Chapter Seven.
I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because my dog died, but that happened before the last chapter. I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because Dee Dee Ramone died, but my father's the one with the crush. And I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because I died, but face it, I'd have to be dead. And I'm not.
Actually, I'm just lazy.
Right. There's slash in this fic. Most of the characters and the school in this fic belong to JK Rowling, a terribly cool person. If someone steals this fic, I will not care, because I won't lose any money anyway. Also, the beginning of this chapter is somewhat lifted from a book called Five Children And It.
And I'm sorry if the way I've written Mandy offends anyone, 'cos I meant her to be funny.
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Padma wasn't sure why, but she seemed to be standing on an open plain while huge raindrops shaped like triangles fell on her head. She kept her mouth shut tight, because she knew that if she opened it and a triangle dropped in, she would turn into Parvati, and the world would have to deal with two of her. But the rain seemed to want to come inside her, because the raindrops grew larger and thicker until they were just a huge sheet of water, suffocating.
Her eyes snapped open. There was a washcloth on her face, dripping into her nose. "Owww," she said, sitting up. Then, as her head began to ache, she said "Owwww," again.
"Stupid," said someone sitting perched on a sofa, also with a washcloth on her face, "I put that on your head to help with the headache. I'd sort of forgotten that alcohol did that to you."
Padma placed the washcloth back on her head. "Who are you and what are you talking about?"
"Lisa Artemis Turpin, fifth-year-Ravenclaw and aspiring mooncalf researcher. I'm talking about the fact that last night after I had my anxiety attack and Mandy got attacked by Slytherins we drank butterbeer mixed with cinnamon from the secret vat under your bed."
"Oh," Padma said. "Why don't you just put a spell on our heads to make the headache go away?"
"Forgot. Jericulunus!"
"Thank you," Padma said. "And I hate to tell you this, but you're quite out of character this morning."
"I'm sorry," Lisa replied. "I'm just... I dunno." She shook herself all over like a wet dog. "Good morning, Patil, although I find it disgusting that anyone horrible enough to take advantage of someone with an anxiety attack is able to have a good morning in the first place. But I expect that's just a sign of the times."
"Much better. Do you know what time it is?"
Lisa looked at her watch. "Ten o'clock, more or less."
"Shit! I have to go check on Mandy."
"And I've got to go check on Jack. He waited there so long he fell asleep, and Madam Pomfrey was absolutely sure he'd got bitten by a tsetse fly. She said he had to stay the night."
"Right then."
"Okay."
"You're being out of character again."
"Sorry."
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"G'morning!" Mandy cried upon seeing Padma. She was eating vegetable soup, not spam, in the Great Hall. Apparently she had left the hospital wing very early in the day and spent her morning in the library, reading Shakespeare for her parents. So far she had gotten through three whole pages of Romeo and Juliet, and she was very proud of her accomplishment.
"Good morning," Padma said wearily, amused by all the different ways the phrase could be used. "So, I suppose you're-"
Mandy cut her off. "Padma, I've got to talk to you."
"You are talking to me."
"Padma, I'm not saying this because you're a lesbian, because that would be offensive and you'd have to curse me for it, but it's like talking to a bloke sometimes." Mandy swallowed some soup in a way that, according to Padma's mother, was incredibly rude. But she had always been a bit of a fetishist in the area of table manners. "Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to be wonderful and supportive and not say anything stereotypical about gays, because that's what good friends do."
"Oh," said Padma, wondering why she felt so afraid. "Er... all right."
"Good," Mandy said, sounding like a professor even as shoved soup into her mouth. "Just to help me out, you know, so I'm not rude or anything, could I ask you some questions?"
"I knew it," Padma muttered. "I knew you were going to do something horribly annoying just as soon as you started sounding so nice."
"First, should I say 'girlfriend' or 'lover?'"
"What?"
"You know. Of your significant other. Is it offensive to call someone's significant other her girlfriend?"
Padma sat down at the table and a bowl of soup appeared in front of her as well. "Mandy, I haven't got a significant other."
"Of course you have," Mandy said. "I thought all of you did, like you found them with some sort of secret hand signal or something, and then you went off to a bathroom and made out and stuff."
"Mandy, you've got your stereotypes muddled up again. That's gay boys."
Mandy continued to slurp her soup. "So it is. I'm sorry, Padma. Anyway, what should I say?"
Padma took a tiny, mincing spoonful of soup from the opposite side of the bowl. Her mother would have been proud. "I dunno, girlfriend I suppose."
