Troian Bellisario as Bollie, the wretchedly misunderstood heroine.
Kaley Cuoco as Ruth, the self-centred BFF.
Shailene Woodley as Sammy, the little sister who never means to complicate things, but just sort of always does.
Confession three - My sister hates that Halloween is my favourite day of the year .
So, as I mentioned before, it was November 1st when I realised That Night had resulted in slightly more than a pounding headache that wouldn’t go away for three days. Which meant, of course, that the day before was October 31st, which as you know (unless you’re a moron of an epic degree) is Halloween. This explained why the Ravenclaw girls dorm was covered with black streamers, and instead of school uniforms littering the floor there were capes, stilettos and werewolf masks. Halloween just so happens to be my favourite holiday. Even better than my birthday, which falls right at the beginning of the school year, thus meaning everyone is too pissed off and stressed to want to celebrate. September birthdays are the worst. Though it does mean I’m taller and better at scrabble than the majority of my classmates.
I’m serious. There are studies to back me up here.
Anyway, I’m extremely in to Halloween. My sister finds this weird. She hates Halloween, because it’s the day our dad left us for good. Our family is screwed up. Me, Sammy, and our brother Jake, all live with mum. But she’s not technically Sammy’s mum. Confused yet? Sammy was the product of dad’s secret girlfriend, who he left us for once, and then came back a few years later with a little Sammy in his arms and apologies on his lips. Her mum had run off or whatever. And in that time Mum had another baby with another man - so that’s Jake. So Sammy had no relation to Mum and Jake had no relation to Dad, and somehow we managed to live like that as a happy family until I was nine, on Halloween, when Dad skipped out for good. Surprisingly, none of us really cared, even Sammy, who just continued to live with us from then on.
So yeah, it’s messed up. There’s lot we don’t know about Dad, but the only thing we ever really wonder is if he was a wizard. If he was Mum didn’t know, because she was shocked as hell when Sammy and I got our letters, but since Jake isn’t magic and Sammy and I are, it just kind of seems likely that we got it from our dad.
Anyway, yesterday was a particularly good Halloween, in hindsight, because I was blissfully unaware to the little creature curled up in my womb.
Before you ask, yes, this is how I freak out. I tend to ramble about anything but the actual topic at hand. I know this isn’t exactly productive, but compartmentalising is my biggest talent, and I’m not going to let it go to waste. It’s a Saturday, but not a Hogsmeade weekend, so I can’t conceivably go anywhere and buy a pregnancy test to confirm this, and I don’t want to freak out before I’m absolutely certain there’s anything to even freak out about.
(Okay, so it’s pretty obvious at this stage that a pregnancy test is just a waste of money, but I’m in denial. So sue me.)
Ruth knocked me out of my daze. I was staring out of the window morosely, imagining people dying in grizzly ways and contemplating how much easier their lives were than mine. It was the part of the film where the camera would pan around me and the music would swell, and a single tear would drip down my cheek, etc etc etc. In real life I just got a shove from Ruth that made me vomit a little in my own mouth.
“Breakfast,” she said. “Come on, or you’ll waste away to absolutely nothing.”
She threw some clothes at my face. How rude.
I refused to get changed, and got my revenge for her violence by remaining silent as we made our way down to the Great Hall, me still in my pyjamas. This backfired, as Ruth loves to hear herself talk, and was probably happier when I wasn’t interrupting her. She doesn’t really need me for those ‘conversations’. I’m just an accessory so people don’t think she’s talking to herself, and therefore a nutter. (Which she is. Just saying).
We got down to the Hall and sat down at the Ravenclaw table. There weren’t many people there, because it was still ridiculously early and a lot of people were hungover from the massive Halloween blow-out that me and Ruth hadn’t gone to the night before. So we were alone as we loaded up our plates (okay, so Ruth loaded up her plate with toast, kippers, waffles, pancakes, etc. I just had a little bit of porridge. After all, I knew now that I’d just be puking it up again in an hour, so it seemed kind of pointless).
