Something Like the Truth
Book One: How to Disappear Completely
Chapter four: Whisper, Whisper, Secret, Secret
A/N: Thanks for the review and towards all of you who added this story into your favorites or alerts. I hope you continue to enjoy it and thanks again!
The exotic noise of chattering soon filled the girl's dorm room and it was mildly because of this I woke up dazed and slightly disoriented. I was unable to pin point my exact location but, if having to give a guess, I would say that I was no longer in Kansas.
Heat danced upon my face as I could feel the morning rays of sunlight welcoming me towards a new day. The heat felt oddly soothing and I soon found myself struggling to stay awake. Groggily, I lay upon my bed with my eyes shut, hesitant of this so called morning and the light it produced. Somewhere between the state of blissful slumber and reality, I deciphered the muffled sound coming from the room. The bits and pieces that managed to carry themselves towards my restful ears sounded oddly like the idle chatter of gossip, fresh upon the teenage girl's mind. Two or three severally hushed voices could be heard delicately form across the room.
Questions such as "is she the new girl," "was she the one riding in that flying car," and "isn't she from America" passed around the room, each one receiving a distinct answer that was just as mildly outrageous as the last. At this point I was surprised they hadn't already accused me of murder.
Deciding now would be the best of times to make my grand entrance, I lazily opened one eye to survey the room before allowing the other to peer open in an identical sluggish fashion. I stretched beneath the starry night covers in a desperate attempt to waken my muscles. With little hope, all they managed to do was prop me into a sitting position. The thought of breakfast soon tempted them and brought forth the much needed desire to touch the hard wood floor. "Good morning," I chimed nonchalantly, hoping to give off the impression that I was only intent upon studying the backs of my eyelids and less of their conversation.
"Morning," they chimed, grateful for the bait. Despite their developed minds, their acting skills were quite mediocre. They stared upon me in a state of self induced shock as they hung themselves upon every word. Shoulder to shoulder they stood as I imagined them as a ring of sausages, unable to have one without the others. This thought surly produced a low grumble within my stomach that could have easily and thankfully been mistaken as a natural moan from the wind bitten tower.
"Are you really from America?" One of the girls, a tad bit braver than the rest stepped forward and reveled herself to be Su Li. Her dark eyes formed a disbelieving glance that fell heavy upon my sudden awaken mind. She was clearly the Alfa of the group for she stood taller than the rest, as if to boast her accomplishment and place. Her jet black hair briefly touched the small of her back as she cocked her head to side in a way to examine me thoroughly. Her dark brown eyes, appearing almost as black as her hair, scanned over me intently in hopes of finding anything faulty with my disposition. It was then that I noticed the two other girls tucked behind their leader, but still sneaking looks towards me, awaiting my answer.
"Yes," I replied slightly dazed from the early integration. "I'm from Georgia. Atlanta to be specific," I added hastily to ease their inquiring gazes. Broad smiles stretched upon each of the girl's lips as they beckoned me to continue explaining.
In turn, the girls seemed quite easy to befriend; all intrigued by my stories of a far away land. It was not long before we formed a pack, often as friends do. In the short time we spent in the dorm, waiting to be let out towards the Great Hall for a much needed breakfast, I got to know the girls. Brief facts stuck in my mind about each one, like Su was Chinese or that Mandy has the complete Sherlock Holmes collection and even that Padma has a twin who was unfortunately sorted into Gryffindor. With the brief information given towards me along with the rushed introductions, I was able to distinguish the two girls in the back to be Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst. Both were good friends of Su, their bubbly and slightly vain leader.
Padma had a dark complexion that was completed by long, gleaming black hair, rich brown eyes, and a face to make boys crazy and girls envious. It was much like Su but it lacked that certain vain flair that demanded attention and instead presented a more natural look that seemed to comfort her quite wonderfully. It was obvious that Su was tad a jealous towards her but it seemed to only strengthen their friendship.