Mandy took a parchment out of her pocket and wrote 'she supposes girlfriend' in large letters upon it. At the top of the page was a large P enchanted to flash rainbow colors. "So why were you so late down this morning anyway?"
Padma blushed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ha!" Mandy trumpeted. "I knew it! So you have got a girlfriend after all!"
Ernie Macmillan, the only other person in the Great Hall, was staring at them in a sort of horror. Padma was surprised she hadn't noticed it before. "I have not got a girlfriend, Mandy."
"Right, then, what were you doing? I promise, I have absolutely no problem with whatever it is you do in bed, I won't go white or anything, I'm perfectly open-minded-"
"You gave Lisa Turpin an anxiety attack, so we drank butterbeer and cinnamon and slept a long time."
"Wait." Mandy threw up a hand suddenly and nearly saturated herself with the soup. "Back up here. What happened?"
-240
Padma explained.
"Blimey," Mandy said, sounding more like a bloke than Padma ever could. "Lisa Turpin. I didn't think she ever talked."
"She talks."
"I suppose there are some people who just stay quiet except one-on-one, you know, kind of the opposite of power in numbers... Padma, have you ever seen that shirt that says 'never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups?' Isn't it brilliant?"
"I used to have it, but Parvati was offended. She said she and Lavender aren't a large group and they manage fine anyway."
"I don't consider them managing... oh God."
"What?" Padma asked. Mandy's eyes had suddenly gone entirely blank, a moment before she broke into hysterical laughter. "Mandy, you haven't got post-traumatic-stress-disorder, have you?"
"No, stupid." Mandy finished her soup and the bowl filled itself again. "Doesn't butterbeer and cinnamon make you drunk?"
"Er... yeah, that was the point."
"You got drunk?"
"Yes."
"You... do you remember anything that happened while you were drunk?"
Padma considered. "Well, no, not really."
"Don't you know what that means?" Mandy was rocking back and forth on her bench with nervous energy and smugness.
"No."
"It means..." Mandy leaned conspiratorially over. "It means you two shagged like bunny rabbits."
"Us two? You mean... my God, Mandy, you're mussing up stereotypes again. Lesbians are supposed to be frigid, you know, and besides... God, Lisa... are you sure you're all right?"
"Never been better," Mandy said perkily. And slurped.
Padma placed spoon in bowl and head in hand, forking fingers through her hair. "I cannot believe you think that. And bunny rabbits, too... that's just awful. Bunny rabbits are sweet and pink, they're not horny. They don't shag."
"Of course they shag! Why else d'you think they multiply so quickly?"
"I never thought about that."
"You're... you know, Padma, sometimes I feel like I've got to explain everything to you. Except Shakespeare, and lesbian stereotypes. Not knowing about... rabbits. And... really, Padma, you got drunk with another girl and didn't remember when you got up, and you haven't any idea what happened?"
"She's not even gay."
"I think she's gay."
"And you know, do you?"
"She looks gay. I saw her wearing leather once..."
Padma sighed. Business as usual. "Mandy, enough about the leather. Lisa isn't gay. Even if she was... God, that's just squicky. We're not each other's types."
-240"But you have to be!" Mandy squealed. "This is just so perfect. You can get a girlfriend, and then Rag and I can get boyfriends- preferably Ivan and Terry- and then we'll all be lovely and paired up for the rest of our school days."
"Mandy, have you ever considered the fact that you might be obsessive-compulsive?"
"Not seriously."
"Well, you should."
"You should consider the fact that you're keeping us from being lovely paired up couples with your racism."
Padma sputtered. "I can't believe you! I am not racist, Mandy. I... am... not... racist. First Lisa and now you, this is-"
"First Lisa and now me, what?" Mandy shoved her soup away carelessly and it spattered all over the table. She started to say something, but the table immediately absorbed the soup and the bowl filled itself again.
Padma sighed. "You know. Her mother was killed by Death Eaters when she was little and she hates me 'cos she thinks I'm racist. Well, she doesn't hate me quite as much now, but she still thinks I'm racist."
Mandy grinned snarkily. "Right."
"Don't do that, Mandy. Why are your eyes gleaming like that?"
"I can see it so clearly now, Padma. It was obviously her own repressed feelings for you that made her act that way."
Padma stood up suddenly. "Why are you doing this?"
"I told you. So we can be lovely and-"
"Mandy. Why are you so intent on getting me a girlfriend?"
