Yello! I've become very re-interested in this story. It'll probably be finished by mid-June if not sooner. YAY.
There are a few scientological terms in this one. There'll be a footnote explaining them because I didn't want to interrupt the little flow I have in this story with ANs.
"Your ancestors are staring at me." I said nervously out of the corner of my mouth about the thousands of portraits on the corridor walls.
"You're new. It interests them. Anyway, it's their back stories that are truly traumatizing."
"Hmm?" I prodded. This seemed interesting.
"All of these people have had biographies written on them, most wrote their own autobiographies, and plenty of them kept diaries. I've been forced to read them to learn more about my past or something. Dad's not so proud of the more recent stuff, but take that guy, for instance," He pointed to a picture of an attractive man with a square jaw and dark hair. To be honest, he looked a bit like John Barrowman. "He lived in 1556, so his anti-muggle beliefs were commonplace and not taboo. That being so, I had to research him. Thank the stars Dad waited until I was 15 to make me study that one, though. His diary was detailed, and he had oneirogmophobia"
"Oh my God, I did not need to know that." I said, stopping in my tracks and almost barfing. The portrait glared at Scorpius for blabbing about his personal business.
"You know what that is?" Scorpius asked, surprised.
"I have an unhealthy obsession with phobias." I answered once I regained my brain functions.
"So do you have any?"
"Pardon?" I've explained my love of all things phobic before, but I've never been asked that.
"Everyone's afraid of something. I know that fears and phobias are different things, but it's more fun to say lygophobia than "Doesn't like dungeons"
I smiled widely. Like, really, really widely. "Not many people can make the distinction. Thanks."
"What scares you?" He asked again.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
He thought for a moment as we continued to walk down the long, grey-blue carpeted hallway that seemed to be longer than the home itself.
"Patriophobia." He said finally. "Or Dementophobia, maybe. Both? I'm terrified that insanity is genetic. What if the Malfoys are rotten not because of our choices, but rather our lack thereof? My dad wasn't always as bad as he is now. He didn't care as much about all of this aristocracy crap when he was a kid. I've overheard my mum and my Uncle Blaise talking about how he's changed. About how he's become Grandad. I don't want to become my father."
I just stood there. He just poured out his innermost fears to me. He could have said he had Acrophobia or something. I myself was going to lie and say myxophobia.
"Scorpius—" I started, but had no clue how to finish.
"It's your turn." He pressed.
"Why are you so intent on finding out what scares me? And how do you even know all of these phobias?"
"Maya, there were about ten portraits within pointing distance. I chose Lestat Malfoy because his creepiness interested me. I like learning about what makes people afraid, just like you do."
"What are the chances?" I asked rhetorically.
He chuckled in response.
"If anyone ever was a Wiccaphobe, it was my dad." I started to answer. I couldn't claim to fear slime—not after he told me his truth. " When Harvey and I got our letters, and he flipped. My mom, well, you met her. She stood by us. When I got my apperation license, she was actually proud of me. We did this HUGE thing for Harvey's and my Sweet 17th, even though the milestone has no muggle value. But my dad-" I took a deep breath and closed my eyes in preparation for what I'd never told anyone. "My dad gave me Rhabdophobia."
"But Rhabdophobia is the fear of being…." He said in shock. The words came out slowly, as if trying to find a fault in his knowledge, before trailing off.
I nodded, feeling a tear on my cheek. Even when my dad was trying to beat the 'evil spirits' out of me, I didn't cry. I screamed, sure. I screamed so hard my throat went raw for days. And when I was patching up my brother, I felt sadder than sad. But I never showed any weakness.
And yet, talking about it left me bawling like a freaking child.
"Oh, God, Maya." Scorpius said. He closed the distance between us with two quick steps and held me until I could pull myself together. And I didn't even care that he was hugging me. Earlier that day I would have shoved him away, gagging, but now I was just happy for company. "You O.K?" He asked, pulling back after I stopped shuddering.
I nodded, using one hand to violently rub the tears from my eyes, and all but blowing my nose into the other.
"How much farther until we reach my room?" I changed the subject.
"Four more doors." He smiled. "I know, it's a long way to go. After you get your clothes put away, I can get an elf to do the rest while I give you the grand tour.