The other girl, Mandy, was a small one with auburn hair that covered the majority of her face, almost as if she wanted to hide from the world. Her dark blue eyes seemed to follow your every movement, questioning its importance as she deciphered the color of your soul. She informed me that mine was less of a certain color and more of a collage that changes often. She reassured me that it was a good thing and it suited me quite nicely. She was quite nice despite her timid appearances and she seemed to fit the Ravenclaw's motto of "wit beyond measure" quite nicely.
Clumped together, we walked towards the Great Hall, gossiping along the way. Truth be told, I was the one doing most of the talking. It was not in me to deny them my story, especially when they were so eager to listen. Occasionally they interrupted me with comments or brief questions about my home.
Upon entering the great hall, my legs found it harder to move as my eyes were rendered incapable of pulling themselves away from the majestic ceiling. A clouded sky replaced the normal painted dome of the ceiling in a way to reflect the actual whether of outside.
"That's nothing," Su's voice danced in my ear, leaving me in wonder of what could possibly be better than this. She brushed the complicated incantation off as if it were a simple party trick. "You should have seen it during the sorting ceremony. Speaking of which," she looked upon me in a quizzical glance, "where were you during the sorting ceremony. I don't remember you there."
"I was busy flying a car into a tree," I retorted a bit uneasily and therefore hoped to pass the entire thing off as a joke with a small, almost minute, chuckle. I still could not believe the incidents that occurred as my eyes scanned the Gryffindor table and rested upon two boys who were eating vigorously, something I felt I should be doing at the moment. In the hustle and bustle of our arrival it seemed that everyone was frantic to sort me into a house and safely put me there until morning that thoughts of food escaped their mind entirely.
A soft gasp from the three girls brought on the thought that food would have to wait as I explained my journey to them. "No way," Padma shrieked with delight. "I didn't know there was someone else with them." This was my cue to launch into the story as we sat down towards the buffet piled upon inviting gold platters that gleamed under the flooded light of the sun mixed in by the assorted candles. The three listened intently upon my explanation, giggling all the while. I left out the owner of the car, feeling it best to have us seem as if we stumbled upon the nightmare and did not create it ourselves.
They sat around me in a dreamy daze as I was happily left to consume my food. However, something gained my immediate attention as I started down into the contents of my goblet to be met by an assortment of gray feathers. Gingerly, I picked up the winged creature, noting the disgusted looks of my fellow Ravenclaw friends.
"That's Ron's owl," Padma explained through her dismayed expression. "He's always landing into people's food."
Nodding absent mindedly, I stretched out from under the table and approached Ron, his winged friend cupped in the center of my palm. "Ron," I began delicately as I held out my hands, "I believe this is yours."
"Errol," Ron called in disappointment as he accepted the gruffly as well as droopy owl. His eyes widened in horror as he looked upon the red envelope he was carrying. It was then that I noticed it too and felt it to be slightly odd and out of place among the other white envelops and letters students received as smoke poured from its corners.
Errol, obviously tired from his journey, slumped back down towards the table with his feet dangling in the air for Hermione to prod gently. The thought of life was questionable among this worn out bird.
Ron gasped as his face scrunched up in horror. An "oh no" was clearly audible from him.
"It's all right," Hermione reassured the group as her prodding ceased to give her analysis, "he's still alive."
"It's not that." Ron rolled his eyes in a scornful look towards Hermione, now questioning her intelligence based upon her, apparently, silly response. "It's that." He gestured towards the letter that I could swear was smoking profusely. It looked quite normal other than this slight flaw but Ron and another boy, who later introduced himself to be Neville, looked at it as if it was sure to start World War III.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked tentatively, just as oblivious to the matter as I was.
"She sent me a Howler." Ron spoke faintly and suppressed a gulp as he hesitantly reached for the steaming red envelope. It seemed that he now gained the entire table's attention for people turned franticly, not wanting to miss a moment.
"You better open it, Ron," spoke Neville, barley audible from his timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" – he paused long enough to gulp – "it was horrible." Shock settled into his face as the memory resurfaced in his mind. Apparently it was not a fond one.
