Evelyn was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace when Maureen appeared. The common room was rather empty that Saturday afternoon and Evelyn appreciated the peace and quiet she had found. Luther was curled up in her lap, snoozing happily. Her sister abruptly sat down next to her, waking him. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing in particular," Evelyn answered with a small smile. "I'm just relaxing."
"Mind if I join you?" Evelyn shook her head and she and Maureen sat together chatting.
Since entering Hogwarts they'd rarely spent time together, but now it felt like they were back at the Academy with only each other for company. Yet, it was obvious to Evelyn that her sister wasn't enjoying their conversation as much as she was. Maureen was distracted, losing her place when she spoke, wringing her hands and glancing around the room.
"Is there something wrong?" Evelyn asked, having repeated the same question twice before and only getting a brief nod and nervous twitch in response.
"Well, there was something I wanted to discuss with you." Maureen twisted in her seat to face her properly for the first time since joining her on the couch.
"Go on."
"They're calling you a loon." Maureen's voice was overflowing with concern. "The things they said about you..." It seemed that while Maureen was dawdling with her schoolmates outside, she'd overheard some students speaking ill of Evelyn. This wasn't something new to either of them by any means. In fact, it was getting really old.
"I really don't care what those cretins think of me." Evelyn shrugged.
Maureen sighed and her shoulders slumped. This would be more difficult than she had originally thought. "Must you refer to them as such?"
"Do you really believe that boy's behaviour wouldn't discredit him in my eyes?" Evelyn spat. "As for the rest of them, they stood around and laughed. They're no better."
"I asked Regulus to leave Luther alone," Maureen said desperately. "That way you don't need to worry so much about him. He wasn't going to hurt Luther, I promise you. He was only fooling around as boys do."
Evelyn chuckled humourlessly. "Well, of course, that absolves him then!"
"No one would really want to see a poor animal being mistreated. Not everyone was laughing at you—some people agreed with you, Evelyn."
"Yes," Evelyn huffed, "but not out loud where they could be heard by that Narcissa girl."
Maureen nodded gently. "They were wrong not to speak up, you're right. Though can you really fault them? Narcissa would've given them hell for it."
Evelyn thought on that for a moment. Girls like Narcissa did tend to make life miserable for anyone who opposed them. Evelyn had seen it time and again at the Academy. Maureen's potential friends had turned their backs on her when those haughty girls started to torment them, isolating them from social events and turning their classmates against them. Evelyn's housemates' behaviour was cowardly but perhaps—to an extent—understandable.
"I know they were wrong, but that doesn't make them horrible people," Maureen persisted. "Can't you be a little more tolerant? Besides they don't think too much of you, either. How do you expect to make friends when people think you're a frigid snob?"
"I thought they were calling me a 'loon'?" Evelyn asked.
"It really depends on who you speak to."
At this point, Luther had had enough of this conversation. He stretched and hissed at Maureen. His claws dug into Evelyn's thighs, making her wince. "Stop that," she scolded him.
"Please, Evelyn, don't start talking to that animal. I'm being serious," Maureen groaned.
Luther looked up at her and rolled his eyes. His dislike of Maureen had been plain to see since they were children. Evelyn wasn't sure why, since Maureen had never treated him poorly. Once, when Maureen was four he had scratched her arm and Mr. Gray threatened to put him out on the street. Ever since, Luther had hated her from afar, hiding behind Evelyn and refusing to be near Maureen without bristling and hissing low in his throat.
"They're entitled to their own opinion. What is it you're expecting from me?" Evelyn pulled her braid over her shoulder and began to toy with the end of it, peering at Maureen over the rim of her glasses.
"I just think that if things are going so well for me, they should be for you too. I want you to be happy, like I am." Maureen scooted closer to her eagerly.
"I am perfectly content, I assure you. I'm not burdened by the need to fit in," Evelyn said gently.
"Evelyn, it really would be better if you try to be friendlier and act less strangely. Everyone would be less inclined to mock you," Maureen pushed, her smile becoming strained. She was not going to take 'no' for an answer.
"Why would it be better?" Evelyn folded her arms and gave her an expectant look.
"I really don't enjoy listening to people speak so harshly about my sister, especially when I'm trying to befriend them. I know how lovely you are, and shouldn't they?"
"Why does it bother you so much?" Evelyn asked. "Are these hooligans badgering you for simply being related to me?"
Maureen shrank back a little, caught. "Yes," she squeaked, ashamed. "I'm sorry! I just want everyone to get along."
Evelyn huffed in exasperation. She loved her sister greatly, but Maureen was really taking things too far. First she demanded that Evelyn stay away from her, despite the anxiety she had about doing so. Now Maureen wanted her to act like someone else. "You are asking too much." Luther mewed, seemingly in solidarity.
"I know it's a lot to ask, and I know it's something you really aren't bothered by, but it bothers me. I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb anymore. I want all my new friends to be as fond of you as I am. Is that so horrible?" Maureen bit her thin bottom lip reproachfully.
"I accept that you want to experience the life you've been denied. Why must I take part in it when I have no interest?"
"I mean well, you know that. I think it would be good for you. Would you at least try?"
Evelyn felt her patience wearing thin. She closed her book with a snap and stood up indignantly, Luther leaping down onto the rug beside her and then brushing up against her skirt. "Honestly, it's not as though I run around in the nude screaming at inanimate objects. I'm sane, aren't I? I know this and so do you. Why isn't that enough?"
