to be rather glum – none of that rah-rah go-go Gryffindor ruckus from earlier that day.
"What's wrong with you lot?" I inquired, raising a brow as I scooted into my seat. I was slightly shocked (and slightly pleased) that they hadn't commented on holding hands with Drew.
"We loooooooost." Alex whined, drawing out the vowels in a pathetic-sounding voice.
"To bloody Hufflepuff." Piper added.
The two of them were slumped over the table, looking depressed and disappointed.
"Didn't you all say that we were playing Slytherin this morning?" I was confused. I don't think that I had heard wrong…
"We were supposed to play that lot." Piper nodded towards the Slytherin table across the hall from us. "I don't know what happened, but we ended up playing Hufflepuff, instead."
"Wasted practices," George Weasley joined in the conversation with a glum voice. "So many wasted practices! We had been trying to defensively counter Slytherin, but we couldn't use any of that! Hufflepuff plays completely differently than them and Diggory seems to have trained them well."
That name again. Cedric Diggory?
"Sixth year; delicious." Alex answered again, in response to my blank stare.
"Not so bloody delicious now." Piper replied over the rumble of thunder coming from both the enchanted ceiling and the outside sky. "Potter was bloody pummeled."
"Isn't he supposed to be really good?" I raised a brow.
"It was awful," Claudia chimed in. She had just arrived at the table. Her brown hair was windswept and she was rather pink in the face. "It started storming halfway through the game. No one could really see anything because of all the clouds and there was lightning flashing around. I don't blame Potter for falling."
"And the Dementors," Alex gave a sudden shiver. "We had all been shouting and screaming and trying to make the best of the situation when they arrived." She took a deep breath and took a sip from her goblet. "As soon as they approached the pitch, you could feel it – the happiness, the warmth absolutely sucked from your body."
"Potter and Diggory were chasing the snitch," Piper explained.
At another one of my blank looks, Claudia supplied for me, "the little gold ball with wings that flies around. The first team that has their seeker catch the snitch is awarded 150 points and the game is over."
"They went up into the clouds – Merlin knows how high they went – and we couldn't see a thing. Wood had it rough too. Those Hufflepuff chasers had gotten better with Diggory's training and he had let in two goals."
"Ugh, and then out of nowhere, the Dementors came and five minutes later, Potter comes falling out of the sky without his broom."
"His Nimbus was blown into the Whomping Willow." Alex cringed. "It was smashed to smithereens, but Potter was totally unconscious when he hit the ground."
Claudia nodded, her face was now pale; the pink cheeks of before were gone.
"Where's Oliver now?" I looked around. I didn't see him anywhere.
I did spot Isabella sitting with a blonde. She looked displeased, but more disappointed. She kept glancing at her watch and glaring at the door.
"Probably still sulking," Fred replied with a grimace. "He was still in the showers when we had gone up to see Potter in the Hospital Wing."
"How is the kid?" Piper inquired.
"Seems to be alright." Was the reply she received. "He's more depressed over the fact that his broom's been destroyed."
"I can't believe you guys left Wood alone in the showers!" There was another voice that joined the depressing conversation. It was Katie Bell, one of the Gryffindor chasers who had originally tried to convince me to tutor Oliver.
"Er, what?" I was confused.
"He's quite sentimental about these things," Katie explained, sending George and irritated look. "He's under a lot of stress because it's his last year and his last chance to get the House Cup. Merlin knows how hard Oliver's been working – it's a big blow to lose to Hufflepuff when we were prepared to dominate over Slytherin."
I still didn't really know what she meant, but ignored it.
"It's alright, though," Alex replied knowingly. "You can make it up with Ravenclaw. Smash them by a hundred!"
At that moment, an irritated and somewhat saddened Oliver walked into the Great Hall. He was sending Hufflepuff dirty looks the entire time he loped over to the table.
The warmly dressed Hufflepuffs were too busy shouting and celebrating and shooting one of the tall boys admired looks.
"Oi, Wood; you're still alive!" Fred called out good naturedly.
He received no response as Wood approached Isabella and sat down beside her. She tried smoothing back his windswept hair but he seemed to want none of it. Now more annoyed, Isabella moved away from him and joined some other friends farther down the table.
"Poor bloke," George sighed. "We should go join him before he decides to return to the showers."
I guess I felt bad for Oliver. I knew he was working hard, particularly in Potions, but was a Quidditch match worth all the effort? Or exhaustion?
The twins stood from their spots and practically leapt over to Oliver. With identical grins plastered on their faces, they began their plan of cheering him up.
"Difficult loss," Piper grimaced. "I mean, it's Hufflepuff."
"Hey…" Claudia spoke up with a raised brow. "Theo's a Hufflepuff."
"Nothing against Hufflepuffs," Alex supplied. "Generally, they're nice…awesome folks but in the case of Quidditch…"
Claudia stayed silent with her brow still raised.
"He was rather polite today, though," Alex told me in an aside. "Even though he was rooting for Hufflepuff, he sat with us and didn't cheer when Hufflepuff scored. Well, his face was cheerful about it enough but he tried to keep it neutral. Quite thoughtful, don't you think?"
"Sure." I grinned.
Piper cleared her throat and glanced at me. "Don't think we're not going to bring up that smile on your face…"
I wiped the grin off my face. "What smile? I'm devastated that we lost!"
"Sarcasm just doesn't look good on you, Lotty," Alex retorted with a sly grin. "So, is that the level you've progressed to with Drew? Hand holding? What's next…snogging?"
"SHH. KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!" I snapped, throwing my arms around her neck and clasping a hand over her mouth. "Way to let everyone know what's going on!"
"Sorry, sorry…" she tried to get out of my grasp, "I just wasn't aware that things had gotten so…intimate with him…"
My face was flushed. "Just because we were holding hands doesn't mean that we've suddenly progressed to some amazingly high level! I barely know him. I don't think I'll go around kissing boys I barely know, thanks."
"Goodness!" Alex replied. "Don't have to be so prudish." She rolled her eyes. "After all, you've been stalking him for Merlin-knows-how-long…"
"I have not!"
"Have too!"
"Have not!"
And that was how the rest of dinner went. It was strange, to be honest, how quickly things had returned to normal after the Sirius Black scare. You'd think that there would still be panicked looks towards secluded and dark corners or parents pulling students out or something.
"It was probably a false alarm." Piper had answered when I had commented on the strangeness of it all. "The Fat Lady must have had her visions wrong or whatever because I don't think it really happened. How can it be possible that Sirius Black would break into Hogwarts?"
"True," Claudia had remarked softly. "You've seen all the Dementors. And the weather's been absolutely rubbish, lately. How could he have snuck in here under Dumbledore's eye?"
"Well, the Fat Lady refuses to return to her portrait." I frowned. "And I've never seen her so afraid in my entire life. I don't understand why she'd refuse if there wasn't something legitimately terrifying."
"Maybe she's just embarrassed; I mean, I would if I thought Sirius Black was really in the castle."
"Honestly," Alex interrupted. "I'm not as worried as why the Fat Lady refuses to return. I'm more worried about the stupid Knight painting that we've got guarding our Common Room and finding a job for after Hogwarts." She was frowning now, too. "He's changed the password at least ten times by now and I don't know what the most recent one is."
We had reached the Portrait hole. "Uh…" Piper looked at me for guidance.
"…Scurvy cur?" I inquired, as that was the password earlier on in the day.
The Knight bustled on about how it was duty to protect and how that was the incorrect password. He rambled about how we must have been false students and how he would never let us into the common room.
Claudia surprised us all. "Oddsbodikins?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
He frowned, as if curious how we knew this and began another rant about something else. Honestly, by this time, I had stopped listening to his ramble.
"Just open up, won't you?" I asked hotly, tapping my foot impatiently.
The Knight grumbled about impatient students and traitors and swung open.
"How'd you know that?" We asked Claudia once inside the room.
"Heard a prefect complaining about it earlier." She gave a serene sort of smile. "And you can't deny that Percy Weasley hasn't been irritated over it, either."
"That much is true…" I had to agree. Percy was in my Charms class and he was beyond aggravated over the fact that Sir what's-his-face has been changing the password. "Does anyone actually even know the Knight's name?"
"More like, supposed knight." Alex gave her eyes another roll. "What's he playing act, anyway? How is he supposed to guard us when he won't even let us into the common room to begin with?"
"He's the only one that volunteered, to be honest," a prefect swooped in on our conversation. I believe her name was Patricia, but I wasn't sure. I had seen her often, scolding and acting under Percy's direct orders. It was a rumor that she was in love with the bigheaded Head Boy, but I couldn't confirm it.
(Yes! Gasp! I, Charlotte Murray, actually know a tidbit of gossip! Shoot me dead and feed me to a prancing Hippogriff why don't you…)
"All the other portraits have been too terrified to do the job." She gave a smile and left as quickly as she had appeared. We watched her flutter over to Percy and preen at his compliment.
"Doesn't he have a girlfriend?" Alex was asking as we sat at one of the side-tables. "A Ravenclaw…what's her name…"
"You've got me." I frowned.
Fine, so, I only know a tiny tidbit about a single almost unknown Gryffindor girl…but, I was semi-proud of myself. At least I knew something.
"Who in their right mind would want to date him?" Piper inquired almost loudly. "He's pigheaded and arrogant and totally, absolutely not even worth a look at."
Claudia's eyes glowed with amusement but she kept her thoughts to herself.
"So," a sudden thought triggered my launch into the topic of the future, "when do you think we'll need to be turning in job applications?"
Alex's face drained of color and Piper looked away pointedly.
"By the end of December, I believe." Claudia said slowly, after her face morphed into one of deep thought. "I think McGonagall was reminding her Transfiguration class about it this afternoon."
"Er," Alex frowned. "Shows how much I've been paying attention in Transfiguration…"
"I don't even know what I want to do with my life!" Piper exclaimed suddenly. "I don't know what I'm going to do after school! Hell, I don't even know what I'm going to do tomorrow!"
I gave her a smile. "I think I'm going to be an Unspeakable."
She nodded. "You've certainly got the capacity for it, Charlotte."
"I won't need to apply for anything." Claudia mumbled softly. "My parents have got enough money for me to live off of." She looked somewhat dissatisfied with her response. "I envy the three of you. My mum won't let me apply for anything."
At this, my lips turned wryly upwards. "At least your mum isn't forcing you to become something you don't want to…"
I didn't even know what I was saying. Hadn't I agreed to become one? Hadn't this been the decision I had based my school courses on? Hadn't this been the idea that McGonagall and my mum had agreed on?
"But, Lotty," Alex cocked her head to the right, her expression bemused. "Haven't you been planning this since Second Year?"
One of Oliver's strange sentences echoed in my mind for a moment. What do you want?
What did I want? What did I want to do with my life? What did I want to explore or experience? Why was I a puppet for my mum and her own aspirations?
Claudia's eyes fell on mine and for a moment, I felt a sudden connection with her. It was a strange feeling; one of those that you really can't explain. For a moment, I felt closer to Claudia than I did with Alex – and, just on the basis of how long I had known the both of them…was contradictory with my thoughts.
"So we're both the same," Claudia raised a dark brow and her lips quirked themselves into what was supposed to be a smile of sorts. "Our mums are set on controlling our futures."
Piper and Alex exchanged looks and Alex had a particularly strange look on her face when I answered. "I guess so…"
Author's Note: Last update before the queue closes! ^_^ As you've probably seen from my Author's page, I'm going to be on holiday in China until August 22! But, have no fear! I will have my laptop so as soon as the queue opens up again, I'm going to be tossing in new chapters.
Thank you all, again, for sticking with me for so long. I'm still working on review responses but I love you all & appreciate you guys taking the time to leave one. ♥
Chapter Twelve: Pretty Down to your Bones
"Disappointment doesn't look good on you." I said wryly as I fixed Oliver with a curious look.
He looked absolutely exhausted and had dark bags underneath his eyes. His skin was pasty looking and his hair seemed dull and lifeless.
"Or," I paused, "is it worry?"
Oliver said nothing but ran a hand through the lifeless hair, trying to revive it somewhat. He turned a page in the Advanced Potions book.
Ever since Gryffindor had lost to Hufflepuff two Sundays ago, Oliver had been strangely quiet. His face had lost its animated expression of excitement and instead, was replaced with a sort of defeated look that I had never seen before.
And, to be honest, for once, I was trying to make conversation because the silence was quite uncomfortable. Usually, I didn't mind it, but Oliver's silence was smothering. It pushed down on my chest and caused me to gasp for breath.
"I think you'll do fine on the next Potions test." I was rambling and we both knew it. "You've been working hard."
It was rare for me to acknowledge his efforts but what else could I do? Oliver looked up at me and surveyed his tired eyes on my face.
"Really?" there was a hint of hope in his voice.
"Yes." I gave a timid smile. "I'm sure even Snape's noticed it."
There was a snort.
"You don't believe me?" I raised a brow. "He hasn't been making snarky comments about your scores now, has he?"
"Well, no…" Oliver's brows furrowed. "But he hasn't said anything about them, either."
I rolled my eyes. "You've had Potions for the last six years and you still think that Snape would acknowledge one's accomplishments?"
"He acknowledges yours…" Oliver's voice was gruff. Hoarse. He seemed almost sickly.
"No, he doesn't," I bowed my head. It would've been nice if Snape recognized my accomplishments in Potions, but I knew better than to expect something that wasn't going to happen. "He just passes back the homework and tests without so much as a word to me."
"He doesn't pick on you." Oliver said pointedly.
I grinned. "No. He often questions why I do certain things in his class, though." I gave him a slight frown. "They're always brief questions but never really…any disapproval about it."
Oliver nodded. There was a slight pause – a hitch – in our conversation. "Thanks, Charlotte."
He caught me off guard.
"What?"
"Thanks." Oliver repeated slowly. "For helping me out so much." He looked like he was going to say something else, but he seemed to be fighting an inner battle. "I don't know…if…it's going to do any good, though."
The words came out slow and unsure.
"I mean, the entire purpose was to keep me as Captain of the House Team and…um, I don't think…that it matters whether or not I stay as Captain…" the look on his face said that he didn't exactly know what he was talking about.
I narrowed my eyes.
"The team's been through a lot and well…I suppose I've been…" he couldn't continue because he seemed to be in sudden pain. "I haven't been the best Captain…" and then he mumbled something about neglecting the team and how it was his fault that they lost.
"You're bloody kidding me, right?" I hissed in a low voice. We were in a library. "I don't think I've ever seen Oliver Wood being such a crybaby."
Oliver's cheeks flushed in a way that gave his ghostly appearance human life.
"You're giving up…is this what I'm hearing?"
"I'm not giving up!" Oliver hissed back. "I'm just trying to do what's best for the team!"
I gave my eyes a roll. "Clearly, you're not. Look at you! You look freaking terrible." I pointed at his face. "Pasty skin, dark circles under your eyes…lifeless…dull…hair!" I jabbed him in the chest.
I didn't realize that I could be so aggressive, but, the notion that Oliver was willing to give up really bothered me. It just didn't make sense.
All the hard work. All the issues that he had pushed through – were they were nothing? Were they so easily tossed away?
"Maybe I'm tired of it all," Oliver's voice was cracked halfway through his sentence so that he squeaked when he said tired. "Bugger it all! They spring Hufflepuff on me at the last moment when we had been training to kill Slytherin!" He was aggravated and frustrated and he demonstrated it by slamming his fist against the desk.
I flinched and Madam Pince came bustling over, her glasses set on the tip of her nose as she peered down at us in disapproval.
"Wasn't me," Oliver replied, pointing over to a random corner. "You might want to check over there."
I gave her a slight smile as she rushed over to where he had pointed.
"How could I have been so stupid?" Oliver turned back to me, his eyes blazing. "So ignorant, focusing only on how to defeat Slytherin when we should have had tactics that were full-proof."
I crossed my arms. "You're learning from your mistakes, why give up now?"
Oliver let out a loud sigh. "I'm so angry with myself. So annoyed with all of it. Why did Slytherin pull out at the last moment? Why did it have to be Hufflepuff? Why did Dementors have to attack and caused our bloody seeker to be tossed from his broom? Why was the weather so terrible? Luck wasn't on our side!"
If he was standing, Oliver would have kicked something over.
"And Isabella won't speak to me at all. She's angry with me because I ignored her after the game. The team's disappointed in me and the results."
"Boo freaking hoo, Wood." I crossed my arms. "You have so many issues and you don't know what to do so you're going to crawl into a hole and disappear, right? Because that's just the best bloody plan."
"Like you understand," Oliver snapped back. Our voices were gradually increasing in volume. "You act like the bloody ice queen when you're with me – like, I should be honored that you sacrifice your precious time to come teach the invalid some Potions."
"You all question why on earth I'm a Gryffindor when I'm the only who should be questioning why you are one!" I stood up from the table, hoisting my book bag over my shoulder. "At least I fight for what I want." I ignored his ice-queen statement.
"You don't even know what you want!" Oliver retorted.
"QUIET! QUIET! QUIET!" Madam Pince had returned, wiser to our ways and was snapping at us horribly. "THE LIBRARY IS NOT A PLACE TO BE SHOUTING!"
In any other situation, the irony of the situation would have caused a laugh. However, we both just sat down and glared at each other mutely.
"Have some bloody sympathy for me, Charlotte," Oliver replied quietly after a long silence. "You do know how to be sympathetic, right?"
Aggravated, a little offended and more than over the situation, I frowned. "Do you want me to hex you to Kingdome Come?"
"I'm tired! And Snape works us all like dogs." He thwacked the Advanced Potions book. "How am I to focus on Quidditch when I've got his leering face in my mind?"
Pity caused me to loosen my frown. I suppose that I had overreacted a little. Okay, more than a little; I sort of exploded at Oliver.
As much as I didn't want to admit it, it wasn't entirely Oliver's fault, either. I had been stressing over future-job applications and this was just the match underneath my cannon.
"I'm sorry for exploding," I said with a sigh. "Many things on my mind." I closed the Potions book and withdrew from my book-bag my Ministry applications. "I've been wondering about whether or not I really want to do this."
Oliver looked up at me.
"My mum's wanted me to be in the Ministry for Merlin knows how long. And really, for the longest time, I thought that was what I wanted, too."
"You should do whatever makes you happy, Charlotte." Oliver gave me a serious look. "And if that isn't what's going to make you happy, don't do it."
"Mum says it's all a waste of my potential if I don't and I so don't want to disappoint her!"
"You won't," he was very stern on this statement, "because she'll be proud of you no matter what you do."
"You don't know my mum."
He raised a brow. "Yes, but I know mums in general."
"You sound like a female."
The tension between us evaporated with this conversation. We had gone from two stressed out, angry and angst-ridden teens to two adults having a regular conversation.
"Mum doesn't want me to play Quidditch, but she'll accept it because it's my life, not hers." He tapped his fingers against his desk. "I think you and my mum would get along famously."
It was my turn to raise a brow. "Really, now? How so?"
"Well, for starters," he grinned. "You both adore scolding me to death."
I frowned, but not seriously, "Oh-ho, aren't you funny?!"
"And well," he gestured at my hair. "She's a redhead as well, and I believe your personalities are rather similar in many ways."
"Ha. Honestly, I don't think you know me very well, Mister Wood."
It was my turn to be surprised. "I think I know you better than you think I do, Charlotte." He continued drumming his fingertips against the wood. "I know that you aren't as sure of your future as you seem, and that you're deathly afraid of flying." He looked amused because my expression was rather smug. "I know that you live and breathe orange juice in the morning and strangely have a dislike for tea." Oliver grinned as the smugness started to vanish. "I know you really do enjoy Potions – I don't know why, but I know that you do – and that you have always hated Defense Against the Dark Arts and are absolute rubbish at Transfiguration work, even though you always did the bookwork well."
I blinked a few times.
"Should I continue?"
So, Oliver sort of knew what I was like…sort of.
"I know that you're afraid to disappoint your family, and that even though you often complain about your complaining mother, you love her very much. I know that she means a lot to you and that's why you're willing to forsake your own happiness for hers. I know that although you put on this persona – a façade, if you will – of being happy when you're alone, you're not. You value your friendships above everything else; even if you pretend that it doesn't matter to you. I know that you pretend to have a thick skin when comments really do get to you."
I tried to hide the smile that was spreading itself over my lips. "Very good, Mister Wood." I managed. "It seems you know me quite well, but not very well."
And then he said something that surprised me. "You're a bit like Isabella, Charlotte." He ran a hand lazily through his hair, his tone totally nonchalant. "You try so hard to be someone that you're not; hiding away behind a façade and a shell of your actuality."
I was standing in the owlery, the Ministry application tucked firmly in my gloved hand. Was this really the path I wanted to choose? To go and become a junior Unspeakable on the path towards becoming an actual one?
My thoughts were interrupted when a gloved hand placed itself on my shoulder.
"Debating something, Miss Murray?" Professor Lupin's tired face smiled at me.
"Uh, yes, I suppose…" I stuttered, a bit embarrassed that he had caught me.
His eyes travelled from my face to the application in my hand. "The Ministry? You have high aspirations."
I found myself saying, "My mum has high aspirations, sir."
"Ah." His tone did not change and neither did his expression. It was pleasantly neutral and he surveyed the flock of owls. "I, myself, am here to send off a letter." They scanned over the plain Barn Owls with their pale faces and the small Elf Owls. "And on that note, I find myself also debating on whether or not this note should be sent."
"Interesting," I murmured. "And what keeps you from sending it?"
A small smile tugged at the corners of his tired lips. "Pride, maybe," Lupin turned his attention back to me. "Typical trait of the Gryffindor house." He sounded a bit amused. "I recall from our last conversation, Miss Murray –"
I interrupted him. "Charlotte, sir."
"Well, I recall from our last conversation, Charlotte," he said my name pointedly but good-naturedly. "That I told you not to call me 'sir' and that you discussed with me your dislike of the subject Defense Against the Dark Arts?" he added the last part conversationally, and with a smile as he turned his attention back towards the owls.
"Uh, yeah," I scrunched up my brows in thought. "I believe so…sorry."
"No need to apologize." Lupin softly petted the breast of one of the owls and it cooed, leaning against his finger pleasantly. "Just out of idle curiosity – which course is your favorite?"
The answer was immediate. "Potions, si-" I caught myself in time. "Potions." I said again, more firmly.
He turned back and looked at me, his face one of surprise. "Really?" He sounded truly interested. "Potions? A Gryffindor?" And then his voice became soft. "I only knew of one other Gryffindor who adored Potions." Lupin's eyes lingered on my hair. "She was also redheaded, like you."
Self-consciously, I touched my red hair.
"You do not mind Professor Snape?" he allowed one of the owls to hop onto his finger (it was an Elf Owl) and Lupin let his arm rise and fall, testing the owl's weight.
"No, I do not." I replied. "He's never once picked on me or has ever given me any grief. I'm thankful for my good marks in his class."
Lupin gave me a wry smile and started to laugh. "First time I've ever heard of a student compliment Snape. He must like you."
I pulled my lips into a confused sort of line. "I wouldn't say that he likes me, Professor, more that he's quite neutral to me."
A shrug of his shoulders told me that Lupin would not judge whatever I said, so I continued our conversation. "And if you really must…know…I am debating on whether or not to send this application."
"Worried that you won't get it?"
"Worried that I will."
My response must have surprised him because he turned rather quickly, startling the little owl, which went fluttering off.
"I don't want to sound arrogant or give off any such impression," I explained quickly. "But I do realize that I have high marks in my classes and excellent recommendations from McGonagall, Flitwick and Professor Vector. It seems likely that I'll be accepted into their Ministry ranks, but I'm afraid that I'll be unhappy."
"If I understand it," Lupin furrowed his brows in thought. "You are going to apply because it is what your mum intends you to become, and you don't wish to disappoint her." I nodded. "However, you're afraid that this isn't the correct path for you to choose, and thus, will become unhappy and eventually hate your career choice?"
"Yes," and then I frowned, "but when you put it that way, the choice seems rather obvious."
"I see that people have been giving you some advice on the matter."
I thought of Oliver. "Well, yes."
"And you're still considering sending that application?" he eyed it.
"It's a brilliant career choice and it would make my mum proud. It would provide stable income for my family and 'fulfill my potential'…whatever that means…" I replied slowly. "And I'm sure that one could become used to anything if at it long enough…"
"Spoken like a true Existentialist." He replied with a wolfish grin. "Why hesitant, then? It seems as though your choice has been made."
I nodded. "Yes." And then I stepped forwards into the owlery, looking up into the rafters are the snoozing birds. "Which would you suggest for a quick delivery?"
Lupin's eyes were sparkling when he pointed at an excited looking Long-Eared Owl.
"I like Professor Lupin," I said randomly at dinner. The conversation that Piper and Claudia were having stopped; they both turned to look at me. "What? Can't I say something random without having you all act like the world's gone and gotten itself blown up?"
"He's a nice teacher," Claudia agreed, "but he has such shabby robes."
Our eyes went up towards the Professor, who was sitting at the foot of the table, calmly eating his soup with a spoon whilst reading the Daily Prophet.
"And all those malicious scars on his face." Piper added. "I wonder how he got them. Some kind of fight, maybe? He is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, you know."
"Hmm, maybe." I chewed silently. "Anyways, have you all seen Alex? She seems to have vanished lately."
"Oh," Piper looked about. "I think she's been nagging Professor Sprout for a recommendation letter."
I stopped chewing. "For what?"
Claudia set her grey eyes on me. "Our Alexandra wants to be an assistant to Mister Jenkins Auldberry. He's quite the famous botanist and he's set to travel to India and China this summer to study some rare species of whatever it is."
Ah, I recalled Alex telling me about him.
"She's eager to finish her application and send it off." Claudia sounded wistful.
"I've sent mine off, as well," Piper replied. "I've applied to Gringotts and many of their branches abroad." She smiled. "Hopefully, they'll consider me for a Curse-Breaker. Merlin, I wouldn't mind a desk job! Anything to get me away from my two cranky aunts."
"Me, too." I suddenly said, feeling quite awkward about it. "I've only sent one, though."
Piper's eyes bulged. "And what if you get rejected?"
"I won't…" I said this slowly and she gave me an almost scornful look. "I'm not arrogant! I just…know…" my lips twitched.
"Well," Piper tried to hide her disapproval. After all, she had been one of the few who had acknowledged that an Unspeakable was quite the job for me. "I wish you luck, Charlotte."
Claudia also smiled. "An Unspeakable remains one for their entire life. I hope you are making a wise choice."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Me too."
The rest of dinner went by rather quickly. Alex returned with dirt on her hands (I charmed them off because frankly, it was disgusting) and a sloppy grin on her face. Sprout had agreed to the recommendation letter. Apparently, all that Alex needed to do was to agree to repot some of her more exotic plants.
We argued with the stupid Knight that insisted on changing the ridiculous password and entered the common room.
Isabella, it seemed, was still furious at Oliver. She sat across the room from him and never looked up once. Oliver, on the other hand, looked miserable, and kept glancing up at her from his textbook.
"Lover's quarrel?" Piper hissed as we walked past.
Isabella's eyes rose, briefly, and connected with mine.
I prayed that she wouldn't greet me. I hoped that she wouldn't smile at me. I wished that she would never acknowledge my presence
"I suppose so." I felt my lips molding the words, my eyes still locked with Isabella's. Her lips quirked into a strange sort of sadistic smile.
"Has anyone else noticed that the she-devil has turned down her torture?" Piper was tapping her fingers against the window sill. "I find it strangely suspicious."
Alex was staring at me from across the room. "Yes, I agree with you on that." Her gaze turned towards Piper. "I don't know what she's planning, but I don't like it."
"Let's hope it isn't some sort of ridiculous public humiliation." Piper retorted. "I was quite surprised today when I was out with Richie. He was telling me something when we were approached by his girlfriend and Isabella." Her brow furrowed. "Elise came over and practically sucked the air out of Richie's lungs. She's absolutely smothering. I hate how she has to baby-talk when she speaks to him! It makes her look that much more stupid."
"She's always been daft," Alex replied. "I don't know how on earth she managed to get into Ravenclaw."
"Or Advanced Potions, N.E.W.T level." I replied. I had trouble believing that even Oliver had gotten into the course, sometimes.
"Anyways," Piper continued her story after we had ceased our comments about Elise's character. "Isabella set her dark eyes on me, right? And right away, I knew something was going to happen but I wasn't really sure what. She looked at me," Piper raised her chin and looked directly into Claudia's eyes, "and sort of pulled her lips into this strange smile…"
I was reminded of the smile she had given me in the common room. The one that had sent chills down my spine.
"What were you doing with Richie, Piper?" Claudia's inquiry had nothing to do with Isabella.
Piper looked surprised at Claudia's question. "We were just hanging out."
Claudia didn't look convinced, but she said nothing. I thought it was weird that Claudia would inquire something like that of her friend.
"Should I not be seeing Ritchie?" Piper asked, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.
I closed my eyes for a moment, willing the tension to disperse.
"Do you want my honest opinion?" Claudia replied. "Because I'm not sure if you want to hear it, Piper."
I had never heard Claudia speak to her friend in such a tone before. It was a mixture of disapproval and arrogance.
"Yes, dear," Piper's words were like a poison cloud hanging thickly in the air. "I would love to hear what you have to say about the matter." Her sarcasm cut that cloud, and I half expected it to rain venom-laced rain over Claudia.
She didn't look too bothered, though. "I don't think you should hang around that boy too much, Piper." Claudia responded in such a way that shocked Alex and I. Her tone was not the familiar tone of coolness that we were used to hearing. It was almost mocking, as though she knew something that we didn't.
"And why, pray tell, should I not?" Piper retorted. "I get to pick the company I keep, thanks."
"Because he's bad news." Claudia's haughty tone was replaced with one of severity. "He's really bad news."
"He can't be too bad," I spoke up and the two of them stopped glaring and turned towards me.
"What?" They echoed, voices joined in unison.
"Well," I felt awkward cutting into the argument, but I did have a valid point to make, "he is Drew's rather good friend. I don't really see Drew as the sort of fellow who hangs around people who could potentially be that bad…" At the end of my sentence, my voice sort of dropped in volume because the intensity of which Claudia was staring at me frightened me.
Piper looked, however, thankful for my remark.
"That's just bloody great, isn't it?" Claudia said in a dangerous voice. "A wonderful way to evaluate one's character!" I felt my face redden slightly. "We should run everyone by Drew, first, Charlotte. Thank you for the suggestion."
She didn't roll her eyes, but she might as well. Her statement caused my cheeks to flame with embarrassment. I was just trying to make a point; to save Piper some face.
"Don't get defensive just because Charlotte's right." Piper retorted, her own face flaming red. "Ritchie is not a sort of bloke that…"
"He's bad news, Piper."
"He's not the sort of bloke that leads a girl on and then leaves her in the dust, Claudia." Her voice rose in volume. "Not every boy is going to be the same as Barrett!"
There was a hush. Claudia's face tightened ever-so-slightly. Her cheeks were suddenly as ruddy as my Gryffindor scarf and I could see that she looked incredibly angry.
Piper must've realized what she had said, because she shut her mouth almost immediately and held a fist to her lips.
"You didn't go there…did you, Piper?" Claudia's eyes filled with a sudden hurt that overwhelmed the rest of her features. They glistened, and her lip trembled.
"I'm sorry, Claud," Piper was saying. "I don't know what overcame me…"
But her apologies fell on deaf ears. Claudia had exited the room in a hurry, attempting to keep her face stony and unemotional.
"Just my bloody luck and my sodding mouth," Piper groaned. "Why did I have to bring up the one thing that she hates to have mentioned the most?"
Alex gave Piper a simple pat on the shoulder, and gazed out the door thoughtfully.
I was beginning to wonder if Isabella even had to get involved. It seemed like we had already begun to fray around the edges.
"You do fancy Ritchie though, don't you?" I asked softly, hoping that Piper wouldn't blow up at my question.
Thankfully, she was more preoccupied with how she had upset her best friend. "Unfortunately," Piper sighed, "he makes butterflies fly up in my stomach. I wish he wasn't attached to that disgusting Elise."
I recalled how Isabella's lips curled when she had said Elise's Ritchie.
"Is it wise to fancy a boy who has a girlfriend?" It was Alex that asked, and I looked up quickly. I was surprised that this girl who liked to chatter all the time, had suddenly become very quiet.
"I don't care." Piper declared. "I know that he's the one for me, and not even his stupid prat of a girlfriend is going to stop me from going after him."
I winced, not purposely of course. "I don't think I'd be very happy if another girl continued to pursue Drew while we were together."
Piper gave me a defeated sort of look and shrugged her shoulders. "You can't stop love, darling Charlotte."
Alex raised a brow.
Love? Love? What sort of messy triangle was this going to be? And while Ritchie was with Elise, I couldn't help but remember how his eyes lingered on Piper's face when they had ambushed Drew and I in the library.
Later that night, when Piper finally left our room and Claudia returned at Merlin-knew what hour, I sat thinking about what Piper had said. My fingers traced out their names on my covers.
Piper ♥ Ritchie ♥ Elise?
I shook my head.
Piper fancied Ritchie, clearly. Did Ritchie fancy Piper too? If he did, why was he still with Elise?
What were we getting ourselves into? And more importantly. What was Piper getting herself into?
Author's Note: Today is the fourth of September! And my birthday! :) But that's of little importance! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The drama was fun to plot.
I'd like to hear what you think is going to happen! :D Please, don't hesitate to leave a review. They do make my day & today is my birthday! ♥
Chapter 13: Candy Lips that Taste too Sweet...
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Piper and Claudia had not spoken a single word to each other since Piper had admitted that she really did fancy Ritchie.
The tension was unbearable. Especially since Claudia lived in the same room as Alex and I.
"She's gotten even icier than normal." Alex commented to me one morning as we both pulled on our woolen socks and tucked scarves around our exposed necks. "I'm wondering how long this is going to last."
"I don't know." I replied thoughtfully, bending over so I could pull on my shoes. "I don't know what to think, anymore."
"True." Alex sighed. "So many things to worry about, so little time."
She turned to grin at me. Over the last few days, Alex and I had restored our previous relationship. It was as though Claudia and Piper never came into our lives. Except, well. Not really. Piper still sat and talked to us, but Claudia ignored our group all together. Instead, she had planted herself semi-permanently at the Hufflepuff table with Theo.
But, the point was that Alex and I were behaving normally. She was no longer sullen and quiet, giving me strange looks when she thought I wasn't looking. I returned to my studious state, refusing to give up any more of my own study time.
Except, of course, to help out Oliver.
Ugh, that boy. He just got more and more irritating with every week. He'd seek me out for conversation in the hallways, or he'd try to corner me after Potions with a question. It was getting a bit out of hand. He'd ask for my advice, his eyes wide and innocent and full of hope.
Could I have turned that down? Well, frankly, yes. But Alex made me promise to be nice.
"I have a Potions midterm to study for," I told her as we finished bundling up. "I'll be –"
"In the library." She nodded. "As you usually are. I'll get you for lunch, maybe?"
"Maybe." I replied. "If I'm hungry. If not, I might just stay in there until my brain explodes."
"Ha." She rolled her eyes. "You're funny. As if your brain is capable of exploding."
Alex ruffled my hair on her way out. "I'm going to meet with some girls from my Divination class. Hopefully, I'll be dead by Finals time! Cheers." She exited with such enthusiasm, that I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.
Despite the growing tension between Claudia and Piper, things were going well in my life. I had just achieved a well-deserved "O" on my Charms paper, a grudgingly accepted "A" on my Herbology exam and another "O" on my Potions exam.
"Charlotte!" I was halfway down the steps when Oliver came rushing at me like some over-excited and over-grown puppy. "Charlotte!"
Oh, Merlin's beard. Was I ever going to get away from him? I silenced the voice in my head that told me (in a mocking tone, of course) that he really wasn't that bad of a guy.
"Yes?" I tried my best to look busy. It's a bit hard when you're standing on some stairs and incapable of really doing anything because your arms are full of books.
"Are you going to study for the Potions midterm?" He looked hopeful.
"Er," I cleared my throat. "Yes."
What? I couldn't just lie! He'd go to the library and spot me in my corner, studying. It was just a lose-lose situation to begin with.
"Can I go with you?" Before I could even respond, Oliver ran over to one of the desks, hoisted his book-bag over his right shoulder and sprinted back to me. "I really need to do well on this exam! I don't want Snape to have any excuse to fail me…"
What he meant was "I don't want to give Slytherin any chance of winning the Quidditch Cup because I was removed as Captain for my failing grades". But, of course, he would never actually say something like that. Okay, so he would, but you understand what I'm saying, right?
"Uh," I raised one of my brows. "Sure." I mumbled under my breath, "Not that I have a choice…"
He ignored me and opened the Portrait Hole for me. "Things have been restored with Isabella." He told me joyfully. Which would explain the jovial mood… I thought to myself. "I realized that I was being a real twat to her, and apologized. She apologized too, saying that she shouldn't have overreacted the way she did…"
Wait, what? Isabella apologized? This was so out of character that I nearly stopped in my tracks.
"Oh?" I managed. "That's great, I guess. How fortunate for you."
"Very much so." He grinned. "And then I got an "Acceptable" on my Potions exam. I bet it nearly killed Snape to write that on my parchment."
I raised my eyebrow again. "I'm proud of you?" I tried to keep the questioning tone out of my voice, but I couldn't help myself.
"You don't seem to be in very high-spirits, though." Oliver paused a moment and looked at me thoughtfully. "Are things not going well with Drew?"
My heart fluttered a little. "Actually, I haven't seen him in two days. We've both been extremely busy with studying. After all, this is the time for midterms and all."
"That's true." Oliver frowned slightly. "Except, even if I have to study, I'd make an excuse to talk to a girl I liked."
"We have been talking…" I cut in. "Just, not face-to-face. We send owls to each other."
"Sorry," he winced, "don't need to get all defensive, Charlotte. I wasn't implying anything."
I sighed. Conversations with Oliver were always like this. He would say something that rubbed me the wrong way, I would retort defensively, and he would apologize. And…repeat this vicious cycle over ten thousand times.
"I don't mean to be defensive," I told him. "I'm just really tired. I haven't been sleeping much because of midterms and lately, things have been quite strenuous."
"Oh," Oliver nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry about that. Maybe…if you want to talk about it?"
We turned a corner.
"Uh…" Talk about it with Oliver? How would I start this conversation? So, you know that girlfriend of yours? Yeah, she sort of has it out for my friends… Um, no. That would not end well. At all. Oliver would turn into an ogre and tear my head off. Literally. "I think I'm alright. Thank you, though."
He grinned at me. "Any time, Charlotte. That's what friends are for."
I couldn't help but smile at him. Friends, huh? Interesting.
"I've heard the most interesting tidbit of gossip."
I couldn't understand why Isabella had to come and visit Oliver at the library. We had been there for maybe two hours and then she came sauntering through the front door with her bedroom eyes locked on his face.
"Hmm…" I did not look up from my notes. My nose was nearly touching the parchment.
"Apparently," Isabella paused dramatically. I guess she felt the need for theatrics when explaining to me what she knew. I could see her fanning herself dramatically and looking off into the distance. "Claudia and Piper are fighting?"
I remained stoic.
"I don't know how this could be." She sighed, as though she sympathized. "They were such good friends!"
"Are." I cut in, looking up finally. Oliver was ignoring this conversation, his mind elsewhere as he flipped through Advanced Potions diligently. "They are good friends."
Isabella looked amused, her lips curling into a smirk. "Are they? I wasn't aware that good friends ignored each other."
"A silly argument won't kill a strong friendship." I retorted.
She gave me a look as if to say that's what you think.
"Aha!" Oliver interrupted the brief tension with his exclamation. "I knew that Shrinking Solution had a dash of leech juice in it!" He looked proud of himself. "I knew I was right, but then I got the juice confused with sliced leeches…"
I grinned, grateful that it wasn't just Isabella and I.
Isabella gave him a small, pained smile. She looked almost embarrassed of him.
And, for some unknown reason, this bothered me. Why shouldn't he look proud of himself? The very fact that he retained some sort of knowledge from Potions was astounding. Why was she looking at him as though he were an idiot – okay, no, he really was, but this was different. He was an idiot who was trying to improve. That was definitely more than anything she was doing.
"Good for you, Oliver." She patted his arm.
And I was further irked. Did she even realize how much he liked her? Did she even recognize the devotion he held for her? She treated him as though he were a five-year-old child she was obligated to be with. Yes, she had made some, tiny sort of progress when she apologized to him, but it was cancelled out with this action. Why did she have to hold a stink face every time she saw him?
