Authors Note: Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. I had the chapter written since earlier in the week, but I knew with school starting I wouldn't be able to post it until the weekend. So thank you all for waiting - you're all amazing!
And don't forget to follow me on Tumblr! : aliceinamorata . tumblr . com
Rachel Berry and the Victimizing yet Erotic Glares of Quentin Fabray
Alice Inamorata
Everyone looks at her oddly this morning so she double checks: no, her skirt isn't tucked into her panties. No, a button on her blouse isn't undone. She looks presentable, but people are still looking and snickering to themselves.
It's no surprise; Rachel was used to the snickering and laughter.
But the days are growing closer to Christmas break and she can't help but be excited for the Christmas Carols the Hogwarts Chorus sings. The enchanted ceilings of the Great Hall are darkened, even in the morning, with grey clouds to emphasize the coming snow in mid-December. Even though the hall wasn't cold, Rachel felt herself shivering as she sat down.
"Why are they looking at you?"
Rachel looks up and smiles. Tina Cohen-Chang sits down in front of her with her red-flecked robes, smiling herself. Tina, Rachel's long term best friend housed in Gryffindor, but they were as close as ever. They had many classes together where Tina would attempt to write notes but Rachel would be too busy with her nose stuffed in her book.
The petite brunette shrugs, "The reason is unknown, but I'm sure it's something immature." She reaches forward and grabs a hefty amount of fruit salad, piling it into her bowl.
Hogwarts was not very good at accommodating to vegans and vegetarians. All they really had was fruit and vegetables.
"Um…have you seen the drawings?"
Rachels head snaps up, "What. Drawings."
Tina sighs, combing her fingers through her hair. At that time, her boyfriend, Mike, comes dancing down the hall and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. He smiles at Rachel and runs off to the grounds where he was to begin Quidditch practice.
"Someone took white chalk and drew what you looked like naked…"
Her heart falls into the pit of her stomach as the blood boils. Slamming her fists on the table in pure rage, Rachel Berry storms out of the Grand Hall, hearing Quentin's fellow goons, Santana and Brian, laughing along with him. Tina quickly follows, trailing after her best friend with a quickened pace. Rachel was too quick, though; never mess with an angry Berry.
Though in the background, Quentin Fabray looks after the brunette with worried eyes.
"What the…" she cries, sighing at the pornographic drawing on the dark colored wall. It was detailed alright, all down to the stubble around her pubic area. The artist(s) drew her face: bigger nose, small eyes with mangy hair. Her jaw was shaped like a square, her lips in an 'O' formation.
Rachel knew exactly what that meant.
But then she saw her breasts…the artist made it so they barely existed. He made it so her chest looked like a man's, but decided to put stray hairs around her nipples. Her womanly shape was gone, replaced by a rectangle and a triangle between her legs. Her womanly area was perfectly exposed with her legs opened and what looked like juices coming out of it. The artist drew a ton of hair though Rachel kept herself perfectly groomed.
Then the crowd of people came to look. First they hushed, whispering, but then that one person laughs and points, and all others joined in. And through that crowd came Quentin, Santana and Brian; Santana with a perfect smirk on her face, Brian's arm wrapped around her.
"Striking similarity, huh Berry?" Santana asks, the laugher becoming so loud that Rachel's ears felt like they were going to burst. "I think it's pretty artistic."
"Go away, Santana." Tina snaps, wrapping her arm around a tearful Rachel Berry. Her brown eyes turned to Quentin, who seems happy at the event, but Rachel notices that he somewhat shrugs as if to say, 'I don't know what to tell you.' He also rubs his forehead and she wonders if he even remembers what happened the past night.
"Oh, 'go away.' How cute. Are you defending your girlfriend, Tina?"
Tina makes a face and takes Rachel away from the scene, holding her close and rubbing her hand on her hair. In the background, Quentin turns to Santana, the crowd slowly fades away.
"You did this?" he snaps. Santana smirks.
"How did…" Quentin turns to Brian, "You swore you wouldn't say anything."
