Chapter 7: Friends

Teddy

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I'm getting better. I'm opening up, and it scares the hell out of me. I want to make friends, I want to trust people, but I don't know if I can. What happens when someone shows me the reason I was closed in the first place? I don't want to be the loner. I don't want to have no friends, especially now that I have one, but I'm afraid. Fear is weakness, and I can't be weak. I have to dive into this head on. I'm going to try.

The week after our detention passes without event. Class, homework, and the endless cycle of annoyances are all the fills my life at Hogwarts. One thing is different this week, however. I'm supposed to join Mark in the Great Hall this Saturday for a few games of Wizard's Chess. I'm not exactly sure why I agreed to do this, I hate Wizard's Chess, but I suppose it may be more fun with a friend.

We meet for lunch. As I walk down, a feeling of dread fills me. What if he brings Jones and Kathryn? I'm pretty sure they hate me. God, this is going to suck. But then, I see him, alone.

"Hey," I say sitting next to him and grabbing a sandwich from the tray in front of me.

"Hey," he replies smiling. Is the smile genuine? Is someone actually happy to see me? "How were classes for you this week?"

"As advertised, they were boring and homework filled. I'm not a huge fan of classes."

"I can understand. Sometimes it can just be too much. We got quite a bit of homework. Jones and Kathryn are stuck in the common room trying to get it done. I probably should have joined them, but we had plans."

"Oh, sorry. I wouldn't want to distract you." Great he didn't even want to be here.

"No, I needed the excuse. I'd much rather hand out with a friend then do homework anyway. I can get it done later." Wow. He considers me his friend. I don't think anyone has ever said that about me.

We chat about Quidditch, teachers, and our workload as we finish our lunch and pull out the chess set.

"I have to warn you," he says with a smirk, "I'm as good at this as I am at Quidditch."

"Guess you suck then," I joke. Instantly, I regret it. Way to offend the one friend you have. Then, to my surprise, he laughs.

"Ouch, man. I suppose you did beat me at detention."

"Well, you'll beat me at this. I pretty much suck. Whenever I play at Christmas with the Weasleys I always lose pathetically."

"I hear they're pretty good, so maybe you won't."

"True. Of course it's the only thing they're good at so…"

"You're a little harsh. You and Jones should get along fine."

"Really," I hesitate, slightly afraid to take the conversation in a deeper direction, "I'm pretty sure he hates me."

Mark pauses for quite some time, just short of being awkward. I think he knew I was right. "He doesn't hate you. He just…" again he pauses, searching for the right words. "Jones is very closed off. He judges people so quickly and harshly, and then he just shuts them out." Ring any bells? "You two have so much in common, though. You both have the same sense of humor. You should try to befriend him."

"I don't think he'll be interested."

"I think you'll be surprised. Why don't the three of us study on the grounds next week? It'll give you two a chance to talk."

So, I'm going to try. I'm going to take risks. Here goes a big one. "Ok, sounds like fun."

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The week is punctuated by the start of Quidditch practice and excuses to cancel on Mark and Jones. The Gryffindor team starts strong; we have a great team this year. Our captain and Seeker, Jennifer Billingsly chose two pretty great chasers to replace those who left, Harry Fletcher and Victoire Weasley. The idea of having Victoire on the team is a little upsetting because she can be annoying, but she plays really well for a second year. I have high hopes for this season, and can't wait for our first game against Slytherin.

Meanwhile, I'm constantly trying to convince myself that this study party bull is going to be a disaster. Numerous times throughout the week, I come up with another reason not to go, but I always tell myself that it will be fine. I have to put my neck out there if I want to have friends.

On Friday, at practice, Jen asks me if I can come in to give Victoire and Harry some practice. "If you can't I totally understand. It is last minute." Here it is, the perfect excuse. If I want out, now's the time.

"Um, can we do it in the evening? I have plans that afternoon." No turning back now.

"Ok, sure! See you just after dinner." Here goes.

The next day, I make my way to the tree I'm supposed to meet Jones and Mark by. Now that I've decided to go, I'm actually kind of happy to be going. Jones won't get too annoying with Mark there. My plans, however, are crushed when I see Jones sitting alone at a bench by the tree.

"Hey Teddy." He says with disdain evident in his voice.

"Where's Mark?" This is rapidly going wrong.

"He said something came up suddenly with Kathryn. I suspect it was a lie to make us talk to each other."

