Chapter 10: Fifth Year
At the end of the fifth year, the library was empty. Students were finished their exams. They spent their time huddled together in the houses. Hoping to hold on to those fading moments. The last chance to speak those words. Those sentiments which built up inside. The library stood still, separate. A place distant from their hearts. Away from the students searching for a conclusion. A proper ending to year which was quickly turning into history.
Hannah
"I've always wondered what your dorm looked like," Ernie said, leaning on the door frame. His auburn hair twirled at the end. He wore blues jeans and a small black t-shirt.
Hannah sat at the end of her bed tying the laces of her boots. She wore a loose skirt high over her hips, and a white blouse which hugged her neck. The blouse, without sleeves, let Hannah's long arms be accented. Her body looked mostly made of features: limbs: arms and legs. The strands of her long brown hair dangled beside her face. "It doesn't usually look like this. There's far less clutter at the moment. Everyone has been packing today."
In the fifth year HufflePuff girl's dorm, beds were laid on opposite walls. Student's trunks were piled next to their respective beds. The surfaces were all bare. Everything was packed except for a couple necessities laid out. The girls were ready to leave in the morning. The year was almost over. Hannah felt ready to bring the events to the end. The morning had not painted the year how she would have liked to. Now, she felt like finishing these events, and moving forward.
"Well, I'm just happy to get this brief glimpse. Always bugs me that we can't spend time together in private here." Ernie commented. He moved forward from the door frame, and approached Hannah.
"There's reasons for those rules. Boys are a threat in the girls' dorm. Might cause sinful behaviour. As if some sex would kill us." Hannah said, focusing on finishing her preparation. Her red boots went up just below her knees. She held the laces, barely giving Ernie notice. He walked passed her, and started to examine her stack of trunks by her bed. It was difficult to be close friends of opposing genders. Being alone with each other was not easy.
"Even if sex was fatal, it's not like I would be a danger. I'm far more of a threat in the boys dorm than I am in here. If the reason for the strict separation is puritanical purity, then I should move in with you and the rest of the gals."
"Why don't you tell the faculty your situation. I'm sure they would be thrilled." Hannah finished with one foot, and moved to the other. She looked up momentarily to place where Ernie was, before refocusing her efforts.
Ernie let out a small chuckle at Hannah's comment. "I'm sure they would be." He moved on of her trunks to notice what was located under it. "Your paint set." He observed out loud. A small easel was placed next to a box filled with paints and brushes. The box was covered in Hannah's name and different paint strokes; Ernie recognized it from when they used to be in the HufflePuff art club. Where the two of them first connected. "You painted this year?"
"No, I didn't," Hannah said under her breath, without looking up. "I brought it with me at the start of the year, and it's just been collecting dust there since. I thought about doing some, sure, but every time I got it set up, I lost my motivation. I would just stand there, standing at a blank canvas. Embarrassed really, that I couldn't convince myself to paint anything. Although, I would probably be embarrassed by whatever I painted anyway, so there was no real loss there."
"That's too bad. I always liked your works. You really shouldn't be ashamed of anything you do."
"It's a nice sentiment, but that wouldn't stop me from feeling that way. No matter how many nice words you give, you wouldn't be able to convince me otherwise. Stupid as it may be." Hannah spoke.
"You liked the time that Cedric guy complimented your work. You worked harder after he said those things than ever before. Why does his words have an affect mine never could?"
"That was special." Hannah said. She finished tying the laces, and stood up from the bed. Ernie placed the trunk he moved back into place. Hannah moved her hand through her hair.
Ernie walked back into the door frame, and waited for Hannah to catch up. "You looking forward to tonight's party? Our first upper year event. I'm excited."
"It's pretty cool."
"I hope there's some cute boys there, Terry especially. I think he likes me, you know?"
"You've told me a hundred times."
"Well, some things bare repeating. You looking forward to any cute boys yourself?" Ernie asked.
"Kind of feel like avoiding them, really." Hannah responded.
"Why's that?" Ernie asked, with concern in his voice.
"Wayne asked me out earlier. It was weird. Kind of unsettling really." She held her stomach. "He kept describing these big feelings. Like I really meant something to him. I'm not sure I've said more than a few words to him. How can he feel such big feelings if he doesn't know me."
"He must think he does."
"That, that kind of scares me."
"Understandably. We'll talk about it at the party. I think they're assembling in the main room."
"Okay."
