Down The Rabbit Hole

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Glee. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Two

A fortnight after she'd started at William McKinley High, Hadley still hadn't found a solution to the school's bullying issue. She'd joined the soccer and debating teams though, and her friendship with Sam had become something more solid than the awkward foundation of strangers. They didn't have many specific interests in common, but they both enjoyed music, movies, and athletics, and it seemed to be enough for a friendship that could last a while. Sunshine, alternatively, had drifted away from them, and though it was a shame, Hadley had learned that in life, people came and went, and she wasn't about to contest the way the wind blew.

"I made the football team," Sam informed her, and Hadley grinned, pleased for him, "I'm quarterback."

He went on to explain how he'd made the team. Apparently, his competition - a bloke named Finn Hudson - had tried to talk Coach Beiste into allowing a disabled boy onto the team, and had been subsequently kicked out of the trials. Since then, the former captain had auditioned for the cheerleading team with embarrassing results, and Hadley wondered how stupid a person could get in the pursuit of popularity.

"I'm glad for you," she told him, "How about the Glee Club, though? Are you still auditioning for that?"

Sam grimaced, stabbed at his salad, and shrugged halfheartedly. It seemed he wasn't so enthused about the show choir as he had been the week before, and Hadley wondered what had changed. She asked as much, and Sam took a moment to consider his answer.

""I don't want to be treated as more of an outsider than I already am, you know? I mean, these people have known each other forever, and here I am - intruding…"

"I know," Hadley acknowledged, "But I don't know. I don't think fitting in would be worth it, if the people who you want to fit in with couldn't accept you for who you are."

Inwardly, she marvelled over her own hypocrisy, and conceded to herself that talk was cheap. She wondered when she'd become this person, content to dispense a spiel of pretty words, but not bold enough to act on her own advice. She'd never been particularly proud of her behaviour at Hogwarts, the fools rush in approach a complete contradiction to everything she'd practised in her time on Privet Drive; but in saying that, there was something to be said about courage in the face of adversity.

It seemed, however, that with the loss of her Gryffindor blazer, she'd lost her courage too..

Appetite lost with that thought, Hadley pushed her lunch aside, carted a hand through her auburn hair, and asked herself what the hell she was doing. She'd begun to conform herself into the role expected of her - again - just to avoid vilification from the peers she'd told herself not to give a damn about. She was once again pretending to be someone she wasn't to satisfy others, and she asked herself: why?

These strangers had done nothing for her.

And yet, when she opened her mouth to speak, words failed her, and Hadley was uncertain of what she wanted to say anyway. So she said nothing, clamped her mouth shut, and glanced at her watch as the school bell sounded. She had English and Gym before she could go home, but all Hadley really wanted to do was to curl up in bed, and to try and work out the girl she was, and to work out the girl she wanted to be.

Was she too young for an identity crisis?

Did they even exist?

"I'll catch you later, Hadley." After a Navi translation of the same words, Sam excused himself from the table with a gallant bow and headed for class.

After a chuckle to herself at his actions, Hadley followed suit, her afternoon of classes passed, and she settled in the passenger seat of her godfather's Audi, lost in her thoughts. They were headed to Dayton to pick up Remus, but Hadley's mind was on her revelations from lunch, and she struggled to muster up the appropriate enthusiasm for their reunion with her favourite were.

"What's on your mind?" Sirius queried. He'd had to raise his voice to be heard over his third repetition of Crunchy Granola Suite, but the man didn't seem at all inclined to turn down the volume.

Hadley shrugged, gaze on the scenery outside her window. She wasn't one for heart to hearts, and even if she was, Hadley wasn't certain she could vocalise what troubled her. All she really understood was that somewhere along the way, she'd lost a part of herself, and she was uncertain of whether or not she could get it back.

Did she even want to?

In any case, Hadley wasn't one for conversation. As a child, she'd been told to sit down and shut up, and eventually, the silence had become second nature. Instead, she'd learned to observe, to wait and watch, and to read people in ways most others didn't care to bother with. She danced and she drew on occasion, she sang, she played her sports and did well in school, but in other ways, she blended into the background, became an observant wallflower, and Hadley was happy with that.`

"I think you pull off the broody look better than I do," Sirius observed glibly.

"I'm fifteen," she answered flippantly, "It comes with the territory."

"Touche."

They picked up Remus without incident, and the drive back to Lima was similarly uneventful. Remus spent it regaling them with stories regarding his trip to Italy and back, and Hadley listened with a small, content smile on her face. Despite her internal conflict, she was happy to see Remus home again, and just as content to listen to his stories of misadventures with Italian to pass the time.