"Is it ever normal, or sane for that matter, to carry on conversations with a cat?" Maureen countered fiercely. Luther's hackles rose and he stalked away offended, the tip of his tail twitching slightly as he mounted the stairs towards the dormitories.
"I am getting very tired of that word, 'normal'." Evelyn put her hands on her hips and tried to reign in her temper. Wasn't this all a bit selfish on Maureen's part?
Her sister's expectations of her were too high, though. Evelyn wasn't cowed by a need to impress her peers but Maureen obviously was. So much so that she would ask Evelyn, her own sister, to pretend to be someone she wasn't. These insults were being directed at Evelyn, not Maureen. If they didn't bother her, why should it bother her sister? Couldn't she simply ignore them? Though on the other hand, didn't Maureen only have Evelyn's best interest at heart just as she did hers?
Continuing to extol the virtues of popularity, Maureen tried to convince her why altering her behaviour, even a little, was best for everyone. Her sister pleaded until she was breathless and then she began to cough. It was a hoarse cough, which sufficiently distracted Evelyn from the matter at hand. She sat down next to her and rubbed Maureen's back soothingly.
Once she had regained her composure, she placed her head on Evelyn's shoulder.
"I don't want to upset you. I just want for us both to be happy here," Maureen murmured sadly. "Please, can you try to act a little less abnormal?"
Evelyn tried to resist but she could feel her resolve wavering. "Normal is an illusion, Maureen. After all, what's normal for the spider is a calamity for the fly," she spoke slowly.
Maureen raised her head and gave Evelyn a desperate look. "Please," she begged. "Just make an effort. It would mean so much to me." She took her sister's larger, stronger hands between her delicate, cold fingers. "You'll see it's best for everyone."
Evelyn looked away and let out a great sigh.
The conversation came to an end shortly after with Evelyn conceding, as Luther had witnessed her doing so many times before. He had watched the rest of the exchange from the staircase. Evelyn was a stubborn girl with deeply held conviction, but somehow one heartfelt request from Maureen had her yielding to her sister's will; obligated by what she referred to as 'sisterly duty.' Luther shook his head and gave Evelyn a disappointed look when she passed him by. He couldn't understand the power Maureen had over her and Evelyn herself was always underestimating it.
After that conversation, Evelyn found herself facing the gargantuan task of undoing her so-far-earned reputation. Now that Maureen had mentioned it, she could detect the tense atmosphere within her own chambers. Evelyn realized most of the girls in Slytherin detested her. Not that she minded, as she was used to being disliked, but did they actually think her mad? She was not crazy, simply unwilling to conduct herself the way they did. Although to them, Evelyn was sure that meant the same thing.
She closely observed her classmates over the next few days, during lessons, meals, in the common room and dormitory. They apparently thought her a snob and she was not deluded enough to deny this. Evelyn thought herself above her peers' ridiculous standards and therefore would not associate with members of such a vapid and inferior group. This was the definition of a snob so, technically she was one—not that Evelyn specifically cared...but her sister did.
She had promised Maureen that she would aim to be a more conventional sixteen-year-old. So Evelyn feigned small talk with other girls in the lavatory. The girls simply finished preening and rushed off, unnerved. In the library, where Evelyn researched a Potions assignment, she sent small smiles to passersby. Again, students seemed frightened by her attempts. Young Hufflepuffs in particular, though it might not have been her reputation that had them fleeing, but the reputation of the house colours she wore around her neck.
Clearly, being friendly made her even more of a social pariah.
It was late when she finished in the library, almost curfew. Students weren't supposed to be in the halls after nine o'clock. So Evelyn hurried, almost sprinting around a corner, where she collided with someone so hard that they were both knocked off their feet. The impact her elbows made with the floor shook her whole frame, and her glasses slipped off of her face.
She scrambled to right herself, brushing down her robes and collecting the books and rolls of parchment that had fallen out of her bag. The other person, a redhead with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, stood up and tried to assist her.
"I'm sorry," the Gryffindor girl said. "I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you all right?"
Evelyn bent down to pick up her glasses but froze when the girl spoke, standing up straight and looking at her in surprise. As she had long doubted the ability for people her age to be polite, Evelyn was in a state of shock.
"I'm unharmed, and yourself?" she inquired, clutching her bag to her chest protectively.
"No damage done." The girl smiled. "You look familiar."
"It's more than likely we have a class together," Evelyn offered, trying to appear friendly.
The redheaded girl agreed. This Gryffindor had yet to make an insulting comment or run away scared, leaving Evelyn slightly off-balance by the irregularity of it. How awful to realize that she had so naturally expected vulgar, unprovoked treatment from a stranger, but this had always been Evelyn's experience.
The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other and excused herself. "I'm sorry but I was actually on my way to the loo. Have a nice night." Evelyn nodded and hurried off, a little stunned.
Lily Evans, after using the restroom, was making her way back up the hall when a portrait called to her. It pointed to a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles left on the floor. The plump woman who had been meandering through the landscape portrait, informed Lily that they belonged to the dark-haired girl she'd bumped into.
"Wouldn't she have noticed?" Lily asked, putting them in her pocket. Surely a person would realize that they're missing their glasses.
The woman shrugged and returned to wandering through the field of heather. Lily also shrugged and went on her way, declaring that when she saw that same girl in whatever class they shared, she'd return them. The plump woman once more approached the side of the frame to call out to her.
"I'd hurry your pace, dear. Curfew is about to begin," she shouted.
