Chapter 6 : Bane of My Existence
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awe, isn't petey cute?? this amazing chp image is also by aphrodite. @ tda
"I don't have pet peeves, I have whole kennels of irritation."
I ran into the common room after my laughing fit had died down. I was not sticking around to talk to either Sirius or Jeremy. Screw the both of them, to be honest.
In my haste to get to my room, I ended up running headfirst into Peter. Being that Peter is quite unbalanced most of the time, he flew backwards onto the floor, his blonde hair flopping over into his eyes. I quickly made my way over to him and pulled him back onto his feet.
“Oh, Petey, I’m so sorry,” I apologised, patting imaginary dirt off of his back.
Peter chuckled, “It’s fine, Didi. This isn’t the worst thing you’ve done to me so I’m just glad it wasn’t another Dungbomb in the shower.”
If I had been a cartoon, there would have been a light bulb appearing over my head. Dungbomb in the shower… Dungbomb in Sirius’ shower… Oh, how I loved my namesake!
“Didi, you okay?” Peter shook me out of my scheming. My eyes focused back onto his face and smiled.
“Brilliant, actually, Petey,” I winked.
“Oh no, you have that look in your eyes,” Peter stared at me and began to back away. “Do not get me involved! You are nearly as bad as the rest of the Marauders… every time, one of them gets that look, I’m always the one in trouble!”
“Petey, would I ever get you into trouble?” I smiled sweetly at him. He nodded and was about to respond, probably to list all the times I did get him into trouble so I cut him off instead. “Never mind, do not answer that!”
He chuckled again. “So what happened? You looked pretty irritated when you came in plus your hair’s sticking out and your face is all red.”
I subconsciously touched my hair. Merlin, I really hated how well he knew me. He probably knew me better than Dorcas or at least knew my facial expressions better than anyone I know. So I could never lie to Peter, it was way too difficult—not morally, but because I could never get away with it.
“Oh, you know this idiot boy named Sirius Black, you might know him. He looks like a prat,” I groaned. “And this other idiot boy that I happened to date.”
“Sirius isn’t a prat, but I agree that Jeremy is,” Peter sighed at me.
I wanted to smack him. Yeah, Sirius may be your best friend, but can’t you just see how much of a dick he really is, Pete? He’s a jerk! Ugh! Why does no one else see this but me? Why does no one else (excluding Slytherins) want to rip his head off?
“Who are we talking about?” piped up a voice from behind me. I whirled around to find James and Remus looking at me curiously.
“Jeremy being a prat,” Peter responded. I mentally smacked him in the face. Yup, I hope you felt that mentally, Peter Pettigrew!
“Ooh! Yeah, he is!” Remus agreed. “I mean I know I’m not one to talk badly about people,” James tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh, which promptly ended up with him being tripped to the floor. “As I was saying, I really don’t, but Deora, he’s a massive prat!”
“Why is he such a prat?” I queried. I know why, but why do they think he’s a prat?
“We have our reasons,” James said mysteriously from the floor.
“What? You’re not going to tell me why you lot hate my ex so much?” I stared wide-eyed at them.
“Yup,” all three of them said in unison.
“Ugh, ridiculous,” I groaned, throwing my hands up in the air. I cannot believe this! Ever since I broke up with Jeremy, they’ve been telling me nonstop how much of a prat he is, and now, they won’t even tell me why.
I flipping hate the boys in this school!
I curled up closer to him. My movement seemed to have stirred my dad awake as he enveloped me into a tighter hug. I was a daddy’s girl through and through. I looked up to my dad and everything he did was amazing. He was a big and burly sort of man with a moustache that seemed to say ‘don’t mess with me’, but I knew better. He was the sweetest most caring man in the world and I loved him.
“Daddy?” I whispered into his shirt.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice still groggy from sleep.
“You’ll never leave me, right?” I asked him. I looked up into his eyes and saw my own reflection. I was a small kid, small for six years old, and kids picked on me for that.
“Never, honey,” he looked at me seriously. “I will never ever leave you or your brothers or your mum.”
“But you love me bestest?” I asked again.
He winked down at me, “don’t tell the rest of them,” then he kissed me softly on my forehead.
If I had my daddy, I would be fine. Kids can pick on me all they want. If I had my daddy, I was invincible.
I woke up with a start; beads of sweat trickling down my face. I hated falling asleep, every time I did, I’d dream of him and the pain would just come crashing back on me.
The worst part was that they weren’t even dreams, but memories. Memories that I sometimes wish I could forget… just to avoid the pain of remembering.
