Monica was in her room, unable to decide what to do. There seemed to be two
options: locking herself up in this room and never go out; getting out and
facing her parents; or running away.
Monica chose the second option. They had it coming, those liars who were the most lousy excuse for parents she had ever seen. No wonder Sapphire was such a freak. Sapphire was deep into Arithmancy, and spent hours in her room studying it. Her usual Halloween costume was of a number chart, and her bed sheets were full of numbers.
It was all making so much sense to her now - her seventeen-year-old parents doing it on their last night; her mother getting pregnant, finding out about it only three months later. She must have been shocked. She probably didn't even want a baby.
I was unwanted. This thought hurt Monica as if a white-hot knife was stabbing her heart. My own mother did not want to have me, and my own father was so unwilling to, that he simply abandoned Mom to have me and take care of my all by herself.
She could not decide which was worse - the deed or the fact they had kept it secret.
Liars!
She used to think she was close with her father. She used to think they were best friends, that there were no secrets between them. How wrong she was.
That was it. She took her trunk, which she had not unpacked yet - she would not stay in this house for another minute. Where was her broomstick?
Monica was one of the Chasers in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She had a Fireloop - the newest version of the Firebolt. She now took her Fireloop out of her trunk, covered herself in her winter cloak and opened the window.
The cool night air washed over her face as she tried to decide where to go. Not to Harry and Ginny's house, that was obvious. They would send her back here immediately. So would Ron and Luna. No, she needed someone who was not in contact with her parents. Had Katelyn been home, Monica would have gone to her house, but Katelyn was abroad to visit her cousins and Monica did not exactly feel like going to France.
And then, the thought striked her.
Robin.
She could go to Robin's house. After all, they were in a very good relationship lately, and after this dance the night before... she felt the tingling spread in her body again, and in the meantime wondered how she could possibly feel passion when her life was so ironically shattered.
Yes, she would go to Robin.
Monica placed the trunk on the broomstick and set off. As she rose up in the air, she could see, very far away in the horizon, something that sparkled like a falling star. And the only thing she could think of, was that it was the first time in her whole life that this sight did not cheer her up at all.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I must see her immediately," said Hermione at once.
"But she wouldn't talk to us."
"Let me try," said Hermione and got to her feet. She got out of the bedroom and walked upstairs to her eldest daughter's bedroom, fear and worry washing over her. Monica knew that her own mother got pregnant when she had been her age. Would she ever be able to respect her again?
Hermione only knew one thing - she had to see her immediately. She hurried over to Monica's bedroom door and knocked. "Monica? Sweetheart? It's me. We need to talk."
No answer was heard. Hermione, at least, did not hear a word.
She tried again. "Monica - I know you must be very upset, and I totally understand you. You are absolutely right. But honey, I want you to remember that no matter what, I'm still your mother and I love you more than anything. Let's talk."
No comment from Monica.
Hermione tried again. "Please?"
Still no answer.
"Mon, don't do this to me," she pleaded.
When she still couldn't hear anything, she gave up. "Monica, listen to me," she raised her voice, "if you don't open the door this instant, I will open it myself! I'm giving you three seconds to answer - one - " she drew out her wand - "two - three - Alohomora!"
The door cracked open, and Hermione was surprised to see the darkness inside. She stepped in, turned on the lights, and had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
Monica was gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was almost eleven-thirty P.M., but no one was asleep in the McKay's house when the doorbell rang. After all, it was the first day of Christmas break.
"Robin, get the door, please," cried Mrs. McKay.
"All right, Mom," answered Robin as he walked down the stairs. He went over to the front door, opened it and gasped.
There was Monica Malfoy, the dream-girl of almost every boy in Hogwarts. Her long, blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she was wearing a long, blue winter cloak, on which he could see small snowflakes. She was holding a broomstick - has she flown over here? - and a trunk - why, for heaven's sake? But it was Monica, and as a wet curl fell over her face, he could see she was smiling an embarrassed and a sort of bitter smile.
"M-Monica?!" he choked. "What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you, too," she said mischievously, and Robin's heart was suddenly filled with warmth. He smiled back. "Hi."
"So," she said, "what's up?"
That was a very relevant question, thought Robin to himself. "I'm fine," he said, "how about you?"
"I'm a bit cold," she replied.
"Well, come on in," he invited her.
