Splinched

The Life and Times of Tracey Davis

Chapter Two

By Granny Adams

My sister, Allison, is ten years old. Yet somehow, she is far more emotionally advanced than I was at age thirteen. I'm not quite sure how it happened, as she and I are extremely similar. She is the spitting image of me at ten, with a few variations. We have the same figure. She has smaller eyes than I do, and her chin is wider. I think she's lovely, but she doesn't really seem to think so. The odd part is that she doesn't mind thinking of herself as plain. She's perfectly content with herself- something hard for me to grasp.

Another deviation between her and I is that she, unlike me, is quite graceful and excels at ballet. Because of our body-types, we were both trained from our tender years in ballet. I was awkward and gawky, I couldn't do a split and I couldn't pirouette. My mother was heartbroken; she had always wanted to be a ballerina herself. Instead, she instilled in me her sense of fashion and ladylike behavior. When my sister was born, she had little hope for her second daughter, but was pleasantly surprised when my sister showed an innate ability where I had failed.

In the coming year, my sister would join me here at school. Mother expected that she kept up with her flexibility and strength whilst she was here. Her summers would be spent in intensive Pointe classes. I was to make certain that she did what mother wanted of her. I had really wondered how she'd fare once she arrived and how she'd react to my insistence that she follows mother's demands. If she turns out anything like me, the idea of being granted a new freedom and then having it stolen away must've been unbearable.

"Tracey," A female voice called from behind me. I had almost made it though the common room without being bothered, but obviously that was too much to ask. I reluctantly turned, putting on a false smile. It was Pansy. Apparently, she and Draco had detached from each other, but I attributed this to the fact that the Girl's and Boy's dormitories were on the opposite sides of the room. As a matter of fact, I could see him eyeing Pansy's arse triumphantly from across the room. Honestly.

"You really hurried out of the Great Hall, why didn't you wait for me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. I brushed the hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ears.

"I didn't want to get caught in the crowd, that's all," I replied honestly. Pansy looked at me as though she knew that she had caught me in a lie. She always acted as though she knew me better than I knew myself. It was extremely infuriating, but oftentimes eerily accurate.

"Oh, I see," She raised her perfectly groomed eyebrows, "I thought you were running after Daphne," She laughed, "But I suppose that it was just my imagination." I shrugged.

"An innocent mistake," I said, smiling. If my expressions were to reflect my true feelings, it certainly wouldn't have been a smile; perhaps it might've been closer to a snarl. But then again, I wouldn't want to get on Pansy's bad side.

"I did see you talking to Theodore Nott, however. That was real, wasn't it?" She asked, looking a little more earnest.

"Yes, I was. He asked me how my summer was," I told her, folding my arms. After so many years of practically idolizing the girl, I could read her like a book. It was obvious that she was insinuating- a skill of hers almost unrivaled.

"Did you know that he and Millicent Bulstrode are dating?" She asked, sliding into that tone she takes whenever she gossips. I furrowed my eyebrows. She had to be joking, right?

"Really?" I asked, trying to keep my voice pleasant. This information altered my entire view of the universe. Theodore Nott, the suave boy with a secret dating Millicent Bulstrode, the plain jane- Wha? What was the world coming to? How could this have possibly happened under my very nose? What could this mean?

"Yes, really!" She said quickly, "Urquhart told me this morning-" She suddenly stopped speaking as Millicent Bulstrode passed by. She gave us a furtive, yet condemning glance and then continued on her way to the dorm.

She seemed so unworthy of a gentleman such as Theodore. He was from one of the finest families in Britain. Apparently, she descended from a well-known ancestry in Russia. Probably from a better family than I; The Davis' would be considered 'new money'. But she was still Millicent Bulstrode, the girl who only spoke in grunts until the fourth year except to coo and cuddle her cat! This was the girl who rarely wore any other clothing besides her school robes!

We both watched as she disappeared, but I wasn't able to tear myself away before Pansy started talking again. "So anyway. Gregor told me that someone he knows found a love letter from Theodore to Millicent that Millicent had been left in the common room!"

"Hm," I said indecisively, looking back to Pansy. It wasn't a credible piece of information, but it did explain a lot. For example, Millicent generally remained silent (unless provoked) but in a sort of menacing way. To be completely honest, I was afraid of Millicent for the first few years of school- after she threatened to sit on me, that is.

