Part 2: Terry's Story

Chapter 6: Postcards

I found myself at a loss for words. We stood around the table. Anthony and Kevin had mischief held within their eyes. They were excited by the suggestion. Their imaginations ran off with the possibilities; sticking their interests where they did not belong. The two of them were endless sources of gossip. To them, this was kindling begging to be burnt; only needing the spark of their touch.

Stephen had shrugged his shoulder, and moved out towards the window of the dorm. He opened it a sliver, to feel the fresh air enter the room. The windows were three feet tall with large windowsills level with the beds. Stephen smoked a cigarette every morning there. The smoke would be carried outside by the draft. To hide his trail, he left a carefully crafted spell to hide that gunk stench smoke left in the room.

Michael had only just woken up. His participation was due less from curiosity, than a sense he should be involved. All of his focus was dedicated in discovering whatever we were focused on, despite his total disinterest in whatever it was. His clothes consisted exclusively of the boxers hanging down his hips. A couple hairs climbed up the middle of his waist; cutting his chest into a symmetry. Michael's muscles were refined. He felt like an aberration on the Ravenclaw tendency to avoid the body and to focus on the mind. He played better Quidditch because of it; better than the excuses Ravenclaw produced for Quidditch players.

The note rested on the table. The pressure was on me to comment. Wherever the conversation was headed, would be steered by my next words. Did we laugh? Did we mock? Did we talk seriously, which could never really be serious in this room. The dorm room of Ravenclaw was a place for jokes and for prejudices. There was no place for some sort of reasoned position here. An ironic propensity considering Ravenclaw's insistence on an academic atmosphere. All of the boys were smart; at least many of them were. Unfortunately smart kids do not equate to a more enlightened circumstance. They can be just as hateful; just as simple; just as unsatisfying.

Which was the best option for me? My thoughts were irrelevant really. They would never listen to what I wanted to give them. Their pallets would never be satiated by those words. My words needed to be theirs. And my words were theirs. I had made none of them. I'd only learned the words from them; their language a simple system to perform. The only real option now was how to perform it. There were still many possibilities available, even in such a limited circumstance.

"Anybody know anything about her?" I'd leave it up to their own discretion. Anthony and Kevin looked at each other, trying to determine whether or not they had any idea. Their eagerness overstepped their own knowledge of the situation. Both wanted to jump in, and give me their opinion, but they had no real opinion. They just wanted to be involved. Which was alright; wish I could have traded with them. I just wanted out.

"Her name's Luna Lovegood, I think." Stephen called over from his window. The cigarette held between his lips. He stared out of the window; sucking up the beauty the tower allowed. Ravenclaw was in the south-east tower of the school. The upper year dorms were on the top floors. Our view looked over the forest, deep into the hills. Stephen sat on the windowsill; his pack of cigarettes and lighter rested beside him. "She's from the year below us. I've talked to her a bit. Asked me about Terry yesterday. She seems cool, but sort of off. Not sure if she'd be worth the trouble. I'd suggest not pursuing anything Terry."

She had no chance truly. I'd talked to her a bit myself. Her words sounded weak; an exasperated whisper whenever she spoke. She was nice, just often misunderstood. This morning, I woke to a knock on the door of our dorm. Sue Li stood on the other end, holding a postcard. She told me not to hurt Luna; Sue had been in a similar position. I'm sorry Sue. I'm sorry Luna too, I guess. I just cut it off faster this time; I knew myself now. I did not know myself with Sue. Ravenclaw knew me even less; the students with their jagged eyes always seeing me wrong.

Luna had written out a love note on the postcard, trying to express her feelings. The words were a confession of she felt about me; how important I was to her. It was not so much a love letter, but a cry for help. A letter asking for help to be understood. I knew the sentiment well. Better than she could imagine. Unfortunately I could not help her, and she could not help me; not in this way at least.

I would have quickly done away with the note, no point in making it a public affair, but Kevin had noticed Lisa pass me the note. Kevin loved any sort of drama within the Ravenclaw house. His gossiping was a sort of validation whenever he was involved, that way he knew he was a part of something bigger. Anthony jumped on it too, for many of the same reasons. Kevin grabbed the note out of my hand before I noticed him. He placed it on the table, and in a playful voice asked who was declaring their love for me now. I played ignorance.

