Sorry for not updating, I really have no excuse.
Also, I have a BETA reader now… my FUCKING EPIC friend Gapster who's kindly offered to slowly work her way from the beginning and through this immense novel-sized FanFiction.
"Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody."
–Stephen Chbosky 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower'
Chapter Thirty-Four:
It was an unusual feeling, telling Sarah about my life and my world. A warm feeling that swelled in the pit of my stomach. A good feeling.
I forgot how much they didn't know, how much I'd kept from my family unintentionally. In a sense, Sarah had always been my favourite sister, but I'd always previously accounted that to the fact we hardly knew each other because of the giant age gap.
It seemed her questions became less ignorant and silly the more she asked until she had a basic and rounded knowledge of the Wizarding World. Of course I left out all information about Tom Riddle, muggle-born murder and the impending war, since I didn't find that to be a suitable topic to hit a beginner with.
"If you have any other questions while I'm a school, owl me, okay?" I smiled looking at my clock, "But I think we should have lunch now before we miss it,"
She frowned, "I can't send you letters though. I don't have an owl."
"Mother sends mail addressed to a friend of mine's named Greg and he sends them with his owl, but I think he loses most of them since mum always complains in the letters I do get that I don't reply to the ones I don't get… you can buy one in Diagon Alley at Eeylops Owl Emporium,"
"Could you take me to Diagon Alley?" Sarah questioned.
I shrugged, "Yeah, but we'd have to get the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron in the centre of London,"
"Or we could take my car," she laughed.
I shrugged, "Okay, there's that too, but the Knight Bus is cool…"
"Either way, are you free tomorrow?" Sarah asked.
I nodded and we slipped off my bed, headed towards the stairs.
Dinner was held by a heavy silence, I'd managed to avoid most of my family for most of the day, but I can only remain shut-up in my room for so long.
Scoffing down the remnants of my pasta and guzzling my water, I jumped out of my seat and jumped the bowl in the sink.
"See ya', I'm going out," I said with a quick wave and opened the door.
"Excuse me? It's ten at night!" my father spoke condescendingly.
I gave him a blank look, slinging my rucksack over my shoulder, "So? I'm going to see my friends…"
My mother now joined the conversation, "Not at this time of night. Get back inside and do as your father says!"
"No."
They gave me shocked expressions, "We are your parents and you must do what we say – after you're eighteen you can do whatever, but for now, you are not going,"
I laughed, "It's seventeen,"
Eveybody at the table gave me blank stares.
"In less than a year I'll be a legal adult in my world,"
"Well, you aren't yet and until then you aren't alowed to leave the house," I could see my father trying to remain calm.
With a bitter laugh, I replied, "You're grounding me? Seriously? Well, good luck with enforcing that,"
Before they could answer, I slammed the door behind me, leaving a room full of shocked faces.
This was around about my home life now; avoiding family members, causing tension when I walk into the room and picking fights with… almost everybody.
I felt the chill in the air, and pulled the hood of my coat up, shoving my hands further down into my pockets. The icy breeze drifted, in a way that it didn't simply roll through a place, but lurked and swirled around… whispering to the trees and searching for the cracks in windows and gaps in clothing so it can creep its way down your spin and set a cold chill on your insides.
The streets were coated with a thin layer of snow that crunched beneath my converse. Suddenly, I took a miss-step on a layer of hidden ice and came crashing to the ground. My contents of my rucksack spilled across the sidewalk, paint cans dripping a mirage of colours and staining the snow. Slowly, I picked myself up and dusted the snow off my jacket, checking the scrapes on my knees. Quickly checking that nobody was looking, I pulled my wand from my boots and cast, "Episkey," with a whisper.
Looking to my art supplies that had been scattered across the pavement, I sighed and muttered bitterly while I began collecting them all up, "Great. Just great. This really sums up my evening finely,"
I checked them for cracks before placing them back in my rucksack, but only a few I had to dump in the garbage because of breakage. I was about to keep walking when something caught my eyes, glinting in the lowlight from the flickering street lamp above.
When I picked up the forever morphing charm I smiled, a small sad smile even when I wished to scowl, to throw it to the ground in spite... I simply couldn't. No, not this.
It was almost midnight and I was exhausted. This day had probably been the strangest of birthdays I'd ever had in my existence. The days started with a letter and now it was ending with me curled up in my duvet in bed, holding the small parcel that'd been almost burning in my pocket all day.
I didn't really know what lay underneath the small brown paper folds and green ribbon, but my curiosity and theories had been building since the morning and only now did I have the chance to see how far from correct I was.
On the brown paper the words were written 'don't rip the wraping!' in black ink. Words I'd been muddling around in my mind for most of the day. But, as Sirius had written, I carefully began tugging at the folds; no tape seemed to have been used but a sort of spell that kept it together until I began unwrapping it.