"You never said it was a secret."
"Yes I did!"
"We didn't shake on it…"
"You don't…" Quentin huffs, glaring at Santana, "THAT, was wrong."
"What," Santana steps away from Brian's arm, looking up into Quentin's eyes, "Don't tell me you have feelings for the hobbit."
"No, but that's just fucking cruel."
"Excuse me, Mister Fabray?" the group of three turns around and looks behind them where the professor stands. She stands tall, at least six feet with an additional four with the black hat on top of her head. Professor Minevra McGonagall looks down at the three, her eyes scolding as she scans them. "I recently noticed a crying Rachel Berry and wondered if you had anything to do with this piece of art."
The professor motions to the dark wall with her wand placed gently in her hand. Quentin didn't know what to do, so he nods and looks down, ashamed. If he had said no, it would have meant lying and possibly giving up Santana, who would obviously make his life hell if he sold her out. He had to abide by his friends no matter what they chose to do.
"Very well," she sighs, looking at the portrait and shuddering. "Three weeks of detention for all of you."
"What?" Santana yells as the woman turns her back, "I can't miss Quidditch!"
"And," McGonagall turns around, "You will wash this wall CLEAN of that portrait. WITHOUT magic."
"Okay class, raise your wands and repeat after me." The professor stands in front of the class, his short stature making him almost invisible to those at the back. Quentin sits there, standing up straight in his seat, wand at the ready. He looks to the side of his vision and sees Rachel sat down, frown on her face while a concerned Tina eyed her slightly.
Santana nudges Quentin's shoulder and passed him a note. With hazel eyes shooting between the note and the professor, he opens the note.
I'm not sorry for what I did. But you've been slacking lately with the Berry pranks. You need to do something to make her humiliated or else.
He looks to Santana and she smirks.
Or else, what?
She writes back.
I'll tell everyone your secret. You know I'll do it.
Quentin feels himself shiver as he rips up the parchment and shoves it in his school bag. He mutters the spell under his breath and the professor looks at him happily as his feather is the first one to float in the air.
"Great!" He urges, walking with his stumpy legs up to Quentin, patting him on the back, "Great job, son! Great, great job!" he laughs, whispering in his ear, "I still wonder why you're not in Ravenclaw."
Quentin smirks softly before letting his feather fall back slowly in front of him. Santana doesn't give a shit, just sitting there and staring at the feather. Quentin had no idea how she was able to do nothing in class but still pass.
He hates people like that. But she's Brian's girlfriend and he and Brian had been best friends for years.
"Okay class! Now remember, and don't forget! Next week in the Christmas Choral Dance. Our own miss Rachel Berry will be singing you all a very special Christmas carol. And anyone else willing to join the chorus is still able to join!"
As Quentin looks over at Rachel he sees her beaming and talking erratically about the song she's going to sing. He can't help but smile at her softly, but then Santana raises her hand, slapping him behind the head. "Snap out of it." She grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, "She's a dwarf."
Quentin knew with every fibre of his being not to fuck with Santana. Like she says, 'The only straight I am is a straight up bitch.' Well…until she met Brian's FRIEND.
You know what I mean.
He knows she'll tell the whole world about his other life. About his past and perhaps his future. He made the mistake about telling her, but he felt as if she was the only girl he could kind of trust. So he sighs.
But he still looks at Rachel, finding happiness in her smile. Their eyes do meet and Rachel merely looks at him, no emotion in her eyes, no smile, no flush of happiness. He feels his heart breaking, knowing his 'friends' did this to her. He knows deep down Rachel Berry is an amazing person; sweet, beautiful and intellectual. But she just had the biggest target on her forehead.
And he loved the power he gained when he made her cry, though he knew it was wrong. So Quentin picked up his bags and shrugged it over his shoulder. And while walking past Rachel, he let his hand swipe at her bottle of ink, letting it fall over and stain her skirt.