My hands clenched themselves into fists, my teeth grinding against each other. I couldn't understand Isabella at all. This alleged Queen Bee, acting as though she owned everything. She acted as if everyone should be so grateful that they know her. She acted as if Oliver should be groveling at her feet for forgiveness and attention.
I glanced at Oliver, who looked pleased to have been complimented by her.
Merlin! Couldn't he see how evil she was? Couldn't he see the lack-of-spark she held in her eye? A smile that never quite went up to the dark brown eyes? The way her lips curled into a smirk or cruel, sadistic smile? How could he not see the true Isabella lurking underneath the surface?
And then I recalled something he had said to be previous. Something about how Isabella and I had more in common than I thought.
I wanted to barf at such a statement. How could we have anything in common? Was he trying to insult me? Belittle me? Of course not.
Oliver knew nothing. Nothing of me. Nothing of her. Nothing of anything. He was blissfully ignorant.
He was just, frankly, Oliver.
Oliver, who smiled at stupid compliments. Oliver, who was completely controlled by his love of Quidditch. Oliver, who failed Potions. Oliver, who liked Isabella far more than she liked him. Oliver, who knew nothing of loneliness and sadness.
Oliver was blissfully ignorant of it all.
He knew details. Small, seemingly insignificant details of my day and of my life. But he didn't really know.
And this stupid, stupid, stupid girl. She was going to ruin his blissful ignorance. She was going to ruin him.
And this upset me. A lot.
"I think I'm going to head back." I closed up my Potions book. "I'm really tired. Maybe, I'll take a nap or something."
"Oh, okay." Oliver looked saddened by this news. "Maybe we can look over the notes again before the exam?"
I smiled. "Okay."
"I don't see why this concerns you." We were eating in the dining hall and Alex seemed unperturbed by my thoughts. "Oliver lives his own life. As much as I dislike Isabella, you can't go on involving yourself like that…"
Wait, involving myself?
"Wait, what?" I put my fork down.
"Involving yourself in his life." She shrugged. "I mean, I know that you guys are probably friends now but…"
"WHAT?" I exclaimed, confused. "Friends? Involving myself? I just don't like the way she treats him! It's so poor! It's like she's obligated…"
"Do you see what I mean?" Alex turned her attention to Piper. "You're involving yourself just by thinking these things."
"Oh, with my opinions, I'm involving myself?"
"Well," Piper said thoughtfully. Her eyes looked glassy and tired. "You keep saying that you're not really friends with him, but the way you're reacting…it's like you are. And yes, by having these opinions, you're pretty much getting yourself involved."
"How?!"
"Okay, well," she sighed, "if you weren't friends, you wouldn't care about this because it doesn't affect you at all."
"Correct," Alex pointed her fork at me. "If you didn't have friendly thoughts about him, then you wouldn't care about him being used."
They had valid points, but I still didn't see it.
"But…"
"Face the music, Lotty," Alex grinned. "You're friends with Oliver Wood! What's so bad about that? He's a decent guy. A great friend."
Which was great, because you know, I did not set out this term to make new friends. And yet, somehow, I had stumbled upon quite a few.
Crinkling my nose, still somewhat in disagreement with them, I returned to my food.
You win some, you lose some?
Author's Note: So, shorter chapter than usual...but, never late than never? @_@ I apologize, heartily. Really. Schoolwork takes up so much time, it's ridiculous. I hardly have time to call up my family, let alone write up a decent-sized chapter. Never fear, though! Chapters 14-16 are already written up, and they are much longer than the average chapter! :)
I hope you are all doing well. Thank you for still sticking with Charlotte. I can't even convey the gratitude I have for you all. ^_^
The air was crisp. An autumn breeze tousled my hair and ruffled my scarf. The books in my arms felt light as I strolled through the Hogwarts grounds after my Potions midterm. It had gone well, to say the least. And I was satisfied with the exam. After all, I was positive that I had gotten an "Outstanding".
Oliver had left the exam with a smile, too. All through the test, he had chewed through three quills and managed to spill his ink (luckily for him, it spilt over the side of the desk and onto the floor rather than onto his essay) before finishing. He had read and reread his essay at least four times, his nose almost touching the parchment.
I felt a sense of pride, watching Oliver successfully finish on time and smile at the end of the exam. There was no time to ask him how he had done, because he was rushing off towards his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, next.
The lake was beautiful. It was framed perfectly by the weeping willow's drooping branches, absolutely picturesque with the stormy clouds hanging in the otherwise blue sky. I sat at the base of the tree, leaning against it as I stretched out my arms. It felt nice just to sit and relax. Every so often, I would look up. Drew was supposed to be meeting me.
"You look pretty, sitting there." Drew's voice cut through my thoughts and I turned to see him smiling at me.
I felt my heart do a couple flops before I stumbled to my feet.
"No, no. I'll join you." He plopped down on the ground, and inhaled deeply. "I'm glad that the International Magic exam is over." Drew's head rested pleasantly on my shoulder, but it felt strangely heavy to me. "Fotherby's nice and all, but I swear that she provided us no way to study for it. I nearly went mad trying to get in all the important information."
"I'm sorry." My fingers drifted to his blond hairs. They flitted through them, and I was surprised at this bold move. What had processed me to make such an intimate move?
Drew was surprised too, but in a pleasant sort of way. Gently, his own hand lifted up and touched my face. His hands were cold, I suppose because of the chilly air. The Ravenclaw scarf around his throat almost blew into my face.
It was a moment. Literally. A moment. I was almost going to die, I swear. How much more wonderful could this day get?
A lot more, apparently, because hesitantly, tentatively, Drew leaned in and his lips brushed mine. Casually. This caused my heart to beat so rapidly and so quickly that when I opened my eyes (when had I closed them?), I was so sure it hadn't happened. That the kiss (was it a kiss?) was unreal, a part of my imagination.
And then it happened again. My eyelids fluttered shut, his lips pressed gently against mine, my mouth molding against his – when did I learn to do this? My body seemed to take over. He clutched onto me tighter, and I laced my fingers further into his hair.
When we pulled apart, there was a slight flush on his pale cheeks. His glasses were askew and my lips felt swollen. My face was as red as a tomato, and his fingers found mine.
I didn't know what to say. Neither did he, because we just stared at each other like idiots, smiling. He grinned and I supposed that my smile was gentler, because his free hand traced my cheek for reassurance.
"Hungry?" he finally broke the silence with a chuckle after my stomach growled loudly.
"Starved." I chirped, as he helped me up, levitated my books and held my hand all the way back to the Great Hall.
Details were not spared to my friends. Alex's eyes seemed to bulge out of her skull, threatening to pop out while Piper leaned in, eagerly.
"I don't even remember closing my eyes." I found myself saying, my arms flailing about – quite unlike me, I have to say. "And it was just…wonderful." I breathed the last part, the word floating out of my mouth as though on its own cloud.
"Finally." Alex exhaled. "It's about time someone kissed you!" she waggled her eyebrows. "You were in dire need of a good snog."
"It wasn't even a snog." I rolled my eyes. "You crazy woman. It was just a kiss. A gentle, innocent kiss."
"Kisses are far from innocent." Piper giggled. "And you guys held hands!" She cooed and preened and awed and I felt awkward but pleased. "Do you love him, girl?"
What sort of question was this? Love? Ridiculous.
"He's a nice boy." I replied, my lips smiling but my eyes casted downwards. "But that's a huuuuuuge word that I'm not even willing to touch at the moment."
"Good." Piper nodded. "Girls are usually such idiots when it comes to first boyfriends. I'm glad you've got your head on still."
"Ridiculous, love." I told her, shrugging my shoulders easily. "In such a short amount of time?"
But, it was true that my heart ached when I thought of him. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I gleefully replayed that afternoon over and over in my head. I wasn't stupid. I wasn't in love with this boy, even I recognized that.
"I'm not going to touch 'love' with a hundred-meter pole." I replied, shrugging.
We lapsed into silence, wrapped in our own thoughts. I couldn't help but have a small smile on my face.
Claudia then walked in, her brows furrowed and her usually perfect hair a frenzy on her head. In her hand, she clutched a white piece of parchment.
Her mother must have written to her, because she looked flustered and annoyed.
She pushed past Piper towards her bed, ignoring all of us and pulled out a box from underneath the four-poster. The letter fluttered into it menacingly and she shoved the box back under the bed.
For someone who loathed letters from her mother, it was definitely sort of weird that Claudia kept all of them.
Piper took it as her cue to leave. She flashed us an apologetic smile before exiting the room. They had not made up, but Piper was slowly getting over it. She knew that eventually, her friendship with Claudia would be repaired. All that it needed was time.
The door closed and Claudia addressed us.
"Mother wants me to ask you girls about the holidays." Her voice was flat.
"Er, what about them?" Alex inquired, her arms-crossed – a movement now greatly recorded in my brain, labeled as "self-defense."
"She was wondering if you wanted to spend them with my family." A small smile tugged at Claudia's lips. "And for once, I sort of agree. Of course, for wholly different reasons. It'd be nice to spend the holidays with people I actually enjoy speaking to." Her sarcastic tone of voice shifted to a softer, more genuine one.
And at that moment, I swore I saw a sparkle in her eye. A brief and fleeting glint that meant somewhere inside Claudia, there really was a soul. Really was a person underneath the icy exterior.
"Can't." Alex rejected the proposal quickly. Her shoulders shrugged. "I'm Muggle-born, so it's really important that I go home this year."
It was a terrible excuse. Everyone, even Claudia, knew that Alex constantly stayed at Hogwarts during the holidays.
Claudia shrugged nonchalantly. She was expecting it, I supposed, but her eyes still focused on me. "And you, Charlotte?"
"Um," I swallowed. "I dunno, yet. I'll have to ask my mum."
"That's fine." She smiled genuinely, and turned back to her bed. "Make sure to let me know by the end of the week, though. Mother wants to know ahead of time to make the proper arrangements."
Alex was glaring at me.
I gave her a smile. That's all I could do in that situation, anyway. Besides, it didn't matter how annoyed Alex was at the moment. I was still floating on a cloud from earlier.
Drew had kissed me. He had kissed me. Me!
"I think I did extremely well on the Potions midterm." Oliver was lounging in the library, watching me through lidded eyes. "All thanks to you, of course."
"Uh huh." I replied, scratching my nose absent-mindedly with the point of my quill.
"Uh oh," Oliver leaned forward. "You've got a bit of ink on your nose."
Ever so gently, he leaned close to my face and gently grazed my nose with the end of his forefinger. My face flamed a little as our eyes locked.
"Got it." He breathed, and then looked away, leaning back again and pretending to look nonchalant about the entire thing.
"Thanks." I replied shakily, my focus on Herbology gone.
"So…" Oliver coughed.
"Yes?" I said a little too quickly and maybe a tad bit too alarmed.
"What are your plans for the holidays?" Innocent enough question. Alright, I will attempt to answer it.
"Maybe going home to see my parents," I told him, "but probably not. Claudia's invited me to spend Christmas with her and her family."
"Oh," Oliver nodded thoughtfully. "I live ten minutes from her."
"Interesting…" I replied. "Maybe we'll bump into each other."
He shrugged. "Maybe! Her family doesn't live in town, though. She lives more on the outskirts, in the hills."
"I don't think I've ever heard anyone else talk about where Claudia lives. Do you know what her family is like?"
"Dunno." Oliver crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. "My mum said that they're odd people. She says that her father's never around, and that he's weird to begin with. But, she says that especially Missus Gray is a bit off. Says that Missus Gray has the strangest air about her, sort of conceited I suppose. I've never met them, me-self, but…"
"Yeah," I cut in. "It'll be refreshing, spending the holidays somewhere new. I suppose my mum will be pressuring me to go. She's always telling me to go out there and network…"
"Networking seems essential for the future, eh?" He nodded in agreement. "Going to Diagon Alley to network, too. I don't know when, but I'm definitely going to the Quidditch shop when the Arrows are there."
"The Arrows?" I was confused.
"The Quidditch team…?" Oliver exclaimed, somewhat surprised.
Oliver never got to elaborate on what he meant, because at that moment, I saw Claudia scurry into the library suspiciously.
And when I mean suspiciously, I mean really, suspiciously. She had her cloak pulled over her head and almost sprinted into the library, causing Madam Pince to stick her head out of her office and holler: "No running in the library!"
I saw her go directly towards the back, near the Restricted section. She stopped short of the Restricted section's locked door and scan the titles near the end. I knew, from my own lurking, that that particular section held records of former Hogwarts students. Not complete records, mind you, but records about particular clubs and teams and the like.
She pulled out a thick and dusty volume, blew on the dust (how stereotypical, I thought) and lurked over to one of the more hidden corner desks.
"Charlotte?" Oliver waved in my face. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Uh huh." I replied, standing up, blatantly ignoring my Herbology studying and my friend and walked over to loom over Claudia's desk.
"What are you doing?" I inquired.
Claudia had been flipping through a few pages, but slammed the volume shut when she heard my voice.
"Reading." She said, nonchalantly and without feeling. Her face remained impassive.
"That much is clear," I replied dryly. "But what are you reading?"
Her face changed only slightly. There was a sudden flash in her eye; something along the lines of defiance lined itself on her features.
"Old records?" I had tilted my face sideways, trying to read the slanted and faded writing on the spine of the volume.
Claudia moved it out of my line of sight. "Yes." The only give-away to anything was the slight pinking of her cheeks. "I was curious…"
"Curious about what?"
"I've said too much already." She said coldly, shrugging her shoulders.
Too much about what? I raised a brow in silent query.
"It's not something you need to worry about." She gave me a smile that did not go to her eyes, stood up and placed the volume back on one of the shelves. "Just a slight bit of innocent curiosity of the past is all."
"Okay." I said, suspicious but letting it go.
"I'll see you in the room. I've got to get back to studying."
She sauntered out of the library, her shining brown curls bouncing and her arms swinging.
Returning to the desk I shared with Oliver, I sat back down in my seat, confused. No, it didn't make any sense why Claudia would have any reason to be going through the records of former students.
"What was that about?" Oliver asked, tapping his fingers against the desk, his eyes wide with curiosity and his lips pulled into a smile.
"Wait." I was stupid for going back to the desk. What was she looking at? Getting up again, I went over to where Claudia had placed the book back on the shelf. "What the Nimueh was she looking at?"
Oliver's eyes scanned the book and I opened it gingerly. "It smells old."
"That's because it is old, Captain Obvious." My sarcasm was not lost on Oliver, who merely shrugged and continued watching as I flipped through it. "I don't understand why she'd be curious of this old volume."
"Look, names." Oliver touched a page with his pointer finger, trailing it down until we saw a familiar surname. "Perez? Isabella's last name is Perez."
"Is it her father? It must be…"
"No," Oliver's lips pursed in concentration. "It's a…Anita Perez."
"Female?" I was confused.
"Could be no relation to Isabella whatsoever." Oliver countered. "Perez is an awfully common name, isn't it?"
"Well, it's not English…" I said absent-mindedly. "It's plainly Spanish, and the name Anita is also Spanish…" I found myself tracing my finger down the page, too.
"Are you sure there isn't anyone else with the surname Perez?"
"Nope." I said finally. "Right under 'Perez' is 'Prancer' and under that is 'Quinn.'"
"Where?" Oliver's eyes followed my finger until that particular list ended at 'Scarlett Quinn.'
"Did Isabella's mother go here?" I asked him.
"I think she did," Oliver replied. "I remember once in Charms, when Flitwick was charmed to meet the daughter of one of his former Charms Club students."
Hearing about Charms Club, I flipped through the panel again until I found the page for Charms Club. "Well," I looked at Oliver. "President of Charms Club, Class of '68, Miss Anita Perez, Seventh Year."
Curiouser and curiouser.
My eyes flicked to the names at the bottom of the large club picture. Besides the grinning girl in the front, the apparent Anita Perez, was a small, impish looking child with a sulky look on her face. Caroline Jenkins, First Year.
Mum?
My mum had been in Charms Club. It was hard to fathom that at some point in her life, my mother had been young, short, impish looking with slightly pointed ears and a perpetual frown on her face.
"Look!" Oliver was excitedly jabbing his finger at the page. "That's me dad!"
Indeed, on the other side of my mother, was a tall, lanky boy with what appeared to be scraggly long hair and a charming smile. The caption proclaimed his name to be Calum Wood, Fourth Year.
He looked proud, and although his hair was mussed, he still looked handsome in the photo.
"I had no idea he was in Charms Club." Oliver told me, his voice in awe. "Appears that he's a fourth year." He grinned so wide that I thought his lips were going to split. "I had no idea that he was in an academic club," Oliver continued. "Mum always gave me the impression that he was sort of dim-witted. Just an athlete. This is wild!"
"I didn't know that Hogwarts kept such records of their clubs." I told him. "What else is in here?"
Oliver flipped to the index. "Some other clubs. Whoa, I didn't know that we used to have a Quidditch Club?!"
Of course. I wasn't surprised that out of all the new discoveries, this was the most prominent one for Oliver.
"This doesn't help us realize why Claudia was looking through it." I replied, turning it all the way to the index again. "What's her last name again? Gray?" I traced my fingers through E, F, and G. I did not find the surname Gray anywhere.
"Odd." Oliver said.
"Extremely." I agreed.
"Is it her mother's name?"
"It's not in there at all."
"And you're positive that her parents both went here?" Oliver's brows were furrowed. "And that you looked at all of the names?"
"I'm not stupid!" I retorted. "I know my alphabet, and Gray is definitely not."
Oliver pulled the book away from me and flipped through it himself. It peeved me slightly to have him doubting me.
"There!" He exclaimed, shoving his finger into the book and then waving it around in my face. "Right there! Right there! Right there!"
"Where?" I hated doubting myself, but I did. "Where?"
"There!" Oliver pointed again.
Indeed, there was a small, scrawled name that read Noah Gray.
Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocks! How could I have missed that?
"Wait," I took the book from his hands, my eyes scanning over the names. "This is not the student section…"
We stared at it in awe for a second.
Noah Gray, and then under it, Charms Club Supervisor, Professor of Astronomy 1965-.
"Claudia's father was a Hogwarts Professor?!"
My mind was swirling. I mean, yes, I had been in the library for perhaps too long, but that's not why my head hurt. I was trying to comprehend the fact that Claudia's father used to be a Professor of Astronomy at Hogwarts. And the fact that I hadn't known this.
Well, I wasn't amazingly great friends with the girl, but I thought I knew a fair amount about her. Apparently, Alex and Piper didn't know either, because when I shared that bit of information with them, their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
"That's strange," Piper said quietly. "She had always told me that her father was in the export/import business."
"Why is it such a big deal, though?" I asked. "I mean, I was surprised, too. It's not a huge deal that a parent of a student was a former professor, right? It happens loads of times."
"I think that the fact that her father was a professor isn't the main cause of our astonishment," Alex said smartly. "I think it's the fact that she hasn't told anyone."
"I don't know why she'd lie." I told them. "The import/export business? How is that even remotely close to an Astronomy Professor?"
Piper, ever the dramatic one, raised up her arms. "Maybe there was a scandal?"
"Always jumping to the fantastic," I replied. "I doubt there has ever been a true scandal at Hogwarts."
"True, true." Piper sighed.
I remembered what Oliver's mum had said about Claudia's family. That her father was hardly around, and that his wife was odd.
It did seem a bit odd, the lot of them.
"I don't want to get dramatic," I cut in, "but at this point in our thinking, I'm considering that there might have been a scandal."
"How exhilarating!" Piper said. "A real scandal at Hogwarts? That'd be rather cool, don't you think?"
"Even though it happened oh-so many years ago?" Alex rolled her eyes.
A scandal's a scandal, though, isn't it?
Author's Note: I have no Finals! Which is why this chapter is finally posted. Good news, though. I'm on Spring Break and I'm ready to post the rest of this story!
How long do you think this story's going to be? At the pace it's moving now, I think it's safe to say that the entire chronicle of Charlotte's 7th Year is to span a good 25-30 chapters. Is that too much? I don't know.
Thanks for sticking with me! And for being patient. I'm pretty sure that I don't deserve any of you guys. If you could take the time and leave a review, too. That'd make me the happiest girl on this earth!
♥
Chapter 15: You're Guaranteed to Run this Town
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Chapter Fifteen: You're Guaranteed to Run this Town
The letter came the next day. I was expecting at least some leeway, but was disappointed. Of course my mother was going to agree to let me spend the holidays with Claudia's family. She was always urging me to make connections and network while I was at school. She'd always claim that I would never know who I'd meet: the next Minister of Magic, or other important (prominent) members of an eventual Ministry.
Personally, there were times where I doubted if I really believed in the Ministry. Last year, I had taken a government class (again, at the urging of my mother) and had learned about the different systems worldwide. America's Ministry, for instance. Well, they didn't truly have a Ministry, but it was interesting. America's Wizarding World was run by the people within it – I had supposed that it was similar here, since the community voted for the Minister of Magic…but it seemed different.
Anyways, the owl landed in front of me at breakfast, looking at me expectantly. I rolled my eyes, reaching deeply into my pocket to pull out two knuts. The owl hooted, took a nip of my pastry and flew off.
"Ew." I deposited the half-eaten pastry into a napkin and rolled my eyes.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse. There was a constant haze of rain that pelted Hogwarts castle. Going to Herbology had turned into an even more horrid chore than usual. Dashing towards the greenhouses, Alex and I held our cloaks up over our heads. Sometimes, if I wasn't lazy, I'd cast a charm to keep us dry. Most of the time, though, we just went without and were thoroughly soaked through.
"You're going to get your fingers bitten off," Alex nonchalantly plucked the scissors from my hand and trimmed the growing cabbage herself. "Just because it's still young, doesn't mean it doesn't have teeth to bite with, you know."
I shrugged. "You know Herbology isn't my cup of tea."
"Which is strange," her lips twitched as she finished trimming off the leaves of our cabbage, "because you're an absolute Potions fanatic."
"Fanatic is kind of a strong word, don't you think?"
"Not strong enough."
Across the greenhouse, I spotted Oliver and a raven-haired girl struggling with pulling their cabbage out of the pot. There were beads of sweat on his brow as he heaved, arms straining against the pot. The girl rolled her eyes, casting him aside before waving her wand; the cabbage lifted out of its home with a pop sound.
"You can handle cutting it, right?" her voice was amused.
Red-eared, Oliver picked up the scissors and began trimming.
"She's missed half of this term," Alex muttered under her breath, raising an eyebrow at the girl, who's face was all cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. "I have nearly all my classes with her, and she only shows up to half of them."
"Isn't she in our house?" I was beginning to forget who was a Gryffindor and who wasn't. Advantages of keeping to yourself, don't you know.
Well, except for I'm blind as a bat and missed the Hufflepuff scarf currently falling off the crook of her arm.
"No," Alex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
"…Just kidding?" I managed. "I didn't see the Hufflepuff scarf!"
"I really wonder if you try to see things, or if you're truly oblivious to it all." Alex replied nonchalantly, after face-palming herself out of my stupidity. "Besides, Alice Wang is the only competition I have!"
"For what?" I stared at her.
Alex made a face and an impatient noise. "For my internship…you know, what I've been telling you about for the past…who knows, couple years?"
"Oh, yeah." I must admit that today was not my brightest day. My observational skills were currently out of order. "That internship. The one in which you want to apply to travel abroad and learn about various plants and their properties?"
"Yes, the very one." Alex gave her eyes another roll, but she smiled all the while. "I saw her asking Sprout for a letter of recommendation, too. I wouldn't be too pleased to be paired with Wood, either." She watched their interactions carefully. "Is there any subject that he's particularly good at?"
Alex didn't mean to sound…well, pretentious. But at that moment, she really did. I had never pinned my best friend as the type of person to sound that way.
"He's great at Charms." I found myself saying stoutly. "How is he at Transfiguration?"
"Oh, yeah," Alex's face brightened (I don't know why). "I forgot he's in that class!" But then her face dropped. "Damn, I forgot that McGonagall wants to have a meeting to discuss how I'm doing in that class."
We spent the rest of the class in silence. Alex trimmed and helped trim some of the other cabbages and I just didn't have much to say, anyway.
I was more preoccupied with the fact that I would be spending the holidays with Claudia's family.
"When I'm Minister of Magic," Drew was saying, his brows knitted together as he tried to complete some Government homework, "I'm going to probably put these miserable legislations out of work."
I looked at him. Rain poured down the windows, thunder crackled outside and there were brief flashes of lightning. The library looked dreary – drearier than I've ever seen it. Many people were inside, hunched over their textbooks, trying to cram extra information into their brains or attempt to finish homework.
The thunder was a bit distracting.
"These legislations seem almost ridiculous." He rolled his eyes. "Do we need ten treaties with the Mountain Trolls of the east?"
"I'm sure there is a valid reason for those treaties," I said reasonably, lifting myself up from the chair so I could stretch. "After all, it would be terrible if they invaded."
"They ought to be put in their proper place," Drew replied. "Who says they've got the technology to even try to invade? Wizards have magic, what do they have?"
His tone was savage, and as I looked down at him from my standing position, his face looked almost menacing.
"Proper place?" I inquired, my tone soft – I didn't want to offend, after all. "I don't know what you mean."
"Really?" Drew looked up at me, pushed his glasses back and leaned against his chair. "Mountain Trolls, Giants, Elves – they think they've got equal status to wizards, but in reality, they don't."
I kept my face neutral.
"They've got limited resources, while we have many. They come to the Ministry with their little treaties and we sign them only because we want to keep up appearances; I don't know why we should bother with it. It's a waste of tax money and honestly, society would be a lot cleaner if we didn't have to put up with their lot."
Their lot? I felt slightly disgusted. My tongue wouldn't move, but I wanted to disagree. My parents, especially my father, had always thought that magic should be equally distributed. It wasn't fair that it was completely under control by wizards and witches – humans. He believed strongly that Elf magic was just as strong, and that if humans hoarded magic selfishly, that it would ultimately corrupt us.
That was what I had been raised to believe – it was something that I felt strongly about.
But, still, Drew looked so sure of himself and when he smiled, my stone heart seemed to disappear. It couldn't hurt to hear him out, right? Right?
"Er," I managed a single sound, cleared my throat and tried again. "How do you feel about Muggle-born witches and wizards?" I asked, faux-curious. "Are they a part of that lot?"
Drew's features twisted themselves into one of amusement. He laughed. "No! No! That's different."
I didn't see the difference.
"Humans, with the superior intellect – it doesn't matter if magic is passed down through blood; we still have the smarter brain. It makes sense for us to dictate their lives."
I didn't think we were superior.
"Oh, okay."
A part of me was ashamed of the answer.
"I'm glad we think similarly on subjects." Drew smiled, reaching out for me. He cupped my face, his lips pushing on mine.
I couldn't enjoy the kiss. Not with those thoughts whirling in my head. I kissed him back, but my heart wasn't into it.
How could I? Would I have supported him if he ran for Ministry? Could I ever support those beliefs? They were radical; and although my father's own beliefs were radical, too, Drew's were radical in the opposite way.
If he believed so fervently in Magic is Might, then, well…which side would he choose when it came down to Muggle-borns and Purebloods?
"I'm going to go back to the Gryffindor Tower." I said to him, my voice coming out in a squeak. I leaned back to him, pressing my lips against his, grazing them in a gentle kiss.
"I'll walk you." Drew began gathering his stuff.
"It's okay." I said again, my voice strangled and forced. "I'll see myself back. You should finish studying."
"Are you sure?" His brows knitted together again, and his glasses drooped.
"I'm sure." I hoisted my book-bag over my shoulder, shooting him a smile before leaving the library.
The look on his face was burned onto my mind. I didn't know how I should feel. Guilt chewed at me as I walked away, the library doors swinging behind me.
I'm happy, right? He's great. We're great. Everything's going to be fine. So...we don't agree on everything. We don't see eye to eye on this politics thing. It's fine, right? Couples disagree all the time… Are we a couple? Why do I feel so guilty? He kissed me! We're together! We're progressing.
I took in a breath.
Everything is alright.
Right?
I bumped into Claudia. Literally.
Our heads collided with each other as though we were crash-test dummies.
Both of us dropped what was in our hands and fell to the floor. Her ink bottle rolled out of her bag, rolling until it collided with the wall with a soft tinkle.
"Sorry!" I exclaimed, struggling up and stretching out my hand to help her.
"Is this your ink bottle?" a girl leaned over and picked up Claudia's bottle. She stood, long, raven-colored hair swinging as she did so. "Are you guys okay? Major traffic accident in the halls." She pulled Claudia up and handed her the bottle.
"You're Alice, right?" I recognized the hair.
Alice smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She showed all her teeth when she smiled. "I believe we have Herbology together?"
Claudia was brushing her knees and picking up the remainder of her fallen objects.
"Sorry, Claudia. I didn't see you." My lips twisted themselves into a smile. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, fine." She murmured. Claudia hoisted her own bag up on her shoulders. I noticed that she clutched a thick volume to her chest. "I'm off." She scurried out of the hall, out into the rain.
That left Alice and I staring at each other in the hallway like idiots.
"I didn't get your name." Alice's voice was pleasant, with a Welsh twinge. She held out her hand to me, waiting to make my acquaintance.
"Charlotte," I stumbled over my own name, suddenly awkward. "Charlotte Murray?"
"You question your own name?" Alice laughed. "Alice Wang. It's nice to meet you. Have we had other classes together?"
"It's one of those awkward things, you know," I laughed. "When you've had the same class with loads of the same people but you've never met."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "Happen to you frequently, then?"
"Yes," I admitted, embarrassed.
She laughed appreciatively and gripped my hand in a friendly way. I always knew I liked Hufflepuffs for a particular reason. Most of them were cheery and friendly.
"Where are you off to?" Alice was tall, I realized. Very tall. She towered over me, her long hair probably taller than I was. She was graceful looking, with a long, elegant neck and almond-shaped eyes; her face was sprinkled with freckles.
"Away from the library," I managed. "Thought I was going to swing by the Gryffindor common room, but I'm not quite sure. What about you?"
"Dunno," Alice shrugged. "I often just wander the halls until I bump into someone I know. Frequently, it's Lindsey Adams."
"Lindsey Adams?" I inquired.
"Oh, yes," she nodded. "She's a fellow Hufflepuff, but she's always causing mischief. You probably have heard her."
"Heard her?" I felt stupid, repeating all these things.
"She's a Sixth Year and American," said Alice brashly. "And a loud one at that. She's always talking over someone else; often with the Weasley twins?"
"Oh!" that sparked a memory in my brain. A short girl, mousy brown hair, mischievous eyes and an accent that stood out from the rest, "I've definitely heard her."
"Yeah," Alice sighed. "I should go find her, though. She's probably trying to sneak into the Slytherin common room again."
"Again?"
"She fancies one of those cold-blooded Slytherins. I dunno why, most of that lot aren't even attractive, but she's set on him." She shrugged again. "I'm going to continue my wanders. I'll see you in Herbology."
Alice was about to walk away when I called after her.
"You're trying out for the Internship in India, aren't you?"
She turned, a brazen smile on her face. "Yes, yes I am."
Returning to the common room, I realized that Alice's friend, Lindsey, was sitting on one of our sofas. Between the twins, she snoozed, missing one of her eyebrows.
"She is definitely not a Gryffindor." I said to them when I sighed into the armchair by the fireplace. Thunder could be heard overhead and the twins chuckled.
"She's a good friend," Fred told me. "And look at her, isn't she cute when she's knocked out?"
I shook my head. "What did you guys do?"
"What haven't we done?" George inquired. "Lindsey tried breaking into the Slytherin common room but her dungbomb failed and ended up burning off one of her eyebrows.
"How does a dungbomb fail?" I immediately regretted asking as soon as the question left my lips.
The twins launched into this insanely long rant about how some dungbombs are not foolproof and that sometimes, they went stale during pranks or randomly exploded at inappropriate times.
"She was covered, covered in dung." Fred shook his head, looking disgusted at the memory. "We managed to clean her up with spells, but all we could really do was lug her into the common room. For the longest time, we just let her stink up the place because we didn't really know what else to do."
I gave him a pointed look. "She looks clean now. Please tell me that you two did not…"
"NO!" Fred roared. "Bollocks, no!"
"We bumped into Claudia," George replied. "It was odd, because she hardly ever talks to us. But, she saw Lindsey lying there and magicked her up the stairs and managed to get her cleaned up. I think it's one of the nicest things she's ever done." His voice practically sang with respect for Claudia. "She didn't ask us any questions, just returned ol' Lindsey to us and went on her merry way."
I blinked. "How long ago was this?"
"Half an hour?" he scratched his chin, thinking hard. "Took Claudia at least fifteen minutes to get Lindsey cleaned up and smelling like her normal self. Of course, the girl didn't wake up at all – I hope she hasn't got a concussion…"
"Afterwards," Fred picked up where his twin left off, "she just levitated her onto the sofa, gave us a nod of recognition and went through the portrait hole."
That was strange. Claudia had been in the common room at least half an hour ago. I had bumped into her in the corridor outside of the library. Where had she been between those times? It took barely ten minutes to walk to Gryffindor Tower from the library, and Claudia had a particularly fast stride, too.
And then there was that book clutched to her chest. I bet she had stolen that from the library, but there wasn't enough evidence to safely assume that without consequences. Besides, how in Morgana's name did she steal a book out of the library without arousing Madam Pince's suspicions or her angry screams? Did Madam Pince even realize that she was missing a book?
Er, I guess I wasn't exploring all the details. Claudia could have, after all, legally checked out the book from Madam Pince; but, it just didn't make sense with her actions. Why would she be so hasty in hiding the title of it? And why would she clutch it so to her chest?
I was lost in my thoughts, but Lindsey was starting to come-to on our sofa.
"Gryffindor common room!" Fred said cheerily. "How's the head, Linds?"
"Feels like I'm going to crack in half." Said the girl honestly, her accent brutally contrasting with that of the twins. "Why are you talking so loudly?"
"She's acting as if she's hung-over." George shook his head. "Linds! Are you alright?"
"I feel normal," the girl replied, trying to stand up but failing. "A little whoozy. What on earth happened?"
"Failed dungbomb." George sighed. "Such a pity when it happens."
"So I was not allowed access into the Slytherin common room?" asked Lindsey, her head hung in disappointment. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" her wail was shocking and I nearly fell off the armchair.
"I forgot to warn you," Fred cringed. "She's loud."
"NOOOOOO. DAVID WILL NEVER BE MINE!"
"Does she have an off switch?" I groaned.
After much explaining, Lindsey was calmed down. Fred also offered to buy her a new book on American History. "Magic on the Frontier!" He explained. "Just pipe down!"
"Sorry, sorry." Lindsey said, hushed.
She was a petite girl, barely coming up to my shoulders.
"Are we even allowed to have non-Gryffindors in the common room?" I inquired, crossing my legs and staring at the twins. "I don't want to be caught up in your mischief."
"Mischief?" George asked, faux-appalled. "Why, Lots, I'm hurt that you'd think that of us."
"Ha, ha, bloody ha," Alex walked into the common room, eyebrow cocked and lips turned upright into a sarcastic sneer. "Mischief might as well be your middle names."
"They're Mary, by the way." Fred winked.
"Your middle name is Mary?"
"Well, not really," George started. "They're technically not, since we both have different middle names…"
"But the name Mary really rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"
"You two are imbeciles, I swear." Alex's sneer was turned into a wide-grin. "Hello Lindsey." She greeted the petite brunette with a smile. "You might want to hide her from your brother, though." Her advice was well-heeded because as soon as the twins bustled their friend up the boys' staircase, Percy Weasley came barreling through the portrait hole, cursing up a storm.
"I didn't know Percy Weasley knew such words." I commented to my friend.
"It's the rain," Alex explained. "Torrential downpour and whatnot. We're all going mad!"
"Is Lindsey often in our common room?"
"Sometimes," my friend took the armchair across from me and cast a quick spell to dry her wet hair. "I think Fred's taken a fancy to her, to be honest."
"Still, he's aiding her in her attempt to break into the Slytherin common room so she can stalk some random Slytherin by the name of David?"
"He's an imbecile." Alex sighed. "He should just tell her that he fancies her, considering she's completely oblivious to it all."
"What do you think of Drew?" there was a brief pause in our conversation, and I reignited it with a quick question. I had suddenly remembered the conversation in the library and the strange feeling I got when he spoke of those topics.
"What do you mean?" her dark blue eyes scanned my face, looking for signs of what sadness or whatever she was looking for.
"Like," I started to explain, "what do you think about his opinions?"
"I don't know many of them." She narrowed her eyes. "Except that he wants to one day become Minister of Magic. He also fancies you. And you fancy him; unless it has changed…"
"Well, no," I started, but stopped. "Hypothetically,"
"Yes?" Alex raised her tone, widening her eyes to look more innocent and trustworthy.
"Hypothetically," I tried again. "Hypothetically, if a couple had differing opinions…do you think it would still be able to work?"
Alex erased the suspicious look that had begun to cross her features. Instead, she pulled her lips into a reassuring smile. "I think so. As long as the couple is able to respect the other's opinions, I think it should be fine. The trouble lies in when the other disrespects the significant other's differing ones and is unable to cope with that."
"Ah," I smiled. I knew Drew was the former.
After all, how could he be Minister of Magic without having some sort of respect for the differing opinions among the people?
We paused our conversation again. I felt reassured; after all, Drew did not seem like the type of person who could forcibly alter a relationship based on the fact that I did not entirely share his views on many of the political policies passed within the Ministry.
The twins managed to smuggle Lindsey out, right under the nose of their brother, Percy. He was frowning in a corner, a book held so close to his face that his nose was touching the page. Without a word, the two Weasley twins hitched up their loud friend and made a mad dash for the portrait hole.
They nearly collided with Piper, who was coming back from class. She stopped in her tracks, nearly fell to the ground and barely held onto the side of the portrait to steady herself.
"What's the rush?" she inquired of them as they ran past her.
"Harboring fugitives, I'm afraid." Alex said, shaking her head with amusement in her tone of voice. "A non-Gryffindor in the common room."
"A Lindsey Adams, apparently." I told her.
"Lindsey Adams?" Piper's eyes widened dramatically. She sat down on the sofa, her book-bag falling to the floor, her books pouring out of it carelessly. "Lindsey Adams. She's this high –" Piper held her hands up to a certain height (not very high). "—and has this strange fascination for American history, with choppy brown bangs and a strange accent?"
"It's not that weird," I replied. "It's just American."
"Same thing," Piper replied with a shrug. "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that Lindsey Adams is key to helping us in our ultimate goal!"
"It's been so long since we've discussed this goal that I've forgotten." Alex yawned, stretching her arms over her head as she stretched against the back of the armchair.
"The plan to pretty much dethrone Isabella!" she lowered her voice, and completed the sentence in hushed tones. "Lindsey Adams is looked after by her supposed Hufflepuff 'older sister' – Alice Wang!"
"What?"
"Alice Wang was one of Lindsey's first friends. She's also quite chummy with that Diggory boy, but that's besides the point! Alice is as close as Hufflepuff has to an Isabella."
"Except for Alice is quite nice and Isabella isn't?" I said, pulling my lips to the right and pouting them slightly.
Alex frowned. "She's my internship rival."
"You can suck up to her for the cause can't you?"
"Isabella hasn't been that bad, lately. The paint balloons and other irritating things have stopped, right?"
"Yeah, stopped for how long?" Piper had a duh-face and rolled her eyes. "When will she begin them again? For the moment, she's obsessed with tormenting some Ravenclaws, but seriously, we can use Alice!"
"I don't want to 'use' anyone." I told her point-blank. "I am not that type of a person."
"You know what I mean…" Piper sighed. "I don't mean use as in use and then dispose of without a second though! I mean like, use her network to network out more and then somehow expose the cruelty of Isabella. If she's exposed, then no one will be able to tolerate her anymore!"
"For some reason, I feel like this is slightly flawed." I replied. "Say we expose her cruelty, then what? How do we know for sure that the school will suddenly stop tolerating her?"
"Because they tolerate her for a reason." Alex sucked in a loud breath. "I hate to admit this, but Piper, I think you have a good thought."
Piper beamed.
"They tolerate her because yes, she's a bitch most of the time, but otherwise, she's quote-unquote 'not that bad of a person'. You should see how nice she can be when she tries to be."
"Ugh." I wanted to be out of this. I didn't care anymore.
I missed my comfortable niche. The niche I had lived in for the past six years.
