Rachel stayed up in the owlry for a long time. It was very dark when
she came back down, feeling her way down the creaky stairs. She was in for
a surprise when she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione in their pajamas, sitting
on the couch. Hermione held out Rachel's pajamas.
"Go, change."
"We won't look." Harry said, smiling.
"We came for moral support." Ron grinned at her, then he and Harry turned their faces away and squinted their eye's shut so Rachel could change into her night clothes. When she was done she crawled under the warm blanket their had spread over the squashy, yet spacious sofa.
"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, politely, staring out at the fire.
"Well, you know, we could always play darts." Ron said, grinning evilly. "We can use Lavender's face for a target."
"RON!" Hermione shrieked and cuffed him, hard.
"Shhh!" Rachel said, she wanted to laugh, but still felt depressed. "You'll wake everyone else up!"
"Sorry!" Ron said, sharply, "it was just a suggestion."
"No, Ron, it's my fault."
"You see Rachel, that is where your problem is. You blame yourself, first with Lavender, then with Ron."
"No, really–"
"Let's talk about something else." Harry suggested, and turned to them.
The rest of the night was spent commenting on the twitching teacher, Snape's greasy hair, and how ugly and desperate Lavender was.
They only had a few hours of sleep, not that it really mattered. The next day was a Sunday. They were all woken up by Fred George and Lee, who had decided that the best way to get someone up was to jump on top of them. Feeling a little better, yet a little sore, Rachel changed into some real clothes and went down to breakfast.
She almost burst into tears again. People were staring at her. She could feel their eyes on her back. She stuck unusually close to Hermione, fearing Lavender, Seamus, or worse, both together. She did run into Seamus. She braced herself and decided she had to talk to him.
"Seamus?"
Seamus didn't look at her. His lips were moving but no sound came out.
"Seamus, did Fred and George talk to you?"
Still no answer. Seamus was getting red in the face.
"Seamus, it's not my fault."
Seamus' voice was at a whisper, and getting louder. Soon he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"SHE ISN'T HERE! SHE DOESN'T EXIST! I DON'T SEE HER! SHE IS NOTHING! SHE ISN'T HERE!" Over and over again until Rachel, tears flying down her face like winged drops of warmth ran from the hall.
"I cannot believe him." She said as she talked to Hermione later. Hermione had adapted well to her role as peer mediator and psychiatrist and handed Rachel a tissue, but the next statement she made crossed the line.
"Maybe you're better off without him." She said, almost perkily. Rachel dropped the tissue.
"How can you think that?! We may be fighting, but he'll come around."
"You don't know that. I mean, if he really liked you, he'd believe you."
Doubts were starting to form in Rachel's mind like clouds before a hurricane, but she pushed them away. "I don't want to be alone." She whined. It was true. One of the things Rachel hated more than anything was being alone. It scared her so much.
"It's not THAT bad."
Oh, but it was. Rachel knew this didn't really apply to true "alone- ness" which was different from loneliness. Someone could be lonely in a room full of people. To be alone, you had to be really, alone. Separate. Cut off.
The worst things happened when you were alone.
"Go, change."
"We won't look." Harry said, smiling.
"We came for moral support." Ron grinned at her, then he and Harry turned their faces away and squinted their eye's shut so Rachel could change into her night clothes. When she was done she crawled under the warm blanket their had spread over the squashy, yet spacious sofa.
"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, politely, staring out at the fire.
"Well, you know, we could always play darts." Ron said, grinning evilly. "We can use Lavender's face for a target."
"RON!" Hermione shrieked and cuffed him, hard.
"Shhh!" Rachel said, she wanted to laugh, but still felt depressed. "You'll wake everyone else up!"
"Sorry!" Ron said, sharply, "it was just a suggestion."
"No, Ron, it's my fault."
"You see Rachel, that is where your problem is. You blame yourself, first with Lavender, then with Ron."
"No, really–"
"Let's talk about something else." Harry suggested, and turned to them.
The rest of the night was spent commenting on the twitching teacher, Snape's greasy hair, and how ugly and desperate Lavender was.
They only had a few hours of sleep, not that it really mattered. The next day was a Sunday. They were all woken up by Fred George and Lee, who had decided that the best way to get someone up was to jump on top of them. Feeling a little better, yet a little sore, Rachel changed into some real clothes and went down to breakfast.
She almost burst into tears again. People were staring at her. She could feel their eyes on her back. She stuck unusually close to Hermione, fearing Lavender, Seamus, or worse, both together. She did run into Seamus. She braced herself and decided she had to talk to him.
"Seamus?"
Seamus didn't look at her. His lips were moving but no sound came out.
"Seamus, did Fred and George talk to you?"
Still no answer. Seamus was getting red in the face.
"Seamus, it's not my fault."
Seamus' voice was at a whisper, and getting louder. Soon he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"SHE ISN'T HERE! SHE DOESN'T EXIST! I DON'T SEE HER! SHE IS NOTHING! SHE ISN'T HERE!" Over and over again until Rachel, tears flying down her face like winged drops of warmth ran from the hall.
"I cannot believe him." She said as she talked to Hermione later. Hermione had adapted well to her role as peer mediator and psychiatrist and handed Rachel a tissue, but the next statement she made crossed the line.
"Maybe you're better off without him." She said, almost perkily. Rachel dropped the tissue.
"How can you think that?! We may be fighting, but he'll come around."
"You don't know that. I mean, if he really liked you, he'd believe you."
Doubts were starting to form in Rachel's mind like clouds before a hurricane, but she pushed them away. "I don't want to be alone." She whined. It was true. One of the things Rachel hated more than anything was being alone. It scared her so much.
"It's not THAT bad."
Oh, but it was. Rachel knew this didn't really apply to true "alone- ness" which was different from loneliness. Someone could be lonely in a room full of people. To be alone, you had to be really, alone. Separate. Cut off.
The worst things happened when you were alone.
