Rating: G
Pairing: None
Characters: Michael Corner
Summary: Michael's awakened from a terrible plot which had him doing awful things to his friends. He has no idea how he's going to deal with it.
He was still in a bit of a daze. Of course, Michael hadn't awakened that long ago, so nothing had quite caught up with him yet. At first, he was sure it was a dream, because there wasn't any way he had said and done those things. It just wasn't him!
But it seemed so real in his memory. Sure, he'd had dreams like that before, where he woke up and everything seemed so present and alive, but the reality of them would always fade as time went on. This time... This time things were becoming clearer. It was as if each step he took down the stairs toward the common room served to dust away the cobwebs that were preventing him from accessing those memories. There were things he'd said to the members of his house - Terry and Anthony, especially - Stella, too. Mackenzie? No, he didn't remember verbally attacking her. There were the younger students, some of which had ended up hexed, and also Daphne from Slytherin.
He counted them all off. It was a hefty list of apologies he'd have to make.
The main question was, what had gone wrong? He'd been so out of sorts through the past week... Almost evil, he thought to himself as he stepped into the common room. For a split second, about a dozen pairs of eyes looked in his direction, and then a whole group of third-year Ravenclaws took off running. Running away from him. Yesterday, he would have laughed, but today, Michael Corner just felt horribly ill. It had to have been some kind of spell... He wouldn't have just turned on his friends like that. On his house! He certainly wouldn't have hero-worshiped Malfoy and Potter... The thought of that just served to aggravate his already unsettled stomach. Flopping down on the couch, he closed his eyes, trying to visualize it. Trying to understand.
The lack of control he'd had was maddening. He couldn't even begin to fathom what had prompted those hateful words to Terry. There was no way he'd said what he had to Anthony or Stella. And Cho! What in the name of Merlin was he going to say to his girlfriend? Remembering something, he reached up to his face, gently touching the bruise that still smarted there. If anything, the painful reminder of Anthony and Terry's anger was enough to convince the young wizard that he had, indeed, been rather not himself.
What about the hexing? Judging by the way the now terrified underclassmen were watching him, Michael had done that, too. There was a little boy standing behind the rest which Michael remembered particularly well, since he'd caused the boy's ears to turn into that of a goat's at one point. He couldn't have been older than a first year, either, which made it all the worse. The boy couldn't have even defended himself.
Then, of course, there was Daphne. She was the only girl he'd hexed, and the Ravenclaw soundly believed that she'd deserved that silencing charm. Not anymore, though. What the hell was he going to say to her?
Leaning back on the couch, Michael closed his eyes. What a great big mess this was, and what a long time it'll take to sort out. Right now, he thoughts weren't even on who'd done it, but how he himself was going to make up for it. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up tossed out of his House. Maybe he could go to Slytherin; he seemed to have the deep-rooted mentality for it.
Suddenly, he felt a thud next to him on the couch. Opening dark eyes, he glanced over to see a girl sitting as far as she could away from him. Michael again estimated the young witch to be a first-year. He didn't remember saying anything to her, though. In fact, he didn't even recognize her. He wasn't really like Anthony, after all... The Prefect seemed to be able to remember everyone's name. As he continued staring, the girl continued looking markedly uncomfortable, until Michael finally asked, "...What do you want?"
She jumped a little, and it almost seemed like she was going to run away. Then she glanced over at a group of younger students sitting in an alcove not too far away. A couple of them were glancing up now and again, but she wasn't getting any help from them. Finally, she seemed to work up the courage to speak. "D-- don't h-- hex me. Please. They just wanted t-- to see if I'd-- come over here..."
Michael's brow furrowed at the fear he detected in the girl's voice. She was being dared to come over here and sit next to him? What kind of lame challenge was that? Right... Right. He got it. See if you can survive sitting next to evil, terrible, vengeful Corner. It was a game! "Well, you're here. I suppose you can go now." He closed his eyes, leaning back again.
She didn't leave. Michael opened his eyes and looked at her again. For a moment, it seemed like she was about to die right there on the spot. Then, the terror melted into an expression of confusion. "...Well, you don't seem so bad," she said.
"Not anymore," the sixth-year stated dryly. He noted with a great deal of annoyance that the girl still looked confused. "Look. Something happened. I'm better now." As an afterthought, he added, "...I think."
She didn't leave. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. She jumped about a foot.
