Seven
I spent that evening in the hospital wing. I spent the next day in the hospital wing. And then, for a change of pace, I spent the rest of the week there. Just in case I wasn't bored off my ass by the second day. Lets just say I started playing a lot of solitaire.
The good news was that my scars were gone. The bad news was that I felt somehow even more reclusive than I had at the beginning of the whole affair. The whole school knew that something was up, and in retaliation for not being able to figure out what it was they had taken to spreading rumors like wildfire.
I had run away. I had tried to kill myself. My personal favorite came from that infernal Parvati Patil. She told everyone in Gryffindor that Snape had gotten me pregnant. It was a bit of a laugh to hear him relate the story of how he had given her a week's worth of detention for spreading lies and deducted seventy points from her house. Bitch. I only wished I could have been there to lay the smack down myself.
Snape came to visit me every evening. I could set my watch by him. Every night at exactly ten the clock would strike and on the final note Snape would come billowing through the doors to the hospital wing, carrying a book of my choosing. This evening he was particularly ruffled because I had sent him all the way to muggle London to find me a copy of Fight Club a week before. He had come back in quite a sour mood complaining that they had given him strange looks and told him they'd have to order it in. When they had asked for his phone number he had been double confounded and told them just to hold it, that he would be in one week from then.
Which brought us to this evening. He sidled up to the side of my bed and I eagerly reached out to take the book from his hands. I was like a child with a new Barney doll. Or whatever children were playing with these days. I was a bit out of the loop in that department. I flipped through the pages with zeal. I couldn't believe it. I had forgotten my own copy back at home when I had come last September and was missing it horribly. I looked up to see Snape sneering down at the book as if it smelled bad. I frowned.
"What's the matter with you now?" I wrinkled my nose at his dour expression.
"I read a bit of that rubbish on the way back here," he chided me. I laughed.
"Good for you."
"It was total garbage. Couldn't understand a stitch of it!"
"That's because you're not seasoned in the ways of contemporary American muggle literature," I snarled back.
"And right glad of it, I think," he retorted. I growled at him and thrust the book back into his protesting hands. "Read to me," I demanded.
"You really are helpless for a girl your age," he answered as he took the book and opened it to the first page.
"You do want me to start at the beginning don't you? Not that it would matter with this piece of trash but."
"Just be quiet and read."
"Be quiet and read. Have you ever heard of an oxy moron you silly girl?"
"Kind of like human potions master," I asked, an edge to my voice. He snarled. I laughed. And with that he began to read.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Finally, a week later, I was released from the hospital wing much to the dismay of my housemates. The four evil hags with whom I was unfortunate enough to have to share a bedroom had commandeered my bed, my chest of drawers and my desk and filled it with their own things. I walked in to find all three of their longhaired, shedding, white cats upon my black silk bedspread. I wanted to tear my hair out.
"Well, look who's back," sneered Anastacia.
"Did you get that abortion we've been hearing all about? So is it true that the slimy old git raped you down in those dungeons?"
I looked from the girls to the cats and back again. Then I threw my bag down upon the bed and laughed as the three beasts that had been sleeping there had been forced to scatter or be crushed. This was met with indignant glares from my housemates.
"You can't rape the willing, girls," I answered coyly. Each of them exchanged wrinkled nosed, disgusted faces and gathered up their things.
"We're going to the common room," the snapped as they made their way out and slammed the door behind them.
"Thank god," I thought. And on that note I decided I'd really like to have a long, hot shower. I gathered my things, undressed, put on my shower robe, and stepped into our loo that was just off the right side of our room.
Forty-five minutes later I emerged from what had become a steam room to find my quarter of the bedroom in complete and utter disarray. My bed had been stripped, my clothes were missing, and my books and other personal belongings were nowhere to be found. I put my hands on my hips and advanced on my bed to find a small piece of parchment lying there.
"Dear Outcast," it had read. At least they had put some thought into it. "We have decided that you are not fit to dwell among normal human beings. You'll find that all your things have been relocated. Since you like Snape so much you can just go and sleep with him. You did, after all, admit that you were willing. Pleasant dreams." It wasn't signed.
"Smart," I said to myself as I picked up my chin and prepared myself for the march of shame out through the common room with sopping wet hair and wearing my bathrobe. I was leaving sodden footprints on the stone floor as I walked, and the group that had assembled in the common room must have heard my feet smacking against the floor because they had waited until I had reached the common room before bursting into a fat fit of laughter. Bastards.
I spared none of them so much as a glance as I walked proudly, as if nothing were amiss, out the portrait hole and down the hall. Somehow I was pretty sure where I could find my belongings.
