Today's not going too well, on my part. I woke up late meaning I was one of the last down to breakfast, which coincidentally means all I had time for was a slice of toast, and I missed lunch trying to finish off my Transfiguration work. I was already failing in that class and I knew I should have done it sooner, but I couldn't put my mind to it.
Lily's on a rampage because she can't find her notes on the Christmas Hogsmeade activities…it doesn't matter if no one follows them, including her. She just has to have them. I managed to escape her after three hours of being suffocated with a harangue on how this was Potter's fault. At times like this, I'd managed to feel sorry for the boy, but that usually ended when he did something like pushing me on his voyage to harass Lily.
I'd slipped on a staircase on my way to Transfiguration. No doubt it was Peeves who did it, bet he was ever so proud, the despicable little poltergeist. And, this obviously meant that I had to be late for lesson. McGonagall was far from pleased, and her lips seemed to thin into non-existence when she saw, and I quote, the 'horrific disarray' my homework was in. She still took it in, and I'm expecting a T – she won't refrain from stamping that on.
Aside from Lily, I have another best friend – Claudia. And she made my life difficult today by dropping it on me that she couldn't tutor me because she has other priorities. Meaning a boy, most probably. So, I had to contact an already displeased McGonagall who assigned someone else.
And this leads me to where I am now…in the library, with books, a stern glare perched on my shoulder from Madam Pince, a sleeping leg, and no tutor. He was supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago, and I can't grasp what I'm supposed to be studying on my own – hence why I need him to help me. Damn that Sirius Black. The only way he's going to get away with ditching me, is if he has an acceptable excuse. A good one. Something like lying half-dead in the Hospital Wing because a bunch of Blast-Ended Skrewts attacked him…down there. I'm partial to him being attacked by a charging Manticore too.
I could fail Transfiguration this year, now. First, Claudia lets me down but I never expected her to make it any way, with her jam-packed schedule, and she wasn't even supposed to be doing it. I just begged her, so I wouldn't have to flail at the hands of McGonagall. She didn't promise me she'd be there, and plus, those 'fingers could be doing so much more than turning a page of a book' – she said that, not me. Second, he doesn't show, and I'm left with a psychotic librarian, who I think is sexually frustrated.
I slumped up the stairs back to the Gryffindor Tower, and mumbled the password, only having to repeat it because the Fat Lady pretends to be bleeding deaf too. She should clean out some of that ear wax then, shouldn't she? Pushing through the portrait, I was welcomed with a mysteriously quiet Common Room. Oh…see, as soon as they distinguish that it's only me, they all start whispering.
I traipse over to my little corner, where Lily's already sitting, obviously reshaping her Hogsmeade notes. I hope she remembers them, otherwise she'll be trying to square some ideas out of me, and I'm not really an ideas type of person. And if I tell her to quit it, she'll kill me. Or, you know, give me detention. Power will exhume that girl one day.
"What's going on?" I asked, dropping into the seat opposite her. She looked up from her page, smiled, and looked back down, jotting something down – Prefect meeting soon, I guess.
"Nothing. Bit of drama on the Idiot's Express. Black plays a prank. Turns out wrong. Almost kills Severus. Potter the Plonker jumps in, and now they're having a lover's tiff. Don't ask why I'm not joining in. Potter hasn't done anything wrong, so I've got nothing to shout for, and Black's already suffering up in his dorm," she said, her tone rather nonchalant.
So, that's where the little pest was.
It was past one when Lily finally finished her notes for her Prefect meeting the next day, or the same day, and Claudia had given us a minute-by-minute encounter of everything that had happened to her that night. And then, they both fell asleep, leaving me here, now, with nothing to do but stare at my ceiling. The thing swirls remind me of McGonagall's lips…and that's why I'm going to go to the Common Room now, to save myself.
The Common Room is my humble abode at night. When I can't sleep, which is every single night, I head down there and mess with stuff that's been left behind. Don't worry, I'm not continuously drained of energy…I have lessons to sleep in, and the times when Claudia is shaking her blonde hair at what he did to her, and what she said to him, I usually manage to doze off then too.
