+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Um, chapter five. There's still going to be slash. It's still going to belong to JK Rowling. Am I allowed to cease my disclaimers and warnings now? Pretty please? ::sticks out lower lip adorably:: Oh, and did anyone notice we ("we" being ff.net) made TIME Magazine? I was ever so proud, weren't you? Although the only reference to HP fanfic was about a Snape/Draco smut. Boohoo. They couldn't even bear to mention something more pleasant like a Ginny/McGonagall smut.
I got my lesbian stereotypes from:
1. Spending a lot of time in Provincetown.
2. The short story Dancing Backwards.
3. The fic Love In Excess.
4. My parents, explaining why no one likes Tinky Winky. (Actually, I like Po better, but that's beside the point.)
5. Various other sources, including two lesbian friends of my parents, who presented me with a stuffed lavender bunny in my youth and caused me to write f/f slash when I grew up. :(
And this chapter is- have you ever read SilentStalker's Chatroom Anonymity? Well, if you haven't you should. But you know how, even though it's called Romance/Humor, there are one or two really angsty chapters, barely anything funny at all? I can't make myself be that serious, but this chapter is decidedly un-lighthearted, compared to the rest of the fic. (We need a word for that- heavyhearted?)
Oh, yes, and this contains teenagers consuming alcohol. Well... sort of. Oh, and violence, and implied... something, and- yup, time to up the rating. And I was so *proud* of having a PG slashfic! Ah, never mind. Don't want to be a leah-chan.
(Note- My term leah-chan, meaning an author who gives her fics low ratings even when they're very adult, is derived from leah-chan, an ff.net writer. The reason I use her name for this term is that Sacrificial Lamb, my favorite story by her - a) contains Hannah, Justin, and Susan as an s & m threesome, b) centers around Ron seducing Snape, c) has Lisa, Padma, Terry, and Mandy in "a sort of casual group sex thing," and d) is rated PG. Not that I'm going to do any of those things- just imagine how lonely Ivan and Rag would feel!- but, just to be safe, it's PG-13 now.)
Taunting people with Asperger's wasn't my intent, nor am I saying that I believe they're "raving mad." Blame Jack, he can convince me of anything. OCs (my horrid SpellCheck keeps changing that to Ocs) are like that.
Oh, and let's say Christmas holidays go, erm- 12/15-1/5? Because Hogwarts is a majorly cool place, and thus has a really long holiday. Yeah.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
The first study session of Christmas vacation did not last long, what with all the hair arguments and Jack's singing. As a result, the Turpins met Padma a week later for another one. Padma, having been utterly bored, had spent the days studying dragons. She wasn't sure why she did this, except that she thought it would be funny. Lisa was sure to be quite shocked when she knew all the answers, and after four-and-a-half years with Mandy, Padma knew that many people often looked very amusing shocked.
Lisa was one of these people. Her pale eyes grew utterly wide and she started running her fingers through her hair, which Padma continued to find distracting. "Patil, what.... what *happened*?" she gasped, looking utterly terrified.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Padma said very smugly. "Are we done studying now?"
"Oh, no!" Jack cried. "It was such *fun*! And there are no other Hufflepuff first years staying, I need company."
"You're in *Hufflepuff*?" Padma asked him.
"Do you have a problem with my brother being in Hufflepuff?" Lisa asked her, switching expressions. She resembled a fifteen-year-old Professor McGonagall under extreme pressure.
"Erm... no," Padma said.
"Good. Right, next we've got to do... mooncalves. Professor Hagrid told me. *They're* not so vicious either-"
"Maybe Maxime's had an affect on him," Jack muttered. "Can you say 'whipped?'"
Padma snorted.
"Quiet. You have no right to make fun of people for falling in love, Jack. Or you, Patil- but then you don't even believe in mixed marriages, do you? So of course you wouldn't want Professor Hagrid to find happiness, being what he is-"
Perhaps the studying had been foolish. Lisa was getting mean again.
"Anyway, I want to show you a place where they danced. It might help you understand better. It's out behind the lake- the patterns are really quite interesting, beautiful, even. You'll like them, actually- they horrify Muggles so they're really right up your alley."
