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The Fickle Things by seekingHARRY
Chapter 1 : Rules and Reason
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3


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Disclaimer: I do not own any characters that belong to the HP universe, those belong to J.K Rowling.




 




 



Chapter One - Rules and Reasons






The time was right, it was a bright eight o’clock on a tremendously rainy morning, the ever encroaching autumn already taking hold of the unsuspecting citizens of Mt. Joy. The vacation town was a center for middle aged woman and their husbands to drink overly expensive wines at night and then sleep until late afternoon, while it was also a center for rowdy and hormonal teenagers to abuse the powdery mountain slopes and explore their youthful exuberance. Although during the day the town seemed lovely, calm, and even collected, by the time night had fallen and the lights had come on through the streets, the town started to glow with a newfound excitement.

That was almost precisely what Kendra Truman feared had captivated her last night.

You see, Kendra rarely left her faux-log cabin on the outer most edge of Mt. Joy, and when she did, it was only to ever grab a book from the local library or replenish the fridge her mother forgot existed from day to day. She barely ever even dared adventure out onto the balcony - which encircled the entire cabin as her grandparents loved to brag about - let alone the rocking streets of her summer getaway.

But this summer was different.

Not only did the summer following her sixth year involve a bloody and carnal divorce from her once happy and functional parents, but it also seemed to bring way to the newfound Kendra Truman. In the midst of custody battles and papers sealed in clean cut manila envelopes, Kendra found out a few key things about herself.

First, she rather liked the feel of lace.

She’d discovered it after she’d finally decided to dig through the box she kept under her bed, the one she filled with all the useless gifts she’d been given by her mother over the years. After passing over velvet wrapped pearl necklaces, curling irons that probably cost a fortune but had never been turned on, and tiny clear-cut crystal earrings that dangled and which Kendra couldn’t even remember receiving, she finally arrived upon what she’d been looking for. On her last birthday - her seventeenth - she’d asked for a new set of Chaser’s gloves, one’s that had special grips on them so she could cut down her error average by a couple points. Instead her mother scoffed and said she had something much more “lady-like” in store, and Kendra was left with what looked like three pieces of lace sewed together. In reality, it turned out the skimpy underwear actually made her feel all right, and when she wore it on her first day out during the summer, she almost forgot all about her parent’s divorce.

Second, she no longer detested the taste of alcohol.

Though perhaps Butterbeer had a more appealing taste, rum gave her the same warm feeling in her stomach. She also discovered that if she drank enough of it, that boys of all ages, whether locals or rich vacationers looking for a good time, flocked to her side and were more than glad to hold her when she stumbled. And frankly, Kendra was more than glad to let them.

Third, she actually kind of enjoyed the burning sensation of a cigarette.

Sure, she knew they could probably give her cancer or something, but wasn’t that what magic was for? Surely if they could make a feather float, they could clear her lungs up a little, right? Well, whether they could or couldn’t, it wasn’t like dying was a huge worry for her. At this point, all she wanted to do was live in the present, and in the present Kendra really enjoyed a good smoke.

Fourth, she didn’t hate her mother.

Yes, Mrs Petra Truman - or now Ms Petra Theodore as she’d reverted back to after the divorce - was probably the craziest bitch to ever birth a child, but she had good intentions. Maybe she would rather go out and sleep with every man over thirty in Mt. Joy than take care of her seventeen year old, but she still put a roof over Kendra’s head. And sometimes, when her mother was done with her night and stumbled back into the cabin around three o’clock in the morning, she would creep into Kendra’s room and kiss her on her cheek when she thought she was still sleeping. At these moments, she proved her love, however small it might have been. But most importantly, the one factor Kendra absolutely had to love her mother for, was the magic she gave her. Had both her parents been muggle, she might have never found her true love: Hogwarts.

Fifth, and finally, she absolutely did not love Marcus Anderson in the slightest.

This newest realization was precisely what was making Kendra’s throat tight that morning, fearing she’d done something very, very bad. Despite the fact that she’d fully embraced this new persona she’d fabricated, she never would have imagined stepping over this very clear moral line. She’d grown up knowing that first came love, than came… well, this. In no world that she knew did someone have casual sex with a boy she barely knew just because, well, she wanted to.

Kendra was almost certain that made her a slut.

Not only was she a child of a now broken home, she was also an abuser of alcohol, a chain smoker, and now, a slut. Was this how it felt to be a teenager? Or was she doing something wrong?

Considering before this summer she spent almost every waking hour dedicated to studying and Quidditch, she wasn’t sure what was right and what was wrong. Her only friends had been her friends since first year, and hardly minded that she was no fun at all. When there were after parties for the Quidditch team, she found her way back to the dormitory and claimed she was too tired to mingle. While the rest of Hogwarts, the rest of the world, went on enjoying their childhood, Kendra Truman tried her best to avoid ever being the disrespectful teenagers she began to despise. Except now, while she lied in a bed that wasn’t hers with the rain outside signaling the end of this treacherous summer, she wondered if this was what it felt like to be disrespectful.

