Chapter 5 : True Colors
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 23|
Background: Font color:
Best friends leaving to ex-colonies 1, Louis’ in major strops 1, level of embarrassment over previous nights behaviour 8 (out of 10), Cigarettes 0 as am properly quitting (combine feelings of suffering and abandonment into one fell swoop.)
11 a.m. Bedroom, House.
“Go away – I’m not coming out!”
“If you don’t come out right now I’m getting Victoire!”
“You will not.”
“Oh just watch me mate.”
There was a brief silence, punctuated by stomping feet, then a scream. “Victoire, get over here now!”
Really hate Dominique sometimes. I mean seriously – just because I’ve locked myself in my room, that’s no reason to go and get Vic. Not like I always do what she says or anything. Besides, if I want to sulk because my best friend has decided she wants to live in Australia that’s my prerogative. Bloody well should be anyway.
Suddenly a slightly more conciliatory voice. “Louis? What’s going on?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it.”
Could almost hear the eyes rolling on the other side of the door.
“Louis, do you remember what my job is?”
Of course I bloody did. Victoire Weasley, the best Curse-Breaker Gringotts has had since, well, Dad.
Merely grunted in return. Couldn’t let her have it all her own way.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Now don’t you think that all those ancient societies, the Egyptians, the Incans, might know a bit more about warding than you?”
Did indeed think that. Wasn’t going to agree with her though. Besides, I’d put a reasonable effort into these, she’d at least have to work for it. “I’m not letting you in,” I snapped.
The door popped open with a click. Victoire strode in, and sat down next to self on bed with a small smile. “Not a bad effort, definitely stronger than I thought, should come work for us sometime.”
Felt self starting to smile. Bloody Victoire and her niceness.
“I told Dom to fuck off as well,” she offered further. “Didn’t go down too well, mind.”
Definitely got a smile from self with that one. The insanity of bossing Dominique around just downright admirable.
“What did she do?” I grinned.
“Took flouncing to a whole new level. Wish I could do that thing with my hair – you know, how it just like, whips. Anyway – she’s gone, so spill.”
“Look, Sam’s been crying in her room all morning, won’t tell any of us what’s going on, you’ve locked yourself up, just… what’s going on?”
Felt chin beginning to wobble. Crying in front of oldest sister has potential to reach levels of humiliation previously unknown. “She’sgoingtoMelbourne.”
“She’s going to fucking Melbourne!”
Okay, so maybe shouldn’t have shouted. Victoire at least trying to be nice.
She said it in such tones of sadness and understanding that heart broke all over again. Not due to romantic feelings obviously. Is possible for heart to break over friends. Am clearly proof. Both sat in silence for a minute. Decided to voice thoughts.
“I’m being a complete dick about it aren’t I?”
“Do you want the honest answer or the supportive sister answer?”
Glared at her. Implication that there was a fairly clear difference not appreciated, no matter how apparent said clear difference was.
“Do you think you could manage a bit of both?”
“Wait, why’s she actually going to Melbourne?”
This was a fair point. Hard to get advice and/or critique from sister if she doesn’t know what she’s meant to be critiquing.
“She’s got a really, really, good job offer there. Said something about some exchange, cross paper, horizon broadening thing…”
Shot look nothing short of disgust by Victoire. Returned to previous state of sulking.
“Let me get this straight. Your best friend in the entire world gets offered some unbelievable job, the sort of thing she’s probably always wanted – and you’ve run off, had a cry and generally made life horrible for her since. Does that sound about right?”
Found self unable to look at her.
“Merlin, Louis – I mean, it’s just sad is all.”
She stood up, the bed slightly lifting with her. “I’m going, don’t particularly feel like looking at you right now.”
“Don’t even try it mate, you go and sort this out with her right now. I’m going home.”
Threw head into hands dramatically, let out a yell that was both half-hearted and muffled by hideous Weasley jumper. Ended up more pitiful moan than roar of anguish.
Beyond evidently clear that form had been poor and would have to talk to Sam. Attempted further anguished howl that ended in much the same way as the first attempt.
11.32. a.m. Outside Sam’s door. Bloody horribly scary this is.
11.37.a.m. Still outside Sam’s door. “Either get in here or fuck off, Louis!”
Sam never swears. Not good sign. Not good at all. Slowly, tentatively opened the door – wincing at the squeak. Whipped wand from pocket and sorted hinges out. Hate that noise.
“Sammy?” I called tentatively, pushing the now silent door before me. Mouth may have somewhat dropped at the sight. She was sitting in her bed, knees drawn up to her chin, covers pulled up to same, hair frazzled, eyes blotchy and red. Complete, genuine picture of misery.
“What do you fucking want?”
“I just –“
Stopped short, realising I didn’t actually know how to say what it was I needed to.
She was spitting the words. Painful, violent barbs.
“Jesus, Louis. This is something I really want you know? Do you know how small the Wizarding media is? It’s tiny. This could be my way in, really properly in. And of course it’s going to be hard, and I’ll miss you terribly. It’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I have to do it. And I need you to understand, because if you don’t I don’t know if I’ll be able to go, I just… won’t.”
Looking at her - bedraggled, dishevelled, frighted, I’d never loved her more.
Finally voiced thoughts – realising with horror that tears were definitely beginning to trickle down own cheeks. “I’m scared. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”
“But… why, how could you possibly think that?”