Through a moment's worth of noted silence, Harry asked the question that was on the majority of people's minds, "What's a howler?" His gaze, as well as mine, fell back down towards the small envelope that looked only able to produce a frail paper cut.
Ron failed to respond for he busied himself in pondering over the letter as well as hearing Neville's words of encouragement. Ron reached a shaking hand towards the letter and pried it from the owl's beak. Neville hurriedly stuffed his fingers into his ears and the entire hall soon found out why. For a moment, I thought it had started another war for it shook the room from the sound it produced. Plates and silverware teetered from on top of the tables as the pictures dangling on the walls threatened to fall and only add towards the growing sound.
" – STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY HAD EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE –"
Despite the noise, it was one of the most fascinating things I have ever seen. The envelope folded over itself in the shape of an origami mouth, even pointed to form the line of lips. The tongue was composed of a piece of ribbon that hung on the outside of the envelope for decoration. The letter folded in on itself as well to form white teeth and a mouth with blackened words etched into its white. By now everyone was gawking at the mouth, suspended in mid air from its rage towards the poor Ron who sunk so low in his seat his fiery red hair was the only thing visible. From the shrill voice I was able to detect it's presence to be known as Mrs. Weasley. It was odd to hear her voice echoing through out the halls in such an ear splitting matter. I was still faintly used towards her kind words and was unable to believe she could become this upset. It made me wonder what she had done to the twins for surly they were no angels.
" – LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HARRY AND ABIGAIL – "
At the mention of my name I felt the twinge of regret pull heavy upon my stomach as I sank down with it behind Harry. One glance towards him told me he felt the same. We both failed to realize how sever this was, not towards us or towards this world we try so desperately hard to hide away from everyone, but to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the very people who care for us. I felt so awful that any shred of hunger immediately evaporated to the point of nausea. How could I have done this to them? How could we have done this?
" – ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED – YOUR FATHER IS FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."
Those last six words rang trough out the hall, weaving in and out through the children's ears. Feeling satisfied, the note tore itself up and became ignited in rage till there was only ash. My mind traced over what just happened as we sat stunned from the blast of words. It was apparent in Harry's sick expression that he was thinking the same as me. What have we done?
Questions buzzed through out our head, picking at our brain, leaving us strangely hollow as we stared at the remains of Ron's scolding. Mine was sure to follow but I thanked my lucky stars my parents were muggles and didn't possess the faintest clue towards the horror that is the Howler.
It was Hermione who broke the silence with her smug words that we so well deserved. "Well I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you – "
"Don't tell me I deserved it," Ron pulled from his daze long enough to snap at her. It was on this note that I decided to return back towards my own problems, not particularly wanting to hear more words of disappointment. I sank back down upon my seat, strangely heavy despite my newly developed hollowness.
Mandy passed me a fresh goblet and I gratefully took it, suddenly aware of the dry lump that was throat. Hesitantly I looked down into the goblet to be met with a strange orange liquid that sloshed upon the sides once moved. It looked cool and refreshing despite the possibility of it being carrot juice. "Um," I started in a small voice that was even faint towards my ears, "what is this?"
They looked upon me, odd glances fixed. "It's pumpkin juice," informed Su with an expression that could have been mistaken for concern. I could tell from their looks they were now questioning my sanity.
"Pumpkin juice?" I asked incredulously. I heard her crisp words perfectly but was still unable to decipher their meaning.
My question was met by another. "Haven't you ever tried it before?"
After a brief shake of the head no, I timidly placed the goblet towards my lips and tasted this exotic concoction. It chilled my mouth and washed away any bitter taste, replacing it with one that was sweet. It tasted oddly like Ice Tea but with a hinted spice to it. I could feel a small smile tug happily upon the corners of my lips from my obvious enjoyment as I rested the goblet securely under my lips, prepared to take another sip. This seemed to reignite the friendly conversation as Su took the stage and directed it towards herself.
"Bragging about yourself again Su?" asked an airy voice that carried the sound of laughter along with it.