Mandy squirmed. She was wearing Muggle clothes, as she usually did out of class. They were fairly loose Muggle clothes, too- someone should probably tell her that when she squirmed, anyone taller (or standing) could look directly down her shirt. Padma wasn't really planning to, though. "So? Why?"
Mandy stopped squirming abruptly and looked elsewhere. "Because... erm... because you're... well, you're my best friend, Padma. I want you to be happy." She blushed darkly and glared at her soup.
"Ha! I knew it!" Padma shrieked triumphantly, then quailed under a stare. "All right, all right, I want you to be happy too. But I have to go read your Shakespeare for you now, okay?"
Mandy smiled brightly, stood, and placed a heavy volume in Padma's arms. Then she sat back down again. "Thank you, love- although please note that I meant that in a highly platonic way."
"Yes."
"And please tell me all the dirty parts."
"Okay."
Padma left the Great Hall whistling. Mandy slurped several more bowls of soup. Ernie Macmillan just stared.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Hullo."
"Hullo."
Pause.
"If you don't mind my asking, who are you?"
"That's absolutely none of your concern, dear."
"Right then. What are you?"
"See above."
Jack crossed his arms and tried his best to look fierce. Mandy giggled. "Oh, all right. I'm... er... Hannah Abbott, and I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"You are not."
"I'm sorry?"
"You've got the wrong color hair."
"Shush. You're just an underclassman-"
"Hannah Abbott is an underclassman, and I'm fairly sure you are as well."
"Close enough. I've only got two more years to go. That isn't the point though. I have to talk to you."
"What about?"
"Your sister."
"My sister?"
"Yes. That touchy, myopic"- Mandy consulted her notes- "leather-wearing Ravenclaw you call your sister. First off, is she gay?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"Believe me, I have your best interests at heart."
"That's what Professor McGonagall said when she gave me detention for two months."
"I'm not Professor McGonagall."
"You're close."
"I am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
0"Prove it."
Mandy said several things, each more obscene than the last.
"Okay, I believe you now."
"You'd better. So? Answer my question."
"Oh, yeah, your question. What was it again?"
"Is your sister gay?"
"Well, let's look at it this way. Have you ever seen an Egyptian pyramid?"
"In books."
"Right. What color were they?"
"Well, yellow sort of. Pink at the dawn, and gold at the sunset, but what does that have to do with-"
"Imagine a pyramid, Mandy. Your favorite."
"The Bent Pyramid? Can I do the Bent Pyramid?"
"No, you've got to do another one."
"But I don't know any other ones."
"Just think of a standard-issue Egyptian pyramid then." Mandy shut her eyes. "Got the mental image?"
"Yeah."
"What color is it?"
"Goldish."
"Goldish. Well, imagine that it's not. Imagine that it's sort of- violet."
"Okay. Now what?"
"That's it."
Mandy's eyes opened. "What d'you mean, that's it? What does a violet Egyptian pyramid have to do with-"
Jack shrugged. "I'm a Hufflepuff, Brocklehurst. I don't have to make sense."
"How do you know who-"
"I was with your friend and my sister when they found you. Now, just think about this- you are a Ravenclaw, after all. And you're four years older than me, so I think I ought to tell you that I can see down your shirt when you sit like that."
Mandy tugged up her shirt rather fruitlessly. "I still don't get it."
"What's a violet Egyptian pyramid made up of? On each side?"
"Er... little purple triangles?"
"Exactly."
"Oh."
Pause.
"That was really odd. Why didn't you just say yes?"
Jack shrugged. "It wasn't as fun."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////Padma's reading of Shakespeare was interrupted by a lot of pounding footsteps. Mandy jumped in through the portrait hole, bounced up and down several times, and shouted "I knew it! I knew it!"
Padma looked up wearily. "Knew what?"
"I went to see Lisa Turpin's brother just now, and he says she is!"
"Is what?"
"Gay, stupid. Or am I supposed to say lesbian? I read that it really pisses you off to high heaven when you get called that-"
"Mandy, didn't I use the word 'gay' when I came out to you?"
"Well, yes, but I was a bit out of it, you know, I thought maybe you'd really said 'lesbian' or 'homosexual-'"
0
"Mandy, if I ever refer to myself as a homosexual, you have the right to pick up your wand, point it at me, and perform the Killing Curse. Same if you ever say it of me, or if anyone else does. I'm not some bloody textbook. What are you going on about?"