"Right up my alley?"
"You were friends with a Muggle-born for what, four years, and you couldn't even bother to learn our expressions?"
For the umpteenth time since the tutoring had begun, Padma sighed.
"Anyway. Come on. You coming, Jack?"
"Yes," he said.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Jack had been humming loudly and annoyingly, and Padma had been whistling in harmony. She seemed to remember Mandy telling her something about whistling girls and crowing hens, and for the first time it occurred to her that that was some sort of metaphor. What was the next line? Always come to some bad end, that was it. She was, of course, a whistling girl both literally and figuratively- it was odd that she'd never been one of Trelawney's victims. Perhaps Parvati had pleaded for mercy on her behalf.
"Look," Lisa said, quietly. They were standing just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, on a flat plain.
Jack stopped humming. Padma stopped whistling. Instead, they all stared at the intricate designs beneath their feet. They were abstract, most of them- just lines and circles and crosses that nonetheless seemed to speak to something wispy and chaste and trembling, something deep inside all three of them.
"Wow," Padma said.
"Crikey," Jack said.
"No one says 'crikey,' anymore, Jack," Lisa said. "I told you it was beautiful, though, didn't I?"
"Yeah," Padma breathed.
"I'm going to write a book about mooncalves someday," Lisa continued. "Barely anyone pays attention to them, 'cos they don't hurt anyone- but they're so *beautiful*. Both them and the things they leave behind."
"You can run away if you like- mooncalves get her like this," whispered Jack. "Can't even tell who people are. Raving mad, really. I think she's got Asperger's."
Padma might have if she hadn't been looking at the ground. It was as if her feet were glued to the earth, and her eyes; she couldn't have left if she tried. From their stillness, she could see it was true of the others as well.
"Right," Lisa said suddenly. "Off we go."
They turned around and marched militantly back towards the castle. They weren't halfway there before they found her, lying on the ground. She looked quite peaceful, really, her arms folded across her chest. But she wasn't moving, or even breathing, and in thin, glowing green letters that floated in the air above her head were the words /Watch Out, Mudbloods/. It was as phosphorescent as any firefly, that message. Both literally and figuratively.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
"I really haven't got the time for this," Madam Pomfrey whined to Professor McGonagall. "Not only has a fifth-year been Stunned in an *obvious* message from the Death Eaters, not only did another student have an anxiety attack upon seeing her- oh no!- but half the children here are *loitering* around the infirmary trying to see if they're all right."
"Now, now, sweetums," said McGonagall, laying her hand seductively on Madam Pomfrey's shoulder. "It's all right. You'll handle it. And if things calm down you can meet me for some beer in Hogsmeade tonight."
Padma might have snorted if she hadn't been feeling so scared. As it was, all of Jack's friends did. He was apparently very popular, and his desire to stay with Lisa in the hospital wing until she was pronounced healthy had sparked a huge congregation of all the loud, irritating students in the lower grades- the ones who were staying for the holidays, that is. And, Padma was amused to note, the famous Weasley twins as well.
"Is Mandy awake?" Padma asked for the seventeenth time (she'd kept count). This time, Madam Pomfrey actually heard her over the noise.
"She's awake," she whispered, "but very- well, stunned. Distraught. You're a friend of hers?"
"Kind of," Padma said.
"Normally, of course, I wouldn't want you to visit her- it would annoy her, probably give her a cold."
"Ah."
"But it seems like- well, I couldn't get her to speak to me, actually. Maybe if you-"
"Oh," Padma said. "Okay."
"She's over there- you could just sit on her bed, under the curtains. Probably wouldn't want to see too many people, after what she's been through."
"Yeah," Padma said. "I will."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
"Mandy? You awake?
"I know you can hear me.
"Shit, answer me, would you? I'm sorry- you *know* I'm not like them. I was just mad at you, that's all. You *know* that.
"This isn't funny. If you think it's funny, just laying there like you're- I can see you *breathing*, Mandy.
"Please?
"Fine.