But a voice inside of my head nagged at me. It nagged at me in a way that I felt myself pulling my lips into a smile at Piper. If it weren't for these girls, I wouldn’t have Drew. I wouldn't have come out of my shell enough to be in anything.
And although I hated to admit it, I had to be honest: seeing Isabella Perez fall would be kind of gratifying.
Author's Note: I suck as a person. I know you're tired of my apologies. I know I'd be if I was a reader. However, life is quite tiring and time-consuming so I hope you do understand and empathize with me. :) Anyways, I feel like this is more of a filler chapter but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. There is more coming! I hope to finish this story, soon. It's my goal!
In the meantime, please, it'd be wonderful if you could take the time to leave a review! Even if it takes me awhile to respond, you can bet that I do read every single one and send thousands of love-vibes in your direction. :) I appreciate everything! ♥
The few weeks had passed uneventfully. It was dreary. But it had been continuously dreary since late November. Alex had stared at me sadly when I levitated my trunk out of the common room. She couldn’t believe that I was going to be spending the holidays with Claudia.
It was too surreal for her. After all, how many times had Alex complained to me about Claudia? Uncountable. It had been her sport.
I was waiting for the train to begin moving. Rain streamed angrily down the glass panes of the window. Claudia sat across from me, soaked, but still perfect. Her brown hair fell gracefully around her face, framing it. Her skin would have been flawless if it weren’t for the single mole on her right cheek. It sat underneath her right eye, a blemish in a sea of creamy white.
“The week passed quickly, didn’t it?” she asked, her clear eyes fixed on me.
“Freakishly quick.” I agreed.
Exams had been taken. Conversations were held. I flitted through those everyday activities as though on auto-pilot. I briefly conversed with Piper about Ritchie, and how she had never felt her heart pound so quickly before. I recalled Claudia sneaking through the library.
I mostly kept to myself these past weeks. It was easier, that way.
To be honest, there was a lot of tension between Alex and I. We had a brief moment of peace that disappeared when I told Claudia that I was spending the holidays with her. Alex looked betrayed, and the more I tried to bring it up, the more she insisted that it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Except, to her, it was.
“What are our plans once we reach King’s Cross?” I inquired. “How far are you from Diagon Alley?”
“Usually, we travel by Floo.” Claudia shrugged her shoulders, not really answering my question. “And usually, the House Elf wants to pick me up, but it ends up being someone else that picks me up...I don’t know about today.” A breath escaped her lips. A slight puff of air that fogged the window. “Mum says she’s going to pick us up, though -- I really hope that doesn’t happen. I’d like to put you off meeting mummy dearest for as long as I can.”
I wanted to ask why, but I felt like that it might have been too personal. I didn’t want to intrude where I wasn’t invited.
“I hope you don’t mind if it’s usually just the two of us,” she turned towards me, a genuine smile on her face. Her tone was worried. “Mum goes off and does her charity rubbish. She thinks she’s a grand person because she helps the ‘less fortunate.’ And Father probably won’t be home until around dinner or maybe after it. He’s frequently out on business.”
“I don’t mind,” I reassured her. “It’s much better than hearing my parents bicker with each other and pry into my life constantly.” I laughed. “It’s ridiculous. My mum is always trying to force me to become something I don’t know if I can become. It’s always, ‘Study hard, Charlotte! Good fortune doesn’t fall from the heavens, you know...’” I rolled my eyes, and leaned heavily against the side of the compartment.
“It’s a wonder you’re not a Ravenclaw,” Claudia mused. “With brains like yours.”
“I always thought I’d be a ‘Claw.” I told her honestly. “But the sorting hat had other ideas. Told me some rubbish about having an inner Gryffindor within me and that I wouldn’t realize until I fully embraced my destiny. What sort of destiny does a girl like me have?”
It took me a second to realize that I had revealed more about my inner thoughts to Claudia than I had ever told Alex. I clammed up, my mouth shutting hastily.
Claudia laughed at me. I felt as though her blue eyes were piercing me. Literally. A chill shot down my spine.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Charlotte,” she said softly. “We all have our destinies. We all have our opinions. It’s about time that you’ve stated yours.”
“What about you?” I ventured bravely. “You keep to yourself an awful lot, too. Shouldn’t you state your own thoughts, too?”
Her eyes misted over. They looked almost dead, but her lips twitched in amusement.
“You want to know what the sorting hat told me?” Claudia leaned closer, her pale face close to mine. “He told me that I’m not what I fear I’ll become. That I’m a Gryffindor because loyalty will help me pull through my troubles.” She pulled back, “I’ve yet to experience what he’s said. And I really doubt that I ever will. I mean, what does a dusty old hat know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “What is all this stuff about destiny? I’m not Harry Potter. I don’t have a destiny.”
Claudia nodded.
“You’re an only child, right?” I picked at the skin surrounding my elbow.
“Yes,” Claudia’s tone was strange. Something didn’t seem right about it. “You are too, correct?”
“It’s weird, sometimes.” I confessed. “When I was younger, I longed for another sibling.”
“Mm,” was all that came from Claudia’s lips.
“Mum put all this pressure on me. She’s already counting galleons I don’t have and plotting how well off she and Dad will be once I’ve established myself within the Ministry.”
“Are you alright with that?” Her voice was gentle. It was prodding, but it was a gentle prodding that didn’t annoy me as much as Oliver’s prodding had.
“What’s not to be liked?” I gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when I’m out of Hogwarts, anyway. I have no other ambitions.”
Claudia let out a laugh. A real laugh. “Me either.”
The rest of the train-ride passed in silence.
The rain had ceased when we reached King’s Cross station. It was just very foggy, and the fact that the scarlet Hogwarts Express kept spewing out steam didn’t help matters, either.
Claudia was silent as she levitated both of our trunks down from the train and flew them to an awaiting trolley. I followed, nearly tripping on the bottom of my pants. They were a tad too long, and looked shabby next to Claudia’s designer skirt.
We pushed out of the passageway between platforms 9 and 10. I turned and saw that Oliver was following. We both waved.
“I hope you two have a pleasant holiday,” Oliver smiled before he pushed his cart away from us and towards the young woman standing near one of the benches. Her hair was a mixture of red and brown, and she looked expectantly at him. Oliver swept her up in his arms, swung her around, kissed her on the cheek and set her down on the ground.
“Who’s that?” I couldn’t help but ask out-loud as I watched the scene. They walked away, arm-in-arm.
“Dunno,” Claudia said, her eyes scanning the busy platform. “What the Bloody Baron...” she mumbled the last bit and I barely had any time to register anything she had said when a particularly strong smell nearly smothered us.
“Darling!” I was nearly knocked out of the way by a graceful arm as it enveloped Claudia in a tight hug. “Darling! I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to find me in this mess of people.” Claudia’s mother looked around at the crowds before her eyes settled on me. “Laudi, why don’t you ever introduce me to your friends?”
Claudia’s mother’s eyes sparkled. They shone. They twinkled. They danced. They were also viciously blue, like two clear lakes. Her lips were a vibrant red, contrasting greatly with her pale skin and blonde, nearly white hair.
I never thought anyone would be able to give the Malfoy’s a run for their money when it came to blondeness...until I met Missus Gray.
“Mum,” Claudia’s tone was tense. All humor was drained from her face. “This is my friend and roommate, Charlotte Murray.” She began pushing her cart away, but not before tossing me a sympathetic and truly apologetic look.
“How very nice to meet you!” Missus Gray exclaimed, her lips widening into a very white and sparkling grin. “I rarely ever get the opportunity to meet ‘Laudi’s friends. She’s so stingy! Always hiding them from me.” She briefly pouted before gathering me up in her arms.
Missus Gray was decked in soft furs. I nearly suffocated in them.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Missus Gray,” I began politely.
“Tish-tosh,” she waved me off with a single toss of her gloved hand. “Don’t call me Missus Gray. It sounds so drab and old. Please, darling, call me Scarlett.”
With that, Scarlett Gray, Claudia’s mum, flounced after her daughter and left me following at a ridiculous pace of walking.
Claudia’s posture was stiff. She appeared annoyed and embarrassed. Several times, I caught her side-ways glance and several times, I fought the urge to laugh.
We bustled into a black car. Our trunks were majicked to fit and I found myself sitting next to Claudia and across from Scarlett Gray.
The car had no driver. It was fairly new and the inside smelt of leather.
“We’ll Floo home from The Pampered Dragon.” Announced my starlet of a hostess. She reapplied her lipstick and leaned back comfortably against the chair. Sitting across from her, I examined her face.
I drew out several of Claudia’s own features in the face of her mother. The way her mouth curved when she was thinking, the curve of her nose and the rise of her cheekbones. Her coloring was definitely her mothers, except for the hair. Claudia was striking, but while her mother was blonde and bold, Claudia’s glossy mahogany mane fell classically against her white face.
“The Leaky Cauldron is much simpler,” Claudia argued. Her tone was not one’s normal tone used during disagreement. It was quieter, almost careless.
“I hate the Leaky Cauldron.” Was the reply that we received from her mother. “It smells and the people are absolutely filthy.” At this, she brushed off invisible dirt from her skirt. “The owner hardly keeps up the fire well enough for us to Floo. The Pampered Dragon is much nicer, and right across from Gringotts. I can pop in and take some Galleons out.”
I had never been to The Pampered Dragon, but I had seen it numerous times. It was a posh hotel located across from Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Whenever the doors opened, an expensive perfume smell would waft out into the street. The name of the hotel was carved in pink cursive, and the lettering was surrounded by a giant white dragon sitting atop a pink cloud.
Pampered Dragon, indeed.
The car stopped and Claudia led me towards the hotel.
“Can you believe her?” she asked me as soon as her mother had disappeared within Gringotts. “The Pampered Dragon? Absurd.”
“I’ve never been here before.” I said honestly.
We walked into the lobby and sat in one of the many comfortable sofas. Many of the clerks and patrons waved and recognized Claudia. She awkwardly returned their salutations with half-hearted response.
“Are you here frequently?”
“Too frequently.” Claudia admitted, the apples of her cheeks flaring up with color.
When Missus Gray returned, she insisted that we all must have a cup of tea before returning to their house.
Claudia protested this, claiming that I was tired and needed rest. I did not appreciate being used as a scapegoat for her troubles, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t feel that it was my place to say anything.
“Come, come, darlings,” Missus Scarlett Gray pushed us into the sitting room and ordered us to sit down with a wave of her wand. She waved down a waiter and charmed him into bringing us a pot of tea and some biscuits.
By the time the waiter had returned, Missus Gray had extracted all by my shoe-size from our conversation. I was a half-blood, and my dad was a Muggle. My mum worked numerous jobs and even I could not answer what exactly she did.
Scarlett Gray’s laugh was like a tinkle of soft bells. She was absolutely fascinated with me and kept putting a gloved hand on my arm.
“Your parents are alright with you spending the holidays with us, I hope.” She held the china teacup to her lips, blew softly and sipped. Claudia and I did the same.
“I hope you’re not too inconvenienced...” I said slowly, my hands starting to tremble as I set down the teacup clumsily.
“Not at all!” She replied cheerily.
“Thanks for coming to meet us at the station. Thank you for tea, too and for allowing me --”
My pleasantries were cut off by a dismissive wave of her hand. It was quite decisive.
“No, no, darling,” the way she threw out darling was strange. “It’s nothing, truly. Usually, the house-elves all want to come retrieve our precious ‘Laudi, but of course, you can’t trust such things with those creatures.” Claudia’s mother turned towards one of the giant mirrors in the sitting room and brushed aside some stray hairs before continuing to speak. “You won’t mind having your own room, will you? I know you girls are all so used to sharing one! My, Hogwarts hasn’t changed a bit!”
“No..whatever is fine...” I managed, awkwardly.
When Scarlett Gray was satiated, she paid the waiter, gave him a wink and bustled us towards the fireplace. “Now, now, this is no time for tardiness. Just follow me, darlings.” She picked up a handful of green dust before tossing it into the flames, her clear, sparkling voice calling out “Gray House!” Before she stepped into the crackling green flames.
Claudia followed, tugging her trunk and monotonously shouting the name of her home before disappearing into the flames.
I took a breath, my grip tightening on my trunk. The porter had brought it as soon as we had started talking. My hand shook as I grabbed a handful of Floo powder before tossing it. I echoed their words and followed after.
The familiar feeling of falling descended upon me as I spiralled. Various fireplaces flew past me as I steadied myself and my trunk and stepped out of the flames into a regal looking dining room. I immediately felt embarrassed and very out of place.
Looking up as I dusted ash off my pants and shoulders, I realized that I was gazing at the family portrait. It was large, and its occupants looked impressive. Missus Gray smiled coyly out of the fame, her gloved hand resting on the shoulder of her husband. She kept beaming and tightening the grip on his shoulder; her lips kept curling back when she smiled, flashing her white teeth at me. She was much younger than the gentleman, who had steel gray hair and laugh-lines around his eyes.
There was something in his face that caught my attention. I had seen that look somewhere before -- it was familiar, but I couldn’t tell you why it triggered my brain to start whizzing. It wasn’t just his face, or the furrow of his strong eyebrows, but his eyes. They were dark, obsidian colored that looked blank, dead.
And Claudia stood on the other side of her father. She did not have a hand on her father’s shoulder, and she did not lean towards her mother. In fact, she looked as she always did -- icily distant from everything. Her face was a strange mix of both parents. Her cool, almost-clear blue eyes had her father’s blank look and when she saw me, she gave them a roll.
In the portrait, Claudia was too striking to be considered beautiful. Her nose was sharp, upturned and proud like her mothers. Her lips curved in the same way; the same shape. Her rising cheekbones made her look angular; she was all sharp, harsh angles.
Her brows were her fathers. When drawn together, she looked thoughtful. Dark colored hair matching that of the gentleman’s, it curled elegantly around her head like a halo. She looked out of place, as though someone had pasted her within an already-existing image.
“I’m sorry about my mother.” Claudia’s voice snapped me out of my daze as she approached me, hands clasped together. “She’s overbearing, I know.” She sounded genuinely sincere. “I’ll show you your room, okay? The house-elves have prepared it ahead of time. They’ve already moved our things.”
I turned to disagree and show her my trunk, but when I only saw the hearth of the fireplace, Claudia gave me a smile.
I wish I could say that I had seen a larger dining room than the one that the Gray’s had, but I would be lying. Compared to my own home, Claudia’s was the total opposite. I was sure that I could fit my entire house into just the dining space.
Rich, brown and gold tapestries lined the stone walls. They outlined brilliantly silver and gold picture frames that housed snoozing portraits of past ancestors.
I could feel heat radiating from the stones underneath my feet -- through my shoes, even! The entire house, though, seemed cold and entirely too large for such a small family.
“You’ve got a wonderful home.” I commented as we past a portrait of sparring relatives.
Claudia stopped, watched the portrait thoughtfully and shrugged. “Oh, thank you,” her tone was embarrassed. “Only Piper’s really seen it, you know. It’s a bit strange to have people around.” She tapped the frame. “Stop it, won’t you?”
The occupants growled, waved fists and continued their fight.
My friend rolled her eyes. “Thomas and Victor Gray. They’re my great-great-great-great-great grandfather and similarly great-Uncle.” She sighed. “They never got along and continue to bicker to this day.”
We filed up a large spiral staircase that wound its way through the middle of the house. “It’s a bit strange to have people around. It’s mainly just me and the House-Elves.” She motioned to the extravagant furniture and hangings that adorned the hallowed out hall. “My mum’s extremely...materialistic.” She said in an apologetic tone, even though I didn’t know what she was trying to apologize for.
I wanted to agree, but was tactful enough to stay silent. The look on her mother’s face, particularly in the portrait, and the way she held herself on a day-to-day basis was not exactly the most attractive. But it was strange, because her mother was beautiful. Absolutely radiant. Her mother glowed with beauty, but something about her was odd.
Exactly as Oliver had described Claudia’s family. Odd.
“My room is just down the hall from yours,” we stopped in front of a large door that was twice my height. “I hope it’s to your taste. If it isn’t, just give a snap and the House-Elves will change it.” Claudia gave me a small, almost shy smile before throwing open the large oak doors. “I’ll see you later, after you’re settled.” She backed out of the room.
I could scarcely breathe when I saw the room. The walls were a mint green, flowered in an old Victorian style. It was accented with white crown-molding and white furniture. The large bed was seemingly twice the size of my four-poster at Hogwarts with sheets made of Egyptian cotton that were a soft cream color. I ran my finger along them and smelt the light scent of jasmine.
And I had my own fireplace. I could Floo my family if I wanted and talk to them. A crackling fire was already merrily eating away at a new log. I turned and saw my own writing desk in the corner; beside it was a giant bureau.
I pulled the bureau open and saw my clothes were already packed away, neatly folded within the dressers and such. My empty trunk was placed at the foot of the bed, and its shabby surface contrasted violently with the elegant furniture.
My shoes came off as I leapt onto the bed, my eyes closing in surprise. The bed was warm and the scent of jasmine became stronger. It was inviting and the scent made me drowsy. It felt like I was slowly sinking into the mattress with every breath I took. I had never seen such luxury in my entire life.
I thought of the small home that I had grown up in. There was a large, if cramped kitchen that always seemed to radiate the most heat. Our living room was adjacent, with a large telly situated against the wall for my father’s viewing-pleasure. Our coffee table was battered and missing a leg; it only managed to stay balanced through the use of a strategically placed dictionary. My father would come home late and flop down on the worn green sofa, throw his feet upon the ancient coffee table and allow his body to sink into the musty fabric.
When I was younger, I would crawl out of my room, dart towards him and join him, situated warmly against the corner of the sofa and the crook of his arm.
My parent’s room was next to the dining room, and seemed barely a fourth the size of my current room.
There was also a shared bathroom, large enough for all three of us to use. The dining room was not even a quarter of Claudia’s, but was still snug; it was always inviting during the winter months. My mum would fuss over the mismatched chairs and the cold weather, complaining of aches and worrying that I would catch sick. She’d make me some warm milk and honey and hit the overhead light with her wand whenever it flickered.
My room in the attic was nothing compared to this room. It was old, filled with useless knick-knacks that had collected over time. My furniture was mismatched and missing drawers and knobs and the like. My bed creaked. I had laid awake so many summer nights, listening to chirping crickets and watching as stars danced across the ink black sky.
The moon was often my only companion, and I had always longed for my Grandmother’s old cottage along the sea.
I must have fallen asleep because the soft rap of Claudia outside my door caused me to sit up in bed, blearily rub my eyes and turn towards the door.
“It’s time for dinner, Charlotte,” Claudia let herself in. “You were gone for awhile, so I assumed that you fell asleep.” She smiled. “I see that I was right.” Claudia looked like a princess. She had changed into a white blouse with a bright yellow skirt; her long, brown hair fell in smooth ringlets around her pale face. For once, her bright blue eyes focused on me rather than through me. “Is the room all to your taste?”
“More!” I said awkwardly, worried that I sounded too excited. I pulled away from the bed and almost fell off of it. Claudia came closer to me and clutched my arm. “It’s very comfortable! I really do thank you.”
“Good.” She said shyly, “I’m glad you came, Charlotte.” Her voice was so sincere that I couldn’t help but believe it. “I didn’t know if I could last this entire holiday without murdering something. My mum drives me insane. But, now you know my secret -- I’m ridiculously rich. I’ve been exposed.”
“It isn’t that terrible of a secret,” I reassured her. “My home can’t be but a third of the size of yours.”
Claudia had that look on her face, again. The look that said she wished to say what was on her mind, but as usual, she refrained. The openness we briefly shared on the train was gone. Replaced with stiff formality between guest and hostess. “Dinner’s supposed to be a formal affair, but don’t worry too much. Just wear whatever you think is nicest and it ought to be good enough.”
At these words, I didn’t know whether to be relieved or bothered.
“My father will be home soon.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. She didn’t seem enthused about this. To be honest, Claudia didn’t seem enthused about being home at all. “I wish I could stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Charlotte.” She admitted, before catching herself, and swallowing the lump in her throat. She coughed. “Let’s help you get ready, then.”
Claudia had been right. Dinner was more than formal, and I had dressed the best I could. My friend had deemed all my clothes too casual and went to her own closet to find something. Of course, I was much bigger than Claudia, and her dress wouldn’t fit...but with some quick altering by the House-Elf, it fit me perfectly.
The dress was white, with a red sash that matched my hair.
The family sat at a ridiculously long table. Mister Gray was an impressive man. He was tall, muscular with gray hair and a tan complexion. I supposed that when he was young, Mister Gray would have been considered very handsome. He wore spectacles, now, and had a very studied air about him. He sat at the head of the table, and when he found out that my passion was potions, he inquired deeply into my knowledge of a few concoctions.
Claudia remained silent the entire meal. Her place was to the left of her father and across from her mother. She did not even answer when her father addressed her lovingly and asked her what she wanted for Christmas.
However cold Claudia seemed to be, I noticed that all her mannerisms were from her father. They both spoke the same way, direct but not direct at the same time. They both curled their lips when they wanted to laugh, but knew that they shouldn’t. Mister Gray sat with his right hand on top of the table, and the left one on top of that hand. Claudia sat the same way, but with her face turned away from her family. It was true that she had her mother’s light blue eyes, but while her mother’s eyes danced when she spoke, Claudia’s eyes froze over like a pond during winter.
Mister Gray’s eyes were not obsidian, as I had thought from the portrait, but a deep chocolate brown. And like his daughter’s, they held no hidden emotion. I avoided his eyes when I spoke. They frightened me, even though they were shielded by rounded glasses.
Claudia’s family was more than peculiar. I couldn’t figure them out. Scarlett Gray prattled on and on as though everything were normal and fine, and Mister Gray let her. Claudia stubbornly and openly shunned them, showing her mother her disapproval with a curl of her upper lip.
I was caught awkwardly in-between all of this, especially since I was sitting next to Claudia and close to the tension; when dinner was finished, Claudia nearly sprinted back up the stairs.
“Good night, Charlotte,” Scarlett Gray said to me, maybe five minutes later after an awkward pause in the conversation, her eyes were fixed on my face. She twitched her lips into a smile. “Sleep well, darling.”
As soon as I left the dining room, I heard the smashing of plates and someone snarl. I tried not to think about it as I found my way up the staircase and down the long hallway.
The closer I got to my room, the more clearly I heard an old gramophone cranking out music and a loud voice singing along to the words.
Claudia’s door was slightly ajar, and I heard her voice, garbled with emotion, joining in with the singer’s:
“Mais le ciel de Paris n’est pas longtemps cruel...Hmmm...Hmm...Pour se fair pardonner, il offre un arc en ciel...”*
*Taken from Juliette Gréco's Sous le ciel de Paris that was featured in Sony Picture Classic's An Education. No copyright infringement was intended.
{Roughly, the translation is: But the sky of Paris is not long cruel...Hmmm...Hmmm...and to apologize, it offers a rainbow.}
Author's Note: I dedicate this chapter to Annie (ellerina) & everyone (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!) who listened to me complain and complain about writing this paricular chapter. Ugh. Couldn't have done it without you guys!
Anyways, I'm dreadfully sorry for the delay. Seriously. What can I say? Real life sucks...but hey, AT LEAST I'VE UPDATED! And I've come with good news. I'm participating in JulNoWriMo! This means that my goal is to completely finish this story by the end of July! It also means you'll probably be bombarded with updates for this story!
This chapter might seem filler, but there are many important bits that I've scattered throughout. :D I just want to say that I'm forever grateful for the people who read and review! I read every review and try to respond to as many as possible. I think I've caught up. :)
You guys rock. Thanks for the support!
♥
Chapter 17: Secrets That I’ll Probably Repeat...
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Chapter Seventeen: Secrets That I’ll Probably Repeat...
Author's Note: It has come to my attention the ridiculously large spacing time between posted chapters may be causing some confusion among you guys. I'm really sorry. :/ My solution is a quick, summarizing recap of what has happened so far!
Recap: Charlotte has actually become friends with Oliver! Who knew! Isabella is her typical, mysterious~ self. Claudia is lurking in the library, looking at an old volume of past Hogwarts clubs. Charlotte and Oliver find their parents in the volume; she is also having trouble deciding whether or not she wants to spend the holidays with Claudia but eventually decides that she will. Alex is struggling with Charlotte's decision to spend more time with Claudia, while Piper and Claudia have semi-made up. So, now Charlotte is at Claudia's house and that's where this chapter starts. :D
I never got the chance to ask Claudia about the song. Three days into vacation and I heard her sing along to a new record every night. The gramophone blasted out Celestina Warbeck’s greatest Christmas hits and filled the hallway with a feeling of holiday cheer.
Despite the house being decorated from floor to ceiling with Christmas trimmings, Claudia’s record was the only one that made it feel legitimate. The decorations alone felt too stiff. Too posed and polished.
Claudia’s music was the only thing breathing life into the near-empty house.
Usually, Christmas at Hogwarts was smelt before decorations were seen. I closed my eyes, imagining the ridiculously large evergreen tree that towered beautifully in the Great Hall and the eleven other evergreens that were scattered around other parts of the castle. After smelling the refreshing scent of the trees, one would awake the next morning to find Hogwarts completely decorated for the holidays.
I awoke one morning to find the hallway walls frosted with silver frost, lining the white moulding with crimson ribbons made of velvet.
The grounds were completely white, since the rain had decided to turn into a blustering snowstorm the night before.
My mum had decided to Floo me, and I fell out of bed, surprised to be awakened by her familiar tone of voice.
“You’re still in bed?” It startled me. Coincidentally, I was having a dream about my mother. In my dream, her enlarged head loomed menacingly over me, looking suspiciously like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland.
“Ahh,” I hit the ground with an ‘oomph’ and rubbed my sore knee.
“Charlotte Murray, it’s eight-thirty in the morning and you’re still lying around? Don’t you have plans? Something to do?”
“Hi to you too, mum,” I managed before sitting up awkwardly, my knees drawn towards my chest. “Did you have to startle me awake?”
“Startle you?” she inquired with a raise of her brow. “Your father and I have been up since seven! The things that must be done.” She tutted.
At this, my father pushed my mother aside and replaced her head with his own. He grinned at me and gave me a wave.
“Hi dad.” I grinned back and crawled closer to the fireplace. “Managing mum’s chaos?”
“I always manage her chaos.” He rolled his eyes. “I miss you, duckie. When are you coming home?”
“Ah, miss you too,” I frowned exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be home for Christmas this year.”
“Probably for the best,” Dad nodded. “Mum’s having Gran over and you know how if Gran comes, then half of your aunts and uncles come, too?”
My Gran was very old and very rich and I had half a dozen aunts and uncles (my mum’s siblings) who were always playing into her good-hand in order to receive their “rightful” inheritances.
“And with them, their children. Our house will be rubbing shoulders with each other. How uncomfortable.”
“We should just house them here,” I told him honestly. “Claudia’s house is enormous.”
“I’d believe it, too,” he sighed. And then he was pushed aside by her mother.
“OF COURSE!” her shrill voice said, her eyes enlarged dramatically by the green flames. “Do you know who her father is?” My mum waved her arms about and looked very much so like a clucking chicken. “One of the most successful businessmen in Diagon Alley! So strange though. He was one of my teachers at Hogwarts. He must be pretty old now...”
“Wait, what?” I feigned surprise, even though this was one fact I had already sort of pieced together in my mind.
“What?” My mum repeated, looking at me. “Oh, yeah. Before he was a successful businessman, he was a successful professor at Hogwarts! Astronomy, I believe..?”
“Dunno,” I heard Dad say. “I went to a regular school, for non-magical people, remember?”
I snickered. Dad was always reminding mum that they were brought up in two very distinctive and different worlds.
“The transition is so incredibly random,” mum continued as though my father hadn’t spoken. “From professor to businessman...I guess he got tired of making small money and wanted to move up int he world, eh? Just shows you, Charlotte; if you want to be successful, you’re going to have to work hard!”
“Yes, mum.” I bowed my head.
My parents managed to squeeze both of their heads into the fireplace. My dad looked at me fondly, his grin wide. My mum just looked tearfully at me.
“Look how fast she’s grown,” she murmured to him, thinking that I couldn’t hear. “Making connections and going out into the world. With her networking, she’ll be successful in no time.”
“There, there,” my dad said. “Duckie’ll be successful at whatever she decides to do.” He winked.
“I’ll let you go, now,” mum sighed. “Have a good Christmas, Charlotte. I hope you like your presents.”
“Bye mum,” I waved, my lips curling downwards as I felt my heart sink a little. “Bye, dad.”
After this, I was allowed maybe three minutes to collect my thoughts before there was a soft rap on my door before it opened.
“You’re awake.” Claudia smiled at me, already dressed and ready.
I watched her face, taking in her features before I sorted out the information my mother had given me. She had no mentioned a scandal, but found it strange that someone had gone from being an Astronomy Professor to a businessman.
Should I ask her? I bit my lip, thinking.
“Are you alright?” Claudia interrupted my thoughts. “You look rather thoughtful.”
Would she get defensive when I asked her? No. I shook my head. Claudia wouldn’t have gotten defensive, but she might have clammed up -- which was probably the worst out of the two scenarios.
“Just...thinking.” I smiled at her. “My parents just Floo’d me, so I was missing them for a bit.”
She ducked her head, nodding down at the floor.
“You’re up early.” I noted. “And dressed, too.”
“I hope you don’t mind. I feel perfectly awful...” Her sentence was jumbled. “But I’m headed into town with my father, today.” Claudia paused. “Well, he already left, but I’m meeting him there.”
I didn’t have a place to ask ‘why,’ but she looked apologetically at me.
“Is it wicked of me to leave you all by yourself in this big house?” She bit her own lip, looking at me guiltily. “I have some business. I’ll be back as soon as possible! No less than three hours.” She held up three fingers.
“I’ll be fine.” I smiled.
“Feel free to explore,” Claudia gave me a small smile and wrapped the scarf tight around her neck. “If you’re hungry, just ask the House-Elves to bring you something...anything. All you’ve got to do is snap.” She bundled up her coat. “I’ll see you, later.”
“Bye,” I watched her close the door and when her footsteps faded away, I sprawled on the floor in a spread-eagle position with my eyes closed.
Let me tell you something about empty houses. Empty manors. They are really...really...scary. There was literally no one but me and the House-Elves in Claudia’s house.
I wandered around for awhile and then I got scared and went back to my room.
But I did manage to find their library. It was fairly dusty, probably the only dusty spot in the entire house. Missus Gray did not seem like the type of woman who allowed dust to step foot in her house; but supposedly, the library was an exception. Thousands of books lined ancient wooden shelves and I stopped to browse the titles.
Bitten Under a Full Moon was flipped on its back, a random page dog-eared and was the only book out of place. I picked it up, leafed through it and scowled at the barely-there plot and awkward relationship between the supposed werewolf and a young, fragile, if not “flawed” (she was clumsy) main protagonist who seemed emotionless. The page that was dog-eared contained a very long declaration of sappy love from the emotionless protagonist to her werewolf boyfriend.
Maybe I was reading too much into the story, but I set the book back down and sat in the dusty armchair. It was when I sat down that i noticed something else out of place. A black, leather-bound volume was lying half-opened on the floor. Unlike the Werewolf-romance novel, it looked freshly opened and there was no dust on it.
I lifted myself up from the chair and walked towards it, curiosity the only driving force of my actions. The album was full of wedding photos. They were dated, but it was clear that they were the wedding photos of Claudia’s parents.
Scarlett beamed and waved like a foolish idiot, looking the part of the enchanted and love-struck bride she wished to be. Mister Gray, on the other hand, looked stiff in his suit, and barely smiled for the photos. His face reminded me of Claudia’s -- cold and aloof, even on his wedding day.
There were many pages full of just Scarlett. Her pale cheeks flushed with delight and her eyes sparkling out of love for her new husband. Even in these photos, it was obvious that her husband was much older than his new bride; even at his wedding, Mister Gray was already showing silver hairs.
I wondered how old he truly was.
Turning another page, I saw a clipping out of The Daily Prophet announcing their engagement and marriage:
Mister Duke and Adriana Quinn proudly announce the joining of their daughter, Scarlett with a Mister Noah Gray
There was more, but the names caught my attention. My eyes nearly exploded out of my sockets as my finger ran over the names. Scarlett Quinn and Noah Gray. I remembered the names from the volume in the library at Hogwarts. Scarlett’s name had been listed underneath Prancer, which was the name right under Anita Perez’s.
And Noah Gray was definitely there. He was the Charms Club supervisor and Professor of Astronomy.
Confused, I stared at the announcement again. There was more text underneath it, detailing the engagement and where the wedding would be held, but there was no information about where or how they had met.
A former Hogwarts student and a professor? It was a strange union, that was sure, but since they got married in -- I scanned the date on the article -- ‘74...it would mean that they married six years after Scarlett had finished Hogwarts.
I flipped backwards and reached the beginning of the album. In spidery, thin, frail yet beautiful handwriting, Scarlett had inscribed a few notes from an interview she had with the Prophet:
Noah was the dearest professor anyone could ever have. He was handsome, even while I was at Hogwarts. He was very popular, you know, among the female students.. However, the relationship was strictly professor and student. It was very professional because Noah is such a professional and respectable person. Actually, I half-forgot Noah when I left Hogwarts! I was going with another boy; he even proposed to me! But then three years after Hogwarts, I spotted Noah at the apothecary and I just couldn’t let the chance go.
The way that she carelessly used his name, even when describing him as her professor, seemed not only rude, but made it seem like she dismissed his ranking and respectability as a professional.
On the plus side, I believed her. Mister Gray would not have compromised his status for anything. It didn’t explain, however, why he left his post as professor of Astronomy.
I continued reading. The handwriting ended, and another old article was pasted underneath where the writing cut off:
Son of entrepreneurs, Noah Gray went against his family’s wishes and began a career as a Hogwarts Professor. However, as he was the lone heir to his father’s fortune, Noah was forced to give up his teaching career and return to help run the family estate since his father took ill.
There it was. In size-twelve, standardized font, sat the answer to my question. Noah had to give up his dream in order to fulfill the dreams of a dying father. Talk about unfortunate. I bet Scarlett was all for it. I bet she thought it better than being married to a mere professor.
I continued on in the album. Wedding photos ended and photos of a very pregnant Scarlett emerged. She looked a little annoyed to be so round, and kept shaking her fist and rolling her eyes at the camera.
It was incredible. That bump would one day be Claudia. I blinked and turned the page.
Ten, maybe twenty more photos of just Scarlett and finally, at the end, a tiny, insignificant photo of a baby. Claudia didn’t struggle. She wasn’t even crying. She stared out of that photo and did nothing. She opened and closed her hands, wiggled her toes. She blinked a few times and just stared.
The last photo in the album was of a beaming Noah holding his baby daughter while Scarlett was looking into a small hand-mirror.
My legs had lost blood from me squatting there, so when I stood and stretched, I cringed in pain. A lot of time had definitely passed, considering the album was rather thick and there were lots of small articles and pictures that I had read.
I closed the photo album and moved to put it on the shelf. As I did, my foot collided painfully with one of the wooden panels that lined the bottom of the shelves. It loosened the panel. Blinking, I put the album on one of the shelves and knelt down, cringing as I did because my toes were getting that painful tingling feeling that I didn’t enjoy. A small box was at the bottom.
Dust was thick on the top of the box and as I took it out, I sneezed. I pushed the lid off of it and looked curiously at the tokens within the box. A small faded photograph, a golden ring and a lock of brown hair.
Lifting up the photograph to get a better view of it in the light, I immediately recognized Noah Gray. He had his arms around the woman’s waist, her curved face decidedly opposite of Scarlett’s. He looked happy. Truly happy. And so did she. She smiled and waved and he beamed and they kissed and looked lovely. A ring was on her ring-finger and as she waved, it glinted brightly in the sun.
I lifted up the ring and it felt heavy in my hand. I set it down and moved to the lock of hair. How strange.
Without thinking too much of it, I put the photograph back into the box and shoved it back into its hiding place.
Everyone has bones in their closets. I shouldn’t be rooting through other people’s stuff. I nodded and majicked the panel back before I left the library.
Whatever Claudia was trying to find out, she had clearly been in the library. But leaving the album out was sloppy. I supposed her reasoning was that no one ever stepped foot in it, anyway.
The hallways echoed with every footstep. Every breath I took was audible. Wooden panels squeaked from the harsh wind outside. A mouse could have scurried through the dining room on the total opposite of the house and I would have been able to hear it.
Which is why when I returned to my room, shut the door behind me, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the doorbell ring.
The eerie quiet that was only disturbed by small, insignificant noises, and the house suddenly came alive with the loud, startling noise of the bell.
I heard the House-Elf answer the door hesitantly, and I was down the steps before anything else happened. The person at the door must have heard my steps, because he pushed past the elf and stepped into the foyer.
“Claudia, I knew you’d be --” He stopped when he turned and saw me standing there instead of my friend. “Well,” he looked familiar as he pulled his lips into a crooked smile. “You’re not Claudia, but it’s very nice to meet you.”
Unconsciously, I felt an eyebrow shift upwards in a quizzical glance.
The elf teetered and its wide eyes widened even more. “I have just told Mister James that Miss Gray is not available.”
“Barrett James.” His voice boomed, as he took two steps towards me and swept my hand into his own.
I pulled away before he could do something stupid like kissing it. I knew of his reputation. I knew of what he had done to Claudia.
He took another step forwards, and I retreated back towards the staircase.
“Claudia will be home in a little while.” I told him flatly, my composure dropping rapidly. I wanted to appear cool, just as collected as Claudia, but failed. His manners were strange and something was off about him.
But, to my surprise, he was very good looking. His jet-black hair had a casual unkempt look that probably took hours to prepare, and a crooked smile that was more charming than alarming.
“I mean, she’s been gone for a good two and a half hours...so she’ll be back soon.” I blabbered, my hands now held out in front of me as he came closer and closer.
“Oh,” he suddenly looked very uninterested in my mention of Claudia and stopped at the first step. “You’re a Hogwarts student, yeah?”
I nodded.
“Seventh year?”
I nodded again.
“I left Hogwarts last year.” If he would have flexed his arm as he stated it, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Instead, he flashed me what he believed to be a sexy, confident smile and winked. “I play for the Appleby Arrows. Beater, don’t you know?”
“No, not really.” The name tugged vaguely at my memory, but I couldn’t place where I had exactly. “Quidditch isn’t really my thing.” I said truthfully.
Barrett looked confused and shocked at the same time. “Quidditch doesn’t have to be anyone’s thing. It’s just...”
At that moment, the front door unlocked and opened. Claudia stepped into the house, spotted me and smiled.
She took another two steps before stopping cold in her tracks.
Barrett turned slowly, and the two locked eyes.
The tension in the room suddenly escalated as Claudia’s wand dropped from her hand and clattered onto the floor.
Picking it up, Claudia unwrapped the scarf, cleared her throat and said in a clear, flat voice, “Oh, hello Barrett.”
She would have gotten away with her cool composure if I hadn’t noticed a single vein popping out of the right side of her forehead.
“Claudia,” Barrett’s voice was chock-full of charm. “It’s been so long.”
“Yes.” Her voice was frosty. As it should have been, I couldn’t help but think to myself as she continued speaking. “What are you doing here?” What she meant was who let you into my house?
“I came to see you.” Barrett swept over to her and enveloped her in a hug.
Claudia looked stiff, her clear eyes dark and unreadable. She shifted her gaze up towards me, as though I were the one who opened the door for him. I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders and tried to signal that it really wasn’t me.
She sighed as they parted.
“It’s good to see you, Claudia,” he said softly, looking up at her, allowing his eyes to smolder ever so slightly.
She practically melted. I could see the mechanics working in her mind, and how she must be thinking of Theo and everything and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Likewise. Would you like to stay for tea? Charlotte and I will be having some. Let me just put my wrappings away.”
Claudia spoke quickly, allowing her eyes to twinkle a little before rushing up the stairs, grabbing my arm and forcing me back towards her room.
The door closed behind us and Claudia finally seemed to breathe.
“What is he doing here?” She exclaimed, eyes wide, fingers trembling.
“I really don’t know. Truly.” I said honestly, leaning against the wall, trying to be casual. “I was in my room and I heard a doorbell and thought you were coming home. I ran down to meet you and he must have thought I was you because he heard the footsteps and sort of...forced his way in.”
“Typical.” Claudia sat down in front of her dressing table and ran a brush through her hair. Her face was flushed, her eyes actually snapping blue sparks as she talked. “He’s always walking into situations that he’s not wanted in.” She sighed. “Why does he always do this to me?”