"Jack says Lisa is gay."
Padma pushed her hair back. "You didn't just go up and ask him 'Is your sister gay,' did you?"
"Well, yeah."
Padma sighed. "Just because she's gay doesn't mean she likes me, and even if she did like me I don't like her, and even if we liked each other that doesn't mean we... er. You know. With the butterbeer."
"Okay then."
Padma blinked. "What?"
Mandy nodded. "I'll go prove to you that she likes you, and that you two, and I quote 'er, you know, with the butterbeer.' Then you'll have to admit that you like her also, and you can go off and be all lovely and fluffy together."
0Another sigh.
"Padma, you sigh too much."
"I know."
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Three uninteresting but vaguely amusing facts:
1. If you bring the problems of a story into the dialogue (for ex., someone's really out of character or sighs too much), then it looks like you're doing it on purpose and no one realizes that your story is bad.
02. I'm not writing questions anymore. 'Cos I can't think of any, that's why.
3. On the second-to-last episode of the first season of Buffy, where the invisible girl is reading the chapter on Infiltration and Assassination, the text is actually the lyrics to a Beatles song.
Review-ness. Yay. I love that word, don't you? (Oh, and it's probably safer not to read these. I rambled terribly about all manner of things.)
Normandie M- Thank you for reviewing. Actually, I think everyone likes Giles. Oh, and happy birthday in retrospect.
Preserve our jam- Thank you for reviewing. That does sound like an interesting game, but I was looking at the book I got the game from and realized that it really takes place in New Zealand. And they say all the coolest things- like at one point this girl is being sexually harrassed by this guy, and she says something like "Touch me and I'll chop off your goolies." Isn't that the coolest word? Yay, another Tammy-lover! (Although I dislike the name Tammy greatly; it's probably for the best that you couldn't remember.)
Arashi who hasn't signed in- Thank you for reviewing. I didn't have a circa 7th grade astrology obsession phase, just a femslash one. Everyone on Buffy is so anorexic-looking, when Spike takes his shirt off you can actually count his ribs. My dad went to a Buffy chat and there was this horrid guy who kept saying that Tara was fat, and this other horrid guy who said Willow needed a man, and everyone hated Dawn... it was awful. Agh, I'm going on. But I hate it when people act like a girl's fat just because she's not incredibly skinny. I hope that isn't why they got rid of her.
Chisakami- erm, are you Arashi who hasn't signed in? I hope so, because otherwise I'm going to be veerry confused.
Dala- Thank you a lot for reviewing, because (::bows low::) I'm not worthy. I didn't like Angel so much, but I haven't watched the show for very long. The AOL boards are being awful to me and I usually waste the few minutes before they stop working on the sexual orientation board.
Trin- Thank you for reviewing. You are not a moron, because I'm not worthy of your review either. I can't actually remember what it was called, but your fic about Draco in the pipes was wonderful... let's see, I think the title had something to do with candy... was it marshmellows... or cold... yeah, it was Adventures In Ice-O. See, I remembered. And it was lovely. So you're not allowed to call yourself a moron.
fetch- Thank you for reviewing. As one of about three other authors of Padmaslash, you are cool-ish. Ergh... I can't think of anything to say. I think you've written some new fics so I'll go read them when I'm done.
For some reason your name hasn't shown up, or maybe you just didn't type it in, and ff.net unintelligently put your review twice- Thank you for reviewing. Shrugs are fun, although I don't know what "shruggs" are. But I bet they're really cool. You can't watch Buffy 'cos of your school? What an awful school. RAD is a Ravenclaw-y fic? Yay! This is really weird- about a week ago I was near my rather airheaded ex-friend and her equally airheaded best friend as they did their math worksheets together, and was very disturbed to note that they were calling each other Al and Jule (their names are Ali and Julia). My friend suggested that they were lesbian lovers, but I doubt it.
Foxglove Enchante- Thank you for reviewing, for using the word yay, and for trying to flame. Your authorname is cool, and in my new co-favorite book, Death The High Cost Of Living, there's a character named Foxglove. So. Go you.
Kay- ::bows even lower than usual:: I am so not worthy.
Chisakami- You're sweet. D'you know that?
A Big Sign That Says Flame Me- I love you. Greatly.
If you review, everyone, you have a chance (100%, too, unless I suddenly start getting hundreds) to receive a whiny, rambling paragraph from the fic's author. Now don't you want to review?
You don't? Whyever not?