"I swear that's not what I meant, okay? Whoever did that to you was horrible. I don't-
"Look, I'm... I'm gay, okay? I'm in love with you, and I really didn't know how to- what to do, so I just- I just got mad at you. I'm *sorry*. I'm really *sorry*. I *know* you're not like that, but I want you to know I love you. I don't hate you. I want to be your... friend, and I want you to talk, okay? Please?"
"What about *Pierre*?"
"That isn't the point. Who was it?"
"Who was what?"
"The people who Stunned you. Slytherins, right?"
"I... I don't know. I think. Probably sixth or seventh years. I didn't recognize any of them."
"They didn't... do anything to you, did they? It was fast?"
"Well... they called me Mudblood, that's all. I don't know how they knew- can you, can you tell it? To look at me?"
"They'd probably been watching you, silly. And because you're always going on those stupid walks they knew they could get you during the holidays. It wouldn't matter if you could tell, anyway, you know."
"Yeah."
"I'm really sorry."
"It's okay. Anyway, what *about* Pierre?"
"*Mandy*."
"*Padma*."
"Okay. He was very funny and very smart and I'm sure he was quite good-looking. I'm just... not, you know."
"But purple is your least favorite color. And you have really long hair, and you're terrible at sports, you don't wear yellow or green on Thursdays, or leather, and you don't like flannel or have a cat or *anything*. You *can't* be gay."
"Well, I am. But I'll get a haircut if it makes you feel more comfortable."
"Really?"
"No."
"I'm not, you know. Gay."
"Yeah. I know. It was... I mean, I suppose I knew."
"Sorry I didn't notice."
"It's okay. I should have gotten a cat if I really wanted it to be obvious."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Padma sat in the common room, all alone on a sofa. No one was in her dormitory, and although she knew there were some students staying, it felt as though the Ravenclaw dungeons were even more ancient than they were, and haunted by someone a lot less friendly than the Gray Lady.
She had been thumbing absentmindedly through a book of cures for various diseases. She had found it the year before, but only lately had she been returning to the L section. The only entry under lesbianism told you to jump in a lake, swim ten laps, take a bath in undiluted bubotuber pus, and eat some Chocolate Frogs. Then you had to give the Frog cards to every girl you'd ever had a crush on, writing your name in the corner so that they wouldn't have any value. The person who made that one up must have been awfully homophobic, but she'd been considering it anyway.
Now she wasn't, really. It surprised her that she felt so much better now. Maybe coming out did that sort of thing to you.
Someone tumbled through the portrait-hole suddenly, as if they had been pushed by a murderer- or *were* a murderer. Padma felt her heart leap up into her throat and, against her better judgement, she screamed.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
"I-it's okay," Lisa stammered breathily, holding up her hands. "Really. I swear. It's just an inhaler, I promise. Do you know- what an inhaler is?"
"*Oh*," said Padma, who didn't. "Sorry."
"S-sorry," Lisa said. "C-can I have a Chocolate Frog?"
"I thought you hated them."
"I-I do hate them, f-full-blood," Lisa explained, trembling from head to foot. "But they were- it's sort of h-hard to explain."
"Try."
"Er- well, when my mum... d-died, my dad sort of went away, you know? I had to be the parent, sort of. For Jack. And every so often, when he realized he'd been- ignoring us- he'd give us Chocolate Frogs. And for a bit I thought he was getting better when he did. Now I know he never will, but... it takes me back, y-you know? To when I hoped he would..."
"You poor baby!" Padma exclaimed, hugging Lisa. Then she jumped away and they both stood there uncomfortably.
"D'you- have any? Of them?"
"I have Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."
"E-excellent," Lisa observed. "Jack developed a spell to make them all mocha-flavored."
"Like *coffee*?" Padma asked distastefully.
"No!" Lisa cried, so shocked she'd forgotten to stutter. "Who would ever want a coffee-flavored jellybean? I'm talking coffee *ice cream*. Not just coffee ice cream- *Cappuchino Chip* ice cream."
Padma stared. "Oh. My. God."
"You've had it?"