I grab a rubber band and tie back my shoulder-length black hair. It's not my nicest feature, only making my skin look paler, escaping from my ponytail I usually look like a study nerd…especially with the ink usually splattering my cheeks, and I'm rather mid-height, not short enough to be called stumpy…so, my legs make up for it. I do like my legs…they've managed to get me dates in the past.
Getting out of the dorm is the most difficult part of my night-time escapades. I think Lily is like me, with the not sleeping, but I'm fully conscious. Lily's just an amazingly light-sleeper; she is actually asleep, but with the slightest noise it's almost as if she was awake the whole time. She's caught me once or twice, and I've never disclosed what I do at night to anyone…I'm just not comfortable with everyone knowing I hardly sleep.
Slipping out the door, I moved a small scroll of parchment in-between, not letting it shut completely. Someone would think there was a raid if I entered the dorm at five in the morning – it has happened before, and I got pepper spray in my eyes…there's some good old-fashioned girls in my dorm, I tell you.
Tiptoeing down the staircase, I almost lose my footing towards the end. Straightening myself up, because if anyone were to look at me now, they'd most probably laugh. But I don't buy acceptable pyjamas for anyone; I like my fanged Frisbees, thank you very much. Lying down on the couch nearest the fire, I didn't hesitate to get out my wand, slightly bored already – the House Elves were obviously a little too eager to clean today, and there was nothing for me to snoop through.
Shooting up into the air, the blue light began to draw a picture, and my eyes widened at what I saw. Well, this isn't exactly fair, since I declined, and he's still following me. I mean, I'm not showing him any signs that I like him back, and you would think that being told that I'd rather eat Severus' toenail clippings than go on a date with him was enough to reflect that I didn't want to go to Hogsmeade with him. So why in Gods name am I hugging Amos Diggory in my mind?
"And your best friend calls James egotistical. What will she say when she knows you like someone whose best friend is a mirror?"
Who's there? Maybe I should say that aloud. And I do not like Diggory!
I was hardly used to company down in the middle of the night. I mean, it's not like no one's ever come downstairs whilst I've been there, but no one's ever seen me. I'm invisible…well, if only - then I could be the next superhero. Comic books would have nothing on me.
The way that I feel right now, I'd feel better off if I was alone. Since I pretty much spent the entirety of my day alone, being ditched, ignored, and such. And now, in the early hours, someone wants to talk to me? Well, as much as that is delightful, I'm more content on being alone, allowed to dwell on my own misery. It may sound pretty depressive and moody to you, but this is what I do.
And if I break it down to what he said, I'm pretty much positive I know who it is. The dumb prat. Why does he have to show up at the worst times? And when I actually needed him to bother being present, he was busy playing kiss-chase with Severus across the grounds? Boys are so difficult.
"Do I know you?" I said, scathingly. I'm not over my studying session. Well, the one that was supposed to take place if he had bothered to attend. If I fail transfiguration I'll be the one chasing him across the grounds…and then I'll drown him in the lake.
"Don't you?" Surprisingly, he doesn't sound as smug as usual. Not that he's spoken to me much. Ever. But I've heard his barking laugh, his invectives, the ways of his vituperation show such arrogance, but now…he sounds, well, different.
"Not at all," I said, now sitting up straight and turning my head to find him lying on a couch not far from me, a pillow beneath his head, his duvet and blankets about him. He raised his eyebrow at me when he saw me watching but he didn't look too happy either, he looked morose, sullen, and slightly miserable.
"You'll just have to get to know me then…" he said, reviving some of his old cheeriness, even moving about from his position to face me.
"Hardly. What are you doing down here?" I asked, looking at my nails, and crossing my legs. The windows were steamed with condensation, it was too late to be enraptured by a conversation, but I was still prepared to make one. I obviously didn't want to be alone as much as I was expressing I did.
"I don't think that's any of your business, do you?" he said, I looked up to see him slightly ruffled with annoyance. He's right, it's got nothing to do with me, but that doesn't mean I can't be trapped by curiosity. It happens to the best of us, even Mrs. Norris, who by the way, is the biggest snoop the world ever saw. He wasn't going to tell me, so I began to move from my sitting position, and stood up, ready to make me way back to the dorms. My curtains would be much better company than what sufficed from him.