I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because my dog died, but that happened before the last chapter. I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because Dee Dee Ramone died, but my father's the one with the crush. And I wish I could tell you that this chapter took so long because I died, but face it, I'd have to be dead. And I'm not.
Actually, I'm just lazy.
Right. There's slash in this fic. Most of the characters and the school in this fic belong to JK Rowling, a terribly cool person. If someone steals this fic, I will not care, because I won't lose any money anyway. Also, the beginning of this chapter is somewhat lifted from a book called Five Children And It.
And I'm sorry if the way I've written Mandy offends anyone, 'cos I meant her to be funny.
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Padma wasn't sure why, but she seemed to be standing on an open plain while huge raindrops shaped like triangles fell on her head. She kept her mouth shut tight, because she knew that if she opened it and a triangle dropped in, she would turn into Parvati, and the world would have to deal with two of her. But the rain seemed to want to come inside her, because the raindrops grew larger and thicker until they were just a huge sheet of water, suffocating.
Her eyes snapped open. There was a washcloth on her face, dripping into her nose. "Owww," she said, sitting up. Then, as her head began to ache, she said "Owwww," again.
"Stupid," said someone sitting perched on a sofa, also with a washcloth on her face, "I put that on your head to help with the headache. I'd sort of forgotten that alcohol did that to you."
Padma placed the washcloth back on her head. "Who are you and what are you talking about?"
"Lisa Artemis Turpin, fifth-year-Ravenclaw and aspiring mooncalf researcher. I'm talking about the fact that last night after I had my anxiety attack and Mandy got attacked by Slytherins we drank butterbeer mixed with cinnamon from the secret vat under your bed."
"Oh," Padma said. "Why don't you just put a spell on our heads to make the headache go away?"
"Forgot. Jericulunus!"
"Thank you," Padma said. "And I hate to tell you this, but you're quite out of character this morning."
"I'm sorry," Lisa replied. "I'm just... I dunno." She shook herself all over like a wet dog. "Good morning, Patil, although I find it disgusting that anyone horrible enough to take advantage of someone with an anxiety attack is able to have a good morning in the first place. But I expect that's just a sign of the times."
"Much better. Do you know what time it is?"
Lisa looked at her watch. "Ten o'clock, more or less."
"Shit! I have to go check on Mandy."
"And I've got to go check on Jack. He waited there so long he fell asleep, and Madam Pomfrey was absolutely sure he'd got bitten by a tsetse fly. She said he had to stay the night."
"Right then."
"Okay."
"You're being out of character again."
"Sorry."
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"G'morning!" Mandy cried upon seeing Padma. She was eating vegetable soup, not spam, in the Great Hall. Apparently she had left the hospital wing very early in the day and spent her morning in the library, reading Shakespeare for her parents. So far she had gotten through three whole pages of Romeo and Juliet, and she was very proud of her accomplishment.
"Good morning," Padma said wearily, amused by all the different ways the phrase could be used. "So, I suppose you're-"
Mandy cut her off. "Padma, I've got to talk to you."
"You are talking to me."
"Padma, I'm not saying this because you're a lesbian, because that would be offensive and you'd have to curse me for it, but it's like talking to a bloke sometimes." Mandy swallowed some soup in a way that, according to Padma's mother, was incredibly rude. But she had always been a bit of a fetishist in the area of table manners. "Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to be wonderful and supportive and not say anything stereotypical about gays, because that's what good friends do."
"Oh," said Padma, wondering why she felt so afraid. "Er... all right."
"Good," Mandy said, sounding like a professor even as shoved soup into her mouth. "Just to help me out, you know, so I'm not rude or anything, could I ask you some questions?"
"I knew it," Padma muttered. "I knew you were going to do something horribly annoying just as soon as you started sounding so nice."
"First, should I say 'girlfriend' or 'lover?'"
"What?"
"You know. Of your significant other. Is it offensive to call someone's significant other her girlfriend?"
Padma sat down at the table and a bowl of soup appeared in front of her as well. "Mandy, I haven't got a significant other."
"Of course you have," Mandy said. "I thought all of you did, like you found them with some sort of secret hand signal or something, and then you went off to a bathroom and made out and stuff."
"Mandy, you've got your stereotypes muddled up again. That's gay boys."
Mandy continued to slurp her soup. "So it is. I'm sorry, Padma. Anyway, what should I say?"
Padma took a tiny, mincing spoonful of soup from the opposite side of the bowl. Her mother would have been proud. "I dunno, girlfriend I suppose."
