Ch. 6: Sour Dispositions
"You don't actually think there's anything serious going on between Madeline and Roger, do you?" Amita asked timidly.
"I dunno. From the looks of it, they were pretty randy." Cho said distractedly.
"I'm sure it was a mistake," Amita said in confidence, "It meant nothing, I suppose…just like the last time."
Cho looked over and raised an eyebrow.
"Amita…"
"What!" she snapped.
The Ravenclaw Common Room was located in the East Tower of the school. On the outside of the door, a large, vintage lamp was mounted on the wall. By saying the password (pudding snacks), a brilliant blue flame would appear crackling inside it and a door would slide open. That night, Cho was in for a treat.
"Pudding snacks," she mumbled. The lamp stayed unlit and cold. "What the fuck—Amita, 'pudding snacks is the password, correct?"
"Yeah," Amita grumbled discontentedly. She was in quite a horrible disposition.
Cho cleared her throat and spoke loudly and slowly,
"PUDDING SNACKS." And still no response. Becoming frustrated, (it was after all, 2:30 in the morning) she shouted the password several more times and threatened it with her wand. All the while, Amita stood passively to the side. She did not seem at all anxious to be let in.
Cho was pounding at the wall now, fuming (she could get into an atrocious state if denied sleep), when the door slid open with ease. Thinking for a second that her temper had allowed this blessing, she stepped back defiantly only to be greeted with a lethargic and meagerly clothed Madeline. Madeline immediately jumped to her senses and a smattering of pink trickled onto her cheeks.
"Hey, Cho-- I thought I heard your voice."
"Oh. Yeah, sorry Mad. Why won't the password work? It was driving me fucking crazy." Cho asked, too tired to be awkward.
"They changed it about three hours ago," Madeline said, "Hey, sorry about what happened earlier—I suppose I lost track of time. It was quite funny, actually. Amita, did you hear? Cho walked in on—"
"Yeah. I heard." Amita interrupted a little coldly.
"Oh. Alright. Well, you guys should really be off to bed. You look dead beat, I must say." Madeline said breezily, not picking up the slight hostility in Amita's tone. In truth, Cho was too tired to notice it either. All three of them trudged to their dormitory heavily. Cho brushed her teeth, careful to cast a scouring charm on the bathroom floor, and then climbed silently into the luxury of her bed.
She awoke the next morning feeling horrifically disgusting. Glancing at her clock that read 10:45, she pulled herself out from between the sheets and hobbled to the shower. A shower was all she needed to lighten her spirits at that moment, and after a half-hour of happiness, Cho stepped out of the bathroom refreshed, and wrapped in a towel. Amita was missing from the room, but Madeline was still a lump in the blankets. Must've been quite a hubbub of friendly exertion last night Cho thought, chuckling to herself. At the moment, no degree of jealously or insecurity could make her hate Madeline, so she bent over her and whispered profanities into her ear. Madeline rolled a bit and then opened one eye.
"Whaddaya wan?" she mumbled incoherently.
"Rise and shine, duckie! Let's go get some chow!"
Madeline fell back into her pillow.
"Fine, see what I care," and then she tackled her.
Madeline was screaming "BLOODY MURDER!" and protesting against Cho's towel attire when the door swung open. Amita walked in solemnly.
"Hey, darling," Cho said, standing up.
"Cho, d'you want to go and grab some breakfast?" Amita asked, making it clear to look at Cho, and only Cho.
"Sure, let me get dressed and then we can all go,"
Amita hesitated and glanced at Madeline for a short while. Madeline warily looked back.
"Actually, I have to catch up on some studying, so I'll go ahead and eat first," she said, trying to sound casual. Cho didn't have a chance to say anything else before Amita went quickly out the door.
"Is she…mad at me?" Madeline asked, furrowing her brow,
"Maybe," Cho said, frowning. Then she remembered Amita's probing the previous night. She hadn't really been paying much attention, but it was obvious.
"I don't see what she could possibly pin on me," Madeline said, scratching her head.
"Roger Davies," Cho said plainly.
"Roger…!"
"Yes. She seemed a bit irked when I told her about your fun yesterday."
Madeline blushed. "But…Roger never really seemed her type. I didn't think she'd be mad…and she knew about what happened at the party Saturday-- she didn't seem upset in the least bit."
Cho thought it was all too evident, and grew impatient that Madeline could be so thick. Besides, she could relate to Amita in this particular situation.