We walked four doors down (Which was even longer than he made it seem; the doors were separated by more wall than doors should be) and he opened the door with a flamboyant sweep of his arm.
The room was, like everything else in the place, spacious. All of the furniture was beautifully crafted from deep walnut and the ivy carved into the four-poster bed and wardrobe was detailed by someone with OCD.
"I see why it's called the Daffodil room." I said, referencing the daffodil yellow on the walls and the daffodil pattern on the blue, green, and yellow area rug.
"Yeah, it's a bit bright. Sorry. If you like, I can put you in a more muted room."
"No, bright is good." I sniffled quietly; the remnants of sobfest 2.0 hadn't quite left me. "Bright is good." I repeated. "Bright is happy-making."
"Um…O.K." He said of my Pretty-Speak, not understanding the reference. "Do you need help putting your clothes away? The wardrobe should have plenty of hangers in it and all of the dresser drawers are empty. The faster we get it done, the faster I can show you the rest of the house, and the sooner I can crash. It's been a long day."
I checked my wristwatch—a sundial clock face that had been enchanted to show the correct time no matter the position of the light and had been mounted on a wooden wristband that actually used to be part of a barn. George Weasley had given it to me as a gift. He knew that I had a slightly retro side to my personality and exaggeration was his forte, as was novelty items. It was nearly 7:30, much earlier than my usual bedtime, but it hadn't been such a usual day. "Yeah, that'd be great."I replied. "I'm tired as well. I would, however, like to talk with your mom before bed." I re-enlarged my trunks.
"I'll get stuff out and set it on the bed, and then you can decide where it goes?" He suggested.
"Kay."
We started to unpack.
YAY FOR BONDING AND COMMON INTERESTS
Yes, I know that, as an author, I should never point out or explain my use of literary devices. However, if I didn't I think this entire chapter would seem random. It's not. As I've explained, its main purpose is to provide bonding and common interests between our lovely heroine and our handsome hero/her blackmailer.
As promised, the medical terms and their definitions.
Like Maya and Scorpius, I have an unnatural interest in phobias. It was started when I rode Acrophobia at Six Flags Over Georgia (I'm from Metro-Atlanta, so I go a lot.) Acrophobia, as you'll read later, is the fear of heights. The ride is aptly named. It's a 200 foot tall (The FAA requires a red light beacon) free fall ride. dft. ba/-2Fnk
The video is not mine, because I've not yet been willing to risk my phone (Though I may chance it later this summer. If I do, I'll replace the link. And that's assuming the link works.)
However, it is a pretty decent video. I set the link to start in the middle because the beginning is anti-footage of loading and muffled instructions. I don't know exactly what there is to instruct; keeping your arms and legs inside the ride at all times isn't an option. There is no inside or outside. It's a floorless ride. You're pretty much exposed. The other drawback of this video is that this particular ride tech didn't sing. Usually, they'll sing Ring Around The Rosie through loudspeakers mounted at the top of the ride. Except they don't sing the word "down"—They demonstrate it.
And he's just looking straight down and straight in front of him. That's the ride spinning, not the camera.
If you can't tell, I'm obsessed with the ride. It is, like I said, what spawned one of my favorite pastimes.
The phobias will be listed in the order of occurrence because I've decided it'd be too hard to alphabetize them.
ONEIROGMOPHOBIA: The fear of wet dreams (Hence the 'disturbing' aspect of the claim)
LYGOPHOBIA: The fear of dark, damp places
PATRIOPHOBIA: The fear of heredity.
Note: This is usually used in terms of hereditary diseases. In the context I've used it in, Scorpius is afraid of his own heredity, which is an entirely acceptable use of the term. However, it's most often applied in reference of people (usually women) who are irrationally afraid of passing on genetic illnesses.
DEMENTOPHOBIA: The fear of crazy people, or (in this case) of being crazy.
ACROPHOBIA: I)A fear of heights that extends beyond the justifiable "I'm too young to SPLAT!" II) LittleMissDementorsKiss's favorite thrill ride at Six Flags Over Georgia
MYXOPHOBIA: The fear of slime and slimy things
WICCAPHOBIA: The fear of magic or sorcerers
RHABDOPHOBIA: The fear of being beaten with a stick.
With this knowledge, I encourage you to reread that last segment.