Monica picked up her trunk and stepped inside into the house.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: I'm so sorry I don't write longer chapters... I promise to keep trying... I'm just busier than ever... :-(
Burgundyred: Thank you! Oh, and by the way, I know the British spell it Mum, not Mom, but I'm not British... I'm not American, too, but my English is more American and so are my stories. I can't change my style... :-S
Monica chose the second option. They had it coming, those liars who were the most lousy excuse for parents she had ever seen. No wonder Sapphire was such a freak. Sapphire was deep into Arithmancy, and spent hours in her room studying it. Her usual Halloween costume was of a number chart, and her bed sheets were full of numbers.
It was all making so much sense to her now - her seventeen-year-old parents doing it on their last night; her mother getting pregnant, finding out about it only three months later. She must have been shocked. She probably didn't even want a baby.
I was unwanted. This thought hurt Monica as if a white-hot knife was stabbing her heart. My own mother did not want to have me, and my own father was so unwilling to, that he simply abandoned Mom to have me and take care of my all by herself.
She could not decide which was worse - the deed or the fact they had kept it secret.
Liars!
She used to think she was close with her father. She used to think they were best friends, that there were no secrets between them. How wrong she was.
That was it. She took her trunk, which she had not unpacked yet - she would not stay in this house for another minute. Where was her broomstick?
Monica was one of the Chasers in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She had a Fireloop - the newest version of the Firebolt. She now took her Fireloop out of her trunk, covered herself in her winter cloak and opened the window.
The cool night air washed over her face as she tried to decide where to go. Not to Harry and Ginny's house, that was obvious. They would send her back here immediately. So would Ron and Luna. No, she needed someone who was not in contact with her parents. Had Katelyn been home, Monica would have gone to her house, but Katelyn was abroad to visit her cousins and Monica did not exactly feel like going to France.
And then, the thought striked her.
Robin.
She could go to Robin's house. After all, they were in a very good relationship lately, and after this dance the night before... she felt the tingling spread in her body again, and in the meantime wondered how she could possibly feel passion when her life was so ironically shattered.
Yes, she would go to Robin.
Monica placed the trunk on the broomstick and set off. As she rose up in the air, she could see, very far away in the horizon, something that sparkled like a falling star. And the only thing she could think of, was that it was the first time in her whole life that this sight did not cheer her up at all.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I must see her immediately," said Hermione at once.
"But she wouldn't talk to us."
"Let me try," said Hermione and got to her feet. She got out of the bedroom and walked upstairs to her eldest daughter's bedroom, fear and worry washing over her. Monica knew that her own mother got pregnant when she had been her age. Would she ever be able to respect her again?
Hermione only knew one thing - she had to see her immediately. She hurried over to Monica's bedroom door and knocked. "Monica? Sweetheart? It's me. We need to talk."
No answer was heard. Hermione, at least, did not hear a word.
She tried again. "Monica - I know you must be very upset, and I totally understand you. You are absolutely right. But honey, I want you to remember that no matter what, I'm still your mother and I love you more than anything. Let's talk."
No comment from Monica.
Hermione tried again. "Please?"
Still no answer.
"Mon, don't do this to me," she pleaded.
When she still couldn't hear anything, she gave up. "Monica, listen to me," she raised her voice, "if you don't open the door this instant, I will open it myself! I'm giving you three seconds to answer - one - " she drew out her wand - "two - three - Alohomora!"
The door cracked open, and Hermione was surprised to see the darkness inside. She stepped in, turned on the lights, and had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
Monica was gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was almost eleven-thirty P.M., but no one was asleep in the McKay's house when the doorbell rang. After all, it was the first day of Christmas break.
"Robin, get the door, please," cried Mrs. McKay.
"All right, Mom," answered Robin as he walked down the stairs. He went over to the front door, opened it and gasped.
There was Monica Malfoy, the dream-girl of almost every boy in Hogwarts. Her long, blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she was wearing a long, blue winter cloak, on which he could see small snowflakes. She was holding a broomstick - has she flown over here? - and a trunk - why, for heaven's sake? But it was Monica, and as a wet curl fell over her face, he could see she was smiling an embarrassed and a sort of bitter smile.
"M-Monica?!" he choked. "What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you, too," she said mischievously, and Robin's heart was suddenly filled with warmth. He smiled back. "Hi."
"So," she said, "what's up?"
That was a very relevant question, thought Robin to himself. "I'm fine," he said, "how about you?"
"I'm a bit cold," she replied.
"Well, come on in," he invited her.
Monica picked up her trunk and stepped inside into the house.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: I'm so sorry I don't write longer chapters... I promise to keep trying... I'm just busier than ever... :-(
Burgundyred: Thank you! Oh, and by the way, I know the British spell it Mum, not Mom, but I'm not British... I'm not American, too, but my English is more American and so are my stories. I can't change my style... :-S