The two of them moved to the main hall. John, a seventh year, stood on a table. He wore a black suit; ready to attend the funeral of his final year. In a loud voice, he told everyone the plan. The party was to be held in the south-east part of the school. He suggested the crowd move in small groups. It was easy to be undetected in smaller numbers.
John moved in the first group towards the party. Hannah stayed next to Ernie. They watched as the others left the house. As the final group of stranglers made their way, Ernie moved with them. Hannah joined the small collection. They headed through the hallway with muted steps. Trying to remain unheard, unseen, and unheard on their final night of the year.
Hannah felt glad to welcome the new year. The party felt like a birth to her, and not a death. A sample of the future to come. She did not like the silence though. Wayne's confession of love played back in her head. He thought there was something special between them. She barely knew there was anything between them. If she talked more with him, maybe it would have been avoided. He could have realized their was nothing between them. Would have saved both the current heartbreak. Now, she felt like she was walking somewhere, somewhere she did not know. Maybe though, people would understand her better there. Not in the way Wayne misunderstood her. That was all Hannah wanted. A place to be. Someone to really know her.
Terry
A silence filled the common room of Ravenclaw. Terry sat alone in the large room. This was not the way he had intended to spend his last night. His breaths were heavy. Pushing down on his chest. It felt like he had run a mile, when he had not left this spot. The lights were dim. A flickering flame in the fireplace was the only source of light. He could feel the glow of the flames dancing on his face. How did it end like this? His arms stretched across the top of the couch. The muscles ached. A punishment for letting things playing out like they did. Why did it end like this?
The night had begun similar to others. People were sharing their goodbyes. Telling stories of their plans for the coming summer break. Each person had a small adventure they looked forward to. The room was filled with life then. Buzzing with noise. People filled with hope. Terry did not feel much of that now. The silence felt deafening.
Sue Li sat with him before. She leaned her head on his chest. Unlike the others, she stayed mostly silent. Only joining in the conversation for brief moments. Usually to say a word or two, but never a full sentence. A word of acknowledgement or disagreement. Her tone always sounding noticeably disinterested. Something was wrong. She wore a long white shirt, and cotton pyjama bottoms. Her head nestled tight into Terry's side. As if to remind him of her presence. To make sure he did not forget.
As the others slowly started to move to their dorm rooms, she began to adjust herself. An anticipation building within her. She wanted them to be alone. The others were in the way. Terry was afraid she would snap. Blow up like a small bomb underneath him. Yell at Anthony to shut up. No one was really interested in his plans to visit France with his older brother. Terry was glad she did not. Would have caused a scene. She just sat with her head in his chest, continually adjusting herself, agitated and anticipating.
It took a few hours for everyone to leave. Terry could feel the tension which had built up in the room. His heart raced as the final person left. Knowing something was about to occur. Something he was not going to enjoy.
Alone, Sue finally spoke to him. "You know, you never mentioned me in any of your plans."
"We haven't made any plans."
"I know we haven't made plans! You could have at least said you were planning to make some." Her voice was restrained, but harsh. She was trying not to speak too loudly. Afraid of others overhearing.
"Sorry." Terry said. His tone neutral.
"Why haven't we made plans yet? The school year's almost over, and you haven't suggested anything. How are we supposed to make plans if we don't see each other?"
"We could send owls."
"Do you even know my address?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"I don't know it off by heart."
Sue buried her head deeper into his side. Her head turned away from his. "I don't think you care about me Terry." The words came out slowly. Her voice was not sad. It sounded empty. Like an admission of defeat. When there is no hope left to win. "You keep telling me these nice things. But you never do anything! Nothing! Like that's all I am to you. A bunch of pretty words."
"That's not true," Terry tried to say. But he knew she was telling the truth. He had just been too afraid to face it.
"Really? Not true? How is it not true? Enlighten me!" She sat up abruptly. Her jaw was locked. Frustration built into the details of her face. "When was the last time you kissed me huh? Leaned in to give me kiss. Not just sitting still as I leaned into you. Huh? When? Never! That's when!" She yelled the last word. Embarrassed by her volume, she brought her hands to her mouth. The look in her eyes stayed fierce though.
"That's not a fair accusation Sue. If I try to give an example, you'll just say I remember it wrong."
"Of course I will, you'd be lying."
"Sue, I want to make this better. I can't if you talk like that."