At home, however, as Sirius excused himself to order pizza, and a jet lagged Remus settled down for a nap before dinner, Hadley retreated into her bedroom, flicked on her iPod dock, and hummed along to the Goo Goo Dolls as she made herself comfortable. She'd opted to convert the attic into a loft-style bedroom, and as she settled herself on her bed, Hadley appreciated the solitude her room provided. It was separate from the rest of the house, and particularly, Sirius' crazy, and best of all, it was singularly hers. There was no used furniture, or old trinkets, and she'd been able to decorate it to her heart's content.

With a thoughtful hum, Hadley clambered into bed with her laptop, logged into her Facebook account, and had to laugh at the friend requests awaiting her. The Hogwarts students seemed to have taken distinct advantage of the Japanese technomancy inadvertently introduced to them by Hermione, and on top of the new classmates she'd met, she was also inundated by friend requests from her former peers as well. On top of peers from primary school, old and new dance classes, and the people she'd met on her summer holidays, her friends list had grown exponentially, but the number gave her no answers.

The song switched to Gwen Stefani, and the heavy beat of 'Hollaback Girl' was tempting to dance to. Hadley sang along, and before she really knew it, she'd descended the ladder to her loft, happy to improvise a dance routine until the song had come to a close. She had a smile on her face when she was done, carefree and exhilarated, and Hadley had forgotten how much fun dancing - just for the sake of it - could be.

As she moved to ascend the ladder again, Sirius' voice crackled through the intercom system with word that their dinner had arrived. She retraced her steps through the house, found herself in the kitchen, and made herself comfortable at the island. Remus was already there, mindlessly chowing down on a slice of meatlovers, and Hadley smiled to herself. She didn't think she could ever take this feeling of family for granted. It was so very different from Privet Drive, where everything had been disgustingly fake, from Vernon and Petunia's affections, from Dudley's good boy attitude, from their perfect little family that had all the neighbours fooled. The contradiction was welcome, however, and Hadley imagined that after nearly a year with Remus and Sirius, she would never be able to go back to her rigid, inflexible existence in Little Whinging.

"Two supreme, one ham and pineapple." Sirius deposited a plate in front of Hadley, offered her a bottle of water, and helped himself to his own serving. "How are you feeling now? Something still bothering you?"

Hadley sighed, picked at the olive pieces on her pizza, and shrugged. Sometime during her impromptu dance session, she'd made the subconscious decision not to think about school, and her place in it,and she had instead opted to let her cards fall where they would. She was irked that Sirius had brought it up, because now Remus was concerned as well, and Hadley hadn't looked forward to an inquisition.

"What's the matter?" Remus asked. He flicked his gaze between Sirius and Hadley, the former shrugged cluelessly, and the latter rolled her eyes.

"Nothing."

Neither bought that, but they'd dropped the issue, and Hadley ate the rest of her dinner in peace. She cleaned the kitchen afterwards, a routine from Privet Drive she couldn't shake, and retreated into the living room with thoughts of 'Family Guy' to pass the time.

"Don't you have homework to do?"

Hadley looked at her godfather, shrugged, and considered lying. Padfoot, however, and Moony as well, could sniff out fibs like bloodhounds, and Hadley figured it wasn't worth the lecture from Remus. Therefore, she switched off the television with a reluctant groan, retreated to her bedroom, and settled down to the afore-mentioned study with a grimace. It was a far cry from the magical homework that had interested her so much, but Hadley was an overachiever if nothing else, and the lack of interest didn't mean she'd let herself fail. She'd spent so much of her childhood suppressing herself, that ever since she'd begun at Hogwarts, she'd strove to do the best she could in everything she tried. That hadn't changed due to the change in lifestyle and scenery.

Hadley was, however, distracted by an IM pop-up. It was from Sam, and his words left a heavy feeling in her chest. Guilt, or shame, or maybe even pride, she couldn't determine, but either way, it left her breathless, and her hands trembling.

I don't think popularity is worth pretending to be someone I'm not. I joined the Glee Club this afternoon.

Her reply was short, because despite herself, Hadley had know idea what to say. She'd more or less encouraged him to join, to do what he wanted regardless of social conventions, but in the face of his courage, she was speechless and so very, very envious.

Good for you.

As she worked on her homework, and spoke with Sam about inconsequential things, Hadley's mind returned to the question of personal identity, and the girl asked herself: who was she?

Once again, Hadley came to the conclusion that she didn't have a clue. If nothing else, however, Hadley knew she'd eventually find out.