Something Like the Truth
Book One: How to Disappear Completely
Chapter 5: Happily Muggle Born
A/N: So I was happily writing this morning when BOOM hate mail! So I will like to take the time to clarify any confusion you may have. Whenever the story switches towards first person then it means that it's through Abby's point of view. The story switches between first (Abby) and third (any character) person. As of right now the main character in the third person point of view is Harry but that will change later. Do not worry though because I will always put their name at least in the first sentence. I will always separate them with bars as well. I also want to apologize to those of you who think that this is boring (I even put it in italics for you ObsessiveCullenFan) but I can assure you that I have many things planned for this story. On that note, please enjoy and thank you for all of the reviews and for those of you who added it into your story alert/favorites!
Professor Flitwick buzzed with exhilaration at the spectacle of his second year Ravenclaws. I soon found out that he was quite an emotional man, able to become cheerful at the slightest bit of good news. He walked among us, a smile holding firm upon his thin lips as he awarded several students for their correct incantations with house points.
I was still unable to grasp the ideal concept of the House Cup. From the cheers of the Ravenclaws and sneers of the Slytherins I was able to determine that it was something well wanted by all houses. The point system awarded towards it, however, seemed quite fraudulent. My assumptions were indeed correct that there was a slight bias edge thrown into the game as each teacher was sure to award their house with the most points per lesson. However, there were some, Professor McGonagall for instance, who believed in strict teaching and shattered all views of a corrupt point system. She felt the need to reward the houses at their bests, which inevitably means losses when they were at their worst.
Regardless, Flitwick's advice of "swish and flicker" could me made out across the room at times, mainly towards the arrogant Slytherins. His words were taken seriously however. The majority of the Ravenclaws, myself included, felt as if the words placed a personal meaning of relentless trying upon each and every one of us. Each time we tried to outshine our own light or at least place someone into the shadows caste, with luck it would be any number of the Slytherins.
The charm of the day was in fact an enlarging one, known better as Engorgio. The moment I heard we would be practicing said charm I felt as if Professor Flitwick was widely overestimating our maturity levels. In a matter of seconds a group of Slytherins found entertainment to not be practicing on the small pumpkins in front of us but on real live targets. Draco indeed fired the first shot towards this battle as he directed his charm towards Mandy's nose. Later, one was fired towards Terry that expanded his left hand towards that of a small melon.
Flitwick's squawks of annoyance were carried away in the sea of charm incantations, never to be met by the ears of his faithful students. This only seemed to worsen the matter. The Ravenclaws retaliated, sending off jets of red from their own charms. It was apparent that the Engorgio charm was no longer the only spell practiced this morning. The classroom became painted with vivid greens and reds as the heat of the battle raged on.
With luck, I managed to spot a few of Draco's belongings scattered out across the floor. "Riverso," I hastily chanted towards his bag as the fabric turned over itself like a restless sea, only stopping to reveal the stitching of its insides. With a final zip of the bag, it was successfully turned inside out while its contents still remained unfazed and inside. I muttered a locking charm that would soon prove its difficulties towards Malfoy. Within my brief time limit, I managed to accomplish this on several other bags. By the end of this small battle, the Slytherins would find it quite hard to replace their bags towards their original state. I returned back to battle, raging with several charms of my own.
In a flurry, Professor Flitwick managed to restore slight order towards the class only to have the bell ring momentarily after. He sat defeated upon his stool and buried his head among the scrolls of parchment he received from a group of fifth years. Gingerly, the Ravenclaws found their way out of the room, glancing over at our Head teacher with sympathetic looks that begged for forgiveness. The Slytherins, on the other hand, managed to make as much noise as humanly possible as they stated their obvious infuriation of not being able to carry, much less open, their bags properly. Many of their papers were scattered across the room or billowing from their hands. Each one looked upon us with murderous intents. I brushed off a small twinge of guilt as I heard Malfoy pronounce a few choosy curses that deducted him house points.
Mac shot me an approving smirk before leaving with a group of boys, still laughing at the sight of the scattered Slytherins. The majority of the Ravenclaw's hands found their way towards my back as each one patted it in an approving, yet undetected manner.