"Wait!" he exclaimed, when I reached the stairs to the girls dormitory. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"
"Promise," I walked back, taking a seat nearer to his couch now, and pulling my knees up to my chest, resting my head in them. Bits of hair fell out of my ponytail and rested in front of my greeny-blue eyes, not bludgeoning my vision, but obstructing it nonetheless.
"Good, I'll hold you to that when I decide to tell you," he smiled, and I knew I looked shocked because I was feeling stunned. That's so scheming! "I just didn't want you to go, but I'll tell you. I mean, I just want a little bit of company. Who knew it could be so dreary down here at night?"
"Maybe I could sympathize with you if I knew why you were down here…" I grumbled, my head dropping onto my knees again and resting there. I looked away from him now, and settled my gaze on the windows. By my experience, I'd say by the look of things it was now stretching to two in the morning.
"Nice try," he was now grinning at me. Sirius Black didn't look half bad sometimes, with his black hair falling into those supposed 'come-to-bed eyes' that Claudia had gladly defined them. I had heard some girls call him an Adonis, but I didn't see it, although I did see with the glow of the fire embers that he could be quite handsome, with his tall stature and sharp features. Plus, his smile wasn't near perfect, his incisors pointed in, slightly crooked, made him more human, and I liked it. Of course, an Adonis would definitely have perfect dentures.
I think we sat there for a good half an hour looking everywhere but at each other, and I had never experienced such silence from Black. Not that it was ever me who he was bursting to speak to, but being in the same house it was impossible not to experience him, sometimes voicing rancid words, but still…you heard him. I think we both had other things to think about…me: since when did I have a 'conversation' with him, and Black, probably why he was down here.
"What's your name?" he finally spoke, and I knew he was looking straight at me, although I didn't look directly back. I was comfortable looking at him through the corner of my eye.
"Don't you know it?" I asked, brushing stray strands of hair behind my ear, getting the gist of this. He expected me to know who he was, but he obviously never bothered to grasp who other people were – so polite of him, isn't it?
"I wouldn't be asking if I did, fair maiden." I rolled my eyes. Such words never got anyone anywhere, in the past, and I wasn't planning to allow flattery to do me in during the present, nor the future. Funny thing though, my name means fair maiden in Shakespearean language. Just a coincidence.
"Just guess," I said, changing position so I was almost hugging my seat, my legs stretched out over the arm of the chair.
"Never was good at that game, but I'll give it a go," he was now smirking, and I knew if I could see his hands over his blankets he'd have been rubbing them together. "Rose? No. Lindsey? Of course not. Joanna? That's just not a good enough name for a girl like you. I give up."
"That's just too bad," I said, sighing as if I was almost disappointed. Which I'm not. I never expected him to get my name, nor did I ever expect him to know it in the first place. Apart from sitting next to him for my first ever feast at this school, being in the same house and year as him, being a best friend of the girl his best friend adores, and effectively being in his presence everyday, of course there was no way for him to know my name.
"You should go to bed now," he looked straight at me, and I stared straight back. I finally nodded, standing up, knowing that he probably wanted to sleep, and knowing I was still roaming, he'd be awake too.
"And?" I stopped, turning around. "I might just tell you why I'm down here…if you meet me here tomorrow night…Imogen?" Oh.
That same morning, I managed to doze off into a slumber at five a.m. I think staring at my foot for a good twenty minutes did the trick, and with two hours of sleep, I felt unsurprisingly refreshed whilst Lily and Claudia slipped out of bed, looking dazed, annoyed, and…well, tired. The two other girls in our dormitory – Shirley and Caroline were already out of bed and halfway through getting ready. This was hardly surprising either…my fourteen-year old sister Freya calls them floosies. And I'd have to agree with her, on this rare occasion.
