As expected, I'm back with another chapter sooner than usual. I do hope things start getting more interesting soon enough for you all.
A huge blanket thank you to everyone who's supported me as well. And the obligatory reminder to review, as they keep me writing.
Thanks! Enjoy :-)
"Fleur, what the bloody hell is in that box?" I inquired, with a raised eyebrow.
Fleur was approaching me with an enormous box, one so big she could barely carry it after all. I could hardly see her pretty little blonde head over the top of glimmering snow-colored wrapping paper and big emerald and crimson plaid ribbon that adorned it.
"It's," Fleur breathed heavily, heaving the box onto the table before me. "Your dress. For the Yule Ball."
"Then why do you have it?" I asked. I stood, for a better look at the disgustingly over-decorated box, which could've easily held a small child.
"Because your grandfather asked me to choose one for you, considering your, er….unique sense of style," Fleur explained delicately. There was a definite glare towards my old Docs, which were scuffed and dirty and on my feet. "So I ordered this one for you from Paris, and they sent it to me."
I rolled my eyes. How very Patrick McAuley it was of my grandad to go behind my back to dress me like a lady, and how very Fleur Delacour it was of her to oblige. I could only imagine the frilly horrors that lie inside the box.
"Well, open it up," I commanded in a sigh.
With way too much pleasure, Fleur ripped the box open. I let her push past the excessive layers of tissue paper, which exposed the dress - a fancy crimson number, which Fleur lifted up. It was the kind of dress that hung off the shoulders, with elegantly beaded straps that reminded me of delicate fairy wings, being airy and strangely lovely. The straps connected to a simple sweetheart neckline. It was the kind of dress that was ruched, and tighter until it hit the middle, where it fell out into the kind of skirt that was really meant to twirl in.
"What do you think?" Fleur asked excitedly, gripping onto my shoulder after she'd folded it back into the box.
"I actually like it," I admitted.
"What a relief!" Fleur sighed, clutching her chest. "I thought you were going to kill me for even trying to get you to wear a dress….now, that Nathan boy, he's going to have to wear something to match you….should I look for something for him as well? I don't think he's got very much fashion sense, after all…."
"I think he can dress himself, Fleur," I said with a kind of smile. "Thanks, though."
"Oh, no problem," she replied. "You can get ready with me, in the Beauxbatons carriage, alright? I want you looking great, and you don't really know how to do that on your own….anyway, I've got to go, I've got to go talk to Roger Davies about what color robes he'll be wearing so that we can coordinate. I'll hang onto this for safekeeping, okay?"
Before I could agree or disagree, Fleur had bounded off, my giant dress box in tow.
"What did Coco Chanel want with you?" Esther inquired, approaching me from the Slytherin table. She'd taken to calling Fleur Coco Chanel, for one reason or another. "And what was in that bloody box?"
"My Yule Ball dress," I said simply. "Grandad put Fleur in charge of it."
Esther rolled her eyes. "Of course he did."
Piling my books up and preparing to leave, I asked, "Well, what are you going to wear to the thing?"
Shrugging, Esther said, "I was thinking of getting a big wooly coat like Professor Hagrid and making a nice hat out of a rubbish bin."
I laughed. How very Esther.
She shrugged once more, and said, "But, really, I probably won't even go."
"What?" I said, a bit flabbergasted. It wasn't like I was psyched to go, but it was something you couldn't really miss. "Why?"
"Who am I supposed to go with?" Esther asked me. She leaned forward, and in a lower voice, asked, "It's not like I can bring Pauline or anything."
Pauline was Esther's Muggle girlfriend who lived back in London.
I looked at her, trying to search for a suggestion, but came up with none.
"Exactly," Esther nodded.
She pushed her glasses back up on her nose and drew a long breath. I knew that she would love to bring Pauline, but it was pretty impossible. I felt bad.
"I would offer you Nate, but he's already asked me," I said lowly.
Esther grumbled and rolled her eyes. Then, rather sarcastically, she added, "You two will make a lovely couple. What're the children going to be named?"
"Flavius and Esther the second," I joked dryly. "No but….you could take Angus, I can't imagine he'd want to be seen with Malcolm at the thing."
"True," Esther agreed. "He's stuck deeper in the closet than Aslan."
At that comment, I couldn't help but to laugh.
"But really I don't think I could stand to have to spend that much time with Matlock, Saoirse," Ester said seriously. "Thanks for offering your friends to me, though. I do appreciate it."
"Anytime, Est," I winked, as headed towards the door of the Great Hall. Our post-supper study hour was up, so that meant it was time to turn in to our respective common rooms.
She started off, then turned around to yell at me, "Don't forget your birthday this year!"
I laughed again. I did indeed forget my birthday last year, until Esther brought me a cake in Herbology, which she promptly smashed in my face. I hoped she didn't have something similar (or worse) planned.
We bid our final goodnights, and I headed up towards Gryffindor tower, where I found my old pal and beloved pet, Sid, meowing and clawing to get into the common room.
