chapter two: saturday mornings (now i remember)
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Sometimes revolutions don't work out for the best.
Sometimes they move smoothly just long enough for you to grasp the idea that there may be hope; that achieving victory is not as hard as it seems. Sometimes fate just fucks with you and makes you feel like you've got a chance when in reality, you're just the underdog. No chance at all.
No matter how hard you try, if fate wants you to fail, you will.
No one can beat fate.
No one can cheat death.
But you can try.
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A soft groan escaped from Enjolras's mouth as he slowly opened his eyes before squinting at the bright sunlight. The familiar, crisp bedding and the smell of healing potions told him that he was in the Hospital Wing. He immediately raised his arm to block the blinding rays and turned his head to look at the bed to his left. There he saw Grantaire, whose snores were still reverberating through the room. To his right was Bahorel, also sleeping soundly. He sat up and saw Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Feuilly on the other side of the room, also fast asleep. Joly, Bossuet and Jehan walked into the room, accompanying Miss Granger who was pushing a cart of breakfast which was obviously for them; they were the only occupants of the wing as of the moment.
"Rise and shine, my dears!" Miss Granger greeted them cheerfully, smiling brightly as always. Grantaire's snores ceased, and so did Bahorel's. Thank Merlin. Sounds of rustling fabric and sleepy groans filled the room as slowly, everyone woke up. "Time for breakfast. Your friends here were just helping me with your food."
With a flick of her wand, the bowls of porridge and glassed of milk started levitating toward their bedside tables, landing with a soft clunk. As Enjolras started spooning small amounts of porridge to his mouth, he assessed his friends' injuries. He didn't see any bandages on Combeferre; he was really quite good at avoiding major injuries…unless…Courfeyrac, however, had his forehead wrapped with thick bandages. Feuilly, Bahorel, and Grantaire were sporting slings on their arms. Bahorel also had a purple bruise on the corner of his mouth which made him flinch every time he opened his mouth.
Enjolras had a bandage on the side of his head, and a wound on the back of his hand, whose dressing was starting to redden with blood.
"Grantaire, put that bottle down!" Miss Hermione said, seeing Grantaire take out a flask of firewhiskey from his pocket. "You're injured, and it's barely eight in the morning." She gave him a scowl and held out her open hand. Grantaire begrudgingly gave the mediwitch his alcohol, which earned a snigger from most of them. Joly, Bossuet and Jehan each took a seat on the empty beds near them.
"Now, would you kids tell me what happened yesterday?" Miss Granger asked, collecting their empty bowls and glasses and putting them in the sink. She flicked her wand and they started washing themselves.
"Oh, the usual," Courfeyrac said, shrugging. "Nothing that hasn't happened to us before."
Just then, the Hospital doors swung open and in came a breathless Marius Pontmercy.
"O-Oh, er—erm, s-so sorry, I—uh—I just heard," he said, resting his palms on his kneed and breathing heavily. "Is everyone okay?"
"We're fine, just dandy," Grantaire replied.
"Where were you, anyway?" Feuilly inquired. "Jehan, Joly and Bossuet were here presumably before sunrise, considering our dear Prouvaire's love for watching the sunrise and frolicking with the birds in the meadows."
Marius chuckled, and Jehan shook his head in amusement.
"I think that is partly my fault. Dear mister Pontmercy here was still sleeping when we decided to visit, so we decided to leave him behind," Joly offered.
"So, what happened?" Marius asked, sitting down on one of the beds beside Jehan.
"We had double Dark Arts classes with the Ravenclaws yesterday, and…well, er…" Courfeyrac began. His face was dark and hesitant. "The Carrows were talking about the Cruciatus curse—"
"—and tested it on Thènardier. Èponine Thènardier. She's a Muggle-born in our year. Gryffindor," Enjolras said grimly. The fury etched in his features was obvious. Miss Granger's eyes widened in shock.
"Did they really?—"
"And then we hexed the slimy bastards," Bahorel said. "They weren't happy, of course. Well, we did save that Thènardier bird, but we also got our arses landed in detention."
"And we all know what happens in detention," Combeferre added.