We’d been eating for a few minutes when my sister came skipping into the room. She looked around eagerly, searching for someone to sit with, because the Hufflepuff table was empty. I was about to call her over, but Ruth beat me to it.
“Sammy!” she yelled, spraying me with toast crumbs (Um, ew) and waving her arms madly, looking even weirder than usual because she’d forgotten she was holding a kipper, and was now flapping it about in the air.
…and she wonders why we’re not popular.
Sammy raced over, eyes bright.
“You’ll never guess!” she exclaimed dramatically as she skidded to a halt next to our table. Ruth perked up. Gossip was her drug.
“What? Who? Was it yesterday? This morning? Was it at the party? Were you there? Bollie, I told you we should have gone! I can’t believe we missed this!”
“Steady on,” I muttered. “You don’t even know what happened yet.”
Ruth waved a hand at me dismissively and turned back to Sammy, who was shovelling pancakes onto her plate.
“So yeah, I’m at the party, just hanging out, and it was a bit lame so I was about to leave, and then suddenly Scarlett starts yelling at James - it was in the middle of this really romantic slow song, and they’d been dancing, and I dunno what he said but all of a sudden she was like, ‘YOU WHAT?’ And then they had this massive fight!”
“What about?” Ruth asks immediately, practically crawling across the table, looking like she wants to kiss Sammy for getting her up to speed on the latest scandal before anyone realised she’d missed it.
“Well, you remember last time they had a fight? At Roxanne’s party? They made up the next day, and never technically split, but James must have thought they were over because that night he went and slept with someone else!”
My heart leapt into my throat, and I pushed my porridge away. I suddenly felt extremely sick, and I didn‘t think it was anything to do with morning sickness.
“Who!?” Ruth practically growled. Sammy shrugged.
“He didn’t get to that. But anyway, he went on about how he totally regretted it and she wasn’t even good and she was this totally annoying idiot who he’d never normally speak to, and he so, so regretted it, but Scarlett wasn’t having it.”
I quickly leapt from nauseous to fuming. I was not annoying, and I was definitely not an idiot! I’m practically the mascot for the Ravenclaw house (besides the whole drunken sex/bastard child growing in my stomach thing). And not good! I’ll admit I don’t exactly have much experience in that area but even I could tell that night was something special. Considering we were both so smashed we could barely see straight we sure had a lot of energy.
I had a very strong urge to punch something. Or someone. Preferably James freaking Potter.
Luckily Ruth and Sammy were used to the mood swings I‘d developed in the last few months, because they barely batted an eyelid when I rose from the table and stormed out.
I wanted to go find James and slap him, but I had no idea where the Gryffindor dorms were, so instead I went back to my room. I would have screamed, but a few of my roommates were still asleep. Instead I threw myself down onto my bed moodily and punched the pillow. I wished he’d ever given me something so I could break it, but we’d never really spoken apart from that night. I remembered that Transfiguration was his favourite lesson, and ripped up one of my essays as a sort of ‘screw you’ to him and all his loves.
I then realised that I’d destroyed an essay that was due in the next day, and spent the next hour and a half trying to find all the little pieces and sort them back together. McGonagall would probably have to cast a Decoding spell on it by the time I was done spellotaping it together, because I’ve never been very good at jigsaws.
If I get a bad grade, I will add it to the list of things James Potter has ruined for me.
Nov 1st, 9 am, Bollie’s Brain.
Mental List: THINGS JAMES POTTER HAS DONE TO ME THAT HE DESERVES TO DIE FOR:
1. Fed me totally gross dubious alcoholic beverages which I spent days barfing back up.
2. Took my virginity in a gross, dirty broom cupboard while I was drunk on said dubious beverages.
3. Fertilised the hell out of me in said broom closet while I was drunk on said dubious beverages.
4. Claimed to not enjoy fertilising the hell out of me in said closet whilst drunk on said dubious beverages.
5. Said I was an idiot. Now that’s just plain lying.
6. Indirectly possibly failed me my Transfiguration Mock exam.
7. Probably a million more things that he hasn’t done yet but will do soon so I’ll count them anyway.
Meh. Life is a mistake. I’m going back to bed.