"Quentin!" she cried. He couldn't help but turn around, looking into her eyes. "Do you not remember last night?"
He did remember. But he didn't want to. He didn't want to remember what he had told her, what he had done to her.
"No. I have no idea what you're talking about."
Turning on his heels, he heard Tina fussing over Rachel. He knew her eyes were still watching him. He also knew that he had to go to the library to get some work done, but he couldn't allow himself to. He couldn't be faced with the memories they had made there.
So he walked as fast as he could to the Slytherin Common room and cursed at the moving stairs that got in his way.
He hears Santana and Brian laughing in the Common room that night; Santana sitting on his lap and playing with his floppy blonde hair.
"Do you think owls have feelings?" Brian asks, Santana giving him an odd look.
"Do I love to have sex?"
Quentin rolls his eyes, putting his nose into his Transfiguration paper. The two giggle, Santana wrapping her arms around Brian and pressing her lips to his. He hears the smacking, the moaning, the flicking of tongues.
I can't deal with this now, he thinks. Standing up, he walks past the couple and towards the door.
"Where you going?" Brian asks, turning his head.
"For a walk."
Quentin finds himself walking further than expected. He just wants to get a feel for the night, but he finds himself in the main courtyard in the middle of Hogwarts. Behind him, the waterfall is slowly freefalling, making a soothing noise that begs him to fall asleep. He does lean his head backward, looking up at the sky. The true sky was now dark in color, no cloud in sight, but the stars were beautiful.
He remembers how his father pointed out all the shapes in the sky. Until this day, he still remembers every single one of them. He finds comfort in thinking of his father; thinking of his arm around him and laughing, "See, Quen, that there is the big dipper. And the one beside it is the little dipper."
"Like us, Daddy?" little Quen would say, looking up to his father and smiling. His father would lean down, ruffling his hair and smiling.
"Just like us, Quen."
And then he left…, Quentin thought, sighing and sitting up straight. The constellations flew out of his head as he sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows. "Dad…"
In the pit of darkness, Quentin looks up and notices a pair of bright green eyes. Green eyes staring directly at him. He rises, aiming his wand before the tiny creature comes out of the dark, looking up at him with its small eyes.
It meows and Quentin sighs, sitting down on the ground and laughing to himself. The small cat, he thinks, must be someone pet for transfiguration class. Quentin himself found a small white owl which he decided to call Snow; in his first year he had a rat but then the thing started to smell. Snow is smart; he likes to fly around between his old home in Ohio and here. He expects him for classes and he is always there.
"Come here, little guy," Quentin whispers, extending his two fingers. The cat comes forward, it's small face coming into the light. Surprisingly, the cat smells his fingers and then hisses loudly at him, the caramel and deep red hairs standing up on its back. Quentin looks oddly at the cat, "What?"
The cat notices a small patch of dandelions and pads over to it, reaching forward and pawing at them gently. "Did I offend you?"
Green eyes turn to him and it meows before turning back to the flowers, taking one in its mouth and biting. Quentin can't help but laugh, standing up. "Well then, I'll leave you to your flowers."
As he goes to leave, the cat runs up to him and runs into his calf, meowing softly. He laughs once more, leaning down and stroking the cat behind its ears. "Go on, enjoy the flowers. I'm sure your owner will be looking for you. You're kind of cute."
And it was. The cat is small in size with its ears perked up in the air. It's small face has long white whiskers, a patch of white on its forehead that matched its belly. The rest of the fur is a caramel shade of brown with flecks of blonde and deep maroon. It's paws has pink pads but white fur, like it had boots.
"Is your name Boots?"
The cat meowed once more, rolling over on it's stomach and playfully grabbing Quentin's hand with its claws. Quentin jumps before he laughs, rubbing the cats belly before standing up. "Well Boots, it was nice to meet you."
Quentin walks away, leaving the cat alone in the small yard to play with its dandelions. But when he turns around, he notices the familiar pair of green eyes aren't there anymore. Narrowing his eyes, he shrugs and decides it's time for bed.