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Chapter 6 : Looks Can Be Deceiving
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All due credit to Schultz. @ TDA for making it for me! It is just... awesome!
“Willow! Come here! Tell me how I look.” Kate Skeeter: bitch extraordinare.
“No, Kate, you've tried on thirty fucking dresses already. I'm hungry, and I'm going to the Three Broomstick's for lunch.”
“Willow, what the fuck is up your arse lately? You're being such a bitch to me.”
“Oh, I don't know! Maybe it's because apparently I got knocked up, then attacked, then lost my memory, then got told my DAD is DEAD, even though I can't FUCKING even REMEMBER what he looks like?!”
“Well, you don't need to be such a fucking little bitch to me, do you?”
I stormed out. Friend count: zero.
Good job, Willow. Good work.
Scarf wrapped around neck, coat probably making me look like a fat walrus, I trudged through the snow, up the path that lead to the Three Broomsticks. Inside was warm. The fire was crackling merrily away, a contrast to my mood.
They had a Christmas tree, decorated with baubles and tinsel, like a Muggle tree. I didn't know how I knew it, but it looked exactly like the one I'd grown up with, unwrapping gifts and laughing with my family.
A tear ran down my right cheek. I reached up, to wipe it away, and saw, out of the corner of my vision, Sophia Lovegood sitting, alone at a table.
I walked over.
She was staring into space, deep in thought. I took a deep breath. I hadn't talked to her – hell, I hadn't talked to anyone except Kate and Tanya - since they'd kidnapped me and put me on a broom.
“Um... hi. Can I,” I gestured at the empty seat opposite her, “maybe join you?”
I'd startled her. She laughed.
“What? Oh, yeah, of course.”
“Thanks,” I took a seat.
“So, how have you been, Willow?” she asked, after a slightly awkward silence.
“Alright,” I lied.
She raised a delicate eyebrow.
“Okay, okay. I'm a mess. And Kate... why am I friends with Kate, Sophia?”
“You've never been friends with Kate. She lied to you so you would stay away from us. She wants revenge on you.”
“You were friends with Bella Flint, me, Rosie, Rox, Eloise Thompson, Jessica, Alice, Lorcan and Lysander, and all the Wotters. You know,” she edited, seeing my confusion, “the Weasley/Potter family. And you hated Skeeter, and Zabini, and Fred, even, up until a few weeks ago.”
“So... Kate was lying about... everything?”
“What did she tell you?”
“That James knocked me up, and then you guys killed the foetus, and made me forget everything.”
“What the fuck is wrong with her? None of that's true! You... you were never pregnant. You're a virgin. Bella's the pregnant one. Skeeter just made up that you were pregnant and got the whole school to believe it. And James... the reason he was sorry...”
“Yeah?” It was a lot to take in. I was going to fucking murder that Skeeter bitch.
“You loved him, Willow. You were in love with him, and he laughed in your face about it.”
“Shit is going to hit the fan, Sophia.”
“Why did Kate want revenge on me?” I was curious. Maybe Kate had a reason for all of this, after all. Everything that Sophia was saying; it cleared up a lot of questions and shady 'facts'. It all rung true, and there was no doubt in my mind that Kate Skeeter was a liar, and had used me.
“Because you made her look stupid in front o the entire school. Because she was spreading the pregnancy rumours.”
I stood up, and started walking towards the door.
“Oh, and Willow?”
“Yeah?” I answered, turning back.
“You can call me Fifi.”
I was mad.
There was no escaping it.
I was totally, completely, absolutely, inescapably mad.
Pissed off, even.
I strode into whatever the hell that stupid clothes store was called. Mother-fucking Miss Skeeter was going to pay.
“BITCH! MOTHER-FUCKING LITTLE WHORE!” That's right, I hadn't forgotten how to swear. Dragging the bitch outside by her hair had a certain satisfying feeling attached to it. The shop owner and assistant – whatever the hell their names were – stood, paralysed in shock.
Mwah ha ha ha.
I threw her onto the snow, ripping several stupid blonde hair extensions out as I did.
Serves her right.
I wasn't finished just yet.
She lay on the snow, cowering, wearing a ripped dress from the store. It was sequinned, and those sequins were becoming more attached to the snow than to the actual dress.
Revenge tasted sweet.
“ZABINI! HELP ME!”
Tanya pretended not to hear, and hurried past, probably to get as far away from me as was humanly possible. I'd sort her out later.
I cracked up. Some strange, inferior part of my brain whispered that I'd get a million and one detentions for this, and I'd never be allowed back into Hogsmeade again, but I didn't listen.
Bitch please, let me finish here first, little voice in my head.
“FUCK YOU, BITCH!” I screamed. “YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN, CAN JUST – JUST LIE TO ME; TREAT ME LIKE FUCKING SHIT? THAT'S RIGHT! SOPHIA TOLD ME THE WHOLE TRUTH! WELL I'M FUCKING DONE!”