But they were lodged in my mind, and one by one, they were being pulled to the forefront of my brain, replaying itself in my head like a broken down cinema. It was as if my body was forcing me to remember, telling me to never forget… How could I forget the only man I will ever look up to? It wasn’t something that was easily done nor was it something I wanted to do. Still, this wasn’t healthy. I needed to move on and I felt like every step I take forward, the moment I fall asleep I take five steps backwards.
The memories were always good ones. Happy memories. Loving memories. This particular memory was one of my favourites.
It had been a chilly day, chilly for September that is, and Kieran had given me his jacket at school. An eight-year-old’s jacket would look huge on any six-year-old, but on me, it had looked exceedingly silly. I was a runt. I had always been a runt, ever since birth. The Healers had told Mum that I had a very low chance of surviving the night, but I fought through it. Still, I rejected a lot of the milk Mum used to feed me as a babe and as I grew, I rejected a lot of the food I was given. My body couldn’t handle it and my growth was stunted. I was tiny for a six-year-old and due to this, I was picked on a lot at school.
However, that one chilly day was the worst. They pulled at my plaits, called me names like weakling and runt, which weren’t all too bad. But for a six-year-old, they were cutting. I hid from the teachers at lunch break that day, it wasn’t so hard to do when you were small and overlooked. Once everyone had gone back into the classrooms, I ran home to find my daddy still there. The moment he saw my tear-stained face, he had scooped me up in his arms and cuddled me into his chest while we sat on the lounger. He didn’t have to ask what happened, he knew and even at that age, he knew I was too proud to ever complain about it.
Mum had gone to Auntie May’s that day and no one else was home but Dad and I, and it was one of the happiest memories I had with him. It was one of those memories that created a soft warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was one of those memories that made me long for my daddy…
“Dee, are you okay?” Mary asked quietly staring at my grief-stricken face. I was sitting bolt upright in bed staring at the wall, my eyes not moving its focus on the small spot on the wall. I was rigid and numb.
I somehow managed to find my voice, “no, not really.” I wanted to lie, but the lie got stuck in my throat.
She moved quickly to sit next to me on my bed. Mary pulled the covers over her own legs and then proceeded to put a comforting arm around my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Did I? I wasn’t too sure.
Mary looked at me and gave me a warm smile, a smile befitting that of a saint. If there was one person in the world that I could count on to always stay true and pure and loyal, it was Mary. She was good. There was no other way you could describe her. Mary MacDonald was good. Not like she had good grades and stayed out of detention, but she was just genuinely a good person.
“Deora, if you don’t want to talk, it’s okay,” she said in that toffee-sweet voice. “I just want you to know I’m always here, we all are,” she then gestured to the two now wide-awake girls. Lily nodded her head softly and smiled while Dorcas waved goofily at me.
“Thank you girls,” I nearly choked on those three words. I wasn’t one for sentimental mushy moments, but I truly believed that these girls would be there for me through everything, through this sodding war, and through our old ages together. Yeah, I was optimistic that we were all going to survive this war, so what?
“Awe, she’s going to blubber, let’s Dumbledore-hug her!” Dorcas cried out as she pounced onto my bed. ‘Dumbledore-hug’ was a type of hug invented by Dorcas in the third year when she went on a tangent about how she reckoned Professor Dumbledore gave the best hugs. Ever since then whenever one of us was feeling down, we’d all cry out ‘Dumbledore-hug’ and then jumped on the other girl.
This morning, it was apparently my turn.
Mary was the first to wrap her arms around my side. She then nestled her head into the crook of my neck while Dorcas pounced onto my legs and grabbed me by the waist. We all turned to look at Lily expectedly. She laughed, the soft sound echoing in the confines of our dormitory. She stood there, contemplating which angle to hug me from when suddenly, she ran around and threw herself at my backside, managing to topple all of us over in the process. We fell over onto my bed then due to the excessive amount of shrieking and laughing, the four of us slid straight off of it. We laid there, our limbs intertwined with each other, with my head resting on Lily’s lap. We giggled away like ten-year-olds for what felt like hours.
“We should get dressed soon, we have about a half hour left of breakfast,” Lily announced.
“Oh, what’s the point? The boys have probably ate the entire table,” Dorcas groaned.
“Come on, lazy, let’s go!” Lily stood up quickly, allowing my head to smack loudly onto the cold wooden floor.
Thanks, Lils, I thought, glaring at her.
She looked down at me and gave me an apologetic face before turning back to Dorcas. “Food or not, we need to get dressed for class, Dorky!”
“Do not call me that!” Dorcas threatened, getting up onto her feet as well.
Lily ran towards the bathroom, “why not, Dorky? Dorky dork dorkapalooosaa—agghhh!! Get off me, you twit!” and then the door slammed shut to Dorcas and Lily fighting in our bathroom.