She turned to face me and let out another sigh. “Charlotte, tell me I’m a fool.”
“You’re a fool.”
“Tell me I should forget him.”
“You should forget him.”
“I JUST CAN’T!”
“I just can’t...?” I repeated, stupidly.
“No, no,” Claudia shook her head. “Charlotte...” her sudden explosion of emotions surprised me and I walked over to her. “He chucked me and here he is, and I’m practically putty in his hands. What should I do?”
I gave her an awkward smile and shrugged. “Truthfully, I’m probably not the best person to ask.”
“Ah, yes,” she sighed again. “Let us go to tea, then.”
She stood, dusted herself off, grabbed my hand and pulled me out of her room.
“How have you been?” Barrett was gazing at Claudia in a particularly fond way, and she was trying her best to keep cool.
To say the least, I felt like the third-wheel.
“I’ve been well,” Claudia said stiffly, her back straight, her legs crossed and her held her teacup firmly in her right hand. “Have you been well, Charlotte?” She turned, giving me a smile.
“Yup...” I nodded, sipping from the teacup as Barrett kept his eyes glued on Claudia.
“I’ve missed you, Claudia.”
“Hogwarts hasn’t changed a bit, you know.” She was rambling. I had never seen her ramble, before. “Still the same. Quidditch is still Oliver Wood’s life. Quidditch still dominates. Gryffindor still trying to win the cup. Right, Charlotte?”
Claudia kept turning to me. She was speaking to Barrett, but at the same time, she was talking while looking at me. It was really confusing.
“Aren’t you going to ask me whether or not I’ve been well?” Barrett finally broke his gaze from Claudia and turned to me. “Charlotte, have I been well?”
“I dunno,” I choked on my tea. “Have you been well?”
“We’ve been well,” Claudia interrupted. “Have you written to Drew, yet, Charlotte? I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. I actually sent a letter to Theo today.”
“You’re rambling,” I muttered into my cup.
Claudia heard me and her face turned a shade pinker.
“Barrett,” Claudia finally addressed him. He looked at her with keen interest. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, of course.”
“Of course?” Claudia set down her teacup. “Of course. Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” Barrett looked deeply confused. “I care about you, Claudia. I wanted to drop by and say hi. I mean, I’m finally home after --”
“I don’t care.” Her voice had grown small. I tossed a quick glance at her face and saw that she looked deeply troubled. Claudia cleared her throat, casting her eyes up. I noticed that they flickered, like candlelight in the wind. “Barrett, when you left...”
“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He agreed.
“Let me finish!” She sighed. “Barrett, you can’t just come here expecting me to forgive you.”
Looking annoyed, Barrett also set down his cup. He reached for Claudia’s hand, but she kept both her hands tucked firmly in her lap.
“You just...you can’t...not after chucking me before Christmas!”
“I don’t expect forgiveness, Claudia,” Barrett’s voice was strong. “After all, breaking up is a typical part of life. You can’t begrudge me my freedom to explore?”
“You mean flirt with other girls while you’re attached?”
“If you’re talking about Natalia, I’ll have to say that you’re being ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?”
I had never seen Claudia express so much emotion before. It was like the two of them had forgotten I was there. My eyes settled on Claudia when she spoke, but then jumped to Barrett when he retorted. It was like watching a tennis match, but a verbal one.
“You told me that you loved me, and then the next thing I knew, you said you were leaving me because I obviously wasn’t the one for you.”
“I never said that! You’re twisting my words.”
“Twisting your words? HA!”
I tried clearing my throat, moving awkwardly in the chair so that it squeaked under me. I tried clattering the china and gulping the tea before gasping aloud for air.
Nope. None of it worked.
Claudia and Barrett were deep within their heated discussion. She had tried to get me there in order to have support for herself, but once she got into an argument, there was no way I needed to be there any longer.
I got up, cleared my throat, and made for the doorway.
When I put my hand on the china knob, they both turned to me.
Claudia’s eyes were apologetic. “Dinner’s at five.” She turned back towards Barrett. “You won’t be staying.”
“Of course I will!” He retorted, eyes hot on hers. “You can’t expect me to come all this way in that cold not to be treated to dinner...”
I shut the door.
The icy wind nipped my cheeks. I had decided that Claudia and Barrett needed time to talk, maybe yell things out. Not that I had ever imagined Claudia yelling, before.
Nope. She had always been the same. Cold. Never speaking. She would state her case in the argument, and then walk away. Claudia had never stayed to fully argue.
I kept walking until I was quite far from Claudia’s house. I turned and it was a dark shadow, lost within the whirling snow. I took a deep breath and exhaled. The village couldn’t have been too far away, and it was barely two-thirty PM anyway.
I pulled my Gryffindor scarf tighter against my throat and tucked my wand into the back-pocket of my jeans.
It was a quaint town. The shops all had lights in them, and a few houses were scattered along the road. It reminded me of Hogsmeade, except there were Muggles everywhere.
A few of them were yapping on cellphones, looking busy as they browsed shops for Christmas presents. A few girls were complaining about the cold and ducked into one of the nearby cafes.
With my hands in my pockets, I strolled the streets, admiring the shops and the people when someone called my name.
I turned and in my surprise, stepped on an ice patch and slipped.
The figure ran towards me and I realized it was Oliver.
“Hey!” He grinned. “Fancy meeting you here!”
“What are you doing here?” I inquired, startled at his presence as he pulled me back onto my feet.
Oliver looked amused. “I live here!”
“You live here?” I blinked.
“I told you that I lived near Claudia,” he rolled his eyes. “You never remember when I tell you things!”
“I do!” I caught my breath and steadied myself.
I took in the full sight of Oliver.
He looked the same. With his hair slightly wind-tossed, his cheeks and nose red with cold. Oliver looked pleased to see me.
Except, well, there was one slight difference to him.
Oliver had something strapped to his back, and when he saw that I had caught my breath, he turned so that I could see what was on his back.
“Say hello,” Oliver told me, proudly, “to Callum.”
The baby in question cooed. His light brown eyes were like Oliver’s, and he laughed and wiggled its fingers at me.
Gobsmacked, I stared.
Baby. And Oliver?
Oliver...and baby?
What?
Author's Note: WOT. OLIVER AND BABY? It'll be explained in the next chapter! :D I hope the recap helped. I know it was ridiculously vague. :/ I'd LOVE review. I really want to know what you guys think, etc. :)
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Chapter 18: Because We Seem to Understand the Urgency
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It wasn’t making any sense. Oliver swung back around, a grin on his face as he proudly repeated what he had said previously, “This is Callum!” The exclamation was very well-placed, because, well, Oliver sort of shouted it at me.
“Yes...yes,” I nodded. “I know!” I wanted to ask where Callum had come from. “But...”
“But what?” Oliver inquired, a brow lifting up to match his quizzical look. “Isn’t he wonderful?” He tilted his head so that he could look past his shoulder and grin at the child in question.
“What, indeed,” I sighed, giving up on trying to make sense of the situation. “Hello Callum.”
Wasn’t Oliver madly in love with Isabella?
My mind rewound to that day at King’s Cross station. How he had waved goodbye to Claudia and I as he pushed his cart towards the lovely woman standing near one of the benches. How he had swept her up so passionately and had even planted a kiss on her cheek.
My brow furrowed. I didn’t see Oliver as the two-timing type.
“Oh, it’s chilly.” Oliver rubbed his gloved hands together. “You know it’s cold when you can feel your fingers freezing up through your gloves.” He gave me a smile. “Lucy won’t be too pleased that I’ve had Callum out in the cold for so long. She’s always worrying that he’ll get sick, you see.” Oliver explained to me. “Anyway, you look thoroughly chilled. Why don’t you come with me? My house isn’t far from here, and my mum will have my head if I don’t invite you in for some tea and biscuits.”
“I’m full of tea,” I told him honestly. “Seriously. I actually just finished having tea with Claudia.”
“There is no such thing as being too full of tea.” Oliver quoted. “That’s what my mum always says. Besides, I told you, my home isn’t far and I feel like the wind is going to pick up. Better wait out the incoming storm, don’t you think?” He gave me a gentle push towards the direction of his home.
Powerless, I allowed him to direct me towards the Wood residence. He walked a few blocks up the street before turning right and taking a sharp left turn out of the main street. We weaved through a crowd of muggles and managed quite a ways out of town.
“It’s small, but it’s home.” Oliver said to me as we approached a happy looking home with smoke rising out of the tall chimney.
Right away, I could tell that it was enchanted to be much bigger than it appeared. After all, how could so many people live in what appeared to be a shack?
(Even though I didn’t know how many were in Oliver’s family. For all I knew, Oliver could be hiding three more children under that roof.)
“Oi,” a voice called to us as Oliver approached the front door. He tossed me a panicked look before pulling it open. “Oliver, is that you?”
“Aye,” Oliver stamped his feet against a mat before letting me into the house. “Sorry, I didn’t think it would take so long.”
A tall woman approached us, her hair flaming red in the light. She was very freckled with a small nose and a generous mouth. She raised up her arm and slapped him on the arm. “Did you confound me or something?” Oliver turned gently and allowed her to unstrap Callum from the baby carrier. “How in Merlin’s sagging right --”
“Language,” another voice called out from what I made out to be a small kitchen. “The child’s only a baby, but you should be watching your language, Lucy.”
The girl called Lucy scowled, but her expression softened when Callum reached out and tugged on one of her copper curls.
“How in Merlin’s name did you manage to convince me to let you take my precious Callum out on a walk on a cold day like this?”
“It wasn’t just a walk,” Oliver left me standing by the door and headed to the kitchen. “Mum said she needed me to go buy some eggs.” He pulled out a bag from underneath his cloak. “And I thought Callum would like some fresh air, since he’s been cooped up in his house all week.”
“He’s a baby, not a dog,” Lucy rolled her eyes.
The woman I guessed to be Oliver’s mother came into the main room. “Could the two of you stop fighting for a few minutes?” She rubbed her temples. “No wonder I’ve aged so! No need for others wreaking havoc on my youth, not when I have the both of you.”
Oliver gave a laugh and disappeared into the kitchen, reemerging with two biscuits shoved into his mouth.
The older woman’s rolled her eyes and sighed, turning towards the door when she stopped.
Awkwardly, our eyes met, and I raised my hand up in salutation.
“Oliver, who’ve you brought home with you?” her eyes were kind, and she addressed her son with a whack to the back of the head as he walked by. “What manners? Don’t you have a mother to teach them to you? Have I failed?”
“No, mum,” Oliver cringed, rubbing the back of his head as he swallowed the biscuits. “I found one of my schoolmates wandering the street.”
“Why were you wandering?” Missus Wood came to me, her hands clutching mine as she let go in a hurry. “Dear, you’re chilled through. Make room, Lucy.” She bustled to the fireplace and out of nowhere, she pulled out her wand and managed to conjure up a fire.
Lucy was smoothing down her skirts and plumping the pillows on one of the arm chairs. She gestured for me to sit there.
“Anyways,” Oliver coughed as a few loose crumbs hit the back of his throat unexpectedly. “Charlotte, this is my mother, Cathy.”
Cathy Wood gave me a wide smile as she hurried back to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, m’dear, we’ll have you warmed up quick. Just let me put on a kettle for you.”
“And this is my sister, Lucy,” Oliver introduced the flame-haired girl sitting diagonally from me. Of course, you’ve already met my favorite nephew, Callum!”
“He’s your only nephew.” She rolled her eyes. “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Lucy added, her tone polite and jolly. “Sometimes I think my brother’s a bit daft,” she told me honestly, as though we were good friends already, “he forgets his manners as though he were never taught them!”
“I know my manners well enough to know that we should not talk about someone while they’re within earshot.” He said pointedly.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’s good to meet you, though. Do you happen to be Charlotte, the girl who is helping Oliver in Potions?”
I blinked a few times. His sister knew of me?
“Charlotte?” Missus Wood’s head popped out of the kitchen, her eyebrows raised in dramatic fashion. “Charlotte Murray?”
“The very one.” Oliver assured from his spot near the doorway leading to the kitchen. He was leaning against it, looking pleased with himself.
His mother whacked the back of his head again.
“Next time, introduce us properly!” She roared. “After all, she’s the one who’s saved your sorry arse.”
I blinked a few more times.
“What she means,” Lucy bent close to me, clarifying her mother’s sentence, “is that we’re very grateful that you’re helping our dearest Oliver in Potions. Merlin knows that failing that subject won’t help him.”
“Mumm,” Oliver whined, rubbing the back of his head. “I wish you wouldn’t do that while company’s over.” He appeared to be pouting. “It’s so bloody embarrassing.”
“Maybe if you remembered your proper manners, I wouldn’t have to embarrass you.” Cathy Wood replied, giving her eyes a roll as she returned from the kitchen with a plate full of biscuits and a steaming teapot.
Lucy helped herself to a biscuit as she balanced Callum on one of her knees. “You know, I don’t quite understand why Callum enjoys spending time with his stupid, thick-skulled uncle.”
“I resent that,” Oliver retorted, settling down on the settee beside me. “After all, what other male figure is he supposed to be in his life? His moronic fath-”
“Go fetch some more firewood, won’t you?” Cathy Wood’s tone of voice was one of warning, and without another word, Oliver stood up and walked out of the house.
“Why is it that every time Matthias is even briefly hinted at, Oliver has to overreact?” Lucy’s gentle honey colored eyes clouded over as she clung hard to her child.
“Because as much as I hate to say it, Oliver’s right,” Missus Wood held out a teacup to me, and knowing better to say no, I accepted it. “Matthias is an idiot. Who would leave such a lovely girl and his son? That’s a good girl.” Missus Wood nodded approvingly at me.
“Would you all stop blaming him?” Lucy sighed. “Maybe it’s me.”
“It is most definitely not you.” Snapped her mother. “Only a heartless idiot would leave his son and the woman who loves him.”
I sipped quietly.
“I’m quite sorry to get you caught up in our family’s troubles, Charlotte.” Oliver’s two female relatives gave me sad, rueful smiles.
“Matthias left me when I told him that I was pregnant.” Lucy’s smile was bittersweet, the right side of her mouth turned up higher than her left side. “He knows that we have a son together, but he won’t come by to see him.”
“And who could say no to such a beautiful babe?” Asked Cathy Wood, looking directly at me.
“No sane person?” I said, quietly.
“Indeed.” She said, satisfied in my answer. “That Matthias James is not a man.”
“Matthias James?” I asked. “Is he of relation to Barrett James?”
“Aye,” Lucy’s eyes sparkled for a brief moment. “Why do you ask? Do you know the family? Are you acquainted with them?”
“Er,” I choked on my tea a little and shook my head. “Only today...I was introduced to Barrett.”
“That’s Matthias’ younger brother.” Lucy explained to me. “Oh, if Barrett is home...then...”
Missus Wood regarded her daughter sadly. “If Matthias wishes to see his son, he would have already stopped by.”
Lucy moved her head, and stared out the frozen window. She made a sound to indicate that she was aware of this fact.
There was an awkward silence and then Oliver hurried back into the room, dropping his armful of wood in the small pile by the fireplace. “Barrett and Matthias James are back in town?” His tone was awful.
Neither of the females said a word.
Oliver let out a string of profanities that would have singed the ears of a sailor. Missus Wood looked amused, yet, she chastised him loudly because Callum was within earshot.
I watched these antics with bemusement. Their bantering was done lovingly, with their eyes sparkling as Missus Wood tried to calm her angry son down as he belittled whoever Matthias was.
Lucy defended the man, saying that she held no bitter feelings towards him and was quite over the fact that he had left her. She insisted that she was indifferent to him.
I took in the whole scene, a strange relief spreading through my body. I watched Callum, blissfully unaware of everything, playing with the button of his mother’s shirt.
For some odd reason, it relieved me to know that Callum wasn’t Oliver’s son. I couldn’t figure out why my chest suddenly contracted in a way that made me wonder if I had heartburn or not.
Trying to distract myself, I tuned back into the conversation, which had slowed a bit.
Oliver was back at the settee, steaming a bit, but looking cheerful again. He seemed to notice that I was taking in the mismatched house full of mismatched furniture and various trinkets.
“That’s my father,” Oliver said proudly as he pointed to one of the photos sitting on top of the fireplace mantle. “Calum Wood. Keeper for the Wimbourne Wasps. He played with Ludo Bagman, you know.” Oliver looked wistfully at the photo. “Let me show you a better photo of me dad in his robes. He looks great.” Oliver dashed out of the room.
At that time, I noticed that both his sister and his mother were looking at the settee with loving expressions.
“He’s so much like father, isn’t he?” Lucy’s voice was soft, her face looking quite pretty and delicate in the flickering firelight.
“Too much.” Their mother agreed, as she poured more tea for me. “Both have Quidditch boiling madly in their veins.” She shook her head. “Calum was a proud man.”
“That's who my darling’s named after,” Lucy told me. “Except I added an extra ‘l’ to his name. It looked better on paper.” She winked at me.
“He’s set on Quidditch, you know,” Missus Wood told me with a sigh. “And I’m worried for him. Charlotte, do you think he’s capable?” She was looking at me, her eyes full of honest, wide-eyed mothering worry.
“I-I don’t know. He’s hard-working. He ought to be fine.”
“True, true.” She accepted my words with a sigh.
“Have you seen him play?” Lucy inquired. “He’s a brilliant Keeper, is he not?”
“Ah,” I said, quite aware that my cheeks were flaming up red. “I...I have never gone to a Quidditch match.”
Both of the women stared at me.
“What do you mean you’ve never gone to a Quidditch match?”
“You’re embarrassing her!” Oliver had returned with a photo album, and he set it next to the tray of food and tea. “Quidditch isn’t for everyone, you know. Sorry.” He smiled at me.
“It’s alright.” I gave a wide-smile. “You’re all very generous. Thank you for allowing me to stay for tea, but...”
My hint was rejected immediately by Oliver’s mother. “But you’d think I’d allow you to wander back home with this cold? No. I think you will stay for dinner.”
“Ah,” I gave a cringe. “But I’m staying with the Grays, and it would be rude...”
Oliver’s lips raised in a smirk as he flipped open the album.
“Nonsense.” Missus Wood said, rising up and dusting her hands on her apron. “I will Owl the Grays and insist upon your staying for dinner. You will take the Floo back to their home. Walking in this cold is just ridiculous.”
“You should just give in,” Oliver whispered to me. “Mother’s quite persistent.”
A smile tugged on my lips, my heart suddenly swelling with admiration for this woman.
“I’d love to stay for dinner.”
“They don’t approve, you know,” we were all seated at the round dining table and Oliver was on my right, addressing me. “Dad died in a Quidditch accident, and Mum doesn’t want me to play.”
Missus Wood’s face flushed pink as she ladled extra helpings of rich food onto my plate. “Honestly, Charlotte, do you blame me for worrying?”
“Honestly,” Lucy shook her head, mid-way through feeding her son from a small spoon. “Quidditch is dangerous, Oliver, and you know what can happen --”
“When something goes wrong, yes,” Oliver sighed. “But I also know what can happen when you’re successful! If I play Quidditch, we’ll never have to live in this hovel again.” He paused and drank his juice dramatically.
“Oi,” Missus Wood set down the bowl of food roughly. “You should be grateful for what you have. It might be a hovel, but we’re all quite comfortable, aren’t we?”
“You deserve better.” Oliver said truthfully. “Both of you. Not a rotting shack. Not a ruddy let-down of a boyfriend who abandons you with their child.”
I ate quietly. This was a new side of Oliver that I had never seen before. He looked so passionate, his face lit up by both the kitchen lights and heat of the moment.
Lucy smiled lovingly at her brother, her eyes full of tears. Missus Wood bowed her head over her teacup.
Oliver was righteous, but he had always been righteous. But this was a new kind of righteousness. It was at that moment that I knew why he was a Gryffindor.
My lips pulled themselves into a smile, my face flushing with something I didn’t understand. I felt my chest contract again, and I coughed.
“That’s quite the promise, Oliver,” I found myself saying in-between coughs.
Lucy reached over and pounded on my back, clearing my airways.
Oliver let out a laugh and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s the truth though, innit? I’m only saying what I wish.”
“Godric Gryffindor would be proud.”
“Aye,” Lucy agreed as she hoisted up her sleepy Callum. With her baby in her arms, she walked over to the other side of the table and rubbed her brother’s face fondly. “Got some real heart in ya, boy.”
We were all smiling as Missus Wood’s teary eyes sparkled. She picked up another dish of food and began piling it up on my plate. “You really should eat more, Charlotte. You’re so skinny. What would your mother say if she saw you?”
I loved this time with Oliver’s family. They bantered and fought and loved each other so wholeheartedly that sometimes, I felt like I was rudely interrupting something that didn’t have anything to do with me.
Even though I spent the majority of that night saying nothing and just observing, I saw a brand new side of Oliver. It was like a light bulb had gone on in my head. Before, I had always dismissed his love of Quidditch for something stupid, unworthy of notice, but now, I had to say that I admired him. I admired Oliver’s persistence and his dream.
I finally understood why Oliver was so passionate about this sport. It meant an escape for his family and for himself.
“Come back soon, alright?” Missus Wood smiled at me. “It does get awfully boring with just those two as company.” She grinned.
As I fastened my cloak tighter and fixed my scarf, I saw her take Oliver away.
When she thought I was out of earshot, I heard her say to her son: “She might not be a talkative one, son, but I know that that Charlotte girl has a golden heart. You can see it in her eyes. Treat her well, you hear me?”
Oliver just laughed, insisting something inaudible as Lucy came bustling back into the room. “I finally found the Floo powder! It was hiding somewhere in one of the closets.” She held it out to me. “Please come see us, soon! I can’t stand just having Oliver for company. His conversation is so boring and stilted. Promise you’ll come back.”
“I’ll try,” I smiled. “No guarantee. Claudia has claim to me for the rest of the holidays.”
“Ah, well,” Lucy looked disappointed. “Maybe I’ll see you again before you return to Hogwarts?”
“Probably.” I laughed. “It’s been lovely. Dinner was incredible. You have all been too kind to me.”
I took a handful of the green powder and threw it into the crackling flames.
Oliver and his family were waving at me. He looked genuinely happy and even gave me a hug before I departed.
“It was nice bumping into you.”
I inhaled his scent, my cheeks flaring up and my stomach suddenly flip-flopping.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It was nice.”
I turned back around, my head trying to banish the warmness I felt throughout my body, the rush of blood to my brain.
“Gray House!” I shouted, stepping into the fire as it engulfed me, sending me spiralling down towards my destination.
Claudia met me in their dining room, her eyes clouded and her expression tired.
“I’m sorry.” I told her, truthfully. “I didn’t mean to abandon you.”
“You didn’t.” She smiled. “I’m glad you were able to escape this wretched house, even for a day.” Claudia linked her arm through mine and led me up the stairs. “Barrett has gone, hopefully, forever.”
“Claudia,” I paused, thinking of Lucy and Callum. “Do you know if Barrett’s older brother is Matthias?”
“Matthias James?” She nodded vigorously, her dark hair shaking. “He’s also a Quidditch player. He’s the reason why Barrett is such a jerk.” Claudia’s voice thickened. “And why Oliver was so kind to me after Barrett left me.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I met Oliver’s sister, Lucy, today.”
Claudia looked interested. We paused on the stairs. “He has a sister named Lucy?”
“She was with Matthias and they have a son.”
Claudia’s eyes widened. “They have a son?”
I nodded. “He left her when she told him that she was pregnant.”
“I just thought Oliver hated Barrett and Matthias because of Quidditch at school.” Claudia sighed. “Now this is indeed a revelation.”
“I thought the same thing.”
It was funny, how gossip could sometimes bring people together.
“Claudia,” we paused in front of my door. She looked at me, and I smiled encouragingly at her. “I know that we aren’t the closest of friends, but I want to assure you that whatever has happened between you and Barrett...”
Claudia’s lips were curling into a shy smile as she awkwardly brushed some of her hair behind her ears.
“I guess what I’m saying is that if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”
My friend hugged me tightly, and for a moment, I thought she was laughing. She wasn’t. She burst into sobs, fat tears rolling down her face and dripping onto my shirt.
I led her into my room and situated her in one of the fat arm chairs.
“It’s so tiring, Charlotte,” Claudia said, her sentence barely comprehensible. “It’s so tiring trying to act like I don’t care when I was obviously do.”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether she was referring to everyday, or this particular case with Barrett. I decided that it didn’t matter and planted myself at her feet, my chin resting on her knee.
“He broke my heart, and he comes waltzing into my home, acting as though he has the right to.” She sniffed, inhaled deeply and blinked a few tears out of her crystal clear eyes. “And dinner was just awful. Mum was thrilled to have him here, of course. Anyone soon to be famous is always someone of importance.
“I didn’t know if I could take it, but I decided that I would try. And all through dinner, he kept making comments, hinting as though he were going to marry me. As though he were going to stay with me forever. But he’s not. He’s not, even though I loved him more than I would have ever thought possible...”
“Claudia,” I stopped her, my eyes scanning over her wet face. “What happened between the two of you?”
She looked as though she were going to clam up again.
“I have to tell someone.” Claudia said, more to herself than me. “I need to get this blasted boulder off my shoulders.” Her lips twitched. “We were involved, as you know.”
I nodded.
“Barrett and I.” Claudia clarified for no particular reason. “We were involved. Did you ever see him around Hogwarts? Tall, dignified. A wonderful Quidditch player, and soon to be taken to the Arrows. Every girl at Hogwarts was head over heels for him. You saw that smile. How could you not?” She gave a nod. “I should have known better. I should have guessed that a girl like me would not be able to find what I thought I had found.”
“And what’s that?” I peered closely into her face.
Her features morphed into something twisted, something ugly. It was as though I had just seen a Veela transform from a beautiful lady into a horrible monster. “Happiness.”
Author's Note: Aren't you guys pleased with the speedy updates? XP I know I am! It's so nice to be working just on this story and not get jumbled up with other things. :) I really hope you guys are enjoying it!
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And Claudia told me everything.
And I really mean, everything. She told me about the promises. The way she’d stay up all night, waiting for him in the Astronomy tower (she confessed that despite how cliche it was, she had thought it quite romantic at the time) and how her heart fluttered and flew up into her throat whenever she saw him.
She told me that he waltzed with her through the dark, empty hallways, humming a soft tune and sweeping stray hairs out of her face.
He kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. He let his eyelashes flutter across her pale skin in the moonlight.
Claudia was crying, clear-blue eyes that resembled lakes, now identical to dual-waterfalls pouring down her pale, sculpted cheeks.
She clutched onto my arm tightly, her words barely comprehensible. Claudia told me how he’d skip class to meet her underneath the Quidditch stands and how they’d sit there, just talking about what the future would be like. Their hands would be clasped together, tightly, and how she thought it was perfect because everything that she wanted...he wanted too.
A quiet country home. A white picket fence. Flowerbeds, dogs, children.
He’d play Quidditch, and she’d watch the children and take care of the house. And he’d come home, sweep her into his arms and she’d inhale, smelling the sweet scent of sky.
“It was all a lie, Charlotte,” Claudia told me. “I didn’t know, but even when we were at Hogwarts, Barrett was unfaithful.”
“How could you not have known?”
“How could I have told someone all my hopes and dreams? How could I have allowed myself to be forced to reckon with the truth after everything I had told him?” Her face flushed red, an ugly, splotchy red. “We talked about children, Charlotte. I was too free with him. My heart was too open.”
She recoiled a bit, biting her lips until I saw blood.
“We were going to run away.”
The sentence she had uttered caught me off guard. My mouth was left hanging, my eyes wide. I was surprised because it had nothing to do with any of her previous sentences. I understood that she was serious about Barrett...but I supposed that I never really grasped just how serious.
“I was going to leave Hogwarts at 18 and run away with him.” Claudia let out a watery laugh that sounded bitter. “Can you believe it? After the Trace was off me when I was seventeen, we began planning for it. It was supposed to happen shortly after my eighteenth birthday.” Her fingernails were tapping the wood, eyes lowered and voice quiet. “Term ended and we were headed home for the summer holidays.”
“Running away?” I prompted. “Why?”
Claudia laughed, another bitter, half-hearted laugh. “Why not? Look at this house. It’s a ghost house, haunted by generations before me. Look at my family; my seemingly perfect mother who parades around as though she’s the Queen of bloody everything. My father, who hates his job and is never home except for mealtime.”
She tilted her head up, and the light from the fire flickered across her cheekbones.
“I’m just a pawn, Charlotte.” Her smile was lopsided, the right side riding higher than the left. “My mother will just use me to her advantage, and my father doesn’t care enough to say anything against her. Every time I look at this house. Every time I look around...I hate it more.”
“I’m...sorry...” I mumbled, not quite sure what to say.
“Merlin,” Claudia gasped. “I sound like a pretentious, spoiled, lady of privilege who complains even when she has everything.”
“Claudia,” I grabbed her hands and shook my head. “No, no...privilege doesn’t mean you can’t complain. Everyone complains.”
“You know what the worst part is?” she inquired, ignoring my statement.
I shook my head.
“I’m turning into her...” her voice lowered drastically, and her eyelids closed. “I feel it. I’m becoming everything that I despise.”
“You know what’s odd?” I asked her, and as her eyes flitted up to my own, I felt a warm confidence growing in my chest. “I feel the same way. That as much as I love and adore my family, I don’t want to end up like my mother. I don’t want to do something I hate. I don’t want to live that way solely because that’s all I have and will ever know.”
Claudia’s pale face pinked, and I saw sparkles shift into her dull eyes.
I took a breath in. “I don’t want to become like my mother, either.” A shaky laugh escaped my lips. “I don’t want a mediocre life. I don’t want to die without having accomplished something, anything at all.” I shook my head. “I can’t escape this destiny. I’m bound to become like my mother, and it kills me that I can’t do anything.”
“You don’t have to, Charlotte.” Claudia said quietly.
“Then neither do you.” I told her. “You wanted to run away with Barrett because you thought that he was your only chance to escape, right?”
Claudia nodded. “Promises. Empty ones. I had packed my trunk, and had hastily written a note to my parents, half-apologizing, half-blaming them for what I was about to do. He was supposed to be under the large oak tree in the front.”
I knew what she was talking about. The oak tree was the only tree in the front of the house. It towered up into the air, its limbs heavy from years of just living.
“I waited until dawn.” Claudia closed her eyes. “I sat at the base of the tree, my trunk next to me, my wand in hand, and as the sun inched higher and higher up the horizon...I realized that he was never going to come. I managed to get back up to my room before my parents realized anything. I burned the note.”
“Did he ever give you a reason?”
Claudia let out a breath. “He said that it was foolish. Stupid.” Her face took on an annoyed look. “He was the one who came up with it, of course, and now he was telling me that the Arrows would never allow him to travel with me, and that if I did follow after him, we would have no place to stay...
“But I told him! I told him every single time that he questioned me about it! I said that it didn’t matter if I didn’t have any place to stay. As long as I was with him, it didn’t matter if we were camping in the middle of the Quidditch pitch inside a tent.”
“He wanted to leave you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” Claudia affirmed. “I should’ve recognized the signs. I should have realized that he was over me. He had gotten all that he could get from me -- support, network ties to the Department of Games and Sports...that was all he needed, and then he left me...but before he actually ‘left’ me, he kept me trailing after him like a lovesick puppy.”
“He didn’t,” I frowned. “Why did you cling on?”
“I thought it was a rough patch!” Claudia exclaimed. “I thought he was just being practical and it was just something we had to work our way through. I realized that relationships were difficult, but I didn’t know that he was tricking me.”
“And then what?”
“I was putty in his hands until Christmas, which was months after he left to play for the Arrows. One of his teammates had introduced him to a girl. She was, of course, stunning and beautiful. You know, all legs and tits?” Claudia gestured to her legs and to her average chest. “Face-full of make up, brilliant shining grey eyes and porcelain skin.”
I made a face.
“I know!” Claudia exclaimed, enthusiastic. “My entire life is a walking cliche.”
“And he had the nerve to bring her to my house. He waltzed his way in, like today, and we had tea. Serena or Moonshine or whatever the hell her name was...” Claudia continued on, pushing through the rest of her story with a deep intake of breath and a slow exhale. “...she just sat there like a plastic doll, blinking at me through a haze of mascara and pink lipstick. She didn’t want tea or biscuits and just sort of looked down on me, as though I were unworthy. Barrett then tells me that he loves her, and that I was nothing, just a dalliance to pass the time.”
She hiccuped, and closed her eyes for a moment. It was as though she had no more tears left to cry.
“He had to bring his new bloody girlfriend to rub in my face. I couldn’t understand it. He said that she was ‘the one’ -- whatever the hell that means, right? -- and that I wouldn’t be able to fathom the sort of relationship they had...that what they had was ‘real’ and what we had was just stupid teenage love.”
I glanced at the clock on top of the fireplace mantle and widened my eyes in surprise. It was almost 3 in the morning. Claudia and I had been talking since eight PM.
“Dinner tonight must have been awful. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you.”
“Barrett told me tonight that he and that terrible girl were done. He said that they were engaged for a good half-year and that it just wasn’t worth the trouble, and she had gone off with an American.”
“I can’t imagine what his motives were for coming here.” I furrowed my brows.
“It’s done, though, thankfully.” Claudia breathed, as if relieved. “Dinner was awful, but on the way out, he grabbed my hand and told me to give him another chance. I refused, naturally.”
“Naturally.” I said proudly.
“And I told him that the next time I saw his face, I would hex him all the way to the bottom of the Atlantic ocean.”
“He didn’t take kindly do that,eh?”
“Nope.” Claudia looked pleased with herself. “Called me a righteous bitch. Acting like I was too good for him. Asked me where the old Claudia had gone.” She grinned at me, an actual grin. “I told him that she had gone when he left me.”
“Flounced out, right? Flounced all the way home, probably.”
“Probably.” Claudia told me. “It feels so good to be able to tell someone.” She sighed, content for the time being. “I feel as though knowing him has aged me.”
“You do look exhausted,” I told her. “Maybe you should go to bed. After all, it’s very late and you’ve had a long and never-ending day.”
“True.” Claudia smiled. “Thank you, Charlotte.”
She stood up and before she pulled the door open, I stopped her.
“Did you ever tell Piper this?”
She looked guilty. “Parts.” Claudia said, casting her eyes down. “Not everything. I didn’t know...I wasn’t...”
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” I replied. “Good night.”
Claudia paused again, as though she were going to say something else. “Good night, Charlotte. Sleep well.”
The door shut with a click and I collapsed on my bed. How much information could a single person take in? Oliver had a sister named Lucy. Lucy had a baby with Barrett James’ older brother, Matthias. Oliver hates the both of them. Oliver’s father died in a Quidditch accident. Claudia was betrayed and hurt.
And then I remembered what I had found in the Gray’s library. I recalled the snippets of paper from The Daily Prophet and what I had discovered back at Hogwarts.
I was beginning to put the pieces together. A lock of dark brown hair, an old photo and a ring. All shoved in a box hidden in the least-travelled room in the entire manor.
But things were still missing. I sighed, groaned and rolled over so that I was lying on my stomach, my face turned towards the window.
I saw the owl, finally.
A small Screech owl had been perched patiently on the back of the wooden chair. It fluffed its feathers upon being noticed and flew towards me. Landing softly on my bed, it stuck out its leg obediently for me to untie the letter from its leg.
I recognized Drew’s handwriting. Surprised that the owl did not fly away, but only zoomed back towards the chair, I turned my attention back towards the letter.
Ripping off the top of the envelope with my wand, I pulled out the note tucked inside. His handwriting was neat, easy to read and had a very stiff way of being perfectly aligned on the line-less paper.
My eyes were drifting shut.
I blinked, trying to ignore the fatigue as I read the first couple lines of his letter:
My Charlotte,
I can only hope that your holidays have been pleasant thus far. I’m sure the Gray’s have a splendid house and that you’re simply rolling in the luxuries. Good for you. You must write to me and tell me of the amenities -- after all, I hope that I may one day enjoy the same luxuries that you are currently experiencing. Anyways, I am digressing from my topic. It is soon to be Christmas and I find that post is always excruciatingly slow during that time, so I took it upon myself to send you your gift early. I hope you don’t mind.
I remembered that you told me that you didn’t have an owl. Happy Christmas! He was seen gliding gracefully through the menagerie. He seemed very well tempered and patient.
Goodness, Charlotte, can you imagine that one day we may be able to live as well as the Grays? It is certainly a goal, is it not? We must both strive together.
All my love,
Drew
What was Drew and his use of ‘we?’ It was annoying. Yes, I’m admitting it. I might fancy the pants off of Drew, but his constant use of ‘we’ to describe future situations is quite irritating.
After all, who can be so certain of the future? Death may come and claim one of us before we can even fathom what is happening.
I reread the line we must both strive together and sighed.
Maybe the tiredness was getting a hold of me. I was not usually upset by Drew, but that particular line struck a chord with me.
My memory flashed back to Oliver and the library. His words hung thick in the air as I struggled to answer: ”What do you want to do?”
And then I realized that, wait a second, Drew bought me an owl?
An actual...live...sodding...owl.
I glanced up at the owl again. It hooted softly, clicking its beak in affirmation of my unasked question.
A bloody owl.
My boyfriend bought me an owl.
How was I going to top this?
I left the letter on my nightstand and groaned my way out of my clothes and into my pajamas. Quickly, I glanced at my trunk, where Drew’s gift had sat for about two weeks, ever since it had arrived via the owl-order in the newspaper.
Forget it. Just, forget it.
Crawling into bed, I banished all other thoughts from my mind.
Nighttime was time for sleeping, not time for thinking or worrying.
“I like how he calls you ‘my’ Charlotte,” Claudia raised an eyebrow. She was still in her night-clothes, sprawled on my unmade bed as we had breakfast in my room. Her eyes scanned over the letter as she bit into crunchy toast.
“He got me an owl, Claudia. A real live bloody owl. My present is going to look so pathetic next to his. He’s going to think that I’m ridiculous -- what was I thinking, anyway? His family owns a quill and parchment shop! Why would I buy him more quills?”
“But they’re fancy quills.” Claudia replied, setting down the letter and watching me carefully. “They were probably expensive.”
“They were!” I replied, sighing. “I’m going to have to toss them into the rubbish bin now and find him a proper present.”
“Don’t fuss so much.” She grinned and handed me a fork. “I’m sure he’ll love whatever you get him because it doesn’t matter what the gift is, it matters that it was you who got it for him.”
I gave her a look.
“Who am I kidding?” Claudia said, looking much happier than yesterday (and yes, much more...dare I say it? Carefree...) “Of course the present matters. If it makes you feel better, we can go into town and you can buy him something better, alright? How about something made by Muggles? Those are always fun and unexpected.”
“Yes, yes,” I frowned, thinking about the expensive owl-post order I had filled out two weeks ago. “It’s a pity to throw it out, though...” I pulled out the leather case and admired it.
“How about re-gifting?” Claudia moved so that she was on her back, her eyes now back to reading the letter. “Who do you know needs some new quills? And shiny new parchment? And this gloriously wonderfully expensive leather case?”
“Dunno.” Was my reply as I slid down my seat and into a supposed puddle on the floor. “Ridiculous. Should just bin it.”
Claudia rolled her eyes. “Charlotte, please, we can fix this. It’s not the end of the world. He’s not going to think any less of you -- he better not think any less of you.”
“Not making me feel any better.” I sighed.
“Alright.” Claudia sat up and stared straight at me, her clear-eyes focused intently on mine. “Get dressed, I’ll call for the house elves. We are going to pick out an even better present for Drew. I’m quite determined.”
“What’s the use?” I slumped some more. “He got me a bloody owl. Nothing’s going to top a bloody owl.”
She raised her eyebrow. “We’ll find something yet.”
Claudia pulled me out into the snow, ten thousand times more cheerful than she was last night.
“Are you certain you’re alright?” I called after her, trailing as Claudia’s firm grip on my hand tightened, pulling me closer and closer to town.
“Never been better.” She breathed, her breath frosty in the freezing air.
We were bundled up in Gryffindor scarves, coats and cloaks tightly fastened underneath our chins and mittens on each hand. We stomped through the heavy snow, hands held tightly together as Claudia led the way.
“Do you have any idea where we’re going to go look for something for Drew?” I pitter-pattered around the subject awkwardly, unsure of my steps and nearly tripping over my own feet a few times.
“Maybe he’ll be interested in some Muggle stuff.” She replied.
“But I haven’t got any Muggle money.” I protested.