But now, thanks to Stephen's comments, it was out in the open. Luna did not deserve her name to be brought out between us. She'd only be alone and scared. Reaching out to me in an attempt to connect. She probably thought I was her only chance. It was not her fault she was wrong.

Anthony smiled at the suggestion of Luna's name. His banter quickly devolved into the usual sort of talk we shared. "Don't listen to Stephen, Terry. This is an opportunity in which the different sides need to be weighed. On one hand, she's sort of crazy. On the other hand, crazy chicks are the best fucks."

"That's one way to look at it," I suggested, playing the game. Talking their language.

"I'm sure you're an expert on that Anthony." Stephen called out from the windowsill. "Just because all you can get is the crazy ones, doesn't mean they are the best." Michael stayed silent, and content in learning the topic of conversation, moved over to Stephen. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes; his long legs stood bright in the light. His boxers were still the only clothing he wore. He put a cigarette in his mouth, lit the tip, and took a drag, leaning against the wall.

"Fuck you Stephen," Anthony replied. "We all know you don't get any more pussy than I do. You're just jealous this chick chose Terry instead of you. Just like all the others."

"Back off," Michael commented under his breath. Smoking in his boxers.

Stephen stared back off out the window. "I don't need you to stand up for me Michael."

With a grin stretched over his face, Anthony was not finished. "Did I strike a chord? You always liked the weird ones. Has your Morrissey fantasy not play out like you want? The sensitive girls are not throwing their panties at your brooding ass? Guess Terry just has it figured out. Cause all those girls are sending love letters. They're just not addressed to to you. Maybe if you acted less like a faggot, then one of the girls you like would give a shit about you."

"That's it!" Stephen declared, standing up from the windowsill. "You piece of shit!" He pointed his finger directly at Anthony, anger evident on his face. The cigarette dangled on the cusp of his lip. Stephen was a sensitive guy, who was usually calm and collected, but there was violence in his walk toward Anthony. He was moving with the intention of causing hurt.

Before he was able to reach Anthony, Michael and I grabbed Stephen by the arms. My size made it easy to hold Stephen back; Michael, the strongest of our year in Ravenclaw, easily kept held Stephen in place. "You fucker! You fucker!" Stephen called at Anthony from our grip. His arm shook under my grasp, trying to pull it free. The motions were not pronounced or forceful, but desperate. As if Stephen was scared, but unable to pull back from his advancement forward.

"Calm down Stephen!" I said into his ear. "And Anthony, what the fuck is wrong with you? What is this supposed to accomplish?"

Anthony was surprised by Stephen's change of mood. My words broke the smile on his face, and made him reflect. The confident manner dripped away from his face. He may not have imagined Stephen would have reacted so strongly. "Hey Stephen, forget about it. I was, I was just joking. Didn't mean for it to get real, or anything."

"Whatever," Stephen mumbled under his breath. His body loosened. Michael and I let go of his arms. He moved back to the windowsill, and grabbed another cigarette from his pack. Michael followed him, and lit the cigarette in his lips. Stephen avoided looking at the rest of us, partly out of shame from his actions. He covered his face with his palm; breathing deeply, the venerability of his breath beat with each inhale. Anthony looked obviously shaken from what had transpired, and left the dorm with Kevin. The gossip was not fun anymore. Anthony may have had the second highest marks in our year, behind Hermione, but his choices often seemed to be acted on without forethought. As if he never applied those skills in school, to situations in the rest of his life.

Stephen noticeably avoided my gaze. I guess he was a hurt part of this equation too. If he had been interested in Luna, then her asking him about me must have been crushing. Another casualty to this circus I was in the centre of. I did not mean for him to get involved or hurt. If only they would let me out of it. If only I let myself out of it. I'm sorry Stephen, but hopefully you'll still be able to move forward. Luna's not going to get her help from me. Maybe she can still get it from you.

I slowly made my way towards the door. It was better to leave. I held the message of Luna under my arm; a gravity throwing my body into a twist. Another new postcard; another confession in words. How many did I have? How many had I caused? The old postcards stacked on my conscience. Each a different stroke against me; each a little regret. I didn't want this. But is it not my fault? If I just told her, and everyone that I'm gay, then would that not fix it?

