When I was little, around 5 or 6, I used to dream about the day I received my Head Girl badge. Most little girls dreamed of being princesses, but not me….my aspirations went something like this: Slytherin, Prefect, Head Girl, and Minister of Magic. That was my plan, my foil-proof plan.
My foil-proofed plan was foiled that day Sirius Potter became Head Boy. It was like the prestige of getting the title was soiled, mainly because they were now giving it away to just anybody. Sure his grades were second best to mine, but he never studied. Never.
And he has been in detention 264 times. I’m not sure, but to my knowledge that’s a Hogwarts Record. Not to mention he was never a Prefect, he terrorized prefects. So I have no clue what McGonagall is thinking, or maybe the problem is that she’s not thinking.
But the point is, when some Ministry official is reviewing my records and she’s that I was Head Girl alongside James Potter, future Azkaban attendant, than they’ll just think, ‘Obviously it was a bad year for students and wine’. Then my big folder of accomplishments will be given a rejection seal, and it’ll be bye-bye Minister of Magic title.
As I was sitting and pondering the shambles that is now my life, my mother was trying to assuage my breakdown.
“Darling, it’s not that bad. You’re head girl; you wanted this for so long. You’re not going to let Sirius take this away from you, are you?” she said in that tone that always calmed me.
“I know what you’re thinking and I’m not being too dramatic- but he hates me, Mum. How can I work with him, when we hate each other?”
“Anaya, you know the story we told you about how your father and I fell in love with each other, right?” Mum said while sweeping away one of my newly red curls.
I nodded, unsure what this had to do with anything.
“You guys won the war together and eventually became more than friends.” I stated, having heard the rather banal story a million times over the years.
“Well, we lied. Your father and I won the war together alright, but there was still one brewing between the two of us. We absolutely loathed each other!” she admitted.
I couldn’t believe it, they seemed so sappy all of the time. I can’t even fathom how they got together, and then flashes of Marriage Laws and forced wedding contracts attacked me.
“You guys weren’t forced to marry were you?” I asked tentatively.
Mum laughed out loud, her beautiful hazel eyes lighting up her perfect face.
I am so lucky I have that to look forward to when I am 40.
“No, darling, nothing like that. Actually we were forced to work together. It was the first year the ministry had started the Aurour/Healer decree. And your father and I were paired. We were both fuming. The first time I had to heal him, he made me so angry that I left his apartment without my wand in the middle of the night. Then I was almost raped by a death eater and your father saved me. After that we had decided to be friends. It was going okay until Draco had to leave for three weeks on a mission. When he came back, Harry was at his door and he was trashing his apartment. Then I found out that your grandfather was found to be alive and he had hurt Narcissa- and that Draco had killed him. I calmed Draco down and we kissed…and things progressed from there”
In other words, they had mad-monkey sex.
I sat there, absorbing the story.
“Honey, do you get what I’m trying to tell you?”
“That the only way Potter and I will get along is if I’m almost raped?” I asked dully.
“No! That despite whatever tension is brewing in between you two, that you will find a way to work it out.” she said in her resolved tone.
I hated her resolved tone- it insinuated that she had solved something, which she hadn’t. There is no way Potter and I are ever going to get along. But to get her to be quiet, I nodded my head and smiled.
“Thanks, mum”, I said as I hugged her. She giggled.
“That’s what I’m here for, dear.” she said as she rose from my bed and left out the room.
Soon as she left, my fake smile dropped and I dropped back down on the bed, thinking about when it all went wrong.
The funny thing is, when Potter and I were younger- we were inseparable. We went everywhere together. Everywhere.
The most vivid memory is when we were seven and Sirius had the ‘brilliant’ idea to go adventuring in the woods. We ended up getting lost and by nightfall a huge thunderstorm had emerged. We were standing near a tree, when it was struck by lightening and burst into flames. I still have nightmares about it.
We were found cuddling on the forest floor, and we wouldn’t let go of each other. In the following year, whenever a thunder storm came, we’d floo to each other’s houses and to sleep in the same bed. We couldn’t go to sleep otherwise. Now, whenever a thunderstorm happens, I just stay awake all night reading.
It all went wrong in our first year. Despite our promises to remain best friends forever, we started to drift apart. Mainly, because I was a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor. Not to say we didn’t put up a valiant fight. For the first two weeks of school we awkwardly sat at each other’s table. But then one day, Sirius was laughing with a group of boys as I walked over to his table timidly.
I could still see his little cocky face, staring smugly up at me.
“Sirius?” I had greeted him feebly.
“What do you want, snake?” he had asked, his little face twisting into a bestial mask. The boys behind him burst into jeering laughter. Students from the surrounding tables were starting to stare at us.
“Siri, it’s me, Nya. Why are you being this way?” I had asked, near tears.
“Why are you such a know-it-all, bushy haired freak?” he shot back at me. Instantly all of my humiliation and sadness morphed into rage.
“Freak! Me! At least I didn’t wet the bed until…hey! You’re STILL wetting the bed!” I had yelled.
“I…I….I do not…” he stuttered in shock. I smirked down at him.
“You sound so convincing. Pity your parents dropped you on your head as a baby. Being a Potter and all, you could have done great things.” I had said sarcastically, my smug smirk embellishing my face.
And just like that our life long friendship had ended. The next six years was spent in countless arguments and duels. It only got worse when we both became seekers in our third year. In total, Potter gave me 14 injuries. But that’s alright, because I’ve gave him 37. It was always awkward when we were forced to spend every holiday together, too.
The funny thing is that we still defend each other. When one of our old Professors leered at me, Potter had come to my defense- seeing as he was the only witness. And when I overheard one of his many girlfriends plotting on marrying him for fame and money, I let her have it. Despite us hating each other, we still cared about each other; which led us into a mixture of frenemies. We were content with that title. It’s just that the enemy part made way more appearances that the ‘friends’ part.
And this year, we are going to be thrust together to live in one space.
Sighing, I rose from my bed and went to write a letter to my best friend, Nalina Zabini. We had become friends after the Potter incident back in our first year. She had comforted me and soon we became best friends. She was the friend I ever had that was a girl. She had introduced me to Carine Carterson and Susannah Parkinson and we all hit it off well. Soon, we built our own little empire inside of Hogwarts with all the said titles: most Popular, most gorgeous, most intelligent, most- likely to succeed and all that jazz. The only people, who rivaled us, were, in fact, were Potter’s little cronies.
I vented in the letter about my ruined birthday and the Head boy issue. Also I threw in that Potter had ruined all the fun of having red hair.
Sighing, I looked in the mirror and did the spell to change my curly hair back to its originally color of platinum blonde.
And this year, I was stuck with Potter’s prat Posse. Great.
Author’s Note: Yes, I have finally started the Sequel to Fulfilling the Loneliness! I am so happy about this. I’ve been having so many great ideas on how this is going to go. And I’ve made a new schedule for myself…Friday: write Australian Getaway, Saturday: Write this story, and Sunday: Write Bound in Matrimony. I work well with schedules and this way I won’t just be writing randomly- which usually means huge hiatuses. But a schedule, I can stick to! I’m really excited about this story, and my outline is great. I can’t wait to get into the thick of things. Alright, that’s all for now. Chao!