"Mandy brought some to school once. Lisa, if you wish you can say I hate Muggles- but *never* say I hate Muggle ice cream."
Lisa seemed pleased, and dropped her inhaler in the excitement of the moment. "Beans, please?"
Padma dug an enormous grubby bag out of her robes and spilled the contents onto a nearby table.
"*Javagucha*!"
All the beans turned a lovely pale brown, and the two girls fell on them like vultures.
"Yummy!" Padma shrieked.
"Is stating the obvious one of your remarkable gifts?" Lisa countered.
"Yes!" cried Padma. "But I no longer care!"
By the time a quarter of the beans had been consumed, both girls were very, very hyper.
"Guess what?!" Lisa asked.
"What?!"
"Jack told me that Kevin Whitby told him that someone else told him that if you mix cinnamon with butterbeer, it becomes an alcoholic drink!"
"That's so cool! Do you have butterbeer?!"
"Yes! Do you have cinnamon?!"
"Yes! I always keep an economy-sized vat of cinnamon under my bed in case I need it!"
"Great!"
Down the hall ran Padma and Lisa. Up the hall ran Padma and Lisa with three bottles of butterbeer and an economy-sized vat of cinnamon.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Lisa gulped her cinnamon butterbeer. "Ahhhh."
"I agree," Padma said. "This is much better than beer."
"Beer is yucky," Lisa confided. "I had some of my dad's once."
"Do you think we're drunk yet?" Padma asked.
"Maybe not," Lisa said, and swallowed the entire bottle. Padma followed suit.
I suppose you can guess what happened next. If you can't, here's a little help: Ravenclaw fifth-year girls have the dirtiest minds in the magical world (with the obvious exception of Professor McGonagall). But, like Professor McGonagall, Ravenclaw fifth-year girls have an almost superhuman ability to control themselves, even when sitting on Mandy Brocklehurst's bed. But often, when people are drunk, they lose their control, no matter how superhuman it may be.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
::grins nastily:: Ha ha, I did it all in implications. I'm sorry, I just *can't* write kissing or sex or groping or *anything* besides unrequited lust. And the hate part of love/hate. Maybe I'll mature by next chapter? :)
Now for the Answering Of The Reviews. Now that I have been flamed- yes, a fake flame, by someone who had to see me at the AOL boards every day and, apparently, decided she couldn't bear my incessant whining, but a lovely flame nonetheless, a Pulitzer-prize-winning flame- I will no longer blather about this. Of course, if anyone *wants* to flame me...
Normandie M- I didn't fall in love with anyone in the movie, but now that I think about Frik... yeah. He was rather hot. Yup- did I do it too subtext-y? Well, never mind, they're obvious enough here.
Dala (1)- This is quite brilliant. You should post it as a fic- I especially like the alternating caps and lowercase. And do you know where the Adam and Steve thing came from, anyway?
Dala (2)- Thanks, I think. But what's a UST? Is it like an MST except it happens in an urban area, or in Ukraine, or... ::can't think of any more words that start with "u"::
Nest Freemark- Thank you too. I loved your answer to that flame of your story- can't remember the title, but I'm pretty sure it also started with a game of Truth or Dare. ::suddenly realizes that her father is playing Tori Amos, who she has never heard before, just read the lyrics of in Francesca Lia Block books:: Okay, that's just spooky... :) I'm addicted to smileys, y'know.
And as they say at FAP- Read? Review!
Wait, Amanda-the-long-winded has got one more thing to do. I have decided that I will get more (and more interesting) reviews if I ask the readers questions. Fic-related questions. So-
1. What house do you prefer, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?
2. Do you think R. and H. have the same rivalry as Gryffindor and Slytherin?
3. Did you ever write/wonder about any of the Ravenclaws, besides Cho?
4. If so, who?
5. If you're a straight girl, why are you reading f/f?
6. Should Lavender (I just realized I've been mispelling her name the whole fic) and Parvat make an appearance?
7. If they do, should they be a couple? I rather adore the pairing, but what would I do about Seam?
8. Is it bad luck not to have ten questions? I hope not.
Um, chapter five. There's still going to be slash. It's still going to belong to JK Rowling. Am I allowed to cease my disclaimers and warnings now? Pretty please? ::sticks out lower lip adorably:: Oh, and did anyone notice we ("we" being ff.net) made TIME Magazine? I was ever so proud, weren't you? Although the only reference to HP fanfic was about a Snape/Draco smut. Boohoo. They couldn't even bear to mention something more pleasant like a Ginny/McGonagall smut.