Soon I realised there was writing on the inside face of the brown paper, so when I finished I was left with a black box and a crumpled letter.
Flattening it out with my palm, I began to read the sloppy cursive writing;
Hey Riley,
Startly of all, I'd like to begin with an APOLOGY even though that's really not a very cheery start to a birthday letter. I'm sorry I neglected to tell you about my human existence that lived outside of my furry one over the years, but truly, I just didn't know how. I had my theories you were a witch, but I never knew FOR SURE until today when I saw that owl deliver your HOGWARTS ACCEPTANCE LETTER. I knew then I had to tell you. Even if you hate me afterwards, I couldn't live with the lie.
Nextly, I'd like to wish you a HAPPY 11TH BIRTHDAY and that you don't (kill me) completely hate me for what I did.
And finishly, in regards to your PREASENT, the charm fuses itself to the first person who touches it (like snitches… wait you don't know what they are… hmm) and kinda sorta MIRROR your PERSONALITY, I guess. So long as you keep it ON or NEAR you, it will record all MAJOR THOUGHTS and MEMORIES (this including the metal morphing into something that represents you) that you'd deem important although you can control what goes into it if you want like when homework is due.
In finishing conclusion I hope you forgive me for hiding my talkative side and have a BRILLIANT birthday!
–Sirius 'Padfoot' Black
The contents of the box held true to Sirius's words; it was a charm of both of the magic and metallic kind shaped. It looked like a metal sphere on a key chain until I picked it up and the metal began to morph... and it never stopped. Every time it was close to settling of a form it'd begin shuffling again.
'Maybe it takes a while to settle,' I thought before closing my eyes, the charm in my hand.
As I held it in front of me I felt it whispering my past to me all at once, the little secret thoughts that nobody knew, the memories my mind had lost with age, the pieces of past I'd forgotten.
And the very first, the image that had been in my mind as I fell asleep on the silent night I received this gift.
Sirius.
I pushed the thoughts away, shoving his trinket into my rucksack and shaking my head. That's all I really did lately – shove the thought of him away as if it were poison in my mind. Maybe it was… a sort of painful poison that leaked though every thought of him and dripped from every blissful memory of the days when we were friends.
Best friends.
Something I entirely screwed up, with nothing other than a simple kiss. A quick peck of puckered lips. How could an expression of love be our ruin?
Unrequired love. That was my poison. Mix that with a hint of jealously, dash of heartache and a sprinkle of hatred and you'll see exactly why I simply could not under any circumstances think of that particular boy that I shall not name on principle.
Of course, I couldn't not think of him either. There's always that slight glimmer that rests I the back of my heart…
Hope.
Stupid, foolish fucking hope.
Sometimes I wish I had no hope, that Pandora was a little too curious and didn't shut the lid on time for hope to remain trapped in her mysterious box. Hope hurts. Hope burns.
Why can't the burning stop? Why can I not sever my heart from my mind?
But of course I could never do that. I would be no better that Tom Riddle, the boy who severed his heart because his hope was too painful to deal with. I blatantly refuse to become that sort if coward.
So I just keep… pushing it all away. Bottling it up. Storing it elsewhere.
With a sigh, I slung the rucksack over my shoulder and kept walking, wondering why everything was so fucked up.
"VIXEN!" the thrilled scream rang through the tunnels, echoing ominously into the darkness and I found myself being squeezed in a bear hug by an old friend.
I grinned, a wide beaming smile, "It's good… to see you… to… Indiana… can't… breathe…"
She let me go with a chuckle as I felt somebody clap me on the shoulder, "Don't usually see you at Christmas, Little Fox…" the voice of Marshal said as I turned, pulling him into a hug.
"Where's Greg?" I asked and Indi gestured to further down the tunnel.
As we walked through the maze, a glowing light appeared in the distance. I could hear the mumbles of my other fellow tunnel-dwellers growing louder until I began to realise what Greg was yelling.
"Why is a raven like a writing desk? Why is a raven like a writing desk? Why is a raven like a writing desk?!" he kept repeating over and over, getting more and more frustrated with every word.
Smiling, I called out the answer, "Because all the world is a stage!"
The old mad man seemed to calm, "Riley? You be here? In the Underland, the Neverworld, the Foreverwhere! Why, well and which, where – that be the brew of thinkers to think thoughts of thousands and thickets of thistles and thestrals thawing thanks for three pence peace pictures…"
It was around there that he lost me in his rambling which turned into a sort of confused muttering.
"He's getting worse," I deadpanned.