"Oh, well I suppose we better get to work." I am determined to stay positive about this, a difficult feat for me. This is a blessing in disguise. I notice he has his DADA book on his lap. "Oh, you're going to study defense? That's cool. I love that class. If you need any help, let me know. I got full marks…"

"I don't want or need your help." Whoa. A little harsh, buddy?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just good at that class."

"I'm sure your blessed godfather gives you full marks all the time, but that doesn't make you good at it." Hell no. I won't let him insult my intelligence or my family.

"Bollocks! I earn my grade and Harry would never play favorites like that."

"Have you met him? He's all about family and house politics. Two things you share with him." I feel myself tense with anger. Hold it back, Teddy, don't do anything stupid.

"Shut up," I seethe, "You have no bloody idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah I do. Everyone feels sorry for you and your daddy issues, but I see right through that shit to the nasty, angry little boy who just needs to grow up." In a flash, I grab his collar. I'm about to swing when I realize what I'm doing. Reluctantly, I loosen my grip. Jones pushes away from me and grabs his stuff. "Told you." I almost want to hit him again, but I let him walk away. As he does, he says exactly what I am thinking. "I knew this was a mistake."

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Mark approaches me at lunch on Monday. "Sorry about that," he says before I address him. I wonder if he is really. "Jones can be a total jerk sometimes."

"What were you and Kathryn doing?"

"Actually, we were just studying in the common room. I figured you and Jones would…"

"Come to dislike each other more if that's even possible?"

"Yeah, I sort of screwed up there, but he'll come around. Trust me." Jones stop being a dick? Not bloody likely.

"Ok, sure." I see in his face that he knows I'm upset. "Hey, Master Langely is trying a new thing where he lets students sign up to play informal Quidditch games on the weekends. Do you want to go play this weekend?"

"Will Jones be there?" I reply quickly.

"Well, I think it would be best if he wasn't."

"Okay, cool. See you then." Unlike last week, I'm excited about this. I love Quidditch, and Mark and I have a chance to play together. The week is almost Quidditch themed. When I'm not at practice, I'm thinking about the upcoming game. Saturday doesn't come fast enough.

When it does, I grab my gear and head for the pitch. A bit of a crowd has gathered to idly watch the game. I feel the familiar rush of adrenaline that I always get before a game. I spot Mark inside, alone as promised. "Hey!" I call.

"Hey," he replies walking over, "I figured you'd want to play keeper like normal, so that's what I signed you up for. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, whatever's cool." Soon, Master Langely strides onto the field carrying a broom and the box of balls.

"Ok, kids," he yells, "Those of you not playing please have a seat in the stands, and I'll give the teams a minute to strategize."

We have a pretty even group of house players and people playing for fun. I have mixed feelings when I find out that Slytherin Captain James Grayson and his best friend, the Slytherin seeker Gregorio Hager, are on our team, but I push it aside. When we mount, I get a good look at the other team. I smirk as I see they have only two house players to our four.

The game goes as expected. We take an early lead and I let only two Quaffles by. Before I know it, Hager has caught the snitch and the game is over with a score of 170-20. I meet Mark back in the changing room afterwards. "Great game," I say.

"You too," he responds with a smile, "do you want to go watch the next one?"

"Sure," I say. We make our way to part of the stands. It takes me a minute to realize that Mark is looking for someone. I glance around the stands, and I spot her, Kathryn McNeil. Great, now I have to deal with her. Mark spots her and motions me to follow him. Well maybe this will be okay. I should hope for the best, right?

Mark slides in next to her, and I reluctantly sit on his other side. I pay little attention to them as the game goes on. The next group is almost entirely non-players, and the game is a lot more evenly matched. The seekers seem hopeless, but the Chasers are actually quite good. I notice some pretty impressive plays I think of suggesting at practice later in the week.

"I'll be right back," Mark says suddenly. I realize it may have not been sudden; I just hadn't been paying attention. He slides out without saying where he's going. I am alone with Kathryn. Part of me screams to just remain silent, at least not to instigate any conversation. But then I remember my personal pact. I am going to try and make friends.

"Nice game, huh?" I say hesitantly.

She puts down here book, which is surprisingly Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, "Why are you talking to me?" Okay, not what I was expecting.

"I was being courteous?"

"Well I don't need your courtesy. You don't like me, and I don't like you." Well, now I know where we stand.