Mary and I exchanged a glance and burst out laughing.
“You need to apologise to him,” Aunt Helena said as soon as we were alone in the corridor.
“Who?” I asked dumbly.
“Sirius, Deora,” she answered sternly. Although, she had quite an airy and youthful (not to mention feminine) voice, her way of speaking reminded me so much of my dad. Especially when she says things sternly, it sounded exactly like my dad when he was mad at Kieran, Albert or me.
“Do I have to?” I pleaded with her.
I’ve really hit a new low, haven’t I? I’m sodding pleading to a locket. I could have just easily not put it on this morning, but frankly, I was starting to grow attached to it, to my aunt. It was nice to know I was never alone. Also, irritating… like now.
“Yes, you have to!” she cried out. “Deora, you were well rude to him last night and you obviously hit a soft spot!”
“Meh, Sirius Black has no soft spot,” I snorted.
“Everyone has a soft spot,” she said quietly. I hated when she made sense, but even more so, I hated the idea that I had to apologise to Sirius. I didn’t think this would make any difference whatsoever and the only thing it seemed to be doing was putting me in a dark mood.
I walked into Potions with my eyes downcast to avoid making eye contact with anyone. I don’t really apologise to people, you see. I have a hard time being the bigger person. I am generally quite petty and well, this is just awkward.
I swiftly made my way to my seat in the back. Sirius was already there with his back towards me. He was flirting with that pretty redhead from the other night.
That’s how I recognised her!
I’ve been sitting at the table next to her for weeks now and I only just noticed her existence. Merlin, I really needed to start paying attention to other people and remembering names. I was certain it was Lyla though… or Lola… Lenny?
“Do it, Deora!” whispered my aunt from the locket. I groaned and began to tap my foot furiously underneath the table.
I took a deep breath, sucking in my pride, and then tapped Sirius on the shoulder. He ignored me so I tapped again. Ignored. I then began to poke him furiously in the shoulder.
“Okay, what the hell do you want, Deora?” he groaned exasperatedly, turning around to face me.
I plastered on the most genuine grin I could muster, but I was certain I just looked like a closet serial killer.
“Hi Sirius, lovely day, eh? Pretty… err… sunshine and shit,” I laughed nervously. Sunshine and shit? Oh my God, I sounded idiotic.
Sirius arched an eyebrow at me. “Did you really want to talk about the weather?”
Damn it! Caught! Quick, think of something clever to say! Something snappy so he knows I still hate him.
“Your hair looks funny,” I blurted out. Oh my good God! It was like I had word diarrhea!
Sirius’ hands quickly flew to his mop of black hair. “Funny? Funny how?”
I chuckled at his vanity. “I don’t know. It’s just funny looking… like funny.”
“You have a serious way with words, don’t you?” he rolled his eyes at me.
I made a face at him. Okay, I came here to do one thing so I might as well just say it now… “Look, Sirius, I’m sorry about the other night.” He looked at me in surprise like he really hadn’t been expecting an apology at all. Well yeah, you and me both, mate. “I was out of line and I shouldn’t have screamed at you.”
Sirius stared at me for a good two minutes as if he was trying to suss out my hidden intentions, but when he found none, he merely shrugged. “Forget about it.”
Sirius then went back to chatting up the redhead. I’ll call her Lenny. I prefer it to female names for some reason. It might have to do with that Muggle book Mum made me read… something about mice or rats or maybe a ferret. I can’t quite remember. Anyway, that particular lesson went by painfully slow and painfully awkward.
It’s not that I wanted Sirius’ attention, but his easy dismissal of my heartfelt apology made me feel kind of rejected.
I didn’t like feeling rejected.
Okay I had a serious issue. I was still extremely peeved that Sirius had completely disregarded my apology. I’m a Grunnion, I never flipping apologise so you know, he could have at least… Well I don’t sodding know!
Hugged me? No that’s weird.
Well at least, he could have given me an appreciative smile and gone, “oh wow Deora, you truly are an amazing angelic person.”
Yeah! That’d be nice.
But nope, nothing. Not a damn freaking thing.
“Deora, stop stabbing the table,” Aunt Helena whispered. I was currently hiding (again) in the library trying to do my homework, but all I’ve managed to do in the past half hour was carve ‘I HAT—’ onto the side of the mahogany table.
I grumbled in response.
“You fancy Sirius!” Aunt Helena exclaimed. A bit too loudly for my liking.
My head shot up and I scanned the other tables, but fortunately, no one had heard a thing. “No I do not!”
“Then why are you so hot and bothered he didn’t acknowledge your apology?” she queried annoyingly.