Marshal smiled sadly, "There's nothing we can do… he didn't recognise Tran and Sooki the other day. His Alzheimer's is getting worse quite rapidly…"
Sighing, I looked to my elder friend, "I wish I could do something to help,"
"Don't we all?" Indiana tried to smile and a still silence fell upon us while we watched Greg, so completely transfixed by his own world.
Suddenly, Tran entered the area from a different tunnel opening, "Is that… Vix I see?" he pulled a wide smile, "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Almost didn't recognise you with the big mess of blue hanging from your head," Tran laughed, rubbing his jaw.
"If you're referring to my hair, then I'd call you blind. It's quite obviously bright orange," I joked, sarcasm littering my words.
He smiled slyly, "Wit bond measure–"
"–Is a man's greatest treasure," I finished for him with a wink, "So where's Sooki tonight?"
"At home, five months pregnant," he spoke and checked his watch, "Which reminds me that I should be getting home,"
This was new news to me as I tried to keep the shock from showing on my face, "Boy or girl?" I questioned.
"We're leaving that for a surprise, since it doesn't really matter anyway. Boy or girl, its names going to be Rowan… Sooki says it will protect the baby from being snatched from fey creatures," Tran rolled his eyes. Usually, I would've laughed at somebody who said such things but I couldn't blame Sooki and Tran, them being Muggles and everything.
"I want it to be a girl," Indiana grinned at me.
I gave him a quick hug, "Well, congratulations. It was good seeing you,"
He smiled slightly, "You too, Vix. See you all tomorrow night,"
Then Tran left, rushing down the tunnel, desperate to get home to Sooki. A woman such as Sooki is demanding enough without the fact she now pregnant, the thought of it gave me shivers and I felt a pang of pity for Tran, who has to deal with her.
The remaining three of us joined Greg near the fire to keep warm, "I'm guessing Ratchet isn't out yet?"
Marshal shook his head, "Two more months 'till he comes home,"
"And his progress…" I continued to probe.
Indiana sighed, "Rehab has been… bumpy for Ratch. Definitely not easy. But, he's getting there…"
The news was good to hear, last time I sat down in these tunnels before the start of my sixth year, he'd been at his worst and completely delusional about his addiction.
Our conversation continued on, staring with them asking about how boarding school was going. I fibbed the least amount possible and diverted our conversation to other topics when I could. I didn't really like lying to the people who practically raised me. I hated that it was necessary.
Eventually Marshal packed up and left also, so Indiana and I made our way through the tunnel system. She showed the progress that had been made while I was away; apparently the tongueless kid had been showing up more and more lately, bringing along his strange dark artwork.
I learned that Indi has completed her degree in architecture and is due to start work after the New Year. Also, she was dumped quite abruptly by her (now ex) boyfriend of three years and is now living alone for the first time in a while.
It was near two in the morning when we climbed out of the tunnels. I didn't want to go home, so I just stood there.
"Are you okay, Vix?" she asked with concern in her eyes.
I shook my head, "I-I can't go home," the sudden realisation hit me; I was tired, "I just can't face my parents tonight… usually I can, but not tonight. I need a break from the tension and the snide comments,"
She put her arm around my shoulders and sent a smile my way, "Come on, then, I can put you up for a night,"
The drive to her apartment was silent. She never asked about the problems I had with mum and dad. She didn't question. She didn't tell me to stop being whiney. She didn't judge.
Indiana just caught me when I fell and help me get my balance.
She flicked on the light as we walked on the door. Quickly rushing to the cupboard to gather a few blankets, folding one to act as a pillow, "Hope the couch is fine,"
"I don't care where I sleep," I tried to smile, but I just couldn't.
Sitting down on the couch, I felt tears begin stinging in my eyes. Indi remained silent as I sobbed measily, face in hands. She put the blanket around my shoulder and walked into the kitchen.
It wasn't clear to me the exact reason I was crying, all I knew was I needed to. Maybe it because I suddenly realised just how fucked everything was, maybe it's because I'd been bottling verything u for too long.
All I knew what is that moment, I didn't care.
Indiana re-emerged with a bottle and a glass. She popped the cork of the top of the cheap wine and poured a good dose of the ruby liquid.
"Usually I don't condone underage drinking, but truly Riley, you bloody well need to unwind," she took a drink out of the glass and handed me the bottle.
I raised it to my lips, taking a great swig and forgot the world around me.
IMPORTANT QUESTION:
Should this story be moved up to M Rated status?
It has both sexual and drug references, teenaged drinking and some quite violent chapters coming in the future.
It's your choice. Tell me what your opinion is in your Reviews. Please note that if I get more than five votes to move it up to M Rating, it will be changed.]
Just know this story will not ever contain any sort of lemon or smut.
PLEASE REVIEW!