I'm not exactly close with Freya. Okay, so whenever I'm in her presence, when it's just the two of us, to put it simply, I feel isolated. We've never bonded and I don't see it happening anywhere in the near future, although there's only two years between us. Claudia has twelve years between her and her older brother, but at the same time they love a 'jolly good laugh'. Freya doesn't look like me in the slightest, she's got the blonde hair, blue eyes, pale faced pansy doll look, but everyone thinks she's cute. Nor is she like me in any other way. In basic terms, I'm subtle and restrained, she's…not.
Of course, there's my brother Byron, who I get along with extremely well. He's already left Hogwarts and has submitted himself to the life of an Auror. Although, he's confided that he's finding it rather boring at the moment, not enough jobs, more than enough people, so he's stuck on the desks until something comes up - he's only been in the field for two years at twenty-one. You probably think we all have rather…unique names, well, not unique, more distinct.
Well, I'm named after a misspelled Shakespearean character, Freya is the goddess of love or something alike in Norse mythology, and Byron – well, my Mum liked the works of Lord Byron a little too much. She still recites 'Don Juan' to us, and I find myself sitting, groaning, and my head in my hands. Nothing compared to what happens to Byron though – that pink tinge doesn't evaporate whenever he makes it home.
And our surname is Amabel. I've been taught a lot about my surname from my Mother; you could say she's proud of where she is in life but that would be an understatement. She's practically gloating at her 'friends'. She's too flashy for my liking, but it's not like I don't love her. How can you not love your Mother? Never met a person who doesn't and I don't expect to either.
I'm a pureblood witch, but my family have never put emphasis on the importance of blood, which is why Lily still likes coming to stay at my house. Of course, Claudia likes it for a completely different reason…she just likes to stare at Byron.
"Double Charms," groaned Claudia, falling face-first onto her bed, whilst Lily's face momentarily brightened. Another unsurprising thing.
"It's okay," I leaned over and patted Claudia's mop. I was looking forward to lessons for once…something surprising, I'd say.
I hadn't even managed to sit down at the Gryffindor table and I could already see pompous Amos Diggory striding towards me. Most girls, mainly Shirley and Caroline, were taken aback when I told, or rather Claudia told, Amos Diggory that I'd rather snog a rotting flobberworm than him, but no, not Amos.
No, Amos is indifferent to rejection because Amos is superior, Amos is almighty, and Amos is bleeding unconcerned, because I'm only putting him off to make me want him more. That's what Amos said, and then Shirley repeated it to me one night in the dormitory. And I almost drowned her in a sink.
I didn't, but I can. No one would expect me to, and therefore, if I did it…no one would dare think that poor, innocent Shirley was drowned in the sink by naïve Imogen. There's not a chance in hell.
But I wouldn't do it either way, because then Claudia would doubtlessly be sent to Azkaban for a crime she didn't commit, although she's stated numerous times she'd love to. And that's why I love her, because she's never not there, except sometimes when work comes into it. Always when work comes into it, actually.
"Amos!" Claudia perked up before he'd even reached us. "So nice to see you, I'm glad you passed by. You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with my Herbology work, and I was wondering if you'd help me. Can you come with me to Greenhouse Two? Tell you what, you head down there, and I'll meet you as soon as I have my scarf." It all rolled out before Diggory had a chance to burst out a hello. He nodded wordlessly, and turned and stalked back out.
Of course, Diggory is chivalrous and gallant – he'd do anything to help a girl out.
"Shouldn't you be going back to get your scarf?" Lily asked, spooning herself some porridge, and looking at Claudia unsuspecting of any trickery.
"No. I don't even take Herbology anymore," Claudia shrugged, and winked at me.
"You're cruel," Lily smiled, although rather awkwardly. Lily was the perfect Prefect; she kept everyone straight in line, on top of all her work, prepared with ideas, a gleaming record, and not a smudge on her persona. But, then Claudia was the opposite, and you're not friends with someone like Claudia without having something in common. Lily might disapprove of some things, but she won't deny us our fun, unless it's life-threatening.
Amos being messed about is not life-threatening, except for the girl on whose shoulder he decides to cry on.
"I think she's more scheming and calculating," I pitched in, swallowing my toast, and watching Claudia's face shine.
