The Flip Side - Chapter Twenty-Two - A False Sense of Security
Bletchley heard the door to the dormitory open and sat up from where he had been lying on his bed with his arm over his face. He squinted through bloodshot eyes at the figure approaching, but it was another one of their roommates, Daniel Yaxley, returning from the toilet. He grunted and fell back down onto his pillow.
"He's fine, Bletch," Higgs mumbled from where he sat flipping through his notes and making a few last minute changes to his homework. "Let him cool off."
"I'm too stressed out, mate," Bletchley replied, covering his eyes with his arm again and taking a long drag off the spliff in his other hand.
"There's nothing we can do about it right now," Higgs sighed in a tone that was meant to calm his anxiety-riddled friend. "He'll be blowing off steam. He'll be back when he's ready to be around people."
"Well, he better not get himself eaten by whatever that monster is out there," Bletchley muttered, exhaling smoke.
"Who, Flint?" Yaxley asked sarcastically, causing Higgs to snort and Bletchley to start a coughing fit.
"Aw, mate, don't say it," he winced. "The team is a shambles! Our Captain's gone right off his trolley and our play-maker's been suspended." Higgs rolled his eyes; Bletchley was a simple creature and could only process one crisis at a time. The state of the team was clearly something he would have to work through before addressing the deeper issues of the day. "Who knows if Malfoy stays on now, which, yeah, okay Terry, you move back to Seeker. But that's two Chasers to train up then! And do we lose the new brooms and all?"
The door opened a second time and he snapped his head up: Sebastian Shire, another roommate. Bletchley collapsed again with a frustrated groan. Higgs motioned to a confused Shire to ignore him.
Higgs sat quietly chewing on the end of his quill, wondering halfheartedly if this would be the long-awaited night that Patrick Bletchley would permanently smoke himself onto another plane of existence. If Ade doesn't get back soon, maybe, he shook his head. He was a bit confused as to why he was able to be so calm about the situation, but he assumed it was his mind going into preparation mode. Abby and Pucey would need someone with a clear head when they got back. And that somebody was obviously not going to be Bletchley.
The door banged open for the third time, louder than before, making all four boys jump. Pucey skulked in and surveilled his surroundings with dark eyes as Bletchley sat up straight with a look of pure relief on his face.
"Mate!" he exclaimed. "What happened? You all right?"
Pucey walked wordlessly toward him with his hand outstretched, into which Bletchley passed his spliff, having been anticipating the need. He continued passed the beds to the fireplace where he then stood leaning with one arm against the mantle, staring silently into the fire and inhaling a deep lungful of smoke.
"I'm sorry, mate," Higgs opted against beating around the bush. "This whole thing is bollocks."
"Yeah, well, not your fault, Terry," Pucey replied in a strange distant tone, as he exhaled slowly. "But hey, thanks anyway."
"Mate, you'll catch fire if you're not careful," Bletchley pointed at the hem of Pucey's cloak where it dangled dangerously close to the flames.
"Good catch, Bletch," he replied, holding the spliff between his lips as he shed his cloak. As he tossed it in the direction of his bed, his right hand could be seen clearly wrapped in bandages.
"Ade, what happened?" Higgs furrowed his brow as the other boys exchanged curious looks. "Were you in Hospital?"
"Mhm," Pucey nodded absently as he took another drag. "It's fine. It's nothing."
Higgs shot a pointed look at Bletchley that meant, See? Blowing off steam. What did I tell you? Bletchley returned with a suspicious look of his own that meant, Nah, mate. Something's up. And don't call me paranoid. Higgs rolled his eyes again and began to clear up his homework as he waited to see if Pucey would say anything more on the matter. It was several long minutes of staring into the crackling fire before he did.
"I think I just did something really stupid," he mumbled, though it wasn't clear if it was to his friends or to himself.
"Bet it felt good to tell Flint off like that, though," Bletchley smirked as he joined his friend and took his spliff back.
"No," Pucey shook his head and looked his friend dead in the eye. "I mean, really stupid. Like, made-a-complete-mess-of-things stupid."
"Mate, you're weirding me out," Bletchley's eyes were widening in response to the serious edge to his voice.