"Fine." She said, standing up straight. Her hands glued to her sides, and her chin angled upwards. "Kiss me then. Kiss me like you mean it. Show me. Show me that you care about me. That will prove me wrong. We can continue on then."
Terry began to lean towards her. Intending to kiss her, and show how passionate he could be. But in that moment, he realized something. He realized just how much he needed to force himself. How unnatural the action felt. How he did not want to do it. He liked Sue. But he could not kiss her. Not in the way she wanted. Anything he could do would be a performance. Playing a role he did not want. It would be a lie. A lying kiss. His stomach churned. He could not do it. It felt wrong. He felt wrong.
His lips trembled. "No," he said. The words creeping from his lips like a plead for help.
Sue's emotions broke down. The frustration melted from her face. Leaving only weeps behind. She buried her head back in Terry's chest, staining it with tears. Terry felt like putting his arms around her, but she swatted away his movements. "Stay the fuck away from me." She yelled into his chest. Standing up, she tried to speak. "Has everything been a lie? Have you felt anything for me? Cared for me at all? All this time?"
"Sue," Terry tried to say.
"Fuck you Terry," she spit back. "I don't ever want to see you again!" She stormed out of the room, rushing back into the fifth year girl's dorm.
Terry stayed still. Kept company only by the fire. Flickering in the darkness before it died. His heart did not ache for Sue. He felt like he was on a distant island, isolated from the affair. Still, he knew he was responsible. She was hurt because of him. This was his fault; his fault he never cared for her. He breathed deeply. This was not the way he intended to spend his final night of fifth year.
Nott
Things felt different. Nott sat in the courtyard outside of Slytherin. His hand placed on his chest, counting the beats.
Something was wrong with Slytherin. He woke in panic this morning. The air was sour in his lungs. His arms shook. The beating of his heart raced. An urge built in the bottom of his stomach. A horrible dark feeling overtook his thoughts. Fears of death played in his mind. A desire pressing against the front of his face. Increasing in pressure as he tried to ignore it. Pushing him forward, until he could not take it any more. He jumped out of his bed, and dressed quickly. For a moment, he doubted he could put the clothes on. His arms were shaking. He felt like he did not have control. The panic kept building in his stomach. Feeling like a black hole sucking him in. Signalling his impending end. He was able to put on a white polo shirt and brown khakis. The others in his dorm lied quiet in their beds. Still sleeping from the night before.
Nott needed to leave. He rushed out of the room, and through the entrance of Slytherin. Keeping a steady pace, he continued up the stairs and opened the door to the courtyard. The fresh air brought peace to his mind for a brief second. He caught his breath, standing in the doorway. He wanted to understand what was wrong. Why he had woken up like that? His arms continued to shake; pulled into the black hole inside him. He took off his shoes and walked into the grass. The courtyard was bare; a single red bird flew circles in the sky. The grass was still covered in the morning dew. His toes became wet and covered in mud.
At a tree in the middle of the courtyard, Nott sat down. His heart finally started to become calm. The panic slowly started to subside. He was scared, next to the tree. Afraid of his body. He had lost control of it for that moment. It felt as though his body had a mind of its own. Fighting back against him. He stayed, sitting against the tree. Thoughts of returning to Slytherin brought back those feelings. He became afraid to even think. Trapped against the tree, empty.
He sat alone in the courtyard for what felt like hours. The red bird's chirps as it glided across the side of the building was his only communication. A conversation held between misunderstanding. He and the bird, in different worlds, interacting. Synchronically speaking in the moment, without any reflection on the past. The red bird did not care who Nott was. For what it was worth, Nott cared little for the bird's history too. He just sat against the tree, listening to its words.
Draco Malfoy entered the courtyard. He wore a suit jacket and a collared shirt. His blonde hair attracted the light; the top of his head glowed. He took out a black cigarette and lit the tip. Noticing Nott next to the tree, he walked over to his classmate. Letting a thin layer of smoke pass out of his lips.
"Hey Nott," Draco greeted, approaching the tree. "What are you doing out here this early?"
Nott stared at Draco for a moment, unsure how to answer. "Nothing really. I'm, well I, I'm not feeling good." Draco felt as distant as the bird, circling over them.
"How so?" Draco asked.
Unable to think of a lie, Nott told Draco what happened. The truth was easier to share; a simpler sort of story. He described how he woke up in a panic and needed to leave Slytherin. The sour taste of the house, and the black hole which returned whenever he thought of going back inside.