“I’ll lend you some,” Claudia turned, the sweetest (and scariest) smile on her face, “Don’t worry. You can pay me back in Wizarding gold later. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She turned and continued her rapid steps. “Maybe some elecky things?”
“Electric?” I inquired, the half-Muggle I was. “Claudia, have you even seen Muggle electronics?”
“Whatever these electry-thingys are,” was the reply I received as we neared the bustle and sounds of holiday cheer, “they do sound quite exciting, don’t they?”
“Why do you have Muggle money but I don’t?”
“Oh,” Claudia said airily, “my parents keep a constant supply because we live so near a Muggle town.” She smiled. “Though, I don’t think they have ever ventured so far. I have gone, though, only because I snuck out to satiate my curiosity. Your father’s a Muggle, yes?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “Hardly believed my mum when she told him that she was a witch. He thought she was right starking mad...but of course, little did he know that she was telling the truth.”
“How is your parents relationship, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Strange.” I replied. “Sleeping in the same room but in separate beds.”
“That is peculiar.” Claudia said. “Do you know why they don’t just divorce?”
“Dunno.” I shrugged. “I do think they’ve discussed it a few times...but I personally think it’s because they still...somehow...underneath all the rubbish that’s happened...they still love each other.”
“That’s better than most!” She replied happily. “My parents can hardly stand each other!” A smile was still on her face as she kept on marching. “I don’t even know why and how they managed to get together in the first place. Even the Malfoys are still madly in love -- and goodness knows how strange that family is.”
What happens when you get married? What happens to that bliss and happiness that joined you in the first place?
I bit my lips.
I hoped that my parents were in love. Every so often I caught them eyeing each other strangely, their lips turned up and their eyes sparkling. But when they fought...they really fought. The roof shook, the walls quaked, the windows broke. Mum’s shout was magnified by magic, and Dad’s yodels were barely muffled by Mum’s spells.
He always said it wasn’t fair that she got to use magic during arguments when he was so clearly at a disadvantage.
All in all, mum always had to be right -- and she usually was. Only because Dad gave up by the time the roaring began. Their rows stopped ten minutes through, him giving up to her demands and settling in front of the telly with a beer.
We were in the main street, thick within the stampede of last-minute Christmas shoppers. Claudia admired each Muggle carefully, unusually unabashed in her curiosity.
“Wands away,” I muttered, grabbing her wand and shoving it into my pocket. “They’ll think you’re mad.”
“They’re a curious lot, aren’t they? I wonder how they get along without magic.” She smiled. “Wonder what’s it like to live without magic -- strange thought, eh?”
“Not so strange.” I replied, as we made a stop within an electronics store selling music players of some sort.
Claudia touched everything, her eyes scanning and observing what was before her. Thick plastic cases attached to more plastic, curved to fit over one’s head with soft, fabric-like things to cover the ears.
“Are they like, ear-muffs?” Claudia snapped some over her ears and then yelped in surprise. “There’s music!”
“It’s a CD-player.” I told her. I sighed. “These wouldn’t work at Hogwarts, anyway.”
She wasn’t paying attention. Instead, she was toying around with the plastic body of the CD-player until she had popped it open. “What’s this?” She pointed to the CD inside, the shiny surface reflecting our distorted reflections.
Claudia tried to bend it.
I wretched it out of her hands and put it back on the shelf as the store manager looked over at us from the counter and whispered something like, “Teenagers.”
“You really haven’t been out much with the Muggles, huh?”
“Nope.” She nodded. “Came once. Broke a window. Ran away and repaired it by magic later that night. They never suspected a thing, I suppose.”
We exited the store and collided into some people that we soon recognized.
“Oliver! Lucy.” I smiled, breathing in the scent of their house with each gasp of air I took. “Where’s Callum?”
“At home with his grandmum,” Lucy’s expression was bright, and her cheek dimpled. “Came around to have a looksie and buy her something for Christmas.”
We stood there awkwardly until I remembered Claudia.
“Ah, yes, Oliver, you know Claudia.” He gave an awkward nod. “Lucy, this is my friend Claudia Gray, and Claudia, this is Oliver’s sister, Lucy.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Lucy stuck out her hand and Claudia shook it, her icy stare back in place. She coughed and excused herself before walking away.
“Excuse her,” I hastily said to them, unsure of why her behavior had suddenly changed so drastically. “Not her day, you know. Just finished that nasty Barrett business yesterday.”
Oliver’s face mutated into one of distaste and Lucy went quiet.
“Er,” I amended. “She’s not feeling too well. A bit peckish. Just taking a turn about, trying to find something for Drew for Christmas.”
“Right,” Oliver nodded. “Speaking of which, I’ve got your present back at home if --”
The sentence was interrupted by Lucy’s sudden sharp intake of air and the turning of her face away from the street. She clung tightly to Oliver’s arm, shielding her face. “Oliver,” she murmured so that I could barely hear. “Oliver, I see Matthias.”
And he said something along the lines of, “I thought you were quite over him.”
“I am...but it’s embarrassing...I look awful. Oliver hide me!”
I turned and saw that Claudia had also stopped walking. She was hidden behind a lamp post (or trying to hide behind it) as Barret James walked by it. He was striking in a bright blue coat that made his skin pale and his hair shiny. His eyes glimmered.
As they all said, he was quite handsome.
On the other hand, Matthias was a little less handsome, with features much too cut to be considered handsome. A nose too large. Lips too prominent. Hair too dark. All mashed in with a cupid face and thick brows.
Callum looked nothing like his father, maybe, except for the coloring. I could see Matthias’ dark hair reflected in his son’s, their eyes similarly shaped -- but everything else was all Lucy. Soft and handsome. A strange mix, indeed.
Matthias hadn’t spotted Lucy, but Barrett had spotted me.
He came gliding (why gliding? Was he a magic carpet?) over and smiled at me.
“I met you yesterday! Charlotte, you said your name was?”
Oliver made an impatient sound and I saw Lucy rushing away.
“Oh, Wood, you’re here too.” He raised a brow. “Are you two acquainted?”
“Very much so.” Oliver stated, his voice dripping with disdain. “What are you doing here, Barrett?”
Unlike the man standing to my left, Oliver was much more polite, using his first name instead of throwing out his surname like it was dirt.
“Shopping, like everyone else. You know that we live nearby.”
I spied Claudia’s pale, shocked face from behind a bush.
(Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we have now seen Claudia at her lowest -- hiding behind a bush.)
“Yes.” Oliver drawled out, now easily leaning against a wall, his tall frame seemingly looming over Barrett’s.
Oliver might be described as burly, but he was also tall and graceful. I realized his steps were soft, much like how a dancer dances over the floor, even when they don’t realize it.
“So you do.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Barrett turned his attention to me once again. “I was speaking to the lady.”
“Except the lady is already spoken for.” Oliver replied, tone-even, eyebrows distanced apart, stare cold. “You’re wasting your charms and charisma.”
“We were just making polite conversation.” Barrett argued.
A hand was placed on Barrett’s shoulder, and I saw his taller, less-handsome brother, Matthias loom in on the conversation.
“Is there a problem, lads?”
Author's Note: Yay! Almost to chapter 20! And then from there, 10 or so more chapters and this story will be wrapping up. Lots more happening. Ends to tie up. Romance to plot. You know, the works. :)
Reviews are nice. They make me happy. ^__^
♥
I took a step back as Oliver’s face tightened. He may not have liked Barrett, but he especially disliked Matthias.
“He’s just talking to the girl, Wood, no reason to be alarmed.” Matthias’ voice was much deeper, very commanding. He seemed every bit like the Quidditch captain he was.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to him,” Oliver replied. “That’s a fair thought, isn’t it Matthias?” He almost tripped over the name. I could see his mouth working frustratedly as it formed the name Matthias.
I couldn’t agree more. The name Matthias did leave a strange, bitter taste on one’s tongue.
“Let’s ask her then, shall we?” I took another step back as three pairs of eyes turned to me.
I coughed. “What?”
“He’s just talking to you,” Matthias reasoned. “Is he not allowed to speak to you? Or is your boyfriend too possessive to let you talk to other blokes?”
“Boyfriend?” I squeaked.
Oliver didn’t correct them. He just glowered, his eyes glowing like two coals.
They seemed to get closer and closer and I felt my lungs sucking in more and more air with each step until I was backed against the wall.
“She’s obviously uncomfortable.” He returned to that nonchalant drawl that he had used previously, and turned his gaze elsewhere.
Oliver Wood was just too damn cool.
I shifted a bit, and lowered my eyes some more. “I don’t really know...” There was a long pause as I racked my brain, trying to figure out something to say. My mouth opened and closed rapidly, a great imitation of a bland, stupid goldfish as three pairs of eyes stared at me, waiting to see what would happen.
Oliver had seemingly dropped the cool act as fast as he had adopted it.
“I mean, we met yesterday but I don’t really know you, you know? Like, really know you. I mean, you know my friend. Or, uh, we weren’t really friends until I came here and then we really bonded and just, it’s been great. She’s a great friend. But you’re a jerk...” My words all sort of came out in this rapid succession of confusion. “You need to stop walking around like you’re some sort of demi-God because it’s disgusting and what is up with your eyebrows? And do you even know what your son’s name is? That you even have a son?” I don’t think any of it made sense because the three pairs of eyes looked confused. “And what is this boyfriend thing you’re talking about? He is obviously not my boyfriend. I mean, he’s not even my type. We’re seeing other people and we’re both really happy about it and I really don’t know why he’s telling you that he’s my boyfriend. Is that even what he said? I’m not even sure. All these things unsaid and said are so confusing -- don’t you think? I mean, we should all just say whatever we mean, right? Wouldn’t that just make the world a much better place?”
At that moment, a hand clasped itself over my mouth as Oliver moved to my side, his eyes locked on the two James brothers. “Clearly, she’s uncomfortable. She doesn’t usually babble.”
I’m not babbling! I wanted to say, but of course, his coarse hand was still clasped firmly over my lips.
The brothers looked bemused, but thankfully, they hadn’t understood me. Matthias looked as though I were a madwoman, and Barrett barely acknowledged what had happened and refused to let it go.
“But,” he said, trying to continue the conversation.
Oliver dragged me away from them.
“Nutter,” I heard Matthias mutter under his breath as I was dragged further and further away from them until we were out of earshot.
Oliver finally removed his hand away from my mouth and breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you were going to say something you were going to regret.”
“ARGHHH,” I let out a roar (at least, I tried to) and began to pummel Oliver. “Are you MAD? BOYFRIEND? What are you telling those people? Oh, my Merlin. I’m dating Drew Oliver! And you’re dating Isabella and oh my goodness, you just...”
But my brain paused for a second -- Oliver had understood my nonsense? My mouth ignored the command to stop talking and continued yelling accusations at him.
“They don’t think that I’m your boyfriend,” he tried to defend himself as I smacked his arms and his torso.
“OF COURSE THEY DO. YOU SAID I WAS SPOKEN FOR. YOU ACTED ALL COOL. YOU PULLED ME AWAY. GAHHHHHHH. STUPID!” My fists were small compared to the hands that enveloped them as he tried to stop my hitting.
“Calm down!” Oliver winced as I struggled out of his grip and landed a firm hit to his forehead. “Geez, Charlotte,” I instantly fell bad when I saw the red mark on his pale skin. “At least we got away, alright? You didn’t need to be put through that situation and they’re only doing it to annoy me.”
“Matthias is really ugly,” I blurted out, and then suddenly looked away. “Don’t go thinking that I’m shallow or whatnot -- that’s an honest observation.”
“And I completely agree.” Oliver replied, slumping against a wall. “I don’t know what Lucy saw in him, but then again, he was always very charismatic. I’m just thankful Callum doesn’t look too much like him, you know?”
“He’s a very handsome little boy.”
“Got a lot of Wood in him,” Oliver winked at me.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not saying that you’re handsome.”
“Gee, thanks, after I saved you from --”
“Sorry I bolted,” a breathless Lucy apparated in front of us with a crack. She smiled. “I just couldn’t...deal with it.”
“It’s quite alright.” I replied. “But really, I have to find Claudia so we can go off and find Drew a proper present?”
I saw Lucy nudge her brother.
“Ah, yes,” Oliver nodded. “Your present. Whenever you have time, swing by my house and pick it up? Or I suppose I could just send it to you while you’re at Claudia’s...”
“Whichever is easier,” I replied, turning away from the siblings to look for Claudia.
“I’m here.” Claudia appeared out of nowhere, as though she had been standing there the whole time. “Shall we continue?” She looked coolly at me and her eyes barely drifted onto Oliver and Lucy.
“Yes,” I glanced up at the sky. “We’d better hurry. I want to send it to him as soon as possible.”
As we said our goodbyes and walked away, I couldn’t help but notice the disappointed looks on Oliver and Lucy’s face. My lips pulled themselves into a smile, my stomach suddenly lurching as though I were on a roller coaster.
Something was wrong with me.
It was probably indigestion.
I eventually settled on something safe -- a Muggle camera to take photos with. After all, what was there to dislike about a camera?
Claudia was infatuated with it. She kept toying with it and trying to take photos and I kept trying to tell her that it wouldn’t work without putting the film in first.
“It makes such cool clicking sounds, though.” She murmured, her white hands exploring the shape of it. Claudia didn’t mention running into Barrett and Matthias James.
“Do you think he’ll like it?
“If he doesn’t, you can give it to me.”
“I don’t know what it is with you and re-gifting...but...”
“It’s genius, right?”
I couldn’t help but smile as I rolled my eyes. “Something like that.”
I had also picked up a few cute Christmas cards -- the downside was that I owed Claudia an absurd amount of Muggle money.
“Don’t worry about it,” Claudia replied. “What am I going to buy with it? They’d probably figure out that I’m a loon and have me sent away -- besides, I don’t know what any of these signs mean. How much is this anyway?” She held up the amount and shrugged.
“I will worry about it,” I insisted. “I’ll manage.”
We entered the grand entryway and were descended upon by Claudia’s mother. Scarlett Gray seemed to be in a right state. Dressed in silver silk (funny, right?) robe, with her hair still done up with rollers, she rushed at us.
“Where have you been?” She inquired, her tone high-pitched; her composure was gone, and she seemed to have forgotten that I was a guest. “‘Laudi, I’ve been calling for you for the past hour and a half! No one knows where you’ve gone and I desperately need your help.”
Claudia tried to be patient, but right away I could tell that she had already moved from pleasantly being an actual human being to an ice queen. “What do you need help with?”
“I’m dying, dying to know whether or not I can borrow your blue silk dress. You know the one I’m talking about? The one your father bought you?”
My friend’s face seemed to take on a tired look. “Sure, why not.” She shot me an apologetic look before her and her mother disappeared up the stairs.
I returned to my room, mulling over my gifts. A Muggle camera for Drew, a new knitted scarf for my mum and a couple pairs of thick woollen socks for my dad. After all, I was sure that he was doing what he usually did around the holidays -- shoveling snow for elderly neighbors. He needed the socks.
For Oliver, I had put together a folder of notes, hints and general help for Potions. It had taken me a few hours, but I thought it would help him a lot...especially before N.E.W.T’s.
Piper had gotten some pretty new stationary that had pretty butterflies that flapped their wings from time to time, and glitter that actually glittered when in use. I had gotten Claudia a silk handkerchief that matched her eyes. Alex, my oldest and dearest friend, who might have been feeling a bit neglected...well, she got the second most extravagant gift -- a Muggle CD player, since I knew she had been wanting one and it had been on sale in the display window. And being Muggle-born, Alex would definitely know what to do with it and would enjoy it thoroughly.
Fred and George both got some candy and everyone got a pretty Christmas card.
A part of me beamed, even though I had spent almost all of my savings. It was the first time I had ever bought so many gifts. Usually, it was just my parents and Alex.
I prepared my gifts, wrapping them and tying them with colored string before I petted my new, still unnamed owl.
“What should I call you?” I asked it, as it cocked its head to the right and looked curiously at me. “You’re quite adorable though, aren’t you?” It nipped my finger affectionately. “How about Wednesday?” I inquired, watching its reaction. “No?” It gave me another look. “Aella? Ella for short?” The owl gave me a decidedly stern look. “Male then, are you? Bob, then, obviously.”
My owl actually didn’t object to the name Bob.
“Really?” I gave the animal a dead-pan facial expression. “Bob? You really want to be named Bob? How about I just joke and name you Filch? Will you like that?”
Apparently he didn’t object to the name Filch, either.
I thought of Filch, the man who hobbled through the hallways at Hogwarts, always complaining that students were out of bed or torturing his dreadful cat, and shook my head. Filch was a terrible name for an owl.
“I suppose it’s not exactly fair that I get to name you, right? After all, what if you don’t like the name? What right do I have? I should just call you Owl.” My lips quirked themselves into a smile. “Would you mind just being called Owl?”
He hooted, giving his beak a click as though he understood me.
“Ah, well, Owl is better than nothing right?” I reached for Drew’s present and fastened it tightly to Owl’s leg. “Drew Foster, if you would.”
Owl, understanding of my naming dilemma, hooted again before he soared out the window.
I watched him soar out into the darkness, and leaned heavily against the sill The cold breeze slapped my face and I closed the window.
Growing up. Change. I had an owl of my own. I supposed that to some, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but to me, it was a decidedly large step forward in my life. I mean, I could have gotten an owl at any point in my Hogwarts career, but I didn’t.
Why? I thought that if I got an owl, I would be permanently cutting ties with my Muggle roots. That the entirety of my father’s lifestyle would be rejected. I had always associated owls with wizards and witches and magic. By accepting Drew’s present, I was accepting everything associated with this world.
I would be fully enveloped in magic, and there would be no turning back.
My hands curled themselves into fists and I pounded my head in annoyance. Why did we have to grow up? Why did Seventh Year have to come? I looked up past my drawn knees and crinkled my face.
Entering Hogwarts was unreal for me. Something new and frightening. I had adjusted, found my own niche among my books and stayed there. To all of us -- I thought of Piper, Alex, Claudia, Oliver and Isabella -- we had entered Hogwarts with the mindset that we were never going to leave. That Seventh Year was still an intangible thought because it was so far away.
And well, here it was. We were standing on that fine line between childhood and adulthood.
Lucy Wood had jumped early. She had jumped head-first, wholeheartedly. She had been ready to give up her childhood for the adult life of being a mum.
Was I ready?
The face I saw in my reflection was just as conflicted as I felt. Eyes that were still too big for my face, a nose more developed than the rest of me. Some features already mimicked those of adults, while others remained decidedly younger.
Seventh Year. Full of decisions. What we were going to do for the rest of our lives. Some already knew, and others didn’t have a clue.
Were we ready for the outside world?
Was the outside world ready for us?
And with darkening times, what would become of us? Will some of us be lured to Azkaban with lifestyles like Sirius Black’s? Will others join the Aurors and fight?
Or, will they compete for a internship in India like Alex and Alice?
A final thought came to me before I walked away from the window and left the room for a snack.
What happens if we’re not ready to leave Hogwarts?
“HAPPY BLOODY CHRISTMAS!” I was awakened by Claudia. Something that sounded like popping sounds came from my right as I opened my eyes. She was making sparks come out of her wand, and once the sparks fell close to the ground, they exploded with a soft pop. “Aren’t these fake wands wonderful? I got them from Fred and George. You’ve got some, too!”
“Christmas?” I barely had time to say the word before a giant yawn nearly split my head in two. “What time is it?”
“Nine?” Claudia shrugged, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. I’ve been awake since eight, though.”
“Why in the name of bearded Merlin are you waking me up so bloody early?” I wanted to roll over and pull the covers over my head but Claudia wouldn’t let me. She waved the fake wand at me, sending sparks over my head and they popped near my ear.
I sat straight up in bed and glared at her.
“Fred and George are good for something, eh? They’re very generous. I mean, we’re not even very close friends and I got presents from them.”
“They’re very generous.” I mumbled, barely getting the words out of my mouth before another yawn escaped. “They’ve always been very generous. They used to send Alex a load of sweets, but back then, I think Fred was sweet on her. Not anymore, though. Strictly platonic.”
Claudia smiled at me. “Get dressed, silly! Brunch will be at 10. Hurry so you can open presents beforehand!”
Grumbling, I grabbed my things before exiting the room and crossing the hall towards the restroom. The heavy door closed with a click behind me as I surveyed my face in the mirror.
Meh. Nothing new. I tapped the spout with my wand and then aimed it towards my mouth. Suds foamed in my mouth, and as I moved my wand in a brushing motion, I felt an invisible toothbrush gliding and scrubbing over my teeth. My eyes shut. I was tired.
I had done more exploring. Claudia had disappeared mysteriously several times within the last two days.
And I had returned to the library to gaze at the lock of hair and engagement ring. The picture still confused me. The woman was clearly, obviously not Claudia’s mother. Her entire face was shaped differently. Claudia and her mother had sharp, angular features...but this woman. Her face was soft. Small, rounded lips, delicately curling into a gentle smile. Her skin was darker, almond-shaped eyes of the softest brown.
Claudia and her mother were both tall, striking. Stick-like.
This woman was all curves.
Who was she? There was no name, no date on the back of the photo. The lock of hair was wrapped with a white ribbon. Small details that were seemingly insignificant, but at the same time, were so carefully stowed away that I believed them to be cherished items.
Claudia was still in the room when I returned. She was examining a packet of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans and tossed it to me. “Try one?” She swallowed and picked another one out of the palm of her hand. “Ugh.” She said after she had placed it in her mouth. “Grass.”
Did I dare? I popped one in my mouth and was pleasantly surprised when a strawberry flavor caressed my taste buds. “Strawberry!”
“Lucky.” Claudia sighed.
I couldn’t help but glance at Claudia’s brown hair, thinking back to the hidden box. Maybe it was Claudia’s hair? A token hidden away...by whom?
No, it couldn’t be. Claudia’s hair was much lighter. A soft brown that reminded me of a fawn.
And then my attention was drawn away from my friend, and my mouth gaped as I surveyed a small pile of presents near the foot of my bed. “Presents?”
“Of course, silly!” Claudia smiled. “It is Christmas, you know.”
“I...” I was at a lost for words. “There are so many!”
Claudia’s gaze was interested as I fell to my knees and pulled at the one closest to me. Brightly colored wrapping paper flew in the air as I ripped it to pieces, bits of ribbon clinging to bits of tape still.
“That’s from Piper,” Claudia said knowingly, tilting her head to glance at the tag that I had ignored. “I recognize her hand-writing even if I can’t see her name.”
Inside was a crimson velvet cloak. For special occasions the note said in her loopy hand-writing. My fingers ran across the rich material and when I looked up at Claudia, I realized that my mouth was still open.
“Are you alright, Charlotte?”
“Fine, fine,” I shook myself out of the daze. “It’s just...I’ve never...”
Claudia’s smile was gentle and she hopped down to embrace me. “You know, Charlotte, you do have friends who care for you.”
I closed my eyes, taking in the thought.
Friends.
Friends.
We were all friends.
What a thought!
The rest of Christmas was typical. More presents, yule-tide fun and a general air of happiness and ease filled much of the day.
Claudia and I bundled up to have a snow-ball fight in their backyard. Afterwards, we drank our weight in hot chocolate and ate our way through a tin full of biscuits.
The clock said four and Claudia had decided to take a quick nap. I was in the library, once again admiring the box thoughtfully when I heard footsteps. I froze.
A hand on the knob?
In an instant, the box was back where I had discovered it and I found myself hidden behind rich, burgundy colored draperies that were ridiculously heavy. Thankfully, they were long enough to hide my feet, too, and I watched as Claudia’s father entered.
He seemed confused, dazed, almost. His fingers touched the many books that lined the shelves with an expression of unsureness. It was as though he were entering the room for the first time.
Like a blind-man, Mister Gray felt his way around the library. He settled in one of the dusty armchairs and touched the book sitting on the table. He held it up to his face, as if skimming the lines and then put it back down.
He stood up. Sat back down. Stood up. Paced around the library stupidly, as though he had been ignorant of its being there.
I noticed that his blank eyes (which I had thought to be frightening) were beginning to change. A spark seemed to be taking the place of confusion; it was as though puzzle pieces were beginning to click back into his head.
Frustrated at what I presumed to be his own confusion, Mister Gray took his fists and pounded them heavily against his skull. His wand was sticking out of his robes and for a moment, it was though he felt my eyes on him, because he turned towards me, wand outstretched.
I could scarcely breathe.
What was I supposed to do? I wasn’t good at casting inaudible spells and my brain wasn’t working well enough for me to think of one to cast, anyway.
He took three steps towards the draperies before turning away, his face once again puzzled.
When Claudia’s father turned towards the draperies again, I saw that his expression had changed entirely. It was as though a realization was beginning to overcome his confusion. He looked down at his hands, looked at the back of them and at the palms. He glanced at his wand, looking at it as though it weren’t his wand.
“Dear Merlin...” His voice was gruff, heavy. The dark chocolate colored eyes had lost their blank feeling. They were filled with something else. Life. Confusion. Pain.
The wand was out again, held tightly in his hand as he tapped a few of the books. The entire library was moving now, the books shifting their position. He gave the wand a few more waves, muttering this and that before I saw a small crystal bowl being pushed out from behind what I had thought were just novels.
Water? In a bowl? What? Confusion gripped me as I saw his hand reach into the bowl.
But it wasn’t water. I had paid enough attention in my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes that I recognized the liquid. What first appeared to be water was now very obvious when Mister Gray had placed his hand into the bowl.
Instead of scooping up what was in it, the liquid, instead, engulfed him. It swallowed him up, pulling him in.
A Pensieve?
I left my spot from behind the drapes and ran towards the bowl. I knew not to touch the liquid but instead watched from above. Watched as the scene unfolded.
Watched as Mister Gray watched a younger version of himself dancing with the woman in the photograph. I watched them dance and stop and laugh and kiss. They smiled at each other, fingers intertwined.
The memories changed. I saw him proposing. I saw more of them laughing.
And her name, bubbling forward, him mouthing it.
I couldn’t make it out.
The memories were ending.
Confusion jumbled them. Fog surrounded what was supposed to be clear. The older Mister Gray seemed just as confused by the fog. I saw his pained expression change.
Her face took up the majority of the memories. Just her face. Her sleeping. Her smiling. Her laughing. Her staring at him lovingly.
Her. Her. Her. This unnamed woman. His love? His first love?
Fog clouded her image. I heard a name called, but it was jarbled. A hand was reaching out towards hers, their fingers barely touching.
And then nothing.
I saw the memories collapsing on themselves, falling...one after the other like knocked over dominoes.
I resumed hiding behind the curtain and saw Mister Gray return from the Pensieve. He tapped the books again, his mouth once again mumbling as he waved his wand. The Pensieve disappeared and he turned.
He looked disheartened, with tears rolling down his cheeks. The entire room took on an air of sadness and he walked over to the wall, his forehead pressed against the flowered wallpaper before he fell onto his knees, crying.
And then what happened was unexpected.
I had expected him to cry for a bit and then leave. I didn’t think that he would actually reach down towards where the lock of hair was hidden and remove the piece of panel it was hiding behind. Large hands cradled the small box as he opened it. Eyes lingered on the photograph.
His eyes scanned it hungrily, taking in every detail before putting it down. When he touched the lock of hair, it was like everything had crumbled around him. He let out a howl, and sobs broke the silence of the library...
I felt awkward, as though I were intruding on an intimate moment. I closed my eyes and pulled the curtain over my eyes so I wouldn’t be tempted to peek.
Mister Gray continued crying. I heard his sobs and then I heard footsteps approaching the room. He must have heard it too, because I heard shuffling and the sliding of the panel back in place before the library door open again.
“You always seem to find your way back here, don’t you?” The voice was cold, metallic. I managed to get one eye open and pushed the curtain to my left a little, so I could see.
“How could you?” He was saying.
I wanted him to move. I wanted to see who he was talking to.
“I loved her.”
“I wanted you.”
“You ripped us apart.”
“I always get what I want.”
The voice. Cold. So cold. Colder than the chilling wind blowing through the naked tree branches. Icy. It was all business. No heart in it at all.
“You selfish --” He never got to finish what he was going to say.
“Obliviate.”
It was said very matter-of-factly. Almost half-heartedly without any care at all.
Mister Gray jerked to the right. His face was in my line of vision and I saw his eyes return to their blank state. His expression also changed. In a split second, it went from confused, angry and hurt to completely passive. Peaceful. Submissive.
The wand was held towards him again, pointed right at his temple. Something was muttered and a white mist surrounded his body, settling into him. Mister Gray’s eyes closed, his body losing control as he went limp, crumbling towards the ground.
I looked away from the crumpled body towards the owner of the wand. My gaze travelled up the wand, up the wand-owner’s arm and settled, finally, on her face.
Scarlett Gray looked annoyed. Her face was twisted in such a way that she looked quite sinister. Her eyes were cold, her wand-hand still outstretched towards her husband.
She snapped.
With a pop, a house-elf appeared.
“Master Gray is exhausted and has collapsed in the library.” She explained. “He has been working far too much and needs to rest. Please take him to the bedroom.”
I watched as the elf levitated the unconscious man away.
Scarlett Gray rubbed her temples and muttered something in a tone that conveyed her irritation. A few choice words were thrown out.
Anita. Stupid. Ridiculous.
She straightened herself up, patted her golden hair with one hand sighed. She backtracked out of the library.
The door shut heavily and I felt myself release a breath that I hadn’t known I was holding. Relief flooded every being of my body, but panic was still making my heart pound rapidly in my chest. Sweat dotted my brow and I was sure that I might have been sweating through my clothes.
What would have Scarlett Gray done to me if I had been discovered?
More importantly, why was she modifying her husband’s memory?
The fabric of the Gray’s family life had frayed, and was now unraveling. I took hold of the invisible threads and pulled. Memory modification. Money. A facade. An old lover.
I had found myself in the thick of the spider’s web.
Did Claudia know this was going on? Is this why she had been snooping? Pieces were fitting together, slowly, but some things were still lost in the fray.
If I was going to figure this out, I would eventually have to ask Claudia. Who knew what she knew.
Maybe our combined efforts would bring the truth to light.
But I was sure that whatever that truth was, it was not going to end well.
Author's Note: My birthday is tomorrow! (since the queue is in 2 days, you'll probably get this a day or so after my birthday...but still xD) I had a lot of trouble revising this chapter and it's still not quite what I had in mind...but I really wanted to get this out to you. It's my birthday and I wanted to share this story with you all. :)
Christmas was going to be jolly and fun and fluffy! And what did we get? More confusion. Sorry. :( But it had to be like this! If you're confused, stick around. Ten more chapters, I believe. Something like that. It's a flexible number xP keke.
Once again, thank you so much for sticking with this story! I love every single review I get and I read all of them. Sometimes I even reread them. I just want you all to know that you are all SO AMAZING and that I'm blessed and grateful to have readers like you guys. :)
♥
Please, for my birthday, leave me some reviews?
Chapter Twenty-One: Mascot For What You've Become
The holidays were barely over when our final year at Hogwarts really began to get tough. N.E.W.Ts were “approaching” and our professors had seemingly tripled our workload over a week.
The professors thought it was fair to begin preparing for N.E.W.Ts even though they weren’t until June.
It explained why Seventh Years from all houses could be seen crying in hallways or sobbing in lavatories or pulling their hair out in the library.
Drew and I were sitting on a bench in the courtyard. We had been back together for a week, and to be quite honest, things had gotten quite awkward.
He had accepted my Christmas gift with smiles and a thank-you card, but when I had asked him about it at school...he seemed aloof and shrugged off the question with a hug. When I wasn’t inquiring about his gift, though, he seemed to be normal. He asked about my holidays and told me about his. He told me about his crazy uncle Bernard and how he had nearly ruined Christmas dinner with his wacky wand waving.
I told him about Claudia’s manor. About how the snow looked on Christmas morning and how it made me feel. I told him about my family and what had happened to them. I told him that I missed them a lot. In particular, my father.
We held hands and I thought he was listening.
I really did.
But he was fooling me. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine. He nodded as though I had his complete attention. He smiled, made small but vague comments.
I closed my eyes. His voice didn’t reach my ears. His hand suddenly felt very cold in mine.
I let go.
“Are you listening to me?” the words came from my mouth before I could control them.
“Of course.” Drew snapped to attention, pushed his glasses up further the bridge of his nose and met my gaze with determination. “You were just talking about your Muggle father.”
This bothered me. A lot. I felt pinpricks of irritation begin gathering on my skin.
“I never knew that your father was a Muggle.”
“I’ve mentioned it before.” I said, my voice in that awkward place between normal and annoyed. “Why does it matter, anyway?”
“True.” Drew agreed with me, his eyes drifting away from mine and towards the greenhouses. “It doesn’t matter at all. Things like that can easily be hidden away.”
“What do you mean by hidden?” My tone was nonchalant. As if his words didn’t bother me.
“When I run for Minister of Magic,” Drew’s eyes were back on mine. A chill shot through my spine -- I had never noticed how cold Drew’s eyes were until that moment. “When I run for Minister of Magic,” he repeated, “we will have to hide that fact from the public. It will be expunged from the record.”
“And why would that need to be done?”
“Because Magic is Might, Charlotte.” He raised a blond brow at me as if I was daft. “Because people are more likely to vote for a candidate that appeals to them -- someone magical without ties to the Muggle world. It’s been proven time and time again. Magic is Might and they want someone who feels the same way. We don’t want to be held back by someone inferior, you know.”
“No,” my voice had suddenly become very cold and I had twisted my lips into a frown. “No, I don’t know.”
Drew blinked at me. He looked confused. “Charlotte -- are you angry at me?”
The question hung in the air, as if still suspended to a visible talk-balloon hovering over Drew’s head. I stared, my heart thumping in my chest at an unusual pace.
It wasn’t the same thumping as before. It wasn’t butterflies in my stomach or that joyous feeling of liking someone and having them return that affection. It was something else. And it made me sick. I turned my face away from him.
“Drew,” I managed, turning back towards him. “What are your parents?”
“Purebloods.” He said immediately, his eyes focused on me. “Don’t be upset with me, Charlotte.” Drew sounded genuine.
I shook my head. “How can I not be upset? You’ve hit a sore subject for me.”
But he didn’t understand. He misunderstood my discomfort.
Drew wrapped me up in his arms and kissed my cheek. He whispered in my ear. “It’s okay, Charlotte. You don’t have to be ashamed of your Muggle heritage. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”
If this had happened any other day, after any other discussion -- I would have freaked out about his use of love. He loved me. Drew had told me that he loved me.
But all of it was insignificant. I pushed myself out of his grip.
“I think you misunderstood what I’m upset about, Drew.” I could feel myself trembling. Ice-blue eyes penetrated my gaze, digging deep into my soul and pushing heavily against my heart.
His words. What were they supposed to mean? Expunging my father out of my life? I thought about Owl and about how accepting him would meant I was rejecting my father’s way of life. I had chosen, this was true. But did it have to be like this?
Did I have to choose sides? Why couldn’t I embrace both?
“I’ll see you later,” I stood up from the bench and went into the castle, my heart heavy.
I should have been filled with joy. I should have been smiling and beaming and crying with happiness.
But I wasn’t.
Who was this person who claimed to love me? Those cold eyes. Those stark ambitions. This use of the term “we.”
Who was Drew?
The door closed behind me as I made my way back towards Gryffindor Tower. The hall was crowded, but I felt alone. Alone and hurt and not quite sure what everything was about anymore.
Confused. Very confused.
I bumped into Oliver.
His chest collided with my face and we both crashed against the wall, pushed together by the moving crowd. Students walking to and from class, busily chatting or laughing and each pushing the current of movement towards us.
“I’m really sorry, Charlotte.” Oliver was saying. “I was headed towards you but got caught in the current and it pushed me too hard.”
“It’s alright.” I looked up at him, and smiled. “Did you want to talk about Potions?”
“Not really." His face brightened. “Mostly to thank you for the presents!”
I laughed. “You really don’t have to thank me. It’s not that big of a deal. Besides, you got me a present, too. It’s the least I could do.”
Oliver looked pleased. “I’m glad you liked the sweater. We all need some warming up now that it’s gotten colder, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“The potions notes have helped loads, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” His lips twisted themselves into a frown. “I haven’t been doing very well...melting cauldrons and whatnot.”
“Stressed?”
“A little.” Oliver replied. “Okay, more than a little. I’m feeling more than overwhelmed. Everything seems to be coming at me from all sides -- Snape’s breathing down my neck with every assignment and potions lab we do...McGonagall has assigned more than two-hundred pages of reading...Isabella’s giving me grief about not paying her enough attention and to top it all off: Quidditch. I’ve been trying to focus on it but I just don’t have time. It’s driving me mad. I’ve been trying to draw up some plays, but all I’ve managed to come up with is rubbish. I’m afraid that we might have to give up the Cup.” He sounded sad. “And of course, besides the Cup, we have scouts coming to recruit players to the big leagues! It’s a big deal...”
“I’m sorry.” I bowed my head, unsure of what to say. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You just have to manage your time better, right? Quidditch, homework...scouts.”
“I just don’t want to let anyone down.” Oliver nodded. “I really need to get scouted -- and how can I stand out when I haven’t led Gryffindor to victory yet?”
“I suppose the only thing I can really say...” I said, softly, “is that you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you, Oliver. Make it or break it?”
“Yes, yes,” he tutted. “Anyways, thanks again!” Oliver smiled. “For the Potions notes and for the quills.” He patted his book-bag and managed to worm his way back into the flow of students.
I watched him leave, almost a full head taller than most of the students. His grin was still in my head, the warmth of his hand burning through my cloak.
I watched him walk away with a strange feeling. I decided it was annoyance and worry over Drew, brushed it off and continued on my way towards Gryffindor tower.
“Don’t be upset,” Alex was running a hand through my hair. We were lying on the sofa in front of the fire in the common room. I had my head in her lap and she was combing my hair with her fingers. She caught a snag and I cringed. “Maybe he was a true prick all along.”
“It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.” I muttered. “He wasn’t supposed to be like that.”
“His true colors...” Alex said sympathetically, but also absentmindedly. We had been sitting like this for an hour and had barely conversed at all.
“Alex?” I lifted my head a little and looked her full in the face.
“Mmm?” she smiled.
“Have you noticed something?”
Alex’s eyes lingered on mine for a moment. “Noticed what?”
“This.” I motioned to the metaphorical gap between us. “We seem oceans apart and we’re sitting right here.”
Her lips pursed, as though she were annoyed, and she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lotty.” She threw out my nickname as though it were a casual situation -- but it just didn’t feel right.
“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”
Alex’s features softened. “I guess we have.” She sighed. “It just to be easy when it was just you and me...and now we have Piper and Claudia and this Isabella thing that isn’t quite a thing anymore because she hasn’t done anything to us in a long while and now this Drew situation...” Alex sighed again. “It just isn’t the same.”
“It isn’t.” I nodded. “We’ve been through so much this year -- more than I ever thought I would have to go through. It was nice, you know, being amongst my books...just Charlotte and Alex and that particular corner of the common room.” I pointed to our familiar corner, where we whispered complaints about homework and professors and Alex had cursed her ex-boyfriends. “But I think about this,” I felt my lips curling up. I thought about Claudia and Piper and shook my head. “I think about the people I’ve met -- the people that I should have met much earlier -- and I can’t help but feel a little happy, you know?”
Alex smiled crookedly. “Quite an adventure for you, Miss Charlotte Murray. I never thought I’d hear that you were glad to meet so many people.”
“I didn’t just meet them, Alex.” I said, a little breathlessly, a little excited. “I became friends with them. All this time, these six years, I’ve just sat idly by and watch you make your friends -- the Weasley twins, random blokes on the Quidditch team...some girls in your Diviniation class...I was jealous, but then I wasn’t that jealous because you’d always come back to me.”
She nodded.
“And now it’s like we’ve drifted apart.”
Alex shook her head. “We’ll always come back together. It’s supposed to be like this. We’re supposed to be like this. We’ll always come back in the end...”
We were silent for a little bit longer. Alex was smiling, and resumed combing her long fingers through my hair.
“How was Christmas with Claudia? I feel like we’ve barely touched on this subject and I’m dying to know how you managed without me.” A mischievous grin tugged at Alex’s lips; a familiar sight that brought a smile onto my own face.
“It was fun, actually.” I said, thoughtfully. “Claudia is more than meets the eye.”
“Definitely.” Alex agreed. “Piper said she had a rubbish holiday, though. Her great-aunts are sick and ordered her back home so she went back and spent all of the holidays catering to them.”
“Sounds unfortunate.”
