Part 1: Hannah's Story
Chapter 2: Reflections
I stood in front of the mirror waiting. My hair fell down my sides; the cold wet strands shocked my skin. Why was I here? What was I looking for? When I had stepped out of the shower, the reflection caught my eye. In the passing moment, I felt like someone else watching me. As if I was in a place to judge. Is that what I'm looking for? A judgement? Perhaps a sympathy. Not a sympathy for myself, but a sympathy for the way others looked: the ways others looked at me.
People have always told me I was beautiful. There was no subtleties in their words. It would be mentioned matter of a fact; as if it was not a compliment, but merely an observation of a truth. The words would feel cold, even even impersonal at times. It felt like their words were targeted at the beauty, and not me at all. Like the beauty was not a part of me, but some sort of parasite. A parasite that was not essential to me; the beauty could be anyone's. It just happened to latch onto me. I never understood the position. I never understood them.
Maybe that was what I was looking for: the beauty. I've never really been able to see myself from the outside. A different perspective could be necessary to spot it. All I needed to do was crawl outside of my skin. Peel off the little remnants, and judge the pile at my feet. I'd be able to yell "eureka! There it is! I've found it." And then sew the skin back onto my body. To be able to proudly show off myself.
I could not see it in the mirror at least. Minutes passed by, the fog of the shower dissipated. Where is it? Where? If it's not in the mirror, then is it somewhere else? I studied my reflection; dissected my appearance; pressed my hand to my breast; felt my rough hair, and I still could not find it. Did I need to dig deeper into myself, or just look into someone else's eyes. Would the beauty be there? But if it was in someone else's eyes, then it would not be in me but them. Then all of their words were lies.
"Hannah, you're looking really good today,"; "pretty as ever Hannah,"; "I love what you did to your hair, Hannah, so cute."
There was no truth to it all. Unless they were playing a different game than I. Only, why had no one told me the rules? Why was I not allowed to play?
I saw those girls in the magazines. We may share height and small waist lines, but how much more we were! How different we really looked. My hair stretched my face; the strands knotted down my back. Their arms were firm and developed, while mine were long and lanky. When I walked, there was no grace. I wobbled from side to side. Any stature or posture was implied. I was a mess.
And I could not understand why no one else could see it.
The water had mostly dried off of my skin. Cold tiles stuck to the bottom of my feet. I was in the girls bathroom in HufflePuff intended for students in their sixth year. It was just past noon; the bathroom was deserted. A small blue towel wrapped around my body, barely covering myself. Sharp movement would bring out a breast, or expose my ass. I spread my weight evenly between my legs, hoping to avoid that. No one else was in the bathroom, but I wanted to ensure I was prepared if anyone entered. It would be foolish not to.
Saturday, the day when everyone has something to do. No one thinks to shower after lunch. It was a nice private time I could fit into my day. Otherwise the bathroom became suffocating. The girls and their issues filled the space with bodies and gossip. Since there are no classes, the common room was probably filled with them. I had no patience for it then. Especially after being so self conscious of my appearance. If any of them complimented my look, I may have punched them in the face.
I brushed my hair, and brushed my teeth. Before I left the bathroom, I dressed myself in a tight pair of bright red pants and a loose tan blouse that extended down my waist. In the dorm room I munched on a piece of bread I had stolen from breakfast. I had skipped lunch; I was not hungry.
I did not want to lounge in the common room. I was not in a mood to hang out with the people who would be hanging out there. Ernie was off somewhere, I did not remember his plans. He mentioned something about going outside with some of the guys, but I had not paid attention to enough of his words. I decided I would head towards the library. A couple of people from the study group would probably be there.
In my years at Hogwarts, I had never spent much time in the library. It was a claustrophobic space, which is not well geared towards studying. Pince also made me uncomfortable. She would slide over, and ask questions in a low condescending voice. As if I was completely lost without her guidance. I'm not sure if she expected me to bow down to her superior knowledge, but it just made me wince. Whenever she came around, a shiver would crawl down my back.
The study group had occurred unexpectedly. I had just entered the library to brush up on Antigone before our test. When Terry joined us at the table, I actually found that I was quite enjoying myself. I never knew the others were such good company. Funny how close you can be to people, yet not know them.
We planned to meet up once or twice more, to help each other out on small tests and quizzes. It quickly devolved into a more common thing. In the past three weeks, since we met up, I found myself often dropping by. Generally one or two of the others would be there. Terry was a rarer sight, which was unsurprising considering his social life. Still, I would not have expected to see him there as often as he was. It was kind of nice to have a place to just drop by like that. Especially when my tolerance for HufflePuff students was low. I wondered what the others got out of it, and what Terry did too. He was such a popular kid, but he was really private too. Listening to him speak, it felt like he was telling you everything you needed to hear. But he never talked about himself; all of his secrets were locked down. It must be lonely, to be that seperate, while surrounded by everyone.
