Part 2: The Unloved Kids
"I'm glad that's over," Ron commented, stepping out of the entrance to Gryffindor. He turned right, and headed down the hallway. Around his shoulders, he wore his official Gryffindor robe; his large prefect P patch was sewn on the left side, over his heart.
"Explaining the rules of the Halloween Ball to the first years is an important task." Hermione added, following behind him. She held a clipboard against her chest, beneath her crossed arms. She stood tall, with straight posture. The letters HG were written over her prefect P patch.
Ron turned around, and stared at her. "Just because it's important, doesn't mean I have to like it. I didn't like those talks when we were given them by prefects in first year, and I sure as hell don't enjoy giving them myself."
"You take such pride in your responsibilities."
"Probably why they made me a prefect." Ron turned back around, and continued to walk down the hall. "I'm going to head to the Ravenclaw/Slytherin game. Hopefully I can catch the end of it. Want to join me?"
"Sure," Hermione said.
"By the way, are you going to the Halloween Ball with anyone?" he asked.
"You know I'm going with Draco. The Head Girl and Head Boy always attend together."
"I know. But, I heard Draco was going with Pansy."
"Yeah, that's right. Pansy's his date. We're not going as an item or anything."
"Alright, are you planning on going as an item with anyone?"
"No. How about you?"
"Lavender's going to go with me."
"Cool," Hermione said, coldly. "You know what? I think I'm going to head off by myself, maybe grab some fresh air."
"Alright," Ron acknowledged. "I'll see you later then."
"Yeah."
Hermione gave Ron a slight wave, and turned a corner. She walked down a level, and headed for a door to the outside. She left the building, and walked out onto the stairs on the outside of the building. The late October afternoon light was slowly receding into night. Cheers could be heard from the Quidditch stadium. The game was in its final exciting minutes. Hermione breathed deeply, and quickly wiped a tear from her eye.
The grounds outside were empty. Students were either at the Quidditch game, or hiding from the cold fall air. Standing on the steps, Hermione shiverred. A bitter wind blew by. From a distance, she could her what sounded like music; it was distorted, and muffled, but playing loud enough that she could hear it clearly. She stepped down from the steps of the entrance, and walked along the wall of the school.
Following the music, she found three students loitering at the side of the building: Wayne Hopkins, Tracey Davis, and Theodore Nott. Wayne wore his black leather jacket, a ripped black t-shirt, and tight black pants. On his shoulder, he had a HufflePuff pin with the red line through it. His hair was spiked, with white highlights on the tips. He stood straight, tapping his hand against his side, and smoking a cigarette. Nott leaned against the wall. His Morrissey quiff rustled in the wind. He wore his long black wool coat, with the letters HATE written across the back, a black dress shirt, and tight brown pants. A cigarette bogarted between his lips; both his hands rested in the pockets of his coat. Tracey sat on the ground between them. Her legs were crossed beneath her long black skirt. She wore a black blouse, with a choker around her neck. Her black slick hair was cut about her shoulders, with one or two strands crossing over her forehead, giving the illusion of bangs.
Hermione approached them gingerly. She held the clipboard tight against her chest.
"What do you want Head Girl?" Wayne called out to her.
She paused in her spot, "I, uh," she stuttered.
"Back off Wayne," Tracey commented, her voice soft.
Wayne took a step back, but kept his gaze centred on Hermione.
"What's up Hermione?" Tracey asked.
"Nothing really. I was just walking by, and I heard your music."
"You like it?" Tracey asked.
"Sure," Hermione said. "But I don't know what it is."
"Come on Tracey!" Wayne interjected. "You're just going to sit there and let her try to soften you up? She's obviously here for a reason. No one just approaches the unloved kids unless they've been told to. So what is it Head Girl? What do you want?"
"I," she paused, "I don't want anything."
"Yeah, then why do you have a clipboard? Are you going to try to force us to help out with the Halloween Ball? If so, then fuck off. If you're here to observe us, and report back to your fascist masters, then you can doubly fuck right off."
"Wayne!" Tracey called at him, her voice still reserved. "Can you please shut the fuck up! Do you not think I can handle myself? I'm perfectly fine, and I don't need your help. If you keep acting like that, then it's you who can fuck right off."
Wayne stood still for a moment, before leaning back on the wall, and flicking his cigarette onto the ground. "Whatever..." he said under his breath.
Tracey turned her attention back towards Hermione. "It's My Bloody Valentine by the way."
"It's good," Hermione reiterated.
"Cool. It's Nott's album."
"Which is shocking," Wayne added, "considering mister Ian Curtis wannabe's taste. Talking with him, you'd think music ended in 87 after the Smiths broke up."
"I don't think you should be judging me for liking older music Wayne. You always go on about LA Hardcore; Both Black Flag and Dead Kennedys broke up in 86, before the Smiths." Nott spoke. His cigarette dangled between his lips; his hands stayed still inside the front pockets of his coat.
Wayne raised his shoulders. "Sure, but I also like music that's come out this year: Bad Religion, NOFX, while for you, it's a miracle you like a single album that's come out this decade."
"Yeah, well maybe the 90s suck." Nott exhaled, with one long breath, letting the smoke crawl out of his lips."
Hermione stood still; a cold wind blew past. "What do you think of this music Tracey?" she asked.
"What? Loveless?" Tracey said. Hermione nodded her head. "It's okay. Sounds a little too much like noise to me. I never got into Sonic Youth either. I prefer something with a clearer melody. I mean, it's good, but when you look at what else came out that year..."
"Like what?" Hermione asked.
Tracey smiled. "Like the best album ever."
Hermione stared at her with a blank face.
"Dry." Tracey clarified.
"I'm not familiar..." Hermione began.
"You don't know PJ Harvey?"
"No..."
"We're going to have to fix that," Tracey spoke forcefully.
Hermione spoke hesitantly: "sure."
"Look, we're having this thing tonight in the east tower, room 702. Why don't you drop by, maybe around 9 or 10, and we'll listen to some PJ."
Hemione stood still. Staying after ten would be breaking curfew. But, deep in her stomach, something excited her. "Okay." she said, half commital.
"Great." Tracey smiled. "We'll see you there." She grabbed her bag, slipped it around her shoulder, and headed towards the entrance of the school. Wayne picked up the old RCA boombox, and stayed close to her, staring at his feet. Nott stood still for a moment, until sighing, throwing his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out, and following suite. As he passed by Hermione, he flashed her a small smile. Hermione watched him walk by, the letters HATE were written on the back of his jacket.
Hermione stood still. She held the clipboard close to her chest. A cold wind blew past. Cheers could be heard from the stadium as the game ended.
...
Author's Notes:
The name 'Unloved Kids' comes from a Marina and the Diamonds song called "I am not a Robot". The line goes:
You've been hanging with the unloved kids
Who you never really liked and you never trusted
I listened to that song repeatedly while writing this story, along with songs by PJ Harvey and Joy Division.
I hope you liked it.
Please Leave a Review.
Thanks. BJ.