Could it be so simple? What was holding me back? What was I afraid of? Of change? Of everything changing? I didn't like to think about it.

I headed to the library. The study group had agreed to meet up briefly in the morning. The first Arithmancy exam was coming up; we planned to share notes and coordinate our strategy for preparation. I had originally planned to grab a bite to eat at the dining hall beforehand, but I was delayed by the note. While my stomach growled, I did not need to eat breakfast. I would simply stop by there later. Stephen would probably do the same, and then I could talk to him. Explain the situation. Clarify my position on the matter; make my intentions with Luna explicit. Try to fix what I had already muddled up.

The library was nearly empty. Pince wandered the halls, trying to keep the books company. Making sure they did not start crying their ink off of the page. How lonely each spine looked, despite being surrounded by thousands of their brethren. The books were overwhelmed with their peers, but had no one to talk to. They waited for attention. When someone would open their cover, and take the time read their words. Only when they were read, did a book ever get to talk: to be understood: to connect. Otherwise they were castaway in a sea of people. Alone, but surrounded. No one felt like reading today. The students had more important things to accomplish. I did too. I needed a distraction. A distraction a book could not give me. Sorry.

Hannah, Hermione and Nott had already assembled around our usual table. Their notes scattered across the surface. Thrown together, to be later organized and structured. Hermione and Hannah were engulfed in each other's notes. Their faces consumed, dragged downwards. Trying to comprehend the other's words, translating them into their own language. Nott sat back in his chair day dreaming. His focus stared into the distance, irrelevant to his location.

Nott wore his sunglasses, hiding behind his fashion. The sunglasses served no other purpose. Nott wore the glasses solely for us: to hide. His leather jacket, tight black pants, large boots, Xiu Xiu t-shirt, was all part of his costume, of the role he'd be playing the last few weeks. His performance was consistent and empty. Trying to feign a sense of confidence and security. The sunglasses were the essential part of the make-up; keeping Nott's eyes from betraying him. Hiding how much he was afraid, of where he was, of who he was.

The style was an improvement from the Nott of the past. In the year before, Nott had tried to be more social, but it tore him apart. I met him during that time; really met him, beyond those words shared in classes. He started to attend a number of the social gatherings between the different houses. Surrounding himself with the esteemed Slytherins of our year. He felt like an anomally nonetheless. Like a fox desperately trying to fit in with a crowd of hounds. I was not surprised to see him break off from that this year. I bet the different pressures, and the ways people tried to influence him, forced him into an ever closing box he had no intention of being a part of. Punk Rock was a way to fix this, by placing himself in a new box. I wondered if he needed a box at all though.

Hermione was wrecked. I wish she shared with us what was on her mind. Her answers were always uniform: 'everything's okay'. I knew she was lying. We all knew she was lying. The past couple of weeks Hermione had slowly started to lose her confidence. She was skinnier, her cheeks jaunt. Her usual curves were straightening. I doubt she was eating well. Something was going on with her; something locked behind the doors of Gryffindor from us. Something locked within her mind: festering and fermenting. I hoped she would be more open, and let me in. I bet something was wrong; no, I knew something was wrong. I just did not know what at that moment.

As I approached, I noticed something different with Hannah. "Hey everyone!" I greeted. "Hannah, is that a nose ring?" I asked, trying to be courteous, despite stating the obvious. I sat down at my usual place.

"Yep," She said, turning to me. The ring was a deep silver colour; pierced through the left nostril. "I also just got a couple more done on my right ear." She turned her head completely, showing off the other side of her face. Three new rings climbed up the lobe of her left ear. Her hair was still short, and barely reached towards the lobe; allowing the higher piercings to be clear.

Hannah had changed her look a little since cutting her hair. She mixed different outfits, often with stark colour contrast. Her bold neon green shirt jumped out of her jean jacket; seemingly out of place with her long brown skirt which fell down to her ankles. The piercings were the most obvious change yet. I worried that she was doing it mostly as a coping mechanism; as a way to sublimate the emotions she was still struggling with. An expression of that sexual frustration she could not express with others. On the other hand she looked better than I had ever seen her. There was something right about the short hair, and the piercings fit well too; plus, she was just too damned cute!

"When did you have a chance to get those?" I asked her.