I was halfway towards the safety of the Great Hall with Su, Padma, and Mandy, all bustling with talk among the way, when a series of abrupt foot steps gained my immediate attention. It was funny how life seems to freeze upon you during these times. The faint fluttering sound of my heart seemed to sync itself with every step as the girl's conversation melted into the darkness of the growing void between us.
Glancing back I saw a precursor of bleach blonde hair that placed a sinking suspicion uneasily upon the bottom of my stomach. I nodded towards the girls' bewildered gazes, signaling for their disappearance. Reluctantly, they returned towards their bits of gossip in hushed whispers as they approached the Great Hall, lingering upon the entrance of it to see if they could catch a glimpse of the following conversation.
Draco Malfoy presented himself in front of me in a dignified matter. However, the smirk upon his lips revealed his thoughts of supremacy. "We were never properly introduced." His gaze fell upon the small crest bearing the name of my house before his dry voice rang through out the halls. "Surly someone in Ravenclaw would have enough sense to not be caught dead hanging out with Potter and his blood traitor friends." He laced the words Potter with as much venom as he could while still appearing light and airy upon the banter.
"I prefer to live on the edge," I replied sourly through clenched teeth. I could not stop my mind from wandering rudely upon the subject of time and how long it would take Malfoy to leave. I was still not in the forgiving mood and could only hope that it appeared through out my astringent words.
"Yes," he agreed idly upon the matter as if he were deciding between two breakfast cereals, "I suppose so." His gaze fell heavy upon my attire, searching for something to mock and ridicule that would immediately place him rightfully back in control. Finding nothing upon my freshly ironed uniform and tidy bag, he was brought back towards our dull conversation. "I am Draco Malfoy, but I presume you already know that." His pale hand reached forth, asking for connection with mine as an arrogant smirk appeared hanging above his pointed chin. He coated his words in an overpowering smugness that I found contemptuous. "I never caught your name." He spoke languorously as if the matter never really interested him and he was simply following orders of his beloved father.
"Abigail Williams," I stated in a fake sweetness that made my stomach churn as I grasped his hand for a stiff shake. "Happily muggle-born," I added on a lighter note as I became transfixed by the sudden shift in Malfoy's expression. He became rigid at once as his shoulders broadened. His entire body seemed to pause upon that note as he looked down upon his hand in abhorrence. Yanking it free from my diseased ridden grasp his tone hardened, no longer needing to be laced in a fake interest if he was addressing a mudblood.
As the amusement from his shock attire faded, my eyes fell upon something else. "Shame about your bag," I noted in a triumphant smirk of my own. Briskly, I walked away, leaving him to stare in bewilderment upon the freshly painted target across my back. This was sure to not be the end of our feud but to merely mark the start of it.
Upon my departure I could distinctly make out his words of Mudblood and how this God forsaken school was full of them. My victorious smirk never faltered as I met up with Su once more.
Discussing my ill behavior seemed to become the priority on her agenda for the evening. "Are you barking mad?" She asked incredulously, unable to believe I would say such things to the all powerful Draco Malfoy. "Or do you just have a death sentence?"
"Honestly Abby," Padma chimed in on a more scholarly approach as she informed me of my wrong doing, "his father could have you expelled. He is one of the governors after all."
"The Malfoys aren't ones to tolerate muggle-borns. They even pick on half-bloods when they cross their path," Mandy chimed in with a small voice before returning towards her reading.
I dismissed the topic with a roll of my cobalt eyes. "He can threaten me all he wants. Besides, he's only talk." With a group sigh they decided to postpone their pestering towards a more suitable time.
As our small break lagged on, my gaze fell upon the golden trio. I tried to cover my mouth in a desperate attempt to stop the laughter that was sure to follow as I noted their grungy appearances. Each one seemed to have clumps of dirt stained across their robes and scattered through out their hair. They carried looks of exhaustion as they plumped down upon their seats.
"You guys look dreadful," I commented, unable to prevent the chuckle in my voice as I sat beside them.
"Ha ha very funny," Harry muttered through his goblet. "You just wait till you have Herbology."
"I hate Mandrakes," Ron felt the need to mutter as he bitterly picked up his goblet, wishing that the cool water would refresh his aching body.