"Shit Nott, that sounds awful."
"Yeah. I've been sitting here since, trying to imagine what might be wrong with me." Nott buried his face in his hands. "I feel like there is gravity inside me. It's pulling towards it: my fears, emotions, my stomach. Messing everything up. Making me feel this way. And I don't know what it is. Just the thought terrifies me. Crawls under my fucking skin."
"Nott," Draco spoke. He inhaled. The tip of his cigarette glowed scarlet, slowly burning away the black. He sat down next to the tree, and folded his arms. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure man, what?"
"What do you think of the others? You know: Pansy, Blaise, Milli."
"They're nice. I've been having fun the last couple of weeks." Nott spoke.
"You don't need to lie to me Nott. I wouldn't ask you the question if I just wanted you to spout out bullshit. I want to know the truth. What do you think of them? They're surely not nice."
Nott stared at Draco, confused. "What do you want me to say?"
"That they're a bunch of assholes." Draco spoke with confidence. "Look, you may want to pretend they're nice, or fun, but that's not the truth of it. They're a bunch of selfish assholes. Nothing wrong with calling them what they are. And they're a bunch of selfish assholes you don't like."
"How do you know I don't like them?" Nott interjected.
"Cause it's bloody obvious mate. Take this morning as truth enough. You can't fucking stand them," Draco said pointing his finger at Nott. His cigarette burnt to the filter. He put it out in the grass. "You've changed over the past while. Maybe you're oblivious to your face, but I see it all the time. The bags which hang under your eyes, and the drawl of your voice. You look like death. Now your body has turned against you."
"How can you be sure the others are the cause? I wasn't thinking about them this morning when I woke."
"What else could it be Nott? Has anything else in your life changed recently enough to cause you to act this way? I don't think acing all of your exams causes panic attacks. Think about it. Your body is trying to give you a message. "
"But, that makes me sound so weak. Like I'm not even strong enough to have friends." Nott said.
"I don't think so. I don't think that at all. I think it's a sign of strength. You're trying to force yourself to their level, and your body's not allowing you to. You're better than they are. You're physically incapable of stooping to their level. You'd lose who you are if you did. That sounds like a lot of strength to me." Draco sat silent for a moment. "I'm sort of jealous actually. They may be my friends, but I can still identify their faults. Yet, I'm not sure I could break away, even with them being shit. I feel like I depend on them. I couldn't make a clean break. You can Nott. You have that freedom. And your body is telling you to make a run for it."
"I don't know."
Draco stood from his spot. "We know very little Nott. Just think about it. I bet you'll get better this summer while you're away from everyone. Don't feel like you need to transform yourself into one of them. It's better to turn yourself into someone you want to be." Draco walked back towards Slytherin. "I'll see you in the fall Nott. Take care."
Nott sat alone in the courtyard once more. His heart was steady for the first time. He tilted his head towards the sky. The bird continued to chirp, dancing figures into the air. For the moment, Nott felt distant from himself. Like he was a puzzle he could not even imagine how to solve. He had been confident making friends was the right thing to do. Things would be better with the others. Now, he was unsure. He did not know what would be better. He had no idea where to even start. The red bird flew higher, and over the wall of the courtyard; as it disappeared behind the building, Nott felt closer to it than he did to himself.
Hermione
Hermione sat with Ron in a compartment on the train. The room was tight. Two opposing benches sat on opposite walls. Harry had left them moments earlier. He walked rounds, needing to talk with everyone from Gryffindor. Harry was named the new captain of the Quidditch team in the last couple of days. He took the honour graciously. Everyday was another round of 'thank-yous' to different students in Gryffindor. Even the kids from the lower grades who had no affect were thanked. Harry thought it was the appropriate actions of a Gryffindor Captain: the most honourable of captains.
Ron lounged on one side. His back rested against the wall; his knees were high on his chest. He threw a small rubber ball against the wall. Causing a thump with every throw. Thump. Thump. He wore a tan polo shirt and tight black pants. His red hair was cut short and worn in a mess.
Hermione sat upright in her seat. She held a number of books against her chest. The Great Gatsby and Mrs. Dalloway held close to her heart. Her hair was tied back. A green shirt with a high collar rested on her shoulders, and a long brown shirt hugged her hips. She was sad to see the year end. Hermione enjoyed her classes. And she was comfortable with where she was. Every time she awoke, she knew where she had to be. What she needed to be doing. Who she could spend her time with. There was little unknown. No unnecessary angst from her actions with others. She was comfortable.