"Hi, baby," I cooed in greeting.
Tucking my books under one arm, I picked Sid up with the other. He was fatter than I recalled, or perhaps he seemed fatter because I hadn't picked him up in a bit.
I came into the common room, discarding my books and pulling Sid tighter to my chest, kissing his soft head. I glanced around, looking for someone to sit with. Fred and George were talking to Ron, Harry and Hermione, and there was a collapsed table of cards before them. In front of the fire sat Angelina and Angus, who appeared to be studying frantically, whispering up a storm and comparing notes.
"What're you two up to?" I inquired, taking the seat beside Angelina whilst cuddling with Sid, who had begun to purr contently.
"Charms," Angelina said quickly.
"Yup," Angus corroborated.
"Alright," I said. I narrowed my eyes, thinking for a moment, and then warned, "You two better not be planning any shit for my birthday."
"We're not!" Angelina responded haughtily. "You really think we'd plan you birthday surprises when we know that you absolutely hate them?"
"True," I sighed.
I sunk back into the sofa, stroking Sid's back. I wasn't sure if I really believed them, but for now, I wasn't going to be bothered with it.
"Oi! Angelina!"
We all whipped around. It was Fred, hollering at her from across the common room, and effectively gaining everyone's attention, not just hers.
"What?" Angelina called back.
"Want to come to the ball with me?"
Angelina looked Fred up and down, in an appraising sort of way. I knew just as well as anyone else that this was for show - she wasn't going to say no considering all the time they'd spent snogging lately.
"All right, then," Angelina nodded.
Fred nodded and winked, and Angelina turned back to us. She crossed her arms, and there was just the slightest touch of a grin on her face.
"There you go, Ange," I teased, prodding her in the ribs.
"Well, that wasn't the most romantic or anything, but I'll take it," she replied.
"At least you two have dates," Angus grumbled.
I knew he wanted to take Malcolm, but wouldn't. Angelina probably just thought he was too stubborn to ask a girl out.
"Who are you going with?" Angelina asked, turning to me.
"Nate," I told her.
I waited only a few seconds, and out burst the laughter.
"Don't laugh!" I said, smacking her on the arm. "We're just going as friends, Angelina. Besides, if I wasn't going with him, who was?"
"You can't go out with someone out of pity," she told me lowly.
"It's not out of pity!" I persisted. "It's 'cause we're friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S."
"Whatever you say, McAuley," Angus concluded cheekily.
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, c'mon. Nate said himself that he wants to go as friends, and I am positive he doesn't think of me in any other way. He's a genius, but romantically and sexually speaking, he's way behind."
"True," Angelina agreed, much to my relief. "Fred and I walked past him holding hands one day, and I think he practically vomited."
Angus and I laughed. I could picture Nate in that situation. He was comfortable to ask for tongue print samples, but yet romantic human affection, or any kind of human affection involving any kind of bodily contact, for that matter, freaked him out for some reason. That was Nate - the asexual, biracial, Welsh nerd with a brain to rival Dumbledore's.
Interrupting the laughter, Sid let out a huge cat snore from where he was cuddled against my chest. Angus looked disgusted at my beloved cat.
"Don't look at him like that," I urged, holding Sid protectively.
"I just don't get how you could love that thing like you do," Angus said, seeing how I was looking at him. "He hardly looks like a cat."
"I like things a little ugly," I said. I gave him a cheeky grin as he'd given me earlier, and kissed the tuft of fur atop Sid's head.
"Explains the boots," Angelina muttered just below her breath.
"Oh, don't even, I get enough of that from Fleur," I groaned. Standing, I announced, "I'm going to bed."
I got a couple of goodnights from Angelina and Angus, and headed towards the stairs towards the girls' dormitories. I grabbed my things on the way, causing Sid to wake with a dissatisfied meow. Just as I was about to turn in for the night, I was approached.
"Hey, Saoirse," called George, as he came over. He leaned against the wall with one arm, and a half-grin.
"Hi," I replied.
"I'm not trying to steal Fred's thunder tonight or anything, but since you're here I figured I'd ask if you wanted to go to the ball with me," George told me.
"Oh," I said, faltering a bit. "Sorry, but I'm already going with Nathan Parker. He asked me this weekend."
There was a long pause. A long, uncomfortable pause.
"Oh," George said after an eternity and a half.
"Yeah," I muttered, not knowing quite what else to say. "Er….sorry."
"It's….fine," George said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "...Goodnight."
With that, and with much awkwardness, George turned to go sit with Fred, Ron, Harry and Hermione once again.
"I'm really sorry," I added awkwardly. I wished I could stick my foot in my mouth. "It's just that…."
"It's fine, Saoirse, really," George assured me. He was strangely half-hearted in his response.
I didn't say anything else. I couldn't think of anything else to say.
The last thing that I heard before heading up the stairs was Ron Weasley laughing hysterically.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAOIRSE!"