"It wasn't all bad," Hermione informed me on a lighter note as she smiled with a faint curl of her upper lip upon the memory of the class. Naturally she had the least amount of dirt upon her. "They're actually kind of cute."
"Yeah, if you're blind," Ron scoffed between sips. Harry and I passed each other quick smirks, both biting our bottom lip to silence our laughter. As a light shade of green danced upon the outsides of his irises from amusement, mine withheld tears for I always found them to accompany my hilarity.
Looking upon the other end of the spectrum, Hermione glowered into her pumpkin juice as she bitterly drank between pursed lips. Her limbs became stiff with humility causing her to move faster than normal, almost as if she were trying not to disturb the universe by taking a bagel.
An awkward moment of silence settled in a thin layer upon the group until Ron saved our poor souls with a question. "What class do we have next?" It was a simple question never the less but do not let its simplicity fool you. It was secretly a life preserver, destined to catch a hold back on to the previous thriving conversation.
"Transfigurations," Hermione muttered as she shot him look that told him to memorize his own schedule. She seemed to ease slightly back towards the flow of the conversation, offering commentary here and there until it was time to leave.
The two houses fused together forming a sea of blue and bronze with flickers of red and gold. As a result, I was free to talk towards the golden trio along with my fellow Ravenclaws. They still seemed quite enthused about our fashionable arrival and either congratulated them or begged for the story to be told once more. Ron always seemed to shine away from the truth, making each one more far fetched than the last. This time it seemed that he won the flying car after a grave duel with a genie. Harry and I stifled our laughter from the thought of Ron trying to duel. After all, he was the one who snapped his wand from trying to stop this magical flying car. Hermione seemed thoroughly uninterested and proved so by quickening her pace.
Transfiguration proved to be a pointless class in my mind. Perhaps it was because I saw no potential use in transforming beetles into buttons. It could be useful for those calamitous emergencies when you're in dire need of a button and there is only a beetle scurrying around. However, I found my twelve years to never present me with such a problem. I guess I would be well prepared for the future seeing as I was at top level with Miss Granger and her beetles-to-buttons way.
Of course in every class if there are those who succeed then there are those who fail. Harry and Ron seemed to be having a particularly rueful time in transforming their beetles. Harry only seemed successful in allowing his beetle a free range of exercise as he chased it around his desk vigorously with his wand. Although poor, it was not as bad as Ron's attempt, who should be credited with the name exterminator. It seemed that no beetle was safe for whenever he tried to cast the spell a thick purple fog engulfed it where he would end up accidentally putting a stopper on its life, compliments of the impact from his elbow. Mrs. McGonagall did not seem too pleased by Ron's attempts and in the end dismissed him from the practice blaming it on the poor condition of his wand. He never appeared happier when the lunch bell rang.
In a scurry similar toward the beetles, the class filed out of the room in hopes to find a suitable seating arrangement for lunch. However, Harry and Ron lingered in the room, discussing the state of Ron's broken wand. It was far beyond repair and he would have to write home for a new one but that nagging voice in the back of his head known as pride convinced him other wise. It would be a cool day in the devil's home before he admitted that to his parents, trying his best to avoid another howler. The things were quite dreadful really and I was extremely relieved when my parents sent a normal muggle letter, free from any sort of magical tantrum.
Lunch passed by quickly as I ate with my fellow Ravenclaws. All seemed to be deeply conversed in a similar book, Voyage with Vampires. It only took a brief moment before I became sick of looking at the elaborate cover that I decided to catch my breath out side. It was my first time exploring the grounds on my own and it was quite invigorating. The grass was still scorched in various parts from its battle with the summer heat. Regardless, everything seemed to be thriving. The Whomping Willow, with its splinted limbs and bandaged covered trunk, even seemed to be standing taller in the fresh autumn air. It felt as if I left all my cares back at the castle's entrance; that is until I saw one rather arrogant Malfoy making his way towards the golden trio with his thugs standing secularly next to him. To my demise, each one had their bags turned properly outside. I was hoping for a more time lasting effect but I will take what I am given.
Harry, rather annoyed at a small squirrelly boy holding a camera that looked to be half his weight, was too engrossed in his conversation to notice the approaching Slytherins.