"That's because you've both smoked yourselves paranoid," Higgs interjected and stood to join them both as Bletchley shot him a look; he hated being called paranoid. "Look, was it the best idea to tackle and threaten to kill a third year? Probably not. And we knew there was a good chance you would get done for it. So yeah, it was stupid. But look," he clapped the other boy on the back. "It's literally one game. Next season, we'll appeal the decision and get you reinstated. And Flint will be gone," he concluded, though Pucey's eyes darted back to the fire at the mention of the team's Captain. "Winner, winner."
Pucey snorted and scratched his chin, before nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he rambled a bit, turning the point over and around in his jumbled brain. "That actually might work." Bletchley was eyeing him suspiciously; something told him that this wasn't what Pucey had been troubled over.
"We'll figure it out," Higgs promised as he returned to his bed and pulled on his cloak. "Now, I've got to patrol, if you two would like an escort to somewhere with a bit more air so that you can stop wrapping Seb and Daniel in a cloud of smoke?" The other two boys waved their gratitude.
Pucey didn't say much after Higgs left them in the Quad, and what he did manage was kept to simple, one-word answers as he worked to dull both his senses and memories of the past few days. He and Bletchley stood shivering in a corner (away from the windows in case a teacher were to wander by), passing a fresh spliff back and forth between them. He was trying his best to think of nothing at all, but every attempt ended in a clear picture of a blonde girl with intuitive blue eyes and a mouth that didn't smile enough anymore.
"This is one of those nights where like, years from now, we remember things separated as before today and after today, isn't it?" Bletchley babbled, unable to take the silence any longer.
"You've no idea, mate," Pucey said reflectively, taking another puff.
"Maybe someone's cursed us," the other boy mused. "Someone who had, like, a load of money on us losing the Cup last year and we still stayed tops."
Pucey managed a laugh. "Well, you deffo need to be on your game then. Can't let a little thing like a curse stop us."
"Yeah," Bletchley agreed as Pucey passed back to him. A moment went by as he thoughtfully puffed on it. "Or it could just be that Flint's an idiot."
That caught them both just right and they burst into laughter, releasing a weekend's worth of festering, nervous tension into the cold February night. If they were to face the world tomorrow, it felt somehow better to laugh at it today.
"Abby all right?" Bletchley asked after they had both fallen silent again for a minute.
"What?" Pucey answered too quickly.
"When you found her - was she all right?" Bletchley repeated himself.
"Oh, yeah, well, er, not really," Pucey stammered, feeling his tongue get in the way of his words. "She was upset, obviously. I talked to her. Distracted her by breaking my hand on a wall."
"As you do," Bletchley smirked.
"Aye, as you do," Pucey laughed again and itched at his bandaged hand. "So, yeah, she marched me up to see Madam Pomfrey and now here I am, sharing all my miserable glory with you."
"Awe, cheers, mate," the shaggy-haired Keeper grinned as he passed back.
They did not talk much more after that, but by the time Higgs returned to clear them a path back to the common room, Pucey's head was feeling a bit less muddled. He and Bletchley headed straight back to their dormitory and got ready for bed. The Keeper crashed into his pillow, but Pucey sat up for a bit and stared thoughtfully up at the bed canopy.
Well, he thought finally. Whatever happens, I think I'm all right with it. He shook his head over the potential implications of that thought process, but could not deny that it was true all the same.
As he turned then to extinguish the bedside candle, he caught sight of his bedpost, a section of which had accumulated a rather shocking number of notches. He stared at it for a moment and felt strangely detached from it, like the point had been lost somewhere in the ongoing conquest. Feeling a strange, sudden urge to do something dramatic. he screwed up his mouth and retrieved the small rock he kept next to the candle. Reaching up higher than the previously vandalized section, he carved a new notch, bigger than the others, and put the rock into the drawer of the bedside table instead of returning it to it's usual place.
Had he looked up as he blew out the flame of the candle, he might have noticed Bletchley still watching him suspiciously.
Abby knew it was ridiculous to think that anybody knew, but she couldn't shake the feeling that, in fact, absolutely everybody knew her secret.