I breathe, attempting to stay calm. "So, we had a bit of a bad incident on the train. Can't we put that behind us?"

"No. People don't change."

"Kathryn, come on," Mark's voice says from behind me.

"What, Mark, I'm just being honest," she replies turning back to her book.

"I asked you to be nice." Um, what? What am I your charity case?

"I don't need you to tell people how to treat me," I say without meaning to. Well now that I'm started, "I can take care of myself, Mark. I have to go." Fuming I leave the pitch. How dare he try and make people be my friend. I'm not that desperate.

Frustrated I make my way back to the dorm. I flop on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Is Mark really my friend? Maybe he just pretends because he feels sorry for me. Maybe Jones is right. Everyone pities the poor orphan. Well, screw them. I don't need their pity. Maybe friends aren't exactly as advertised.

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I intentionally avoid him for the next week. I'm furious. How could he act like I was so helpless? Classes are a blur as usual. I'm back to the angry depression. I hate it. I am looking forward to the alone time this weekend. Last class Friday is unfortunately Charms, but I know I can make it.

Time moves slower than I thought possible. I'm finding myself thinking seconds are too long. When finally, class is over. The weekend is here. I stand to leave the class when I hear something that cannot be good. "Mr. Tonks, can I talk to you for a moment."

I reluctantly sigh and approach Professor Mulligan's desk. She watches the door and waits for everyone to leave.

"I need to discuss a new stricter policy being enforced for Quidditch players. Professor Bane has made it very clear that she expects academics to come before involvement in sports teams."

This sounded awful, "Ok."

"Well, I've noticed that your grades have taken a turn these past few weeks, and well, if this trend is continued, you're going to be removed from the Quidditch team." Are you kidding? Is it the year of threatening to take away Quidditch?

"Fine." I turn to leave, angrier than I've been all week.

"I'm not joking here Mr. Tonks."

"I'm fully aware of that." I leave before she can reprimand me for disrespect. I storm towards the common room. This is stupid. Why can't these people just leave me alone! Maybe part of me doesn't want them too.

I round a corner and run straight into Victoire and Fred. Two people I really don't want to see right now. For all intents and purposes, they're like annoying kid cousins who won't leave me alone.

"Oh, hey Teddy, going to practice?" Victoire says in her normal cheerful voice. Is it bad that I can't stand her because her parents lived?

"I think the team's going to be really great this year. As long as Slytherin doesn't win the house cup again," Fred adds with a smile. How can these two be so bloody happy all of the time! Are these the only real friends I have? Am I doomed to only associating with these people for the rest of my life? Is that better than being screwed over by someone I thought was a friend?

"I have to get some stuff before practice." I lie, "see you in a little bit?"

"Ok, cool," Victoire says and we separate. I continue toward the common room, and am surprised by how few people I see. I climb a staircase and finally run into someone, and it's one of the worst people I could run into.

Linor Grayson is sitting by a window scribbling something on to a piece of parchment. I continue down the hall, determined to ignore her, but she hears me and looks up. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

"Walking. Last time I checked you didn't own this hallway." I continue.

"Why are you such a jerk to everyone?"

"And you're one to talk? Miss bitch of the universe."

"You have a point, not even my own brother wants to talk to me." I notice that she's been crying. Instantly the situation becomes much more awkward. She looks so pretty when she's vulnerable. Wait a minute, what am I thinking?

"I'm sure you'll work it out. I wouldn't actually know as I have no siblings of my own, but I think that's how it works." Why is it easy to talk to her?

"That's right Mommy and Daddy died before they could procreate again. Sorry about that." Coming from another mouth, I'd be pissed. For her, though, I just accept it. Maybe this is what friendship is like.

"I heard about your dad." I say instantly regretting it, now this conversation will likely turn ugly.

"I did too. You're so lucky."

"What?"

"Your Dad was dead before you really even knew him. There's no real memories. You're not really missing him. You didn't have to say goodbye." I'm floored. I'd never thought about it like that at all. "Why the hell am I spilling my guts to the guy who broke my nose?"

"I guess sometimes, it's strange who you can actually trust." I'm not conscious of my brain forming the words.

"I don't trust you." She leaves without looking back. I can tell how desperate she was to get out before she got too far in. I felt the urge too, but I fought it. You never know who you'll become friends with. You never know who you have things in common with. I think I can be her friend, and it scares the hell out of me. But I'm going to try.