Or if this was just what it felt like to be a teenager.

***


On September 1st, Kendra Truman was finally completely packed. Her broom sat at the bottom of her trunk, charmed so that nothing could scratch it. Although she had decided a couple days ago that she wasn’t going to try out for the team this year, she packed it nonetheless. If nothing else, she could fly it around the field for fun. Along with her broom, were all her brand new books - which she’d apparated to Diagon Alley to buy the other day while her mother was still crashed in her bed - and supplies, ready to tackle her seventh year. Unlike past years, however, along with the books and Quidditch gear were lacy underwear, an empty metal flask, and three packs of cigarettes, all reminders of the Kendra that had been molded over the past two months.

What she didn’t pack, were anything that reminded her of Marcus Anderson, including the tight purple dress she’d worn to the party that night, which lay instead in the corner of her closet, ready to begin the rest of its lonely life there. Frankly, she was done with worrying about such insignificant things. Sure, she might have broken a promise to her twelve year old self, but Kendra was ready to embrace her new self. Hogwarts might just have a shock in store for them.

Nevertheless, as she looked around her summer room, the blinds drawn and her walls bear, she knew she wouldn’t miss it much. In the end, though the room held significance, it was still just a room. So with that, she hauled up her trunk and marched her way down the stairs, not attempting to keep silent as it wasn’t like her mother would be up anytime soon. However, as she skipped over the last step, she knew she couldn’t rightfully leave without a goodbye.

Taking the steps two at a time, she flew up to her mother’s alcove - which was situated at the other end of the hall than Kendra’s, for whatever promiscuous activities went down there - and knocked lightly on the door.

She hadn’t expected her mother to answer, and when she didn’t, Kendra simply nudged the door open and peeked into the pitch dark room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, clothes still strewn across every surface in the room and the stale smell of perfume still stuck itself to her nose. Across the double bed her parents had once shared was a slender woman whose hair was splayed over two pillows, it’s vibrant and manufactured bright red strands poking out from the dull gray covers. Each limb stuck out from fabric like precarious branches, threatening to tumble out of the duvet at any moment. Among the perfume stench, was the careful scent of last night’s drink, whiskey clinging to her breath and coating the walls. Each step Kendra took further into the room she regretted more and more. Though she didn’t hate her mother, as she’d already decided, she was a little revolted by the sheer disregard for common human hygiene.

“Mom?” she questioned into the dark. “Mom? You awake?”

Not getting an answer or even hearing a twitch, Kendra made her way over to the side of the bed and peered into her mother’s face.

Her eyes were closed, but her lips seemed to be moving slightly in the dark, mumbling mute words. Her mother’s face was almost flawlessly pale, that perfect pearly color that made men swoon at her mystery. It was almost too perfect, to luminescent for Kendra to believe it real. However, as her mother shifted slightly in her sleep, her daughter could only sigh as she saw the slight remnants of vomit on the pillow beside her.

“Mom?” she said louder this time, reaching down to shake her shoulder. “Mom? I’m going to school now…”

Still no answer.

“Mom?” She was whining a little now and even she was irritated with her own voice. “Okay, I’m going now. Goodbye, mom.”

And with that, she left the room, grabbed her trunk, and apparated to Kings Cross Station.

***

Because none of her family had come to see her off - she didn’t blame them, her father was working and her mother was, well, her mother - she nabbed possibly the best compartment on the train. Close enough to the bathrooms to not have to suffer the line but not close enough to smell anything undesirable, while still at the very front of the Honeydukes Express route, so they would get all the good sweets before they were sold out. And now, as an all-worthy seventh year, she didn’t need to fear any older students coming and kicking her out. With her long legs - she was almost six foot after all - she stretched across the two compartment benches and enjoyed the quiet while it lasted.

And lasted it did, but for only around seven and a half minutes.

“Oh, hi Kendra,” said James Potter from the door, his floppy mop of black hair falling over his eyes as he stared oddly at her.

“Hi, Potter.” She tried to smile a little, but it immediately felt uncomfortable. “How was your summer?”

“Good, I s’ppose,” he responded, his fingers pushing through his hair as his eyes traveled to the ceiling. “Played lots of Quidditch, you know, same ol’ same ol’. You?”

“Yeah, pretty much the same for me too,” she responded, not bothering to elaborate.

You see, James Potter and Kendra Truman didn’t speak much. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other, in fact Kendra thought Potter was an all right bloke all together, but they simply never had any reason to be friends. Sure, the boy was related to most of Kendra’s closest friends and they’d both been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team since second year, they just didn’t seem to have much in common. Potter’s parents were richer than the Minister of Magic, his father more famous than Voldemort himself. He probably lived in a giant house with his hundred and thirty cousins, one enormous happy family living a enormously happy life. Frankly, she hadn’t much time for people that got whatever they wanted, especially when that “whatever” was a happy family.

“Fred was right behind me, I think,” he said, casually looking back down the hall from where he came. “Do you think we could sit with you?”