She stood up, shakily.
“After all I've done for you, Willow. And you believe that Lovegood skank? I'm disgusted. I thought that maybe my best friend wouldn't act like this.”
She was about as convincing as a Dementor pretending to be a daisy.
On one note; weird because I didn't know what had made me think of that, on another; hilariously stupid.
Not convincing at all.
Sorry, bitch, but I'm going to trust my gut feeling on this.
I slapped her, leaving a bright red mark.
“Have a nice day, bitch,” I smiled.
I turned around, and Sophia Lovegood was standing there, grinning her head off.
“Shit hit the fan,” she agreed, cheerfully.
Then she pulled out a shiny, dark looking wand, pointed it at Skeeter – who was looking at her make-up in a hand-held mirror – and muttered a strange incantation.
“That'll sort her out.” She strode off. I hurried after her.
“Lovegoo- Soph- Fifi? What's a Dementor?” I asked. It was niggling away at me. Maybe it was another 'sort-of' memory.
“Oh, a Dementor is a creature that feeds off happiness, and sucks your soul out. It preys on your worst memories. Why do you ask?”
Ugh. Dementors were nothing like daisies.
“Oh, I just, thought of them, and I wondered why.”
“Well, that's a good sign that you're remembering, right?”
“I don't know,” I said, doubtfully. “I mean, I want to remember, but I don't know if I am remembering. It's just a funny feeling I get sometimes.”
“I hate Dementors,” Sophia shuddered.
“Because... they have a habit of making stuff I don't want to remember fresher.”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
I didn't push it, because something told me I probably didn't want to know.
The next day, I boarded the train with the Wotter Clan. They were so cheerful. It was downright disorientating. Skeeter walked past, the evidence of Sophia's brilliance clear.
“Nice hairdo, Skeeter!” I called down the train's corridor.
Hahahaha. Bald bitch. Sorry, but that wig? Doesn't quite suit you. Unless you dig the whole 'hair-falling-off-your-head-making-it-super-obvious-that-you're-wearing-a-wig' look. In fact, I didn't even really mind the three weeks of detention – which I had been assured would be horrifyingly awful, by countless people – and the lifelong ban from Hogsmeade. It had been worth it.
I wasn't looking forward to the Christmas holidays. At the moment, I couldn't distinguish my brother from a lamp. Although I hoped fervently that he wasn't an inanimate object.
“Eloise, Nathan isn't a lamp, is he?”
Everyone looked at me funny.
“No,” they chorused.
“Idiot,” Eloise chuckled.
“Well, for all I know, he could be! And my mother, too! Maybe I'm a cyborg child, or an alien or-”
“Geez, calm the fuck down Willow,” Louis said.
Louis Weasley was an interesting character. He radiated all the innocence of a cutesy little blonde, blue-eyed puppy dog, yet had the ability to conform swear-words into every single sentence that poured out of his mouth. He was a Slytherin, on the Quidditch team, which – according to him – was going to 'whop our fucking Gryffindor arses'. He seemed like the average arrogant player, yet anyone with half a brain could tell that he was completely and utterly whipped for Fifi... Lucky ducky.
According to Sophia, I loved James, but, honestly, I just couldn't see it. I looked over at him, sitting on the floor of the train's compartment, playing a strange game of Wizard's Chess with Albus. It was fascinating, but at the same time, horrible. Extremely violent, but I supposed that was sibling rivalry for you. You know, with the whole 'bashing up chess pieces to prove your superiority' thing.
Rose slid the compartment door open energetically, her lipstick smudged and her eyes gleaming mysteriously. Okay, so not that mysteriously, considering it was pretty obvious that she'd been snogging some poor guy inside a toilet or something.
She walked in – or, should I say, skipped – happily, with an ash-blonde, tall, muscular guy with piercing grey eyes. He glanced at me, sort of warily.
“Hi Willow! This is Scorpius! Scorpius Malfoy! Everyone: he's my boyfriend! Willow, you won't have met him, would you?”
I stood up shakily. Scorpius. Malfoy. Lucius. Malfoy. He was the kid whose grandfather had murdered my Dad. Did being a killer run in families? Was I looking into the eyes of evil? Maybe he'd told his grandfather to kill my father!
“Your grandfather killed my Dad. And I can't even remember what he looks like.”
I walked out, the door sliding behind me, leaving an array of shock in my wake.
“Willow! You're being completely unreasonable, honestly, if you'd just listen.” Willow was being a royal pain in the bloody behind. Scorpius wasn't some maniac killer, he was my boyfriend! So what if he had family issues? It wasn't exactly his fault.
Yet, even though I'd explained it already several times, Willow wasn't being very logical. She wasn't even talking, just sitting there being a bloody royal pain in the behind.