I got my lesbian stereotypes from:
1. Spending a lot of time in Provincetown.
2. The short story Dancing Backwards.
3. The fic Love In Excess.
4. My parents, explaining why no one likes Tinky Winky. (Actually, I like Po better, but that's beside the point.)
5. Various other sources, including two lesbian friends of my parents, who presented me with a stuffed lavender bunny in my youth and caused me to write f/f slash when I grew up. :(
And this chapter is- have you ever read SilentStalker's Chatroom Anonymity? Well, if you haven't you should. But you know how, even though it's called Romance/Humor, there are one or two really angsty chapters, barely anything funny at all? I can't make myself be that serious, but this chapter is decidedly un-lighthearted, compared to the rest of the fic. (We need a word for that- heavyhearted?)
Oh, yes, and this contains teenagers consuming alcohol. Well... sort of. Oh, and violence, and implied... something, and- yup, time to up the rating. And I was so *proud* of having a PG slashfic! Ah, never mind. Don't want to be a leah-chan.
(Note- My term leah-chan, meaning an author who gives her fics low ratings even when they're very adult, is derived from leah-chan, an ff.net writer. The reason I use her name for this term is that Sacrificial Lamb, my favorite story by her - a) contains Hannah, Justin, and Susan as an s & m threesome, b) centers around Ron seducing Snape, c) has Lisa, Padma, Terry, and Mandy in "a sort of casual group sex thing," and d) is rated PG. Not that I'm going to do any of those things- just imagine how lonely Ivan and Rag would feel!- but, just to be safe, it's PG-13 now.)
Taunting people with Asperger's wasn't my intent, nor am I saying that I believe they're "raving mad." Blame Jack, he can convince me of anything. OCs (my horrid SpellCheck keeps changing that to Ocs) are like that.
Oh, and let's say Christmas holidays go, erm- 12/15-1/5? Because Hogwarts is a majorly cool place, and thus has a really long holiday. Yeah.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
The first study session of Christmas vacation did not last long, what with all the hair arguments and Jack's singing. As a result, the Turpins met Padma a week later for another one. Padma, having been utterly bored, had spent the days studying dragons. She wasn't sure why she did this, except that she thought it would be funny. Lisa was sure to be quite shocked when she knew all the answers, and after four-and-a-half years with Mandy, Padma knew that many people often looked very amusing shocked.
Lisa was one of these people. Her pale eyes grew utterly wide and she started running her fingers through her hair, which Padma continued to find distracting. "Patil, what.... what *happened*?" she gasped, looking utterly terrified.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Padma said very smugly. "Are we done studying now?"
"Oh, no!" Jack cried. "It was such *fun*! And there are no other Hufflepuff first years staying, I need company."
"You're in *Hufflepuff*?" Padma asked him.
"Do you have a problem with my brother being in Hufflepuff?" Lisa asked her, switching expressions. She resembled a fifteen-year-old Professor McGonagall under extreme pressure.
"Erm... no," Padma said.
"Good. Right, next we've got to do... mooncalves. Professor Hagrid told me. *They're* not so vicious either-"
"Maybe Maxime's had an affect on him," Jack muttered. "Can you say 'whipped?'"
Padma snorted.
"Quiet. You have no right to make fun of people for falling in love, Jack. Or you, Patil- but then you don't even believe in mixed marriages, do you? So of course you wouldn't want Professor Hagrid to find happiness, being what he is-"
Perhaps the studying had been foolish. Lisa was getting mean again.
"Anyway, I want to show you a place where they danced. It might help you understand better. It's out behind the lake- the patterns are really quite interesting, beautiful, even. You'll like them, actually- they horrify Muggles so they're really right up your alley."