I walked through the HufflePuff common room quickly. Without a sideways glance to see who was there, I made for the door. My eyes stayed at my feet. Keeping my focus insular, I walked down the stairwell; through the hallway to the right; by the main hall; short breaths; to the library.
The library was bare. After the first week of classes passed, it became far less dense. People either got bored of the books, or found better places to study. The change was welcome; it brightened my day whenever I knew there were not too many people. I did not like being crammed in a small space. Felt like it was encroaching on my freedom. Plus, it was much easier to walk around now.
At the back, I found Theodore Nott leaning into his chair. The front two chair legs were off of the ground. A single book rested on the table open facing downwards. Nott's gaze was towards the ceiling. His concentration was on other things.
Nott wore a tight black shirt, and skinny grey jeans. His hair was a messy clump of black. Holes allowed his bare knees to poke through his pants. Large sunglasses blocked his vision. A leather jacket was draped over the back of his chair. Punk Rock was a serious thing for him.
"Hey," I greeted, taking a seat across from him.
Turning his head downwards, Nott acknowledged my presence. He pushed himself forward; the front chair legs reconnected with the ground. "Speak of the devil," he declared confidently. He pulled the sunglasses downwards, to receive an unaltered look at me.
There I was, once more in the gaze of another. What did he see, when he looked at me? I could only wonder. I hoped he did not view me the same as the others did, but I would not blame him. I just wished someone would see past that. "How so?" I asked, confused by his statement.
"Someone was just here asking for you."
"Who?"
"Cedric Diggory."
Cedric? I repeated the name in my head. Why was he asking for me? Cedric was a year ahead of us at Hogwarts. In HufflePuff, he was one of the most popular boys. He was a prefect, and a member of the Quidditch team. His blonde hair was always well kept; his dress was neat and careful. He'd always wear a black tie. It was his person mark on every situation. He was also smart. One of the few popular kids in HufflePuff who I would give that distinction. His levelheadedness and well spoken approach to situations was an admirable quality. I respected him, but we moved in separate social circles. HufflePuff is a clique driven house, the different years rarely communicated.
"What'd he say?" I aked.
Nott sat back in his chair. "He didn't mention. Just said something about wanting to talk to you."
"What about?"
"No idea."
This was frustrating. It must be special if he went looking for me. I hope it was not about anything serious. Then again, how would Cedric have something serious to tell me? Maybe he wanted to know where someone was. But then, why enter the library to look for me? He could have been grabbing a book, and it was just convenient. Still though, who would I know that he would want to know about?
"It's funny" Nott started to talk. I shifted my focus towards him. "To see Cedric like that. I've only seen him from afar before. Never had a reason to talk to him. Never liked the crowds he was with either. Anyways," Nott tried to get back on topic, "did not expect him to act like that. Kind of shy."
Shy? Why would Cedric need to be shy? I could not image his endless confidence wavered in any way. "Was he up to anything in the library?" I asked.
"No," Nott paused momentarily, thinking. "At least, I don't think so. I did not really see him enter, but he must have come directly here. He left right afterwards too. I was surprised he even knew you might be here, or that I would know where you were. Didn't think anyone like that paid any attention to us, me." He corrected himself.
"I guess you're not as invisible as you thought," I suggested.
He laughed at the suggestion. "Maybe not. I blame the new punk rock look."
"Must be."
Nott and I continued together in silence for a while. I brought out a text book from my potions and chemistry class, but my mind was elsewhere. Cedric kept appearing before my eyes, blocking my view of the words. Each page I tried to read was filled with him; the other thoughts quickly dissipated into oblivion. There was no use trying to study in my state. I was gaining no knowledge. Only thoughts of that boy stayed in my head.
I barely knew Cedric. We'd shared pleasantries a couple of times, and attended a couple of the same parties. His words were always fleeting, as if he was trying to fill the space between us. He was not nearly as personable as Terry. Although the two of them were similar. Both were smart: academically and socially. They knew how to move around a crowd, and how to read a situation.
I had a crush on Cedric during third year, after he complimented one of my paintings. The HufflePuff art club had been displaying their paintings. I stood under mine, shy at the thought of others inspecting my work. Most people walked by, nodding their heads silently. Their focus only given momentarily; a custom of respect with little interest in the specific work. Cedric stopped though; his eyes engrossed in the picture. He stood there for a minute, with the river of the other students flowing behind him.