And yet, on the train ride, she felt her be slowly buried in her stomach. What was the future going to bring? The question pressed against the back of her neck. Harry had been slowly drifting away. His commitment with Quidditch was more important than his commitment with Hermione and Ron. It was natural, Hermione knew. Things changed. Still, she did not enjoy seeing it go. What was her future with him? What was her future with Ron?
Ron stared towards the wall opposite him. Throwing the ball every few seconds: thump, thump. "Do you think I should join the Quidditch team?" Ron asked between a throw. Before Hermione could answer, the thumping continued. Thump. Thump. The ball bounced back each time into his hands.
Hermione pulled the books closer. "Do you want to?" She asked. The only thing she felt comfortable with was her books. They would stay the same. Always play out the same way. She knew how they would develop. And she knew how she wanted her own future to develop. A proper progression in the future. Things will fall into place. Sure, change is inevitable, but change can be good.
"Sure I do. I've always liked Quidditch. Harry's been really enjoying himself on the team. And, you know, since Charlie got on the team, I've wanted to. Dreamed of it really. He was never very good, mind you. But, just good enough, I guess. Always wonder if I could be that good." Ron spoke. Thump, thump, the ball bounced against the wall.
"Well, I'm sure you could do it, if you put your mind to it," Hermione spoke. She placed her books to her side. On the empty bench to her side.
"I know I could. I'm not really interested in that though. It's not an issue of could, it's an issue of should. Should I join the team? Would it be worth it?" Ron kept his stare dedicated to the wall.
"I'm not sure I understand what you're asking." Hermione observed. She stared at Ron. Their gazes passing by each other, but not meeting. Like the light of a lighthouse passing over a boat who does not see the sign. Moving forward on its course anyway.
Ron threw the ball again: thump, and then another: thump. "You know. Quidditch takes up a lot of time. It's hard to do it with other things. And well." He chewed on the words in his mouth. Unable to express those feelings in the bottom of his stomach. "I don't want to lose that time. I don't want to lose my time with you."
"Ron," Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips. "You'll never accomplish anything with that sort of mind set. If you want to achieve something, you can't think of it as losing time. There's a necessary amount of work you need to do. Doing Quidditch is spending that time too. You wouldn't be losing anything by doing it. It'd just be doing Quidditch."
Thump. Thump. "I don't mean it like that though." Thump. Thump. Ron threw the ball against the wall.
"What do you mean then?"
"I don't want to lose my time with you, kind of. We've both noticed how much Harry's been consumed by it. We rarely hang out; never how we used to anyway. I'm not sure I want that."
"I think you're looking at it wrong Ron. We are now in the upper years. That means we won't have as much free time as we used to. I'm going to be in all honours courses. I'll have to dedicate a lot more of my time to studying. It might be good for you to dedicate yourself to something during that time."
"Do you really think that would be good?" Ron asked. Thump. Thump. He threw the ball with more force. "Why do we need to be working so hard? Why do we need to be doing different things? I want," He stopped at the last word. Unable to finish his sentence.
"Don't you want to do Quidditch?"
"Yeah, of course I do."
"Then it would be good. We need to work that hard if we want to succeed. There's no question then." Hermione said.
"But Hermione," said Ron.
"Yeah?"
"Forget about it."
The two of them sat together in silence. A missed connection. Hermione passed her hand over The Great Gatsby. Thump, thump, sounded their hearts.
...
Author's Notes: If you've been paying attention, you'd recognize that all of these moments (except Hermione's) have already been mentioned in the story. I thought it would be nice to flesh some of them out. Give a little glimpse into the lives of the characters before the study group. A bit of backstory to the stories already told, and foreshadow the ones coming.
Up next is Hermione's story. Be excited!
This chapter marks the midpoint in the story. According to my current plan, there should be around 19 chapters in total. Which means nine before and nine after this chapter. Originally my intention was for this story to be around 45,000 words. We've hit that milestone with this chapter. There's only up from here. I look forward to the challenge.
I wanted to thank everyone who's left a review. The reviews have not only helped to give me motivation to write, they have also helped shaped the story. Your understanding of the characters has helped me grasp my understanding of the characters. Writing the story would be much more difficult without you.
Please Leave a Review.
Thanks. BJ.