"I'm sure you'll work it out," Cho said briskly, grabbing her clothes and robes, "I've gotta go and get changed. You should too—we've got about forty minutes before class, so hurry." She hurried into the bathroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Holding her robes under her arm, she went back into the room to gather her things only to find Madeline whispering with someone through a half-opened door. Cho looked at the person on the other side and saw, with not much surprise, Roger Davies. Cho cleared her throat which made both of them jump and look at her.
"Hello, Roger,"
Roger looked a bit stunned, but gathered his wits quite efficiently. "Cho! Didn't expect you out so quickly. I was looking for you to remind you that…we don't have practice tonight." Cho knew perfectly that it was a horrible lie.
"Davies, I know, for godsake. You told me specifically last night at practice. Twice."
"Oh…did I? Well, Wednesday, right? Quidditch."
Cho nodded.
"Um…nice dropping by…see you then." He was stalling. It was maddening.
Cho walked to her closet on the far side of the room, pretending to take no notice, but listened attentively. She heard Madeline trying to shut the door, but Roger persisted.
"When will I see you again?" he whispered.
"I don't know. Go away, I'll talk to you later," Madeline said hastily, and forced the door closed.
"So it's a bit serious, eh?" Cho asked while she pulled on her socks. Madeline said nothing, and Cho decided it best not to pursue the topic.
Ten minutes later, Cho and Madeline were eating waffles in the Great Hall. They had both been silently munching, when Cho could no longer bear the suspense.
"Madeline, why didn't you tell me earlier about you and Roger?" she asked, setting her fork down.
"I did tell you," Madeline said. Cho rolled her eyes. She hated it when people weren't to the point.
"Only that you were drunk and it meant nothing. Obviously that conversation this morning, not to mention last night…those were just a wee bit of something?"
Madeline looked at Cho, and after what looked like careful consideration, she provided an explanation. "…I ran into Roger last night and we started talking—not about anything in particular, but I suppose because of what happened between us on Saturday kind of led us…farther. You know, we weren't really all that drunk. And now, he thinks it's really something."
Cho coughed. So she'd lied about being drunk. Fantastic. She held her tongue.
"Cho, you know I don't usually do things that are so…" Cho knew it was coming and cringed a little, "…rash." She hesitated.
"Go on," Cho said, reaching for the syrup.
"But this has sort of…I dunno…lifted me, so to speak," She smirked slightly, "And now that Amita is mad at me, I'm in a bit of a pickle."
"Amita is probably just bothered that you didn't tell her the whole story. It is, after all, something you tell your friends." Cho said nonchalantly.
Madeline blinked. "You're not mad at me as well?"
Cho put down her fork for the second time and looked at Madeline scrupulously.
"No," she said after some time, "I'm not mad at you."
In Transfiguration, Amita carefully made sure to not make any eye-contact with Madeline, merely moving away as soon as Madeline made any sign of starting a conversation. Cho found the behavior quite silly; true, Cho had found the situation irritating, but not enough to build a grudge. Cho was partnered with Amita for practicing large-scale transfiguration. Amita, who was usually quite competent, succeeded in only turning her first pin into a sort of small, tortured creature, and her second caught on fire. As Cho put the fire out with a languid flick of her wrist, she wondered how on earth a pin could catch on fire.
The hour passed quickly, and soon Amita and Cho were on their way across the castle grounds to Divination.
"Amita, Madeline made a mistake—albeit an atrocious one—but is it really worth it to get this upset about? You should really be happy for her. This is Mad we're talking about: she doesn't do these sorts of things."
Amita looked perturbed. "She lied to her friends. Isn't that enough?"
Cho was slightly taken-aback. This sort of reaction didn't seem at all characteristic of Amita for she had always been one to draw rational, even-handed conclusions. However, seeing her response, she thought that telling Amita that Madeline had really not been drunk that Saturday was an unwise decision. Just as Cho and Amita were approaching the front steps to the Divination tower, the door swung open to reveal, alas, a certain green-eyed wizard. Harry Potter stopped dead and stared at Cho. Amita looked amused.
"Hey, Cho," he said, trying to sound smooth.
"Hi, Harry," Cho responded tiredly, "How's it going?"
"Okay," he said a bit too quickly, "So you take divination?"
Cho thought it an absurdly stupid question, for she was about to enter the divination tower, but to spare him from embarrassment, she acknowledged a 'yes'.
"Well. I'd better be off to class or I'll be late," Cho said, giving a polite smile. Harry, noticing the smile, grinned and went off on his way.
"Cho, the poor boy still kind of likes you," Amita said, snickering.
"Shut up," Cho laughed, and pushed her in through the doors.