"Ernie and I snuck out to Hogsmeade after class yesterday. I'd be thinking about it the last couple of weeks, and at Ernie's insistence we decided to actually go through with it. It's been strange, I've never done something like that before. I'm still feeling a little bit of the adrenaline from the whole experience. We were worried one of the faculty members would be able to infer what we did, but so far no one has. Only professor to mention anything has been Pince, but, you know, she doesn't count."

"That's quite the adventure." I said.

"Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" Hermione asked raising her head from the notes.

"Of course," Hannah replied. "I've never felt more paranoid in my life. Each turn and each corner caused my stomach to fold in on itself. It was fun though. Worth it."

"Couldn't you have waited for Christmas? You wouldn't have needed to take those unnecessary risks. You could have been expelled." Hermione continued.

Hermione's point was valid, but she was failing to recognize an essential part to the whole. Hannah had her reasons for getting the piercings soon. I started "She could have, yes, but that would be no good for you, would it Hannah? You didn't want to wait that long; you wanted them done for the Halloween Ball didn't you?"

As I expected, Hannah's face changed at the suggestion. She turned her head downwards towards her knees. Her fingers curled over top of her knees. The reaction was evident; she was ashamed. Why? I must have been right. Something was special about the Halloween Ball. I quickly tried to work through the possibilities. "Maybe," she suggested with reservations. "That may have crossed my mind, but not in the way you're probably thinking."

Before she had a chance to explain anything, I quickly jumped in: "well, I bet it's a boy." Although the suggestion was made mostly out of jest, I was curious if it was a possibility. "You're hoping to catch the eyes of some lucky guy. Yes, yes, the piercings are to help you boost your confidence. If you're able to sneak out of Hogwarts to get these done, then asking a boy out will feel like nothing. And I bet he's the kind of person who'll dig it too! Who'll think the piercings are so cool. Who won't be able to resist you." There were obvious implications in the suggestion. I was curious; I wanted to know if there was anything between her and Nott. The two of them had been getting closer recently. Since she paid him the visit late at night, they seemed to understand each other on a deeper level. How deep? I was unsure. I wanted to find out.

Nott stayed still as I talked. Hiding behind his sunglasses.

"No!" Hannah quickly corrected. "It's not like that. Not in that way at least. I'm not going to go with anyone to the ball. I want to go alone. I mean." She was hesitant. Aware of the implications her words carried with them. "What I was going to say, was that I was thinking about how cool it would be to go to the ball alone, right? There's such a stigma against going stag, I want to show how fucking cool it can be. The nose ring is a part of that."

"Sounds like an honourable intention," I said.

"Sounds condescending to me." Nott added. He pulled down his sunglasses and levelled his chair. "Like those who go alone need your help. As if without you, people won't recognize how cool we are."

"No!" Hannah repeated, louder this time. If anyone else had been in the library, Pince would have asked us to quiet down. "That's not what I meant."

Maybe the two of them did not understand each other as well as I thought.

In an effort to discharge the situation, the incident with Anthony and Stephen had drained my patience, I jumped in. "Wait, wait. Nott, you know that's not what she meant. You're reading into her words. She's not saying she's the only one who will show how cool it is, she's saying she wants to be apart of the group that shows how cool it is."

"Fair enough," Nott said, leaning back into his chair.

"Thank you, Terry" Hannah mumbled under her breath.

The other two started to enclose themselves in their own minds. Reflection on their actions started to settle into their thoughts: regrets growing. I did not want this to turn into the situation earlier. Stephen locking himself inwards; refusing to look me in the eyes. I needed to distract them. Take them outside of themselves; not give them a chance to think if they could have done better.

I began "are you so sure you're not going to go with anyone Nott? I'm sure Draco could match you up with a girl if you asked. You shouldn't give up before you've tried."

Nott laughed under his breath at the suggestion. A smirk grew on his lips as he thought about it. Wondering about the possibilities, I'm sure. "Not a chance. I think Draco would more likely send me to the Hospital Wing if I asked. He'd probably think I accidentally drank a Twilight Moonbeam or Cupid Crystal. Not sure how I would have an opportunity to accidentally drink a love potion, but you know, still more likely." I laughed at the comment. "What about you Terry? You took Sue out to most of the Balls last year. Going to ask her out again?"