"It h-- hasn't... been f-- five m--minutes yet, Sir."
How bad could he have possibly been? It seemed like he'd gone to bed one night, and woke up the next just fine... But he knew there to be a whole week in there where he'd pretty much become the Terror of Ravenclaw. What a blur! He remembered everything that happened, of course... Quite clearly, in fact. But he couldn't shake the feeling that it hadn't actually been a dream. There was proof all around him that it hadn't been... The only one in his vicinity was this girl, who seemed to be waiting for her five-minute dare to be up so she could run away. Everyone else stood at a distance and tried to pretend he wasn't there, while, Michael noticed, casting looks over their shoulders now and again to make sure he wasn't attacking.
Sighing, the boy looked into the dark fireplace. Maybe, he reasoned, if he continued talking to her, she'd just get up and leave. Then he could sit here and think in peace like he wanted to. "What's your name?" he inquired.
This was about the last question the girl expected Michael to ask, and so she didn't even have time to be properly afraid before she answered, "Amy."
"Well, Amy. I'm Michael. What year are you?"
"Th-- they said your name was Crabby Corner." She looked horrified as soon as the words left her mouth, and tried to back right through the arm of the couch. Michael noticed a few of her friends look-but-not-look at her as she tried to salvage her answer. "...M' a first year, Sir."
He forced a smile, watching as his two best friends came down from the dormitory. He tried to catch their attention, but while Terry threw a rather panicked glance in Michael's direction, neither of them remained long. Before he could call to them, they'd already climbed through the portrait and into the corridor outside the Common Room. This wasn't fun in the least. "Classes going alright?" he questioned Amy. She nodded, still staring at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. "Good. Mine, too. I think it's been five minutes, if you want to go." Fully expecting her to take off, he rested his head back on the couch again. It was time to think about what the hell he was going to do about this mess. How could he apologize to everyone, really? How...
She didn't leave! He didn't notice it at first, but the couch didn't move, and there were no steps of a panicked student running off. As a rule, Michael tended to avoid the younger students because he just couldn't get them. Was he ever this bad? He figured he must have been in some way, though he couldn't possibly fathom why she'd be so anxious to leave and so willing to stay at the same time. When he looked back at her, she was smiling. He couldn't help but ask, "What?"
"Was it a spell?" she wondered.
After a moment's consideration, Michael nodded. "I think so, yeah."
"Tracy Morgan said it was a spell. She's a third year. She's really smart."
Michael, of course, had no idea where this was going. It was his turn to be confused. "Why do you look so happy, then?"
"My parents were Muggles, Sir--"
"Michael."
She nodded. "Sir. I've never really seen spells like that before, that can make a person all evil like that."
He felt his eye twitch. This wasn't something he wanted to discuss with a first-year. And yet the fact that he couldn't snap at her or face undoing any reparations he'd managed so far was weighing heavy. He decided to do the easy thing and frown. That would show her. ...But she was still smiling. Creepy kid...
"Anyway, I guess it was really neat seein' that even though you were all 'RAR' and stuff." She shrugged, looking back over to her friends, who were now making no secret of staring in their general direction. "I guess you got lots of apologizing to do, huh?"
He nodded, and despite himself, he said, "I do. And I don't know where to start. So if you could just..."
"You can start with me," Amy interrupted. It wasn't unkind.
It was Michael's turn now, to be caught off guard by the statement, and he really didn't know how to reply. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "...Sorry?"
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" She stood up, considerably more at ease than she'd been when she sat down. Most likely, it had a lot to do with relief... She wasn't going to walk away hexed, and that was a big plus.
"Well, no. But I hardly even know you." He didn't intend to sound mean, but that's how it came out. The girl frowned a bit, but it seemed more out of thought than anything else. He quickly amended, "...I have a lot of close friends that... Well."
"Yeah," she said. "But now you've started. Nothing worth doing is ever easy. That's what my dad said."
Michael smiled a bit. "Smart man."
Amy shrugged, looking back over her shoulder at the others. She looked as if she wanted to get back now. "Anyway, you've started. That's all you have to do. I hope everything gets better and you can stop sitting on the couch being sad." That said, Amy didn't waste anymore time retreating from Ground Zero and back over to her friends.
While that certainly wasn't the strangest thing he'd ever seen, Michael had to admit it was pretty close. Still...
He supposed it was time to get to work.