"You two make me feel so special," she gushed, digging into her ketchup-doused sausages, bacon and eggs.
Double Charms. Sitting in-between Lily and Peter Pettigrew is hardly pleasant. Lily's my best friend but no one really wants to sit next to her throughout Charms. I've been elbowed more times than I can count when Lily's arm soars in the air to answer fifty million questions with two sodding words. Pettigrew smells, simple.
The class seemed quieter and emptier than normal, and I obviously wasn't the only the one that noticed. On our way out, whilst Claudia yawned, having dozed off not being able to perform some spells, Lily, looking weirdly concerned, turned to me:
"Don't you think there's something wrong with Potter?" she whispered, but obviously not quietly enough as a figure jumped in front of us, making Claudia emit a squeak out of surprise that still got Pettigrew excited.
"Nothing's wrong Evans, but I'm touched that you care. Tell you what, how about your own private lesson with me? I've got enough charm for the both of us…" Potter grinned, dishevelling his already messy black hair with a swipe of his hand.
Lily's concern seemed to jump off the Astronomy Tower at that point as she kicked him in the ankle on the way past to DADA. Well, she told him!
"I hate Tuesdays," Claudia moaned, falling knees first on her bed and writhing there, trying to prove how she was in agony – meet Gryffindor's resident drama queen, I'm not sure if I mentioned how hyperbolic she was earlier.
"Yesterday morning you said you hated Mondays," I said, scribbling another line to my homework for tomorrow. This is the only way to get it done, and I doubt I'll be able to do it tonight. I have…other plans.
"Imo, I hate every day that doesn't include sleeping until the afternoon or involves a Hogsmeade visit. Get with the news, lady," Claudia griped, turning her head and looking at me through slightly bloodshot-blue eyes. She looks half-dead, poor girl…if Caroline and Shirley could see her now they'd have a field day. But I'm sure they're having so much more fun surrounded by boys in the lower floors.
Lily looked like she was about to say something, but her thoughts seemed to disappear to Antarctica when she heard the words 'Hogsmeade visit'. "Oh, Prefect meeting!" and she flew out the door. Lily can be a superhero on my team too. I'm invisible, she can fly, and we just need to find something Claudia can do apart from whine people to death.
"Wake me up when the sun rises," Claudia sighed, before dosing off. And there I sat, watching my friend…dead to the world, and I just sat there, my face resting on my hand, just sitting there. Tuesday evenings – such excitement.
"I am going to kill Potter," yelled Lily, storming back into the dormitory putting an abrupt stop to my 'sitting there' two hours later. "You know what he did?" she sailed on, without waiting for a response. "He managed to get a sit-in on the meeting because Remus is ill or…visiting someone who's ill, what ever. And he spent the whole meeting, being an idiot and he veto-ed every idea of mine. Every single idea. And then, after ward, he had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to go down to the kitchens to rub on some cream and be his chocolate soufflé. What the hell is that boy on?"
"I heard a rumour that he tried to smoke goose-grass once," pitched in Claudia, who had been awoken by Lily's tirade. She didn't hear me slamming and banging bedroom cupboards or anything when I was dying for a little bit of company then.
"I bet you he thinks he's God," Lily grumbled, crossing her arms and holding a steely expression towards thoughts of a Quidditch player.
"Blasphemy!" I added, and Lily smiled a little at the both of us, before lying back on her pillows, still in her uniform and closing her eyes. Tuesday evenings – such excitement indeed.
Later on that night, I crept downstairs to the Common Room, same time as the day before. But he wasn't even there.
I think it was around seven on Saturday morning when I managed to fall into a ceaseless sleep, but of course, that could never last in my dormitory. Maybe I should come out and tell them my sleeping is sporadic, and they might just manage to leave me alone.
I wasn't calm as a kid, more like uptight, disturbed and restless, but I managed to encumber it inside a tranquil body. So, I called myself a peaceful person, just unusually filled with turbulence. And, this may have led to who I am today – I don't feel comfortable flashing my personality to all those who jump in my face, and that doesn't mean I don't have one.