“Just…” resorted to muttering. “What if you meet a guy and never come back?”
“Is that really what’s worrying you?”
“Yes, of course!”
Realise said fear is completely irrational, but there you have it.
She sighed, a wry, if slight, smile spreading across her face. “It’s always going to be like this you know? That’s the thing about us being friends. You don’t think I get jealous every time I see you pining after Annah?”
Looked at her, horrified, hoping beyond hope she wasn’t saying what I thought she was.
“Oh God, no, not that at all. I love you Louis, just not like that at all. Doesn’t make it any easier to see you with anyone else though. Because I know they aren’t as good for you, they aren’t as good as me. And look at you, jealous of someone who doesn’t even exist. But, we’re going to have to deal with it – we just will. And I mean seriously, I’m only just nineteen! Did you really think I was just going to meet some godly surfer, marry him and never come back?”
Realised tears were drying up on both sides. “I know it sounds crazy, really, I do. But, like, I just don’t know what I’m going to do when you’re not here… that’s all.”
Tears started falling from her eyes again. “Oh come here,” she muttered, throwing her covers aside and patting the place next to her.
Not having any shoes or the like to kick off, merely slipped into bed next to her – scooping her up in manly arms of manliness.
“We’ll be alright, won’t we?” I asked, realising just how awfully hopeless own voice sounded.
“Yeah. We’ll be alright.”
Cravings (for cigarettes) excessive, Sulking Louis’ ½ (still am, but realise is selfish and unreasonable,) alcohol units 3 (work-ish meeting so barely counts if at all)
12.35 p.m. Red Lion. Annah after having been largely absent over past few days (some fashion show mentioned) decided upon return that it was high time meeting with Thomas Thomas went down. Further decided it would be me doing the meeting. Very unfortunate she’s so pretty. And amazing. And smart. And… stopping.
Looked around somewhat apprehensively. Usual mixture of the spectacularly hungover twenty-somethings and the spectacularly wholesome families. Always good value, the Lion. Thomas Thomas walked through the door, hailed him rather unenthusiastically.
Received mere nod in return. Good to know wasn’t the only one in sulking.
“What’s up with you?”
This time received grunt. Clear progress being made with subject.
“You might as well just tell me.”
“Alrigh’, fine. My girl broke up with me, then your crazy bitch of a sister makes me come and talk to you. Happy?”
“Sounds like me, best friend’s heading off to Australia, not a whole lot of fun.”
“Want a drink?”
“Yeah, I do, actually, I’ll get ‘em – what’s on tap fine with you?”
“All good, man.”
Stood up realising that while conversation not exactly flying along, progress at least being made. Ever so casually strolled over to the bar, drummed fingers until spotted by the barman.
“Hey mate, what can I get you?”
“Just a couple of pints of whatever you’ve got on tap.”
“That’ll be 8 quid, thanks.”
Under pretence of fishing through pocket for money, grabbed wand and Transfigured couple of beer-mats into five pound notes which slid in barman's direction. Looked faintly puzzled, then took the money – gave me the change and got to the pouring.
Returned to the table with the two pints, didn’t spill anything – always a mild relief.
Planted one in front of Thomas. “Thanks.”
Leaned back on bench, took a sip. Kept sipping when realised had nothing to say.
“Alrigh’, let’s just get this over with, yeah?”
Nodded in agreement. Far too much manly head-nodding type communications going on.
“What is it you want from me, exactly? Like, I mean, I dunno how to help you or whatever. And that scary bird, your sister, right? Well… she’s scary, man!”
“Yeah, that’s Dominique for you. I think she enjoys it actually. Anyway, you know what we’re trying to do, right? Change of leadership in the party before the election. Dom and Annah are the ones really pushing it – they’ve basically chosen Terry Boot, you know him? Right – well, we need to get him anything you’ve got. Need stuff that undercuts the PM, so in party meetings Terry can just completely show him up. Get me?”
“Err… yeah, I think so. Okay, okay, you know this whole thing with the vampires?”
Rolled eyes impatiently. Clearly the pleb hadn’t seen my v. moving and inspirational speech to the, well, journalists – but still! It was all sorts of epic.
“Umm… yeah! Didn’t you see my speech?”
Stopped talking when realised was sounding like teenage girl. American teenage girl. From California or similar. Not attractive look for figure of own stature – even if said stature virtually non-existent.
“Yeah, yeah I did, actually,” he replied. Felt self blink in surprise. “You were a bit sloppy in places, could have done with some tightening up. But really, strong on the message – sold the idea, thought it was good.”
“Five minutes,” I noted with a smile that even to self felt horribly smug. “Wait, so what were you going to say?”
“Oh – well, you know the Vampire Killers? He’s going to bring them back.”
A/N: I am SO sorry this has taken so long –grovels in apology.- Might be a while until the next one actually, am attempting NaNo so wish me luck! Please do review, if you want to know anything or just feel like popping by for a chat please do stop by my MTA thread. And… that’s it really. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading! Oh - and in case you're wondering why I spelled 'colours''colors' in the title; it's the song title so am just going with that. And that's REALLY it this time =]
Chapter now beta'd by kaityb and GubraithianFire. Thanks kids! You're both pretty much amazing XD
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
by B Wood
Color Me Won...