More recently, she had an aura of contentment surrounding her as she walked around, it was in the way she held herself. Also, when a first year stepped on her toe on the second day of classes, she didn't lash out at them like she normally would. It would also explain the poor excuse for lipstick she was wearing at supper... Good god, could this actually be true?

"All you have to say is hm? I thought you would find it a little more interesting," Pansy said, acting as if my response was utterly boring to her.

"I do-" I said hastily, "It seems as though it isn't the entire truth, though. Do you really believe that they're dating?"

"I don't know, but that's what's been going around," She paused and leaned towards me conspiratorially, "Also what's been going around is that Adrian Pucey has a bit of a thing for you." For a moment, I stood motionless- I simply didn't know how to react. When you're told that someone fancies you, it's as if you've been hit by a stunning charm- especially if that someone is a person whom you've barely spoken five words to.

"Oh?" I said, looking away for a moment, attempting to regain my composure, "Where'd you hear a thing like that?"

"From Daphne," She said, watching for my reaction. I uncrossed my arms to smooth out my skirt. Why would Daphne tell her that? I was sure that's what she wanted me to ask. I refused to take the bait. More insinuation of course.

"I don't think so," I said resolutely, with nothing further to add.

"Alright, then," Pansy said, bored again.

"Well, I wouldn't really know," I exhaled deeply, "Perhaps he does. Anyway, I'm going to the dorm." I began to walk away, but stopped when I noticed that Pansy wasn't following. "Aren't you coming?" I asked. She was looking across the common room wistfully.

"No," She replied, "I'll catch up with you later." I turned and walked through the door. I stopped before I descended the stairs, looking over my shoulder at Pansy. Now that I had gone, she didn't hold herself the same way. She looked slightly awkward and small, not at all what she'd like herself to be viewed as. I stopped for a moment, still watching her as she shifted her weight, craning her neck to have a better look at the other side of the common room.

'To look almost pretty is an acquisition of higher delight to a girl who has been looking plain for the first fifteen years of her life than a beauty from her cradle can ever receive.'

Lost her touch, indeed. I continued down the stairs, hoping that I wouldn't be alone with Daphne in the dorm. But, oh, no I wouldn't be alone. Millicent was down there too! Simply marvelous! The irony of it all nearly killed me, but luckily I made it to my dorm alive.

-

I had thought that living in close quarters with Daphne would be more or less painless, despite our conflict. I was, of course, incredibly wrong and naïve to think that. We have certain personalities that, when in a conflict, make things really difficult for each other. I found it incredibly uncomfortable and deafening to remain in the same room with her, if only to complete a trivial task.

It was almost like being in love; when she entered a room, it was as if my entire body could feel her presence. So when I finally found myself at the door dormitory, I knew instantly that she was inside.

I took a swift breath before going inside the dorm. Turning the doorknob slowly, I let the door swing open as softly and noiselessly as I could. I didn't want to bring attention to myself, especially after I had just had a nice gossip session about the two people that were inside. The door was ajar, and I stood frozen in the doorway. The second that I had opened the door, Millicent and Daphne looked up from whatever they had been doing the moment before. Of course, as soon as she had glanced up, Daphne's attention went right back to the piece of parchment on her lap, as if I wasn't even standing there. Millicent took a bit longer to assess my existence before she looked away again. I felt the familiar wrenching sensation in my stomach as I walked past Daphne's bed to reach mine.

As I bent over at my bedside table to look at my reflection in the small mirror I kept there, I heard the curtains of Daphne's bed being hurriedly drawn. I looked back to see if Daphne's curtains were indeed closed and instead found Millicent's gaze. She must've known that Pansy and I were talking about her, judging from that cold stare. I looked back to my mirror as soon as our eyes met; an action that must've set my guilt in stone. If the entire year was to be like this, I really didn't know how I would endure. Disregarding the fact that I was still wearing my full uniform, shoes and all, I climbed into my bed and closed the curtains, isolating me from a dormitory that clearly loathed me.

It was apparent that I was going about things in a wrong way, considering how I had created two new foes in the one week- possibly three if I had interpreted Pansy's insinuations correctly. There seemed to be two options: Either I changed my ways, whatever they had been or I would end that term completely friendless and lonely. Or, I considered, therewas always the choice of making new friends. That might be worth a week of my time. Who could I possibly befriend in a week? The impossibility of the situation almost deterred me, but then I thought about my current associates. It simply had to be done.

New friends, or certain death.

(Just to give proper credit, the quote in italics near the end is by Jane Austen. REVIEW PLZ)