“It is,” Alex sighed. “She’s expendable to her great-aunt’s and well, it’s hard when you’re one of ten potential benefactors of their death.”
“I feel like we’re always complaining about how our families are this or that, but when it comes down to it -- we all have weird families that don’t quite make sense, huh?”
“Yup.” Alex sighed. “Muggle parents who still don’t understand my magical abilities.”
“Don’t forget the growing stigma attached to a Muggle-parent.” I sighed. This conversation had drifted back towards back to the topic I had been thinking about all day.
“Do you resent your dad, Lotty?” Alex inquired.
“Of course not...”
“Then you shouldn’t be bothered by what everyone else says.” She said sternly. “Who cares if Drew doesn’t approve or whatever...it’s your family and as long as you love them and don’t mind...forget everyone else.”
“That’s true.” I mumbled, “It’s just quite unsettling.”
“I bet.” Alex sighed. “It’s these changing times, you know. Everyone doesn’t want to talk about it, but you can tell. The whispers in the corridors and panicked looks whenever that Harry Potter boy walks around. Times are darkening.”
I looked up at her and I knew that she was saying what had been on her mind for weeks.
“The stigma that was once just that, merely a word and a sentiment attached to being Muggle-born and now it’s something much worse. It’s more than a label, more than it was before...”
“What is it now?”
“A way to say I’m different from them.” Alex turned her eyes away to gaze at the wall.
The hallways were empty.
Compared to the swarming of students earlier, it was a startling sight. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to empty hallways -- Hogwarts had her fair share of them...I can’t explain it. The sight sent chills down my spine.
I pulled my Gryffindor scarf tighter around my neck and hurried down the hallway, my footsteps echoing loudly. The shadows seemed longer, the candlelight's glow no match for the stretch of dark hallway.
“Lumos.” I said, my breath white in the air.
The sun set earlier now, and the cold was nearly unbearable at times. The library was close, though; I had travelled this corridor enough to know.
The lights were dim inside, but I knew there would be a number of students huddled in corners, their wands lit, reading for exams.
The creak of the door caused several heads to turn and stare at me as I made my way past them, trying to find Oliver.
I found him towards the back of the room, the light of the lamp illuminating his strong features. His brow was furrowed, his eyes scanning the book before him as his left hand gripped the quill tightly. Immediately, I noticed that it was one of the quills I had given him for Christmas – Claudia had somehow talked me into re-gifting and it seemed a good idea. Oliver was using all of them, and willingly, too.
“How long have you been here?” I shivered into the seat.
“Not too long.” Oliver glanced up at me and flashed a glance at his watch. “Maybe forty-five minutes?” His gaze returned to the book, the quill scratching away in the parchment notebook.
“Sorry,” I replied, pulling open my bag and pulling out my books and notebooks. “Lost track of time. Decided to take an impromptu nap and didn't wake up until Alex shook me awake.”
“We're all exhausted.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It's really alright.”
“Do you have any questions?” I scanned over the review questions Snape had hesitantly given the class. And when I say hesitantly, I mean he was truly hesitant. He hovered over the pieces of parchment, his pale hand tightly clamped over them, as though unwilling to give them out. “Anything I can help with?”
“I'm managing alright, actually.” Oliver replied. “It's not too difficult to understand the concepts, but rather, much harder to execute them.”
“Yes, you're right.” I nodded. “On paper, the ideas seem insignificant...non-threatening, but once you're standing in front of your cauldron with time ticking and a list of things to do...things seem much more daunting.”
Oliver looked up quickly. A fleeting look of respect. “You always seem to do well.”
“I do alright.”
“You were never modest before.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes remained on the textbook.
A blush came to my cheeks. I tried to hide it but Oliver looked up again, his eyes shining from the light of the lamp.
“Flushing? You're brilliant, Charlotte, and you know it. Why the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, I'll never understand.” Oliver stretched, leaning back against the chair until I heard the crack of his bones.
“Would I be more suited to Ravenclaw?” My eyes were on my textbook, but I wasn't reading. “Many people have expressed that thought, you know...”
Oliver seemed surprised. “Would you rather be a Ravenclaw, Charlotte? I had always thought, even though we had never talked much before, that you liked being a Gryffindor...” I looked up and for a brief moment, our eyes met. Oliver cleared his throat gruffly. “I mean, you wear the scarf with such pride.” He fingered the end of my Gryffindor scarf briefly before turning his attention back to his notes awkwardly.
“Ravenclaw House...” I thought of the various descriptions of the houses. “Wit and learning.” Mulling the thought over in my head, I picked at the end of my quill. “Ravenclaws famous for being intelligent, creative, resourceful, clever, knowledgeable in all things and witty.”
“You are almost all of those things.” Oliver said, adding his two cents.
“They are also smug, however.” I nodded. “Overly smug at times. Blinded by their own brilliance to the point of arrogance.” I eyed Oliver. “Are you implying that I am blinded by my own brilliance to the point of being overly arrogant?”
My teasing tone was noted, but Oliver answered seriously, truthfully. “At times, you may be.” He countered quickly. “But Gryffindors are often arrogant, as well, so we are all at times persuaded to believe ourselves better than we actually are.”
“Ravenclaws are notoriously exclusive, too.” I patted the end of quill on the edge of Oliver's nose.
“We can all be exclusive.” Oliver said nicely.
I chuckled a bit. “Aren't you playing a bit too nice, considering Quidditch?”
Oliver laughed, too. “In that case, there is no better house than Gryffindor. We are the best. We dominate. We are the coolest, the most important and the smartest house at Hogwarts.”
“Arrogance, at its best.”
Our eyes met again, his half-moon eyes (shaped because he was still laughing) meeting mine and sending electric bolts shooting up my spine.
I could feel my face getting warm again, which was strange because it was a particularly cold night.
“The library isn't heated, is it?” I said spontaneously, a bit loudly.
“I dunno, actually.” Oliver looked around. “That thought has never crossed my mind.”
I turned my attention away from him and focused on something else, anything else.
“It's probably heated...” I brushed my bangs out of the way, and put my hands on my cheeks. They were hot to the touch and probably as red as tomatoes. “I'm very warm.”
“Hope you're not getting sick, Charlotte.” Oliver put his hand over my forehead. “You're awfully warm.”
I sound escaped my mouth that sounded like half a hiccup and half a laugh. “Must be the library. It must be heated.”
Oliver looked worried. “Maybe you are getting sick.”
Yes, yes. Sick. That must be it. I must have caught a cold.
Author's Note: I've run out of excuses. All I can say is that real life takes a lot of effort and time and that this chapter has about eight versions. I'm being completely serious. I have 8 versions of this saved and there was massive editing because I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with this but I hope you're liking the progression of Oliver and Charlotte into something more...even if it IS a slow progression. D:
Anyways, I hope you'll forgive me enough to enjoy the chapter. Leave your thoughts. They're lovely! :D
♥
Chapter 22: Something's Made Your Eyes Go Cold
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Chapter Twenty-Two: Something's Made Your Eyes Go Cold
“Are you feeling alright?” The next couple days were a blur. With the chaos of classes, homework and dealing with the growing distance I had decided to place on Drew, my body seemed to be shutting down on me.
Piper was staring me in the face. She waved a pale hand in front of me, hoping to catch my attention.
“You don't look too well, Lotty.” Alex was there, too. She worriedly stared at me from her place in the corner of the Common Room, where she was reading for Transfiguration. “Are you getting sick?”
“Sick?” I laughed, waving off Piper's hand. “I never get sick!” I took a sharp inhale and felt my nose squish with sudden tension.
Piper's hand was on my forehead as she pushed me back against the sofa. “You're really warm.” Her tone was worried. “And your face is really flushed.”
“I'm blushing is all.” I tried to stand up. “Besides, I really have to get to the library. Oliver's waiting for me.”
“No, no,” Alex had stood up and made her way towards me. The Fourth Years parted like the Red Sea as she threw herself on a cushion. “You barely ate anything all day. You nibbled your toast and daintily sipped your orange juice before running off to Charms this morning. And then you tasted your sandwich and barely touched your orange juice before running off to Double Potions this afternoon...and at dinner, you squished your potatoes around on your plate and even when Claudia summoned you some orange juice, you didn't drink it.”
“I'm just not hungry today. Is that a crime?” I blinked at my two friends. “Can I just not...be hungry.”
“It's not a crime, no.” Piper said. “But you adore orange juice. You drink gallons of the stuff all day. You ask for it at every meal or try to get it in-between meals. I saw you bribe Fred and George to sneak into the kitchens once to get you a pitcher full of the stuff.”
“Your point?”
“You turned it down today! You never turn down orange juice! What's the matter, Charlotte?”
“I think she's overworking herself, personally.” Alex said decisively, pinning me down by the arms. “Besides, we had Herbology tonight and it's been pouring rain since this morning. The weather's been just awful and you've been staying up too late helping Oliver and working on your own things...you need time to just sleep.”
“Sleep is for the weak!” I declared, trying to wrestle my way out of her grip. “And I don't get sick! You know it. How many times have I been sick in the seven years that you've known me, Alex?”
“Once.” Alex said seriously, considering my words. “But that was because you were exposed to Stanley Clammer's failed Potions/Charms experiment and was sneezing out bees every couple minutes or so.”
“Exactly.” I twitched my nose again and stood up. “I'm late for an appointment, and I'm never late.” I glanced at the clock and sighed.
“There's firsts for everything.” Piper said seriously as I gathered my things and had one foot out of the portrait hole. “You're never late, yet you're late today...”
“You're never sick...” Alex chimed as I put the rest of my body through. “Yet, you're getting sick...”
I shook my head as I made my way quickly through the hallway.
It was true that I wasn't feeling like my usual self, but I just blamed it on stress or indigestion or something because there was no way that I was getting sick.
No. Bloody. Way.
I sniffled a bit as a rush of cold air hit my lungs. Honestly, Hogwarts felt much colder this year than the last. At least last year's snow was fun and fluffy, not this icy cold stuff that turned to slush and still allowed the rain to pour down because it wasn't cold enough to freeze it.
Nope. This year's weather had gone bonkers and I couldn't understand why.
Pulling my cloak closer to my body, I quickened my pace and power-walked to the library, barely making it to Oliver before the clock said 9.
“I'm late, I'm aware.” I shivered into the seat.
“You're allowed to be late, you know,” Oliver commented, his eyes not leaving his homework. “And I haven't really had any questions so you're free for the moment.”
“I'm just..never late.” I sighed. “Today's just not my day.”
“I know what you mean.” Oliver finally looked up. He put down his quill, leaned back and ran both of his hands through his hair, looking stressed. “Today has been bloody awful.” Oliver's sigh echoed. “Isabella's furious with me. She can't understand why I spend more time in the library than with her and I've tried to explain to her what has been going on but she won't even hear it. It's bloody frustrating.” He ran another hand through his hair, causing it to stand up on end.
My body was shivering but I fought hard to keep still. “Sounds awful.”
“It has been pretty bloody awful.” Oliver admitted. “And it's becoming a trend. I do something wrong and Isabella completely blows it out of proportion. I don't mean to be such an inattentive boyfriend but I have obligations to my family that I need to fulfill first. I can't just throw away all my ambitions for her, you know? I just...can't.”
“Your family would understand if you didn't get scouted or drafted or whatever it is that happens for professional Quidditch.” I tried to say. “They'd love you nonetheless.”
“But I owe it to them, Charlotte. I owe it to my mum who has given up everything for Lucy and I. She worked as a laundress for awhile, washing our neighbor's clothes and sheets in order to be able to watch us because Lucy wasn't old enough to be at home with me by herself yet. And when Lucy was a bit older, Mum was able to get work as a seamstress. The Muggles couldn't figure out how she got such tiny stitches...” He smiled proudly. “And then Lucy went to Hogwarts and then Mum did her mending and sewing and dress-making at home in order to watch me for a bit more. Lucy came home for vacations but then in her Fifth Year she met Matthias and everything just went downhill from there...”
Oliver looked up at the ceiling, his face serious.
“Lucy thought she could save us if she married Matthias, because well, she loved him and she thought he returned her feelings. He went off to play Quidditch and left her a few years later...but not after dragging her through absolute mud. There was a scandal with him and a younger woman, and just...various nonsense and...well...it's been ridiculous. It was only a little more than a year ago that she came home, sat us all down and told Mum and I that she was going to have a baby. Her and Matthias had been finished for about four months so it came as a complete shock...”
“But you love Callum.”
“We adore Callum. He is our brightest star.” Oliver smiled. “Dad used to be our brightest star...and when he was gone...I tried to be it for my family...but I could never quite fill those shoes, you know?”
Oliver sighed again. “I owe it to my family. I have to take care of them and as much as it hurts me to neglect Isabella...I have to work hard.”
“I don't think you're neglecting her at all.” I said truthfully. “She should understand. Maybe she's the one being a bad girlfriend.”
Oliver looked like he wanted to defend her, but at the same time, he understood that I was only speaking from an “objective” point of view.
“It's awful.” He confided in me. “Sometimes I really loathe Isabella.” He looked awkward and pained. “I loathe her because she makes me feel like a terrible person. She makes me feel like I'm a toad because I'm not doing enough but I've tried so hard to please her...” Oliver's hands curled up into fists. “Maybe I just don't deserve to be loved. Maybe I'm doing everything wrong. It doesn't matter. I can be alone. I can be unloved. I just need to get my act together and somehow get scouted. I have to. I must...for the sake of Callum and Lucy and my mum...”
Everything was boiling over for Oliver. All the tensions that he had been hiding beneath and easy grin and a laid-back manner was spilling over. All his thoughts, his feelings – all the things he had been so readily hiding from his team and his friends and his girlfriend were now exposed, spilling onto the floor in front of me.
“Ugh, I'm sorry to unload on you, Charlotte. I can't help it when you're around, I dunno why.” Oliver gave me another pained look, his eyes looking distressingly bleak. “But thank you for listening and not judging me.”
“You'll be alright.” I managed, my head feeling light as I tried to process his face before me. “Everything will be alright. That's what Alex always tells me when I worry --” I stopped myself for a moment to catch my breath. My chest was feeling tight and my throat itched horribly. I coughed, trying to rid myself of the itch and gripped the table, my body racked with coughing. “You'll – cough – be – cough- fine. – cough – I – cough – promise.”
“Charlotte?” Oliver's voice seemed far away even though he was right in front of me.
Tunnel-vision narrowed my point of view and I felt myself reaching for the table again and I was unsure when I had let go of it in the first place. Black and white dots exploded across my vision as my hearing faded.
I heard Oliver call my name again before darkness consumed everything.
It was cold. Very cold. But it wasn't cold for long. I felt a warmth spreading from my toes, traveling along each toe delicately and carefully before spreading across my ankles and my calves and eventually spreading to the top of my head where it cascaded down again...ripples of warmth that sent tremors through my fingers.
Slowly I could make out voices. Murmured voices that were jumbled. Deep voices mixed with high ones and they were just jabbering and jabbering and jabbering and I longed for quiet. For peace for a bit.
And then it was too quiet. I felt alone and frightened. The warm feeling was gone. There was a metallic taste in my mouth.
Open your eyes, Charlotte... my brain seemed to be saying to me.
I'm trying!
Open your eyes, Charlotte!
I'M TRYING.
OPEN YOUR BLOODY EYES, CHARLOTTE!
Light flooded into my eyes. I felt my pupils shrinking back in irritation. I gasped for air, my hands moved to grab something. There was a stampede of feet as sound suddenly burst into my eardrums, sending me reeling.
“You're just a drama queen, aren't you?” Alex was the first thing I recognized. Her face, oddly familiar and yet oddly new, took up the entirety of my vision. She was pushed aside by Piper who threw herself at me.
“We said you were overworking yourself!”
Piper's face took up my whole vision but was replaced by Claudia, who just smiled gently at me, tucked some hair behind my ear and said, “It's good to have you back, Charlotte.”
The Weasley twins were hovering awkwardly to my right, unsure of what to say yet looking pleased that I was awake.
“W-Where am I?” The cliched question escaped from my lips before I could really think.
“The hospital wing, silly,” George said, coming closer timidly. “Oliver carried you here after you blacked out.”
“What? I blacked out?”
“Exhaustion.” Madam Pomfrey bustled through the group and looked at me pointedly. “You're lucky, Miss Murray, that you have friends who have refused to leave your side. You are looking much better, though.” She gestured for me to come closer and shoved a spoon full of bitter liquid into my mouth. “You'll be completely well once you've rested and have taken the proper medicines.”
“You were running a high fever and your body just couldn't take all the strain.” Alex sighed, smoothing my sheets worriedly, clucking like a mother hen. “You should've just stayed.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're not.” Alex's voice was stern. “Serious bed rest, Charlotte. I know it's not a big deal that you're sick since most people are often sick, but the fact that you passed out scares the hell out of me.”
“Oliver carried me?” I inquired, looking at their tired faces. “From the library?”
“Yep.” Fred spoke up now, leaning closer like his brother George. “Carried you in a princess hold all the way to the library. He was quite spooked and a little bit frantic.”
“He came running into the Common Room like a lunatic,” Piper said, thinking back on the event. “He was raging like a madman about how you had fainted and were in the hospital wing.”
“Oliver panicked like I had never seen him panic.” Fred said. “Oliver usually keeps his cool. I mean, there have been times that he freaks out on the Quidditch pitch but that's usually when we do stupid things that allow the other team to take the quaffle.”
“He could have levitated me.” I said, looking sheepish. “He didn't have to carry me...”
“He stayed for a bit but then he had to rush off because Isabella was irritated...as per usual.” Piper rolled her eyes. “She seems to be more and more controlling every time I see her.”
“We've been lucky, remember that.” Claudia said seriously. “She bites, remember?”
“And we were supposeddddd to bite back.” Was Piper's pointed reply.
“We will.” Alex said. “Before the year's out. We will.”
I looked at Claudia, who's face had changed significantly. She pursed her lips in that manner of hers, eyes turned away, looking at something else. “I'm going back to Gryffindor tower.” She turned back to me. “Feel better, Charlotte. You'll be healthy in no time.”
I waved goodbye to her, settling comfortably against two fluffy pillows. The blankets were tucked under my arms, warming me considerably. “I hope Oliver didn't get too much trouble from Isabella.” I sighed. “He was just trying to do the right thing.”
“But you've got a point.” Piper stated, hand on chin, stroking it in almost a philosophical manner. “Oliver didn't have to carry you. He could have just levitated you just as easily. It would have saved him a lot more trouble.”
“Maybe he just panicked.” I suggested, defending his honor. “And this was the only thing he could really think of at the time?”
“Is he a wizard or isn't he?” Piper's lifted brow suggested something else, but I ignored the suggestion and shifted a bit in the hospital bed.
We continued talking about the things I had missed. I had been out for the entirety of the previous night, and had even missed two of my classes, but my friends insisted that I take a few days off to focus entirely on recovering.
“But I'll be so bored.” I argued. “What will I do? Just sit here in the wing and do nothing?”
“Sleep!” Alex argued. “You don't need the added stress of catching up on homework.”
“Just bring the papers to me.” I demanded, if not a little childishly. “Then I won't be stressed because I'm behind in my classes.”
“Fine.” Alex acquiesced to my demands, lifting her palms up in surrender. “Herbology homework will be brought to you, your highness.”
I stuck my tongue out at her and she smiled at me.
“We'll be off, then, Charlotte.” Alex sighed. “Classes are calling to us. I can't believe these professors are going all batty and assigning such ridiculous things.”
“We'll visit soon.” said Piper with a grin.
They left me at peace. Madam Pomfrey had given me something to make me sleepy, and I had slept peacefully until dinner time. Then Madam Pomfrey came around again and gave me another dose of bitter medicine, clucked about how I had kicked off the blankets in my sleep and pulled them to my chin.
I had twiddled my thumbs resignedly for ten minutes when the hospital wing doors opened and I saw Oliver striding in. He looked happy to see me, his lips upturned in a wide smile.
“You're alright!”
I beamed. “Of course! I'm rarely sick.”
“And when you are, you are most dramatic!” He sat down next to me and clasped his hands together. Oliver looked closely at my face, his eyes examining my features thoughtfully.
“I resent that.”
“I'm sure you do.” He laughed. “You caused quite the stir.”
“You're the one who panicked.”
His cheeks reddened. “It was startling to say the least. One moment you were talking and the next moment you were falling out of your chair.”
I could only smile as he stammered out the last bit.
“Damn the Weasley twins.” Oliver sighed, shaking his head. “A bloke falters once and it's front page news.”
“I'm sure most blokes would have panicked.”
“No,” Oliver shook his head. “I think Drew would have kept his cool and would have known exactly what to do.”
At the mention of Drew, my own face flushed. Embarrassed, because I had been avoiding him.
“You acted accordingly.”
Oliver beamed. “You know, you're being awfully gracious.” He raised an eyebrow. “Any particular reasons?”
“It's the sickness.” I said seriously, my face close to his. “It makes me turn into a normal human being.”
“I think you were always a normal human being.” Oliver murmured.
“So I'm just unusually stingy on compliments?”
“Yes.”
I took a sharp inhale. His face had gotten closer and closer until he was gazing into my eyes so sincerely that I wanted to weep.
Okay, that's a dramatization. I didn't actually want to weep, but it made me oddly anxious.
Oliver seemed to also realize the closeness of his face to mine and pulled away. He cleared his throat, face pink and looked towards the ceiling of the hospital wing.
“Thank you.” I recognized the awkwardness that had silenced the easy conversation. “Thank you, Oliver. You brought me here and you really shouldn't worry – I've just got a slight cold and I will be fine in the morning.”
His gaze lifted from the ceiling and floated back onto my face.
I reached for his tan hand and held it in mine.
“Thank you,” I said again, the most sincere I have ever been in my life.
Oliver's pink face will forever be burned onto my brain. His smile, forever sealed within my memory banks.
To someone else, the fact that someone cared enough about them to take them to the hospital wing when they were sick might not be a big deal. But to me, it was. I had lived the whole six years at Hogwarts thinking that I would never be significant to someone and that fear drove me away from people.
Even with Alex by my side, I doubted the sincerity of others. I doubted that I could ever let my guard down around them.
Oliver, with this one swift action, had proved me and all of my negative, pessimistic thoughts wrong.
“You're welcome.” He put his other hand on top of mine.
I smiled, too. The widest smile I have ever given anyone.
Our moment ended when I heard the hospital wing doors swing shut. The echoing of footsteps could be heard as Oliver pulled his hand away from mine.
Looming, Drew's face appeared over Oliver's shoulder. His brows were knitted with what I assumed was worry.
“You're in the hospital wing?” He asked the air, as if it were a rhetorical question.
“Yes.” I said, avoiding his face. Oliver cleared his throat awkwardly.
“This would explain why you weren't in Arthimancy,” Drew said thoughtfully, as Oliver stood up from the chair at my side. Drew took his place and moved to hold my hand.
I let him.
“I thought you had been avoiding me. I'm glad to know you're only a little under the weather.”
Oliver's face flushed for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “I think that if Charlotte was only a little under the weather, she wouldn't be in the hospital wing...” And then he began backtracking towards the door. “I'll see you later. I'm glad you're feeling better, Charlotte.” He turned completely around and within a few steps, was out the swinging doors and into the corridor.
Drew brushed off Oliver's comment and smiled at me. I used to think that his smile was charming; a mystery wrapped up in honesty and brilliance – now, I saw only bigotry and the fulfillment of his apparent destiny. What was once beautiful, was now manipulative, and I didn't know what I felt anymore.
“This whole time, I was worried, you know?” Drew was chatting away, as if nothing strange had happened or that we had been alright this whole time. “I kept thinking to myself – why on earth would Charlotte be avoiding me? We haven't really had any scruples...”
Exhausted, I closed my eyes for a brief moment, allowing my hand to fall from his grip.
“Charlotte?” He broke his chatter and peered at me. “Are you listening to me?”
It was always about him, wasn't it? He was so set in his ways. So absolutely sure that his way was the right way. What was that thing he had said before? Magic was Might?
“I'm not listening.”
I don't know what possessed me to be so honest. Maybe it was the sickness. Maybe I had just gotten tired of the entire thing.
Sick of Drew deciding that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. Sick of my mother pushing me towards the Ministry. Sick of everyone's comments. Everyone's two sickles. Everyone had something to say and I just didn't want to listen anymore.
“I'm not listening, Drew.” I repeated, apparently interrupting another one of his monologues.
Drew was never one for soliloquies. He'd rather talk at people. Half a dialogue because the other person would never be able to chime in. Because the other person was never allowed to disagree with him.
His eyes narrowed as our eyes focused on each other. He reached for my hand again, as if to reassure himself of us.
“I'm tired, Drew.” I told him, another one of my half-truths because I could never bear pushing away something I had longed for for so long.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Drew looked apologetic. It would have passed for sincere except for his eyes. Those exceptional eyes. Cold and calculating and utterly brilliant – but overwhelming. I drowned in those eyes. “Maybe I should leave you to your rest.”
I closed my eyes again.
“I do hope you get well.”
I nodded.
“I care about you.”
I nodded again.
“I love you.”
My eyes opened again, surveying Drew's retreating back.
You mean, you love the idea of me...
Author's Note: Slowly...slowly...cranking out updates. I can do this! I can finish this story! It's the first thing on my new year's resolution. :P Don't judge!
Anyways. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Reviews always make me happy! What's going to happen next? I guess we'll just have to seeeee...kekeke :)
♥
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Only Sound is a Minute Left
Quidditch made everyone insane.
Gryffindors were running around the Great Hall, maroon cloaks billowing out behind their fast-paced bodies. They had their faces painted gold, cheeks emblazoned with an image of a roaring lion.
“GO! GO! GRYFFINDOR!” They roared, their hands clapping together as they circled around again.
One of the guys lifted up his shirt, and we could see Oliver's face painted on his stomach. He paused in front of Oliver, and whooped. I could see Oliver from where I was sitting. Isabella clung to his arm, but he paid no attention to her. Oliver also barely paid any attention to the guy that had painted the image of the keeper's face on his abs.
Isabella seemed annoyed, but did not leave his side. His lips were forming words, but he didn't seem to be talking to anyone. The parchment flattened out on the Gryffindor table was full of scribbles and loops, apparently signaling the match's plans.
“Are you going to the match today?” Alex's hair was half crimson and half gold. The Gryffindor scarf was wound tightly around her neck, and the proud Gryffindor lion stuffed animal sat comfortably in her hands.
“Why is everyone so excited about this particular game?” I inquired.
“If we beat Ravenclaw, we're going against Slytherin in the Finals!” Piper exclaimed. Her face was also painted, but her hair was its normal color. “You should go! It'll be loads of fun.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I...I have my interview, remember?” I swallowed my toast, but it was painful. It scratched my esophagus all the way down. I coughed a bit.
“Ah.” Alex nodded. “I had nearly forgotten. Are you nervous?”
“Of course not. Don't be silly.” I rubbed my hands together.
“Lotty, I've known you for six years. I think I know a nervous tick when I see one.” She pointed to my hands. I had stopped rubbing them together and was now toying my fingers against each other.
“Good luck.” Piper grinned at me. “I know you'll be excellent.”
“Thanks..” I exhaled.
“Does Drew know that you've got an interview today?” I hadn't told any of them about my problems with Drew, but Alex knew me well enough to have picked up on it already.
“No.” I shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. “He's busy with his own things. I didn't want to burden him with this.”
“And why would it be a burden?” Piper asked, eyebrow raised. “Shouldn't he be cheering for you? Or something...”
“Or nothing,” I replied. “Where's Claudia?” I quickly changed the topic to something else. I looked around the Great Hall for the familiar aura of our friend.
“Breaking up with Theo.” Piper grimaced. “Poor felow.”
“Why?”
“He's boring,” Piper explained. “Boring, boring, booooringgg. Compared to that asshole Barrett, Theo's like a little boy.”
“That doesn't make any sense to me.” I stared at them, dumbfounded. “She doesn't like Barrett, though. Doesn't she loathe him?”
“He was her first love, though,” Piper responded. “Going from Barrett to Theo is like going from drinking wine to drinking water. Less tasty, less exciting.”
“I don't think your example is very clear.” Alex said critically, eyeing Piper. “Lotty, what she's trying to say is that Theo and Claudia don't have any chemistry together. There isn't that spark that makes it feel right, do you know what I'm talking about?”
“A spark?” I inquired, feeling my brows beginning to lift in question.
“A spark,” Claudia affirmed. “Chemistry. Like when you kiss someone and your stomach flip-flops, your heart flutters and you feel like it's just...right.”
I stared at them, my mind now racing. Did I have a spark with Drew? I thought back to our kiss. The feeling of warmth within me. There was a brief fluttering of my heart, but that was because I was nervous. Nervous to disappoint him. I didn't want to be a disappointment. I wanted him to think I was worthy of him – and now, in my current situation, I felt foolish.
“When Claudia kissed Theo, she said it was almost as though she were kissing a friend. There wasn't any sort of feeling in it.”
“They were together awhile, though,” Piper sighed.
“Sparks,” I murmured, my eyes focused on a red apple. “Chemistry?”
“Lotty?” Alex waved her hand in front of my face. “Are you alright?”
“Contemplating,” I replied. “The example you've given me for chemistry...could you clarify any more?”
“Sure, I suppose so.” Alex scratched her head and thought hard. “When you read fairytales...you know how the princess always knows that the prince is the one.”
“The one...?”
“Her soul mate,” Alex continued. “The person she's supposed to be with.”
“Yes. I'm following.”
“When she's with him...it feels right. She feels at ease. Her heart flutters and her face flushes and she's completely happy because she knows that no matter what happens, he will love her forever.”
“You sound like a true romantic,” I commented.
“Maybe I am.” Alex grinned.
“Never thought I'd take you for one,” I laughed. “But I guess you are.”
“Why are you asking about sparks, Charlotte?” Piper asked. “Don't you get the butterflies when you see Drew?”
“Yeah,” I said flatly. “What about it?”
“Charlotte...are you in love with someone else?”
“Ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “Impossible. When do I have time to fall for someone else? I'm still with Drew, too, so wouldn't that be cheating on him?”
“Emotionally,” Piper commented, leaning forward casually, “you are cheating on him if you love someone else right now.”
I laughed. “Ridiculous.” I repeated. “Anyways, I'm going back to the room to get ready for my interview. Have fun at the match.”
“Boo,” Alex said. “You are absolutely no fun whatsoever.”
Standing up, I gazed nonchalantly down the Gryffindor table and realized that Oliver had gotten up and left, leaving Isabella sitting by herself, sulking.
“Leaving already?” The Weasley twins appeared on either side of me, dressed in their Quidditch best. “Aren't you going to come watch us play today?”
“Can't,” I apologized. “I've got a job interview today.”
They made identical sad faces as I turned to leave. Pushing through the double doors of the Great Hall, I saw Theo leaning against a wall. He looked upset, but not too upset. He shook his head for a bit before stepping in front of me, descending the steps towards the kitchens and the Hufflepuff Common Room.
Claudia was outside. She smiled when she saw me. “I've just ended it with Theo.” Her voice was matter of fact.
“I would ask why, but you probably wouldn't tell me.”
“He was too nice.” Claudia cocked her head to the left and gazed at the wet grass. The frost had melted a bit, leaving the blades of grass heavy with liquid. “The weather's been strange, huh?” She held a hand out and pulled it back. “Do you think it has anything to do with the Dementors?”
“Probably.” I pulled up to her side. “Cold, but not quite cold enough for the usual amount of snow.”
“Stormy,” she said, “but not stormy at the same time. What a strange year.” And then she patted me on the arm. “Theo was a nice boy.” Claudia changed the subject back to her last boyfriend. “But I'm not a nice girl.” Deftly, Claudia shook out her sleeve and revealed her wand. “I saw Drew walk past a couple minutes ago.” She waved her wand around herself, and sighed. “Much better. It was too cold to be going out to a Quidditch match, but I think I can bear it a little better now.”
I watched her slowly meander towards the Quidditch pitch. I followed the outside corridor until I was forced to go back inside. The door closed heavily behind me as I went up a staircase that decided to change directions when I was halfway up it.
Stuck and unsure of which direction I was going, I kept going up until I was met with the Ravenclaw Common Room and its magical knocker. This was definitely not the direction I was supposed to be going in. I shook my head and glanced around for a clock of some sorts. I had gotten special permission to go down to The Three Broomsticks for my interview. The man interviewing me had said that he didn't want to come up to Hogwarts because he didn't want to distract other students who may be interested in the job.
Or something like that. He wasn't very clear on that, but he was quite adamant about our meeting time. I turned away from the Ravenclaw Common Room and maybe took ten steps when the door opened and someone called my name.
“Charlotte?” I stopped and heard footsteps approaching. “Charlotte! It is you.” Drew appeared at my side, looking pleased to see me. “What are you doing outside the Ravenclaw Common Room?”
“Oh.” I fumbled over my words. “I was heading up the staircase toward Gryffindor Tower when it changed, and I suppose that I just kept following up until it led me here.”
“They have a habit of changing, don't they?” Drew was all smiles today. “I was actually looking for you! Just popped back into the common room to grab something. Shall we walk together?”
“Do you know the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room from here? Because I don't.” I had never gone to this part of the castle before.
“You've never been on this side of the castle before?” Drew inquired, as if reading my mind.
I shook my head. “No. I never had any reason to come over to this side of the castle.” I said honestly, as Drew reached for my hand. I really tried to let him hold it, truly, but it just didn't feel right so I pulled away and pretended to tie my shoe. He reached for it again when I was finished, and giving up, I let him.
“But I live on this side of the castle.” Drew was saying. “Shouldn't you come over to see me from time to time?”
“You've never invited me.” I replied, my fingers feeling awkward in his. “Why were you looking for me?” I pulled his attention back to the previous topic.
“Just to see you.” He said, smiling. “I wanted to wish you luck! You've got an interview today, don't you?”
Blinking, I turned to face him. “Yes...” I said slowly. “I do, but where did you hear this from? I haven't told you yet.”
“Ritchie told me.” Drew waved off the significance of this. “Piper was talking about how nervous you were and he mentioned it one day. Were you going to tell me about this?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued plowing straight through the conversation.
“I mean, this is a fantastic opportunity. Of course, you must take it!” Drew stopped walking and looked out one of the windows, out onto the lake. He crossed his hands behind his back. “All our dreams can then come true, Charlotte. Everything we've ever wished for will happen. I just know it.”
“I was going to tell you.” I managed, awkwardly sidling up to him. “But there never seemed the right time. I don't even know if I'm going to get the position.”
“Don't be stupid,” Drew rolled his eyes. “Of course you must! At all costs. It is extremely important for our future together.” And then he smiled. A cold, calculating smile that sent chills down my spine. “When is it?”
“Do you have the time?” I answered. “I was trying to get to the Common Room so I could get ready for it. I'm supposed to meet Roger Smith at noon.”
Drew glanced down at his wristwatch. “It's about eleven. We should hurry you back to the common room, then. Tardiness impresses no one.”
I left Drew out in the hall. He had tried to kiss me but I just didn't have in me. The very idea of remaining with him gave me a headache. I didn't want to deal with this idea of impressing anyone or pushing myself to do something I didn't want to do. Whether or not I got this position or managed this interview was all on fate. He could like me, or he could hate me. There was nothing I could do to change what hand was dealt to me.
And I did not like the idea that I should do whatever to guarantee a position that I may end up declining at the end.
I changed into more impressive robes. Ones of dark brown that suited my complexion and the color of my hair. I pinched my cheeks, forcing color into my pale complexion as I ran a brush hastily through my ratty hair. It stuck to some knots and I grimaced when I pulled them loose. I whipped out my wand and polished it quickly on my messy bedsheets. I slipped on my shoes and hustled my way down the steps.
Oliver was in the common room. He was sitting on the sofa, eyebrows knitted together, looking frustrated and stressed.
“Oliver?” I paused on my way to the portrait hole and stared at him. “Don't you have a match today? How come you're not at the pitch yet?”
“I do.” He said curtly, not moving his eyes away from the chart on the desk. “The Ravenclaws have something up their sleeve and I can't figure out how to get past them.” Oliver ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up more on end than it had ever been before. “I thought we had an easy win because of our secret weapon, but somehow Ravenclaw had gotten wind of it and figured out a way to deflect it. I wanted somewhere quiet to think, and everyone's already moving out towards the pitch...” He let out a deep breath. “If we can't win, Charlotte...” he looked up briefly. “This is my last year. There will be scouts...”
“You'll win.” I said decidedly. “I know you will. You've worked too hard. Don't over-think it.”
Oliver nodded gruffly. “Good luck to you, too, on your interview. I hope you get the position that you want.” His attention was back on the piece of parchment, and his voice was seemingly uncaring but he was twenty-times more sincere than Drew had been.
“How did you know about the interview?”
Again, Oliver did not lift his head up to acknowledge me. Instead he said, rather nonchalantly too, “You mentioned it last week. Mumbled it, actually. You were scribbling in your planner and mentioned something about an interview.”
“Thanks.” I breathed.
He looked up. Our eyes met for a brief moment.
“Don't over-think it, Charlotte.”
“It's very nice to meet you.” The man sitting across from me at The Three Broomsticks smiled and held his hand out to me. “I'm Roger Smith. I'm in charge of interviewing prospective junior Unspeakables. You are...Miss Charlotte Murray?” He scanned over a list he had in his hand.
It was very short.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Very nice to meet you, too.”
“Alright, Charlotte,” his ease was strange considering his position. Weren't all Ministry workers supposed to be mysterious and not very friendly? “We've reviewed your resume, which, I might add, is very impressive. You seem to have been working towards this goal for a very long time, eh?” He laughed. “Very rarely do we get people like you.”
“I've interned over the summer holidays at the Ministry, but I have to confess that I did very little.” My fingers toyed with each other out of nervousness. “They mostly ordered me around. I spent a lot of time doing copy-work and summoning coffee, mostly.”
“Sounds like an internship,” Roger stated. “I also see that you don't have any recommendations from your professors?”
“I haven't gotten to that yet,” I answered. “I didn't think the preliminary interview would be so soon. I plan to ask them right after this interview.”
Roger looked amused. “You needn't be in such a hurry, Charlotte. After all, official applications won't be due for another two months or so.”
“I will need to have passed this interview, of course,” I clarified, “before I can officially file an application stating my intention to work for the Ministry...?”
“Yes.” Roger affirmed. “With your official application – with all its formalities and whatnot – you'll attach another copy of your resume, and recommendations from your professors. When it reaches my desk, I will attach a copy of my evaluation from this preliminary interview; once it departs my desk, your application will be reviewed by the Department of Mysteries staff and by the end of July, you'll hear whether or not you've been allowed further interviews and evaluations.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It's supposed to be,” He sighed. “Unspeakables are ridiculously hard to hire, even junior ones. Either people are unwilling to go through such rigorous interviewing or they fail the interviews due to a flaw in their characters. Unspeakables, you know, need to have a certain personality – secretive, capable of working long hours...alone. Trustworthy. They hardly come into contact with many of the other Ministry workers.”
“Well, if one has to guard the secrets of our Ministry...”
“It makes sense,” Roger finished, smiling a little. “I never know anything besides this point. I meet the prospective candidates, do my evaluation, and attach it. Once it leaves my desk, who the department decides to hire...I have no clue. No one does. Very hush-hush.” His smile broadened. “But of course, I'm sure you'll be alright.”
My palms began to sweat. What was I getting myself into?
“I have one last question,” I cleared my throat, smiled as though I had complete confidence in myself, and leaned forward a bit, “After one becomes a junior Unspeakable, how does one progress to Unspeakable?”
“Without the junior attached to it?” Roger inquired.
I nodded.
“No one knows.” His animated face stilled to complete seriousness. “No one has any idea what goes on in that part of the Ministry.”
I gulped. “Okay.”
Roger smiled again, all joking and animation back on his face. He straightened his tie. “Alright, Charlotte. Let's get this interviewing going.”
“Alright.” I sat up straighter, more serious. I tried to seem more confident than I felt.
“First question,” Roger peered at a piece of parchment on the table. “Why does this line of work interest you?”
“It's an important job,” I said seriously. “The entire Ministry's secrets are kept by the Unspeakables. I guess ever since I was young, keeping secrets has sort of been my thing...”
A rigorous two hours later, I had completed my interview. Roger seemed to be under the impression that I had done very well, but I was a nervous wreck. I shook his hand, my palms probably sweaty and warm and said goodbye to him.