Hands were shaking me, voices were screaming at me, and all I wanted to do was go the hell back to sleep.
"Get off of me," I groaned, pulling my pillow over my head with one arm, and swatting Angelina and Alicia off of me with the other. "Let me sleep! It's holiday."
"And it's your birthday," Alicia added gleefully. She ripped my pillow away, throwing it on the floor as Angelina did the same to all of my blankets.
"You're an adult!" Angelina beamed. "Let's get up and celebrate! You shouldn't be a stick in the mud, not today, at least."
"I hate you two," I grumbled with the faintest of smiles.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, got up, showered, got dressed, and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. A slew of owls had delivered presents to the place at the table where I usually sat, which gathered the attention of most of the other students in the Hall, much to my displeasure. I didn't want to be in the spotlight.
"Open this one first, Saoirse," Lee prodded.
He, Fred, George and Katie were all looming over a large, broom-shaped box that was wrapped elaborately in golden paper. Even the first years at the other end of the table were craning their necks to get a look.
"Yeah, it feels like a Firebolt," Fred said excitedly.
"Feels like?" I asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, sorry, we were jiggling it around to try and hear what was inside," Katie apologized sheepishly.
I chuckled a bit, and took my seat. Everyone else did too, though they were nearly pissing themselves with anticipation. I opened the golden box first, to find the usual happy birthday note from Grandad and a tissue-paper wrapped, custom Firebolt below. I never was much into flying or Quidditch, but my Grandad hadn't given up hope that I'd make it on the national team.
With the Firebolt being passed around the table so everyone could have a look, I opened the next few boxes. There were plenty of sweets and cakes, new clothes straight from Paris (that I'd probably return as they weren't exactly my taste), new quills and ink, more books in an array of different languages, a new collar for Sid, a new cage for Polly, and, as was traditional, a watch. Except, my watch was state of the art - real leather, real gold, with diamond-accented hands. It told the moon phases and planetary phases and everything else astrological. I could only imagine how much it cost, but, I did have to admit I liked it, and I put it straight onto my wrist.
Of course, it was traditional for wizards to get watches, not witches, but my grandfather thought I should get one too. My grandad was many things, but never a sexist, I'll say that.
I tightened the watch and passed the sweets and treats around for sharing, and everyone was ecstatic. Besides, there was no way I could've possibly gotten through them myself. After that, I worked through the pile of cards and money all of Grandad's associates sent me, as well as a nice package from the Delacours with a big box of my favorite French chocolates and pastries. Even Carrie and Jake, Esther's parents, sent me a new pair of patent leather red Docs to replace my old ones. Instinctively, I knew Carrie picked them out. She'd always understood my sense of style.
With my new Docs on my feet, I hit Hogsmeade for birthday celebrations at the Three Broomsticks. I had been correct to think that Angus and Angelina had been planning something, as the pub was decked out for birthday celebrations by the time we got there around noon. Esther, Holly, Nate and Fleur joined us as well, and Fleur presented me with an elaborate, three-tiered, Gryffindor-colored cake with seventeen shamrock candles on top.
Needless to say, at the end of the day when it was once again time to turn in for bed, I was exhausted. I was the last one to come out of the shower, and by the time I did, Angelina and Alicia were already asleep in their beds. Yawning, I threw my pajamas on, and shoved Sid out of the way to make room for myself in bed.
Then my trunk began to rattle. Really rattle, like there was someone in there trying to get out.
Out in instinct, I opened up my trunk, which, in retrospect, probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Carefully, I lifted the lid to see that the box I buried in my trunk months ago, the one with the old McAuley family crest on it had mysteriously been moved to the top. The lock, the lock none of us could open, had been broken, seemingly by itself.
Sid was sitting up now, looking at the broken box with a kind of indifferent curiosity, tail swishing.
My heart was pounding. I remembered Grandad warning me never to trust anything that did things on its own when you couldn't see its brain. I didn't see the box's brain, but it moved itself and it opened itself. I knew I shouldn't mess with it….but I couldn't resist.
With heaving breaths, I lifted it out of the trunk. The box seemed to have its own heartbeat, seemed to be generating its own warmth, like it was alive….I lifted the broken top off.
Inside, right on top, there was an old leather necklace. The choker kind, with the o-ring, like the punks used to wear back in the day. I held it. I held it tight. It was warm, weirdly so. I turned it over. There was a metal plate on the back, engraved with initials and a date, "J.E.G. + A.C.M. 12/21/77."
That was my birthday. No, I didn't have a clue who JEG or ACM was, but I knew the date. That date was today, seventeen years ago, the day I was born.
I felt bizarre. I felt my heart pounding in my throat. I felt the warmth of the leather choker in my hands, and I shoved it back into the box, which I shoved back into my trunk, which I slammed shut and locked.
I fell into bed, realizing I should've listened to my Grandad - I should've never trusted anything that had a mind of its own if I couldn't see its brain.