"Shove off, Kevin." Su dismissed the charming boy with a roll of her dark eyes, clearly irritated about the questioning of her position.
Laughter followed as a group of boys took seats next to ours. They introduced themselves in a frenzy hurry that all sound fuzzed together in incoherent babble. From what I gathered and pulled from clips of Su and Padma, I was able to at least form names to the blur of faces.
Kevin Entwhistle was the full name of the charismatic boy who apparently had some sort of history with Su. It was easy to tell there dislike for each one made no effort to hide it. Snide comments floated around the table towards each one and ended on the abrupt note of Kevin's foot being smashed in. Regardless of his jeers, he always smiled despite Su's words to cause him immediate pain. His physic was nothing that earned him bragging rights over, average weight and height but slightly toned forearms. However, what set him aside from the rest were his golden wavy locks that could have made Lockhart jealous as well as his luminous blue eyes that seemed to twinkle with life. I could be sure in saying that there will never be a dull moment with him.
Opposite from Kevin sat a lanky boy who contrasted greatly towards him with his deep embedded frown. Stephen Cornfoot was the name given to this dreary boy whose face looked as if it refused to cooperate with his bone structure for it sagged and fell long, as if it did not posses the energy to become elastic. His sandy blonde hair fell in strands upon his face, covering his dark set eyes away from the world. It was apparent that his personality matched his grim disposition for the only words he spoke were that of depressing statistics that could overcast any happiness of the world. His nose was constantly buried upon the pages of a book, one that must have been filled with suffering or else he would have put it back ages ago.
Next to him sat a trio of boys and one girl who was trying to bewitch her fork to fight off a comrade. She was known as Morag MacDougal and around her sat Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot. Morag was mainly known as Mac by the guys and obnoxious by Padma and Su. She whole heartily refused to act like her gender and was persistent in her tomboy appearance. Her light brown and wavy hair brushed slightly passed her shoulders from her mother's orders or else she would have cut it shorter a long time ago. She had light blue eyes that seemed to smile at you, despite your actions. I found her quite humorous, especially in her clumsy manner because it assured me that I was not the only one who could trip over their own two feet.
Anthony, a prim and proper boy who had a piercing stare of green eyes and heavily jelled blonde hair, seemed to disprove of her behavior for he nagged at her quite often. She would only brush it aside and call him Annie like in her childhood.
Terry Boot seemed to laugh heartily upon the matter, teasing his friend. He was of average height and bulk but with auburn hair that hid flacks of gold, reminding me of a mid summers day. He had rich chocolate brown eyes that looked upon his friends warmly.
The last boy, Michael, was similar towards dear Annie for he kept himself proper but his mess of a black hair seemed untamable. It was deeply similar towards Harry's and again I felt the ping of guilt bubble forth in my stomach from thinking so.
His voice ripped me from my thoughts as I stared back into the dark brown eyes that contrasted greatly with the pale ivory of his skin. His gaze was cool and calculating as was his voice but I imagined it was only because I was new.
"I read that the majority of Americans were dim witted and focused too much on raging diplomats." He seemed to be curious towards my reply but I was too irritated by his words to tell him if what he spoke was true or not. I found it odd because he did not strike me as the type who would be so forth coming and rude, but never the less, the ball was in my court and I was not about to go easy.
"Well that's just fascinating." I could hear my words finely tuned with sarcasm as they seeped through my mouth, completely undetected by my own mind. "I remember reading somewhere that the majority of Englishmen sit around sipping tea and saying 'Jolly good ol'chap' towards one another." My gaze fell lazily upon his cup of steaming Earl Gray before traveling back up towards his slightly pinked face. "I guess two out of three isn't bad."
"Touché," he muttered through out the giggling of the girls and the snorts of laughter from the boys and Morag.
Our conversation was cut short as Professor Flitwick passed around pieces of paper. I stared at mine bewildered by its blank attire. I nearly dropped it when bold writing formed across the surface. It seemed that we would have double charms with the Slytherins first today and from the groans of my fellow Ravenclaws I was able to decipher that this was not a good thing.