"Heads up," I warned, nodding off towards the haughty Malfoy. Harry's look, if possible, fell into a worsen state than before. The squirrelly boy, better known as Colin Creevey, shrank behind Harry, his protector.
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" His annunciations were shallow yet bitter, as if he did not have the time to waste to pronounce his words properly. He was sure they were heard as his voice rang through out the courtyard, ceasing hold of the attention of a few passer biers. Even Hermione seemed fazed enough to peer over the cover her book, yet another Voyage with Vampires. His two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, seemed to be ready to take one anything but an IQ test.
Malfoy continued in a mock excitement as he roared to the crowd, "Everyone line up! Potter's giving out signed photos!"
Harry was not much of a trash talker as he denied Malfoy's statement and threw in a "shut up" with a clenched jaw and fists.
It was Colin who piped up and threw Malfoy back to his place. "You're just jealous." Here, here. He cowered back under Harry as he took a quick survey of Crabbe's exposed forearms. His analysis was that he was about as thick as his neck and therefore should value his life by holding his tongue.
"Jealous?" Malfoy asked incredulously as if the mere thought was ludicrous enough that it should be humored. There was no longer any need for him to shout as he already gained the entire courtyard's attention. "Of what?" He pressed on towards the cowering Colin, summoning more of his ridiculous sentiments. It seemed that he was in a mood to laugh as his gaze darted back towards Harry derisively. "I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself." Pressing forth with the stupid sniggers from Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy sneered towards the cluster of Gryffindors.
Ron with his short fuse that just became lighted, stepped out and confronted their Slytherin nemesis. "Eat slugs!" His face was scrunched into an undeniable rage but became less threatening the moment he brandished his Spellotaped wand. The extremely massive wade that held the fragments of his wand together were undeniably noticeable and resulted in the immediate laughter of the taunting Malfoy.
"Careful Weasley," Malfoy sneered with the help of his faithful companions who rubbed their knuckles in a looming way. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy will have to take you away from school." The tone that followed was a shrill, pierce of the crisp autumn air. "'If you put another toe out of line' –"
A knot of passing Slytherins laughed upon the insult as they looked in with amusement. I felt the unprecedented urge to hex them all into next year but suddenly denied it once I spotted a flash of pearly whites.
"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter." The way he pronounced Harry's name made even my blood boil as the rage lapped upon the surface of my skin, stinging every cell in existence. I could no longer deny it and apparently neither could Ron. His glare was giving Malfoy a run for his money, creating him to speak more jests in order to cut him down a few notches. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house –"
Ron bellowed out a low and menacing growl. From the bewildered glances of Harry and Hermione I could tell that this was not his usual means of confrontation. It must have just been added to the list. Brandishing his wand once more, he was prepared to hex Malfoy's face until it fell off from exhaustion. However, he was never given that chance seeing as Hermione gripped his shoulder tightly as she whispered words of caution.
"What's all this? What's all this?"
Harry groaned inwardly towards that chuckle in the voice. He knew that voice, no matter how hard he tried to forget.
Gilderoy Lockhart with his award winning smile plastered on his face in a cheesy grin beamed down towards his pupils. As always, he was completely incompetent and hadn't the faintest clue towards the fight he just prevented. This did little to prevent him from billowing out his elaborate turquoise robes in hopes of admiration by his adoring fans. His wish was granted as Hermione's knees buckled underneath her wobbling legs causing her to swoon from on top of a bench.
"Who's giving out signed photos?"
In a blinding ray of hope Harry shrank back, trying to avoid his scanning glance. This proved to not be his lucky day as Lockhart smiled down upon him. "I should have known," he thundered cordially as his arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder, soon proving to be more of a barrier. He was unaware towards the extent of his face but by judging by the snickers of the Slytherins he could tell that it was horribly off color. His face felt as if it was on fire and the only thought pinned towards his humiliated mind was that of disappearance.
Lockhart beamed down towards the small boy, probably because he was the only one holding a camera. He urged the boy to take the picture and promised a signature from both of them. Upon that note, Harry flat out refused to stay still as he struggled against Lockhart's peculiarly strong grasp.