“Willow,” Scorpius started, “I've never even met my grandfather. He wasn't... on the right side in the war, and he's been in Azkaban ever since. I'm sorry about your dad, but...” he trailed off. I didn't blame him.
“I don't know,” said Willow, sadly. “I don't know anything. I don't know who my friends are, and I don't know who to trust. I don't know you.”
“The old Willow wouldn't-” I snapped.
“The old Willow? Who the hell is this old Willow? I don't know her. From what I've heard, she was totally crazy, always smiling, always happy, had a tendency to be random and violent and – and is that who you want me to be? Do you want me to pretend I'm that person, when I can't even remember? Well, people change, Rose, I'm sorry if I've disappointed you.”
And with a violent flourish of her cloak, Willow flounced out. Scorp put his arm around my shoulders.
“We tried,” he whispered, and kissed me.
“I guess, she might figure things out by herself,” I sighed. “If only she could see what she used to be like.”
I leaned in for another snog, and a brilliant idea just came to me. I gasped, causing Scorp to look at me; concerned.
“What is it, babe?” he asked me.
“Pensieve! We can share our own memories with Willow using the Pensieve!”
“Oh, I don’t know, Rosie. I don’t really think that’s such a good idea.”
I stared at him. What the hell? It could help Willow! Anything that helped Willow was a brilliant idea!
“Why isn’t it a good idea?” I questioned. “Did you hit your head?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s... oh, never mind. Just count me out. I’m not sharing my memories.”
Scorpius was being selfish, which was really weird. He was really good friends with Willow, or at least, he had been before last holidays. After that he’d been ignoring her, basically.
Maybe they’d had a fight or something. Must have been pretty bad, though.
“Why? Did you and Willow have a fight?”
“No, it’s just,” he sighed, “you have to understand, that Willow’s probably never going to get her memory back. Ever. I mean, look at what happened to Lockhart, that old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He still doesn’t know why he’s famous, and the same thing happened to him.”
I kept staring in disbelief.
“You have to try! Willow doesn’t deserve to be given up on.”
“Well, maybe she does! I mean, sometimes she could be a real bitch, you know?”
“Willow was never a bitch to you, Scorpius. She was always kind, and loyal, totally crazy; yes, but she doesn’t deserve you treating her like she’s dispensable.”
“Well, I’m not going to help her, not in any way.”
“FINE!” I lost it. “AND IF YOU WANT TO BE SELFISH, MAYBE WE SHOULDN’T BE TOGETHER!”
“WELL, MAYBE I DON’T WANT TO BE WITH YOU, ANYWAY!”
“WELL, CONSIDER YOURSELF DUMPED!”
“FINE! AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, I FUCKED TANYA ZABINI BEHIND YOUR BACK!”
I ran. I had to get as far away from Scorpius Malfoy as possible. I wished I’d listened to Dad, back at the start of first year.
Never trust a Malfoy, that was his motto.
He was right.
I hid, in the train's toilet. Hiding felt very weird, not to mention wrong. I should be out there, with Fifi, and Rox and all the rest of my friends. I shouldn't show my weaknesses to the enemy.
Plus there was quite a queue lined up outside. And there weren't being quiet.
“Come on! Who's in there? What the hell is taking so long?!”
“It's Willow Evergreen!” I unwisely shouted back, “Can't you just go to the other toilet?”
“Must be the pregnancy,” they snickered, “must be puking her guts out. Serves her right, the slut.”
I sat down on the toilet seat and cried silently. Why the hell had this happened to me? What did I do, kill Martin Luther King? Destroy the cure for cancer? Step on one too many ladybirds?
Suddenly, the whispering ceased. There was only the sound of a fist hitting the door, and Sophia Lovegood yelling; “Stop with the pity party, come out! Right now!”
She who dares defy Sophia Lovegood is she whom does not live to see the light of day.
I – rather reluctantly – stepped outside.
“What the fuck, Willow? Are you insane? Scorpius can't help having horrible relatives! He's never even met Lucius!”
I didn't answer. I just couldn't be bothered explaining my actions.
Fifi softened, seeing my red, raw cheeks, and hugged me.
“I know this must be so hard for you, but just trust me on this. Scorpius won't hurt you.”
I sat there, under the Imperius curse.
My words were not my words, my actions belonging to another being.
And now I’d lost Rose, because I was too weak to fight off the curse.
Father was weak, for sheltering Grandfather. Then again, maybe he too was unable to act of his own free will. Either way, I hated them both.
I didn't know why, all I knew was that they wanted Willow, and her family, dead.
Willow, you're right, I wanted desperately to say, get away from me. Before I hurt you.
Oh dear! Did anyone see that coming? Siriusly?
As always, review, review, review! Pretty please? It really makes my day!
Any theories, speculation on why exactly Willow's wanted dead (by Death Eaters?!?!)?
Like it, love it, hate it, don't like it? I want to know why!
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