Mandy took a parchment out of her pocket and wrote 'she supposes girlfriend' in large letters upon it. At the top of the page was a large P enchanted to flash rainbow colors. "So why were you so late down this morning anyway?"
Padma blushed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ha!" Mandy trumpeted. "I knew it! So you have got a girlfriend after all!"
Ernie Macmillan, the only other person in the Great Hall, was staring at them in a sort of horror. Padma was surprised she hadn't noticed it before. "I have not got a girlfriend, Mandy."
"Right, then, what were you doing? I promise, I have absolutely no problem with whatever it is you do in bed, I won't go white or anything, I'm perfectly open-minded-"
"You gave Lisa Turpin an anxiety attack, so we drank butterbeer and cinnamon and slept a long time."
"Wait." Mandy threw up a hand suddenly and nearly saturated herself with the soup. "Back up here. What happened?"
-240
Padma explained.
"Blimey," Mandy said, sounding more like a bloke than Padma ever could. "Lisa Turpin. I didn't think she ever talked."
"She talks."
"I suppose there are some people who just stay quiet except one-on-one, you know, kind of the opposite of power in numbers... Padma, have you ever seen that shirt that says 'never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups?' Isn't it brilliant?"
"I used to have it, but Parvati was offended. She said she and Lavender aren't a large group and they manage fine anyway."
"I don't consider them managing... oh God."
"What?" Padma asked. Mandy's eyes had suddenly gone entirely blank, a moment before she broke into hysterical laughter. "Mandy, you haven't got post-traumatic-stress-disorder, have you?"
"No, stupid." Mandy finished her soup and the bowl filled itself again. "Doesn't butterbeer and cinnamon make you drunk?"
"Er... yeah, that was the point."
"You got drunk?"
"Yes."
"You... do you remember anything that happened while you were drunk?"
Padma considered. "Well, no, not really."
"Don't you know what that means?" Mandy was rocking back and forth on her bench with nervous energy and smugness.
"No."
"It means..." Mandy leaned conspiratorially over. "It means you two shagged like bunny rabbits."
"Us two? You mean... my God, Mandy, you're mussing up stereotypes again. Lesbians are supposed to be frigid, you know, and besides... God, Lisa... are you sure you're all right?"
"Never been better," Mandy said perkily. And slurped.
Padma placed spoon in bowl and head in hand, forking fingers through her hair. "I cannot believe you think that. And bunny rabbits, too... that's just awful. Bunny rabbits are sweet and pink, they're not horny. They don't shag."
"Of course they shag! Why else d'you think they multiply so quickly?"
"I never thought about that."
"You're... you know, Padma, sometimes I feel like I've got to explain everything to you. Except Shakespeare, and lesbian stereotypes. Not knowing about... rabbits. And... really, Padma, you got drunk with another girl and didn't remember when you got up, and you haven't any idea what happened?"
"She's not even gay."
"I think she's gay."
"And you know, do you?"
"She looks gay. I saw her wearing leather once..."
Padma sighed. Business as usual. "Mandy, enough about the leather. Lisa isn't gay. Even if she was... God, that's just squicky. We're not each other's types."
-240"But you have to be!" Mandy squealed. "This is just so perfect. You can get a girlfriend, and then Rag and I can get boyfriends- preferably Ivan and Terry- and then we'll all be lovely and paired up for the rest of our school days."
"Mandy, have you ever considered the fact that you might be obsessive-compulsive?"
"Not seriously."
"Well, you should."
"You should consider the fact that you're keeping us from being lovely paired up couples with your racism."
Padma sputtered. "I can't believe you! I am not racist, Mandy. I... am... not... racist. First Lisa and now you, this is-"
"First Lisa and now me, what?" Mandy shoved her soup away carelessly and it spattered all over the table. She started to say something, but the table immediately absorbed the soup and the bowl filled itself again.
Padma sighed. "You know. Her mother was killed by Death Eaters when she was little and she hates me 'cos she thinks I'm racist. Well, she doesn't hate me quite as much now, but she still thinks I'm racist."
Mandy grinned snarkily. "Right."
"Don't do that, Mandy. Why are your eyes gleaming like that?"
"I can see it so clearly now, Padma. It was obviously her own repressed feelings for you that made her act that way."
Padma stood up suddenly. "Why are you doing this?"
"I told you. So we can be lovely and-"
"Mandy. Why are you so intent on getting me a girlfriend?"