There were so many things I could have said instead of what I had said. It was that feeling of total regret. I felt slow, bewildered. I paused by one of the shops and leaned against its wall, exhausted. I could have been more eloquent, and less honest. I could have said this instead of that – showed slightly more confidence than I had. I could have been great. I could have been perfect.
I shook my head. Enough. The interview was over and there couldn't be anything I could do to change what I had said or done. Whatever impression Roger had of me was going to be recorded and it would determine my fate in that department.
I made my way up back to Hogwarts slowly, taking my time. I tried to turn my brain off. Tried to not think about all the things that I did wrong. I tried not to nitpick my behavior, from what I had chosen to drink to what I had said to the first question.
Why wasn't I as eloquent as everyone believed me to be? Why wasn't I as intelligent and confident as say, Drew?
I shook my head again. No. I would not compare myself to him. His standards were not mine. His future was not mine. I wanted to choose my own path. My own way in the world.
What did I love about Drew? The thought puzzled me, now, considering how easy I had been to fall for him. But then again, I had barely known anything about his true character.
True character. What was I doing? Writing a melo-drama? But I couldn't help but acknowledge that I had been swindled a bit. I thought he was a gentleman. Which, by all appearances, he was, but under closer inspection, Drew was a lot of things that I hadn't known he was.
He was ambitious, yes, more-so than many of the Slytherins. But he was clever. Dreadfully clever and calculating. Intelligent to the point of unfeeling. He was very rigid and set on his beliefs, believing himself to be so brilliant that his beliefs could never be wrong.
But he was, frequently.
I found myself near the Quidditch pitch, amongst the screams and cries of the crowd. Tempted to see what was going on, I edged closer to it. Closer and closer until I was underneath one of the tall stands. I peeked my head around it and looked up at the action.
The first person I noticed was Oliver. He was yelling, his broom swaying slightly in the breeze, his hair tousled. He waved his hands at Harry Potter, screaming something I could barely make out.
The young seeker went into a dive, followed closely by the attractive Ravenclaw seeker. Her long black hair billowed out behind her, her lips quirked into a large, almost seductive smile as she tailed him.
And then she halted in mid-air, her face now contorted into one of horror. She screamed, a blood-curdling scream that silenced the crowd. The wind blew hard as my eyes followed to where she had been pointing.
Three Dementors.
The hairs on my arms stood up on end as I stared at them. Intimidating in their dark cloaks, but also somewhat wrong. I had always thought Dementors to be much scarier...and...well, float-y. They were not flying in the air, or gliding, but remained rather stationary...
Both Quidditch teams paused for a moment, as if transfixed by what was going on. I forced myself to look away, to glance up at the skies for a moment. Harry seemed transfixed as well, but he managed to lift his wand and send a full-fledged Patronous flying at the creatures.
Oliver was yelling again. Egging Harry on. Everything seemed to continue on as if nothing had happened. The brief stop (which I can only describe as hitting a pause button on a recorded match) seemed forgotten as Harry zoomed on his broom.
The Ravenclaw was on his tail again. The chasers had stopped moving, and were sitting on their brooms, screaming. They were all yelling. All cheering. Gryffindors screamed, clung to each other and cried.
It was so close. The girl and Harry, flying together, as if they were one single being until I saw him reach out his hand. The little golden snitch glimmered a bit in light, the only indicator that it was even there. His fingers reached, longer and longer as the Ravenclaw chaser tried to reach as well.
All at once, Harry's hand connected with the snitch and there was a collective roar from the Gryffindor crowd that deafened me. I closed my eyes, stunned by the noise. I had never heard anything quite so loud nor uplifting, before. My heart was hammering away, lost within the crowd.
I understood, now, why Quidditch drove everyone mad. The cheering was like a drug. It could catch you, drive you insane with addiction and leave you. One could get caught up in the mob mentality of it all. The feeling of righteousness and victory when your team won.
The team hoisted Harry up onto their shoulders. Oliver's face beamed.
He must have figured out a way to get past Ravenclaw. I smiled.
The Gryffindor Quidditch Team neared where I was standing, and I swear for a moment, Oliver noticed me. His mouth smiled, and opened as if he were going to say something. He had raised his hand, taken a couple steps in my direction when he was bowled over by Isabella. She covered his face with kisses, but his eyes were still on me.
I ducked and began quickly walking back towards the castle. My pace was quick. I wanted to get away before the crowds mobbed the path back to the castle. I wanted to remain invisible. I wasn't one to go to matches. I hadn't gone to one, ever. That was my first. I didn't want to be a hypocrite. I didn't want to be discovered by Alex or Claudia or Piper.
It was a moment for myself.
“You're lovely, you know that?” A voice caught my attention. “You have the most beautiful skin. It's like porcelain.” There was giggling. “You're such a classic beauty. Light hair, gorgeous eyes...”
“Stop it.” More giggling. “You're just all words, aren't you? Just a bunch of clever words strung up on string.”
“Truth.” The voice changed. It was more gruff. More animalistic. “You are the loveliest creature I've ever seen.” And more giggling.
I kept walking, and the closer I walked towards the castle, the louder their voices were. I past by some foliage and noticed two people stuck together.
The girl, truly, was beautiful. Skin as pale as milk, lips as pink as a pink primrose. Her hair was golden, like his, but where his was pale and white, hers resembled the sun's rays. He ran a finger down her cheek, and she tried to be tricky and duck, but he caught her in his embrace and when he kissed her...
I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. They were so lovely. A beautiful couple – almost too beautiful to be true.
And when they turned towards me, I wished that they weren't true. I wished that it wasn't happening. At least, not right in front of me.
She stopped kissing long enough to run her hands through his hair, and pushed his glasses up for him. He went for her lips again, capturing them with his in a breathtakingly passionate kiss.
It would have made for a beautiful picture.
Except she was kissing Drew.
And Drew was kissing her back.
I fled the scene like a guilty child who had witnessed something I shouldn't have.
Author's Note: Well, chapter twenty three is finally here! Took long enough, right? And I'm a jerk and left it here. I'm sorry, but it had to be done! And sorry for this taking so long to be written. I got really distracted with a side-project I've got bubbling on the side. :)
No worries. Chapter twenty-four should be in the queue by the end of the week. :D
Please leave your thoughts & comments. Also if you see any glaring mistakes, point them out. I sometimes skim and miss typos. Thanks for reading, folks!
♥
Chapter Twenty-Four: A Love Scene from a Bad Dream
“We've found a way to dethrone Isabella.” Alex was sitting across from me, saying this sentence with complete nonchalance that I almost didn't believe her.
“What?”
“We've wormed our way into Slytherin, now.” She leaned back against her chair, looking smug. “Anyone who says that Gryffindors and Slytherins can't work together clearly haven't seen our communication skills.”
“And by communication skills, you mean blackmail right?” I rolled my eyes. “How did you get in?”
“Turns out that Elise Davenport stole Tracey Davis' boyfriend in fifth year.” Alex was still all confidence. “Isabella doesn't know this, of course, because she hates when girls steal other girl's boyfriends.”
“Hence, why she hates you.”
“Yes,” Alex affirmed. “Tracey is a nice Slytherin. She understands our predicament and is willing to plead our case to the head of the Slytherin girls, Ophelia Youngblood.”
“Ophelia?”
“She's in our year,” Alex replied, “very tall, dark skin and lovely hazel eyes? Usually followed around by her group of five?”
“I've seen her before.”
“Actually, I think she's in your Potions class.” Alex thought for a moment. “Which is perfect because...” she trailed off.
“Perfect because of what?”
“Because of reasons...” Alex grinned. “Don't worry, Lotty, we won't involve you in too much trouble. Just might need you to butter her up slightly...maybe...”
“...Alex...”
“Okay, word in the hallways is that she's in need of a Potions tutor.”
I took in a deep breath. “I can't.”
“Why not?” Alex put her elbows on the table and leaned forward at me. “You agreed to tutor bloody Wood, didn't you? Why not make some room in your schedule for Ophelia?”
“Because I haven't tutored Wood in a week.” And there was the truth. I had been meaning to tell my friends about seeing Drew snogging the life out of that other Ravenclaw girl, but I had instead, kept it to myself. I wasn't in the mood to tutor anyone, so I had cancelled all my sessions with Wood for a week.
“Why?” Alex looked confused. “Where have you been snooping off to, then? Secret rendezvous with your boyfriend?”
I winced. “No, nothing like that...”
I had been avoiding the library, and instead, had been going up to the clock tower and doing my homework by wand light. It was peaceful, and dark...and if I cried...no one would hear me.
There were also moments in-between classes where I would feel weepy and would duck into girl's lavatories to cry. I avoided the one occupied by Moaning Myrtle.
I had become absolutely pitiful.
“It's just been hard, you know? I can barely make room for myself and it's all just very time consuming.” I tried to smile, but my lips felt tired and sagged downwards.
“You've been staying up late, too.” Alex reached over and touched my skin right below my eyes. “You've got such heavy bags under your eyes.”
“It's all that homework,” I sighed. “N.E.W.T studying and whatnot.”
“You've been pushing yourself too hard...” she shook her head. “But please, if you could just...make a little bit of room for Ophelia...I've heard she's very bright and would probably pick up concepts much quicker than Wood...so it would only take half of your usual tutoring time?” Alex's eyes widened and she pouted a bit.
I sighed out of exhaustion. “Alright. I'll do it.”
“Perfect.” My so-called best friend grinned widely. “I told Tracey to tell Ophelia that you were free in the library from 8-10. That's your usual time slot with Oliver, isn't it?”
“Er, we didn't really have a time slot...” I was saying.
“Perfect. Bloody perfect. Getting the ball rolling. You're taking one for the team, Charlotte!” She was overly excited and clasped my hands tightly. “You're growing into such an incredible person...learning teamwork and all sorts of things. You're bloody perfect, Lotty!” She kissed my hands, gathered up her books and left me awkwardly at the table in the middle of the Common Room.
I had been throwing myself into everything. I read almost eight chapters ahead for Herbology and Charms, read even further, a whopping 10 chapters ahead for Potions and stayed up late completing Arithmancy homework due in four weeks.
If I was doing homework or reading textbooks, I wasn't thinking about Drew. And when I wasn't thinking about Drew, I wasn't replaying the scene where he and some blonde girl were snogging like animals behind a bloody tree.
Life was just easier if I did what I was good at – being invisible. I wouldn't have to talk to Drew about these things...I wouldn't have to deal with him if I pretended that he didn't even exist in the first place.
Oliver knew that something was wrong, though. I had run into him immediately after the disgusting Drew scene, and he had shifted from excited to excessively worried because I seemed to be distressed and panicked.
He held my arms and looked me full in the face, questioning with his eyes but not speaking up because he knew that I wouldn't have told him anything. I pulled away from him when the crowds called to him, called to their leader who had led their Quidditch team to victory. He let go of me hesitantly, and I found myself stumbling through the halls, trying to avoid all people.
I eventually ended up in an empty lavatory, where I found myself so overwhelmed with shame that I couldn't hold back my tears.
“Hello there,” an accented voice said as they plopped themselves across from me, in the empty seat previously occupied by Alex. “Why the long face?” Lindsey Adams stared at me intently, a battered book of American politics in her hands.
“Troubles.” I managed, giving her a weak smile. “Many troubles.”
“Please, speak of these troubles...” Lindsey nodded, opening me up to discussion.
“Well, I guess I'd first like to ask you how you got into the Gryffindor common room when you're clearly a Hufflepuff.”
“It's not like remembering passwords is necessarily hard,” she quipped. “Besides, Fred and George usually let me in anyway, so what's the difference? But that's beyond anything...why do you look so upset?” She leaned closer. “Is it...boy trouble?”
I was taken aback by her bluntness. “How did you know?”
Lindsey leaned back knowingly. “It's always boy troubles when it comes to girls. Trust me, I know. I've had my fair share of them, you know. I just think David is the fittest bloke at this school and just...why can't I get into the Slytherin common room?!”
Hearing her say words like “fittest” and “bloke” was strange. I wrinkled my nose but continued. “Because you're not a Slytherin?”
“I get into here, don't I?” Lindsey inquired pointedly. “But enough about my useless troubles. What about you? Did you see the boy you fancy kissing someone else?”
Merlin, this girl was a curiosity. Hearing her throw around those words with an American accent was bizarre. And yet, she was knowledgeable. “What on earth are you? A seer?”
“Nope.” Lindsey remarked confidently. “Mama says I'm good at reading people...and well, the same thing happened to me. I saw David snogging some Ravenclaw tart.”
“It's always the Ravenclaws, isn't it?” I managed, my lips pulling themselves up slightly. This girl was beyond amusing.
“Ah, a Ravenclaw tart took your bloke too, huh? They're all tarts.” She sighed. “But it left you feeling sad, right? Like you've got the mean blues. You run around feeling useless and unfortunate, and even though people ask if you're alright – you just keep saying you are because if you deny your sadness, maybe you wouldn't feel so sad, right?”
“Yes...” I nodded, almost bewildered by this weird Hufflepuff. “Except you're confused because you thought you were slowly falling out of love with him.”
“And you think you'd be pleased that he'd be such an arse because then you'd have a real excuse to break up with him? But really, instead, you feel ashamed of yourself and the shame is eating you slowly as you try not to start bawling all the time?”
“Not the bawling part, but yes,” I leaned on my palm, looking at her curiously.
“I completely understand.” Lindsey sighed.
“So maybe I wasn't as over him as I thought?”
“No.” She shook her head furiously. “You're just embarrassed is all. Your pride's been hurt...and that stings far more than anything right? You feel betrayed and yet, relieved. And because you feel so complicated on the inside, you don't know what to do and all these feelings make you cry.”
“I can hardly believe that we're having this conversation. Don't you think it's a bit bizarre considering that we don't know each other very well?”
“Making new friends every day,” Lindsey smiled. “That is my goal. Besides, we know each other. We both are friends with Fred and George, aren't we? They like you, so I figure that you're not that bad of a person...which is why I came over when I saw how sad you looked.”
“You're smart.” I chuckled.
“Thanks.” Lindsey beamed. “That's what they tell me! Biscuit?” She held out a chocolate smothered biscuit. “Biscuits make everything better.”
I took the offered biscuit as she grinned at me. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Lindsey leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the table.
“Do you know how I could make the mean blues go away?”
Lindsey shifted uncomfortably. “Fred and George told me that I need to confront David, and usually, I would, but the thing is...I don't think he even knows that I exist...so wouldn't it be a little bizarre if I just went over to him and confronted him about it? It's not like he's mine.”
“You know what I've realized?” I stared at Lindsey, sitting so casually, munching on a biscuit. “I've realized that when we talk about significant others...we're always so possessive about them. What makes us like this? What makes us use terms like 'ours' or 'mine'?”
“Dunno,” Lindsey sighed.
“What makes us so jealous?” I leaned into my palm, my eyes now boring into the wall behind Lindsey's head. “What makes us become like this?”
“Human nature, I suppose,” she said through a mouthful of biscuit. “We're just programmed that way...anyways, you should confront him! You'll feel better.”
“Heed your own advice,” I replied wryly. “Who knows, he might know who you are, then.”
“True, true.” There was a violent nodding of her head as she stood up from the table dramatically. Without another word, Lindsey disappeared up the stairs towards the boy's common room. I didn't know what she was going to do, but that didn't matter.
She was a strange Hufflepuff.
(Strange was an understatement)
It wasn't even as though I was jealous that Drew was snogging some other girl – it was the fact that it was behind my back after all his plans about our future together. Key words being “our” and “together.” It was nice knowing that someone (apparently) loved/was obsessed with me enough to plan out our entire lives together. Yes, it was a bit creepy, but it was flattering! It fluffed up my ego until it was bigger than Oliver's.
Okay. Oliver's ego isn't that big, it turns out, but you get the point of what I'm saying, yes?
I was on cloud nine, even if I felt suffocated. He wanted to be with me forever. That's dedication! He had our future planned. Why would he take the time to plan our future and everything when he was going behind my back to snog that stupid blonde Ravenclaw tart?
I wanted to say that it was just a one-time thing, but my gut disagreed.
And what would he say if I confronted him about it? What sort of excuses would he weave together and dangle in front of me? Would my ego sway me to believe him? What happens then?
Panic seized me for a second. What if I forgave him and really did spend the rest of my life with him? What if everything he had planned was going to come true. What if I didn't want it? I shook my head violently. No! Things wouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be like this. Why would I let it? My head was spinning wild thoughts and situations and I hated every single one of them.
I left the common room in a hurry. There was only one way I would be at ease – Lindsey was right. I had to confront him. I had to get out everything I had been feeling. I needed to meet with him.
I don't think he understood what was going on. Drew stared at me, his eyes dark, but chilling. He had taken his glasses off and they sat intimidatingly on top of the wooden table.
I had asked him to meet me in an empty classroom. I think he expected something else, because when he came in, he swept me up in his arms and kissed my cheek roughly.
“What's going on, Charlotte?” Drew's voice was calm. “You're acting awfully strange. Is something the matter?”
I had started to say “no,” the word was forming itself on my tongue, my lips curving to articulate the word before I changed my mind. I nodded my head vigorously. “Yes, Drew,” I folded my hands together in my lap and looked at them for support. “Something is the matter.”
He raised an eyebrow. That was his only reaction to my statement.
“I-I...” I paused to think, to consider my words before I spoke them. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay,” Drew said the word slowly, and leaned forward, staring me directly in the face. I lifted up my eyes and met his; they froze me on the spot. “Go ahead. Ask me, anything.”
And all thoughts left my brain. What was I trying to ask again? Why was I so afraid to voice my grievances? What the matter was me?
I cleared my throat, and focused on the bridge of his nose. “Why...no,” I paused, looking to reform my sentence. “Who was that blonde girl?”
He looked confused. “Blonde girl? What blonde girl?”
If this were a drama, the audience would be pointing their fingers at the telly screen shouting that he was a liar and that I shouldn't fall for the lie...I wasn't going to, but the confusion looked terribly genuine. And that was the problem. His genuine confusion would perhaps mean that I was...wrong?
My own mind became clouded with confusion and all other sensible sentences seemed to run right out of my brain. “The girl you were violently snogging with against a tree! For everyone to see!” I had raised my voice, quickened the pace of the words...my tone was so-so...accusing.
I hadn't meant to be accusing. I had only meant to question, to prod in order to gain a confession. When did I become a hormonal teenage girl running rampant due to feelings of insecurity or whatever else drove females to scream accusations at their boyfriends?
Drew placed his hands on the table. He looked relieved. The look of confusion had fled and slowly, his lips twisted themselves into an almost sick smile of relief. “Oh, you mean Priscilla?” Drew shook his head, now chuckling. “You needn't worry about Priscilla, love.”
“Don't call me that,” I retorted, confused. “What are you talking about? Why needn't I worry? How could you say things like that?”
“She's nothing,” he waved it away like a stray bug. “You're my future.”
“I don't understand.” I said flatly. “How can I be your future when you're off snogging some other girl? If you told this madness to anyone they would react the same way.”
“Don't worry, Charlotte,” Drew reached out to pat my hand. “I've got it all sorted out.”
“Sorted out?” I inquired, slightly alarmed. “What are you talking about?”
“How could someone like Priscilla Blayne become the future Minster of Magic's wife?” Since I had pulled away from Drew's hands, he crossed his arms defensively over his chest, staring me down. “She's not suitable. The public would loathe her.”
I felt like the wind had been knocked out of my sails. What was this nonsense spewing from Drew's mouth? Was he comparing Priscilla and I in terms of...
“Pardon?” I interrupted him for a moment. “The public would loathe her? She's not suitable? But, I am?”
“You are.” He affirmed with a quick nod of his head. “You're honest, intelligent...humble.” Drew picked at some lint on his sleeve. “You're tactful and resourceful and level-headed.” His gaze rose onto my face again, a curious sort of gaze that I couldn't quite place. “And above all, you know your place.”
The final sentence felt like a slap on the face. I almost wanted to turn away, howl like an injured animal. Instead, I stared at him, blankly, my mind unable to form coherent sentences.
“Priscilla would be so petty.” He continued, seemingly ignoring the look of shock on my face. “She would shop and gossip and be overcome by such simple emotions such as jealousy...” Drew let out a sigh. “She's a Ravenclaw but quite tactless, almost mindless. A pretty face with no brain. Quite a pity.”
I couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. Under the table, I pinched myself hard. The pain only made me more incredulous. This was his true self. Right before me, Drew Foster was revealing all his true colors. His pure ambition. Cold intellect. Heartless, brutal honesty.
“Priscilla would be an awful Minister's wife, don't you think? She doesn't know when she should keep her tongue in check. Silence can be quite golden at times...something she has yet to know but alas...” Drew gave a casual shrug, as though he were talking merely about some girl in his class and not someone he had been violently snogging with.
“W-Wh...” I began, my mind just barely wrapping around what he was saying. “Wh-what do you mean? W-...what do you feel for me, Drew?” My voice shrunk back, like a whisper. I was almost afraid of what he was going to say. Afraid because I could already feel my ego begin to peel apart at the seams.
“What I feel for you?” Drew sounded confused, and his knitted brows confirmed this. “I feel all sorts of things, Charlotte, how could you ask me this? I feel respect for you...admiration. You are a remarkable woman with a sharp mind. You're sensible and that is what the Minister's wife should be.”
“When you kiss me...” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “How do you feel? Happy? Joyful? Does it send butterflies soaring? The flutter of your heart?”
“My heart doesn't ever flutter.” He sounded amused at my questions. “I feel...happy, yes, I suppose so. I wouldn't know how else to describe it. I feel that we go well together. That we fit together.”
“Fit together?” I wanted to laugh. “Is that all?”
“We belong together. You and me. The world is ours! We might only reach out our hand and grab it.” He mimed the action, his blue eyes snapping electric sparks...a look of excitement on his face. I would have found it attractive; once upon a time, I did...but now...I didn't know what I felt.
“I'm afraid, Drew, that you've become lost in your delusions.” My voice came out stronger than I anticipated. I felt weak, betrayed. “Or maybe I'm the one lost in delusions.”
Drew lifted up his brow again, inquiring into what I was talking about.
“I didn't think you were like this.”
He laughed. “What did you think I was like, Charlotte? I've been honest from the beginning.”
“Then I misunderstood.” I nodded. “But you've misjudged me. I would never stand for something like this! I would never stand for cheating!”
“Cheating, dearest?” Drew drawled out, his brows disappearing into his hairline as his face contorted into one of surprise. “You're the one I will end up with...she's just a plaything...”
“Every Kennedy needs his Jackie,” I shook my head, disbelief still lined on my face. “But every Kennedy wants a Marilyn, too.”
Drew, unfamiliar with Muggle terms, shrugged.
“I can't...I can't be your Jackie,” I murmured. “I couldn't stand there and watch it. I couldn't just be your level-headed anything! This-this...can't we just...”
“Regardless of whatever a 'Jackie' may be,” Drew interrupted me, sounding now very annoyed. “I have laid out my plans, as per usual. If we are to remain together, then that's what will happen. You will endure and you will –”
“Endure?!” My voice rose now, almost a shriek. “Endure?! That's the most painfully hilarious thing I've ever heard! I will never, never endure something such as this. I won't, I shan't! My life won't be a sham! My life won't be a lie! I won't have you making my decisions for me and it will stop, now!”
The silence that followed was painful.
Drew calmly, too calmly, folded his hands together on the table, looking ever-so-much like the politician he wanted to be. “I didn't take you for one of them.” His voice was laced with his own disbelief. “One swallowed so easily by petty emotions like jealousy. I thought we were one in the same...that we had the same dream...the same feelings...” He shook his head. “I have misjudged you terribly. It seems that you are nothing like the girl I thought you were.”
I swallowed again, but the lump wouldn't go down. It choked me. Choked all the words that I wanted to say and scream and let off my chest.
“I'm quite disappointed in you, Charlotte.” Drew's voice was flat, unsympathetic. He didn't understand why I was upset or why I thought the way I did. “Disappointed because you led me to think you were someone capable and willing to be the Minister's wife.”
“I never said I was anyone...” The words barely made it out. My eyes were shining with tears, and my voice was growing thick and hoarse from the emotion.
“Alas,” Drew put on his glasses, stood up and crossed his hands behind his back. “I see this is how it must end.” He shook his head again, and made to walk out the door, but at the last moment, he turned around and gave me one final glance. “It ends in disappointment...”
He shut the door lightly behind him.
The wind was cold. It bit at my cheeks in a vicious way, causing redness to dot otherwise pale skin. I stuffed my hands into my pockets to warm them. Disappointment. I sighed to myself, my ego completely bruised. I wanted so badly to gather myself into a little ball and cry because I felt so bad for myself. Was I so pitiful?
My steps seemed to echo loudly as I walked along the corridor. Time seemed to stop as I paused to lean against a wall, my body sinking downwards.
Is this what rejection feels like?
I clutched my hand to my heart, as though a sudden electric spark had jolted through it. I felt cold, sick, embarrassed. The pit of my stomach gurgled with all the feelings I had been holding back. Resentment, embarrassment...there was something else, too. Something else that I couldn't put my finger on.
There was a panicky feeling of being alone – that no one would be there to catch you if you fell. I shook my head. There hadn't been anyone before, so why would I be bothered with this feeling?
I took in a deep breath and hastily wiped my eyes with my sleeve. It was dinner time, and if I was absent, my friends would surely notice...but if I went like this...
Why didn't I want them to know? Was I ashamed of what had happened? I thought honestly about my feelings. I wasn't sad, per se, but if I wasn't sad, why was I crying? What was this bubbling frustration and loneliness that caused tears to spring to my eyes at the thought of what had happened.
I think I was most afraid of what others would say. What would the gossips spread? What sorts of supposedly comforting words would be said to me. How many hugs would I receive? Offers to let me lean on their shoulder in my time of sadness?
I wasn't sad. No. I really wasn't. A little relieved; honestly, mostly relieved.
He had said that I disappointed him. Disappointment. That single word left such a bitter taste in my mouth that even though I swallowed three, four times, I couldn't rid myself of the flavor.
I took another deep breath and steadied myself. Reason overtook emotion and I shook my head, trying to clear it of all that had happened.
At least I had known the truth. At least I wouldn't be blinded by my delusions. And I had been delusional. I had thought him a prince, only to find a trickster within. The thought brought a small smile to my face because the image was so absurd.
Absurd. The whole thing was absurd and stupid and I wished to never feel this way again.
I did not notice the footsteps approaching me, quickening until I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning, my reddened eyes met the warm hazel eyes of someone familiar.
“Are you alright?” His voice soothed. I wanted to turn away, and hiss, but I couldn't. His voice entranced me and before I could stop myself, he pulled me into his arms and I began to truly sob. I sobbed like the world was ending and my parents were dead and I would be alone forever.
Oliver smoothed my hair, cradled me. He said nothing, but just stayed there, letting me sob and sob and sob and sob until I seemed to have no tears left.
Finally, embarrassed, I pulled out of the hug and looked up at him.
And he was smiling.
I don't think I would ever forget that smile.
Author's Note: -throws hands up in the air- I give up! I surrender! Please put your sporks away! I promised that I'd update by the end of the week but instead...I am here...like, a month+ later. I am sorry.
But what did you think of it? Drew's melodramaticness much like the politician he wants to be, eh? Hopefully. Charlotte's all sobbysob and sad but it won't last, seriously!
And some love for the Oliver fans, eh? :)
Thanks for reading! I'm now going back to the paper I have to finish in say...uh, 6ish/7 hours for my Literature class? Whoo!
Leave reviews for encouragement, please. ♥
Chapter 25: Never Been Anywhere as Cold as You
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Ophelia Youngblood belonged to the Youngblood family, one of the few remaining Pureblood families in the Wizarding world. She was everything that I had assumed her to be – intelligent, gorgeous...but also kind.
She greeted me with a smile when she saw me and immediately, I knew that Ophelia had earned her position of the “it” girl within Slytherin with charm and grace.
“I'm sorry I'm a little late,” I sat down in a huff, my cheeks pink and my eyes still a bit swollen from the crying earlier. “It's been a long day. Shall we begin with questions? What do you need help in?”
She surveyed me with those hazel eyes, leaned forward a bit and pointed to something in the Potions book. “N.E.W.T's are coming up and I'm still having some trouble with the practical part of the exam.”
“The practical part?” I lifted up my brows in question. Most people had trouble with the theory, but could stumble through the practical part with little difficulty. And some people, I thought, had trouble with both the theory and practical part....
That statement brought my mind back to Oliver and I felt my face heat up again. I tried to shrug it off, and turned back to Ophelia.
“You see,” Ophelia was talking again, her voice much deeper than other girls but perhaps lovelier. “Theory is good in all, but I feel ill-prepared for the practical part of the exam. I know which ingredients to use and which have this particular effect when implemented...but, when it comes down to it...” She looked quite embarrassed for a second. “When it comes down to actually creating the potion, itself, most of my concoctions run awry...”
“That's quite interesting,” I replied. “Why do you think that happens? Most people don't understand the theory behind using, for instance, that particular venom,” I pointed to a picture in the Potions textbook, “in this particular potion.”
“I dunno.” Ophelia bit her lips. “I know that that venom in this potion creates a reaction with this other ingredient,” she pointed to the sketched image of the root. “Especially because that venom by itself is extremely toxic and the root is actually quite acidic in itself...”
“I think, personally,” I pointed to myself to make a point. “That theory helps a lot with the practical aspect. If that venom creates a reaction with this particular root, what would happen if you added too much venom or not enough root? What if you mixed in another particularly volatile ingredient?”
“It would explode.”
“Precisely.” I nodded.
“I'm sorry,” Ophelia looked embarrassed. “I'm still a bit confused.”
“Potions is a bit like...cooking.” I fished around in my brain for a metaphor to help her understand it. “You can understand the recipe – like what you have to put in it, and how much of it to add – but how you execute it is as if not more important.”
“Okay...” she looked set on understanding this.
“For instance, cutting carrots,” I explained. “Sometimes, it matters how thick you cut them. You could slice them to be extremely thin, almost transparent, and you can also slice them to be meatier and thicker. This is important because if you add the same amount of the thin slices as the thick slices into whatever you're making – it's not the same.”
“Because thin slices are not enough compared to how much you need...?”
“Yes, and something too thick would be too much.” I nodded. “So in relation to Potions, let's go back to our previous example with the roots. You know how this particular root will react to this other ingredient, but don't think you think how well you cut the root will play a role in that reaction as well?”
“Ah...” Ophelia was smiling at me. “I think I understand now.” She grinned, now, nodding her head. “Because how thin or thick you cut the root is also connected to how much you put into it. If the slices are too thick then you could potentially be adding too much, which would affect the potion, itself, right?”
“Yup.” I nodded. “See!”
Ophelia surveyed me for a moment. “You know, Charlotte, you're a really good teacher.”
I laughed. “Thanks! A few people have told me so, but my friend Alex insists that I'm very impatient sometimes.”
“Patience takes learning, don't you think?”
“Interesting thought,” I gave her a look of my own. “Do you think that we're not all born with patience?”
“Well, some more than others, I think.” Ophelia laughed, too. “I'm as patient as the earth. If you didn't understand Transfiguration, I would have no qualms with spending three days just sitting here, explaining the same principle to you over and over until you understood it.”
“I've never met such a patient Slytherin before.”
Ophelia smiled a wide smile. “Sometimes, I really dislike the four houses.”
“And why is that?” I was genuinely interested.
“There is such a separation, and a judgement.” She cocked her head to the right in thought. “For instance, all the reputations – Slytherins as being jerks, Gyrffindors as being overly-courageous, Ravenclaws as being brainy and Hufflepuffs as taking any and all leftovers.” Ophelia tapped her quill against the desk. “Don't you ever imagine what it would be like if we didn't have categories like those?”
“Regardless of houses,” I replied. “There would still be categories based on silly things like what year you're in or blood superiority or I dunno, those things...”
“You're right.” Ophelia sighed. “Maybe I'm just really idealistic.”
“It's good to be idealistic, though.”
“Really?” She laughed again. “You're the first to have ever said that to me. Others just tell me to get a grip and to deal with realism.”
“Realism sucks.”
“I couldn't agree more...” Ophelia sighed. “Say, Charlotte, have you ever considered taking over the position of Potions Master one day?”
“From Snape?” I inquired, my brow raised in surprise. “Wouldn't I have to pry it out of his hands, first?”
“No, really,” Ophelia grinned at me. “I think you would be a really great Potions Master. Maybe in ten years or something, Snape will retire and you could take his place. Or I dunno, go abroad and teach potions somewhere else? Durmstrang? Beaubaxton? Salem Witches' Institute?”
“I dunno...” I said truthfully. How was I supposed to tell her that I was already on a career path?
“Whatever,” Ophelia shrugged, backtracking. “Don't worry about it! We'll figure it out, right? It's not like the future is rapidly approaching and we better pick something quickly, right?”
I gave a shaky laugh. “Right...”
Ophelia's words still hanging above my head like a giant thought bubble, I exited the library and took a sharp right. I dug my fingers deeper into my pockets, took a deep breath and continued on my way back towards the Gryffindor common room.
It was so interesting how even though every person sorted at Hogwarts was different, we were all sort of similar, too.
Ophelia was a Slytherin and I was a Gryffindor, but the two of us had a lot in common. Mothers who pestered and plotted our futures without much inquiry into what we wanted. Parents who squabbled and fought but somehow, despite everything, still loved each other.
She was ambitious and I was ambitious...but in different ways.
Ophelia did what she want and she did it with a smile on her face and a sharp and cunning mind. I did what I was told to do, all without question and without much emotion.
I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a familiar voice. Claudia? The tone was something different though. Something vicious and cold and knife-like. Her voice cut through the silent hallway, sending chills down my spine.
Another voice pushed Claudia's out of my ears – more emotional, overwhelming...
I continued a few more paces before stopping cold. Their voices got louder, even though they weren't shouting at each other. It was a chorus of emotion – overwhelming, spilling over the edges...cutting through everything else in its starkness. The words were woven together with precision, with care and thought but it was hard to hide emotion when it was there.
I could see Claudia standing in an alcove, close to someone else but her body was obscuring the other person from my view. I quickly ducked behind a suit of armor and continued to eavesdrop.
Claudia shifted a bit and I saw the other person.
“...Isabella...?” I asked myself softly, peeking from the suit of armor's right arm.
She was crying, but her lips were set in a very stubborn line. Her face was an open book. Fury. Unbelievable fury. Fury that brought tears to her eyes.
What was happening? I had thought that Isabella wasn't on speaking terms with any of our little group...that she loathed and hated us because of whatever delusion she had...
Claudia'a face was unreadable. Her icy blue eyes barely addressed Isabella as she said whatever it was she was saying...but her tone was not unreadable. It was icy and unsympathetic and sharp. So sharp that I could feel my heart thundering in my chest.
Their encounter was so unbelievably strange; it was something I thought I would never see.
Seeing the two standing next to each other, I saw the stark contrasts between the two girls. One, emotional and expressive...the other, cold and distant. Blue eyes staring down brown eyes. One with dark curls and the other with straight hair.
But...there were similarities too – the set of their mouths, the way their brows furrowed when drawn together...the stubbornness; neither girl would give up whatever position she took.
Claudia was talking again, speaking a bit louder this time. I couldn't make out the entire sentence because although I was close enough to see and hear their meeting, I couldn't make out individual words or sentences.
But what Claudia said, I heard. Something about a woman named Anita.
I took a breath and ducked when Claudia suddenly turned, her eyes surveying the hallway like she felt like they were being watched. Her attention was brought back towards Isabella when the latter said something offensive – too offensive for me to even think of repeating.
I peeked again, just in time to see Claudia's face flush red in anger as she pulled her hand back and slapped Isabella across the face.
The sound of it rang through the empty hallway, as alarming as the sound of a bell tolling in the darkness.
Claudia turned her back on Isabella and with her usual poise and dignity, walked away from the girl.
Isabella's hand was clutched to her face, and she had stopped crying. Her eyes were dark, almost frighteningly void of emotion as she turned to watch Claudia walk away. Her lips were set in a thin line again, but she didn't say anything as she walked the opposite way, off towards one of the female lavatories.
Anita? The name rang a bell. Digging into the depth of my memory as I continued to hide behind the suit of armor, I fetched the memory of the name Anita.
I headed back to the library. Sidling past students at their desks or looking up books, I headed to the old school records – the ones I had seen Claudia leafing through ages ago. Squatting down, I fingered the various dates before I grabbed the familiar one that Oliver and I had looked through. Cradling it to my chest, I exited that particular section of the library and positioned myself in a dark corner, far from other students.
Anita Perez. That name! It was in here...and what had Oliver said about it? Could she be a relation of Isabella? Her mother, perhaps?
I flipped hurriedly through the old and dusty volume, coughing a bit as dust entered my esophagus and tickled its way down.
“Anita Perez.” My finger landed on her name and my eyes travelled to her moving picture. She had her arms crossed and grinned with reckless abandon. I searched her face for Isabella's features.
Yes, yes...the same nose...those lips...
Was Anita Perez Isabella's mother?
Questions clouded my brain as I set the volume down. I shook my head, and swallowed some of my thoughts as another name caught my attention.
Scarlett Quinn.
Pieces of the puzzle suddenly began to fit together.
Claudia's mother looked the same. Still beaming and blonde and...haughty. She was a year younger than Anita and not in Charms Club. She was president of the Drama and Choir clubs...and had been president for three years...
It seemed that she had founded those clubs before she left Hogwarts after her 7th year.
Interesting. I closed the volume and went back to return it to its shelf. Claudia's mother...and Isabella's mother...?
“And the plot thickens.” I murmured to myself. “What has Claudia got herself into?”
“You don't BLOODY appreciate me!” She was screaming at him. Screaming so openly and publicly that a few of the First Years trooped up towards their dormitories to escape the onslaught. “You've absolutely NEGLECTED me for these last few weeks!”
“I don't mean to...” Oliver was mumbling, his hands in his pockets, the look on his face that of a child being scolded. “I've been really...”
“Busy. I know.” Isabella's voice turned cold. “Always busy. Always out doing things. Always in the library. Always with that Charlotte girl...”
I had stepped into the common room when I had heard my name. I paused, the crowd shielding me from their sights.
The crowd had circled awkwardly around Oliver and Isabella.
“What is it that you've been doing behind my back, Ollie? What sorts of girls have you been seeing? What shady activities have you been doing?”
“I've been honest with you!” Oliver's voice had risen slightly. He looked at her sideways, his lips still downturned. “I've been studying.”
“STUDYING?!” Isabella snorted, her brows raised to demonstrate how incredulous she felt. “You think I'm going to believe that you've been studying all these weeks? You've never studied before, Oliver! Never before this year! Why the sudden interest in the books?”
“I've told you...” Oliver's voice had dipped down again, his face as red as a tomato.
It must've been so humiliating to be screamed at in public like this.
“Told me WHAT exactly?” Isabella's hands were on her hips, her face suddenly twisting in a way that she looked utterly sinister. “That you're a FAILURE at Potions? That McGonagall would DROP YOU from the team if you didn't raise up your Potions grade?”
I had never seen a boy looked so absolutely downtrodden before. His face was red with embarrassment...humiliation...
“He's not a failure.” It was Fred who spoke up, coming to his friends defense. He entered the fray brazenly. He crossed his arms as he stood next to Oliver.
Isabella laughed in that haughty way of hers. “I know a failure when I see one. You think that you're so bloody great at Quidditch, Oliver? Let's see you get scouted then! I know for fact that four scouts were at the last match and you have yet to receive an offer.”
Oliver looked at her, his eyes blazing.
“You're a bloody bitch, you know that?” Fred said loudly, addressing her in Oliver's stead. “And what you're saying is absolute bollocks.”
“It's not bollocks.” Oliver's voice was small, defeated. He put an arm on Fred's shoulder, letting him know that he should stop speaking. “Isabella's right...” he looked at her, his eyes full of loathing. “I haven't been scouted yet...”
She was taking out her humiliation earlier on Oliver. She was humiliating her boyfriend to make herself feel better...
And the worst part was that Oliver was just taking it.
Fred looked like he was going to say something, but Oliver shook his head at him.
“I haven't been scouted yet.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You're absolutely right.” Oliver surveyed Isabella with another look. “What else have you got to say to me, Isabella? What else will you accuse me of being? Because I'm not a liar or a hypocrite. I know exactly who and what I am – do you?”
Isabella looked taken aback. She looked like she didn't know what to say.
The entire common room stayed silent.
“I acknowledge that I am a failure and that I have limitations and that I am just not good at some things...” His voice was flinty. “I also acknowledge that you're right; I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve and for that, I am sorry...”