So why does Shirley think she can 'accidentally' send her hairbrush flying across the room to smack my bare foot whilst I'm trying to sleep? It wasn't an industrial accident, no; she meant to do it because I heard that tramp burst into giggles straight after. No, not giggles, more like a snorting wreck of a chuckle. I'm going to attack her with a sewing pin.
And then Shirley went with Caroline…probably to spy on the boys' bathrooms. Perverts delight down with them two.
So, then I managed to go to my siesta. Didn't last longer than five minutes before the imbecile named Claudia started assaulting me with her mass. She's sitting on me. Sitting on me, burdening me with her load.
"Get off me," I grumbled, trying to shove her off and down to the floor. Why does she have to be so much stronger than me?
"No. You have to come with me to Quidditch practice, I need some support," her blonde hair flopped in her face and I wondered how she could be so active now when usually she was a miserable toad.
"I'm not coming. Take. Lily," I protested, now panting, and I pushed her. I heard a thump, but when I let my head out of my blankets, I sighed. The berk had managed to land on her feet.
"Lily's wrapped up in a letter from Molly Weasley. It says Percy is laughing now, and there's a picture. He's four months already…Lily went to see him in August. Lucky," She was now yapping on about how she couldn't go, and I moaned inwardly, wanting to object to her rapid talking.
"And this is relevant, how?" I butted in, peeking my head over to see her waving her hands, and rolling her eyes.
"Well, you have to come because Lily is allergic to Quidditch players," Claudia shrugged, sitting on the end of my bed and crossing her legs, looking inequitably fresh.
"That doesn't stop her every Wednesday morning when she goes with you to spy on the Slytherins."
"Well, allergic to Gryffindor players," Claudia sighed, and put on a pleading face. That's so deceitful, she's not even begging. Claudia doesn't beg. Notice how she hasn't said please once?
"She went to every single match last year to watch Gaspard Shingleton play," I sat straight up in bed. I could argue with this and make Lily go, as long as she wasn't here to defend herself, of course. Lily was excessively better at disputation than anyone of us.
"Did you know he invented a self-stirring cauldron over the summer? Yeah, he's flying high, man," Claudia sighed, dreamily. Everyone had liked the looks of Gaspard Shingleton, but then he'd finished school and set his sights on being an entrepreneur. Lily had adored him, he didn't think she was half-bad, Potter wanted him to drown in one of his own cauldrons.
I glared at her, and she just sighed. "Just get out of bed and come with me."
That's stern. Oh my, what am I doing? I'm getting out of bed.
I've never been a huge fan of Quidditch. No, actually, I'm not a fan at all, let alone a small one. For one, my first flying lesson was a complete disaster, and I learnt that if I wanted to fly then I'd have to learn that I couldn't unless I wanted to die at the hands of a broom. Or the twigs of a broom, what ever.
And then in second year, I was dragged to Quidditch try-outs. Claudia was actually a team hopeful, and had practiced pretty hard, but she'd lost out. Third year, I was there again, and this time I was forced to try-out too. I knew what Claudia was secretly trying to do, trying to prove that she couldn't possibly be a bad player next to me, and she was right, she got her position.
I thought that would be the end of my embarrassment and dragging my feet across the grounds, but no. Lily turned on me.
Fourth year. Lily just had to want to impress Gaspard Shingleton. I think she's going to think twice about anything she makes me do in the future after the events of that day. Let's just say some players got an eyeful of Lily's undergarments. Lily later stated that she didn't mind, she was just upset that Shingleton didn't look up when it had happened.
One-track mind, that girl.
Slipping into a seat in the stands, I brought my legs up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. Maybe I could fall asleep like this. No, not with Potter screaming, "Where's the damn ball?"
I could tell him where he could find two on his body, but I'm just going to assume he means the Quaffle.
Eyelids drooping, clear head…sleep. Now all I need is a bed, a nice pillow, some sheets and a man. Okay, that's pretty much impossible, and greedy. I'll just take the man…
If I'd kept my eyes opened, as I later realised, I would have noticed that there was one less player practicing.
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