Kendra nodded silently, a small smile slipping onto her lips at the thought of Freddie Weasley. Kendra and Fred had been best friends since their very first day at Hogwarts, when Freddie’s pet cat went missing and Kendra found it in the girls’ lavatory. While Fred was wild and a prankster to the very core, Kendra was silent and studious; they balanced each other out perfectly. They spent all their free time in the Gryffindor common room playing Exploding Snap or mapping out their next great adventure through the castle. Around most people, Kendra found little to say, and though she still didn’t say much around Freddie, he understood her enough for her not to need to.

“Kena-bear!” boomed a voice from the hallway, and immediately Kendra flew from her seat.

“You little, bloody…” But she couldn’t finish her words as she was choked in a massive hug, her face pressed into the collar of his shirt. He smelled vaguely of peppermint, she noted.

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, darling, it doesn’t flatter you.”

She took a swipe at his head but he simply ducked under her arm and flopped onto the bench.

“You didn’t owl me all summer, you twat!” She glared at him but took her seat in the corner again. “Surely you two weren’t getting into so much trouble that you couldn’t even bother to write?” This time she glanced briefly at James as well, who was sitting with his head tilted towards the ground, staring at his lap.

“That reminds me!” Fred exclaimed, barely fazed by her rant. “You should have seen what my dad did this summer…”

With that, he was off on a long winded story about stealing ten pounds of green paint and water balloons attached to the feet of owls. She caught a quick glimpse of Potter rolling his eyes and nearly snorted in laughter. It seemed Freddie always had a story to tell, whether it was of his meddlesome father who never seemed to grow up or one of his and James’ crazy adventures at the Burrow. Kendra got a little jealous at times when they spoke of the family get-togethers, wishing she too could spend so much time engrossed in the Weasley atmosphere. She went there once for a week during Christmas break in third year, the Burrow already packed with relatives gearing up for the holidays, and she dearly missed it. She and Freddie created a giant fort out of all the presents and stayed there for a whole day, with only each other as company.

That Christmas, however, was also the year her mother broke her leg after she “fell” down the stairs.

“Merlin’s pants, you won’t ever believe what I just saw.”

In typical Dominique fashion, the blond girl trotted into the compartment and threw herself into the seat next to Kendra, barely pausing to say hello before she was already diving into the next piece of gossip she’d picked up on. Dom Weasley was yet another one of Kendra’s close friends, though not nearly as close as Freddie. She and Dom had shared a dorm since first year, and because she didn’t spend hours in the bathroom putting on makeup every morning and refrained from squealing at every possible moment, Kendra had automatically preferred her to the other Gryffindor girls. Over the years, Kendra had silently lived through Dom’s escapades, living up to the reputation she held at Hogwarts. If anyone knew what it felt like to be a slut, it was Dom.

“Rose, our Rosie, was just snogging a bloody Slytherin,” she finished with a smirk.

“She was doing what?” Potter asked with raised eyebrows, not sure how to take this recent news.

“You know that Malfoy boy? The one with the bleached hair and long nose?” The two boys nodded. “Well it appears Rosie doesn’t find him nearly as revolting as the rest of the school does. Either that or he’s a really good snog.”

“Huh,” whispered Fred, slumping a little in his seat.

“Weird,” said James, he too looking a little pale where he sat.

“Oh, come on,” said Kendra, rolling her eyes at them all. “Surely it’s not such a big deal. If she likes him, she likes him. It is most definitely not her cousins’ business who she wants to snog.”

The compartment was silent as all three of them stared at her, seeming as if what they were looking at was more of a malformed toad than a seventeen year old girl.

“What?” she asked, touching her face to see if she was all of a sudden sporting a giant growth or something. “What is it?”

“I…” began Dom, still seeming perplexed on what she was looking at. “Well, it’s just that- well, I think that may have been the most I’ve ever heard you speak in one sitting, Kendra.”

She glanced at the other two to find them nodding profusely in agreement.

“Oh, get over yourselves.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving up on their sanity entirely. “Just because I choose not to babble on like an idiot like the rest of the female population in this bloody school, doesn’t mean I have nothing to say.”

“Right…” said Freddie tentatively as the silence stretched on for a couple more seconds. Shrugging, however, Fred turned to Dom. “So, Dominique, you missed my story I was telling about my dad this summer…”

As Fred launched back into his story, Kendra glared at the carpet. She’d expected that her new persona might surprise most of the other students at school, but she’d forgotten about her friends. Would they notice that she didn’t really care much about anything anymore? Was the breaking of her silence just the beginning? Though she hadn’t ever hated being the silent type, she wondered what’d be like to simply be part of the group. No longer would Kendra Truman be the quiet girl sitting up in her dormitory doing her Potions essay. No longer would she be a virgin who had never even kissed a boy in her life. No longer would she be the old, boring Kendra Truman.

Today, as the train powered on towards Hogwarts, she was new.




AN: So here it begins! I'm starting fresh on this new account (you may have read some of my stories as GinervaMWeasley in the past) and with this brand new story. The themes are a little sensitive, so be wary of the warnings that have been placed on this story. And with that, I wish you happy reading and I hope you will enjoy!






 




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