Chapter 2: Is This the End?
Julianne didn't finish any of her homeworks. In fact, the pile was getting bigger and bigger, and she just ignored it, dedicating all of her time to chain-smoking and drinking when she had an opportunity. She even became rude to her friends and ex-team mates, answering to all of their questions about her missing the practices with "Sod off. Ask Wood.". Nobody really wanted to talk to her anymore, because her mood was terrible, and when Katie Bell tried to cheer her up, she ended up crying after Julianne called her "a mental little tart".
"All right. I will divide you into pairs, and you will write an essay about human transfiguration. Yes, miss Ellis, right now. I see you are alone, miss Middleton. Mr. Wood, come sit over here." Professor McGonagall pointed at the empty seat next to Julianne, making her groan loudly and roll her eyes.
"Silence, miss Middleton." Her brow raised at Julianne's reaction.
Oliver Wood threw his books on the right side of her desk, and she moved further to the left, just to get away from him. The smell of his aftershave was too aggressive, just like him, she thought.
"So... What are we going to do?" He asked, looking at her, but she just looked away coldly, ignoring him.
"You just continue with giving me the silent treatment. I'm going to tell McGonagall that you didn't want to do any work."
He was acting like a child, she thought. And she really, really wanted to just knee him in the groin and leave him wailing in pain on the Transfiguration classroom floor.
She spent the rest of the class scribbling nonsense on a piece of parchment with visibly annoyed Wood glaring at her and trying to write the essay all by himself with no success at all.
As soon as the bell rang, she picked up her bag and ran out of the classroom, stopping only to take a quick glance at McGonagall who was having a conversation with Wood, who was obviously trying to explain something, pointing at Julianne.
She ran up to the common room that was, thank Merlin, empty because everyone was in Great Hall for lunch, and lit up a fag, before throwing her bag on the floor carelessly and sitting down in an armchair. Giving Wood the silent treatment didn't make her feel better. It will not get her back on the team, and she knew it. Pulling a bottle of Firewhiskey from her bag, she thought how much she missed it. It was almost a week from their fight, and even though she hated Wood, she missed the practices and the other players, even if she was blatantly rude to them in the last few days. They didn't understand, but it was her defensive mechanism. If she talked to them, she would probably break down and start crying, remembering the great times they had as a team, she thought as she took another sip from now half-empty bottle.
Finishing the bottle and opening a new cigarette pack, she felt a bit light-headed, so she laid down, hoping she would sober up a little before Herbology, when she heard the voices behind her.
"I've seen you fly, you're pretty good." A deep, unusually familiar voice said.
"Yes, I know... But stop it!" A female voice giggled.
"So... We need a chaser, and I'm thinking about taking you..." He laughed, and the girl giggled again.
"In what way? Doesn't matter, I'll do it anyway." Another giggle, and Julianne rolled her eyes so hard she felt they could fall out of her head.
"Lucy, you've got the place in team. And we'll see about the other stuff later." Laugh and giggle.
Julianne almost screamed when she heard that name, but her own palm against her lips stopped her. Lucy? Sodding Lucy Babcock? The tartiest, most snobbish little bleached tart in the whole world? The one who didn't know how to mount a broom properly? Bloody hell, she thought. Something inside of her broke, and she arose from the chair with a cigarette in her hand, and ran past surprised Wood and Lucy out the portrait hole, tears starting to slide down her cheeks. It was too much. This was all too much. She sat on the floor, her back flat against cold stone wall, and just cried, feeling empty and somehow betrayed. Never in her life would she thought that Oliver Wood's rejection would hurt so badly, but it did. Not just that, but it seemed like everything had piled up. She was failing most of her classes, nobody wanted to talk to her anymore because of her constant mood swings, and this whole Quidditch stuff... She hoped to play after she finished school. And she gave everything she had to that sport. Five years of her sodding life. To be rejected for smoking that didn't even interfere with her playing. Her future was now destroyed.
"No, Julianne Middleton. No." She took a deep breath.
"Crying is for weaklings. You are a big girl. Shit happens, remember? You just have to get up and keep going. Try again. You can't just give up. Come on. It's not over, not yet." She said loudly, wiping the tears from her pale face and raising from her spot beneath the window.
"Talking to yourself? Finally gone mental, eh, Middleton?" Oliver Wood just exited the common room, with a huge grin spread over his face.
She didn't know how it happened, but her clenched fist just connected with his jaw in a swift motion, and he looked her in the eyes surprised, rubbing the sore, red spot on his face.
"If you don't know why I did this, you're a bloody idiot." She said in an extremely cold voice.