"Right up my alley?"
"You were friends with a Muggle-born for what, four years, and you couldn't even bother to learn our expressions?"
For the umpteenth time since the tutoring had begun, Padma sighed.
"Anyway. Come on. You coming, Jack?"
"Yes," he said.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Jack had been humming loudly and annoyingly, and Padma had been whistling in harmony. She seemed to remember Mandy telling her something about whistling girls and crowing hens, and for the first time it occurred to her that that was some sort of metaphor. What was the next line? Always come to some bad end, that was it. She was, of course, a whistling girl both literally and figuratively- it was odd that she'd never been one of Trelawney's victims. Perhaps Parvati had pleaded for mercy on her behalf.
"Look," Lisa said, quietly. They were standing just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, on a flat plain.
Jack stopped humming. Padma stopped whistling. Instead, they all stared at the intricate designs beneath their feet. They were abstract, most of them- just lines and circles and crosses that nonetheless seemed to speak to something wispy and chaste and trembling, something deep inside all three of them.
"Wow," Padma said.
"Crikey," Jack said.
"No one says 'crikey,' anymore, Jack," Lisa said. "I told you it was beautiful, though, didn't I?"
"Yeah," Padma breathed.
"I'm going to write a book about mooncalves someday," Lisa continued. "Barely anyone pays attention to them, 'cos they don't hurt anyone- but they're so *beautiful*. Both them and the things they leave behind."
"You can run away if you like- mooncalves get her like this," whispered Jack. "Can't even tell who people are. Raving mad, really. I think she's got Asperger's."
Padma might have if she hadn't been looking at the ground. It was as if her feet were glued to the earth, and her eyes; she couldn't have left if she tried. From their stillness, she could see it was true of the others as well.
"Right," Lisa said suddenly. "Off we go."
They turned around and marched militantly back towards the castle. They weren't halfway there before they found her, lying on the ground. She looked quite peaceful, really, her arms folded across her chest. But she wasn't moving, or even breathing, and in thin, glowing green letters that floated in the air above her head were the words /Watch Out, Mudbloods/. It was as phosphorescent as any firefly, that message. Both literally and figuratively.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
"I really haven't got the time for this," Madam Pomfrey whined to Professor McGonagall. "Not only has a fifth-year been Stunned in an *obvious* message from the Death Eaters, not only did another student have an anxiety attack upon seeing her- oh no!- but half the children here are *loitering* around the infirmary trying to see if they're all right."
"Now, now, sweetums," said McGonagall, laying her hand seductively on Madam Pomfrey's shoulder. "It's all right. You'll handle it. And if things calm down you can meet me for some beer in Hogsmeade tonight."
Padma might have snorted if she hadn't been feeling so scared. As it was, all of Jack's friends did. He was apparently very popular, and his desire to stay with Lisa in the hospital wing until she was pronounced healthy had sparked a huge congregation of all the loud, irritating students in the lower grades- the ones who were staying for the holidays, that is. And, Padma was amused to note, the famous Weasley twins as well.
"Is Mandy awake?" Padma asked for the seventeenth time (she'd kept count). This time, Madam Pomfrey actually heard her over the noise.
"She's awake," she whispered, "but very- well, stunned. Distraught. You're a friend of hers?"
"Kind of," Padma said.
"Normally, of course, I wouldn't want you to visit her- it would annoy her, probably give her a cold."
"Ah."
"But it seems like- well, I couldn't get her to speak to me, actually. Maybe if you-"
"Oh," Padma said. "Okay."
"She's over there- you could just sit on her bed, under the curtains. Probably wouldn't want to see too many people, after what she's been through."
"Yeah," Padma said. "I will."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
"Mandy? You awake?
"I know you can hear me.
"Shit, answer me, would you? I'm sorry- you *know* I'm not like them. I was just mad at you, that's all. You *know* that.
"This isn't funny. If you think it's funny, just laying there like you're- I can see you *breathing*, Mandy.
"Please?
"Fine.