I spent that evening in the hospital wing. I spent the next day in the hospital wing. And then, for a change of pace, I spent the rest of the week there. Just in case I wasn't bored off my ass by the second day. Lets just say I started playing a lot of solitaire.
The good news was that my scars were gone. The bad news was that I felt somehow even more reclusive than I had at the beginning of the whole affair. The whole school knew that something was up, and in retaliation for not being able to figure out what it was they had taken to spreading rumors like wildfire.
I had run away. I had tried to kill myself. My personal favorite came from that infernal Parvati Patil. She told everyone in Gryffindor that Snape had gotten me pregnant. It was a bit of a laugh to hear him relate the story of how he had given her a week's worth of detention for spreading lies and deducted seventy points from her house. Bitch. I only wished I could have been there to lay the smack down myself.
Snape came to visit me every evening. I could set my watch by him. Every night at exactly ten the clock would strike and on the final note Snape would come billowing through the doors to the hospital wing, carrying a book of my choosing. This evening he was particularly ruffled because I had sent him all the way to muggle London to find me a copy of Fight Club a week before. He had come back in quite a sour mood complaining that they had given him strange looks and told him they'd have to order it in. When they had asked for his phone number he had been double confounded and told them just to hold it, that he would be in one week from then.
Which brought us to this evening. He sidled up to the side of my bed and I eagerly reached out to take the book from his hands. I was like a child with a new Barney doll. Or whatever children were playing with these days. I was a bit out of the loop in that department. I flipped through the pages with zeal. I couldn't believe it. I had forgotten my own copy back at home when I had come last September and was missing it horribly. I looked up to see Snape sneering down at the book as if it smelled bad. I frowned.
"What's the matter with you now?" I wrinkled my nose at his dour expression.
"I read a bit of that rubbish on the way back here," he chided me. I laughed.
"Good for you."
"It was total garbage. Couldn't understand a stitch of it!"
"That's because you're not seasoned in the ways of contemporary American muggle literature," I snarled back.
"And right glad of it, I think," he retorted. I growled at him and thrust the book back into his protesting hands. "Read to me," I demanded.
"You really are helpless for a girl your age," he answered as he took the book and opened it to the first page.
"You do want me to start at the beginning don't you? Not that it would matter with this piece of trash but."
"Just be quiet and read."
"Be quiet and read. Have you ever heard of an oxy moron you silly girl?"
"Kind of like human potions master," I asked, an edge to my voice. He snarled. I laughed. And with that he began to read.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Finally, a week later, I was released from the hospital wing much to the dismay of my housemates. The four evil hags with whom I was unfortunate enough to have to share a bedroom had commandeered my bed, my chest of drawers and my desk and filled it with their own things. I walked in to find all three of their longhaired, shedding, white cats upon my black silk bedspread. I wanted to tear my hair out.
"Well, look who's back," sneered Anastacia.
"Did you get that abortion we've been hearing all about? So is it true that the slimy old git raped you down in those dungeons?"
I looked from the girls to the cats and back again. Then I threw my bag down upon the bed and laughed as the three beasts that had been sleeping there had been forced to scatter or be crushed. This was met with indignant glares from my housemates.
"You can't rape the willing, girls," I answered coyly. Each of them exchanged wrinkled nosed, disgusted faces and gathered up their things.
"We're going to the common room," the snapped as they made their way out and slammed the door behind them.
"Thank god," I thought. And on that note I decided I'd really like to have a long, hot shower. I gathered my things, undressed, put on my shower robe, and stepped into our loo that was just off the right side of our room.
Forty-five minutes later I emerged from what had become a steam room to find my quarter of the bedroom in complete and utter disarray. My bed had been stripped, my clothes were missing, and my books and other personal belongings were nowhere to be found. I put my hands on my hips and advanced on my bed to find a small piece of parchment lying there.
"Dear Outcast," it had read. At least they had put some thought into it. "We have decided that you are not fit to dwell among normal human beings. You'll find that all your things have been relocated. Since you like Snape so much you can just go and sleep with him. You did, after all, admit that you were willing. Pleasant dreams." It wasn't signed.
"Smart," I said to myself as I picked up my chin and prepared myself for the march of shame out through the common room with sopping wet hair and wearing my bathrobe. I was leaving sodden footprints on the stone floor as I walked, and the group that had assembled in the common room must have heard my feet smacking against the floor because they had waited until I had reached the common room before bursting into a fat fit of laughter. Bastards.
I spared none of them so much as a glance as I walked proudly, as if nothing were amiss, out the portrait hole and down the hall. Somehow I was pretty sure where I could find my belongings.