She sat with Sam in the common room waiting for the rest of the girls from their year to go down to breakfast, and was more and more convinced with every student that entered the room that the truth was as obvious as if it were plastered across her forehead in big bold letters. She dropped her eyes and began to concentrate very hard on her shoelaces while she struggled to get control of her breathing and thoughts before a panic attack could be triggered.
Sam looked up from where she sat doodling and raised an eyebrow at her friend's body language. "All right, Abby?" she asked curiously after Abby took several deep breaths and started to rapidly tap her hand on her knee.
"What?" she looked startled as she snapped her head up. "Oh, I just, um-"
"Don't want to deal with Flint this morning if you can avoid it?" Sam, bless her, finished for her. "Totally understandable. But we are all on your side."
"Speak for yourself," a seventh-year girl snorted to her friend as they passed them. "Some of us are a bit fed up with the Abby Malfoy show."
"Great, Celeste, thank you for the input - Girl Power!" Sam held up a sarcastic fist of solidarity as the girls left for breakfast, then turned back to Abby. "Obviously, I meant your friends are on your side, even if the peanut gallery isn't."
"People actually think I enjoy being involuntarily surrounded by drama, don't they?" Abby scowled.
"Probably," Sam shrugged. "But people are also stupid. Here, this is for you." She handed the parchment with her drawing to Abby: a cartoonish representation of Flint crashing his broom into the Giant Squid. "I can charm it for you if you like, so you can watch him turn to paste over and over?"
"Frame it too, while you're at it," Abby said, finally feeling herself smile. Sam had her own unique way about her, but she could never be accused of being anything but a loyal and honest friend.
"Glad you like it," Sam laughed as she tucked it into her pocket to charm later. "Now, if I could charm Violet and Lara to put their makeup on faster, I would really be on to something."
"Morning Sam, Abby," Higgs greeted the girls as he entered the room and gave Abby's shoulder a supportive squeeze before plopping into an armchair. "Waiting for Violet?"
"As usual," Sam rolled her eyes. "Morning Bletch, Ade - what happened to your hand?"
Abby froze and felt her stomach do a somersault. She looked up and met Pucey's dark eyes. They were bloodshot and half-closed, which was normal. His hair and shirt were disheveled just enough to look cool (without looking like a slob), which was normal. He had an easy smirk on his face, which was normal as well. In fact, nothing at all seemed outwardly out-of-sorts with him at all, save for the tiniest hesitation when she met his gaze before he snapped out of it and parked himself on the couch next to her, which was also normal.
"Went ten rounds with a werewolf," he shrugged lazily. "No big deal."
"How are you feeling?" Sam asked sympathetically.
Pucey shrugged again. "I'll get over it," he replied casually, glancing at Abby. "And you?"
"What?" she blinked, not expecting the question.
"That well, is it?" he chuckled for the others' benefit, but his eyes pleaded with her. Abby, for the love of Merlin, act normal. "Guess somebody didn't sleep much."
"I, ah, no, actually," Abby stumbled in search of a coherent sentence. "I took one of the tablets I had left from Madam Pomfrey. It takes a bit to shake the cobwebs in the morning."
"Hey, whatever works," Pucey grinned and discretely pinched her elbow to indicate a job well done. She felt the hairs on her neck and arms stand up in reaction to his touch.
Bletchley was watching them, his eyes sliding back and forth between them, taking mental notes.
"I'm sorry!" Violet emerged from the dormitory corridor with Lara and Aretha. "I could not make my face cooperate this morning."
"Everything back to normal, then," Pucey remarked, at which Higgs and Sam snickered and Violet shot a withering look. "Off to breakfast!"
The group left the common room together and Abby found that she could suddenly breathe and was again able to engage in conversation. After everything negative that had happened in the past several days, she had naturally convinced herself upon awakening that Pucey would ignore her, and the thought had given her such an overwhelmingly lonely feeling in the pit of her stomach that she wished that she could take it all back if it meant not losing one of her best friends.
Since it now appeared evident that she would not have to make that choice, she found the strength to face the day and all the gossiping whispers and curious stares it brought with it.