"Why? Maybe I am an idiot, but I don't know why you did it. Is it because you're frustrated for being kicked out of the team? It's your fault entirely. I told you that would happen if you don't quit with that lungs-destroying shit, but no, you defied me. You did it all yourself." His voice raised, and his usually nice features sharpened, making him look like a madman.
"No! It's not my ruddy fault! I am a smoker since I was 13 years old and it has never interfered with my playing! Bloody hell, Wood! I am not stupid or mental, I know you just wanted to find a reason to kick me out so you could give my place to your tarty girlfriend Lucy Babcock! Go to hell." She felt it again, tears building up in her eyes, threatening to spill every moment.
"Not only are you mental and stupid, you're paranoid too. Lucy Babcock is far better player than you and that's why she's in the team. And she's not my girlfriend. Listen, you immature, stubborn tart, if you're not as fit as she is, that's no reason to be jealous of her."
That was it. Her fist, this time the right one, collided with his jaw once more, but in one quick motion, he grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall.
"Shove off!" She tried to knee him in the groin but he dodged it, pinning her with his whole, muscular body even harder against the cold wall.
"Will you stop hitting me?"
"No, I won't! You destroyed my future! You took away the only thing I love, and no, I will not stop hitting you until you're dead!" She screamed into his face that was mere inches away from hers.
"You're drunk." He let go of her wrists, her arms falling to her sides.
"Skip Herbology and get sober, McGonagall wants to see you in her office after the class. I will think of some excuse for you. Go now. We will talk later, when you're sober and thinking straight." He sent her off, and she actually obeyed, automatically climbing through the portrait hole and up the stairs, throwing open the door of girls dormitory. Jumping over piles of clothes, magazines and books on the floor, she approached her bed, with one swift movement of her hand throwing books and parchment on the wooden floor.
Picking up some of the clean clothes from her bed, she headed for the bathroom, staggering a little, but managing to stay on her feet. She peeled off her clothes from her body, and gratefully stepped into the shower, letting the hot water clear her head and thoughts. Wood had really been acting odd in the hallway. She really expected him to hit her back after she punched him, but he didn't. In the end, he was even kind of nice to her, she thought as she shampooed her hair. And why the hell did McGonagall want to see her? Probably because of that essay.
She stepped out of the shower, feeling much better and somewhat relieved, and wrapped a fluffy towel around her body, throwing herself on her bed. She laid there for fifteen minutes, with a fag in her hand and staring at the ceiling, letting her mind float freely, waiting for the bell to ring. She was definitely sober now, and she arose, putting some clean clothes in, and drying her hair, before heading down the stairs.
Common room was full of third and sixth-year students, Lucy Babcock the loudest of them, and Julianne threw her an evil glare as she exited.
Climbing a few flights of stairs, she felt a sharp pang in her lungs from smoking, and slowed down, catching her breath in front of McGonagall's office, before knocking politely.
"Come in, miss Middleton." A voice replied from inside.
"Sit down." Professor McGonagall was sitting at her desk, and pointed at a chair right across her.
"You needed to see me, Professor." Julianne said in a calm, slightly cold voice.
"Yes. Mr. Wood has informed me that you are no longer in the Quidditch team. And since you're failing most of your classes, the Teacher's Council has discussed about you a lot in the last few meetings."
Teacher's Council? What the bloody hell? Does that even exist? Julianne thought as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. That definitely cannot be good.
"Never in the history of our school have we had such a student. Miss Middleton, you and I know that you are brilliant. But Gryffindor or any other house, for that matter, will not tolerate your laziness, class-skipping andyour kind of behaviour. "
"And you know what I mean by that. Smoking, drinking and disrespect cannot be tolerated from you anymore."
"We are giving you a chance here. You have two weeks to get back on the team and pass all of your classes. In the contrary, you are going to be sent home."
"Expe-" Julianne's voice broke, and her eyes widened.
"Yes, miss Middleton. Expelled."
"But Professor-"
"No buts, miss Middleton. You are free to go now." McGonagall's voice remained icy cold, and Julianne could feel her eyes following her as she walked out slowly from her office.
She ran up to the closest girl's bathroom, and lit up a fag, sliding on the cold floor once again today. How the hell would she get back on the team again now that Lucy Babcock had her position? And there is no ruddy way that she's going to plead Wood to take her back. Bloody Wood. He probably ratted on her to McGonagall. That's what happens when you dedicate yourself completely to just one thing, she thought. And then it all falls apart. She should have been studying, doing homeworks and not skipping classes. Now she's going to be sent home. She really didn't want that, because Hogwarts was her real home, and she didn't want to go back to her father and step-mum. They always drove her absolutely mental with their rules, prohibitions and ranting about how she had to marry a pureblood wizard.
"I'm thick. Thick, thick, thick." She kept saying as she bashed her head against the wall.