“First of all, I am neither hot nor bothered by Sirius and secondly, he’s just a prat! A big fat ugly prat!” I growled in response.
“Hmm… are you sure?” Aunt Helena asked teasingly. If I could punch a locket, I probably would.
“I don’t know why I haven’t flushed you down a toilet, I swear to Merlin you are more trouble than you are worth… Sometimes I…”
“Deora?” a gruff voice rang out in the quiet library. I looked up into the gorgeously beautiful face of Simon Finnegan.
He grinned down at me, flashing a set of pearly whites before taking his seat across from me. His curly brown hair would flop over his eyes with every movement he made and irritated, he’d brush it back. “Were you just talking to yourself?”
I took in his full hot glory self before I even bothered to answer. “Oh well, err…” Balls, there was no way to deny this, was there? “Well, I do that when I’m stressed about work. And stuff.”
Simon nodded understandingly. “Oh right, I do that too sometimes. I guess we have more in common than just Quidditch.” He winked.
SIMON FINNEGAN JUST WINKED FLIRTATIOUSLY AT ME.
RING THE BELL TOWER.
I’VE JUST BEEN FLIRTED TO BY A FIT GUY!!
Shush. It’s been awhile… I sighed internally at this realisation.
“I guess we do,” I smiled charmingly back.
Awkward silence. Shit.
“Erm, so what are you working on?” I asked pretending to be interested in the books he had laid across the table.
“Charms paper,” he shrugged. “I somehow managed to get an Outstanding last year in it and then decided to take it at N.E.W.T. level, bad mistake.”
Oh right. I always forgot he’s a sixth year, but I swore he was the same age as me. Humph. I wrinkled my nose in concentration. Did he fail? Oh Merlin, he was an idiot, wasn’t he? Just when I find a bloody fit guy that seems to be interested, he turns out to be as smart as the Whomping Willow.
“What are you doing?” he chuckled at my expression.
I quickly looked away abashedly. “Oh… I just… I thought you were in the same year as me.”
Simon began to laugh, making his chest rise rapidly. I don’t know why but there was something extremely sexy about seeing a fit buff guy laugh so much. It was really taking every ounce of me not to pounce him right there and then in the library…
Look away first years! This is unfit for your eyes!
“Technically, I should be in your year,” he began. “And no, I did not fail a year, Deora. I didn’t come to Hogwarts till I was twelve because my mum was really ill and so I stayed the extra year to be with her.”
Oh good lord, I felt like a right twat.
“I’m so sorry, Simon, I had no idea,” I quickly said.
He chuckled softly, “you didn’t know. Well anyways, I stayed with her till she passed and then came to Hogwarts the following year.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said again, unable to think of anything remotely comforting.
“Stop apologising, Dee,” he smiled. “She was a great woman and I’m glad I stayed with her for that year.”
I loved his optimism and his ability to think so positively about something so tragic. I wish I could… it would take years. Again, my heart constricted tightly, but I felt a low hum coming from the locket.
Thanks Aunt Helena.
Noticing my discomfort, Simon quickly changed the subject. “I bet I’m older than you anyways. Birthday?”
“February 13th,” I told him.
“Beat ya, December 27th!” he laughed.
I like Simon. Hell, I think I bloody love this guy. I was about to make some flirtatious quip when Mary ran into the niche where Simon and I were sitting in the library, her eyes overflowing with tears.
I stood up so quickly the chair fell backwards creating a loud thud onto the wooden floor.
“Mary, what happened?” I exclaimed enveloping my friend into my arms.
“He’s dating…” Hiccup. “Someone else!” Hiccup. “And I’ve been…” Hiccup. “… In love…” Hiccup. “With him… for four years!” Mary stammered out, her voice shaky and quiet.
“Baby, who?” I queried. Simon nodded towards me before bolting out of the library. Boys. They cannot handle a crying girl no matter how decent or chivalrous they are.
hey guys!! sorry for the SUPER DUPER late update... i've been extremely busy with university work, courseworks and final presentations. then the disappearance of my internet connection in my house and then to top it off, me being stuck in an airport for over 24 hours. but enough about me, let's get back to this cliffhanger! uh oh, mary's mystery crush is sirius black... does deora need any more reason to hate his stinking guts? apparently, she does!! woopsies! hehe... and what about simon?! how yummy-licious is he?? what do you guys want to see happen next? and as usual, favourite lines??? any sort of review is welcomed. i thrive on them. literally... well this will be the last update till the queue opens again! although, i should be updating more frequently as i should have many more chapters ready by then... for this one, Seeing Red and definitely some one-shots. ;) get ready!!
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