Hearing Sue's name brought back the event earlier in the day. Sue standing in the dorm room doorway, holding Luna's postcard in her hand. A discouraging look painting her face. Sternly asking me not to hurt Luna. Did Luna ask Sue to give me the letter? I bet Sue insisted. She was like that. I'm sorry Sue. Wish I knew more about myself then. Wish I didn't hurt you like I did. I wished I knew myself then too. I'm sorry I hurt myself too. Please, believe me. Please, try to understand.

"No," I answered Nott solemnly. "That's over."

Perhaps sensing I did not want to talk about it, Nott did not press the issue any further. Instead, he turned to Hermione and asked: "what about you Hermione? Have a hot date lined up? One of us must, right?"

Throughout our discussion, Hermione had buried her nose deeper into her notes. Her shoulders looked tense, and staunch. She looked less like she was casually looking through notes, and more like she was trying her hardest to hide. To hide in full sight, surrounded by the rest of us. I would have rested my hand on her shoulder, if she did not look like she would have jumped at the contact. She looked unusually vulnerable. Not quite the strong and sure of herself Hermione I was used to. We waited a second for Hermione to respond to Nott, but her focus remained on the notes.

"Hermione?" Hannah asked tentatively.

"I'm sorry guys," Hermione finally replied, raising her head. "I was focused on the Arithmancy notes. I think I'm going to head back to Gryffindor, to do a little more work on it alone. See you later." Awkwardly and abruptly, she stood up and collected her papers. Flashing us a brief smile, she turned away from us, and headed towards the door.

The three of us sat in silence, watching as she left. What an anomaly. I was not sure how to act. I don't think any of us did. It felt so out of character for her. Hermione loved to gossip, usually. She liked to think she had a good handle on everyone else. Gossip was the way she could test her theories. To refine her definitions, and amend inconsistencies. And now she was the one inconsistent. We were going to need to talk to her. Figure out what was going on. It was tough though. She did not want to let us know.

After a minute in silence, Nott stood up from his chair and put on his leather jacket. Zipped up, covering his Xiu Xiu t-shirt. He fiddled in his pocket, and took out a pack of black cigarettes. The same kind Draco smoked. His hands trembled; affected by something. "I'm going to head out too." He waved his hand, and headed out the door as well. He seemed shaken; perhaps he had not intended Hermione to react that way to his question.

Now there were only two of us sitting at the table. Hannah's notes were sprawled out over top of the table. I had not even taken out my books. Our study time seemed to have prematurely ended. Hannah seemed preoccupied with the ground, for reasons foreign to me. I decided I would head out to the dining room to grab some breakfast. Hopefully Stephen would be there, and I could explain the situation with Luna and myself. That there was nothing between us. I stood up from my seat, but was interrupted by Hannah speaking.

"Hey Terry, about the Halloween Ball." Hannah started quietly. Just barely louder than a whisper. Her face stayed focused downwards.

"Yeah?"

"It's just that ... well ... you know ... I though I should." She spoke slowly with exaggerated pauses.

"Should what?"

"I know it wasn't my place ... wasn't my business ... but you don't understand ... he's been crushing for so long ... I couldn't not do it ... didn't really have a choice."

"Hannah!" I said with emphasis, trying to focus her attention at me. I could barely understand her, talking into her knees. "What are you trying to say?"

Hannah stood up and assembled her notes. Holding the pages to her chest, she said "I told Ernie about you. He's had a crush on you for years. He's going to ask you to the Halloween Ball. I know it wasn't my place to tell him, but, look, just please don't hurt him." When she finished, she quickly turned around and walked away.

I sat back down. It felt like another postcard was placed in front of me. Except, this time it was different. I could not run away from it. This could change things. It could change everything. And, and I wasn't sure if I wanted that or not. Emotions conflicted and fought within me. I felt small, in front of a big decision, like a hill I could not see over. And, for maybe the first time in years, I had no idea what to do.

...

Author's Notes: Terry's story is the story I'm the most afraid of writing. All of the other characters go through plots and have personalities I'm familiar with, except for Terry. His perspective and what he's going through is foreign to me, and I hope I'm doing it justice.

I wanted to thank all of the people who were kind enough to leave a review for the last chapter. All of the feedback is greatly appreciated, and is a nice feeling to know people are reading the story.

Please Leave a Review.

Thanks. BJ.