Mandy squirmed. She was wearing Muggle clothes, as she usually did out of class. They were fairly loose Muggle clothes, too- someone should probably tell her that when she squirmed, anyone taller (or standing) could look directly down her shirt. Padma wasn't really planning to, though. "So? Why?"
Mandy stopped squirming abruptly and looked elsewhere. "Because... erm... because you're... well, you're my best friend, Padma. I want you to be happy." She blushed darkly and glared at her soup.
"Ha! I knew it!" Padma shrieked triumphantly, then quailed under a stare. "All right, all right, I want you to be happy too. But I have to go read your Shakespeare for you now, okay?"
Mandy smiled brightly, stood, and placed a heavy volume in Padma's arms. Then she sat back down again. "Thank you, love- although please note that I meant that in a highly platonic way."
"Yes."
"And please tell me all the dirty parts."
"Okay."
Padma left the Great Hall whistling. Mandy slurped several more bowls of soup. Ernie Macmillan just stared.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++"Hullo."
"Hullo."
Pause.
"If you don't mind my asking, who are you?"
"That's absolutely none of your concern, dear."
"Right then. What are you?"
"See above."
Jack crossed his arms and tried his best to look fierce. Mandy giggled. "Oh, all right. I'm... er... Hannah Abbott, and I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"You are not."
"I'm sorry?"
"You've got the wrong color hair."
"Shush. You're just an underclassman-"
"Hannah Abbott is an underclassman, and I'm fairly sure you are as well."
"Close enough. I've only got two more years to go. That isn't the point though. I have to talk to you."
"What about?"
"Your sister."
"My sister?"
"Yes. That touchy, myopic"- Mandy consulted her notes- "leather-wearing Ravenclaw you call your sister. First off, is she gay?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"Believe me, I have your best interests at heart."
"That's what Professor McGonagall said when she gave me detention for two months."
"I'm not Professor McGonagall."
"You're close."
"I am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
0"Prove it."
Mandy said several things, each more obscene than the last.
"Okay, I believe you now."
"You'd better. So? Answer my question."
"Oh, yeah, your question. What was it again?"
"Is your sister gay?"
"Well, let's look at it this way. Have you ever seen an Egyptian pyramid?"
"In books."
"Right. What color were they?"
"Well, yellow sort of. Pink at the dawn, and gold at the sunset, but what does that have to do with-"
"Imagine a pyramid, Mandy. Your favorite."
"The Bent Pyramid? Can I do the Bent Pyramid?"
"No, you've got to do another one."
"But I don't know any other ones."
"Just think of a standard-issue Egyptian pyramid then." Mandy shut her eyes. "Got the mental image?"
"Yeah."
"What color is it?"
"Goldish."
"Goldish. Well, imagine that it's not. Imagine that it's sort of- violet."
"Okay. Now what?"
"That's it."
Mandy's eyes opened. "What d'you mean, that's it? What does a violet Egyptian pyramid have to do with-"
Jack shrugged. "I'm a Hufflepuff, Brocklehurst. I don't have to make sense."
"How do you know who-"
"I was with your friend and my sister when they found you. Now, just think about this- you are a Ravenclaw, after all. And you're four years older than me, so I think I ought to tell you that I can see down your shirt when you sit like that."
Mandy tugged up her shirt rather fruitlessly. "I still don't get it."
"What's a violet Egyptian pyramid made up of? On each side?"
"Er... little purple triangles?"
"Exactly."
"Oh."
Pause.
"That was really odd. Why didn't you just say yes?"
Jack shrugged. "It wasn't as fun."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////Padma's reading of Shakespeare was interrupted by a lot of pounding footsteps. Mandy jumped in through the portrait hole, bounced up and down several times, and shouted "I knew it! I knew it!"
Padma looked up wearily. "Knew what?"
"I went to see Lisa Turpin's brother just now, and he says she is!"
"Is what?"
"Gay, stupid. Or am I supposed to say lesbian? I read that it really pisses you off to high heaven when you get called that-"
"Mandy, didn't I use the word 'gay' when I came out to you?"
"Well, yes, but I was a bit out of it, you know, I thought maybe you'd really said 'lesbian' or 'homosexual-'"
0
"Mandy, if I ever refer to myself as a homosexual, you have the right to pick up your wand, point it at me, and perform the Killing Curse. Same if you ever say it of me, or if anyone else does. I'm not some bloody textbook. What are you going on about?"