"What you did was very noble," Miss Granger said, feeling a surge of fondness for these boys. "And is Miss Thènardier alright? You could have brought her to me. We could never be too sure with the effects of the Cruciatus."
"No, she wasn't cursed," Enjolras said.
"Yeah, because those bastards were on our throats the moment we said 'stop'", Grantaire said.
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Èponine wrapped herself up in her tattered black coat and put on a gray cap as she ventured out of the Gryffindor common room. It was already seven-thirty in the morning, and she was supposed to meet Professor McGonagall at seven. It was a good thing it was a Saturday, there were no other students to mock her about being a 'Mudblood'. When she first entered the school, she had no idea what the term even meant, but with time, she eventually understood, and with even more time, the girl had gotten used to it.
A trip down a flight of stairs led her to the Entrance Hall, where the elderly witch was already waiting. She bowed her head to apologize, but the woman waved it away and insisted that they should get going. They took a walk down a footpath to Hogsmeade, McGonagall briskly leading the way with Èponine not wasting any time and walking to match the professor's pace, which was remarkably fast for an old woman.
Why was Èponine going to Hogsmeade, you ask? As you may or may not know, Èponine came from a poor Muggle family. Her parents were unemployed and often resorted to petty theft and credit card scams to support themselves. She had a younger sister, Azelma, and three younger brothers, two of which were put up for adoption and one, Gavroche, had stayed with them. Sometimes.
Èponine knew how to fend for herself at a young age. When she was younger, she was shamefully a part of their twisted schemes to earn money. At school, she and her siblings were bullied and teased for their haggard appearance. She knew that no one else was going to save her but herself.
Her letter to Hogwarts had been a blessing sent from heaven. She finally had a chance to get away from her abusive and unhealthy family. She jumped on the opportunity right away, much to the distaste of her parents. The first few months were bliss (except for the constant bullying), but she soon received letters from her parents asking for money. She ignored them at first, but they got more insistent, until she gave in and got herself landed in a couple of jobs to support her kin, mostly with Professor McGonagall's help. She couldn't let her family starve.
A few minutes later, they reached the village of Hogsmeade, which was eerily quiet at this time of the day. They ignored all the major shops, and McGonagall took a turn at a dirt footpath behind The Three Broomsticks and stopped at a flower shop bearing the name Fauchelevent's Flowers. She rapped on the wooden door; the windows were still boarded up, but the door creaked open to reveal a charming young girl, around Èponine's age.
"Oh, you must be Professor McGonagall and—"
"Miss Thènardier," McGonagall replied.
"Right," she said, smiling. "Please do make yourselves comfortable, I'll go fetch my father."
McGonagall nodded and settled herself on a couch by the fire. Èponine followed suit. A few minutes of silence followed before the girl entered the room once more, accompanied by an old man with a kind face, who she assumed to be the girl's father. There was something familiar about the two of them, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Professor McGonagall," the man greeted her Professor. "A pleasure to see you. And this must be—"
"Thènardier. Èponine Thènardier," Èponine said, shaking the man's hand, who smiled at her. "Lovely to meet you, sir."
"So, you want a job, eh?" he said, settling himself on a chair in front of them. The girl who greeted them earlier sat beside him.
"Er, I was hoping you could give me that, sir," Èponine said timidly. "I am very much in need of some extra cash."
"Miss Thènardier could offer to work during weekends, as she is still a student. I can assure you, Mr. Fauchelevent, that she is a hardworking, obedient girl," McGonagall said.
"Very well, then," Mr. Fauchelevent said, "I could always use an extra hand around here, and my daughter Cosette could use the company."
"Th-Thank you, sir," Èponine said, looking at the girl who was smiling at her.
"You may start next week, Èponine," Mr. Fauchelevent said.
"Thank you, sir," McGonagall told him. "I guess we should get going."
They walked out of the shop and back to the footpath to Hogwarts, and even though Professor McGonagall kept talking about Èponine's new job, the girl could not think of anything else.
Cosette, now I remember.
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Author's Note: Well, here's the second chapter! I know this story's not that popular, but I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you guys enjoy reading it too.
Reviews are awesome.
Reviews are better than Aaron Tveit, well not really, but I'd love them!
x Revy