I wanted to say something, wanted to give my two sickles. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.
“But this isn't going to work between us anymore.” Oliver dropped the bomb calmly, his eyes full of emotion, his voice thick with it. “You can't take out your frustrations on me like this because I am not a plaything.” Isabella's face was shadowed with disbelief. “I don't believe in such public scenes...but when you put me in a situation like this – what do you expect me to do, Isabella?”
Isabella's lower lip trembled and for a moment, I saw her eyes take me in, standing right there in the front of the crowd. “It's because of her, isn't it?” She pointed at me, and there were a few hushed voices.
My lips parted as my head began to shake no.
“It's because of that little...little...whore, isn't it?” Her eyes were filling with tears, her voice becoming shrill and high-pitched. Isabella made to lunge at me, her eyes deranged with everything that had happened. “YOU'VE SLIPPED HIM A LOVE POTION, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU WERE DUMPED BY YOUR BOYFRIEND SO YOU'VE ATTACHED YOURSELF TO ANOTHER WOMAN'S MAN. YOU'RE THE LOWEST OF THE LOW!”
Alex appeared out of nowhere and held her back, her grip tight and her face absolutely stony.
Isabella fought Alex's grip, still screaming at me. “YOU'RE A RIGHT WHORE, AREN'T YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM? WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN BREWING IN THE LIBRARY, CHARLOTTE? TUTORING OLIVER? MORE LIKE POISONING HIM WITH YOUR POTIONS!”
I was shaking my head. Shaking my head “no” viciously. Why did she have to drag me into this? Why did she have to pull me into this? What did I do to deserve this.
“YOU LITTLE BITCH.” She tried to lunge again, but this time Oliver stepped in front of me and shook his head at her.
“No, Isabella,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “I gave up on us a long time ago...please, don't do this. You're making yourself look pitiful...”
“Pitiful?” Isabella's voice dropped. “You think I'm pitiful?” She pushed Alex off of her. “You're just like everyone, Oliver...” And her eyes latched onto me again. “And you...” I felt sudden fear clutch my heart as her face, so twisted with hatred, turned to me. “You enjoy this attention while you can.” Her voice was chilly. It was a warning.
Alex stood in front of me, shielding me, one hand holding mine tightly. She stared Isabella down, daring her to try and lunge again.
Isabella took a deep breath and with as much dignity she could muster, she disappeared up the stairs without any more fuss.
“I didn't do...anything...” I murmured, shell-shocked.
“I know...” Alex had turned to me and wrapped me in a tight hug. I clung to her as though I were going to fall. My legs were feeling like jello, all wobbly and unsteady.
“I'm sorry, Charlotte...” Oliver was there too, rubbing his neck, looking awkward. His face was still red and his eyes were still dark.
“You're not a failure, Oliver.” I looked up at him, my body still shaking but my brain set on telling him this. “You work hard and you're kinder than anyone I've ever met.”
He gave me a small smile.
“So please,” I was still clinging onto Alex, but my eyes begged him. “Please, please don't give up on your dreams...”
Author's Note: I said no excuses before so...no excuses. Here it is. Chapter 25. What do you think? I had a really hard time writing it because I was stuck on 1) explaining potions and 2) having to write all the emotion.
It still feels a bit flat to me. :/ And very jumpy.
I want to also say thanks to Gina (justonemorefic) for helping me with the idea that Potions is like cooking. :3 This chapter wouldn't have been able to continue forward without you! Thanks ♥
Please lemme know what you think. :3
He was avoiding me. Actually avoiding me.
I had sidled up next to him in Potions, hoping to actually have a conversation with him about what had happened two days before but he had turned away to go work with someone else.
I had tried again after class, quickening my pace to reach him but before I could speak, one of his Quidditch buddies called his name and dragged him up one of the moving staircases.
The past two days had been full of whispering. I could see and feel the eyes on me as I walked down the hallway, my books clutched to my chest. It was so awkward, all the staring and obvious whispering. Didn't they know that gossiping was bad manners?
“The whole school has gone bonkers.” Alex announced, flopping herself down next to me. “I thought we had gotten past all of this madness.”
“Gossiping is bad manners...” I murmured, my eyes lowered. I had been feeling the effects of the hideous Isabella/Oliver public break up.
“The whole school has bad manners.” She said matter-of-factly. “How have you been faring? Alright?”
“It's been okay so far...” I lifted up my face and managed a weak smile in her direction. “It's very different...to be so noticed.”
“Ah, yes,” Alex laughed. “You were never quite noticed before, right?”
I shook my head in frustration, and raised my hands up to the sky. “Why, why, why did they drag me into their bloody breakup? What do I have to do with anything?”
“You should hear the madness going around school...” Alex replied. “That you and Oliver were having secret rendezvouses in the library after-hours.”
“B-But...” I looked up at her, my eyes wide. “The library is locked after hours!”
“What First Year would know that?” She rolled her eyes. “They'd believe anything. I bet if I told a few First Years that Snape was actually half-Banshee they would believe me.”
That brought a small smile to my face.
“You haven't been listening to the rumors, have you?”
“I try not to pay attention...” I replied. “But it's hard not to when it's so bloody obvious that they're talking about you. I walk around feeling like I have this huge bogey sticking out of my nose...”
All the gawking made me feel like I was on display in a glass room, where my peers would press their ugly faces against the glass and jeer at me. It made me feel small...diseased.
“They're saying that Oliver broke up with Isabella to be with you.”
That made me laugh. “Are you serious? Have they nothing better to do? Why would he leave her for me? She's so much prettier and better than me and besides, he's been in love with her for ages! Why would he break up with her to be with me? Bloody ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes.
“Charlotte,” Alex's voice grew serious, and she grabbed my shoulders and forced me to turn towards her. “I-I don't want to frighten you...”
“You already are...” I joked, noting her serious expression.
“No, I'm serious now...joking aside, I'm afraid what Isabella's going to do to you.”
“What do you mean?” My brows furrowed. “Why would she want to...”
“Charlotte,” Alex's voice did frighten me now, as her eyes flashed with obvious concern. “Don't wander around the hallways without someone there, okay?”
“Alex, relax, she's not going to bloody murder me at Hogwarts, alright?” I tried to make light of the situation, to turn it into a joke. “We're already worried about Sirius Black murdering us in the middle of the night...it's not like Isabella is a blood-thirsty psycho after my head...”
“...Please, Charlotte,” Alex pleaded. “Between classes, you should go to the library or to the common room. Preferably the common room. Don't wander about by yourself, okay?”
“I'm not a small child.” I stood up. “While I understand and am touched by your concern, I just want to let you know that I'm going to be fine.” I took my leave, leaving Alex alone on the bench in the courtyard.
She was insane if she expected me to walk about Hogwarts with a chaperone. It wasn't like we were in some Gothic novel and I was some damsel standing in a white nightgown. No, I was seventeen years old, almost eighteen and I would be fine.
I kept walking when I saw Oliver exit a classroom and head right towards me...right before he cut a corner and walked into a hallway full of students. I followed, of course, squeezing and fighting my way through the current of students rushing to their next class. It was my free period, after all, and I really wanted to say a few things to Oliver.
Truthfully, I knew he was avoiding me. It was obvious, very, very obvious...but I chose to ignore it and rush after him. Why? Because some strange part of me wanting to assure myself that our friendship was okay...
“Oliver!” I called out, nearing him before a large Slytherin Sixth Year blocked me. I had to go around him and saw Oliver reach another corner. Rushing forward, I nearly knocked over a Gryffindor First Year and Second Year but managed to get out of the crowd. “Oliver!” I called out again, quickening my pace to reach forward and grab his elbow.
He had been close to sprinting towards his next class...but he turned, and when he saw me, he gave me a tight, close-lipped smile. “Oh, Charlotte, I didn't see you there. Hello.”
Lie. Our eyes had met in the hallway, when he had exited the classroom. But regardless of the lie...
“Hi,” I caught my breath and smiled at him. “You've been busy? Every time I see you, you're always rushing off...”
“Mm, busy, yes...” Oliver wouldn't meet my eyes. “Things to do...Quidditch...”
“Quidditch...” I lowered my eyes, my chest constricting in the strangest of ways. “How have you been, Oliver? Good?”
Merlin! This conversation was so bloody stiff! And awkward. He wouldn't meet my eyes, no matter how much I looked at his face. His gaze was shifted to the right, his stance one of nonchalance as he stood with his hands deep in his pockets.
“Things have been good...” His words seemed to not be directed towards me.
I wanted to wave my hands in his face, to pull his attention towards me. Why was he behaving this way? Why was he of all people, treating me like this?
“Good? I'm glad...” I said, straight from the heart. “I'm...quite glad...”
There was a pregnant pause as Oliver cleared his throat and shifted a bit on his feet.
“Am I keeping you from something?” I inquired.
“Ah...” Oliver's expression changed, something I couldn't understand. “I've got class.” With his thumb, he jabbed at the air behind him. “Transfiguration...”
“I shouldn't keep you, then...” I inhaled sharply and turned. “Sorry! I-I...” My own voice was quickly changing. I couldn't keep such a light-hearted tone with him when I was feeling so-so... “I'll see you later...?” My voice trailed off, softer.
“Goodbye, Charlotte.” Oliver said, his own tone of voice strangely strangled as he turned and made his way down the hallway.
“...Goodbye...”
This was what I wanted. This was what I had always wanted. I sat alone in my dormitory room. The rest of my roommates had class and I had decided to skip Arithmancy. I had closed all the curtains upon entering, so I sat in semi-darkness – perfect for my self-loathing.
He was ignoring me. And I wouldn't stop chasing after him. I shook my head. Why bother talking to someone who doesn't want to talk to you? Why does it matter so much that he's ignoring you? Truthfully, I wanted to cry. I felt so...alone.
Which was stupid because Alex, Piper and Claudia were still there for me. And Fred and George, as well. Why would I be feeling so down because one person decided not to be my friend anymore? And let's speak honestly. It wasn't like I had exactly sought out Oliver to be friends with in the first place. He was the one who had put out the olive branch for me to grasp.
I tried to reason with myself. Tried to use logic to overcome the amount of frustration I felt. Having someone ignore you...avoid you...really, really, just...hurts. Especially when you had thought that you were friends to begin with.
I remembered my philosophy from oh-so long ago: don't be with people who don't want to be with you. Don't be with people you don't like. I had stuck with Oliver because Alex had persuaded me to. Because his Quidditch mates had asked. Because I felt bad for him...
And even though he was stupid and bone-headed and stubborn and...so many things...we had become friends. We had become rather good friends.
I didn't want to admit it, but I sorely missed Oliver's company.
I missed his smile, his comforting presence when I was feeling down. I missed the way he scrunched up his brows when he was thinking over a Potions problem, or the way he always called me 'Charlotte' even though other people had come up with various nicknames for me.
Oliver had become such a large part of my life that when he wasn't there...I felt like I was missing someone. It was the same feeling I got whenever Alex left me to go party or hang out with other people. That feeling of missing a piece of yourself.
My mind was too overwhelmed, so I decided to go on a walk. Walks helped me clear my head and helped me really get out my frustrations. I grabbed my wand, pocketed it and left my dorimitory.
I just needed some clean air, and to get my blood flowing – everything would be alright.
Everything would not be alright.
As soon as I came down the steps to the common room, there was loud whispering. Three First Years pushed past me to go up the stairs and I caught a snippet of their conversation.
It caused me to nearly fall down the last couple steps in shock.
I-I...was a what?
The whole common room was staring at me. Their voices mingling together in whispers...and the things I heard...
I wanted to flee, but my feet felt like they were cemented to the floor.
“I heard she slept with the entire Quidditch team.”
“Really? She was always so quiet.”
“It's always the quiet ones.”
“I heard she's pregnant and the father is denying that the baby's his.”
“Did you hear about what she's done?”
“She earned her grades in Potions by...”
All of their words swirled around my head like a buzzing cloud of insects. I felt my face get hot...redden with embarrassment. What was I supposed to do? How could I correct all of them?
“She was dumped by that bloke in Ravenclaw because he finally heard about what a slag she was...”
If this was a movie, I would have prince charming swooping in at this moment to save me. To sweep me up in a princess lift and carry me out of the common room.
But this wasn't a movie. This was reality. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest, the blood suddenly rushing to my face. I tried to lift up my heavy foot and managed a step. I lifted up my other foot and managed another step.
Somehow, I managed to step out of the common room and into the corridor. By this point, I was breathing quickly and shallowly. I fought back the emotions that threatened to pour out.
I understood Isabella's warning, now, about enjoying the attention. I understood, now, why Alex was so...afraid for me.
Because rumors, and the way people look at you like you're dirt...because those things hurt so much more than physical pain.
Because Isabella knew how to play the social game, and I didn't.
Picking up my walking pace, I rushed into the nearest girl's lavatory. I went into one of the stalls, closed the door and sat down. What was happening? Why was this happening? So far, I could keep the emotions and the tears at bay. They threatened to spill over but I kept them in check.
I just barely managed to calm myself when I heard people come into the lavatory. I heard them chatting, complaining about classes and typical subjects until I heard my name. I heard what they were saying about, laughing, saying how they were disgusted with my behavior.
These girls, who hadn't known I had existed at all previous to this, were now laughing and judging me as though they had known me my whole life.
I wanted to scream at them, to shout and throw a tantrum. I wanted to be self-righteous and angry and defensive...but I didn't.
I looked up at the door and saw the writing scrawled against the wood.
My good name smeared in the bathroom stall. My good name being associated with all sorts of things. They accused me of sleeping with random boys I hadn't even heard of. They accused me of using people. Of being pompous and arrogant and buying my grades.
I ran out of the lavatory and sprinted down the corridor before I hit a dead end.
I leaned heavily against the wall, my breathing still labored as I fought the tears. Fought the embarrassment. I just wanted to have a peaceful Seventh Year.
I just wanted solitude and civility.
I didn't want this. Didn't want to be caught up in people's games. Didn't want to get caught up in feelings and-and...
I broke down.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. And I know he saw me, too. Saw me like he saw me after Drew and I had ended.
Only this time, Oliver didn't come to comfort me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn away and walk away in the opposite direction.
And that, for some reason, hurt so much more than what everyone was saying about me.
“Charlotte...” Claudia found me, huddled alone in the Owlery. The wind was cold, and it bit my cheeks. My lips were chapped from the crying and from the wind. She came towards me and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me to her. “Charlotte...”
I couldn't do anything but cry.
“This is my fault.” Claudia said, still cradling me like a child. “This is entirely my fault.”
“W-Why is it your fault?” I blubbered, feeling swollen and cold.
“I provoked her. I provoked her and she just...went into this tail-spin.” Claudia's eyes latched onto mine as she took a mitten'd hand and rubbed my icy cheeks. “There's so, so much you don't know, Charlotte. And I know that you know quite a bit.”
I gave her a questioning look as she pulled me up.
“Everyone's looking for you, Charlotte.” Claudia said. “And you must be completely chilled through. Let's get you back inside.”
I gripped her hand tightly. “Claudia?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming to find me...” I gave her the warmest smile I could muster.
Claudia smiled. A real smile. A smile that reached her eyes and made them sparkle. “You're my friend, Charlotte. I'll always come find you.”
She took me right to our dormitory room. She shooed out the other two girls and wrapped me in three blankets while we waited for Alex and Piper to return.
Alex was the first to return. “Why on EARTH did you decide to hide in the Owlery? That place doesn't even have windows! You could have froze out there!”
“But...I didn't...” I gave them both a smile.
“Have a piece of chocolate.” Claudia crouched down and swiped a box from underneath her bed. She handed me the heart shaped piece. “You'll feel lots better, I promise.”
“I went to the Owlery because...it just seemed logical at the time.” I told them, still cold but feeling better. “It was away from everyone else and no one really sends letters home on the weekday...I just needed some breathing room...”
Piper burst into the room and threw herself at me. She smelt of the kitchens as she handed me a giant cookie. “Thought you might need some warming up.”
“How did you know Claudia had found me?”
Piper snorted. “She sent an owl. Can you believe it? Alex and I were looking frantically for you in all the lavatories when this owl started tapping on the glass...”
“It was a little absurd,” Alex admitted. “But we're glad you're alright.”
“They're just words...” I told them. “Just words.”
“And words are quite harmful.” Alex retorted. “Don't you remember when Isabella spread about me?”
The flash of memory was quite vivid. The slanderous things scribbled in every bathroom stall. Alex was this, Alex was that. Alex had lost more than a few friendships because of Isabella. No one wanted to be friends with someone who stole boyfriends.
“I was worried that you'd do something drastic.”
“Ha. How did you know something was wrong?”
Alex, Piper and Claudia looked at each other.
I waited.
It was Claudia who spoke.
“You skipped Charms...” She paused. “And Oliver said that he saw you crying in the corridor.”
“Ah, so he cares...” I murmured to myself.
“What did you say?” Alex leaned in closer.
“Nothing,” I smiled. “I also skipped Arithmancy today as well.”
“Skipping classes? You?” Piper stared at me, dumbfounded. “I would have never thought you would be one to skip classes.”
I gave a watery laugh. “I'm becoming quite the rebel thanks to you guys.”
“And quite the dramatic,” Alex grinned, plopping down next to me as she wrapped a warm arm around my shoulder. “Hiding in the Owlery isn't something I'd expect from you, either.”
“Ha, bloody ha.” I rolled my eyes.
She squeezed me tightly. “I'm glad you're alright.”
“They're just words.” I said again, almost to reassure myself more than them. “I'm sure it'll blow over.”
Claudia got that strange look in her eye again, and I recalled something she had said when she found me...that it was her fault...and that I knew...
Knew quite a bit.
Quite a bit about what?
“Rumors are nothing,” Piper said with a smile. “People get bored of talking about one person for so long. I'm sure they'll find another victim.”
“Isabella might have lost it...” Claudia said softly, her eyes taking on that far-away look again.
“What do you mean?” I inquired, staring intently at her now.
Claudia looked up at me quickly, unaware that she had spoken aloud. She stood up, and handed me another chocolate. “Have another, won't you? I'm going out for a bit.” Smiling, she slowly backpedaled out of the room.
I stood up, making to follow, but Alex and Piper pulled me back. They didn't want me running around when I was already so chilled through. But I needed to talk to her. I needed to know what she was talking about.
I followed my feet down the bright hallway and towards the staircase. I took a few steps down, but stopped when I heard Claudia speak.
“Have you been pacing down here?” Her tone was curious, tinged with something else.
“No, of course not...” Oliver's voice replied, tense.
“It looks like you have been pacing.” Claudia replied, her tone elevating. Was she baiting him? I heard her take a step, and Oliver stopped her.
“Is she alright?”
Claudia harrumphed. “You should ask her yourself.”
“Please.” Oliver asked.
“She's fine.”
“That's a relief.”
“Do you feel guilty?” Claudia demanded.
I took another step down.
Oliver didn't answer.
I heard her leave the common room, my cue to follow. I took the remaining steps down the steps and saw Oliver turning at the same time.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, my heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling washed over me, and wanting to avoid another awkward moment, I rushed past him, following Claudia out.
“Claudia, wait!” I ran to catch up with her, stopping when she stopped. “Let's talk.”
Her face took on that vacant expression. “Talk?”
“You're the one that mentioned it.” I pointed out. “What is going on with you and Isabella?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don't play dumb.” I told her. “Let's talk.”
“Fine.” Claudia nodded. “We'll talk.”
We were in the kitchens, and some of the Hogwarts House-Elves had brought over warm mugs of tea. Claudia cradled one, sipping from it as she stared at me from across the small table.
“You said that this was your fault...that you provoked Isabella...”
Claudia didn't move, but continued sipping.
“I saw you talking to her in the corridor a few days ago.”
Claudia put the mug down, a small smirk tugged at her lips. “Ah, it was you? I knew someone was listening. I could feel it.”
“It was the same day that Oliver broke up with her and she dragged me into their break up.” I said this all matter-of-factly, not touching my tea, my gaze not leaving her face. “What were you talking about?”
“What do you know, Charlotte?” Claudia leaned forward, her eyes surveying me. Her attitude was different. She was not the Claudia who had found me back in the Owlery. She was much more cocky, arrogant...much more full of emotion. “I know that you were snooping in my library over Christmas.”
“You gave me free reign to explore.” I countered.
“I did.” Claudia acknowledged. “So, tell me, what did you find? What can you help me with?”
“Help you?”
“Yes, help me.” Claudia straightened up on the stool. “I've been looking for something. Can you take a guess?” She smiled a bit. “You've looked through the wedding photos. You've found the album I was going through in the library. You've heard me talking to Isabella...now tell, me Charlotte – what do you know? How can you help?”
“Anita Perez.” I said the name quickly. “How does she fit into all of this? Is she Isabella's mother?”
Claudia's gaze travelled from the small table to my face. “Yes, she is.”
“What else do you know, Claudia? Because I think I understand, now.”
“Understand what?”
“I understand Isabella's reasoning.” I replied, crossing my legs. “Why she's doing this to me. Why she always overreacted with Oliver. Why she broke off connections with Alex...”
Claudia's lips quirked.
“I saw something, Claudia, something else when I was staying with you over Christmas.”
“What did you see?” Claudia suddenly dropped her act. She resumed being just Claudia, except, more in-tune rather than aloof.
“One word.” I said, leaning forward towards her. “Obliviate.”
Author's Note: Dude, guys. I'M A TRUSTED AUTHOR, NOW! It's like all my dreams have come true! I'm so excited because I can update faster. For instance, this chapter came out quicker than the last one, right? :D I'm hoping to finish this story before summer is over! So, stay with me. Four more chapters, methinks. Might be a little bit shorter. Let's see what my brain thinks. :D
Things are starting to unravel. The plot is coming together. I am very happy. Thanks so much for your feedback! I would still love some reviews.
Thank you so much for all the support. Especially those who review after every chapter. ;) You guys know who you are! ♥
Claudia and I worked together to detail exactly which facts we knew.
I told her about what I had witnessed over Winter Holidays. I told her about the ring and the box and the bit of hair wrapped so carefully with a ribbon. I told her about her father and her mother and everything in-between.
And the whole time, Claudia just sort of watched me with a cloud over her face. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Was she frustrated? Sad? How did it feel to be the result of magic rather than love?
“Scarlett,” she said the name as though we weren’t talking about her mother, but rather, a stranger, “has been keeping Noah in the dark about something. Why?”
“And how long has it been like this?”
I saw a small emotion flicker across Claudia’s closed features. What was it? Hope? Hope that her parents had been in love at some point? Hope that she was the result of love and not some twisted manipulation?
“I think this mess started three years after Scarlett left Hogwarts.”
“How do you know this?”
“She isn’t exactly one to keep a diary.” Claudia replied. “But I do know that she had been dating a boy from Hogwarts. For awhile, I was under the impression that I wasn’t even Noah’s daughter, and she was somehow keeping him at her side in order to not have her life explode into scandal.”
“I dunno,” I twisted up my lips in thought. “This seems rather scandalous too, doesn’t it?”
We put our heads together and put our thoughts onto a piece of parchment brought to us by the House Elves.
Noah Gray had been a Hogwarts Professor of Astronomy. He hadn’t been in his station long when he was asked to be the Charms Club supervisor, which I found strange – but was ultimately told by Claudia that the rules were a bit murky when it came to clubs at Hogwarts. She had said that essentially, any professor could technically supervise a club because the rules only say that a professor has to agree to supervise to ensure that school rules are not broken. Professors were basically only needed to validate their club.
Claudia had also found out that actually, Anita Perez and Noah Gray hadn’t known each other at Hogwarts. She had dropped Astronomy after her O.W.L’s, and another member had been the one who had asked him to supervise.
“That’s interesting.” I chewed on the end of my quill. “They were in the same environment and yet…”
“It is rather interesting, isn’t it?” Claudia’s tone of voice was strained, but her face remained pleasant as she smiled. “It’s only too bad that Scarlett wrecked everything.”
“Maybe she didn’t wreck everything,” I replied, trying to be objective. “Maybe she was just a part of the overall problem?”
Claudia gave a bitter laugh and put the point of the quill back onto the piece of parchment. “My mother is always the overall problem.”
Three years after Hogwarts, Claudia’s mother had been dating someone from school and they had just split up when she set her eyes on Noah. We didn’t know the exact details of their meeting…but it was definitely fishy. Noah seemed utterly devoted to Anita and his sudden shift to attention was hard to believe.
“I went looking for clues,” Claudia told me as we continued unearthing the truths. “When I left you at the house, I had gone to Diagon Alley to look for clues. Anita worked at a nearby pub and the owner recalled that Noah would often visit her at work and give her flowers.”
“And then he stopped?”
“Yes.” There was a curt nod. “It just stopped one day, completely out of the blue, and he said that Anita seemed to grow more and more upset over it.”
“I wonder what happened.”
Claudia turned her eyes to me. “I don’t think we’ll ever know exactly what occured between Scarlett and Noah…but I do know that…well…” She lowered her voice and whispered the second half of the sentence.
I was stunned into sentence.
“…and the plot thickens, no?” Claudia’s voice had notes of bitterness as she turned to dip her quill into the ink.
“This definitely explains a lot.”
A few weeks later, though, and things were still going rather poorly for me. I had been tripped down the stairs more than once, and the gossiping still triumphed above everything else. It still hurt, of course, but I had begun to deal with it a bit better now that I was working together with Claudia on our “top secret” solution.
Oliver was still awkwardly avoiding me. Our eyes would meet across the Great Hall and he would avert his gaze somewhere else. I still didn’t understand why he was acting like such an idiot.
In Potions, we were no longer partners, to Snape’s slight interest. He had raised a brow when we had silently switched, but said nothing about the matter.
“He’s being a right git.” Alex seethed, pushing through a group of Second Years to seat herself next to Fred and across from me at the Gryffindor tables. “I thought he wanted to be friends with you.”
Fred patted her on the shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t let it get you down, Lots. He’s probably just…trying to be…”
“Noble or something.” George concluded, the right side of his lips lifting up to form a half-smile. “He feels bad.”
“There’s no room for noble idiocy.” Was Alex’s icy reply as she turned to send a glare down the other side of the table, where Oliver sat by himself. “If he feels so bad, he should apologize and stick by her side like a true friend.”
“He doesn’t know what to do?” George responded, tiptoeing around the subject for fear of Alex’s wrath. “I dunno. You know how blokes are. We like to fix problems…find solutions to things. We aren’t observant enough to realize that sometimes, we just need to listen.”
Alex rolled her eyes.
“The only reason he knows this,” Fred whispered in an aside to me, “is because he tried to comfort Lindsey once – except of course, he tried to ‘fix’ whatever was the matter and ended up making things worse for the poor girl…”
George elbowed his brother, and Fred winked.
“Maybe he just needs some time?” George tried again.
“Time? He needs time?” Alex snorted loudly, and a couple of Sixth Years sent her a few dirty looks. “I don’t know why he needs time to sort out whatever the bloody hell he is thinking or feeling.”
“Oi, listen here,” Fred interjected, jabbing her in the ribs, “just because girls are allowed to be all feel-y and whatnot doesn’t mean that blokes can’t be complicated, too.”
“I never said men weren’t complicated.” She defended.
“But you implied that men are much simpler than women.”
“I never –”
“It’s no matter. Everything will work itself out in the end.” I interrupted, flashing a rather small smile at them. If I didn’t interrupt them, they’d argue until the world ended. I made to stand up. “My free period’s up, and I’ve got to go to Arithmancy.”
“Ah, so you’re going back to classes again?” Alex perked up at the words. “I’m glad. You didn’t seem quite like yourself when you were skipping.”
I shook my head her. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
At the other end of the table, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Oliver slam his book shut, stand up and toss his bag over his shoulder. With my heart beat suddenly quickening, I hastened towards the door so I wouldn’t have another awkward encounter with him. I knew my face was flushing, but his legs were so much longer than mine!
By the time I reached the hallway and made for the staircase, Oliver had caught up.
Our eyes met as he made to take the same staircase as me. The moment was fleeting, as he was much faster than me at taking the stairs. He took them two at a time as he took a sharp corner to take another set of stairs towards the fourth floor.
The staircase started to shift, and I just barely managed to hop off onto the landing before it had moved completely. I was annoyed at the moving staircases. They had shifted before I had gotten on the right one and the path I was currently on was not the path towards Arithmancy. It meant I had to double back and take a different route. Silently cursing the staircases, I moved to take a shortcut down a smaller set of stairs. It would take me down two flights so I could grab the correct staircase leading to Arithmancy.
I pulled aside the tapestry and followed the steps down before I collided with a person. I crashed into a chest, and arms suddenly wrapped around my body to keep me from falling. My schoolbag went tumbling down the steps as I took a wobbly step and found my foot stuck in the school’s trick step.
The pair of arms studied me, and as I tried to maintain my balance with one leg stuck within the trick step, I realized that the pair of toned arms belonged to a very familiar person.
“Oliver?!”
He almost jumped back, but couldn’t really because both of his feet had gotten stuck in the trick step.
“Hi…” He managed awkwardly, releasing his hold on me as I gripped the bannister for balance.
“W-What are you doing here?”
“Er,” Oliver looked embarrassed. “I…uh…” He took a breath and turned to look at me. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have class?”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know that I have class?”
Oliver tried to look nonchalant, but the furrowed brows gave him away. He shrugged his shoulders coolly. “I assumed.”
“Really?” I raised a brow. “Well, your assumption is correct.” The conversation stopped there, and we just sort of stared at each other for a bit, unsure of what to say. “This is so…awkward…” I murmured to myself, shifting my body slightly away from him. Being in such close proximity was making me very nervous.
Oliver might’ve been feeling the same way because he was trying to inch away the best he could, but since he couldn’t really, Oliver just settled for leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He fidgeted, slightly, his fingers tapping on his forearm, his eyes determined not to meet mine.
“I, er,” I stumbled through the beginning of my sentence, “have never actually heard of anyone stuck on this trip step before…”
“Neville Longbottom often gets stuck here.” Oliver replied.
“Who?”
“He’s a boy in our House. A few years younger?”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
The conversation stopped again, but picked up a few moments after when Oliver cleared his throat loudly and inquired, “Do you know how to get out of this trick step?”
I tried lifting my foot out of the step, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, I seemed to almost sink further into it. “Clearly, just pulling yourself out isn’t the way to go about this…”
“I’ve tried that already.” Oliver replied. “I was taking the stairs too quickly and went feet first into it. Tried lifting one of my legs out afterwards, but it only caused my right foot to sink deeper than my left foot. It’s a rather strange feeling to be so lopsided…”
I couldn’t help but laugh at our predicament. “In all my seven years at Hogwarts, I’ve never once had to take this way before. I mean, I knew it existed since everyone does, but I never really had to take it before…”
“Me either, truthfully.”
Our eyes met for a second, and I felt my stomach gurgling in a very unfamiliar way. He looked away before I did. “What should we do?”
“What can we do?” was the inquiry from Oliver, his voice slightly gruffer than it was moments ago. His face seemed to have taken on the guise of annoyance. “We can’t stay here all day and night.”
“No, that wouldn’t be very enjoyable…” I agreed, trying to keep my tone pleasant despite his changing facial expressions. “If we yelled for help, do you think anyone would hear us?”
Oliver looked at me for a second, and then looked down the steps. “This should be a pretty popular staircase…right?”
“It’s hidden by a bloody tapestry, though…”
“I would either wait here for someone to help us or try to yell for help?”
“Frankly, neither option sounds very good right now.” I sighed. “I’ve got to get to Arithmancy. I’ve skipped some classes already and I need to turn in my assignments…”
“You’ve been skipping Arithmancy classes?”
My lips lifted themselves into a small smile. I couldn’t help it! The boy looked absolutely befuddled. “Such a tone of surprise! Is it such a shock for me to not go to class? I’m sure Fred, George and Alex had the same reaction when I told them.”
“It’s just very…unlike you.” Was Oliver’s response.
“What do you know about me?” I asked softly, using my free foot to angle myself away from him. “Everyone always seems to know so much about my character…”
Oliver didn’t respond to that. He tried turning away again, but couldn’t, and instead, moved to sit on the step above us, his feet still stuck in the damned step.
We were together silently for maybe another ten minutes before either of us tried to converse again. Surprisingly, Oliver was the one who spoke. “Have you been sleeping well? You’ve been looking rather tired lately.”
His words caught me by surprise. How had he been noticing anything about me? About my demeanor or behavior? We hadn’t spoken, or had really faced each other at all. I cleared my throat, my face still turned away from him. “I’ve been sleeping all right.”
There was another pause, but Oliver was quick to pick up the conversation. “LookcharI’mablodidiot...” The sentence was said so quickly that it sort of slurred together as a jumble of sounds.
“Excuse me?” Quickly, I glanced back at him, and saw Oliver’s face pale and then redden.
“Look,” he took a deep breath, “Charlotte, I’m a bloody idiot.” His face was still red as he continued.
“Is this about you avoiding me all this time?” I could have left his pride alone, but I didn’t want to. Not when I was the one who was having my name pulled through the mud. “Or about how somehow, I was dragged into your little row with Isabella?”
“Don’t say that I wasn’t considering your feelings.” Oliver pleaded before I could say exactly that. “Because I did. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to drag you further into anything.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing consideration.” I managed. I could have raised my voice and yelled at him, which was what I think he was expecting, but I didn’t. He looked surprised at my matter-of-fact tone, and rather afraid of it as well. “You left me alone when I needed a friend the most.”
“I’m a rubbish person.” Oliver hung his head. “I didn’t know what to do or how to handle a situation like this. I feel absolutely terrible about it.”
I sighed deeply.
“The more I tried to understand and fix what was going on, the more awkward it got when I saw you and I just…it was just easier to avoid rather than confront…I’m sorry, Charlotte. I’m a bloody idiot.”
The apology brought a smile to my lips. It had taken him a bit to get to it, but he had gotten there in the end. I reached over and put both of my arms on his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “I suppose Fred and George were right about why you were avoiding me.”
“What did they say?” Oliver looked intrigued.
“Something about noble idiocy.” I laughed. “Well, Alex sort of put it together as such, but they were the ones who were trying to make us understand things from your point of view.”
“Things ended so hideously with Isabella,” he shook his head. “Never in my wildest dreams did I expect things to end like that – or even, really, to go in that sort of direction at all!”
“I don’t know how my name got dragged into the fray…” I told him seriously, barely noticing the reddening of his cheeks and a sudden spark in his eye. I assumed he was still embarrassed about the whole situation. “It was so random and completely without evidence.”
Oliver made a noise I took for agreement. “She went absolutely mad towards the end of it. I didn’t even know what was happening most of the time. And I feel bad, though, because I should have spent more time trying to understand what she was going on about but everything was happening so quickly and I had so many things to do…”
“Stop blaming yourself.” I interrupted, giving my eyes a roll. I was pleased that the awkwardness had subsided and we had gone back to our usual conversations. “You were just trying to be a normal person with priorities.”
“She was so bloody jealous of everything…” Oliver shook his head. “I felt bad at first, because I thought I understood why she was feeling abandoned and I tried to make more time for her…but there was just no winning! Nothing pleased her. If it wasn’t one thing, it would be another thing!”
“Ah,” I nodded. “If it hadn’t been my name that had popped into her head at the moment, it probably would have been someone else’s, eh? Glad to know that chance managed to throw me into the rumor mill alive.”
Oliver’s expression changed a bit, but he didn’t comment on anything, but rather continued what he had been saying. “I realized a few weeks before the actual row that I was honestly just staying with Isabella because I felt bad for her – isn’t that awful? I felt awful. I felt like a fool and a loser and a real jerk. I never wanted to drag someone along – I never wanted to be in a relationship with someone I didn’t like.”
“Did you ever love her?” I don’t know what pressed me to ask, but something did. And as soon as the words were out, a small part of me regretted ever wanting to know.
“I thought I did for so long.” Oliver mused, pondering the thought for a couple moments. “But I was more intoxicated with the idea of her, only because I had fancied her for so long. We had very little in common and even less conversation.”
“They tell me that communication is key.” My lips twitched.
“I suppose they are right.”
Our eyes met again.
“I really am sorry, Charlotte.”
“It’s okay.” The words came out softer than I had anticipated. I hadn’t realized my voice could sound like this. “It’s good to know that our friendship has been restored.”
“Friendship…” Oliver’s voice took on that strange sound again. “We’re good friends, aren’t we?”
I allowed myself to grin at him, and put my hands on my hips. “We are very good friends, Oliver.”
A strange feeling washed over me as the words left my mouth. The sentence left a strange after taste. Bitter? I couldn’t put my finger on it. As I saw him smile in return, a small part of me felt…disappointed.
Disappointed?
“Will you go to the Quidditch game?” Oliver’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“The Quidditch game.” He blinked twice. “You know, the final game of the year…against Slytherin…” Oliver coughed. “The game I’ve been preparing my whole life for…”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes a bit. Of course. “When is it?”
“Tomorrow.” His voice changed again, sounded a bit hopeful but also…
“Tomorrow?” It was my turn to look at him blankly. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes…”
“Sorry, it’s just…rather last minute.”
Oliver cleared his throat, looking awkward again. “I said I was sorry…”
“I’m joking,” I grinned. “I’ll go, Oliver.”
He looked confused again, like he had expected to be let down. “What? You will? Really?!”
“Really.”
We looked at each other again, and I felt a serene feeling of peace fall over me. I was surprised how quickly we adjusted to being comfortable with each other again. There were no more awkward pauses or jumbled small talk.
We would have been stuck in that trick step all day if Professor Lupin hadn’t lifted up the curtain, intending to take the small staircase down two flights himself. He didn’t look very well, his skin pale and his lips cracked, but he smiled when he saw us.
“Stuck in the trick step, I see.”
“A notable observation, sir,” I laughed.
“Do you know how to get us out?”
“Of course.” Lupin half chuckled and half coughed. “Tried to take the shortcut for class, eh?”
“Unfortunately, it was the wrong day to be not paying attention…”
“Not when you’re encountering this particular staircase.” Lupin grinned again, a strange sparkle in his eye. “But I really must be going.” He made to leave.
“Sir! Sir!” Oliver called, “You haven’t told us how to get out of here!”
“Oh, sorry,” Lupin paused a moment, as if contemplating whether to help us out. “But you really don’t need my help at all.”
“What?”
Lupin’s eyes were still sparkling. “You’ve just got to stand still enough to give a little tug!” He stated it as if it were obvious.
At that, I stopped struggling for a moment and felt the step tighten its hold on my leg slightly before loosening its grip. I gave it a quick tug and my leg came out of the step and rested on the one under it.
“Have a nice day, Mister Wood, Miss Murray.” And he paused again, and replied pointedly, “And you two, please stop skipping your classes.”
And like that, Professor Lupin descended the staircase without another word and disappeared.
“Hold still, Oliver,” I steadied him with my arms to stop his squirming. “It’s like a Chinese Finger Trap. Once you’ve stopped struggling, just let the step grip onto your leg.”
Oliver stilled, “I don’t know what a Chinese Finger Trap is but I feel it squeezing my legs like a fist…at the same time, it also feels like I’m sinking deeper into it…”
“It’s also like…like…” I wracked my brain to find another comparison. “Quick sand? Just still yourself for a second.”
“I’m trying.”
“Okay, now, when you feel it loosen up a little, leap up.”
“I think it’s loosening.”
“On the count of three, okay?”
Oliver nodded.
“One…” Oliver steadied himself with both hands on the bannister. “Two…” He squatted down a little, making sure not to move too much. “Three!” Oliver launched himself into the air, finally free, and fell down the steps.
“My arse…” Oliver stood up, very near the bottom of the staircase, and rubbed his bruised bottom. “That was awful. I am never taking this staircase again.”
I could have brought up him avoiding me again, but I was too pleased that we were talking again to care. I scooped up our things and handed him his book bag when I had reached him.
“So you’re really coming to the Quidditch match tomorrow?”
“I said I would, wouldn’t I?”
Oliver grinned like I had never seen him grin before. “I’m glad, Charlotte.”
His smile was contagious and I found myself grinning as well. “Me, too, Oliver.”
Author's Note: I've completely run out of excuses. On a better note, I have achieved my goal this year! I've finished this story! Well, I've finished writing it out. It's just been sitting on my computer, waiting for me to put on here and I haven't been able to get myself to do it.
But here it is. Chapter 27, with 28, 29 and 30 and an epilogue on the way.
I have the most patient readers in the entire world and I am forever thankful for every single one of you. :)
http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com