"I swear that's not what I meant, okay? Whoever did that to you was horrible. I don't-
"Look, I'm... I'm gay, okay? I'm in love with you, and I really didn't know how to- what to do, so I just- I just got mad at you. I'm *sorry*. I'm really *sorry*. I *know* you're not like that, but I want you to know I love you. I don't hate you. I want to be your... friend, and I want you to talk, okay? Please?"
"What about *Pierre*?"
"That isn't the point. Who was it?"
"Who was what?"
"The people who Stunned you. Slytherins, right?"
"I... I don't know. I think. Probably sixth or seventh years. I didn't recognize any of them."
"They didn't... do anything to you, did they? It was fast?"
"Well... they called me Mudblood, that's all. I don't know how they knew- can you, can you tell it? To look at me?"
"They'd probably been watching you, silly. And because you're always going on those stupid walks they knew they could get you during the holidays. It wouldn't matter if you could tell, anyway, you know."
"Yeah."
"I'm really sorry."
"It's okay. Anyway, what *about* Pierre?"
"*Mandy*."
"*Padma*."
"Okay. He was very funny and very smart and I'm sure he was quite good-looking. I'm just... not, you know."
"But purple is your least favorite color. And you have really long hair, and you're terrible at sports, you don't wear yellow or green on Thursdays, or leather, and you don't like flannel or have a cat or *anything*. You *can't* be gay."
"Well, I am. But I'll get a haircut if it makes you feel more comfortable."
"Really?"
"No."
"I'm not, you know. Gay."
"Yeah. I know. It was... I mean, I suppose I knew."
"Sorry I didn't notice."
"It's okay. I should have gotten a cat if I really wanted it to be obvious."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Padma sat in the common room, all alone on a sofa. No one was in her dormitory, and although she knew there were some students staying, it felt as though the Ravenclaw dungeons were even more ancient than they were, and haunted by someone a lot less friendly than the Gray Lady.
She had been thumbing absentmindedly through a book of cures for various diseases. She had found it the year before, but only lately had she been returning to the L section. The only entry under lesbianism told you to jump in a lake, swim ten laps, take a bath in undiluted bubotuber pus, and eat some Chocolate Frogs. Then you had to give the Frog cards to every girl you'd ever had a crush on, writing your name in the corner so that they wouldn't have any value. The person who made that one up must have been awfully homophobic, but she'd been considering it anyway.
Now she wasn't, really. It surprised her that she felt so much better now. Maybe coming out did that sort of thing to you.
Someone tumbled through the portrait-hole suddenly, as if they had been pushed by a murderer- or *were* a murderer. Padma felt her heart leap up into her throat and, against her better judgement, she screamed.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
"I-it's okay," Lisa stammered breathily, holding up her hands. "Really. I swear. It's just an inhaler, I promise. Do you know- what an inhaler is?"
"*Oh*," said Padma, who didn't. "Sorry."
"S-sorry," Lisa said. "C-can I have a Chocolate Frog?"
"I thought you hated them."
"I-I do hate them, f-full-blood," Lisa explained, trembling from head to foot. "But they were- it's sort of h-hard to explain."
"Try."
"Er- well, when my mum... d-died, my dad sort of went away, you know? I had to be the parent, sort of. For Jack. And every so often, when he realized he'd been- ignoring us- he'd give us Chocolate Frogs. And for a bit I thought he was getting better when he did. Now I know he never will, but... it takes me back, y-you know? To when I hoped he would..."
"You poor baby!" Padma exclaimed, hugging Lisa. Then she jumped away and they both stood there uncomfortably.
"D'you- have any? Of them?"
"I have Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."
"E-excellent," Lisa observed. "Jack developed a spell to make them all mocha-flavored."
"Like *coffee*?" Padma asked distastefully.
"No!" Lisa cried, so shocked she'd forgotten to stutter. "Who would ever want a coffee-flavored jellybean? I'm talking coffee *ice cream*. Not just coffee ice cream- *Cappuchino Chip* ice cream."
Padma stared. "Oh. My. God."
"You've had it?"