As it turned out, however, it was Pucey's suspension and subsequent outburst on Flint (who had been relocated to the seat nearest the Head table, where he was watched by Professor Snape) paired with his freshly-bandaged hand that was the more popular topic of the conversation, and Abby found herself blessedly free of the majority of the attention while he, like most everything else, took it in stride with a smirk on his face. Even the Howler that exploded on him with the morning mail did not phase him, and while his mother's voice screamed at him about his suspension and his 'jeopardizing his future', Pucey licked the grease off of his fingers and used his fork to open the second envelope that he had received. His eyes twinkled and Abby glanced at where he was refolding it in his lap; she could only catch the seal at the top of the letterhead that she thought she recognized but couldn't place.
"What's that?" she asked curiously.
"Nothing, Nosy," he stuck his tongue out at her and pocketed it, cheekily sliding his leg as he did so just enough to rest touching hers. She felt a tingle race up her spine and, remembering to roll her eyes at him, took a drink of pumpkin juice to hide the pink that appeared on her cheeks.
Bletchley was watching them, his eyes sliding back and forth between them, taking mental notes.
After breakfast, the group was in good spirits, having had a pleasant Flint-free meal and relatively little harassment from his few remaining supporters. Even Oliver Wood, of all people (and in clear opposition from the rest of his team), wordlessly clapped Pucey on the back on the way out of the Great Hall in a strange moment of pure empathy; there was no worse punishment in his eyes than to have Quidditch taken away.
It was this unexpectedly smooth start to the day that put Pucey and Abby's initial apprehension at ease, and they found that they were able to behave as they always had. Due to this false sense of security, their first slip-up happened as they arrived for Transfiguration class.
"Mr Pucey," Professor McGonagall called him out as he made to sit with his friends. "I do not recall giving you permission to return to your original seat. While you may think otherwise, I am in no hurry to tempt fate and have Mr Higgs once again transformed into anything other than his charming self."
Pucey froze halfway into his chair; he had been on autopilot and had completely forgotten his relocation in her class. The other students turned in unison to look at him, half of them giggling and half of them doing the, "Ooo-OOO-ooh," that teenagers are prone to do when one of their number is in trouble with a teacher. He felt his ears turn hot and red as Abby flushed and shrank into her seat.
"There's no pulling any fast ones on you, is there, Professor?" he slapped an easy grin on his face, pulling himself together and moving quickly into damage control mode as Higgs raised an eyebrow at the 'charming self' comment and Bletchley sat back and laughed. "Sharp as a tack, you are."
"I did say that you wouldn't get any sympathy just because you smashed your hand to bits," Abby drawled with an assist to his cover, still keeping her head angled downward to hide as much of her blushing cheeks' betrayal as she could.
Bletchley was watching them, his eyes sliding back and forth between them, taking mental notes.
Professor McGonagall regarded them with a level face save but for a tug at the edge of her mouth that revealed her amusement. She let Pucey squirm for a moment while she thought, and had to admit that his work and behavior had improved recently. And since she had been part of the decision to issue his suspension from Quidditch, she conceded that perhaps he had been punished enough.
"Consider this a probationary trial, then," she replied, not unkindly. "Take your seat and do not let me catch your focus drifting again."
"No, ma'am," Pucey grinned and moved quickly to empty his book bag onto the desk to keep McGonagall from having the chance to change her mind. "Lucky break there, hey lads?" he said over his shoulder to Higgs and Bletchley, turning his body just enough to discretely (he thought) slide his foot over to touch Abby's.
Bletchley noticed.
When the bell finally signaled the end of class and everyone began to pack up their belongings to go to lunch, McGonagall called Abby to stay back for a minute to speak with her. She and Pucey exchanged a look before she told him that she would catch up to them.
"Weird day, already," Pucey mused as the boys joined the wave of students exiting the classroom.
"Mhm," Bletchley replied knowingly, deliberately dragging his feet.
"I honestly thought Abby would be much more upset," Higgs nodded. "But she seems to be more in control than I expected. Which is good, obviously."
"She said something last night about feeling a bit lost," Pucey said, shifting the weight of his book bag on his shoulder.
"I'll bet that's not all she said," Bletchley smirked from behind him.