"Wow," he commented. His attention directed towards the work.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"It's beautiful. Amazing. Easily the best work here."
The moment was brief, but it had a lasting impression on me. I was enamoured. This was before boys started paying attention to me, and liberally giving away compliments. I started to ask around, for information on Cedric. My crush soon became common knowledge within the house. I even painted Cedric a painting as a gift; it rested on the foot of my bed. But then I became ashamed, and the teasing was too much. So I tried to kill the rumours, and end the crush.
I wonder if he ever knew about the crush. Enough people did, that it would not surprise me. I'm not even sure why I was so ashamed by teasing. The were only reiterating something that was true: I liked him. The words and gossip never got malicious. They were more like a compelling secret; a code to understand that you were in the know.
It affected me though. I remember lying in bed, fearing the others conversations. Were they talking about me? What were they saying? It was like I was being persecuted. When I decided to end the rumors, and to renounce the crush, it was a firm break. I made it known to my friends. Announced it with confidence, even though I had none of the sort. I stopped painting around then too. Never received another compliment for my work. The only times someone called something of mine beautiful, was to compliment my appearance.
I put my book back down on the table. There was no need to keep it within my hands. I was not reading it. Solemnly, I sat back into my chair; my thoughts dancing around in my head. Nott lounged in his chair. His face stern, and staring into nothing. Between us was silence. A dense field divided by the wooden table. I dared not speak. I had no interest in speaking. I did not know what I felt like. I was uncomfortable. We stayed in that arrangement for a few minutes. The silence stayed hovering in the space between.
"You alright?" Nott finally interjected.
"Huh?" I asked. I had not heard his voice, my focus was elsewhere.
"You have an agonized look on your face." Nott observed, sounding empathetic.
I must not have been hiding my emotions well. I was not even agonized, that was the wrong word for it. Confused, I was confused. Confused, and distressed by my confusion. I did not like the gaps in my knowledge. "Oh, sorry," I said by instinct. "I just wonder why Cedric asked for me."
"Unfortunately I can't tell you. Perhaps you should ask around, or find him. One of them would tell you."
"Yeah," I agreed.
"You think he's going to ask you out?" Nott asked. His voice was harsher with those words. As if he was vested in the outcome.
It was a distinct possibility. Hell, it was likely. I just did not want to convince myself that was it. Not until I talked to him. "Maybe."
"Do you get a lot of those?" Nott asked.
"A lot of what?"
"Of guys asking you out?"
"A couple." It started during fourth year. My hair grew out, and my muscles filled in. And the boys' confidence grew. I'm not sure exactly what the reason was. The first time took me off guard, as did the second. I never expected to get asked out at all. In total there were about five confessions. Some were serious; some weren't: just a boy or two who asked out all of the pretty girls. I never said yes. Why? I'm not sure. It was the only answer I could think of at the time. As if the other option did not exist at all. Or that my body wouldn't let me imagine it. A sort of deep seed, and natural repression.
"Ever say yes?"
"No," I said with reserve, almost a little ashamed of my total rejection.
"Why?" Nott continued his line of questioning.
Was he looking for an answer, or just curious? I answered nevertheless: "I'm not sure. Never seemed right. None of them were the right kind of guy. I didn't know them well enough."
"Cool," he responded backing off of the topic.
"It's not like I have unreasonable standards, or at least I don't think I do." I tried to legitimize my position. I'm not sure why. The words just started coming out of my mouth. "I just never thought they were the right kind of guy for me, you know? Like they were the kind of people who only like girls who're skinny and have long hair, if you get my reasoning."
"Do you wish you had short hair?" Nott asked. He was leaning forward from his chair. Unlike his usually lounging manner, his head was extended forward. I did not understand his interest. Why would he care about me? And especially what my hair length was.
I have never really thought of the question really. Since I was a little girl, my hair had been long. Over the past couple of years it'd grown down towards my waist. In all honesty, I did not like it very much. But short hair? That seemed like an extreme solution. "I'm not sure," I tried to respond truthfully.
At that moment, the two of us were joined by Hermione. A couple of books were held within her arms, pressing against her breasts. She seemed poorly kept. Her shirt was too long, hanging past her waist. The skirt held down to her knees. It was a mild beige colour. Her curly hair extended outwards. Yet, she did not seem to mind. Her usual smile was held on her face. Her confidence unwavering.
"Hey guys," she greeted, sitting down at the table. "What's up?"