Everyone scurried off towards class the moment the bell sounded. Each one was laughing towards the turn of events. Much to Harry's demise he was pulled back towards Lockhart who successively babbled on about fame and when it was proper to hand out signed photography. Once again he was immune towards Harry's brief stammers of explanation. It seemed that when Lockhart had an idea in that empty space of a head of his, it was free to grow until it took up the entire space.
Once free of Lockhart's grasp, Harry immediately began to place distance between the two of them. He sat in the back as he fumbled over the tidiness of his robes. Once done, he began to stack Lockhart's collected work upon the desk in hopes that they will shield him of the real thing.
With a chuckle Abigail placed her works next to his creating a stronger barrier. "I don't like him either," she said particularly loud but Lockhart did not seem to notice. He was far too busy straining his ears to hear compliments. So it was natural that he merely over looked the thousands of insults that headed his way. Her nose was crinkled as if she had smelled something revolting and with one guess Harry knew who she was referring to. He sighed in relief, thankful that there was one girl who was rational enough to own a shred of common sense.
"Don't let him hear you say that," Harry warned with a chuckle. "I don't know how he will react towards criticism."
"I don't think anything can crush that ego of his." The two passed whispered words of laughter until Ron and Hermione entered.
"You could've fried an egg on your face," Ron's voice was laced in laughter as he recalled the incident. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."
Harry merely rolled his eyes towards the chuckles of his friends as he tossed a nonchalant 'shut up' towards Ron. He did not particularly want Lockhart to linger over the words of fan club and thought it best to drop the subject all together.
Lockhart strode across the classroom, every eye upon him glancing intently as he loved every second of it. He stopped to hover over a timid Neville to pick up one of his books, his fingers carefully clasped on the edge of the cover as to better reveal his portrait. It winked down upon the class as he revealed another one of his award winning smiles.
"Me," a chuckle held high upon his voice as if noble, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" He chuckled along with some of the girl's high pitched laughter. Harry noticed Abigail's hand tightly clasped towards her mouth in a desperate attempt to prevent her laughter towards the conceited man in front of them. "But I presume that you all know that. As a means of checking, I have prepared a small quiz. Nothing to worry about," he reassured the class after several moans were present. "It's just to see how much you have taken in from your reading."
"I can go ahead and answer that now," Abigail whispered, a scoff present in her tone. "Nothing." Hermione seemed to stiffen upon the insult as the boys tried their best to cover their snickers.
"Small?" Ron repeated incredulously as he stared upon the stack of parchment that was indeed identified as the quiz. It was more of a small tree really.
Everyone glanced down upon their stack, each one being met with questions strictly about Lockhart. Some, such as Abigail, took it upon themselves to point how absurd the quiz was by answering with witty responses. For the first question asking what his favorite color was she replied with tickle me pink. Upon asked about said answer she replied directly towards his face, "Sorry professor but you strike me as a pink kind of guy." She continued to respond with her witty answers, despite the countless glares she received from several of the girls.
What seemed like hours, Lockhart gathered the rolls of parchment and leafed through each one carefully. I restrained my laughter as his face fell from what I could only guess was from staring at my answers. Harry and Ron also seemed to be having similar difficulties as they shock with silent laughter.
Hermione, as per usual, received top marks and thus earned Gryffindor ten points. A heavy sigh was heard from her before she rested her head in her palms and stared up at Lockhart dreamily. Surprisingly enough, the majority of the girls seemed to have this flattered disposition. Even Mandy was twirling a lock of her ginger hair playfully with the tip of her index finger.
"And now to business," Lockhart announced, his voice echoing through out the room. A silence fell as he lifted a covered cage upon his desk.
"Now," a surprisingly serious tone replaced Lockhart's general jovial one, "be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourself facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here." I half expected him to wink towards the cowering Neville in his front seat but instead he only offered the simple words of, "All I ask is that you remain calm."
Everyone felt an underlying tug upon their curiosity as we all inched forth in our hard wooden seats. I even felt my own curiosity rising as I craned my view around the stack of books. Some shivered in a cold sweat towards the possibilities of what could be under the cover. Those in the front took no chances as they slowly inched themselves back as far as their seats would allow them.
Lockhart's gaze wondered across the class as he determined if we could handle such terror. Anxiety wrapped itself across our chests as it tightened with every second. Some held their breath, afraid it would be their last.