"Jack says Lisa is gay."
Padma pushed her hair back. "You didn't just go up and ask him 'Is your sister gay,' did you?"
"Well, yeah."
Padma sighed. "Just because she's gay doesn't mean she likes me, and even if she did like me I don't like her, and even if we liked each other that doesn't mean we... er. You know. With the butterbeer."
"Okay then."
Padma blinked. "What?"
Mandy nodded. "I'll go prove to you that she likes you, and that you two, and I quote 'er, you know, with the butterbeer.' Then you'll have to admit that you like her also, and you can go off and be all lovely and fluffy together."
0Another sigh.
"Padma, you sigh too much."
"I know."
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Three uninteresting but vaguely amusing facts:
1. If you bring the problems of a story into the dialogue (for ex., someone's really out of character or sighs too much), then it looks like you're doing it on purpose and no one realizes that your story is bad.
02. I'm not writing questions anymore. 'Cos I can't think of any, that's why.
3. On the second-to-last episode of the first season of Buffy, where the invisible girl is reading the chapter on Infiltration and Assassination, the text is actually the lyrics to a Beatles song.
Review-ness. Yay. I love that word, don't you? (Oh, and it's probably safer not to read these. I rambled terribly about all manner of things.)
Normandie M- Thank you for reviewing. Actually, I think everyone likes Giles. Oh, and happy birthday in retrospect.
Preserve our jam- Thank you for reviewing. That does sound like an interesting game, but I was looking at the book I got the game from and realized that it really takes place in New Zealand. And they say all the coolest things- like at one point this girl is being sexually harrassed by this guy, and she says something like "Touch me and I'll chop off your goolies." Isn't that the coolest word? Yay, another Tammy-lover! (Although I dislike the name Tammy greatly; it's probably for the best that you couldn't remember.)
Arashi who hasn't signed in- Thank you for reviewing. I didn't have a circa 7th grade astrology obsession phase, just a femslash one. Everyone on Buffy is so anorexic-looking, when Spike takes his shirt off you can actually count his ribs. My dad went to a Buffy chat and there was this horrid guy who kept saying that Tara was fat, and this other horrid guy who said Willow needed a man, and everyone hated Dawn... it was awful. Agh, I'm going on. But I hate it when people act like a girl's fat just because she's not incredibly skinny. I hope that isn't why they got rid of her.
Chisakami- erm, are you Arashi who hasn't signed in? I hope so, because otherwise I'm going to be veerry confused.
Dala- Thank you a lot for reviewing, because (::bows low::) I'm not worthy. I didn't like Angel so much, but I haven't watched the show for very long. The AOL boards are being awful to me and I usually waste the few minutes before they stop working on the sexual orientation board.
Trin- Thank you for reviewing. You are not a moron, because I'm not worthy of your review either. I can't actually remember what it was called, but your fic about Draco in the pipes was wonderful... let's see, I think the title had something to do with candy... was it marshmellows... or cold... yeah, it was Adventures In Ice-O. See, I remembered. And it was lovely. So you're not allowed to call yourself a moron.
fetch- Thank you for reviewing. As one of about three other authors of Padmaslash, you are cool-ish. Ergh... I can't think of anything to say. I think you've written some new fics so I'll go read them when I'm done.
For some reason your name hasn't shown up, or maybe you just didn't type it in, and ff.net unintelligently put your review twice- Thank you for reviewing. Shrugs are fun, although I don't know what "shruggs" are. But I bet they're really cool. You can't watch Buffy 'cos of your school? What an awful school. RAD is a Ravenclaw-y fic? Yay! This is really weird- about a week ago I was near my rather airheaded ex-friend and her equally airheaded best friend as they did their math worksheets together, and was very disturbed to note that they were calling each other Al and Jule (their names are Ali and Julia). My friend suggested that they were lesbian lovers, but I doubt it.
Foxglove Enchante- Thank you for reviewing, for using the word yay, and for trying to flame. Your authorname is cool, and in my new co-favorite book, Death The High Cost Of Living, there's a character named Foxglove. So. Go you.
Kay- ::bows even lower than usual:: I am so not worthy.
Chisakami- You're sweet. D'you know that?
A Big Sign That Says Flame Me- I love you. Greatly.
If you review, everyone, you have a chance (100%, too, unless I suddenly start getting hundreds) to receive a whiny, rambling paragraph from the fic's author. Now don't you want to review?
You don't? Whyever not?