"Hannah's about to be asked out by Cedric," Nott announced in a playful voice. He smiled. I threw a scowl at him.
"Really?" Hermione said. Her curiosity seemed peaked. "What do you mean by 'about to'? How do you know?"
"He came around here asking for her, before she showed up."
"Oh," Hermione's voice deepened with understanding. "I get it. He wouldn't know to ask here, unless he was really asking around. That's kind of cute. Was dedicated enough to ask the study group. He must really want to see you."
"We don't know for sure though," I tried to add. It might be good to ground the conversation in reality. Talking about a hypothetical was pointless.
Unfortunately, they did not agree. Hermione straightened in her chair, as if she had just had an important and exciting idea. "He must hope to ask you to come with him to the party tonight! That's why he's asking around right now, he won't be able to after the Quidditch match starts."
"What party?" I asked curiously. I had an idea of what Hermione was referring to. Now that I thought of it, Ernie had mentioned a party when he left HufflePuff in the morning. He was probably involved in some way. He always was.
"The party after the Quidditch game. It's the first one of the season. Harry and Ron were talking about it."
"Are you going?" I asked her.
Hermione chuckled to herself. "No, I'm not sure I would enjoy it. I'm not much of a party person. We decided we'd just hang out in Gryffindor instead. We'll have more fun in that case."
"Fair enough."
The conversation drifted away from Cedric for a while. Hermione wanted to focus on some of her work, while Nott and I shared words about our classes. None of the information was relevant. It served to fill the time. And avoid the topic neither of us wished to talk about. I pushed my hand through the strands of my hair. Nott pushed his thumb to his forehead.
Eventually I got up from my spot. I had done no work, and our conversation had been about nothing for a while. There were other things I could be doing, other things more important than now. At least, there was something else on my mind. I could do nothing here with my focus elsewhere. I needed to deal with it.
Sharing a quick goodbye with Hermione and Nott, I walked out of the library. I headed in the direction of HufflePuff. Cedric would probably be there. Or someone who knew where he was would be. My steps were small. I was pushing through a sea of apprehension. I knew I needed to see him, but I didn't want to. What if it was really about nothing? What if it was really about something? Both options scared me. I did not know what to do. All of the possibilities played through my mind like a theatre project in the front of my mind's eye. Although, the projections were not real. They were only dreams. Dreams of how things could be, and how I would act. They were unlike reality really, unlike it at all.
As I entered HufflePuff, I drew in a large breath. Here goes nothing, I assured myself. In the entrance way, Cedric stood surrounded by seventh years. They were mid conversation, someone was telling exaggerated story. Filled with large expressions, and flailing arms.
Cedric saw me right away. His attention turned from his friend. The expression on his face immediately changed. A small smirk grew on the side of his face. I stood frozen in his gaze. He motioned towards me. I wonder if he was waiting there, just to catch me if I entered. He did not seem to mind missing more of his friend's yarn. I did not mind either, to be honest. I wanted to see him. To hear his words. To hear a compliment once more. But not on a painting: on me. Only, this time it would be different. He wouldn't be just another one of those boys. His compliment would be real. It would be well intentioned. It would be about me, and not my beauty.
Separating from the others he said "hey Hannah."
"Hey Cedric." I greeted. "I heard you were asking about me."
"Yeah," he admitted. He scratched the back of his head, and looked towards the ground. Almost if he felt a little ashamed of his actions, or perhaps a little shy. I think I saw a little red dye his cheeks, but that may have just been the light. "Glad that kid told you my message, what's his name again?"
"Nott, Theodore Nott."
"Cool," he chuckled, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness. "Hey, I was wondering," he breathed deeply, and stared directly in my face. "I was wondering if you would like to go to the party tonight with me. It should be a fun time."
He was direct. I did not mind. "Sure," I answered. Almost before I even thought about it, the words jumped out of my mouth. As if it were an automatic response; a determined fact of my life, by the molecules running around in my brain. I didn't mind it. I didn't mind not needing to be convinced. It felt natural. It felt right.
"Cool," he responded. He sounded surprised. Maybe he did not think it would be that easy.
"Yeah, when do you want to meet up?"
"How about around 8?"
"Cool."
With only that, I walked away from him. Confident in the situation. Confident with my responses. And confident with myself.
...
Author's Notes: This was a fun chapter! I'm not sure I've ever written such a long chapter in the first person before. Each of the four parts of the story will be told in the first person, probably. So long as I feel like it.
There will probably be two more chapters of Hannah's part. I think it's going well so far.
Please Leave a Review.
Thanks. BJ.