"Mandy brought some to school once. Lisa, if you wish you can say I hate Muggles- but *never* say I hate Muggle ice cream."
Lisa seemed pleased, and dropped her inhaler in the excitement of the moment. "Beans, please?"
Padma dug an enormous grubby bag out of her robes and spilled the contents onto a nearby table.
"*Javagucha*!"
All the beans turned a lovely pale brown, and the two girls fell on them like vultures.
"Yummy!" Padma shrieked.
"Is stating the obvious one of your remarkable gifts?" Lisa countered.
"Yes!" cried Padma. "But I no longer care!"
By the time a quarter of the beans had been consumed, both girls were very, very hyper.
"Guess what?!" Lisa asked.
"What?!"
"Jack told me that Kevin Whitby told him that someone else told him that if you mix cinnamon with butterbeer, it becomes an alcoholic drink!"
"That's so cool! Do you have butterbeer?!"
"Yes! Do you have cinnamon?!"
"Yes! I always keep an economy-sized vat of cinnamon under my bed in case I need it!"
"Great!"
Down the hall ran Padma and Lisa. Up the hall ran Padma and Lisa with three bottles of butterbeer and an economy-sized vat of cinnamon.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Lisa gulped her cinnamon butterbeer. "Ahhhh."
"I agree," Padma said. "This is much better than beer."
"Beer is yucky," Lisa confided. "I had some of my dad's once."
"Do you think we're drunk yet?" Padma asked.
"Maybe not," Lisa said, and swallowed the entire bottle. Padma followed suit.
I suppose you can guess what happened next. If you can't, here's a little help: Ravenclaw fifth-year girls have the dirtiest minds in the magical world (with the obvious exception of Professor McGonagall). But, like Professor McGonagall, Ravenclaw fifth-year girls have an almost superhuman ability to control themselves, even when sitting on Mandy Brocklehurst's bed. But often, when people are drunk, they lose their control, no matter how superhuman it may be.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
::grins nastily:: Ha ha, I did it all in implications. I'm sorry, I just *can't* write kissing or sex or groping or *anything* besides unrequited lust. And the hate part of love/hate. Maybe I'll mature by next chapter? :)
Now for the Answering Of The Reviews. Now that I have been flamed- yes, a fake flame, by someone who had to see me at the AOL boards every day and, apparently, decided she couldn't bear my incessant whining, but a lovely flame nonetheless, a Pulitzer-prize-winning flame- I will no longer blather about this. Of course, if anyone *wants* to flame me...
Normandie M- I didn't fall in love with anyone in the movie, but now that I think about Frik... yeah. He was rather hot. Yup- did I do it too subtext-y? Well, never mind, they're obvious enough here.
Dala (1)- This is quite brilliant. You should post it as a fic- I especially like the alternating caps and lowercase. And do you know where the Adam and Steve thing came from, anyway?
Dala (2)- Thanks, I think. But what's a UST? Is it like an MST except it happens in an urban area, or in Ukraine, or... ::can't think of any more words that start with "u"::
Nest Freemark- Thank you too. I loved your answer to that flame of your story- can't remember the title, but I'm pretty sure it also started with a game of Truth or Dare. ::suddenly realizes that her father is playing Tori Amos, who she has never heard before, just read the lyrics of in Francesca Lia Block books:: Okay, that's just spooky... :) I'm addicted to smileys, y'know.
And as they say at FAP- Read? Review!
Wait, Amanda-the-long-winded has got one more thing to do. I have decided that I will get more (and more interesting) reviews if I ask the readers questions. Fic-related questions. So-
1. What house do you prefer, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?
2. Do you think R. and H. have the same rivalry as Gryffindor and Slytherin?
3. Did you ever write/wonder about any of the Ravenclaws, besides Cho?
4. If so, who?
5. If you're a straight girl, why are you reading f/f?
6. Should Lavender (I just realized I've been mispelling her name the whole fic) and Parvat make an appearance?
7. If they do, should they be a couple? I rather adore the pairing, but what would I do about Seam?
8. Is it bad luck not to have ten questions? I hope not.