"I must ask you not to scream," his voice was clam and soothing but with a ringing anticipation that rose higher like the tides, "it might provoke them!" His shouts were heard clearly from the back as now everyone held their breath only to release it in a fit of laughter as he revealed several creatures that were no taller than a few inches. They were hardly anyone's worst fear. The only terrible thing that came from them was their intolerable chatter that was more shrills than anything. They rapped against the bars of their prison the moment the cover disappeared.
"Yes," Lockhart swooned dramatically towards what he mistook for screams of terror. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
Several snorts of laughter were heard, scattered across the room as the tension evaporated. One in particular was louder than the rest as it came from Seamus Finnigan. Even Lockhart could not deny that it indeed was a snort of laughter and not a shriek.
"Don't be so quick to judge!" spoke Lockhart in a tone that suggested he knew more than he led on. I did not particularly like that tone. From him it could mean a class full of misery. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
Provoked and pressed into a corner from the fits of laughter, something snapped within Lockhart's mind. It was clear that he needed to restore order and there was only one way to do so. "Right, then," Lockhart called out above the talk of the class. "Let's see what you make of them!" He released the pixies from their imprisonment. In a split second they were causing pandemonium across the room.
I despise being right sometimes.
"Round them up. Round them up. They're only pixies." Lockhart's jests were barley audible over the crinkling sound of glass shattering as several pixies began to throw books out the windows.
A disgruntled Neville kicked wildly in the air as a group of pixies dragged him up by his ears. Finding a suitable place, they hung him from the chandelier as he continued his impatient gestures of wanting to be let go.
Feeling that the class had had enough, Lockhart carefully rolled his sleeves up in order to not wrinkle the expensive fabric. Brandishing his wand he bellowed out "Peskipiksi Pesternomi" in a sing song fashion as he waved his wand similar towards a conductor.
Nothing happened. The pixies were still roaming through out the room like barbarians in the fall of Rome. One was bold enough to snatch his wand from his very grasp. He suddenly became intrigued by the wood work in his own desk as he dove underneath it.
There was a flash of house colors as the majority of the class left in a blind hurry. The ever so gracious Lockhart assigned the four of us, me along with the golden trio, to recapture the pixies. He then flocked towards his room after he fought over one of his many portraits with a group of pixies.
We proceeded to capture the pixies by any means necessary. Generally it meant swatting at them with books as if they were a flock of annoying flies and not electric blue miniaturized demons.
"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as he hit one of the pixies who just left a painful bite mark across the top of his reddened ear.
"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," Hermione defended as she froze several nearby pixies with an immobilizing charm. I felt the need to scoff at her words but held back as she seemed severally put off from all of the words of discouragement.
"Hands on?" Harry repeated, disbelieving his own ears. "He didn't have a clue what he was doing!"
"I've had just about enough of this," I muttered, tired from trying to grasp a pixie who kept sending rude gestures towards me. I revealed my wand with what I could guess was a relentless look of infuriation. "Congelo!"
Time itself seemed to slow down as the wings of the pixies dawdled until they seemed as if they would never move again. Suspended in mid air, looks of confusion spread across each one. With a tilt of my wand, they were back into the cage with the door safely latched. Their incoherent chatter rang forth as they buzzed through out the small container, annoyed at the trick that was just played upon him.
I placed my wand happily back into the safe confinement of my robes before looking up to met bewildered glances.
"Brilliant," Ron muttered as he glanced back over the caged pixies, a smug look of triumph overcoming his features.
"I've never seen that spell before," Hermione muttered in confusion as she repaired several of the windows.
I pointed down towards my small house crest that seeped through the slivers of my hair. "Ravenclaw, remember?"
A/N: (Yes again, I am sorry) It occurred to me that while I was editing this chapter, it did not put the bars and extra spaces in like I thought it would. I believe this happened to all of the chapters and I am sorry for the confusion. I'm currently going back and fixing the chapters in order to make it less confusing. I am terribly sorry and I will try to do a better job of editing next time.
P.S. Please feel free to message me or put in a review if you have any more confusion or criticism. Although, I would like it if you guys would occasionally tell me if you like the story but I'll take what I can get. Thanks again!