"What?" Pucey looked back, eyebrow raised. "Why are you walking so slow? Any rate, hopefully today is a fresh start for her. Last thing she needs is more stress."
"We'll keep an eye on her," Higgs agreed.
"Oh, Ade will be keeping a real close eye on her," Bletchley interjected again. Pucey and Higgs turned to stare at him as the rest of the students flowed passed them, their faces registering wildly different expressions. "He has been all day, after all."
"What are you talking about?" Higgs furrowed his brow, but Pucey's eyes were silently begging his friend to keep shut. That was all the confirmation that Bletchley needed, and he waited until the last of their peers moved out of earshot on their way to lunch.
"You absolute legend."
A tense moment passed.
"No idea what you're on about, mate," Pucey turned back around after shooting an incredulous look at Bletchley, continuing the trek (much more quickly than before) back to their common room to drop off their books.
"Of course you don't," Bletchley replied and received a warning look shot from over Pucey's shoulder. Higgs looked at them both quizzically but the boys traveled in silence for the rest of the journey back to their dormitory. Pucey's shoulders tensed as they passed Yaxley and Shire already on their way back out and almost made an excuse to get them to stay; he knew their presence would have been the only thing to save him from the impending conversation.
"You copped off with her, didn't you?" Bletchley dropped the bomb the second the coast was clear.
"Bletch!" Pucey snapped through clenched teeth.
"What?" Higgs exploded, turning wide eyes on his friend. "Please tell me you aren't that bloody thick!"
"I - well - er - I," Pucey stammered, which made Bletchley bark with a short burst of victorious laughter.
"He gets back late last night all dark and broody, yeah?" the Keeper reenacted the other boy's arrival to the dormitory the night before, stomping toward the fireplace. "'I think I just did something really stupid,'" he mimicked Pucey's past sentiments. "And all day, you've been jumpy every time someone mentions her - and then this!" he marched over to Pucey's bed, pointing an accusatory finger at the newest notch at the top of the post. "Every single one of these birds you bragged about, but this one you scratch without a word after we all go to bed-"
"Oh, you're spying on me, now?" Pucey was grasping at straws for a way out of the conversation.
"All day, mate," Bletchley retorted. "Watching the pair of you act guilty as sin."
"Ade, please deny this," Higgs pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
Pucey stared angrily at Bletchley, his scowl twitching as he steamed over being well and truly caught out, and just threw his hands in the air in response. "Yeah, fine, I did," he growled. "It just happened, all right?"
"No, it's not all right - have you lost your mind?" Higgs snapped at Pucey, his eyes bulging out of his skull. "What about this seemed like a good idea to you? And you!" he turned to Bletchley. "You knew? You figured this all out and you haven't been freaking out all day?"
"Terry, I'm serious, I think he broke me," Bletchley replied honestly, shaking his head.
"I mean, what were you thinking?" Higgs rounded back on Pucey.
"Well! Obviously I wasn't thinking and will you please keep your voice down or I'm a dead man!" Pucey hissed back at him, glancing nervously at the door as though Flint might burst through it at any moment.
"As if you aren't one already," Higgs rolled his eyes (but lowered his voice) and folded his arms over his head in exasperation. "How long did you think this would stay secret, exactly? Ade, Bletch had you sussed in half a day."
"Them googly eyes he's given her for years finally worked," Bletchley folded his hands under his chin and batted his eyelashes for emphasis.
"Oh, give over," Pucey was not enjoying being backed into a corner.
"Oh, you give over," Bletchley shot back. "You're not fooling anyone. You've been arse over tit for her since third year."
"I just never thought you would be mad enough to try it on," Higgs frowned.
The boys stood and stared at each other in silence for a minute, all three trying to wrap their heads around the situation.
"What am I going to do?" Pucey asked aloud, as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Go to lunch, for a start," Higgs shrugged. "No sense attracting any more suspicion than you already have. From there?" he snorted as they left the dormitory. "Search me. Avoid Flint at all cost, I suppose. Which ought to be interesting, considering the two of you are supposed to be best mates, even if you did just have a public row. You've really dug your own grave this time, Ade."